A/N: Beta'd by Raisinous Fiendling

Chapter Seven

Awakening

---

The next morning when Harry woke up on the floor of his new home, his back sore from sleeping in an awkward position on the floor, it took him a moment to realize where he was and how he had gotten there. Once his awareness was heightened, he realized there was something different. It wasn't that Draco was curled against him--that had stopped being new weeks ago. He could feel the bond pulsing in his blood. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling coursing through his skin and found it oddly comforting. Even though he knew Voldemort was out there somewhere looking for him, Harry felt safe. He could feel Draco's love and concern for him like it was a newly discovered piece of his soul. The mere thought of what it all had to mean scared him to death, because it meant he had underestimated his feelings for the veela.

In the days leading up to his birthday, he had felt as though he was searching for something that he could not find; he couldn't even remember what it was but now he knew. Draco. He'd known for an entire month that Draco was his soul mate but he never fully understood what it meant. It meant, Harry sighed with newfound clarity, that his heart lurched at the sight of Draco and his lips tingled at the thought of the kiss they'd shared.

He could feel his body full of need--lust--for the veela. His heart rate sped up and he forced his thoughts clear suddenly. No, he thought furiously, I don't want Draco Malfoy like that. I can't. But he could, and he did. There was another feeling, too, that he was now conscious of: a feeling of fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Draco. Harry wondered if this meant Draco would feel everything he felt. He couldn't help but wonder if the bond would make Draco feel love and concern within Harry that Harry himself wasn't sure he even really felt for the blond.

He thought Draco might love him, but Draco was veela and that was different. Harry was human and no matter what he might want, he didn't think it meant he was in love.

Absently, he began to rub Draco's back; the movement gave his hands something to do while he thought. Unfortunately, it was also waking Draco up.

Draco opened his grey eyes and looked up at Harry. Harry's heart jumped and he smiled. "Morning."

As he awoke, Draco suddenly found himself gazing into the adoring--wait. Adoring? He looked. Yes, adoring eyes of his... not lover, not boyfriend, not anything really, except... his soul mate. He wanted desperately to reach up and kiss Harry. Unfortunately, before he could, Harry snapped out of his strange mood and disentangled himself from Draco. Draco gasped at the pain caused by being separated so abruptly. The bond was so new and the fragile veela in him was still waiting for a sign from his mate to let him know that he didn't regret it. Harry looked back at him, noticing the reaction, but said nothing. The pain was momentary, and Draco was doing his best to smile again. "Happy Birthday, Harry," he said, wanting desperately to kiss the bespectacled boy.

Harry smiled at him. "Thank you."

They sat in relatively comfortable silence until Harry broke the mood by saying, "We should get up now; it has to be very late." He wasn't looking at Draco anymore, choosing instead to look around the bare room that extended into the bare hall and the bare stairs and the bare rooms upstairs. Harry sighed. "Make sure you put in that order today."

Draco only smiled and nodded. He had it ready; when Tonks next came by to see them, he planned on having her take it straight to Diagon Alley. Harry made to get up and Draco wasn't sure if he could stand for Harry to leave him completely. He hoped it had been out of confusion that Harry's earlier move caused him pain because he had only just been waking up and seeing Harry move away had looked like rejection. To be on the safe side, he tried to start a conversation with Harry but couldn't think of anything to say; then he realized he had not said good-bye to Mrs. Figg the night before.

"Where do you think Mrs. Figg was last night when we left?"

Harry yawned. "Tonks sent her on patrol. Most everybody knows her, so they're not much bothered by her walking around."

Draco nodded absently. "Do you think we'll see her again?"

Harry shrugged. "I doubt it. You can, if you'd like."

Draco remembered that Harry had been eager to get away from his relatives and didn't think the bespectacled boy would be pleased to return.

"Maybe I will," Draco said finally. His stomach grumbled and he decided to move on to more immediate concerns. "You looked through the kitchen last night; was there any food?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's fully stocked."

