Transcending the Bullshit, chapter 12
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't own them. I don't own them. (here, I try to hypnotise you into believing the truth by repeating the same thing over and over...) I don't own them. I don't own them. I don't own them.
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
A thank-you for all the reviews; I feed them to my muse who helps me write these chapters, however long they may be in coming (hint: It's hard to write with a hungry muse).
***
Harry had welcomed his friends back happily, the only downside being Ron's absence.
In thier dorm, Harry filled them in on some of the vacation-- about the attacks. They started going on about all the presents they'd gotten, and Harry felt a guilty lurch in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't bothered to check for presents-- come to think about it, he thought Hermione had just stacked them in his trunk for him. He blushed.
"Eh, what's going on, Harry? Is there someone you fancy?" asked Seamus.
"Um." said Harry. At this point he realised that he'd made a tactical error. Now, regardless of what he said, they'd assume it meant 'yes'. He reflected a moment, then decided that they'd assume 'yes' anyways. He smiled, ran over and hugged Seamus. "Of course my love, it's always been you!" His grin broadened, because there were few things they could say to counter that. He was certain that they wouldn't take it seriously.
He was right. Seamus grinned back. "Alright, mate, whatever ye say."
Only Hedwig, who was perched on Harry's bedpost, noticed Dean's eyes flicker towards the floor, hurt, and Hedwig wasn't saying anything.
***
"Cut... it... out... you guys..." Draco said, strained but attempting to sound like he could do something about it if he wanted to. Of course, it didn't work, but it made him feel a little better... if there was such thing as 'better' at that point.
Crabbe and Goyle just laughed. It was a rather disheartening sound.
***
It was almost time for dinner when the boys let thier conversation trail off.
"C'mon, let's eat!" was the general consensus. They all walked down to the dining hall.
***
Halfway through the meal, Harry saw Draco. The blonde was walking very close to the wall, half-crouched over as if cradling a bruise. Harry excused himself hastily on grounds of 'sorry, I need to visit the lavatory'.
He met Draco (who had seen Harry and got the idea quickly), in the entrance hall. "What happened to you? You look terrible!"
Draco winced slightly. "Crabbe and Goyle."
"But--"
"Not anymore, Potter, not anymore. Apparently I was rejected by the Dark Lord." He snorted. "Like I ever would have joined him. The idiot Longbottom could put a plan together better than him."
"Eh?"
"Oh, honestly, the only thing he had going for him was a Killing Curse, a bit of fear, and a talent for acting."
"Really?"
"No, Potter-- he spent his days conjuring butterflies. Of course, really! I think I'm in a better position to know."
"How--"
"Let's not get into it."
"OK, but... I'm not going to let you get more hurt by hanging out with your little thugs. You're coming to my dorm tonight."
"But--"
"No buts. They outweigh you by what, four hundred pounds?"
"Five hundred seventy five."
"There you have it." Seeing the look on Draco's face, he explained. "Oh, it's perfectly safe, don't worry about it. I have an Invisibility Cloak--" Draco gasped-- "And I know *several* charms that will protect the bed. Just wake me up if you have to go to the lavatory, otherwise we're both screwed. C'mon, you're coming with me."
"Now?"
"If that's what happens when I let you out of my sight for eight hours, yes, now. We can get food from the house-elves later."
The two boys ran off to the Gryffindor dorm.
***
Late that night, the two boys were cuddling, nothing more. Harry refused any more intimate contact, and Draco refused to see Madame Pomfrey. Neither could sleep easily, however.
Their breath mingled as they heard a soft voice through the curtains. "Seamus?"
Harry recognised it as Dean's, and perked up to listen.
"I'm a bit frightened of what's happened over vacation-- can I share your bed?"
"Sure, there's room enough for two."
Harry's mouth dropped open as the sound of rustling bedclothes drifted across the room. He quickly recast the silence spell around his bed, just before he heard a whispered 'thanks' from Dean's direction.
Draco looked at Harry. "You never told me your roommates were gay."
"I-- I never knew." He looked over at the blonde. "Plus, we've only really known each other for-- how long? Two weeks since I rescued you?"
Draco sighed, touching a bruise on his flank. "Sometimes I wish you hadn't."
"Don't say that. If I hadn't, you'd be dead." Harry read Draco's facial expression, which was something along the lines of "Wasn't that the point?" He continued hastily, deciding to make light rather than dark of it. "Furthermore, if I hadn't rescued you... we would have both missed out on a great deal of amazing sex."
"That good, eh, Potter?"
"Damn close." Harry watched as the blonde winced. His tone softening, he said: "Would a kiss make it better?" [A/N-- that's my personal tag line-- whenever anyone complains, I say that, and they shut up pretty fast, usually accompanied by an emphatic 'no'. There has been, to date, exactly one person who has said yes to that question.]
Draco gave Harry a Look. "What are you, nuts?"
Harry returned the Look with a endearingly cute puppydog face.
"Alright... only if it makes you feel better." Draco conceded, wondered why exactly he was conceding as he never conceded to anyone, then decided that Harry was an exception. He rolled over onto his back and tucked his arms behind his head, eyes closing. "Whatever makes you happy."
Harry balanced carefully over the injured blonde. "I'd be happiest if you weren't hurt."
Draco cocked a silver eye open. "Why? Because then you'd be kissing me for a different reason?"
Harry made a face. "That wasn't the idea, but it works too." He paused. "No, seriously. It's because I care."
Draco made a halfhearted derogatory comment about Gryffindors and thier moral standards, but the effect was lost as Harry proceeded to try to kiss away Draco's numerous cuts and bruises.
Before they fell asleep, Draco muttered: "I'm just lucky they didn't break any bones."
***
Neville woke the boys up at five-thirty in the morning by running back into the dorm yelling. "The second-years! They're all gone!"
Draco woke up, disgruntled, and poked Harry. "I'm *not* a morning person," he said crabbily.
Harry shook his head a couple of times, listened to Neville, lifted the silencing charm, and called out to Neville. "What do you mean, they're gone?"
"They've disappeared! No trace of them! Dumbledore's frantic!"
Seamus's head poked out of his curtain. "Are you sure you've not misplaced them, Neville?"
Neville frowned at Seamus. "It's not the time for jokes! This is really serious!"
Dean's head poked out of the same curtain. Harry blatantly stared. "Uh... what are you two doing in the same bed?" He asked of both Seamus and Dean.
"Sleeping, idiot!" Seamus said, as though it were obvious.
"Were you sleeping... or 'sleeping'?"
"Just sleeping! Geez." Dean's blush, however, made Harry less than sure of the truth in Seamus's words.
"All the second years are gone?" Harry asked, suddenly anxious to change the subject. Inside the bed, Draco was under the covers, trying to look inconspicious. It was easy, he was so thin. Harry wasn't worried.
