Title: On the Wings of Redemption

By: Aina Song

Fandom(s): Harry Potter/ Yu Yu Hakusho

Genre: Yaoi

Rating: NC-17

Warning(s): Some Het; Language; OOC; Depression; Attempted Suicide; Vampiric Action.

Pairing(s): Yeah, like that's not obvious.

Reviews: Yes, please! For the love of God, someone give me a cookie!

Author's Note: Standard Disclaimer. This story was not written for money. Compliant with the book series. Guest-starring a character from Twilight.

Another Note: This story, unbelievably, took me little over two years to complete! *whew* It has, by far, become the longest project in my arsenal. Writer's block was a constant dark cloud over my head, and many chapters had to be re-written. But I feel very proud of myself for having stuck through it, and I eagerly await the response of my readers. Enjoy!

Teaser: Leave the past where it belongs. Let its hurts wash over you, accept them, but then let them go. Do not turn back. Keep moving forward. Time heals all.

Chapter Ten - I'm Trying…

The early morning sun peered through the window, spilling its light across Harry's eyes. With a grimace, he turned his head away, shifting in search of that comforting presence that had made the rest of his night bearable. His hand found something solid and warm, covered in softness; his fingers closed around that soft layer, and he tucked himself closer. Someone gave a quiet chuckle near his ear, and he blinked his eyes open.

Even without his glasses, Harry could never mistake Draco Malfoy's slate-grey eyes and slow smirk, and he realized the Slytherin was leaning over him. "Morning," the blond greeted.

Harry returned the smile, still lingering in that pleasant limbo between sleep and awake. "You stayed…"

"I would have gone back to the chair," Malfoy answered as softly, passing Harry his glasses so that the dark-haired youth could see properly. "But I didn't want you to wake up thinking I'd abandoned you. Besides," he added with another smirk. "You've got a pretty tight hold on my shirt, and I'd prefer not to tear it."

Glancing down at his hand, Harry felt his face grow warm to discover that his fingers were indeed fisting the other's shirtfront. He rubbed the fabric between his fingers, feeling its softness play against his skin, but finally he released the shirt and moved his hand away.

He looked up again, and Malfoy gave a soft smile, hinting that he had not minded. "Did you sleep well?"

"I think so," Harry replied honestly. "I don't remember that I dreamed anything else, but maybe I should take that as a good sign. You?"

"Better than I had in months," Malfoy responded so fervently, it seemed blasphemy to believe it was anything less than truth. Then the smirk slowly fled his face, to be replaced by a look of quiet sincerity. "Thank you, Harry."

"For what?"

"For letting me sit with you on the train. For not casting me aside when you learned I'm a demon and my uncle's a vampire." He paused, his gaze searching Harry's dark green eyes. "For needing me to stay here with you last night…"

Harry's heart raced unexpectedly under the intensity of that gaze, and he flicked his tongue out to lick dry lips. "You're welcome," he whispered. "But, in the spirit of honesty… I don't think I could've trusted anyone else to do it." He passed his tongue between his lips once more, another flush of warmth filling his face and neck as he watched Malfoy's eyes flick down at the movement. "W-where do you think we should go from here?"

Malfoy swallowed, seeming suddenly to compose himself, and his eyes lifted again to meet Harry's. "We should forget last night ever happened," he softly lamented. "I should go back to the chair, or leave the hospital wing altogether, and you should try to forget what you said about trusting me."

He paused, something in his slate-grey eyes causing them to smolder; "But I can't go back to what we should do, Harry. And I don't think you can either…" Lowering his head, he carefully brushed his lips over Harry's before bringing their mouths together in a truer kiss.

Harry wondered that his first reaction was not to pull away. But Malfoy's lips felt incredibly warm and inviting against his own… Harry brought his hand up and grasped the back of the blond's head, his silent request clear. He felt the other smile against his mouth in response, and Malfoy tilted his head, deepening the kiss. Harry's fingers threaded through Malfoy's tawny strands, and the tiniest whimper escaped his throat as he felt a tongue quest against his lips. After a breath's hesitation, Harry let him in. And his head reeled as that tongue danced with his own.

Eventually, though, Harry had to break the kiss and turn his head away with a great gasp for air. He felt so dizzy, the back of his skull was tingling, and he could swear that his lips had gone numb. Malfoy let him breathe, sweeping his mouth along Harry's jaw to gently sink his teeth into the lobe of Harry's ear. And then the blond spoke, his whispering voice unbelievably husky. "Harry…"

Swallowing another gasp of air, he opened his eyes just as Malfoy lifted his head. The blond Slytherin's own eyes held a strange new light, shatteringly honest and almost pleading. His heart racing again in answer, Harry bit his lip and moved his hand, sweeping tawny strands back to reveal the dark red scar hidden beneath. Malfoy held very still as Harry lightly traced his fingertips along the scar, but the Gryffindor could tell that it must still have been annoyingly sensitive. Pushing up on his other elbow, Harry carefully brought his lips close to the scar and kissed it. Malfoy closed his eyes with a shuddering breath, and the blond tilted his head away to claim Harry's mouth again in another kiss, as thorough and pure as the first.

