This is another short one. I'm just segueing towards some major events to come. Unfortunately, I've been distracted with other obligations, but I appreciate everyone who's sticking with me, and thanks soooo much for the reviews!
"The most advanced legilimens are able to perform Legilimency nonverbally and wandlessly. However, most wizards and witches must use the incantation Legilimens to enter their victim's mind. If a target is not skilled in Occlumency, the legilimens will be able to detect if the person is lying, as well as delve into their thoughts, emotions, and memories." Professor Onwachimba paced the aisles as most of his students took notes. Three of them did not.
While Hermione scribbled away, furiously recording nearly every word that the professor spoke, Ron cast a glance over his shoulder at Harry, who was gazing up at the sky through the window, clearly lost in his own thoughts. In the next roow, Draco absently turned his quill in his hands.
"Professor?" Hermione raised her hand.
"Yes, Miss Granger?"
"If an attempt at legilimency can be thwarted by the use of Occlumency, why are these spells not a part of the curriculum?"
"Well, the answer should be as simple as the nose on your face, Miss Granger." She gave him an indignant look. He held up a conciliatory hand. "Hear me out. In order for students to practice Occlumency, one would also have to teach one to successfully employ the Legilimency spell. Doing so would also open up individuals who are considered 'natural' legilimens to exposure. This spell is highly invasive, much like the Imperious curse. Obviously, those with natural ability have historically been looked upon with suspicion. Remember, Legilimency isn't mere mind reading. One's memories are exposed—their innermost desires and weaknesses. A legilimens can manipulate conscious thoughts and create frightening scenarios that are incredibly real to their victims. Tom Riddle was an accomplished Legilimens, known for his ability to drive his foes mad, even to possess them."
Although he was still looking away, Harry felt Ron's eyes upon him as he glanced in his direction once again. Across the aisle, he noticed someone else glancing surreptitiously at him as well.
"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Draco held out his hand, but Harry gave him a disdainful look.
"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," Harry replied in an icy tone.
Draco fought to keep his embarrassment from showing, but he felt his cheeks grow warm.
"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer, you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."
Draco knew instantly, that he'd said the wrong thing, but he couldn't back down in front of Crabbe and Goyle. He decided to act as if Harry and Ron's threats were empty attempts at intimidation. Then that pathetic rat bit Goyle and they all scarpered.
"We should go back and pound them!" Crabbe insisted.
"I'm not going back in there with a rat!" Draco declared.
"I'm hungry!" Goyle complained, holding his bleeding finger.
"Then go find someone else to give a belt, and take their sweets!" he replied, impatiently. "I'm going to the loo!"
Crabbe and Goyle looked at him oddly before heading back in the direction of their compartment. Draco turned in the direction of the lavatory at the end of the car. He deliberately slowed his steps as he approached Harry's compartment, hoping to catch another glimpse of the beautiful raven-haired boy. Unfortunately, they had drawn the shade at the door window. His shoulder's sagged and he slammed the door of the water closet when he entered.
Draco swiped away the tears that rolled, unbidden, down his face. Rebuffed by Harry Potter! How could he choose Weasley over him? To make matters worse, Draco had antagonized them both, and insulted Potter's parents just to save face in front of those insipid morons, Crabbe and Goyle. There was no possible way to make amends now. If Potter thought he was too good for Draco, then Draco would show him just how wrong he could be…
Draco averted his eyes from Harry's bloodied face, as he lay stiff and staring mutinously at him. He snatched up the invisibility cloak and covered him with it.
"Enjoy your trip back to London," he said.
When he stepped off the train, Draco's chest felt as if steel bands were crushing his lungs. He'd just broken Harry's nose! Why did the fool have to be so perceptive and nosy? If he discovered Draco's mission, they'd both be in jeopardy! He'd only walked a few yards up the platform when he faltered.
Harry was bound and helpless. What if something happened to him on the train. He would never forgive himself. He couldn't leave him in such a predicament. Draco looked back. The conductor was still at the station master's window. Draco climbed aboard and turned towards the compartment where he'd left Harry. Just then, he saw a woman with purple hair enter the compartment. He recognized his cousin, the metamorphagus, Nympadora. Draco disillusioned himself and crept closer. He heard Harry's voice. How did she know he was there? A few seconds later, they passed him and left the train.
Draco followed them at a safe distance. He wondered if maybe—no—his cousin didn't really know him and he couldn't trust Harry now—too much had passed between them. He apparated to the castle gate and sprinted onto the grounds, slipping into the Entrance Hall just as the last carriage departed.
"Harry!" Dean hissed from behind him. "Psst! Harry!"
"What are you looking at, freak?" Harry startled from his reverie at the harsh sound of Pansy's voice.
"What?" he looked at her with exasperation.
"You think because you're the Savior of the Wizarding World you can just leer at whomever you like?" she said, her voice laced with scorn. Draco looked up.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Parkinson!" said Professor Onwachimba sternly.
"Professor, he was staring lecherously at Draco!" she argued.
"What? Pansy!" Draco interjected.
"I was not!" Harry glared at her.
