Much thanks for the feedback and the love. Much appreciated. Special thanks to my genius beta, Anna. You're awesome. And also to LittleNightDragon and dreamydrarry for the ideas they suggested.


Chapter 18: Drawing and Defining Lines

Harry had learned a few things in his years at the Malfoy Manor: the ins and outs of pureblood society, politics and-more importantly persuasion.

He used every ounce of his hard-earned Slytherin wiles in an attempt to sway his guardians to regarding the upcoming Hogsmeade trip. He laid out his arguments logically. First and foremost, the sighting occurred exactly twenty miles west of Hogwarts while Hogsmeade was several miles east of the school-a rather significant distance from trouble, Harry thought. Second, the Ministry had strengthened its security patrols and instated a mandatory curfew. Third, he wouldn't be alone: he would be with his friends.

Sadly, however, a student may never be as skilled as his master-much less three Slytherin masters. Narcissa was usually easiest to persuade but she put her foot down this time, convinced it was too dangerous. Uncle stood behind her, unmoved. Harry tried going to Severus in hopes that he could convince him. That didn't go as well as he hoped.

"If you try to change my mind about Hogsmeade," the man said as Harry walked into his office. "You will not only be grounded but also be tasked with cleaning every cauldron in storage." He didn't even look up from his papers as he silenced Harry's immediate protest. "And will do so with a toothbrush if another word of complaint comes out of your mouth."

Frustration swelled inside Harry like a balloon. He clenched his fists to keep his anger from bursting, took in a deep breath, and left his uncle's office. A thousand curses threatened to rattle off his tongue and he bit down hard, nearly drawing blood. This wasn't fair.

Sirius surfaced only once in a small, remote village; it seemed impossible that he would strike the same place twice. Even if he were to return, there was no way to know that Sirius would-that he might actually-well, the fact he couldn't finish own train of thought spoke volumes, as much as he hated to admit it.

Harry walked his friends to the gates where students were gathered around, handing Professor McGonagall their permission slips and talking excitedly with their friends. He saw Ron and Hermione with the other Gryffindors and sent them a small smile.

"It's a shame you can't come with us, darling," Pansy said. "It won't be the same."

"It's okay," he said, attempting to hide his disappointment with a smile he hoped he was convincing. "Maybe next time."

"Not to worry," Theo said. "I'll be sure to stop by the bookshop for you."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

Theo glared at her. "You may find it shocking to believe, Parkinson, but some people actually enjoy reading." She rolled her eyes again and his glare intensified. "Then again you have to be able to read to actually enjoy it."

Pansy lunged forward. Goyle grabbed her wrist and held her back before she had the chance to claw Theo's face with her sharp nails. She sneered at him then turned back to a smirking Theo. "One of these days, Nott, I'm going to rip that tongue of yours and use it to slap you."

"Before that happens, Parkinson, you'll be buried six feet under and I'll raise a toast in honor of the long-awaited silen-"

Blaise cut in, "If you two need a few minutes to relieve some tension by the corner-"

"Shut it, Zabini!" the pair sneered in response.

After Goyle released her, Pansy flounced away, knocking purposefully and gleefully into Theo, who rubbing his shoulder and glowering at Blaise, followed behind her. A mere ten steps later, they exploded into another argument.

Harry shook his head and glanced over at Crabbe and Goyle. "Do me a favor? Try to keep them from killing each other."

"We'll try," Crabbe said.

"Though it would be a lot easier getting a group of fairies to dance for us." Goyle finished.

He and Crabbe went to queue in front of McGonagall.

Blaise stayed behind and slung his arm around Harry, sighing heavily. "Hogsmeade just won't be the same without you, Potter."

Harry snorted, lightly pushing his friend away. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of victims to keep you company, Blaise."

Blaise smirked. "True but I have one specific victim in mind."

Draco stepped in front of Harry and pointed at the group. "I think McGonagall is calling you, Zabini."

