If only you knew…
"Draco," Harry tried to speak but it caught in his throat.
"What?" his eyes grew worried.
"Swear on all that is magical you'll hear me out," Harry said and Draco, with a frown nodded and seated himself.
"I don't understand what is so horrid, Harry."
"You will, pretty quick."
Draco looked at him strangely.
"This summer, I was sitting with Ron and Hermione in Diagon. Your mum came up and…and offered to train me to be your perfect boyfriend. Draco, she offered to help me get Sirius back. I accepted her offer and over the summer I learned so much about you it stopped being about Sirius and I fell for you."
Draco's eyes went hollow, they stared at Harry blankly.
"She let me live in your wing, in Dublin, and-and your art and your knowledge and these little things about you, your smile and your freckle and your shy mannerisms, they made your more than just Draco Malfoy," he said and sat next to the blonde, "They made you someone I really like and my godfather doesn't motivate me anymore, that hasn't for a long time, not since August."
Draco stayed silent and expressionless.
"Please-"
"Why did she ask you?"
Harry started, unsure of how to answer.
"If you're going to be honest, Harry, be entirely honest. Tell me."
"The other mothers…Blaise, Pansy and Theo's mums told her she didn't know you well enough to make you a perfect boyfriend."
"She doesn't," Draco said, "You're hardly perfect."
Harry winced.
"But why did you accept?"
"I miss him, Drake, Sirius was the first father figure I ever had and he died and I blamed myself. The chance of getting him back, it was right there and if anyone knows how, Narcissa does. Over the time we've been together, these past few months, I've found wonderful new things to keep me sane and happy. I won't lie, I won't tell her not to bring him back…but if she doesn't…I don't think I'll die or anything."
"You hated me."
"I didn't like you, true, but you didn't like me either. So we both had to come 'round."
Draco nodded and drew a breath, "I don't like it, not at all. I hardly think a dare is a good reason to start a relationship, especially with me. However, you were honest about it when I asked and that is, I think, a very important thing. You're not perfect but you're a hell of a lot better than anything else I've dated."
Harry turned red, "Yeah?"
"Yes," Draco corrected him, "And yes, you are."
"Thank you."
Draco sighed and looked at the wall across the hallway from them, "I have a freckle?"
"Yes," Harry smiled, relieved, "Right here," he leaned over and kissed the spot just behind Draco's ear.
The boy let out a giggle and squirmed away.
"What?"
"I'm ticklish there," he admitted and smiled a little, "Don't think we're done with this."
"I was honest," Harry reminded him, concern again dampening the mood, "Shouldn't you be?"
"What?" Draco knew instantly what he was on about but had no idea Harry knew.
"The drugs, Drake."
He was quiet and let his eyes trace lines in the stone so they would not meet the green, "How did you know?"
"I was in the room when you got home from Fatian this summer."
"I see."
"Are you over it?"
Draco inhaled again, "I don't know."
"Really?"
"I cannot honestly say that I'm completely over the drugs. The withdrawls were…painful and I've had support and no one has done anything wrong but, there's this temptation and this remnant dependency. It is worse than just about anything but better than some things. Sometimes I feel like I have failed my legacy but then I remember that I'm getting better and maybe I've proved that Malfoy's are not subject to the darkness. I worry about myself, in the early morning when I'm tempted, and I'm proud when I wake up without having done anything."
"So…?"
"I haven't taken any since I got back but it's there and I don't know if it will never happen again."
Harry frowned, "You'll be okay, I know it. You accepted me and I will accept you and I'll do everything I can to help you."
Draco looked at him, "I don't think it will be that easy."
:Library, November 3rd:
"Hello Theo," Hermione set her books down next to him.
"Evening Hermione," he sat up from his writings and looked at her.
She slid into the seat next to him and glanced at the parchment on the table. It was massive to say the least. He was near the bottom and it was unrolled all the way across the table and hanging over the far edge.
"What's that?"
"It is my Theorems and Thesis for the Magical Historical Society."
"Really?"