Neville nodded. "All of them. Colin Creevey's going nuts."
Harry looked guilty. He'd been less than kind upon several occasions to the smaller boy. "I'm sorry. What can we do?"
"I don't know!" said Neville. Seamus snickered (actually, it sounded more like 'typical' to Harry, but...) and was promptly elbowed in the ribs by Dean. "Dumbledore thinks it has something to do with--" he lowered his voice-- "You-Know-Who."
Harry grimaced. "Big surprise there."
"What do you mean?"
"Remember when Dumbledore told us he was getting stronger?"
"No," Neville replied promptly. Seamus buried his head in his pillow to avoid further chastisement from Dean.
"Well, he is-- he took me over break."
Neville's eyes expanded to the size of soup tureens (don't you think 'saucers' is overused?) "He what?"
Harry sighed heavily. "Kidnapped me. Stole me. Came into Hogwarts on a broomstick disguised as my Uncle Vernon. Well-- actually, he is my Uncle Vernon, come to think of it. But they know that now. I don't want to get into it."
Neville's face showed some amount of sympathy. "Gee, Harry, I'm sorry--"
"Don't talk about it." Harry's eyes were shadowed over with the experience of having seen too much. Neville read and understood the expression. He thanked his lucky stars that Harry was still sane.
"How did you get away?" asked Seamus, not having had Neville's realm of experience to work with.
Harry answered curtly. "Herm and Ron Summoned me back."
"But-- Harry-- that's impossible!" Dean exclaimed. "You can't Summon people! It just doesn't work!"
Harry looked confused. "Then how?" He shook his head. "I'm going back to bed, I'm tired. We can talk later. See you at lunch."
"But Harry, we have classes today!"
"Yeah, but not for another couple hours. It's five thirty AM! What were you thinking, Neville?"
"Um... I couldn't get to sleep, so I went wandering, I guess."
"Hmmm... is this the same Neville who offered to fight us back in first year for going after the Stone?"
"I guess."
"Well... see you." Harry shut the drapes and recast the Silencing spell.
Draco sat up, disgusted. "So, Potter, now that I'm awake, how do you propose to get me out of a dorm full of teenage boys who are also awake?"
"Um... we could be late to breakfast."
"And what are we going to do in the meantime?"
"I'm going to sleep." Harry rolled over and shut his eyes.
Draco frowned. He was having to get used to a lot of things he wasn't sure he wanted to get used to, and being ignored was one of them. He growled softly. "No, you most certainly are not!" He rolled Harry onto his front roughly and poked him in the middle of the chest. "Tonight was a temporary reprieve. What are we going to do for the rest of my life? For that matter, what are we going to say when people ask questions? They are, Potter, and there's nothing we can do about it. And unless we make up a damn good story, there's no way I'm coming out of this alive-- unless you want to risk veritaserum, which is more certain suicide?"
Harry was instantly awake.
Transcending the Bullshit, Chapter 13
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: THEY'RE NOT MINE! This is chapter 13, folks, 13, and I STILL don't own them, nor anything remotely resembling what they're worth. *bursts into tears* Now, see what you've done! *runs off*
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
A thank-you for all the reviews; I feed them to my muse who helps me write these chapters, however long they may be in coming (hint: It's hard to write with a hungry muse). Occasionally, they make me double-take, blink, and say something along the lines of "I wrote that? Oh, yeah, I wrote that!"
Note: The fifth book is apparently coming out in June. Having nearly fallen off my chair upon discovering this, I felt compelled to share the rumour. *personality switch * CAN YOU BELIEVE IT????? I'M SO HAPPY! *calms down* Please read this fic in addition to the book. Unless I'm too busy reading it to write.
***
Oh god. I got him in trouble. No, am getting him in trouble. I can't think of anything... and, just when I thought my life was filling out there are more voids. Why... why... It's all Voldemort.
I was born to kill him, wasn't I. It's just fact. I have no destiny unless I stain my hands with blood-- true, the blood is that of a murderer, but...
I will no longer be the Boy who Lived. I will be, also, the Boy who Killed. People will love me for it.
Half of me wonders if it isn't the right thing to do, and half of me claims the contrary.
And I have a defenseless blonde curled on my pillow next to me, asking me to save him. What he doesn't know-- what no one knows-- is that I can barely save myself.
Each encounter with Voldemort leaves me in the hospital wing for days.
I look at my latest encounter. I ran away, the coward's path.
Do I deserve to live? My mother gave her life for me.
He's still watching me, and I'm going to let him down. I've let myself and so many others down, and in so many ways.
Dumbledore is aging. He hides it as well as anyone can, and has sort of a glamour about him-- all anyone sees is the powerful magic he commands. While he lives, it is his to keep, but-- I fear for his life, though it is not mine to protect. How much longer will he live?
Who will protect those who are young and weaker when he is gone-- for all good things must end.
Something has troubled my sleep for days, now. I wonder... my own ability has been linked with Voldemort's on two seperate occasions already, and there is no promise that it will not happen again. Will my own life be forfeit to take his?
Will I be strong enough to do it, if it comes to that?
Will I be strong enough to face him?
Will I be strong enough?
***
Draco had watched Harry's face long enough, trying to decipher its expressions. "Well?" he asked.
Harry started. "Um..."
Draco sighed. "All right. I've thought of something. Looks like Golden Boy's failed something outside of Potions class, for once." He meant it in jest.
Harry, however, winced. Draco saw, then understood he'd unknowingly spiked a sore spot. It would be something he'd have to bring up-- at a later date, when both boys had less on thier minds.
"Pixie dust."
"Oh, not your drugs again!" Harry's face contorted, somewhere between disgust and horror. "Please tell me you're not--"
"No, Potter, I haven't. But if I make it look like I was tripping all night-- well, detention is the worst they can do to me. At least that'll get me out of the dorm. Crabbe and Goyle will think nothing of it. They haven't got the intellegence."
"Well... if that's your story..." Harry waved his wand. "Then you were wandering around half-dazed, and Potter intervened-- bumping into a peer in trouble. Naturally, a healing spell is in order, wouldn't you think?"
Draco felt like he'd just been dipped into some holy fountain of healing. He smiled weakly. "That's what all you bloody Gryffindors would do, isn't it."
Harry nodded. "Yeah." He paused. "Or, there's this." He dragged his Invisibility Cloak out from under the pillow. "We could use this."
"That's a--" Draco sputtered.
"Invisibility Cloak? It comes in handy, I'll tell you."
"Your mates won't ask questions?"
"I really, really doubt it. What with Seamus and Dean and whatever Neville was doing up at that godforsakenly early hour of the morning, I think this dorm is on a permanent unspoken 'don't ask, don't tell' policy."
"You sound like that musical."
"Eh?"