Blaise raised an eyebrow at Draco's dark scowl, his smirk still in place. He nodded at Harry before walking away to join the queue, Draco glaring dangers at his back.

Harry stepped in front of Draco, blocking his view. "Hey, you okay?"

Draco's glare softened a bit as he looked down at him, though his face was still pinched in irritation. "Peachy," he said in the same flat tone he had during the welcoming feast.

"Look, you know Blaise. He's only joking."

Draco hummed in an unpleasant manner that reminded Harry of Severus whenever he was displeased.

"Students, gather around!" McGonagall cried. "We're leaving."

"You better go." Harry titled his head, indicating the group.

Draco nodded but didn't move. His eyes were no longer hard but clouded with an emotion that was just as heavy as anger, one that made Harry feel increasingly vulnerable as the seconds ticked away.

Draco's scrutiny caused a strange feeling to stir in Harry's chest, pricking like a needle before stretching down to the pit of his stomach. He unknowingly took a step back from the feeling as heat rushed to his cheeks but before he could take another, Draco clasped his wrist and brought him forward.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he felt Draco press a gentle kiss on his forehead, causing warmth to surge and fill his chest. He finally exhaled, releasing a short, almost-pained gasp when Draco pulled his mouth away from his skin.

A glint danced across those eyes, brightening gray to silver, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

"I'll see you soon."

Harry's cheeks were still burning as he nodded weakly, his throat dry and stomach tight as he turned to begin his trek back to the castle.

"Harry! Hey Harry!"

He blinked; searching for the source of the call-Ginny was heading toward him.

"I just had a revelation," she said.

Some of the dizziness faded as he felt a smile tugging at his lips. "Oh?"

Ginny shrugged with one shoulder, her smile growing. "You're here alone and miserable. I have a load of homework that I don't want to do. And the quidditch field just happens to be free."

Easily connecting the dots, Harry asked "Up for a game?"

Ginny arched a brow, turned on her heel, and raced to the field. Giggles fell from her lips as she heard Harry behind her, quickly catching up.

Neither of them noticed the blonde with eyes like shards of ice, glaring at the redhead as he watched them go.

"How sweet."

A growl rumbling in his throat, Draco tore his eyes away from Harry and the she-weasel and turned towards Blaise, who had come to stand behind him.

"They certainly do make a nice pair," Blaise commented. Draco growled louder. The sound caught Blaise's attention. "So sorry, Draco. Is something bothering you?"

There were times when Draco wondered why he kept certain people in his circle. No member had been thought about and questioned more than Blaise who clearly wanted his membership revoked."Keep talking, Zabini, and the next thing that will come out of your mouth will be your teeth."

Amusement shone in the boy's mischievous eyes. Biting down another growl and crossing his arms, clenching his hands into fists, Draco joined the rest of the group. With every step he took, he fought against the urge to turn around and knock that annoying, almost-knowing look off Blaise's face-to race into the courtyard, grab the she-weasel by her hair, and toss her a good fifty feet- to take Harry and...

A low, frustrated snarl hissed through his teeth as the blond was unable to finish the thought.


Despite the day's initial disappointment, Harry did manage to have fun.

It was interesting playing with Ginny. It wasn't like playing with Draco, whose every move he could anticipate, or the rest of his Slytherin friends, whose moves were sleek and purposeful. Ginny was small but she certainly was fearless, both off and on the pitch. She was a natural on the broom, flying at full speed at every opportunity, prepared to unseat any opponent.

Several hours later, they finally lowered themselves onto the ground, shaking with laughter. Harry's clothes were damp with sweat.

Ginny grinned as she looked over at him. "Is there anything quidditch can't solve?"

Harry thought about it. "Politics?"

"Give it ten years."

Harry laughed again and Ginny joined in. "Thanks, Gin."

"Actually," she said quietly, grin fading from her face. "I should be thanking you."

Harry's brows furrowed at the sudden somber quality of Ginny's voice. "I never got the chance to thank you for what you did. Last year I mean."

