Title: Learning to Love

Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this for fun and not profit.

Rating: M

Pairings: Harry/Draco

Warnings: suicidal thoughts, abuse, homosexual relationships

Summary: Harry is suicidal and dangerously close to the edge as he loses control over his expanding magical powers. Draco finds himself loosing strength after suffering at the hands of his manic father. Can the two boys find hope where there seems to be none?

Chapter Three: Much to Learn

--HP--

Harry's eyes snapped open, focusing immediately on his best friend across the room. He felt a wave of cold, chilling air that had been swirling about him during his dream radiate from his body in violent waves. There was nothing he could do to control it, he hadn't realized the loss of control until he felt his magic escaping him. Harry had come to terms with the fact that the intense power he was feeling around him earlier that day was his own magic, and now it was Ron who had fallen gracelessly to the floor at the very sight of his brilliant green eyes.

He watched as his best friend lay chillingly still on the cold floor of the room. Fear washed over him as he heard loud footsteps rushing up the stairs. The door snapped open and Ginny froze in her footsteps at the sight of her brother on the floor and Harry leaning over him, a single tear forming in his eye. The other Weasleys and Hermione seemed to pile up behind the stunned girl, shock painted on all of their features.

"What happened?" Hermione was the first to speak up. She was visibly shaking and as she recovered from her initial shock she rushed to the fallen boy's side. She ran her hand over his cold cheek and terrified she tried frantically to find a pulse. The others watched fearfully from the door as she collapsed, sobbing onto the redhead's chest. "Please, Ron, please don't go," was all she managed to get out before she snapped, "What the hell happened Harry? Why is he like this?"

Harry just stared at her, focusing on nothing but keeping his wall intact. He didn't want to hurt anyone else, he just wanted to get away before anything worse happened. Two words came out, barely audible, "my magic."

Harry expected them to start attacking him with questions, but instead they were all too concerned with the fallen boy. To an extent Harry was quite thankful for this. He tried to focus on what his dream had been about, maybe it would hold the key to why this happened. It slowly started to trickle back to him, not the details, but the general idea.

He had been in the department of mysteries, fighting side by side with Sirius. He had relived his godfather's death. But this time it was different, and he knew what had changed with a flash of fear that 

chilled his very bones. When he ran after Bellatrix in his dream, he cast Crucio on her just as he had done that night. This time it worked. He watched her writhing around on the ground, tears forming in her eyes. That was when he woke up.

Harry was startled by the realization of both what he had done in his dream and also that he had been in the process when he woke up. He knew one thing. He needed to get away before anyone else got hurt.

With that Harry vanished from the room with a faint 'pop' as everyone gathered around Ron, trying to understand what had just happened.

--DM--

Draco awoke from his dream with a start. He was staring into the middle of his dark room, fear radiating from his lithe body. He gasped for air as his lungs filled with the cold air filling the room. He knew that his dream had been important, but he just couldn't remember what it was about. He shut his eyes tightly, focusing on the only thing that was clear from his dream – large, beautiful and intoxicatingly green eyes. He was sure that there had been more to the dream than these haunting eyes, however he could not for the life of him remember what it was.

Then it hit him with enough force to cause him to fall back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling watching the room spin as he remembered. Those were Harry Potter's eyes. Potter. He was in trouble, he had lost control or something and all Draco knew was that those imploring green eyes, completely devoid of their usual hatred had captured some small part of him.

Violently shaking his head Draco thought, The dream was not of that nature. Before standing and pacing his room, trembling as he tried to understand why he was seeing this version of his school-yard rival. He just realized that Potter was in trouble and he wasn't sure what he should do about it. That is until he realized exactly what he was fretting about, and settled back into his bed. For Merlin's sake. It's only a dream! He thought as his head hit the pillow, but it didn't help him clear his head of the incident. The dream he was trying so hard to put aside had indeed been far more vivid than any dream he had ever experienced. It was a trying night as he tossed an turned, trying in vain to fall back asleep.

All he could think about was the beautiful green eyes that he had seen in his dream. Since when do I think of Potter having beautiful eyes?

--HP--

Harry appeared, seconds after his departure, cross-legged on a chair directly in front of Dumbledore, head buried in his hands still crying. His magic had not subsided and he found himself even less able to maintain the little control he had once maintained without thought. Dumbledore sat peering over his half-moon spectacles for several minutes, trying to process the sight in front of him. Never had he seen someone apparate through Hogwarts many wards.

Finally Dumbledore regained his voice and tried to console the lost boy in front of him. "Harry? What happened my boy?" he asked the dark-haired wizard so suddenly perched in front of him.



Harry looked up from his palms and was startled by the crystal blue that gazed back at him, never revealing the inner workings of the elder man's mind. Despite his inability to read the man, Harry broke down before him. He made every small worry apparent to his mentor. "Professor, I just hurt Ron. I was just sitting in the garden yesterday when I discovered how my power is no longer in control…" He began, his voice loosing control with the increase in power than he felt welling up once more, "then I pricked my finger… I found control, not much but some… can't even do Occlumency… can't keep the power in… managed during dinner… found a wall… I couldn't believe it, but I tried to deal with it."

"Harry, calm down," Dumbledore attempted to soothe the boy before him and draw the information out in a more clear way, "From the beginning please."