"Guys and Dolls. Oldest established, permanent floating-- ack, never mind. Just get me the hell out of here."
***
Two figures cloaked in grey walked arm in arm out of mist in the Forbidden Forest. Both slouched, one carried a cat.
The one without the cat spoke in a whisper shadowed with the tone of one used to a certain degree of whining. "Don't forget-- noone must know of this meeting."
Stroking the cat, the other replied, "We serve the same master. I wouldn't forget." A clump of greasy hair poked out of the hood.
"Well then-- at our next meeting, lover. The Dark Lord rewards those who serve him well, and I intend to be one of those favored few. "
"As do I. I will see you." He strode towards the castle.
The other looked about nervously, muttered an incantation to a necklace he wore, and was gone.
***
After breakfast, Harry found himself in Divination. He considered cutting it, then gave in with a 'what-the-hell' attitude. It's not like he had anything better to do, and it was presumably safer. Besides... he wanted to watch the people he thought he knew so well-- but apparently didn't. The class seemed like an opportunity.
Five minutes in, duped by the heady perfume of the room, Harry was seriously reconsidering both the wisdom of his choice and his sanity. Even Ron wasn't there to ease the sheer boredom of the class.
Professor Trelawney was up in the front of the room, perched on a pouf and peering intently into a chalice of water. Lavendar and Parvati, ever her faithful disciples, were attempting to peer over her shoulder. Harry was doing his best to ignore it all, he was getting a headache from the smoke.
His efforts were thwarted rudely when the teacher let out a rather loud, disturbing squawk.
"I see Harry Potter!" she screeched.
Harry rolled his eyes, bracing himself for another death prediction.
"And Harry Potter is--" The teacher peered for another moment, then toppled straight off of the pouf into Lavendar. This served two purposes: ruffling both her syncophants and amusing the male contingent of the class.
She reemerged from underneath the table slowly. "I have never seen such a thing! This is a unique prediction!"
Parvati made sounds of distress. "Is he going to die, Professor?" she asked urgently.
Trelawney removed her spectacles and rubbed them slowly on some obscure outcropping of her voluminous costume. "No..." she said faintly. "He will find love at Hogwart's."
Parvati squealed, and Lavendar made some attemt thereof from the carpet. "Who?" both wanted to know.
"This has not been revealed to me..." Trelawney said. "But... this love... is not female... nor are the activities in which they engage in school appropriate..."
At this, everyone laughed except Harry, who scowled. "Well, if we're all done with the joke?" he snapped.
Professor Trelawney shook her head slowly. "It is no joke, Mr. Potter. I feel this ends today's lesson. I believe I am morally obligated to speak with Professor Dumbledore about this."
Oh, shit, thought Harry. Just what I need. He packed up his books with some apprehension and walked out of the room.
***
Harry plunked down at the lunch table, intending to eat quickly and get away.
Instead, he was surrounded by half the house. He saw Colin Creevey in the throng and groaned.
It was Seamus that spoke first. "So, Harry, is there something you haven't been telling us?"
***
Ron woke up in the middle of the night in the hospital wing to see three dark, hooded figures around his sister's bed, poking her with thier wands. He sat bolt upright. "Get away from her!" he yelled. He could tell they weren't the Hogwart's staff.
Besides, he rationalised, what person would go about hooded if that person did not have an explicit wish to conceal their identity?
***
The next morning, Professor McGonagall found Ronald Weasley in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, bruised heavily and unconcious.
Transcending the Bullshit, Chapter 14
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: Er... I haven't had access to a computer for a while, so I obviously don't own much of anything, otherwise this would have been a lot quicker in coming, due to a new computer.
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
Note: I think this first bit comes out of order. My apologies. Hopefully, it isn't too confusing, and I can get back into the flow of things with minimal hassle. Also, my sincerest apologies to those of you who went 'pop' while awaiting this. Rest assured, this is the soonest possible release date for this, and at no fault of my own, unlike OTHER authors I could speak of (cough, JK, cough). It's not like I've been off BUYING A CASTLE or anything. Technical difficulties. I swear.
***
Draco walked into the Great Hall, trying for some semblance of his customary swagger, then seated himself between Crabbe and Goyle. As he expected, he recieved somewhat less than a warm welcome.
'Where were you?' Crabbe asked, in a rehearsed line.
Draco's line was equally rehearsed. He giggled. 'I was tripping!' He smiled inanely at the two clearly confused boys.
Goyle's face contorted in his inability to understand. With some effort, he vocalised. 'What?'
Pansy leaned over the table and smacked Goyle upside the head. 'Idiot! He was doing drugs.'
Goyle was still flummoxed by the bi- and tri- syllabic words. Pansy shrugged. 'Look, don't sweat it. Leave everything to me.'
Draco maintained his altered-mentality exterior while figuratively breaking into a cold sweat. He could avoid Crabbe and Goyle, but if they had aquired Pansy as thier leader, he was screwed. Pansy might not be visually attractive, but there was definitely something other than hairballs between her ears.
He watched as her eyes narrowed. 'Don't let it happen again.'
Yep. He was screwed.
***
Ron moaned and woke up nastily. His head was throbbing, and when he reached up, there was a lump the size of a small kitten on his left temple. Madame Pomfrey was standing over him. 'Mr. Weasley. It is ten o'clock in the evening, and you have been unconcious for Heaven knows how long. Would you very kindly explain this to us?' She softened, as if she had just realised she was actually speaking to a wounded person. 'I'm sorry. We've all been worried. Whatever happened?'
Ron blanched. 'Ginny-- where is she?'
'Right in her bed. What happened?' Madame Pomfrey spoke a bit more sharply.
Ron shook his head to try to clear it, which was a mistake. After Madame Pomfrey waved her wand and some of the pain subsided, Ron spoke.'People-- hoods-- wearing black-- looked like they were going to curse her or something... I yelled, and the next thing I knew... it was thirty seconds ago...'
The nurse frowned and ran for Dumbledore.
***
'Good evening, Severus. I trust you are in good health?' The voice was smooth and well-polished, and came from the direction of the fireplace.
The Potions master did not turn around. 'Very well, thank you. Do sit down.'
***
Harry walked nervously into Dumbledore's office. 'Sir? You asked to see me?'
Dumbledore paused for a moment to offer Harry a chocolate frog. 'Mr. Potter, Madame Trelawney has brought to my attention an illicit relationship that you may or may not be having yet. Would you like to share anything with me?'
Harry stared for a moment. 'Professor-- I don't-- what do you mean?'
The twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes flashed a bit more brightly. 'I simply wanted to know if what she mentioned was true. That the Boy Who Lived has a lover has interesting implications for the situation at hand. There are several things that you should know if--'
At that point, Madame Pomfrey burst into the office. 'I'm ever so sorry, Professor, but it's urgent. Death Eaters have been in Hogwart's, leaving young Mr. Weasley in a nasty state. Something MUST be done!'