Last year -when the Heir of Slytherin was wreaking havoc on the school, attacking several Muggleborn students. Voldemort, of course, was to blame, using Ginny as a pawn in his plan to wreck havoc. To this day, Harry had no idea how Tom Riddle's old journal found its way into Ginny's hands. Ginny was just as confused by the ordeal, claiming to know only two things: she discovered the book shortly after she came to Hogwarts, and once she started writing, it was hard to put down the quill.

"Ginny, none of that was your fault." Harry insisted.

"But-"

"It wasn't." Harry repeated, his voice form as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

Ginny's eyes focused on his hand, a shade of light pink spreading across her cheeks. Harry was about to pull his hand back, then stilled as Ginny began to grin, looking beyond him and tilting her head back. "Looks like I'm not the only one in awe of your quidditch skills."

Harry turned over and looked up to find Remus waving from the high balcony with a small smile.

At that moment, Harry realized he hadn't yet paid Remus a proper visit. He turned back to Ginny. "See you later?"

Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she nodded, "At dinner."

"Sure." He collected his broom, waved to her, and headed inside the castle.

He wasn't surprised to find Remus's office in the Gryffindor wing, the professor being a former Gryffindor, but he was taken back at the size of his quarters. At just under half the size of Severus's living space, Remus had a bathroom and a sitting area with a fireplace to ward off the chill. The rooms were overflowing with books, stuffed in narrow shelves and piled in towering stacks.

Tip-toeing cautiously through the stacks, Harry took a seat on the well-worn couch, its gray fabric threadbare and patched. He accepted the cup of tea Remus handed to him, smiling in thanks. "So why the change of scenery?"

Remus had been living in Moscow for the last several years, living in a farmhouse just outside the city and teaching at a small private school nearby. It had been the longest he'd ever stayed in one place and he seemed to enjoy it.

Remus smiled, taking a small sip of his tea. "Moscow was pleasant, but I figured a change couldn't hurt. Also when word came in about a job-opening at Hogwarts and opportunity to be close to my pup came along, I knew I couldn't let it go to waste. Which reminds me," He picked up a cookie from the tray and, with a murmured spell, changed it into a cupcake complete with a lit candle. "Happy belated birthday, Harry."

Harry blew out the candle, plucked it out of the treat, and sighed happily as he took a big bite of the cake, tasting its moist texture and the creaminess of the frosting.

"You certainly have your father's appetite."

He looked up at Remus.

"And from what Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore told me, you seem to have his talent of getting into trouble."

Harry's lips sloped downward in a grimace. Remus' eyes lit with amusement.

"Er…"

Remus left out a small chuckle. "Nothing to be ashamed of, pup. If I had a gallon for each time James got us into trouble, I'd…well I'm sure I would have gained quite a fortune."

Harry gave a sugar-laced smile.

"And like him, you have a group of loyal friends there to help. Very diverse group you have. Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley. Mr. Longbottom, Thomas, and Finnegan. And the friends you made from your house." Remus was just as stunned as everyone else by Harry's sorting. Unlike most, it only took a few seconds for him to digest the news before nodding and saying Slytherin gained itself a valuable member. "Mr. Zabini, Ms. Parkison, Mr. Nott. And of course, Mr. Malfoy."

The statement, simple observation as it was, should not have thrown him. It was common knowledge-the sky was blue, what went up came back down, and Harry and Draco were friends. Harry was thrown, however: Remus's words caused an unsettling coil in his stomach, tightening like a fist.

"It seems you two have grown closer."

There was a certain shift in Remus's tone, ringing at the last few words. Harry would have questioned it if his face wasn't burning.

"We're, well, um, we're…" Harry didn't know where to begin. It was a question that was so simple and yet, so unanswerable at the same time.

How could Harry explain to Remus that he and Draco were simply-well, them? How easy it was to determine the blonde's next move? How Draco knew practically every inch of Harry's mind? That Draco was his other half? How they were so entwined with each other, it was hard to tell which parts belonged to whom?

