Harry heaved a sigh of relief as they entered Slytherin house. He flopped down onto the sofa before the fireplace and rubbed his eyes.
"It all happened very quickly," Draco said as he sat next to him. Harry leaned over and tipped his head as though it were resting on Draco's shoulder.
"I hope they're not mad at me," Harry said. "It was too much, all at once."
"They understand," Draco said. "Well, everything but me. They don't understand that."
"I don't either," Harry said. "Why are you the only one who can hear me? Of all people."
"Maybe you're secretly in love with me," Draco looked down at him teasingly.
Harry lifted his head and looked at him with a mysterious glint in his eye. "Maybe," he said.
Draco blushed. He cleared his throat and tried not to smile. He changed the subject. "So is there anything you want to ask me?"
"Yes," Harry shook his head. "But I don't know where to start."
"It's pretty simple," Draco said. "The Dark Lord marked me to punish my father. He gave me the mission to kill Dumbledore because he knew one of two things would come of it: either I would succeed and my soul would be destroyed forever, or I would fail and would be killed in the effort. Either way, my father would be truly punished for his transgression."
"That's terrible," Harry breathed. "Did you know you were being used to that end?"
"No," Draco looked down at his hands. "I was proud at first, I thought I had been chosen. I thought it meant I had potential, that I was special." He forced himself to look up at Harry, "You've always been special, Potter. I never was. I had to buy every bit of respect I ever got. Or get my father to extort it on my behalf," he laughed ruefully.
Harry touched his head sympathetically, the warmth of his invisible hand spreading across Draco's scalp.
"Severus is the one who showed me the truth," he continued. "He prevented me from killing Professor Dumbledore to save me, you know. He told me what lay before me if I stayed on the Dark Lord's path. He took me under his wing, as it were. He made me understand why he fought against the rising darkness. He became more of a father to me than mine ever was," his throat tightened up. He hadn't known those words were going to come out of his mouth until the moment they emerged.
"What did you do in the war?" Harry asked. He was leaning forward, intensely focused on Draco's' face.
"I pledged my loyalty to Severus to protect myself against Voldemort," Draco touched his arm where the mark lay hidden. "And then I returned to Voldemort to stand by his side."
"Why?" Harry shook his head in disbelief.
"To send word of the Death Eaters' activities back to Minerva, so Severus wouldn't have to risk it himself. He was too close to Voldemort for that kind of deception," Draco said. "You could say I was the wizarding world's most miserable spy," he smiled sadly.
"I didn't know," Harry lowered his head. "I thought you were one of them."
"Everyone does," Draco said. "But sometimes that's the price you pay to right your wrongs."
"You couldn't tell anyone?"
"I couldn't risk anyone finding out," Draco said.
Harry sat up, his eyes shining. "Thank you for telling me."
"Thank Minerva," Draco smiled weakly. "I would have taken it to my grave."
Harry laid back and leaned his head to the side as though he were resting on Draco's shoulder again. He stroked his hand over Draco's arm with the soothing hint of warm, faint pressure that Draco had come to associate with his touch. Draco laid his head back and listened to the fire crackle, and let the warmth of Harry's insubstantial touch wash over him. He closed his eyes and before he knew it, he was asleep.
Draco was in the corridor again. He turned immediately and spotted Harry standing behind him, looking a bit surprised.
"I didn't know you were falling asleep," he laughed.
"I didn't either."
"Come here," Harry seized Draco by the arms and pressed a kiss to his lips. Draco swept him up in his arms and held him close as their tongues pushed desperately against each other.
"I feel like we have so little time," Draco gasped, his hands raking down Harry's back. He looked hungrily into Harry's eyes and his mouth watered.
"We need a bed," Harry said. "It's your dream."
"Bed, over there,' Draco pointed and one of the stone walls pushed back to reveal a luxuriously appointed bedroom.
"Hurry, you might wake up" Harry drew Draco into the room and pulled him down onto the mattress.
They tore at each other's clothes, stripping down until they were both naked. Draco's head swam as he realized what they were rushing towards. He pressed Harry into the sheets and kissed his way down his chest and across his stomach.
"Merlin, I want you so badly," Harry groaned as Draco kissed his hips.
"You smell so good," Draco ran the tip of his nose up the centerline of Harry's abdomen. He flicked his tongue across one of Harry's nipples, eliciting another groan from the other boy. "You feel so real," he worked his way back up to Harry's neck.
"Kiss me," Harry whispered, drawing Draco's face to his. Draco obeyed, pressing deeper and deeper. He sucked Harry's bottom lip into his mouth and held it, listening to his ragged breath.