"I saw you staring right at him! By Salazar! You'd better watch yourself, Draco. You know what that lot is like."
"Twenty points from Slytherin, Miss Parkinson, and see me after the lesson! I will not have these disruptions in my classroom!" Pansy opened her mouth to protest, and Professor Onwachimba fixed her with a withering glare. She shrank back, petulantly.
Draco met Harry's gaze momentarily, before both turned back to their blank parchments. Professor Onwachimba proceeded with his lecture, but few paid him any attention. Throughout the remainder of the lesson, several students covertly or openly peered over their shoulders at Harry, and Pansy glared at him, her own notes ignored.
"…and he gave me a week of detention!" Pansy complained at dinner that evening. "Me! I was only defending Draco."
"I suppose that's the reason for his absence at dinner," said Lucian. "I'd have heed Potter on the spot!"
"Well, what did Draco say?" asked Astoria.
"Not a word!" Daphne replied. "I think he was so mortified by it all."
"Yeah. He just sort of stared at Potter for a moment and then turned away."
"I find it pretty difficult to believe that Harry Potter would be attracted to Draco," said Astoria as she helped herself to pudding. "They never liked one another."
"Oh, come on, Tori. Draco's quite fit. As off-putting as it all is, you can't blame Potter for taking a gander."
"They are brewing partners in Potions," Rashne Khan pointed out.
"So what? Draco is hardly a pillow-biter!" Pansy insisted.
"How would you know?" Rashne gave her a pointed look.
"I think I'd know better than you, Khan!" she snarled.
"What is the possibility that we could have just one meal without a fuss?" Astoria interjected. "Honestly! Listening to you lot is like those dramas that Mother listens to on the wireless."
"Harry, what were you thinking? Staring at Malfoy like that in the middle of class!" Ron exclaimed.
"I tried to warn him!" Dean said.
"Oh, for the love of—I wasn't staring at him!" Harry insisted. "I was thinking! I didn't realize that I was staring off in his direction!"
"Are you interested in him?" Hermione asked.
"May we please talk about anything else?" Harry begged. Just then, Ginny arrived at the table.
"Has anyone seen this?" she asked, flattening a large announcement on the table. The others leaned in.
"A ball?" Ron groaned. Hermione gave him an annoyed look.
"For Valentine's Day," Ginny said. Harry nervously cast his eyes at Dean and Seamus, who had both become very interested in the food on their plates.
"There you are, old man!" said Lucian Boles, when Draco arrived at the table. "We thought perhaps Potter had put you off your appetite."
"Oh, please." Draco said dismissively. He prepared a simple plate. "I have more important matters to attend than Potter's pointless crush."
"So where have you been?" Blaise finally spoke up. He licked crème from his spoon.
"Need I remind you yet again, Zabini, that I have an apprenticeship to complete? I have research to complete in order to submit my treatise ahead of N.E.W.T.s."
"Such a noble and perfect excuse for hiding oneself away in anguished embarrassment," said Blaise.
"I am neither anguished nor embarrassed," Draco replied. "Why should I be? If Potter were actually interested in me, who could blame him? I mean—I am the quintessence of sophistication and high style." He shrugged haughtily. The girls at the table giggled.
"And you're not worried about being his partner in Potions?" Rashne asked.
"It isn't as if we're brewing Amortentia, Khan. Besides, I'm not stupid enough to test anything that Potter managed to brew on myself."
As Draco departed the Great Hall after dinner, Blaise intercepted him.
"Now that the others have gone, is there something you would like to share?" he asked.
"Certainly. You are an annoying, pompous, egotistical prick. Leave me alone." Draco sidestepped and continued walking. Blaise caught up to him again, shoving him into a nearby classroom.
"Who are you seeing?" he demanded.
"I'm not seeing you. Leave me alone!" Draco turned to the door. Blaise grabbed his hair, pulling him back roughly. "Ah!"
"You're such a phony, Draco. You think staging that little appearance with Astoria has me fooled?"
Draco wrenched Blaise's hand free, and shoved him away. "You think it's an act? Astoria asked me to accompany her, and I did! She's a lovely girl, and I enjoy her company! I'm not you, Blaise—leading Hester on when you've no interest in her whatsoever!" He narrowed his eyes at the other Slytherin. "You're taking it, aren't you? Revenio Potion—you're taking it! Are you out of your supply? Is that why you're suddenly so interested in me again?" Blaise backhanded Draco, and his glasses sliced across the bridge of his nose before they went flying. Draco stared at him in shock.
"Look at you! The rest of them might fall for your act—Lucius remade—waxing philosophical, yet still arrogant and aloof." He slapped Draco again, splitting his lip. "You're just as weak and pathetic as you've always been!"
"Blaise, don't!" Draco drew his wand, pointing it shakily. Blaise chuckled sardonically.
"Are you going to hex me?" he taunted. "Go ahead. I'll give you one shot. I won't even draw my wand."
"Harry!" Dean and Seamus caught up with him in the seventh floor corridor.
"Have ye talked to him?" Seamus asked. "Draco?"