Harry recalled their mantra, "I'm yours and you're mine." How could he ever explain it to an outsider without it coming off as strange?

"Like brothers?" Remus guessed.

At the word, Harry's stomach lurched. The rest of his body shuddered, his skin pricking and itching in irritation. In some ways, the word "brothers" made sense, given the circumstances and their close bond. But every time Harry heard it, the idea of being "brothers" with Draco brought a wave of discomfort crashing over him.

"No," Harry choked, pushing his way through the emotions clogging his throat. "Definitely not like brothers."

There was a moment of silence before Remus asked in a gentle manner, "More than?"

Harry's startled, widened eyes glanced up at the man as a tightness gripped his chest, hot as fire, sharp like a knife.

He could feel his mouth opening, closing, opening again while memories flashed through his mind. He thought of their childhood saying, the meaning that had deepened with time, coloring the once-innocent words. He remembered Aunt Cissa building two master rooms for them and Draco pointing out that they've always shared a room. Harry thought back to how they'd always shared a bed, even wrapped in blankets and sheets and each other. He thought of the needles that stabbed him whenever Draco looked at him in a certain way, of how his breathing stilled whenever Draco touched him. His mind came to a stop then-recalling how everything came to an abrupt halt whenever those stroking fingers were replaced with lips.

Harry's face flamed. His hands were trembling, holding tightly onto the cup as he remembered Draco's mouth brushing against his forehead just this morning by the gates, the soft press of lips to the pulse point of his neck after Draco confronted him about sneaking off to Godric Hollow. The kiss-a real kiss-over the summer, something brushed off with humor and never brought up again out of either discomfort or fear. The real kiss, in which the warmth they typically felt from the familiar contact became so intense it nearly incinerated them.

Dear Merlin, now his head was spinning. Harry took several gulps of his tea, wishing it was something cooler to ease the heat of his flushed face. He glanced around the room, hoping to find something-anything-to latch onto and change the subject.

He found it in the old Daily Prophet paper announcing Sirius' appearance in Dufftown.

Severus already told Harry everything that happened Halloween night, along with his opinion on Sirius' crimes. While he didn't believe his uncle was lying or withholding information, Harry did remember the intense dislike the man felt for Sirius. Remus was different-with the expectation of his father, no one knew Sirius like he did.

Harry remembered how fiercely Remus protested the allegations against Sirius. He wondered if Remus knew something his uncle didn't, if there was a deeper meaning behind those fierce protestations, and steeled his resolve. "Moony?"

It had to be the tone of his voice that alarmed the man, changing his gentle smile into a thoughtful frown. "What is it, pup?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Remus's frown deepened. "Is it about what happened in class?"

Another discussion that would have to be for another day. "Not exactly. It's about Si-"

He was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Come in." Remus murmured.

Severus came through the door, carrying a faintly smoking goblet, and stopped short at the sight of Harry. He narrowed his eyes.

"As pleased as I am to see you're not moping about, the same cannot be said about the company you choose to keep." He glared directly at Remus, who only smiled.

The smoke billowing from the rim carried a light, flowery scent. Harry wasn't sure how he knew the fragrance, but felt a wave of déjà vu-there was something familiar about it.

"Dumbledore has informed me of your-" Severus paused, seemingly searching for a word. "ailment. Hopefully this batch will be able to sustain you for the time-being."

Ailment? Harry turned back to Remus, noticing the man's pale complexion and the deep-purple bags underneath his tired eyes. "You're sick? It is the flu again?"

Remus smiled gently at him. "The wonders of a weak immune system. Do not worry, pup. I'll be fine."

"Do you want me to bring you tea later? Soup?"

"Nothing to worry about. The potion will help."

Harry wasn't entirely convinced.

"Why don't you head back to the common room? Get some homework done. I know for a fact you have a paper for DADA that needs to be written."

Harry recognized a dismissal when he heard one. He studied the man's weak appearance and said, "I guess I'll see you later then."

"Soon." Remus nodded.