Draco looked warily in the direction of the kitchen. "And is any of it pre-made?"

Harry laughed. "I don't think so. But don't worry, I can fry us up something."

"You can cook." Draco sounded well pleased with this discovery. "Are you good?"

Harry blushed as he answered, "I've never had any complaints."

The color in Harry's cheeks pulled at Draco's heart and when the other boy stood, stretched and walked towards the kitchen, Draco caught a glimpse of his taut abdomen and was completely distracted by it.

Harry looked back to see Draco sitting on top of their pile of blankets, his eyes glazed and his hair and clothing thoroughly ruffled. He looked... well shagged. It took Harry half an hour longer than usual to make breakfast.

Harry avoided making eye contact all through breakfast. Draco, however, stared dreamily at him throughout the entire meal.

As he carried their dishes to the sink, Harry asked coolly, "Are there any effects from the charm last night?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't think so. Why? Are you feeling ill?"

"No," said Harry, blushing. "Not ill."

Draco raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"Listen," Harry said suddenly, after the dishes were washed and they had sat around watching the clock for a good half hour, "About last night..."

Draco cut in. "Don't worry about it."

Harry shook his head. "No, listen. You're right. You need to know, because I want you to know where I'm at when I'm gone and I know what it's like to know you're involved but to have no one tell you what's going on. But honestly, I don't even know where to start."

Draco's heart swelled and he smiled encouragingly. "Try the beginning."

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to do it today. I mean, I'm going to tell you. There's just a lot, and I have Dumbledore's Pensieve, so I thought maybe we could use it."

Draco nodded and they went back to watching the clock. His head was full of questions. Why was Harry asking about effects from the vows? Why had he changed his mind about telling Draco his secrets? And most importantly, why had he looked at Draco this morning like the blond was the most gorgeous creature he had laid eyes on? Was it possible that Harry felt more for him than he let on...? Draco stopped himself; of course Harry felt more than he let on. They were meant for each other; somewhere, somehow, Harry had to love him.

Harry was staring very hard at the table in order to stop himself from looking at Draco. His body and his heart were telling him that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Draco, that he wanted to consummate the bond and feel truly connected to the blond. His mind, on the other hand, kept reminding him who Draco Malfoy truly was--the family he came from, the life he'd led, the choices he'd made. Draco had told him that he'd known they were soul mates for years and yet he had had no problems tormenting Harry and his friends. He'd never shown any remorse for any of the things he'd said or did.

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but when Harry looked up and caught Draco's eyes, his stomach flipped and he couldn't say anything.

Tonks arrived shortly after lunch, bearing a mountain of gifts for Harry with her. Her hair was unkempt and a mousy brown color. Draco took it to mean Professor Lupin had not been found overnight. When Harry asked, she did her best to control her emotions as she informed them that there was still no sign.

"Do you think I could..." Harry started to ask, but when he looked at Draco, he paused. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'd like to help... look... for Remus."

Tonks gave Harry a grateful smile. "Oh, Harry. I wish you could, I really do wish you could, but you know we can't risk you; but don't... don't worry. The Order is looking for him."

Harry wasn't deterred. "Tonks... what can the Order do?"

Tonks took a seat. "Harry, there's not much you can do either. Even I... we... the Order... Look, the thing is, when you're a member of the Order of the Phoenix, or even if you're an Auror, you know there will be days when you have to make a sacrifice."--Harry tried to interrupt, but she wouldn't let him.--"This is war, Harry. We have to accept the consequences."

She gathered herself admirably as she spoke and Draco's respect for her grew. He wasn't sure how much of her words she truly believed, but they seemed to be the right thing to say to Harry. The Boy Who Lived looked away from them both but said nothing.