"It's going to be part of their Views on Modern History Essay Collection."
"You're getting published?"
"That is what they tell me."
"Theo, why didn't you say anything? That's great."
He nodded, checked that the ink was dry and began to roll up the parchment. "How was your day?" he asked.
"Fine, Ron and Blaise have been inseparable since Italy and Draco and Harry are working through that drug problem. I'm so glad too, Draco needs support and Harry is so dedicated to him and that will bring them so much closer together."
"I'm certain it will."
"I can't imagine trying to overcome such an addiction without the love and support of my friends and family."
Theo looked at her from beneath a few strands of gold hair.
"Can you?" she asked.
"It can be done."
"Why do you say that?"
"Everything can be done with determination and self motivation."
"I think that recovery would be eased and even sped up by the support and love lent by family and friends. In fact, it could even help prevent a relapse, knowing all those people care about you. Don't you think people should rely on those they care about for help?"
"I hardly think that someone with a true addiction will be swayed by a hug from his mother. You've never been addicted; you don't understand the need, the overwhelming dependency on that one thing, that high. Mum isn't going to convince a real addict that they should quit because nothing else matters to them, not even their friends."
"One would have to be severely addicted to go to such extremes."
"Some people."
"Some people," she repeated, angry and shocked.
"You were not there," he said, "At midnight when I lay awake, starving, exhausted and shaking because of the pain I was in. You did not know what I was going through, how I slept as if I were in a coma but woke up feeling as if I had not slept at all. You cannot tell me I would have recovered more easily with my friends. I had my friends support but my pain was no less than a friendless addict on the street going through this only because he is too broke to buy. Hermione," he sighed, "There is so much you know, but still so much you have no right pretending to know about. Reading a book does not give you all the knowledge you need to tell me how I should be and what I should have done. 'Should's are moot now, I am better and that is the answer to your strangely poignant questions."
She did not feel angry, insulted or hurt at his words for he did not say them angrily or with the intention to hurt. Hermione felt both ashamed (for having assumed she knew so much) and newly educated.
"You are better," she repeated, "I'm glad."
He nodded and let a small smile pass over his thin lips. "Drugs do not follow logic, pattern or theories and there in lies their true nature."
"Where did you hear that?"
"The person who first convinced me to try, he thought I was too stuck in intellectual thought and so decided drugs would be my irregularity. I agreed. He was wrong, though, that drugs do not have their patterns or logic. It is there, I found it and that helped make me see how pointless they truly are."
He's confusingly brilliant she told herself and smiled. His hand found hers.
"Come on, if you like, I know a more secluded place to study."
:Severus Snape's Quarters:
"Blaise and Ron?" Severus asked, black eyebrows levitating as his mind tried to process the thought.
The white haired woman nodded and sipped her glass of pumpkin juice, "Since late October."
Snape smiled and poured himself a glass of brandy to take the edge off another long day of teaching. He was not a heavy or regular drinker by any means but the day was long and the students dull and his mark ached and made it hard to correct assignments and hex students in the hallway. Narcissa had not taught that day but spent it in London with a council of elders connected to the Keeper lineage. He knew little of it and she kept the details to herself. That was not bothersome either, twenty years with the woman and they trusted each other enough to let secrets lie. She never inquired about the Death Eater meetings and he never asked about her Keeper business, or her ancient magic or studies.
Since she had taken up residence in his rooms the number of books had greatly increased. When the school year started the rooms were covered in books and tomes and reference guides, manuscripts, journals and text books. The leather-bound and cloth bound things were under the bed, crammed into shelves, on top of the shelves and tables and in trunks, on trunks, in piles and filling up at least nine heavy cauldrons that rested precariously on top of books on top of chests. They were originally focused on the Dark Arts, defense and potionry but now there were books on herbal magic, the ancient magic, core magic, hereditary magic, pureblood lineage and a large assortment of other things pertaining to her situation.
"That is strange to me," he admitted and sat down, "Are you okay with it?"