~o~

The next day was a Monday, and one abuzz with many stares and much murmuring. However uncomfortable such attention made him, Harry was long used to this and could ignore it with little difficulty. He knew his week's absence from classes could never have escaped notice, not in a school which thrived on magic and rumors. Yet he was relieved when it came time to join his last class for the day.

Ron and Hermione glanced back when Harry paused just within the doorway to Defense Against the Dark Arts. "You okay, mate?" Ron asked.

Harry clutched the single crutch tucked under his left arm, breathing heavily, but he looked up and gave his friends a quivering smile. Though the bandages had come off early yesterday morning, still much of his strength had not yet returned to his spine and legs. At least Kurama had been satisfied that his prediction had been proven true - Harry needed no one's help to stand upright or to navigate about the castle. The crutch simply provided something to lean on if he found himself momentarily winded or dizzy.

The students' desks had again been shoved up against the walls, baring the floor. Slowly shuffling further into the classroom, he let Hermione hold his crutch so that he could sit himself atop one of the desks. Then he took the crutch again, settling it between his knees so that he would be ready to use it again when needed. Ron set Harry's schoolbag on the desk as well, himself and Hermione standing to either side of Harry.

Ron suddenly sputtered. "B-bloody hell…!"

Harry and Hermione looked in the direction he was staring. In an extra chair placed to the side of the professor's desk sat George Weasley. The older redhead grinned, straightening to his feet and coming over. "Hey, baby brother. Surprised to see me?"

"I'm a damned sight more than surprised," Ron declared, the edges of his ears going pink, a well-known sign that his temper was rising. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Tut, tut," George calmly shook his head. "Such language in the classroom. Do I have to force myself to take points away from you, a member of my own family?"

That gave Ron pause. "What?"

Harry decided George had had enough fun at his brother's expense. "Ron," he softly intervened. "He's the Dark Arts professor for the underclassmen."

Laughing at Ron's renewed sputtering, George explained himself. Harry sat back and left him to it, steadfastly ignoring the stares from the rest of the class. But then he felt the intensity of one pair of eyes in particular and looked up.

Draco Malfoy was quietly watching him from across the room, and suddenly it was as though the rest of the world had grayed in stark comparison. The blond's mouth quirked in a slow smirk, and he gave a quick wink of his eye. Harry's heart jumped; he briefly smiled in return, feeling his skin grow warm beneath his school robes. Both turned their heads to the front as the secondary door slammed open.

Urameshi entered his classroom, followed by the silver-haired Kurama and the dark demon Hiei. The students all fell silent, waiting. Shedding his dark cloak, Urameshi tossed it negligently atop his desk (Harry could hear George's very soft whistle in reaction to the other professor's many tattoos and wild hair).

"As if you couldn't already tell," Urameshi spoke, his voice as always resonating with hidden power, "we have a guest. Professor Weasley teaches this class to the younger students, and he'll be sittin' in with us today. By the looks on most of your faces, I can guess that you'd met him before. I can believe that, since he doesn't look much older than the rest of you. Just behave yourselves and save your questions for later."

The students accepted this order with a scattered "Yes, Urameshi." George shook with silent laughter, crossing the floor and claiming again his chair beside the other professor's desk.

"Right," Urameshi went on. "Now, if any of you were payin' attention last week, you'll know that today's the day we see who's got what it takes to hold their own against demons."

Hermione's hand was up like a shot. "Didn't you also say that we'd each be tested individually?"

"I did," Urameshi smirked.

As though on cue, the fiery-eyed Hiei moved toward the center of the floor. Shuffling his feet just slightly apart from each other, he stretched his hands together before his torso, palms out, fingers spread. His knees were bent, his spine was straight and tense.(8) "This," he hissed, "is one of the baser defensive stances. It doesn't protect against much, but as you advance in skill you will come to learn that most early defenses are founded on this stance. I suggest you each take a moment to try it."

There was a general shuffling about, as the seventh years made room for themselves and tried to copy the dark demon. Kurama left Urameshi's side, coming round to wordlessly inspect each student's efforts. Some needed correcting, other were encouraged to try again. When he reached Hermione, the silver fox gently nudged her feet further apart. He stepped behind Ron, placing his hands upon the redhead's shoulders and pulling them back, urging Ron to straighten his posture. Then he came around again and looked between them.

Harry, not yet willing to force himself again to his feet, had simply duplicated the position of the arms. He sat with his back straight, his eyes meeting Kurama's gaze in silent challenge, as though daring the silver demon to ask more of him. Kurama's golden eyes gleamed with approval; he nodded his head and moved on.

