AN: Hello again. After a long time, this story continues. Sorry 'bout the wait, but there was something I had to fix. I confess, I made a big mistake that I cannot fix in this chapter. So far my narration has alternated between 3rd person limited with Draco and 3rd person limited with Harry. This chapter HAS to be Harry's pov, so I'm messing up the order. I tried to do Draco's POV for a while, but that was awful and I had to start from scratch. I'll probably want to do a double Draco pov sometime later and hopefully that can even it out. Otherwise, I'm sorry for the sappy, fluffy, drippiness of this chapter. Once I started I just couldn't stop. Unfortunately this chapter seems to be setting the tone for quite a lot of the rest of the story.

Warning: SPOILER for Order of the Phoenix! It's not plot related at all, but I adore the new ideas, so I just had to fit one into my story. It really helped plug up a gaping plot hole! And, as usual, this story has boys loving boys, so don't read it if you don't support Massachusetts.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of J. K. Rowling's WONDERFUL creations and I am sincerely sorry about the butchering that they receive at my hands. I am also ashamed to say that I did lift a scene right out of OotP but I really couldn't figure out any other way to present the information. And keep your paws off Nat. He's all mine!

Parlance of the Serpent

Chapter 13

"Try to aim away from his face when you're casting," Hermione said, speaking rapidly as they walked along the hall under Harry's invisibility cloak. "And don't use any really damaging curses. And if he starts saying anything that even sounds like a dark curse, forget everything but a shield. And if you can't get a shield up in time, drop to the ground. And if you can't drop fast enough…"

"Hermione," Ron said exasperatedly. "Harry's fought duels before! Besides, Malfoy isn't really very good at duelling and all that. I mean he's definitely not as dangerous as You Know Who, and Harry fought him. Don't worry Harry, you'll be fine."

Harry sighed under the cloak. Hermione had been lecturing Harry on duel safety procedures since she realised she couldn't talk him out of it altogether. Ron, on the other hand, had been telling him constantly that he had nothing to worry about. Between his two best friends, Harry hadn't had a moment's rest from thinking about the upcoming duel. Not that he would have had one anyway; he'd been preoccupied with the duel all day. Like Hermione, he was worried that the duel would get too serious and that someone would be hurt. More frightening was the thought that at this point, Harry wasn't sure that he'd be able to hurt Draco if it came to that. So it was that with a mind fraught with conflict, he set out at fifteen minutes to midnight under the cloak with Ron and Hermione bickering all the way. As they got to the base of the Astronomy tower, Harry stopped them. He could hear voices up the stairs.

"Come on, you don't need to do this."

"Nat, I didn't want you with me at all, so either go back or be quiet. If I want your advice I'll ask for it."

Harry swallowed and pulled off the cloak. Ron and Hermione looked at him, both betraying their uneasiness. Pulling out his wand, Harry led the way upstairs. They walked out into the night and saw Nat, Crabbe, and Goyle standing in the centre of the tower. All three of them were watching Draco who stood at the far edge of the tower top, leaning on the ramparts. Hermione coughed politely and Nat whirled around. His eyes met Hermione's and she briefly shook her head. Harry knew they had been trying together to stop the duel. Harry shoved the cloak into Ron's hands and walked steadily forward.

"Malfoy," he said clearly, stopping a few paces from Draco. "I am ready."

Draco turned slowly and the two opponents gazed into each other's eyes.

"As am I," came the reply. Draco's eyes flickered to Hermione, before resting again on Harry. "Have Granger call it."

Harry scanned Draco's face, trying to read his expression, but only met a blank wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione nod. Draco stepped forward, wand raised in salute. Worried that his wand would fall out of his sweaty grasp, Harry bowed. They straightened, raised their wands in position and waited for the call.

"Three," Hermione said quietly.

Harry gripped his wand tightly.

"Two."

He found himself wishing it were all over.

"One."

"Locomotor Mortis!"

Harry fell to the ground, his legs locked tightly together. He struggled to hold himself up with one arm and pointed his wand at Draco.

"Tarantallegra!"

Harry hurriedly muttered the counter curse to unlock his legs. He stood up, catching his breath as Draco calmed his own furiously dancing legs. Harry didn't want to be dishonourable, but he waited a moment too long.

