Chapter Three:
Honoured

"You really do look better," Hermione was saying amidst breakfast the next morning, her boyfriend was mumbling some sort of agreeing sound between mouthfuls of sausages.

Ginny was shrugging at Harry's side, observing the brunette who avoided her gaze, "I don't know. I'm used to the other Harry,"

"It's just glasses," Harry muttered, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice. He, unlike Hermione, had caught the subtext of Ginny's words. She didn't just say she preferred him with glasses but that she was used to the other Harry. 'A War changes people,' Harry thought darkly to himself, 'She should know,'.

They had been making poor attempts at their relationship for the past two days now, even more so than they were before, and it seemed it wasn't only Harry that couldn't stand to touch his partner any more. He was astonished not even Hermione had noticed, or at least she hadn't piped up to say anything, of how distanced they were to one another. Before the Final Battle, Harry had believed he had found love. He knew now how sorrly confused he had been, but once again, he acknowledged he was quite stuck at the moment; he was biding his time for Ginny to cut their ties for him.

"Would you like to go out for a walk around the Lake?" Harry provided in a whisper to Ginny, he still made small efforts, enough for her to realize how much she herself obviously didn't want to be with him, either.

"No," she said with a slight snarl, "It's bloody freezing outside, Harry," Ginny added, but Harry knew it was an excuse, she was quite proficient at warming charms.

Harry shrugged, he was using it as his getaway. He just wished to be anywhere but there, he felt awkward and horrible all at once, he couldn't stand to hurt another friend and yet he couldn't stand to be around her in context any longer. Standing up, he nodded his head slightly to his friends, "I'll cya in Charms, 'Mione," and he departed swiftly out of the Great Hall.

Since they were Eight Years, they had the luxury to their own table in the renovated Great Hall, Ginny often sat with them as it would be surely noted if she didn't sit with her boyfriend. Another Eighth Year student stood almost on cue with Harry and followed him out into the nearly deserted Entrance Hall and up the ascending staircase towards their Common Room.

Harry finally stopped when he reached the Second Floor landing, not bothering to turn on his heel as he did. "Can I help you, Malfoy?" he was disheartened that his voice didn't sound nearly as menacing as he wished it did. In fact, he was almost in fear of the blond lately, considering the knowledge he had gained of Harry.

"I want to hold it again," Malfoy demanded simply, "Your key,"

It was odd, Harry had been absent mindedly fumbling with the piece of iron that fell against his toned chest, it was a habit he had picked up. The key was, truly apart of him. "Why?"

Malfoy stepped around to face towards him, his hand out-stretched expectantly. 'Typical. Malfoy assumes he always gets what he wants,' but despite his own thoughts, Harry removed the chained key from his neck and whispered, "Patior," before dropping it into his waiting hand. Immediately, Harry felt himself relax. It was strange, he could feel Draco's digits running over the length of the iron. It made his hair stand on end.

"It is quite the key," he commented, observing its every contour, completely aware of the physical reaction Harry was having to it, "What kind of spells did you put on it. I cannot seem to figure out any that would be...helpful,"

Harry merely cast a look sideways, a slight tinge of pink appeared to be crawling up his throat. He wished he had the strength to take the key from him but he just stood there as the other boy raised his wand, "Praesto,". Harry, from the corner of his eye, could swear he saw Malfoy's own eyes widen and his cheeks redden. In a moment, he reached down and grabbed Harry's hand, turning his palm upwards to receive the key.

"Veto," Harry's voice was trembling more than he thought it had been. He had never felt more naked in front of anybody in his entire life. Malfoy stood still, watching him intently, waiting for - for what? Harry was wholly unsure.

"I see," he finally broke the tense silence and tore his eyes from the nerve-wrecked boy before him. Without any further exchange of words, he turned to leave.

But, Harry could swear, just before he rounded the corner of the corrider, he had heard him whisper, "I am truly honoured,".

Charms class was strenuous and stressful affair for Harry. Not that he did much participation or paid any attention to most of his lessons since the beginning of the term, but sitting beside Hermione he had to appear to be taking notes as Professor Flitwick lectured them on the Surrounding Light Charm. Yet, his mind couldn't get Malfoy's words out of his head. He couldn't shake the blush he had sworn he had witnessed from his thoughts.