Dumbledore sighed. 'Very well. Mr. Potter, please return to your dorm. I would like to see you again, if possible, tomorrow before breakfast.' His twinkle went off again. 'It is quite all right if you find yourself in a position to have to bring company.'
Harry nodded and left promptly.
***
Draco screamed and ran. He simply was not going to put up with it any longer. Crabbe and Goyle began to chase him, but Pansy laughed. 'Let him run. He knows there's always going to be more. He has nowhere to go. He'll never go to the hospital wing.'
Draco almost smiled. Pansy was only half right.
***
Harry had juat fallen asleep when he felt a soft body collapse onto his. His eyes flew open. One look at soft blonde hair told him who had decided to come calling. He hooked an arm under Draco's shoulders and tugged him upright. 'What happened to you?' he chided gently.
Draco moaned. It really, really hurt.
Harry waved his wand. 'So, what are you going to do about this? Why didn't you go to the hospital wing?'
A cool, relieved sensation had spread over Draco's body. He leaned into Harry. 'Pansy did a location-charm.'
'Pansy? Location charm?'
Draco made a face. 'Pansy stepped in to lead Crabbe and Goyle.' Harry nodded at this. 'A location-charm is basically a spell that eliminates any magical effects in a certain area. It's supposed to be used for protection, but...'
'So, if you went to the hospital wing, nothing would happen? Why wouldn't you try, though? I mean, then at least Madame Pomfrey could let Dumbledore know, and maybe help your situation?'
'Suicide, Harry. I know my place. If I don't take it, then Lucius will send assassins after me.'
'For a common Muggle-born?'
'For a boy who perhaps knows too much and would be willing to share it. I've lived at the Manor all my life, for the most part. If I don't put up with it, then I have nowhere to go. Why do you put up with your godawful Muggle aunt and uncle?'
Harry nodded. 'But this-- Vernon and Petunia have never...' He stopped for a moment to think. 'Shit. I don't have anywhere to go, either. If I go home-- I'm dead.'
Draco snuggled closer. 'See? Our situations really are not that different. We're so similar... both brought up by guardians who hated us, both threatened with pain and death, both petit, both Seekers in Quidditch...'
Harry sat bolt upright and stiffened. 'Don't say that.'
Draco, who had just been getting really comfortable, was a bit miffed. 'Why not? It's true.'
'The last person who said that to me tried to kill me shortly thereafter. It's not really a good memory.'
'You don't have that many, do you?'
'I have enough. More than you do.'
'Mmmm... but you've had even worse than me. I don't pass out when I have to relive my worst.'
'I don't know...' Harry relaxed again. 'Even if the circumstances aren't the best, though, I'm glad you're here.'
Draco leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry's. 'I'm glad you're here, too.'
Later on, just after Draco had fallen asleep and just before Harry did, Dumbledore's words ran through Harry's mind. 'If you find yourself in a position to bring company...'. So, the he knew. What else was there to the Headmaster of Hogwart's? Did he know more about Harry than he was letting on? Did he know more about Harry than Harry did?
***
The next morning, Harry rose early. He shook Draco awake. The blonde was somewhat less than amused.
'Harry... mmmff... it's too early.'
'I have to see Dumbledore, and we can't leave you in here alone.'
Draco was awake and upright. 'Alright. But won't I be a bother? Won't it be bad that I came along?'
Harry paused. 'No. I think he knows you're coming.' He threw the Invisibility cloak over them. 'Let's go, then.'
***
Dumbledore watched the door open and close itself. 'Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. So glad you could make it.'
Harry dropped the cloak in a heap on the floor. 'Thank you very much, sir. But-- how did you know he was coming?'
Dumbledore chuckled. 'All in good time, my boy, all in good time. There are a couple things you should know.'
There was an awkward silence. Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued. 'Professor Trelawney has, ah, informed me that the two of you young gentlemen are somewhat more than friends.'
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore waved it off. 'No, no, Mr. Potter, no questions. It is, however unlikely you might think this is, perfectly fine in my eyes. I encourage such relationships, though discreetly, for their emotional value in the lives of young people. You are both mature young men and I trust your judgement in these matters. Mr. Malfoy, though... your judgement in attempting to take your own life at the beginning of break was less than admirable. You were very lucky Mr. Potter found you. I trust these actions will not be repeated?'
Draco nodded fervently. 'Yes, sir.'
'In any event, I am extraordinarily pleased that the two of you have found each other, especially in light of the recent developments in the Slytherin dormitory.' Dumbledore's twinkle pointed itself at Draco in a good-meaning but disconcerting way. 'I understand the situation is rather sticky at present, and judge it best not to interfere.' He paused. 'There are more pressing matters at this time, though. Voldemort, as I'm sure you both know, is rising again. Mr. Potter is going to find himself involved inevitably, to my great sorrow, as has already been shown by his five encounters with Voldemort. I would have never dreamed Voldemort and your uncle would have combined form so easily-- it is a very complex spell-- but it seems it happened rather naturally. It does present an interesting problem for the two of you. Mr. Malfoy, in your relationship, you are in a dangerous position, stickier than even the one you find yourself in currently. Not only are you Muggle-born, but you are now an obvious target for Voldemort/Vernon as Harry's lover. I advise caution. As such, I have come up with a new self-defense course taught by none other than Professor Severus Snape.'
Harry groaned.
'He's not as bad as all that. He just has an image to maintain, like me.' Draco defended the Head of his House.
Dumbledore nodded. 'He is quite over his purported hatred of James. As a matter of fact, he and one of the boys in your dorm are quite close, Mr. Potter. In any event, both of you must be trained to heal as well as defend yourselves. Certainly this will please Madame Pomfrey, as the two of you will be able to clean up your own Quidditch injuries!'
Dumbledore's twinkle went off, then quieted again. 'I have also come up with a plan to stop the attacks at Hogwart's. It has come to my attention that considerable damage has been sustained by my students over the last few weeks. I cannot allow this to continue. Therefore, I have decided to gather a meeting of involved persons-- including yourselves, Professor Snape, Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley. It will meet Wednesday evenings at the dinner hour. I hope that this group will produce some ideas that will avert the threat. I wish you well. Oh, and Harry? There's a good healing charm that will work better on Draco's injuries. I'll have the book sent up to your dormitory as soon as I can. Thank you for your time. You may move on. There seems to be another hour and a half before breakfast, and a deserted room beneath the statue of Kimberley the Kind on the second floor? The password is Honeysuckle.'
The twinkle went off for the last time before they were escorted out of the office.
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I don't own them. I don't own them. (here, I try to hypnotise you into believing the truth by repeating the same thing over and over...) I don't own them. I don't own them. I don't own them.