"I'm sorry, Harry. You've had more loss than you can bear and I know you want to do something," Tonks stood and put an arm on his shoulder, "but just this time, stay here." She looked at Draco and Harry's eyes followed. Draco tried not to crumble under their scrutiny. He wanted to tell Tonks that it was not a good idea to use him to get to Harry, because Harry hadn't--not really--forgiven him or changed his opinion of him.

To his immense surprise, Harry nodded. "It's what Dumbledore would want," he said simply. Tonks smiled sadly at him and hugged him briefly.

She left soon after with Draco's order in hand, and Harry walked over to the table piled with gifts. It seemed as though every person he knew had sent him a gift. He went through all the gifts happily enough, though Draco could see that Harry didn't seem to care too much for any of his presents. He found the usual Weasley sweater and slipped it on, leaving the rest of the gifts on the floor where he'd been unwrapping them.

Once he was done, Draco handed him a small package.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

Draco's cheeks grew warm. "A gift."

Harry smiled at him and opened the package.

"I ordered it when I ordered the rings," Draco said nervously as he waited for Harry's reaction.

Harry nodded and pulled out a silver ornate necklace. A rune was engraved on a heavy pendant that hung from the thick chain.

He looked up at Draco. "What does it mean?"

"It's charmed," said Draco, taking the necklace into his own hands. "It'll absorb dark curses. I figured you could always use the extra protection."

Harry swallowed thickly and thanked Draco. "You really shouldn't have."

The veela shrugged. "Maybe not, but I wanted to anyway."

Harry nodded again. He had to turn away so the blond wouldn't see how wet his eyes had become. He hadn't expected the gift; he knew Draco believed he loved Harry, but knowing something without any proof didn't mean anything really. The necklace was proof that someone--Draco--cared.

There were more than a few letters on the table with the gifts that Tonks had brought. Harry picked one up and read it quickly.

"The Weasleys want me to stay with them." Draco noticed that this idea didn't seem at all enticing to Harry.

"They're your friends, you should."

Harry's eyes flickered to him and back to the letter. "No."

This was strange to Draco; he had always thought the trio was joined at the hip. It also seemed strange to him that, since he'd been with Harry, he had heard very little about the dark-haired boy's two best friends. The only time Harry had left to see them had been for Percy Weasley's funeral.

One of the packages had a birthday cake, and another held a fresh cooked meal courtesy of Mrs. Weasley.

Over dinner that night, Draco asked, "Do you miss Weasley and Granger?"

Harry blew out a puff of air. "Yeah, I do. But... it's not easy. Right now, they've got each other. And there's not really... there's not much we can do about Voldemort right now, so I kind of want to let them have this time, you know? Before we go off fighting the Dark Side."

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "You're being noble, then?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess. That and, I can't exactly invite them over. Tonks has already told me she's not giving out the address any time soon."

"You don't want to go visit them?"

"Do you want me to leave you here all by yourself?"

Draco knew Harry was making excuses, but he dropped the conversation.

"Draco," Harry said as composedly as he could manage, "in the morning we can start looking through the Pensieve."

Draco smiled, not altogether satisfied with this turn of events. Harry was hiding something from him, or he was hiding from something, and Draco didn't like it. However, his need to know about Harry's plans for Voldemort far outweighed his need to know about Harry's tiffs with his friends, and so, he was perfectly content to forget about his dissatisfaction.

---

In the morning, Harry pulled the Pensieve out of a wooden box that had been brought over with their belongings. He sat it on the table in the dinning room and the pair of them sat watching the swirling memories. Harry touched the tip of his wand to his temple and extracted a memory. He deposited it in the Pensieve and they watched as an image appeared.

"The only memory I have of my parents," Harry said, his voice calm, "is what I saw and heard in our third year when the dementors came near me," he gave Draco a pointed look, "which is the reason I always fainted."

Draco smiled apologetically.