"Relashio!"

Harry's robes caught on fire. As he stamped on the hem of his robes, he pointed his wand in Draco's direction.

"Conjunctiva!"

Harry heard a deep groan and, still not taking his eyes from his smouldering garments, he muttered Protego, and then sent a jet of water at his feet. Suddenly he heard a deep voice say Crucio. He looked up, instantly afraid. Crabbe, one hand over his pained face, was pointing his wand at Draco. The blonde screamed and fell to the floor. His screams, mingled with Hermione and Nat's, filled the air.

"No!" Ron yelled. "Crabbe, you idiot. Stop!"

Harry caught a glimpse of Draco's face, twisted and contorted with pain. Without thinking, Harry jumped at Crabbe. Ignoring his wand, he pummelled the other boy's back. Goyle ran over and knocked him off. Twisting out of Goyle's way, Harry aimed his wand at Crabbe.

"Stupefy!"

Crabbe fell to the ground and Draco stopped screaming. Harry ran over to where Draco lay, curled up on the ground. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron comforting Hermione and Goyle bending over Crabbe. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder and shook him gently.

"Draco," he whispered. "Draco!"

Draco didn't move. Nat came over and kneeled next to Harry, his face white. Draco groaned, his eyes closed, and folded himself closer into the fetal position. Harry gave a small sigh. At least he was somewhat conscious. Looking around, Harry saw that Goyle had revived Crabbe who was rubbing his eyes. Ron had his arms around Hermione, but they were both looking at Harry. Harry was about to speak when he heard footsteps. He jumped up, his eyes wide.

"Filch."

There was a mad rush for the stairs, Crabbe and Goyle in the lead. Harry was almost at the bottom when he realised he had left his cloak at the top of the tower. With a brief word to Ron, he ran back up the staircase. On the way up, he met Nat trying to pull a semi-conscious Draco down the stairs with him. He had Harry's cloak over his arm.

"Thanks," Harry muttered, taking the cloak.

"Wait," Nat panted, his eyes pained and pleading. "You've got to help me. He can't go on his own and I can't carry him. Please."

Harry paused for a fraction of a second, and then threw the cloak over the three of them. Grabbing Draco by his free arm, he helped Nat carry him down the stairs. At the base of the tower Harry turned them automatically towards the Gryffindor tower. Halfway down the hallway, Harry remembered that the two people he was with were Slytherin students. As he tried to figure out where to hide, he heard something that made his heart stop.

"We'll find them my dear," Filch crooned, presumably to Mrs. Norris. "They can't have gotten far yet."

Harry glanced at his companions. Draco was almost out cold and Nat's eyes were as wide as saucers, but he made no noise. Harry motioned for them to continue into the narrow hallway ahead of them. They turned into it but they had not taken two steps before the two professors Harry least wanted to see turned into the hallway from the other end: McGonagall and Myrmidian. Frantically, Harry looked around. They were trapped. He pushed the three of them up against the tapestry hanging to their right. With luck the professors would just pass them by. Harry put a finger to his lips, and Nat nodded.

"… should have a firm grip on curse work," McGonagall was saying.

"Perhaps," Myrmidian replied. "But Severus has warned me, and I have noticed as well, that he has no sense of the subtleties vital for a really excellent student of my subject. I hear he's quite unable to cope with the awareness for detail required for the art of making a superior potion."

Harry, glaring at the dancing trolls in the tapestry, knew immediately whom they were talking about. How many times had he heard Snape criticizing his lack of potion making skills? Determined not to give himself away with his indignation, Harry seethed silently.

"True, there is a slight lack of subtlety in him," McGonagall replied. "And a disregard for rules which may yet become a problem. Don't judge him too harshly until he has proven himself unsatisfactory."

The professors rounded a corner, but Harry knew they only had a moment to run and hide. He wished there was a room nearby where they could wait for Draco to wake up. As he was about to leave, he heard Nat hiss "Harry!" Turning, he was shocked to find that a highly polished door had appeared in the wall. Not waiting to consider what might be behind it, Harry pointed his wand at the handle and whispered Alohomora. The door swung open, and the three rushed inside. Harry immediately slammed the door shut and locked it.