Their hands collided, each stroking the other's knob with eager pulls. Draco slid his hands down between Harry's legs and ran the tip of his finger over Harry's entrance. Harry nodded desperately and pulled Draco down to kiss him again. Draco entered and worked gently, patiently, as the muscles slowly relaxed and yielded. Finally he shifted his hips and pressed forward, entering Harry firmly.
"Yes," Harry breathed, clutching Draco's back. "Please," he begged.
Draco moved slowly at first, then faster as the other boy begged for more. He tugged Harry's member, every ounce of his focus on bringing Harry to climax. He thrust with long, confident strokes and dipped down to kiss Harry again and again, his face flushed and sweating, his own climax building inside.
Harry suddenly arched his back and cried out. "Yes!" he shouted, his hands clawing at Draco's back as Draco came hard. They bucked and thrust, their bodies colliding with delicious agony.
The thrall slowly passed, and the convulsions slowed. Draco kissed Harry tenderly and brushed his hair back from his forehead as he slipped free. They curled up together and Harry nestled under Draco's chin. Draco held him tightly and buried his nose in Harry's hair. He wanted to carry the scent of the boy, the feel of him in his arms, into the waking world.
"I need to get you back," he murmured. "I need you like this, not just when I'm asleep."
"I need this, too," Harry said, stroking his hand across Draco's chest. "I've always liked you," he said. "Even when I hated you."
"Me too," Draco said. "Especially when I knew I wasn't really the person you hated anymore." His emotional defenses were down again, impossible to guard his words when asleep. "And when I thought you were dead, I thought I would never get the chance to show you otherwise."
"We'll figure something out," Harry raised his head and stroked his hand through Draco's blond hair.
"When I get you back where you belong," Draco said. "I'll be sure never to let you go."
"I'll hold you to that," Harry smiled and kissed him again.
Draco awoke just before supper, sprawled and disoriented on the sofa. Harry was curled up on top of him, his eyes closed as though asleep, too. Draco laid still for a moment and studied their reflection. He could feel nearly nothing of the boy, less than a feather's weight. His eyes welled up involuntarily as he wondered whether he would ever have him here in the waking world.
He heaved a shuddery sigh and wiped his eyes. Harry lifted his head in concern.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Draco steadied his voice. He struggled with a sincerity that came so unfamiliarly to him. It twisted in his throat and tried to become sarcastic and sharp. He clenched his jaw and fought to say what he felt with no defensiveness. "I need you here," he said roughly. "I just need you." Tears welled up behind his eyes. "To be with me," he added.
"I want that, too," Harry sounded optimistic. "Hopefully it won't be too much longer."
They sat for a few more minutes and then headed up to the Great Hall for supper. Granger and Weasley were already there, huddled together at the Gryffindor table, Weasley's hand absentmindedly stroking Granger's hair affectionately.
Draco sat at the Slytherin table with the mirror at his side. A murmur spread throughout the room as the other students who had stayed on wondered what he was doing with it.
"Hey Malfoy," Weasley called. "You should let him sit at his own table."
"He's a bleeding idiot. You know that, right?" Draco asked Harry's reflection.
"He still doesn't understand it, give him a break," Harry gently chided.
"Weasley, he's not the mirror. He doesn't live in the mirror," Draco said witheringly over his shoulder. "He's free to go wherever he wants."
"Then tell him to come sit with his mates," Weasley said sharply.
"He can hear you, you utter berk," Draco said.
Harry stood and went to the Gryffindor table and Draco lazily tilted the mirror so Weasley and Granger could see. Harry sat beside Ron and touched his shoulder.
"Hey, I can feel that!" Weasley grinned. "That's better than nothing."
"We can't talk to him, though," Granger said. "Malfoy, could you-"
"You're welcome to move to the Slytherin table if you need my assistance," Draco said with a smirk. He leaned on his elbows over his plate, fingers laced together casually as though he were in no hurry.
"You should move to our table," Weasley said petulantly.
Draco said nothing. He lifted his goblet and drank deeply to cover a laugh. Of course he would move if Harry asked him to, but until then he felt he had a right to needle Weasley in return for his bullheaded assumptions earlier.
"You're terrible," Harry appeared at his elbow and sat down again. "Tell them to come over here," he turned and waved his friends over.
"Come on, little Gryffindors," Draco said lightly.
Weasley and Granger came around and sat grumpily across the table. It took some effort to get the mirror positioned in a way that would show Harry's reflection well enough for conversation. Beneath the table Draco felt the warm mist of Harry's hand slip over the top of his.