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
A thank-you for all the reviews; I feed them to my muse who helps me write these chapters, however long they may be in coming (hint: It's hard to write with a hungry muse).
***
Harry had welcomed his friends back happily, the only downside being Ron's absence.
In thier dorm, Harry filled them in on some of the vacation-- about the attacks. They started going on about all the presents they'd gotten, and Harry felt a guilty lurch in the pit of his stomach. He hadn't bothered to check for presents-- come to think about it, he thought Hermione had just stacked them in his trunk for him. He blushed.
"Eh, what's going on, Harry? Is there someone you fancy?" asked Seamus.
"Um." said Harry. At this point he realised that he'd made a tactical error. Now, regardless of what he said, they'd assume it meant 'yes'. He reflected a moment, then decided that they'd assume 'yes' anyways. He smiled, ran over and hugged Seamus. "Of course my love, it's always been you!" His grin broadened, because there were few things they could say to counter that. He was certain that they wouldn't take it seriously.
He was right. Seamus grinned back. "Alright, mate, whatever ye say."
Only Hedwig, who was perched on Harry's bedpost, noticed Dean's eyes flicker towards the floor, hurt, and Hedwig wasn't saying anything.
***
"Cut... it... out... you guys..." Draco said, strained but attempting to sound like he could do something about it if he wanted to. Of course, it didn't work, but it made him feel a little better... if there was such thing as 'better' at that point.
Crabbe and Goyle just laughed. It was a rather disheartening sound.
***
It was almost time for dinner when the boys let thier conversation trail off.
"C'mon, let's eat!" was the general consensus. They all walked down to the dining hall.
***
Halfway through the meal, Harry saw Draco. The blonde was walking very close to the wall, half-crouched over as if cradling a bruise. Harry excused himself hastily on grounds of 'sorry, I need to visit the lavatory'.
He met Draco (who had seen Harry and got the idea quickly), in the entrance hall. "What happened to you? You look terrible!"
Draco winced slightly. "Crabbe and Goyle."
"But--"
"Not anymore, Potter, not anymore. Apparently I was rejected by the Dark Lord." He snorted. "Like I ever would have joined him. The idiot Longbottom could put a plan together better than him."
"Eh?"
"Oh, honestly, the only thing he had going for him was a Killing Curse, a bit of fear, and a talent for acting."
"Really?"
"No, Potter-- he spent his days conjuring butterflies. Of course, really! I think I'm in a better position to know."
"How--"
"Let's not get into it."
"OK, but... I'm not going to let you get more hurt by hanging out with your little thugs. You're coming to my dorm tonight."
"But--"
"No buts. They outweigh you by what, four hundred pounds?"
"Five hundred seventy five."
"There you have it." Seeing the look on Draco's face, he explained. "Oh, it's perfectly safe, don't worry about it. I have an Invisibility Cloak--" Draco gasped-- "And I know *several* charms that will protect the bed. Just wake me up if you have to go to the lavatory, otherwise we're both screwed. C'mon, you're coming with me."
"Now?"
"If that's what happens when I let you out of my sight for eight hours, yes, now. We can get food from the house-elves later."
The two boys ran off to the Gryffindor dorm.
***
Late that night, the two boys were cuddling, nothing more. Harry refused any more intimate contact, and Draco refused to see Madame Pomfrey. Neither could sleep easily, however.
Their breath mingled as they heard a soft voice through the curtains. "Seamus?"
Harry recognised it as Dean's, and perked up to listen.
"I'm a bit frightened of what's happened over vacation-- can I share your bed?"
"Sure, there's room enough for two."
Harry's mouth dropped open as the sound of rustling bedclothes drifted across the room. He quickly recast the silence spell around his bed, just before he heard a whispered 'thanks' from Dean's direction.
Draco looked at Harry. "You never told me your roommates were gay."
"I-- I never knew." He looked over at the blonde. "Plus, we've only really known each other for-- how long? Two weeks since I rescued you?"
Draco sighed, touching a bruise on his flank. "Sometimes I wish you hadn't."
"Don't say that. If I hadn't, you'd be dead." Harry read Draco's facial expression, which was something along the lines of "Wasn't that the point?" He continued hastily, deciding to make light rather than dark of it. "Furthermore, if I hadn't rescued you... we would have both missed out on a great deal of amazing sex."
"That good, eh, Potter?"
"Damn close." Harry watched as the blonde winced. His tone softening, he said: "Would a kiss make it better?" [A/N-- that's my personal tag line-- whenever anyone complains, I say that, and they shut up pretty fast, usually accompanied by an emphatic 'no'. There has been, to date, exactly one person who has said yes to that question.]
Draco gave Harry a Look. "What are you, nuts?"
Harry returned the Look with a endearingly cute puppydog face.
"Alright... only if it makes you feel better." Draco conceded, wondered why exactly he was conceding as he never conceded to anyone, then decided that Harry was an exception. He rolled over onto his back and tucked his arms behind his head, eyes closing. "Whatever makes you happy."
Harry balanced carefully over the injured blonde. "I'd be happiest if you weren't hurt."
Draco cocked a silver eye open. "Why? Because then you'd be kissing me for a different reason?"
Harry made a face. "That wasn't the idea, but it works too." He paused. "No, seriously. It's because I care."
Draco made a halfhearted derogatory comment about Gryffindors and thier moral standards, but the effect was lost as Harry proceeded to try to kiss away Draco's numerous cuts and bruises.
Before they fell asleep, Draco muttered: "I'm just lucky they didn't break any bones."
***
Neville woke the boys up at five-thirty in the morning by running back into the dorm yelling. "The second-years! They're all gone!"
Draco woke up, disgruntled, and poked Harry. "I'm *not* a morning person," he said crabbily.
Harry shook his head a couple of times, listened to Neville, lifted the silencing charm, and called out to Neville. "What do you mean, they're gone?"
"They've disappeared! No trace of them! Dumbledore's frantic!"
Seamus's head poked out of his curtain. "Are you sure you've not misplaced them, Neville?"
Neville frowned at Seamus. "It's not the time for jokes! This is really serious!"
Dean's head poked out of the same curtain. Harry blatantly stared. "Uh... what are you two doing in the same bed?" He asked of both Seamus and Dean.
"Sleeping, idiot!" Seamus said, as though it were obvious.
"Were you sleeping... or 'sleeping'?"
"Just sleeping! Geez." Dean's blush, however, made Harry less than sure of the truth in Seamus's words.
"All the second years are gone?" Harry asked, suddenly anxious to change the subject. Inside the bed, Draco was under the covers, trying to look inconspicious. It was easy, he was so thin. Harry wasn't worried.
Neville nodded. "All of them. Colin Creevey's going nuts."
Harry looked guilty. He'd been less than kind upon several occasions to the smaller boy. "I'm sorry. What can we do?"