Harry finished his tea and rose from his seat. He stepped around Severus, who lingered by the door, offering a small nod and getting another whiff of the strange scent as he left the room.


As soon as the sound of footsteps faded away, Severus spelled the door shut, placing a silencing charm over the room. He slowly turned his body to Lupin, eyes slit in suspicion, the left side of his mouth sharp with a taunting edge.

"The flu?" he said. "Is that what they're calling it now?"

Lupin refused to rise to the bait. He kept a serene expression as he took another sip of his tea.

"You know?" Severus continued, slowly walking towards him. "I always wondered how you managed to keep it from him. You kept it hidden the summer you had him down in Moscow-for three whole months. But it seems Harry answered my question. 'The flu.' If only your real condition were as easy to cure."

Lupin's smile remained, but a steel sheet coated his eyes.

Severus' eyes focused on the old Daily Prophet paper on the coffee table, half-hidden under a plate of cookies and scones. His expression became feral. "And I see you've been keeping up with the news."

"Is there a particular reason for your visit?" Tension crept into his voice, turning the question into a demand.

"Why, to bring you your potion, of course." Severus said with a darkly amused smirk.

"If that was the case, you would have already been gone. You may not like me, Severus, but we are no longer children. Why not put childish pettiness behind us and move on?"

Severus scoffed. To think, the fool actually believed it was that simple. "So hard to do so, Lupin, when a threat is near. The Headmaster seems to think otherwise but I am not that trusting."

"Severus, it was an accident. One which happened a long time ago-"

"Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?"

Lupin's face darkened. "Why don't you say what you have to say, Severus? It will save us both time."

"Very well," he said. "I don't trust you, Lupin. You claim good intentions and self-control, but we both know that's a lie."

The man's eyes darkened; trembling rocked his body and Severus doubted it had to do with the cold.

"And it would rather unconscionable, not to mention downright dangerous, for an unhinged man to be around students. One in particular."

A crack appeared in the porcelain of Lupin's teacup, spider-webbing outward with every second. "You honestly believe I would put a student in danger. My pup-"

"The same one who, under false pretenses, believes that your poor health is due to a minor illness," Severus shook his head. "If he were to know the truth…"

Lupin glared at him for the longest time. "I can see now why you and Lucius get along so well."

Unfazed by the warning in the man's eyes, Severus went on. "Your genes aren't the only strike against yourself. There's also the matter of your past entanglements."

"My past entanglements?" Lupin echoed, incredulous. "Explain."

"You and Black. He was spotted in Dufftown days ago. The dementors are an intimidating, yes, but Black would be the type of fool to try to test them. Then again maybe he won't have to. He might find a way to walk right in-you two were rather close. More than close in fact-"

The cracked teacup exploded with a piercing shatter, breaking off into pieces coated with blood. Lupin's eyes glowed bright yellow and Severus spotted a sharp canine peeking from his mouth. The man closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths in an effort to calm himself, reaching for a napkin to clean his wounded hand. With a forced politeness, Lupin spoke though his teeth.

"I find it interesting you of all people would make such an accusation, Severus, considering the same can be said about you."

Severus felt a sudden flame, licking white hot down his forearm. He forcefully flexed his fingers, setting the goblet down on the table and giving Lupin a dry smile. "Enjoy your potion. I do hope you manage to keep it down this time."

With that said, Severus left.


That night, Harry found himself in a familiar position: nestled in a sea of blankets, his limbs tangled with Draco's. His mind was lost in the book Theo had brought back for him, as promised, (no thanks to Pansy, Harry was sure) and his belly was full of Honeyduke's sweets from the Gryffindors. His concentration on the book wavered as Draco curled himself against his side and carded his fingers through Harry's hair, telling him everything that happened in the village.

"And then after the owner managed to detach Crabbe's tongue from the pole, we went to Three Broomsticks. It wasn't so bad. Would have been better if Blaise didn't flirt with practically everything with legs."