They prattled endlessly about Christmas Eve with the Weasley clan, and gossiped about innumerable ginger brothers whose names Draco couldn't keep track of. Harry pantomimed as many of his reactions as he could and Draco translated anything that defied gestures.
"Where are Professors McGonagall, Trelawney and Flitwick?" Harry asked via Draco.
"Still in the library," Granger said. "They're working very hard."
"When we're done here we should go up and relieve them," Draco said. "Minerva will work herself to exhaustion if we don't."
"Oh come off it," Weasley sneered. "Acting so high and mighty because you're on a first name basis with the Headmistress."
"Is that what you think?" Draco sneered in return. "You think I'm just showing off?"
"Now hang on," Harry said. Nobody looked at him.
"That's exactly what you're doing," Weasley said. "Or your name isn't Draco Malfoy."
"Hey!" Harry waved his hands frantically to draw their attention. "Stop!"
"You know fuck all about it. You know about as much about it as your sodding parents know about effective birth control," Draco tossed his fork down and stood to leave.
"Draco," Harry grasped Malfoy's arm to try to stop him. Draco scowled at him, a rebuke frozen on his tongue.
"Just wait a minute," Harry cupped his face in his hands. Draco felt the invisible warmth and gazed past it to the mirror's reflection. He saw Harry from the back and wished he could see his face instead. He knew Harry was trying to make eye contact.
Granger and Weasley were also staring at the reflection, stunned into silence by the intimate gesture. Draco felt his anger soften. It would be so easy to have his way, to say whatever he wanted to say to that ginger twonk and leave without anything stopping him. He could duck out of Harry's grip as easily as strolling through fog. But he wouldn't. And the fact that Harry trusted that he wouldn't meant he doubly wouldn't.
"Tell him that I need both of you to try to get along," Harry said, his voice very close and pleading.
"He wants me to tell you that we need to get along," Draco said flatly.
"That's easy for him to say," Weasley grumped.
"Nothing is easy for him right now," Draco snapped. "Especially speaking."
Weasley ducked his head guiltily.
"I don't like you either, Weasel," Draco said, "but this is the state of the world until we return Potter to his physical body. He needs everyone's support and it won't do to have his friends quarreling at every turn. So either find a way to work with me or kindly piss off."
"Malfoy," Harry groaned into his hand.
"What did he say?" Granger eyed Harry through the mirror.
"He's not terribly fond of what I just said,"
"Too right," Weasley harrumphed. "You sound just like Snape, you know that?"
"Shall we go see what our venerable professors have dug up?" Draco offered a venomous smile.
Weasley and Granger followed him out of the Great Hall, leaving a wake of stunned silence behind them. Granger walked beside the mirror as they climbed the stairs. She spoke softly to Harry, nothing he needed to respond to, just comforting thoughts and reassurances. Draco walked ahead and was first to the library doors.
"Hello?" he called to the back of the stacks. "Has anyone brought you supper?"
Professor Flitwick poked his head out from the forbidden Dark Arts section, "Good evening, Mister Malfoy," he said. "Yes, we had something brought up."
"Any luck?" Granger hovered just beyond the entrance to the gloomy bookcases, hesitant to violate school policy. "May I enter?"
"We will bring books to you," Professor Trelawney said pointedly.
They sat around a table and each thumbed through a book from the Dark Arts collection. Harry sat next to Draco and looked through his own book, with a little help turning the pages. The room was tense with concentration as they scanned the works for a clue to bring Harry back. After a while Draco felt warmth suffuse his fingers and knew Harry had slipped a hand over his. Granger cleared her throat delicately and Draco knew without looking up that she'd spotted Harry's gesture in the mirror.
It was late when they decided collectively to call it a night and pick it up in the morning. Professor McGonagall decreed that no one should search the Dark Arts stacks without a partner, to prevent any dangerous spells from invading vulnerable minds.
Draco stood in the corridor with the mirror and faced Weasley and Granger. He could anticipate the next argument.
"It's up to Harry where he wants to spend the night," he said before any demands could be made.
"Well of course he'll come to Gryffindor," Weasley said. "That's where he lives."
"What do you want to do, Harry?" Granger raised a hand to quiet Weasley.
"I don't want to hurt their feelings," Harry turned to Draco, his eyes worried.
"What if you went for a little while, just to spend a little time together?" Draco asked. "I know you surely have mirrors there, in spite of what your hair suggests." he raised an eyebrow in disapproval.
"Very funny," Harry smirked.