"I don't know!" said Neville. Seamus snickered (actually, it sounded more like 'typical' to Harry, but...) and was promptly elbowed in the ribs by Dean. "Dumbledore thinks it has something to do with--" he lowered his voice-- "You-Know-Who."
Harry grimaced. "Big surprise there."
"What do you mean?"
"Remember when Dumbledore told us he was getting stronger?"
"No," Neville replied promptly. Seamus buried his head in his pillow to avoid further chastisement from Dean.
"Well, he is-- he took me over break."
Neville's eyes expanded to the size of soup tureens (don't you think 'saucers' is overused?) "He what?"
Harry sighed heavily. "Kidnapped me. Stole me. Came into Hogwarts on a broomstick disguised as my Uncle Vernon. Well-- actually, he is my Uncle Vernon, come to think of it. But they know that now. I don't want to get into it."
Neville's face showed some amount of sympathy. "Gee, Harry, I'm sorry--"
"Don't talk about it." Harry's eyes were shadowed over with the experience of having seen too much. Neville read and understood the expression. He thanked his lucky stars that Harry was still sane.
"How did you get away?" asked Seamus, not having had Neville's realm of experience to work with.
Harry answered curtly. "Herm and Ron Summoned me back."
"But-- Harry-- that's impossible!" Dean exclaimed. "You can't Summon people! It just doesn't work!"
Harry looked confused. "Then how?" He shook his head. "I'm going back to bed, I'm tired. We can talk later. See you at lunch."
"But Harry, we have classes today!"
"Yeah, but not for another couple hours. It's five thirty AM! What were you thinking, Neville?"
"Um... I couldn't get to sleep, so I went wandering, I guess."
"Hmmm... is this the same Neville who offered to fight us back in first year for going after the Stone?"
"I guess."
"Well... see you." Harry shut the drapes and recast the Silencing spell.
Draco sat up, disgusted. "So, Potter, now that I'm awake, how do you propose to get me out of a dorm full of teenage boys who are also awake?"
"Um... we could be late to breakfast."
"And what are we going to do in the meantime?"
"I'm going to sleep." Harry rolled over and shut his eyes.
Draco frowned. He was having to get used to a lot of things he wasn't sure he wanted to get used to, and being ignored was one of them. He growled softly. "No, you most certainly are not!" He rolled Harry onto his front roughly and poked him in the middle of the chest. "Tonight was a temporary reprieve. What are we going to do for the rest of my life? For that matter, what are we going to say when people ask questions? They are, Potter, and there's nothing we can do about it. And unless we make up a damn good story, there's no way I'm coming out of this alive-- unless you want to risk veritaserum, which is more certain suicide?"
Harry was instantly awake.
Transcending the Bullshit, Chapter 13
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: THEY'RE NOT MINE! This is chapter 13, folks, 13, and I STILL don't own them, nor anything remotely resembling what they're worth. *bursts into tears* Now, see what you've done! *runs off*
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
A thank-you for all the reviews; I feed them to my muse who helps me write these chapters, however long they may be in coming (hint: It's hard to write with a hungry muse). Occasionally, they make me double-take, blink, and say something along the lines of "I wrote that? Oh, yeah, I wrote that!"
Note: The fifth book is apparently coming out in June. Having nearly fallen off my chair upon discovering this, I felt compelled to share the rumour. *personality switch * CAN YOU BELIEVE IT????? I'M SO HAPPY! *calms down* Please read this fic in addition to the book. Unless I'm too busy reading it to write.
***
Oh god. I got him in trouble. No, am getting him in trouble. I can't think of anything... and, just when I thought my life was filling out there are more voids. Why... why... It's all Voldemort.
I was born to kill him, wasn't I. It's just fact. I have no destiny unless I stain my hands with blood-- true, the blood is that of a murderer, but...
I will no longer be the Boy who Lived. I will be, also, the Boy who Killed. People will love me for it.
Half of me wonders if it isn't the right thing to do, and half of me claims the contrary.
And I have a defenseless blonde curled on my pillow next to me, asking me to save him. What he doesn't know-- what no one knows-- is that I can barely save myself.
Each encounter with Voldemort leaves me in the hospital wing for days.
I look at my latest encounter. I ran away, the coward's path.
Do I deserve to live? My mother gave her life for me.
He's still watching me, and I'm going to let him down. I've let myself and so many others down, and in so many ways.
Dumbledore is aging. He hides it as well as anyone can, and has sort of a glamour about him-- all anyone sees is the powerful magic he commands. While he lives, it is his to keep, but-- I fear for his life, though it is not mine to protect. How much longer will he live?
Who will protect those who are young and weaker when he is gone-- for all good things must end.
Something has troubled my sleep for days, now. I wonder... my own ability has been linked with Voldemort's on two seperate occasions already, and there is no promise that it will not happen again. Will my own life be forfeit to take his?
Will I be strong enough to do it, if it comes to that?
Will I be strong enough to face him?
Will I be strong enough?
***
Draco had watched Harry's face long enough, trying to decipher its expressions. "Well?" he asked.
Harry started. "Um..."
Draco sighed. "All right. I've thought of something. Looks like Golden Boy's failed something outside of Potions class, for once." He meant it in jest.
Harry, however, winced. Draco saw, then understood he'd unknowingly spiked a sore spot. It would be something he'd have to bring up-- at a later date, when both boys had less on thier minds.
"Pixie dust."
"Oh, not your drugs again!" Harry's face contorted, somewhere between disgust and horror. "Please tell me you're not--"
"No, Potter, I haven't. But if I make it look like I was tripping all night-- well, detention is the worst they can do to me. At least that'll get me out of the dorm. Crabbe and Goyle will think nothing of it. They haven't got the intellegence."
"Well... if that's your story..." Harry waved his wand. "Then you were wandering around half-dazed, and Potter intervened-- bumping into a peer in trouble. Naturally, a healing spell is in order, wouldn't you think?"
Draco felt like he'd just been dipped into some holy fountain of healing. He smiled weakly. "That's what all you bloody Gryffindors would do, isn't it."
Harry nodded. "Yeah." He paused. "Or, there's this." He dragged his Invisibility Cloak out from under the pillow. "We could use this."
"That's a--" Draco sputtered.
"Invisibility Cloak? It comes in handy, I'll tell you."
"Your mates won't ask questions?"
"I really, really doubt it. What with Seamus and Dean and whatever Neville was doing up at that godforsakenly early hour of the morning, I think this dorm is on a permanent unspoken 'don't ask, don't tell' policy."
"You sound like that musical."
"Eh?"
"Guys and Dolls. Oldest established, permanent floating-- ack, never mind. Just get me the hell out of here."
***
Two figures cloaked in grey walked arm in arm out of mist in the Forbidden Forest. Both slouched, one carried a cat.