'You are death,' ... 'I am truly honoured,' he had sounded sincere, which was what was throwing Harry off the most out of all. He still hadn't been able to figure out what the blond had meant by what he had said after seeing the contents of his precious trunk, and even more annoyingly so, he hadn't received his Tales of Beedle the Bard back from Malfoy, either. It made him even more nervous than he already was. Especially since his friends had noticed that he wasn't carrying his book around with him for two days, which he shrugged off and avoided all questions, as he usually did, leaving them unanswered.

"The Lycacomia Curse is sometimes deadly - not many Wizard's alive have cast it but -" 'Wait. I thought we were on Surrounding Light not Lycacomia?' Harry scratched his last sentence of his note and begun to write whatever dabble Flitwick was continuing on with but, for the third time that period, his mind drifted as his quill carried along thoughtlessly. That ex-Slytherin's voice kept distracting him, lingering in his ears.

Harry felt, most certainly, that his mind was finally falling apart at its seams. There had been multiple chances for Malfoy to gloat or announce what he had discovered but he did no such thing. He was indefinitely sure he had yet to even delve any details to his best friend, for Zabini had been quite dishevelled around the stoic blond. It irked Harry - what was he waiting for? This was the perfect opportunity to have the hoard of attention he was sure Malfoy would adore; perhaps he was biding time to devise the perfect plan to steal from him his secrets to keep them as his own. Malfoy was not one, Harry was certain, to turn his back to such power. Then how come it seemed like he did?

At some point, Harry's quill had run off its parchment and bodies were moving around him though he was oblivious, his free hand was fingering his iron key beneath the desk. He had done everything he could to ensure his key properly worked, he had even given it to Ron to have a go at his trunk the night before and, as suspected, it refused to budge and Harry felt uncomfortable while the iron was within his red-headed friends grasp. Harry was absolute that his precious key worked as well as it did the day he charmed it but that left him pondering the even more dire alternative. How could he, when he didn't even feel that way towards Ron, Hermione or Ginny, feel subconsciously like that for Malfoy?

"Potter, wake-up, would you?" the centre of his thoughts was sneering down at him, though when Harry met that grey gaze he noted there lacked hatred in there as they had had the years before.

"Malfoy?"

Draco rolled his eyes at the boy's blank expression and slid into the seat beside him, where had Hermione gone? A quick scan of the room told him she was now seated beside Michael Corner near the front of the class. "What's the meaning of this?"

"Flitwick partnered us for the Surrounding Light Charm. Please, do read, the faster we can successfully cast it the quicker we can leave," Malfoy drawled, he had his text open to the page of the particular charm yet he himself wasn't reading its words. Instead he was fixated on Harry's closed text. A few moments passed before he sighed and turned to the correct section for Harry who quietly sat, stunned and unmoving.

"Don't need to," Harry eventually mumbled, now both his hands were under the desk, his palms sweaty against the key. At Malfoy's questioning side glance he elaborated, "I can cast it,"

"Potter, by the looks of it you do not even know the name of the Charm,"

Harry shrugged, "So,"

Malfoy pursed his lips but kept his snide remarks to himself, he didn't doubt him in all honesty. "Cast it so we can get out of this bleeding useless class," he muttered, he never had an inkling of respect for Flitwick and was always give or take a year ahead of what he was teaching.

"Ok," Harry stood, he looked perplexed as he did. Their Professor noted his presence and swept across the room to him.

"Ah, Mr Potter, ready so soon?" his little blue eyes twinkled mirthfully.

Shrugging again, Harry turned to the seated blond beside him who had his eyebrows raised and arms crossed, "I suppose I'm to cast it on you?" Malfoy nodded slowly, his piercing grey eyes seemed to be calculating the other boy. It certainly unnerved Harry. "The incantation?"

"Surely you cannot cast it if you don't even know the incantation, Mr Potter-"

"Circumvado Lucidis," Malfoy cut off his own Professor coolly, his stare between Harry and himself could not be broken.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy," the Professor hissed, "But, you don't even have your wand, do you-"

Harry's eyes narrowed. He couldn't stand the absence of his wand, which was always tucked neatly away in his bedside drawer, being mentioned. "Circumvado Lucidis," he said simply.