"Therefore, I only know what Dumbledore has told me. My parents were members of the Order of the Phoenix along with their three school friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Around the time I was born, a prophecy was made about a boy who had the power to vanquish the Dark Lord." The image from Dumbledore's office, where Harry had heard the prophecy in its entirety, appeared. He watched Draco as Draco watched Trelawney. To his surprise, the blond boy did not react to the prophecy.

For his part, Draco had imagined something very similar to what the prophecy said. He knew his father had gone in search of a prophecy concerning Harry and the Dark Lord at the Ministry of Magic when he was arrested.

Harry continued speaking, "Trelawney made the prophecy to Dumbledore in the Hog's Head when he had gone to interview her for the Divination position and they were overheard; that's how Voldemort found out about it. Someone heard the first half of the prophecy."

"Who?" asked Draco.

"Snape," answered Harry, disdainfully. "He reported it to Voldemort who became obsessed with it. He wanted to kill the baby the prophecy was about before it could grow up to defeat him. But I wasn't the only child born at the end of July to members of the Order. Neville's birthday was yesterday."

Draco snorted. "But Longbottom's useless."

Harry looked away. "All the more reason for Voldemort to have gone after Neville, but he didn't. He went after me. Snape... I guess he got scared, or... well, for whatever reason, he went to Dumbledore and told him what he had done. My parents and I went into hiding. And as we all know, Peter Pettigrew was made Secret-Keeper and he betrayed my parents to Voldemort. But when Voldemort came to kill me, my..." Harry stopped; he cleared his throat and tried to continue. "Voldemort killed my father first. He tried to stop him from getting to my mom and me. Once he was dead, Voldemort found us. He tried to get her to let me go, he even promised to let her go free but she sacrificed herself for me, and that's why, when Voldemort tried to kill me, her sacrifice protected me and the curse rebounded."

Draco was astonished by this account. There were stories, of course, but most of them concluded that it had been a special power that Harry had that had stopped the Dark Lord.

"Uh, anyway. Voldemort didn't die, but he didn't have a body anymore and he was very weak. I was sent off to live with my aunt and uncle because my mother's blood would continue to protect me as long as I was living under her sister's roof. I didn't... they didn't like me very much. Until I got my Hogwarts letter, I didn't know anything about my parents. I didn't know anything about the magical world... I always kind of thought there was something different about me. Strange things that happened and everything but also... I knew there had to be somewhere out there where I belonged."

Draco nodded sympathetically. The hidden emotion he could sense and could almost see in Harry's eyes was heartbreaking. So he had had nothing for eleven years. No love, no family, and no real understanding of who he was.

"When Hagrid gave me my letter and took me to Diagon Alley, everything made sense. It all clicked."

There was that word again, clicked, thought Draco wryly. The day before, Harry had said that the bond had felt like something had clicked into place. It was like little pieces of Harry Potter coming together, bit by bit.

"And I met this very arrogant boy in a robe shop..."

Draco stopped him. "... and you were completely rude to him; you made him feel inferior to you, which he had never felt before in his entire life."

Harry laughed. "Anyway, I went to Hogwarts. I found out about my parents and magic and everything and then, at the end of the year, I met Voldemort."

Draco nodded; he had heard the tales. Harry pulled another memory from his mind. "I think it's best if you see each time I have met with Voldemort, I think it might give us clues. Draco gulped nervously, but nodded anyway. He hoped to never see the Dark Lord again.

Harry nodded to him and Draco pressed his wand into the swirling waters of the Pensieve. He was sucked into a memory of Hogwarts. Harry dropped into the scene beside him and they watched as the Golden Trio made their way through the maze and then Harry defeated Quirrel.

Harry went white when he saw Quirrel's charred and disfigured body. Draco didn't hesitate to pull them both out of the memory; any more of it, and he'd be sick as well.

It took Harry two cups of tea and leftover cake to manage to continue with his story.