The one without the cat spoke in a whisper shadowed with the tone of one used to a certain degree of whining. "Don't forget-- noone must know of this meeting."
Stroking the cat, the other replied, "We serve the same master. I wouldn't forget." A clump of greasy hair poked out of the hood.
"Well then-- at our next meeting, lover. The Dark Lord rewards those who serve him well, and I intend to be one of those favored few. "
"As do I. I will see you." He strode towards the castle.
The other looked about nervously, muttered an incantation to a necklace he wore, and was gone.
***
After breakfast, Harry found himself in Divination. He considered cutting it, then gave in with a 'what-the-hell' attitude. It's not like he had anything better to do, and it was presumably safer. Besides... he wanted to watch the people he thought he knew so well-- but apparently didn't. The class seemed like an opportunity.
Five minutes in, duped by the heady perfume of the room, Harry was seriously reconsidering both the wisdom of his choice and his sanity. Even Ron wasn't there to ease the sheer boredom of the class.
Professor Trelawney was up in the front of the room, perched on a pouf and peering intently into a chalice of water. Lavendar and Parvati, ever her faithful disciples, were attempting to peer over her shoulder. Harry was doing his best to ignore it all, he was getting a headache from the smoke.
His efforts were thwarted rudely when the teacher let out a rather loud, disturbing squawk.
"I see Harry Potter!" she screeched.
Harry rolled his eyes, bracing himself for another death prediction.
"And Harry Potter is--" The teacher peered for another moment, then toppled straight off of the pouf into Lavendar. This served two purposes: ruffling both her syncophants and amusing the male contingent of the class.
She reemerged from underneath the table slowly. "I have never seen such a thing! This is a unique prediction!"
Parvati made sounds of distress. "Is he going to die, Professor?" she asked urgently.
Trelawney removed her spectacles and rubbed them slowly on some obscure outcropping of her voluminous costume. "No..." she said faintly. "He will find love at Hogwart's."
Parvati squealed, and Lavendar made some attemt thereof from the carpet. "Who?" both wanted to know.
"This has not been revealed to me..." Trelawney said. "But... this love... is not female... nor are the activities in which they engage in school appropriate..."
At this, everyone laughed except Harry, who scowled. "Well, if we're all done with the joke?" he snapped.
Professor Trelawney shook her head slowly. "It is no joke, Mr. Potter. I feel this ends today's lesson. I believe I am morally obligated to speak with Professor Dumbledore about this."
Oh, shit, thought Harry. Just what I need. He packed up his books with some apprehension and walked out of the room.
***
Harry plunked down at the lunch table, intending to eat quickly and get away.
Instead, he was surrounded by half the house. He saw Colin Creevey in the throng and groaned.
It was Seamus that spoke first. "So, Harry, is there something you haven't been telling us?"
***
Ron woke up in the middle of the night in the hospital wing to see three dark, hooded figures around his sister's bed, poking her with thier wands. He sat bolt upright. "Get away from her!" he yelled. He could tell they weren't the Hogwart's staff.
Besides, he rationalised, what person would go about hooded if that person did not have an explicit wish to conceal their identity?
***
The next morning, Professor McGonagall found Ronald Weasley in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, bruised heavily and unconcious.
Transcending the Bullshit, Chapter 14
By Goddess JacquesPierre
Disclaimer: Er... I haven't had access to a computer for a while, so I obviously don't own much of anything, otherwise this would have been a lot quicker in coming, due to a new computer.
Rating: R
Warnings: Frequent shift of format, possibly shifiting POV, slash, angst, masochism, now drug use/abuse, I s'pose. Did I leave out language? There's a lot of it, cause it's a text document.
Note: I think this first bit comes out of order. My apologies. Hopefully, it isn't too confusing, and I can get back into the flow of things with minimal hassle. Also, my sincerest apologies to those of you who went 'pop' while awaiting this. Rest assured, this is the soonest possible release date for this, and at no fault of my own, unlike OTHER authors I could speak of (cough, JK, cough). It's not like I've been off BUYING A CASTLE or anything. Technical difficulties. I swear.
***
Draco walked into the Great Hall, trying for some semblance of his customary swagger, then seated himself between Crabbe and Goyle. As he expected, he recieved somewhat less than a warm welcome.
'Where were you?' Crabbe asked, in a rehearsed line.
Draco's line was equally rehearsed. He giggled. 'I was tripping!' He smiled inanely at the two clearly confused boys.
Goyle's face contorted in his inability to understand. With some effort, he vocalised. 'What?'
Pansy leaned over the table and smacked Goyle upside the head. 'Idiot! He was doing drugs.'
Goyle was still flummoxed by the bi- and tri- syllabic words. Pansy shrugged. 'Look, don't sweat it. Leave everything to me.'
Draco maintained his altered-mentality exterior while figuratively breaking into a cold sweat. He could avoid Crabbe and Goyle, but if they had aquired Pansy as thier leader, he was screwed. Pansy might not be visually attractive, but there was definitely something other than hairballs between her ears.
He watched as her eyes narrowed. 'Don't let it happen again.'
Yep. He was screwed.
***
Ron moaned and woke up nastily. His head was throbbing, and when he reached up, there was a lump the size of a small kitten on his left temple. Madame Pomfrey was standing over him. 'Mr. Weasley. It is ten o'clock in the evening, and you have been unconcious for Heaven knows how long. Would you very kindly explain this to us?' She softened, as if she had just realised she was actually speaking to a wounded person. 'I'm sorry. We've all been worried. Whatever happened?'
Ron blanched. 'Ginny-- where is she?'
'Right in her bed. What happened?' Madame Pomfrey spoke a bit more sharply.
Ron shook his head to try to clear it, which was a mistake. After Madame Pomfrey waved her wand and some of the pain subsided, Ron spoke.'People-- hoods-- wearing black-- looked like they were going to curse her or something... I yelled, and the next thing I knew... it was thirty seconds ago...'
The nurse frowned and ran for Dumbledore.
***
'Good evening, Severus. I trust you are in good health?' The voice was smooth and well-polished, and came from the direction of the fireplace.
The Potions master did not turn around. 'Very well, thank you. Do sit down.'
***
Harry walked nervously into Dumbledore's office. 'Sir? You asked to see me?'
Dumbledore paused for a moment to offer Harry a chocolate frog. 'Mr. Potter, Madame Trelawney has brought to my attention an illicit relationship that you may or may not be having yet. Would you like to share anything with me?'
Harry stared for a moment. 'Professor-- I don't-- what do you mean?'
The twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes flashed a bit more brightly. 'I simply wanted to know if what she mentioned was true. That the Boy Who Lived has a lover has interesting implications for the situation at hand. There are several things that you should know if--'
At that point, Madame Pomfrey burst into the office. 'I'm ever so sorry, Professor, but it's urgent. Death Eaters have been in Hogwart's, leaving young Mr. Weasley in a nasty state. Something MUST be done!'