The only other time he paused in his inspection was when he'd reached Malfoy. But it was only a brief pause, and the fox moved on without offering a single alteration. It seemed the blond Slytherin was the only one to have perfected the stance on the first try.

As his silver-haired companion returned to the front, Hiei released his stance, thereby giving his permission for the students to do so as well. But then he straightened his knees until they locked in place, and he crossed his arms up before his chest. Without having to be told, the seventh years mimicked him again, and Kurama made another round to inspect them. Hiei's third and last stance was a variation of its predecessor. He sank to one knee and lifted the cross of his arms over his head.

Just as for the first one, Harry only copied the position of the arms. And, just as for the first one, Malfoy needed no correction.

At last Hiei moved aside, and Urameshi pushed away from his desk and snapped his fingers. His students gasped and murmured, some even screamed, as a giant sphere of darkness appeared in the exact spot that Hiei had so recently vacated. Its size alone threatened to fill the room. It crackled noisily with energy, and Harry almost thought he could see flashing streaks of electricity passing over its surface.

Urameshi stepped forward and around the dark sphere. "I'm really bending a few rules, opening this thing up in human territory. But with the forest outside forbidden to students, we'll use this suihou(9) for a substitute. I know there's a spell or something that can suck all the light out of a room, right? Well, this is basically the same idea."

Many students glanced about at that, but this time it was Harry that raised his hand. "You want us to try to defend ourselves in the dark?"

"It's the perfect challenge," the silver-haired Kurama answered. "Not too easy, and in a controlled environment, so you need not fear coming to true harm."

Urameshi nodded. "Fox-boy will be your opponent. You'll each follow him into the suihou and block his attacks as best you can for five minutes. When your time is up, you'll be ejected from the suihou, and it'll be someone else's turn."

It was something else altogether to watch, Harry mused. The air in the classroom had grown thick with tension. Kurama would escort each student into that sphere, leaving the rest of the class to stare and strain hard to listen for any clues as to what to expect. Yet it seemed the sphere had a power equal to that of the Muffliato spell; not a sound escaped its barriers. Every five minutes, whoever had taken their turn would stumble out of the sphere - some holding an arm or favoring a leg, others collapsing on the floor as tough having fallen down a flight of stairs. Urameshi would instantly come over to move those that had fallen a safe distance away, often assisted by George Weasley, who seemed to need something better to do than simply stand by and watch.

When his turn ended, Ron was one of those to walk out of the dark sphere on his own two feet, though he was holding his arms wrapped around his stomach and it seemed he had sprained his ankle. Harry had to beg a rain check - he could never attempt the test in his current condition. Kurama gave him a look of such understanding, turning instead to Hermione. However, just as the silver fox offered to take her hand and lead her in…

"No," Hiei suddenly hissed.

Kurama jerked his hand back and turned his head, and Harry looked over the fox's shoulder toward the crimson-eyed demon. A bright purple light was glowing behind Hiei's head cloth. Suddenly remembering the darker demon's third eye, Harry bit his lip, already suspecting what came next.

"She must not enter," Hiei quietly insisted. He met Hermione's stare, and his fiery eyes narrowed. "You should exercise better caution. The suihou is a compression of raw energy; the secret you protect so dearly would not survive such a risk."

Hermione gasped, a hand flying to her mouth, and she turned away. Ron was there in an instant, ignoring his bruised stomach and pulling her within the circle of his arms. Harry looked at the both of them, sympathy filling his heart but hardly caring just yet that their secret had been exposed. He fervently agreed with Hiei that the safety of their unborn child was far more important than a classroom test.

Kurama stepped away from Hermione and moved on.

Malfoy was one of the last to step within the dark sphere. Harry found himself waiting tensely, wondering how a newly reborn demon half-breed would fair against the more experienced Kurama. When the five minutes had passed, however, the blond Slytherin did not immediately emerge. More time ticked by, and Harry's heart began to pound against his ribs. But then, just as it occurred to him to worry, Malfoy tumbled out of the sphere at last, rolling along the floor until he crouched on his hands and knees. The blond Slytherin jerked his head up and gave the black sphere a dark scowl.

Kurama emerged more sedately, and it seemed he was striving hard not to laugh at Malfoy's expression. "Don't look at me like that. The rules said five minutes, and you lost. Though I commend you for your spirit. Demons frown upon the idea of giving in."

Malfoy paused, and his scowl was slowly replaced by a reluctant smirk.

"That's right," Urameshi approved. "Learn to take a compliment."

~o~

Hermione was still upset after class had ended, so Ron immediately whisked her off to the Gryffindor common room. George Weasley spoke briefly with Urameshi, and then he too hurried off to that selfsame tower, presumably to check on Hermione and to visit with his brother.