The other students had all along with their Professor quieted as they watched the Charm take its effect, a soft yellowish light fell about Malfoy, surrounding his entire self, showing - to any who had been listening - the colour of his magical aura which to an extent could define his magical ability. Malfoy hardly seemed as astonished as those around him, then again he was a master at masking his emotions. Harry wordlessly lifted the Charm. Harry met Malfoy's steely gaze and the rest of the room was too stunned Harry had just wandlessly cast the Surrounding Light to notice Draco cast it in return, with his wand, of course. Professor Flitwick had his mouth agape, he slowly dismissed the boys who almost too quickly fled from the room. The Professor made a note to speak with the Headmistress after his lesson was finished.

Out in the corridor, Malfoy was a few steps behind Harry whose head hung, too heavy with thoughts to hold upright. "Can I see them again?" he called.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, turning about. The tall boy was only a few inches before him, his hands in his trouser pockets and he looked without emotion at Harry. "Why?"

"Trade places with me. Would you not want to see them again?" Malfoy returned, he took a step closer to Harry and reached out his hand, it landed on the boys own closed one that was down at his side, clasped about his key. The simple touch made Harry jump in surprise, "Patior," he opened the sweaty palm and took the key, smirking as he did, "I assumed it would work if I did it, too. Your key-"

"You must have done something to it, Malfoy," Harry accused, but he didn't sound all that honest, nor was he hexing the boy to retrieve his key.

Malfoy chuckled lowly, "Have I? Potter, up until before class I didn't even understand what it was you did to this thing. Even you aren't that thick, if your key allows me to open your trunk it will also allow me to lift its charm,"

Harry flushed, "How much do you know, about the charm?"

"Enough,"

They stood silently regarding one another before Malfoy turned to leave, he led the way back towards their Common Room. "How come you haven't told anybody, Malfoy?" Harry finally asked once they rounded the corridor to their portrait hole.

"What good would that do me?"

"Attention,"

"Potter, you really think I am that desperate for that?" Malfoy drawled, though he sounded somewhat amused. Harry shrugged as they were now climbing the stairs to their dormitory.

Once inside, Harry became extremely uncomfortable. His trunk was going to be open again, but this time he was willingly allowing Draco Malfoy to do it. He was just there, sitting now on the edge of his bed, letting him prop open the top. Malfoy was on his knees, a few strands of his platinum hair fell before his eyes that looked on with appreciation.

"Everybody thinks you destroyed them,"

"I know," Harry simply said, "I should have,"

Malfoy looked up from the trunk with an incredulous expression, "No. Only a damned fool would have,"

"Anybody other than me would have,"

"I wouldn't. It takes power to wield power,"

Harry blushed, had Malfoy just called him powerful? Did everybody, including his school rival, think that highly of his abilities? It made him, and the contents of his trunk, even more nervous. Harry had a sharp intake of breath, he could feel, once again, Draco's fingers closing around one of the objects that was so close to him, it was weaved in with his own soul. "Please," Harry whispered, "Put it down,"

Malfoy regarded how uncomfortable it was making Harry and he, reluctantly, put the object down though he left the trunk open. Instead, he pulled out one of the least important contents of it and Harry found himself grinning at it. The Marauder's Map. He didn't just have secrets in that trunk, that would be a waste of space. "What's with the parchment, Potter?"

"Why would I tell you?" Harry sneered, crossing his arms almost stubbornly, he couldn't honestly sit there and let the boy delve into all his secrets.

Without even looking away from the paper, Malfoy smirked, "Because you want to,"

Standing up from the bed, Harry retrieved the Map, "I'll show you if you give me the Tales of Beedle the Bard back,"

Malfoy raised his brow, "You really are quite obsessed, aren't you, Potter?" he teased, standing up and making his way over to his own trunk which he flipped open and reached inside, pulling out the book.