"I have something I need to do anyway," he said. "I'll be back down to Slytherin house a little later if you want to come by, Keep your hand on Granger's shoulder so she'll know you're still there" He turned to Granger, "He'll have to stick to yes and no answers. Try not to talk his ear off," he said.
"See you later," Harry touched his ear briefly and then turned to walk with his friends. His reflection receded with them, Weasley and Granger holding hands and Harry walking with his fingers on Granger's shoulder.
The three Gryffindors were such a familiar sight, both contemptible and comforting at the same time. Draco wondered what would happen once Harry was restored to full health, whether they would continue holding hands and spending time together and, well, they wouldn't be restricted to touching in dreams anymore. He felt lonely, ridiculously so since he could still hear Granger's and Weasley's voices echoing down the corridor. He told himself to toughen up and prepare for the possibility that Harry would no longer need him once he could be heard by everyone else.
When the trio was finally out of sight he transfigured the mirror back into a chair and left it outside of a classroom. Then he turned on his heel and headed for the staff quarters. It was late, but he suspected Professor McGonagall would not be in bed yet, knowing how her mind tended to work over a challenge. He knocked on her door and she opened it right away as though she was expecting company.
"Oh, Draco," she looked past him down the hallway. "I thought you were Sybill."
"Sorry," he smiled. "May I come in? I won't stay long."
"Of course," she stepped aside to allow him to enter.
He sat in a straight-backed chair as she curled up on the sofa with a blanket. The fireplace was crackling but the room still held the dank coolness that all rooms at Hogwarts acquired after a couple of unoccupied days.
"I assume Harry is with his friends," Professor McGonagall said, peering over her glasses at him.
"They decided hand waving and nodding was a fair trade for a bit of private conversation," Draco said ruefully.
"They're his friends," she smiled kindly. "Don't worry, he'll come back to you."
"So you can tell?" Draco winced painfully. "It's that obvious?"
"You boys have always been a little too interested in each other's business," she said. "It is less surprising than you may think that you would possess a special connection."
"Is that the reason I'm the only one who can hear him?" he asked.
"Perhaps so," she sighed. "Without knowing more about the spell that cursed him, it's difficult to know anything for sure."
Draco gazed thoughtfully into the fire for a few minutes. Professor McGonagall summoned a pot of tea and poured two cups.
"What else is on your mind, boy?" she asked firmly. "Out with it."
"You made me show my mark today," he said, trying not to sound resentful. "I swore to Severus that I wouldn't reveal its nature."
"Severus was a particularly secretive soul," she delicately sipped her tea. "At the time it was crucial to keep it hidden, to protect both you and him. But he was unable to conceive of a time when the Dark Lord's power would be destroyed and the war would end."
"You don't think there are people out there who would seek renewed vengeance if they found out?" Draco asked, gingerly touching his arm.
"There will always be people out there who will look for a reason to destroy what they disagree with," she pointed out. "Simply being a Malfoy may be reason enough for some. Returning to Hogwarts to complete your education may be reason enough for others." She laughed bitterly, "And frankly, I would say you're at greater risk if the mark is mistaken for a real one."
"What about everything else?" Draco asked. "The Elder Wand?"
"That is a bit stickier," Professor McGonagall frowned, the lines on her face deepening in the orange firelight. "I might guard that information a little more closely. If you choose to share it, choose wisely"
"We got lucky, you know," Draco said. "It used to keep me up at night, thinking about how badly it could have gone."
She regarded him sympathetically and didn't speak for a few moments. "Severus always had faith in you," she said. "Even when you had no faith in yourself."
"I had faith in myself," Draco snorted. "Too much, probably."
"No, you had ego," she chuckled. "That's not the same thing as faith." She set her cup down. "He was a great man, and he thought of you as a son," she said with a faraway smile. "I've come to think of you that way myself, actually."
"Does that mean I can start calling you mum?" he grinned teasingly.
"Of course not," she feigned horror. "But you're always welcome to come talk to me whenever you need to."
"Thank you," he said gratefully. "That means a lot."
He rose and bowed. She nodded gracefully in return. He started to leave, then paused with his hand on the door. "Do you miss Severus?" he asked, his throat suddenly tight.
"I do," Professor McGonagall said. "He became a good friend over the years, in spite of his efforts not to," she laughed softly. "He died to protect what he knew was right. There are few people in this world who would be willing to risk that." She looked up at him over her glasses, "You took the same risk. That's why I see so much of him in you."
Draco ducked his head and blinked rapidly. His eyes prickled and his throat shut. Unable to speak, he nodded and slipped out, pulling the door shut quietly behind him.