Harry lingered a bit, watching Urameshi and his demon friends talk a moment in a corner of the room before leaving through the secondary door. Malfoy seemed to have the same idea, taking more time than absolutely necessary to check over the books in his bag. When the secondary door slammed shut behind the three older demons, Malfoy hefted his bag and crossed to where Harry still sat upon his desk.

He took Harry's schoolbag, wordlessly setting it with his own upon the floor. Then the blond Slytherin looked up, grey eyes finding emerald green, and Harry's heart missed a beat. He did not resist when Malfoy set his hands to Harry's waist, gently helping him to the floor, and Harry instinctively leaned in when those arms came around the small of his back. One hand came up to cradle the back of Harry's neck, and Malfoy lightly passed over Harry's lips with his own before bringing their mouths together in a quietly urgent kiss. Closing his eyes with a small whimper, Harry fisted the front of the blond's school robes and gave in to the sensation, willingly parting his lips when he felt Malfoy's questing tongue.

Several seconds later, Malfoy pulled away to allow Harry to breathe. He carefully tugged the dark-haired wizard close, now cradling Harry's head to his shoulder. "I've been waiting all day to do that…"

Harry felt a flush of warmth start up his chest to color itself around his throat, but he could not deny his own feelings. Finding himself again in Malfoy's arms brought to him an inexplicable sense of returning home.

He felt Malfoy's hand leave his head, and a moment later the blond was carefully stroking both hands along Harry's ribs. "How are you holding up?"

"I had a little trouble leaving my bed this morning," Harry quietly admitted. "But once I'm up, it's not so difficult to move about."

"I wish I could've been there for you."

"So did I."

Malfoy kissed the side of Harry's brow, finally drawing away, and he took both of their schoolbags over his shoulder. "Come on," he said. "Homework in the library, and then I'll walk you to your tower."

Harry propped his crutch under his arm. "I don't want to go to the tower yet."

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of the blond's mouth. Reaching up, he passed the fingers of his free hand through the other's dark strands. "And where would you like to go on this fine day?"

"Anywhere," Harry challenged, suddenly impish. "Everywhere. The unused classroom in the Astronomy tower. The Quidditch fields. I'd even follow you to your common room, if you want."

That last gave Malfoy pause, slate-grey eyes widening just a fraction. "Really, Harry? You'd come with me to the Slytherin dungeons? But… everyone would see us…"

Harry's mouth turned down in a slight frown. "I'm not afraid of what they'd say. And I don't much care what they'd think. Do you?"

"No, of course not," the blond responded instantly, quietly soothing Harry's ire before it gave into temper. "And I'm not saying you should, either, but…" He sighed, fingers flexing uncertainly around the nape of the Gryffindor's neck. "Harry, I'm a Malfoy. I'm my father's son. And I'm a demon. I'm… significantly less than worthy to be seen in any connection to you."

"You're not worried what the other Slytherins might say about you," Harry realized. "You're worried you'll damage my reputation."

Malfoy nodded. "The library wing would've been easy enough to explain. We could've said we'd been assigned a co-written Potions essay as punishment. After all, we used to haggle each other all the time; it wouldn't have taken much to convince someone that we'd been at it again. But if I were to bring you down to my common room…" He shook his head, and there was an odd light in his eyes. "They'd never let me explain that away. They'd think I was up to something. And whether they approved or not, it still would mean bad news for you."

Harry sighed, stepping closer so that the fingers behind his neck could coax his forehead forth to rest against Malfoy's brow. How was it that he was suddenly the confident one, and reassuring the once-cocky Draco Malfoy, at that. "If you want to hide me away from them a little longer, then fine," he conceded. "I'll even return the favor, and not tell Ron or Hermione until you're ready. But I really couldn't care less about my reputation, Draco. Never have."

"You deserve so much more," the blond softly murmured, unnamed emotion catching in his throat and causing his voice to crack.

"I'm not looking for more," Harry argued. "To be honest, I'd like nothing better than to just leave it all behind and find a world where no one knew me, where I could be free to be who I am, wizard and all, and never have to be reminded that I'm some great hero. But that's probably impossible, so I try not to think about it." He paused, "Whatever this thing is you started between us… I think I like it. And I'm a little curious to see where it's going, but to do that, I need you. Can't we just… wipe the slate clean and start over? You know, starting from the day you sat with me on the train?"

Malfoy closed his eyes and lifted his head away, only to bury his brow in the cove of Harry's throat instead. And Harry felt the blond's warm breath wash into the collar of his school robes as Malfoy whispered, "Harry… I'm trying…"

8) This stance was actually practiced by Yusuke during his earlier training with Genkai. I've also seen him use the other two in the midst of battle. Umm… somewhere…

9) Suihou = bubble. I wanted to throw my readers off by having Yusuke call it something unexpectedly harmless, something only he would dare to call it.