Harry felt flustered, was he really that bear before Malfoy? He snatched the precious book from his hands and gripped it tightly. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry handed the Map back over to Malfoy, "It's all of Hogwarts. It includes secret passages, some which were destroyed..." he trailed off and allowed there to be silence for a moment, "...it shows everybody where they are in the school at any given moment,"

After observing the Map for a few minutes, Malfoy tried to hide just how cool he thought it was before handing it back, "Clever, this Moony, Wormtail Padfoot and Prongs fellows,"

This made Harry grin, "Mischief Managed," the Map disappeared, "That's my Father-" he stopped himself. No. There was no reason for Malfoy to know any of that.

Malfoy eyed him suspiciously before his eyes ran back over to the open trunk. "What will you do? I certainly don't think a trunk is a proper place for all of that,"

Harry shrugged, "It has to be, for now, while I'm still here. Too many-"

"Imbociles, I know," Malfoy finished for him, Harry blushed, it wasn't what he was going to say but it was certainly what he had meant.

"Why haven't you taken anything yet?"

"Once again, do you really think that poorly of me?" Malfoy seemed more off put than he was upset, he was bending down again and closing the trunk, taking the key and looking it. Harry was biting his lower lip, receding onto his bed, wishing he could pull the curtains around him. He really wasn't comfortable with just how much information Malfoy was privy to at the moment. "Potter," he begun softly, he was standing before the brunette, "You saved my life during that Battle, amongst many others, I am forever-"

"In debt?" Harry supplied dryly, he hated how often people would say they were indebted to him for 'saving their lives'. The hero bit really did get old fast.

"Honoured," Malfoy corrected. There it was again, that word that the ex-Slytherin said he felt towards Harry who was turning fifty shades of red at the moment biting his lip so hard it threatened to bleed. "Here," he handed him back the iron key, "Before somebody thinks I murdered the Golden Boy, we might want to actually attend our next lesson on time,"

Harry found himself rolling his eyes as he gratefully placed his key about his neck again, "Very funny, Malfoy,"

"Before we go, Potter," Malfoy stopped himself as he had started towards the door, "I just wanted to let you know you look much better without those hideous glasses, you should thank the Weaselette," he was opening the door now.

Blushing, Harry mumbled, "Yeah, er, thanks for that Malfoy. 'Mione's actually pretty peeved about it, I won't tell her who did it,"

Malfoy smirked, "The Mudblood's just upset she doesn't get that credit,"

"Don't call her that,"

"Why not? That is what she is," he had begun down the staircase now, "You should really read that book again, Potter, I am afraid you have misunderstood your favourite story entirely," Malfoy added, almost as an after thought, before he disappeared completely.

Harry furrowed his brow, the entire exchange was confusing at best. Deciding there would be a better time to contemplate every single detail and word of their interaction, as well as the Tale of Three Brothers, Harry had to hurry to make it to his Advanced Potions with Professor Slughorn on time.

Yet, he found himself once again delayed in the Common Room, this time by the last person he wanted to see.

Ginny was sitting on the couch, curled up far at one end, she turned her ashen face to Harry.

"Harry...we need to talk,"

XXXXXXXXXX

Perhaps, with time, things would begin to resemble normality. Christmas was soon, maybe the silent Castle would provide some form of solace or muffled understanding.

These thoughts were fleeting to Harry, he doubted he could ever forget what had happened since the Final Battle or the event in itself. Too much had been lost and what he had gained was too much a burden to leave behind. Being in such constant close proximity with one of the largest portions of his clouded thoughts really didn't help the situation any.

"Zabini, are you honestly as dense as a common Hufflepuff?" the object of Harry's thoughts drawled from his table in the Common Room, he was studying Potions with the rest of the ex-Slytherin's.

Blaise flushed, "Shut up, Malfoy and just explain why you can't go counterclockwise with the Draught of Death,"

"I have already explained it three times, come on, even Potter would understand it by now," the group around him, asides from Blaise, chuckled. Malfoy had spoken loud enough for Harry in a neighbouring table to hear, the brunette raised his head and met grey eyes and a small smirk.

They hadn't spoken directly for about two weeks now, but there had been gestures or whispered sentences that were almost...friendly. Harry found himself being equally friendly in return.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, her hand reached out and touched his wrist gently, making him jump, "You really don't have to do this now...I'm sure you'll pass the Defence Against the Dark Arts examination," she assured him.