"Shh!" Harry hissed. "C'mon."
Fawkes perched on the back of Harry's chair, and he stroked the bird's warm scarlet feathers as he sat with Dean and Seamus, in his quarters.
"I haven't seen him yet. Lately, he spends most of his spare time in the dungeons working on his apprenticeship projects for Slughorn. He's applied for patents on his new Skele-Gro and Pepper-Up Potions."
"Really? Wow, that's brilliant!" they exclaimed.
"Yeah, so he's working on something new for his treatise, but he won't say anything about it. I don't want to be a distraction, so I've left him alone. Sometimes, I'll go down and do my homework, just so we can be near one another. It seems to make him happy."
"Aww!" Dean and Seamus cooed, and then snickered. Harry pulled a face.
They all looked up when the door opened. Neville paused as he entered.
"Seamus, Dean." He nodded curtly, and dropped his satchel on his desk.
"Longbottom. Neville." Seamus and Dean replied coolly.
"You should be more careful who you spend your time alone with," Neville advised. "People might get the wrong idea."
"You're right," said Dean. "Seeing as McClaggen's lot is largely made up of pretentious gits with overlarge egos."
"I'm disappointed in ye, Longbottom!" Seamus stood up. "One would think tha' you of all wizards would be more tolerant. Harry was th' very first ta stand up fer ye, and this is how ye repay 'im?"
"We lived with him for six years—slept feet away—showered and dressed with little or no privacy, and he never said a word! He lied to us, Seamus."
"Just leave it, Seamus," Harry interjected. He rubbed his brow.
"Did he?" Seamus ignored Harry. "How do ye even know wha' Harry was thinkin'? Some might suggest, his thoughts were otherwise occupied with keeping Voldemort from killing him. Does it really matter who he's shaggin'?"
"Oh, come off it, Finnegan! You didn't even believe that You-Know-Who was back!"
"Yeah, I was mistaken! Harry forgave me, because we're all entitled to make mistakes. Even you—so feel free to take the opportunity t'apologize!"
"Ah!" Harry winced, squeezing his eyes shut as his scar prickled. They all turned to him.
"Harry?" Dean was on his feet.
"I have to go find—I have to go!" he got to his feet and left the room.
Draco pointed his wand at Blaise, a curse on his lips, when Harry's image flashed in his mind's eye.
"Where are you? Please be okay." He faltered, and Blaise saw his opening.
"Expelliarmus!" Draco's wand flew into his hand. "Crucio!"
Draco staggered backwards as if punched, and fell against a nearby desk. He gritted his teeth against the pain of the curse he'd endured time and again. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"You are nothing, Malfoy! You never will be! You can convince yourself that it doesn't matter—that I don't matter! I know what you did! I'll tell everyone that you, too, are a murderer!"
"I am not!" Draco weakly protested. Suddenly, he felt a surge of magic, and there was an unmistakable ping as the delicate glass of the room's windows splintered and cracked. Zabini was suddenly knocked off his feet. He dropped Draco's wand as he stared at him in astonishment, scrambling away. "The next..time…you try to curse…me," he panted, dragging himself up on all fours. "You'd…better be…prepared to…kill." Draco summoned his wand, and Blaise fled the room.
Emeka Onwachimba suddenly tore his attention away from the essays that he was grading as a lantern hung beside his door suddenly flared with a red flame. Minerva McGonagall did the same, as did Filius Flitwick. They raced from their respective offices, wands pointed.
Harry ran through the corridors, peering into classroom after classroom, the pain in his head subsiding bit by bit. He thought that he must be drawing nearer to Draco, until he finally pushed open the door of a disused classroom on the ground floor. He found Draco, trembling on his knees, a cut on his nose, another on his lip, and a purplish bruise forming near his left eye.
"Oh, my God!" Harry breathed. He rushed to Draco, kneeling beside him. "What happened?"
"N-nothing," Draco mumbled. "I-I'll be fine. E-epis—" Harry gently pushed Draco's wand down.
"No, let me. Episkey!" Draco winced as the cuts on his face were healed. "Who did this? Is this about what happened in class?" Harry demanded.
"No. I don't want to talk about it!" Draco struggled to his feet. Harry held on to him.
"Draco—"
"Harry, please!" Draco's expression was plaintive, but firm. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. "I promise, it wasn't anything to do with you. There are demons of my past, I've yet to reconcile." Harry looked at him skeptically.
"Just…you don't have to go through this alone, Draco. I'm here for you. I'll always protect you. I…I love you."
"Harry, I—you—you what?"
"I love you." Harry looked into Draco's eyes. Draco shook his head to assure himself that he wasn't imagining things.
"Really?" he whispered, uncertainly. Harry nodded vigorously.
"Really." He pulled Draco in for a tender, yet passionate kiss. There was a series of resonant cracks as the splintered windows repaired themselves. Harry gently stroked Draco's back until his quivering subsided. They continued to cling to one another, simply sharing kisses and tender caresses, when suddenly the door was flung open and they were startled to find themselves faced by three astounded mages.
"Merlin's wand!" Minerva McGonagall exclaimed.