Harry chuckled, turning a page in his book. "Looks like Blaise managed to have fun after all. And here I was, thinking I broke his heart."

"Not funny." Draco snapped.

Rolling his eyes, Harry said "You know Blaise. He's a flirt."

Draco scoffed under his breath and laid his head onto Harry's shoulder, nuzzling close to him moving so slowly that Harry became aware of their body heat, causing him to lower his book.

Remus' comment from the afternoon jarred back to his head: "You two seem to have gotten closer," he said.

"Draco?" The blonde gave no reply. He called his name again. Still nothing. He moved away. Draco finally looked up at him, face full of confusion.

"What is it?"

"Would you…" He didn't even know how to phase the question. "Say we're like normal best friends?"

Draco blinked, then a second time. "What?"

"It's just…" Harry exhaled slowly, struggling to fight the right words. "We're close. Really close. So much that people think we're like brothers-"

"We are not brothers!" Draco declared, shuddering like Harry had earlier. "Not even close."

"But we're closer than normal best friends."

"How so?"

Thoughts crowded Harry's mind, vying for attention: they'd almost never slept in separate beds in the eight years they've been friends, they rarely went anywhere without the other, their childhood mantra that became so heavy with the weight of unspoken expectation. But the answer that came out of Harry's mouth shocked Draco as much as it did him. "Like the fact we've kissed."

More than once. The words weren't said but their presence was known, hanging in the air, growing more imposing as the seconds passed.

Draco's eyes, wide as saucers, focused on Harry, while Harry couldn't look up from his duvet-covered lap. Neither could control their blush.

"That…we…" Draco's hand curled around the blanket, clenching the fabric between his fingers before releasing and smoothing the creases out. "We were kids. Those don't count."

"And the one that happened at the beach?"

"That-experimentation." Draco supplied quickly.

Harry peered up at him.

"Hormones." Draco frowned. "I mean, they mess with you."

"Hormones?" Harry repeated.

"Yes."

Harry mulled over it. The transition from childhood to young adulthood had been rough on both of them; the strange shift that came between them did start with that initial rush of hormones.

"I guess," Harry said. "it's one of those things we…muddle through and laugh over a few years from now."

"Exactly," Draco said. "It's just a phase. Just something get out of our system. We'll get over it."

"Right."

"Right."

As if to prove their point, they slept in their own beds. Harry did more reading to relax his mind, adjusted the pillows and blankets, tossed and turned but he lie awake, just as restless as was half an hour ago.

He glanced over at Draco. The blonde was buried in his blankets, motionless and quiet, but Harry knew he was awake. He tried going to sleep one last time, and after a moment of internal arguing and turning finally gave up. He then slid out of his bed and climbed onto Draco's. He wrapped his arms around Draco and pressed his body close to him, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Better?" Draco teased, using the same words Harry said when he snuck into his bed their first night at Hogwarts.

"Much."

Harry could feel his smirk curling. Draco rolled over and nestled his head against Harry's chest.

Tightening his hold, Harry said with a shrug "Normal's overrated anyway."

"Speak for yourself, Potter."

Harry looked down. Draco smiled innocently at the dark look he gave him. "Arse."

"Dolt."

"Jerk."

"Halfwit."

"Prat."

"Git."

The two stared locked eyes, forest green and with stony gray, until barely-smothered laughter burst forth from their mouths.

"You're still a prat." Harry whispered.

"And you're still a git." Draco sent him one last smirk and closed his eyes, falling asleep within minutes.

Harry stared at him, brushing loose strands of cornsilk hair away from his face, amazed by how soft it was. He'd never told Draco this but he preferred his hair natural instead of slick and hardened with gel. Warmth fluttered in his chest as he studied Draco's face, his features relaxed and content, his skin luminous in the moonlight.

They were best friends. It was a simple statement of the fact: the sky was blue, what went up came down, he was Draco's and Draco was his. Always. This new...strangeness, these nerves, were probably just another part of growing up, another stage in their lives-a simple phase, as Draco called it. One he was sure they'd get over.