Ever since Ginny's break-up with him a few weeks ago, his friends had been walking amongst egg shells. It was difficult for Harry to act upset but he had to, for their sake, or else they would question and assume too much. Though, it did give him plenty of opportunity to slip away unnoticed. They expected him to withdraw, so he did even more. When he did, he tended to sit alone in his dormitory with his book and his Map, watching it idly until one specific dot would move and when it was alone...he would follow.

"Thanks," Harry nodded, sweeping up his things and before he ducked away from the study session he attempted a half-smile, "For everything, guys, for understanding and all,"

Hermione and Ron both bore identical encouraging smiles, as he walked away they looked sadly at one another and grasped each others hands beneath the table. "He'll be okay," Ron said assuringly.

"I hope so...what about Ginny? Has she told you any more as to why she-"

"No, same thing. Keeps telling me it's no big deal, she just couldn't be with him any more," Ron shrugged, "Said he's not the Harry she fell in love with,"

Hermione pursed her lips, "He certainly isn't,"

Up in his dormitory, Harry sat, as per usual, with his Map in one hand and his book in the other. The ramblings and notes Harry had made on the side of the Tale of Three Brother's had been erased with Spell-o-Ink it seemed during Malfoy's acquisition of it. In replacement were the blond's own wispy writing in a green ink. Harry had memorized each word, not that there were many, and ran his fingers across the letters.

There were a few short explanations of each Brother's personality and purpose, there were even, to Harry's amusement, slight grammatical corrections to any misprinted errors. It was the short sentence at the end of the story, down below its last words, that had Harry's most pertinent attention. You are not them, Harry.

From the corner of his eye, Harry spotted his favoured dot on the Marauder's Map beginning to move. He traced it for a few moments; out of the Common Room, through the corridor, up the stairs. Harry rushed out of the dormitory, his book still in hand as well as the Map, he, unlike he usually did the past few weeks, didn't retrieve his Cloak to come along with him. Hermione and Ron were startled when they saw him rush past them again, this time out through the portrait hole, but they gave him his space.

Harry followed, two corridors behind, for ten minutes until the dot stilled before a wall and disappeared. Harry grinned, the Room of Requirement. He braced himself before it, surprised Malfoy had left the door available. As he finally stepped through it, it shrunk to nothing behind him. "I thought this room was gone forever," Harry found himself saying aloud, peering on into the depths of a crowded room.

Malfoy was standing at the far end of it, Harry could spot his platinum hair through the stacks of mountainous clutter. "The Castle is intelligent, which is more than I can say for the students who room within it, it rebuilt itself," even with his words, Harry could tell that he was frowning.

He edged around the piles of books, trinkets, chairs and other random bits of thing until he could bring Malfoy into full view. He stood straight, though tensed. "I brought you here-"

"What do you mean brought me here?"

"Come on, Potter, you really think I am so dense I haven't noticed you following me the past few weeks? Even with that Cloak of yours, I always know when you are there," Malfoy's words made Harry feel immediately uneasy, the blond turned towards him with a slight frown, his brows furrowed. "I want you to understand that this room is one that I have made the worst decisions of my life in,"

The simple admittance struck Harry and it felt like something cold shook down his spine. He calculated Malfoy but couldn't quite comprehend the emotions that were flashing before his eyes. He understood what he was referring to; the Vanishing Cupboard, Crabbe's death. "It is also the room I finally realized just how bloody...Gryffindor you truly are," his frown had a slight upturn into a grin, Harry took it he was referring to his blind heroics of turning back and saving him from the fire that killed the other Slytherin. Harry found himself grinning in response.

"Why are you telling me this, Malfoy?" Harry finally asked, he was clutching the book tighter now in his hands, he had questions he needed answered regarding the new words written in it.

Malfoy slowly sauntered towards Harry, his grey eyes seemed to be unclouded and that infamous façade seeped out of his skin, melting the closer he got. He regarded the shorter boy softly, now only a foot away, who was swallowing nervously but couldn't tear his eyes off of the tall, lean figure.

A cold, porcelain finger reached out and was quick to reach beneath the collar of Harry's shirt and grasp the key. Malfoy ignored the immediate burn as Harry gasped - the brunette wasn't stopping him.

"Because, you trust me,"