"But, it's Ron. I need to know if he's going to be okay. I did it to him, I need to know," Harry was all but shouting at the headmaster, despite the fact that only a couple months prior he had learned without a doubt that his passionate outbursts had no effect on changing the old man's decisions. Still, Dumbledore stood, walked to a small fireplace and vanished. Harry sat still, very frightened for what seemed like hours.

While Dumbledore was gone Harry tried his very best to return his magic to its rightful place – under his control. When he saw his elder reappear he was, however, overcome by a wave of grief at the grave features. The old man stepped towards the younger man sitting in front of him and placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. Emerald meeting Sapphire, the two sat there, each imploring the other to speak for many minutes. Finally the headmaster spoke, "Ron will be fine with time. He will likely not back to full health before the start of term banquet in two weeks time; however, he will make a full recovery."

With a sweep of violet cloth as the hem of his robes swung around the edge of the large mahogany desk, Dumbledore found his seat and settled in. He sat with his hands folded, elbows supported on the desk top and his chin perched atop the long fingers. His eyes bore into Harry as if he were reading Harry's very soul. "This was no doubt your magic that caused Ron the trauma."

It was more of a statement than a question, but still Harry responded, "Yes, sir."

"Well then, Mr. Potter, we find ourselves in need of some help do we not? We must teach you to control those emotions that so nearly cost you your best friend."

Harry just looked ashamedly at his hands, which were carefully folded in his lap. He suddenly realized with a pain that he had left the Burrow without a word to anyone and without explaining himself. They probably thought that he was trying to kill Ron. This thought shook Harry in a way that actually made him fearful of himself.

"The Weasleys, Hermione included, do not blame you for this. They understand." Dumbledore reassured Harry as if he could read the younger boy's mind.

Harry just shook his head. He didn't see how they could ever forgive him, and even if they did he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never be able to forgive himself.

"Harry. Please listen to me boy, nobody blames you. This is not your fault. We should have seen this coming. I knew you were going to gain power over the next year, but I had no idea that the changes 

would be so sudden." Harry's eyes slowly lifted back up to meet his headmaster's, confusion and a hint of anger spreading across his features. He knew that this was going to happen to me? He thought bitterly as the old man continued talking, "Now all we can do is teach you to control the new powers and that may be a truly difficult task, for both of us."

At that very moment a much frazzled Professor McGonagall walked through the door into the headmaster's office. She appeared to be pulled straight from her bed as her long gray-brown hair fell half way down her back, held out of her face by a single rubber band. When she finally spoke it sounded as if she were holding back a yawn, "Professor, what is the meaning of this? What is so important that…" She trailed off and her head snapped around to see the boy sitting in front of the older man. She could clearly feel the ripples of power rolling off of him and her eyes widened, "It has happened then?"

With twinkling blue eyes, the headmaster simply nodded, a bright smile crossing his features.

Personally Harry did not understand what the old man was so happy with, he had injured his best friend without being able to control it and he was now here still with no semblance of control over these new powers. But Harry waited for the headmaster to speak.

"Minerva, if you will escort young Harry here to Gryffindor's flat. It should have appeared near the Astronomy tower. I'm sure he will be able to stay there without objection from this old castle." At this McGonagall's eyes went wide with surprise, apparently at something she heard that Harry didn't. Dumbledore turned to Harry, "For now I want you to sleep. Minerva will take you to a small flat where you will stay until we find a way for you to control your new powers."

Harry began to rise from his seat when Dumbledore interrupted his busy mind, "And Harry, please avoid apparating to, from or within the grounds. The hole you tore in our wards is going to be very difficult for me to repair."

Professor McGonagall was now openly gaping at the two wizards before her, she, like Dumbledore, had never heard of anyone managing to apparate through the many protective wards that surrounded the castle. This revelation simply added to the shock that she had endured upon feeling Harry's new power filling the room and Dumbledore's request to have the young man settled into Gryffindor's flat.

She quickly realized that her mouth was hanging open and snapped it shut, regaining the shreds that were once her composure and pulled herself together. She motioned for Harry to follow her, likely not trusting her voice, and lead him out of the old man's office toward the Astronomy tower.

When they reached what Harry swore was a blank wall just months ago they found a magnificent scarlet and gold door that was emblazoned with the name Godric Gryffindor in script across the top. The door appeared to belong there, next to the staircase leading to the Astronomy tower not standing out despite its grand appearance. Minerva approached the door and found that she was unable to touch the knob, let alone open the door and she pursed her lips, motioning once again for the young man to try.

Harry felt a wonderful surge of power as he touched the golden door knob, much like that he felt when he first held his wand. It felt like a part of him. He slowly opened the door, allowing himself to take in every part of the large room before him. The entire place looked like it was decorated to match the Gryffindor common room. There was a crackling fire surrounded by several poufs and a small couch on 

the opposite side of the room, on the near side, just to the left of the door was a kitchenette with a rich oak table. He crossed the room, mesmerized by the rich decoration and he reached out for the only other door in the room. He had a feeling he knew where this door would lead him, and as his professor slipped back out the entrance he entered while tugging at remaining clothing, letting it drop as he looked around the magnificent scarlet and gold bedroom.

It was just seconds before Harry collapsed onto the large four poster bed, collapsing into the calming feeling that overtook him when he stepped through the door to this room. He was finally slipping off into a peaceful sleep.

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