"Second year, I met Voldemort again. He was the Heir of Slytherin, you see, and in his time at Hogwarts he'd figured out how to open the Chamber of Secrets. He found out that he couldn't kill half the student body and stay at the school, so he closed it. But he stored the information about it and a piece of his soul in a diary so that, someday, he could come back and finish what he'd started. It was the diary that your father put in Ginny's cauldron during our second year, which possessed her and forced her to open the Chamber of Secrets. When I killed the basilisk, I also destroyed the diary."

"M-my father?" Draco looked alarmed for a moment, before he realized it wasn't all that shocking. "He picked that fight with Weasleys' dad that day, didn't he? Used it as a distraction."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I think Voldemort asked your father for it after he was resurrected; I don't think he was pleased to know it was destroyed."

Draco's cheeks were tinted a light pink, probably embarrassment at who his father had been. Harry pulled the memory from his mind and Draco watched as Tom Riddle told his own story, and then he saw Harry injured and he immediately reached for Real Harry's hand. Real Harry squeezed back as they watched his younger self destroy the diary.

Once they were out of the memory, Draco took a deep breath. "I think I've had enough."

Harry looked at him apprehensively. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Draco shook his head. "Nothing. I just need to think."

Harry nodded and watched as the blond went upstairs. Neither of them had spent very much time on the second floor but Draco thought it would be the perfect place to sit and think.

Nothing Harry had said had been a huge shock. The entire school had known about his adventures and his father had been a participant in more than one episode. Yet, there were still things he learned. No one knew what happened in Godric's Hollow when Voldemort visited. He certainly did not know Harry Potter had not known about his own parents.

Harry was a bigger emotional mess than Draco had ever imagined but it helped him understand the Boy Who Lived a little better. Harry couldn't love him the way he was now. He would have to know love before he could express it, but Draco didn't know what to do about that, either. He wasn't sure he understood love well enough to be handing out advice.

Then there was the prophecy. He hadn't been surprised, not really, everyone knew Harry was special. Yet, there were riddles within it that Draco could not come to terms with. And after thinking it a funny joke, he couldn't help wondering what life would be like if the Dark Lord had gone after Neville Longbottom instead. He couldn't help wondering if his relationship with Harry might have been harder to pursue... as if it wasn't hard enough already. Had Neville managed to die, Voldemort would have gone on to conquer the entire world. Then again, if Neville had succeeded at defeating the Dark Lord, Harry would have grown up in the wizarding world with parents that hated Draco and his family. Instead of six years of hatred to work through, they would have had sixteen, because he was sure Harry would have hated him from birth.

Overall, the conversation had left Draco tired, and he found himself drifting off to sleep on the floor of the master bedroom.

---

The next morning, Draco went downstairs with his head clear and found Harry in the kitchen. The dark haired man was stirring a pot on the stove furiously. A book was open on the countertop and Draco walked further in.

Harry didn't notice him until Draco was at his back, reading over his shoulder.

"Good morning," Draco said, his breath hitching as he inhaled Harry's masculine scent.

Harry stiffened but ignored the blond.

Draco finally recognized the book. "What are you doing with Advanced Potion-Making?"

Harry continued to stir angrily and did not answer.

Draco frowned at his back. "You're angry."

The stirring sped up and Draco tried to concentrate on what he could have possibly done to anger Harry. "Are you going to tell me why?"

Harry stopped stirring. He moved mechanically away from the stove and towards the cutting table, where he began to crush a cupful of spider legs.

Draco sighed, moving, once again, over to where Harry stood. "How could I possibly have pissed you off? I've been upstairs since yesterday!"

Finally, Harry gave Draco a long, hard, piercing look. He pulled out a handful of roots from his potion supplies and grabbed a rather large knife to start chopping them.

Draco's eyes widened. "You're angry because I've been upstairs?"

Harry shrugged and looked away from the blond. Draco studied his profile and tried to find clues. Unfortunately, nothing came to mind. He sighed and focused his attention elsewhere. If he knew the dark-haired boy at all, sooner or later, Harry would tell him what he'd done wrong.