Dumbledore sighed. 'Very well. Mr. Potter, please return to your dorm. I would like to see you again, if possible, tomorrow before breakfast.' His twinkle went off again. 'It is quite all right if you find yourself in a position to have to bring company.'
Harry nodded and left promptly.
***
Draco screamed and ran. He simply was not going to put up with it any longer. Crabbe and Goyle began to chase him, but Pansy laughed. 'Let him run. He knows there's always going to be more. He has nowhere to go. He'll never go to the hospital wing.'
Draco almost smiled. Pansy was only half right.
***
Harry had juat fallen asleep when he felt a soft body collapse onto his. His eyes flew open. One look at soft blonde hair told him who had decided to come calling. He hooked an arm under Draco's shoulders and tugged him upright. 'What happened to you?' he chided gently.
Draco moaned. It really, really hurt.
Harry waved his wand. 'So, what are you going to do about this? Why didn't you go to the hospital wing?'
A cool, relieved sensation had spread over Draco's body. He leaned into Harry. 'Pansy did a location-charm.'
'Pansy? Location charm?'
Draco made a face. 'Pansy stepped in to lead Crabbe and Goyle.' Harry nodded at this. 'A location-charm is basically a spell that eliminates any magical effects in a certain area. It's supposed to be used for protection, but...'
'So, if you went to the hospital wing, nothing would happen? Why wouldn't you try, though? I mean, then at least Madame Pomfrey could let Dumbledore know, and maybe help your situation?'
'Suicide, Harry. I know my place. If I don't take it, then Lucius will send assassins after me.'
'For a common Muggle-born?'
'For a boy who perhaps knows too much and would be willing to share it. I've lived at the Manor all my life, for the most part. If I don't put up with it, then I have nowhere to go. Why do you put up with your godawful Muggle aunt and uncle?'
Harry nodded. 'But this-- Vernon and Petunia have never...' He stopped for a moment to think. 'Shit. I don't have anywhere to go, either. If I go home-- I'm dead.'
Draco snuggled closer. 'See? Our situations really are not that different. We're so similar... both brought up by guardians who hated us, both threatened with pain and death, both petit, both Seekers in Quidditch...'
Harry sat bolt upright and stiffened. 'Don't say that.'
Draco, who had just been getting really comfortable, was a bit miffed. 'Why not? It's true.'
'The last person who said that to me tried to kill me shortly thereafter. It's not really a good memory.'
'You don't have that many, do you?'
'I have enough. More than you do.'
'Mmmm... but you've had even worse than me. I don't pass out when I have to relive my worst.'
'I don't know...' Harry relaxed again. 'Even if the circumstances aren't the best, though, I'm glad you're here.'
Draco leaned in and brushed his lips against Harry's. 'I'm glad you're here, too.'
Later on, just after Draco had fallen asleep and just before Harry did, Dumbledore's words ran through Harry's mind. 'If you find yourself in a position to bring company...'. So, the he knew. What else was there to the Headmaster of Hogwart's? Did he know more about Harry than he was letting on? Did he know more about Harry than Harry did?
***
The next morning, Harry rose early. He shook Draco awake. The blonde was somewhat less than amused.
'Harry... mmmff... it's too early.'
'I have to see Dumbledore, and we can't leave you in here alone.'
Draco was awake and upright. 'Alright. But won't I be a bother? Won't it be bad that I came along?'
Harry paused. 'No. I think he knows you're coming.' He threw the Invisibility cloak over them. 'Let's go, then.'
***
Dumbledore watched the door open and close itself. 'Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. So glad you could make it.'
Harry dropped the cloak in a heap on the floor. 'Thank you very much, sir. But-- how did you know he was coming?'
Dumbledore chuckled. 'All in good time, my boy, all in good time. There are a couple things you should know.'
There was an awkward silence. Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued. 'Professor Trelawney has, ah, informed me that the two of you young gentlemen are somewhat more than friends.'
Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore waved it off. 'No, no, Mr. Potter, no questions. It is, however unlikely you might think this is, perfectly fine in my eyes. I encourage such relationships, though discreetly, for their emotional value in the lives of young people. You are both mature young men and I trust your judgement in these matters. Mr. Malfoy, though... your judgement in attempting to take your own life at the beginning of break was less than admirable. You were very lucky Mr. Potter found you. I trust these actions will not be repeated?'
Draco nodded fervently. 'Yes, sir.'
'In any event, I am extraordinarily pleased that the two of you have found each other, especially in light of the recent developments in the Slytherin dormitory.' Dumbledore's twinkle pointed itself at Draco in a good-meaning but disconcerting way. 'I understand the situation is rather sticky at present, and judge it best not to interfere.' He paused. 'There are more pressing matters at this time, though. Voldemort, as I'm sure you both know, is rising again. Mr. Potter is going to find himself involved inevitably, to my great sorrow, as has already been shown by his five encounters with Voldemort. I would have never dreamed Voldemort and your uncle would have combined form so easily-- it is a very complex spell-- but it seems it happened rather naturally. It does present an interesting problem for the two of you. Mr. Malfoy, in your relationship, you are in a dangerous position, stickier than even the one you find yourself in currently. Not only are you Muggle-born, but you are now an obvious target for Voldemort/Vernon as Harry's lover. I advise caution. As such, I have come up with a new self-defense course taught by none other than Professor Severus Snape.'
Harry groaned.
'He's not as bad as all that. He just has an image to maintain, like me.' Draco defended the Head of his House.
Dumbledore nodded. 'He is quite over his purported hatred of James. As a matter of fact, he and one of the boys in your dorm are quite close, Mr. Potter. In any event, both of you must be trained to heal as well as defend yourselves. Certainly this will please Madame Pomfrey, as the two of you will be able to clean up your own Quidditch injuries!'
Dumbledore's twinkle went off, then quieted again. 'I have also come up with a plan to stop the attacks at Hogwart's. It has come to my attention that considerable damage has been sustained by my students over the last few weeks. I cannot allow this to continue. Therefore, I have decided to gather a meeting of involved persons-- including yourselves, Professor Snape, Neville Longbottom and Ronald Weasley. It will meet Wednesday evenings at the dinner hour. I hope that this group will produce some ideas that will avert the threat. I wish you well. Oh, and Harry? There's a good healing charm that will work better on Draco's injuries. I'll have the book sent up to your dormitory as soon as I can. Thank you for your time. You may move on. There seems to be another hour and a half before breakfast, and a deserted room beneath the statue of Kimberley the Kind on the second floor? The password is Honeysuckle.'
The twinkle went off for the last time before they were escorted out of the office.