She smiled, "When I went to the mound to pick up Harry this summer I made an observation of the young man and thought him a fine physical match to our Italian. I am not surprised that the proximity has brought them together."
"How is it, exactly, that you spotted such a relationship from four months away?"
"Talent," she answered briefly and smiled at him in the firelight. "Long day?"
"Quite," he admitted and nursed his brandy.
"Tell me."
"Many things," he said vaguely, "But nothing of interest except that I saw them holding hands as they left class."
"Shocker?"
"Needless to say," he indicated to the drink, "I nearly drew my wand and followed them but let it be. I will not get involved with student's relationships ever again, not after Marcus decided he could come to me with two hours of dramatic ego-vomit every night. 'This girls wants me but I dunno, that one's really easy' and on and on and on."
Narcissa laughed, "Sounds interesting."
"Oh, very," Snape grimaced and took another sip. "I hate teenagers, really I do."
"Our son will be one someday," she reminded him.
"No, he shall skip from twelve to twenty and not live a day in between."
"Ah," she crossed to him and wrapped her arms around him, "Do you remember when we were teenagers? All our fun?"
"All our strife," he added, "Between exams, puberty, the Marauders, my father and Lucius, my teenagers years were not full of the drunken fun and laughter that yours were."
"If not for our teenage years," she leaned her lips close to his ear, "We would not have known each other."
"One good thing..."
"You would not have inherited the family fortune."
"Two good things," he relented that as well.
"I would not look half this good."
"Fine, they were not so bad," he admitted and she caught him in a kiss.
"I knew I could convince you."
"You always do."
:Slytherin Common Room, 2.45 AM on 5 November:
"I cannot," he insisted, staring at the loose floor tile.
"Please, you have to; it'll finalize everything we've been talking about for the past week."
"Can we talk about it?"
"We've done nothing but talk about it for seven days and nights, Drake, come on, please."
"Harry, it is going too fast, I-I cannot make these changes as quickly as you want me to. I am not ready."
"When will you be ready then?"
"I have no idea," the blonde sat down to make his point. "You are not a mediwizard Harry; you cannot expect me to immediately adjust to this."
"Whuh?" Harry stopped, took a breath and sat down next to him, "Okay, I won't push."
"Thank-you," Draco smiled and leaned himself into the strong shoulder next to him. "The Storm Ball is coming fast."
"It is," Harry nodded and rested his cheek on the top of Draco's head, "Would you allow me to escort you?"
"It would please me greatly," he turned his head, smiled cutely and pressed a kiss to Harry's jawbone, "We should clarify that I am a boy and do not need an 'escort.' I need a 'date' or a 'bitch,' not an 'escort.'"
"I am perfectly aware that you're a boy, trust me, I'm aware of it." Harry winked suggestively and smiled, "I'll rephrase myself then…Draco, would you please let me be your bitch at the upcoming Storm Ball?"
"I will allow you to be such," he nodded was immediately pulled into the lion's lap. He let out a squeak and smacked the broad chest playfully, "Do not do that, it surprised me."
"No harm intended," Harry assured him and touched their lips together, "None at all," his breath entered the blonde and lingered in him.
"Kiss me again," and he did.
Two things on my LIST OF AMAZING:
1- More than 1000 reviews. My heart palpitates in love for you all. I never expected any story of mine to recieve such an incredible reader response and I have nothing to say but thank-you and I owe, so much to you all.
2- The story is being translated into French. Oh Merlin...I can promise when I got her review saying she wanted to translate the story I fell out of my chair and shrieked...it was not the opertune time for such things BUT it was still amazing. Her penname is carbotine and she's French and I like her quite a bit. She'll post things and have the link to the original version and give credit and be good about it. I'm dying of excitment.
That is it for the LIST OF AMAZING.
Thank-you all again.
LOVE
FireStorm00X
ps- my exams are done, graduation is tomorrow at 6 (I'm not graduating but I have friends who are) so now my days are this and cooking for my men friends who play music and strut. That is good news for you kids, and for them. LOVE