Turning, he saw the room for the first time. It was almost the size of the Gryffindor boys' dormitory and equally well furnished. A few comfortable looking chairs were scattered around the room and to the right there was a wall cupboard over a sink. Nat was hauling Draco over to a long green couch that stood by one wall. Awed, Harry flung his cloak onto a chair and sat down.

"What's this room used for?" Nat asked innocently as he propped Draco's arms up on the couch.

"I don't think it's used for anything," Harry said quietly. "I've never seen it before and I've been through this corridor heaps of times."

"Well it's perfect for us to hide in," Nat said cheerfully. "Do you think we can look in the cupboard?"

Harry nodded, still slightly dazed. Nat walked over to the cupboard and opened it. Harry's view of the contents was blocked by the boy's red thatch of hair, but soon Nat turned around again. In his hands was a book entitled, Cures to Magical Ailments, Volume IV: Resuscitation. Behind the young Slytherin, Harry saw a shelf of books and another shelf holding what resembled Madam Pomfrey's store of healing draughts.

"This place is perfect," Nat squealed, his eyes wide.

"No," Harry stood up, his expression shifting into a frown. "This place is weird. It's as if someone knew exactly what we wanted. As if they knew everything that happened."

Harry paced slowly across the plush carpet. Nat watched him nervously, clutching the book against his chest. Since his dealings with a possessed diary, Harry had learned to distrust anything that could think for itself. Harry's mind whirled from idea to idea. Was this an extra room stocked by Madam Pomfrey in case the infirmary filled? Had students filled its shelves for just this situation? Had it perhaps been Dumbledore who, somehow aware of their predicament, had magically prepared a room for Draco's recuperation? And Harry had another question.

"Nat," he asked, pausing in his furious course across the room. "Why was Crabbe using crucio against Malf… Draco?"

"What?"

"The curse that made him scream."

"Oh, he didn't mean to," said Nat earnestly. "I didn't see it all very well, but I think when Draco made your robes burn and you tried to do something back to him…"

"Conjunctiva," Harry interrupted. "It hurts your eyes and makes it hard to see. Sorry, keep going."

"Well, that makes sense," Nat continued. "Because when you cast it you missed Draco and hit Crabbe. He started covering his eyes and flailing and cast the curse, but accidentally hit Draco instead of…" Nat trailed off.

"Instead of me."

"Yes," Nat paused uncomfortably. "What exactly is that curse?"

"It's one of the Unforgivable Curses. It's the most illegal sort of curse you can use because it makes you feel a pain that is stronger than anything else in the world."

"What are the others?" Nat asked, his eyes wide and curious.

"There are two more. Imperio makes people do anything you want, even hurt themselves. And the third one is Avada Kedavra. It's one of Voldemort's favourites," Harry added quietly. "He used it to kill my parents."

"And you," breathed Nat.

"Yes," said Harry bitterly. "He used it three times on me."

"And you survived… three times?"

"I did. Somebody else took the blow for me the third time," Harry swallowed painfully, hoping to end the conversation there.

Thankfully, a groan from Draco stopped their talking. Nat ran over to the couch and kneeled at his friend's side. Harry followed more slowly. Draco lay with his eyes clenched tightly and one hand grasping the pillow beneath his head. Nat, examining the book he had pulled off the shelf, gingerly placed two fingers on Draco's forehead and rubbed them in an even, circular motion. Draco relaxed slightly, though he kept his eyes closed. Looking for approval, Nat turned his eyes to Harry. Harry gave the boy a weak smile. Nat stopped his massage, and moved to sit in one of the chairs. As he sat, he fought to hide a yawn.

"You needn't stay up if you don't want to," Harry said kindly. "I'll stay here until he wakes up. Don't worry."

"I'm not tiaah," Nat yawned, proving himself wrong.

"Don't worry," Harry repeated. "Just relax."

"No," Nat insisted. "Let's talk. Tell me about the town Hogsmeade."

"Ah yes. I forgot you wouldn't be going next weekend."

"What's it like?"

"Well," Harry began. "It's a village really. It's cluster of small shops, some homes, and the Shrieking Shack."

"That's the place where that werewolf Lupin used to hide. I read about him in the Daily Prophet."

"Yes," Harry smiled. "He's my…"

Harry paused. What word could sum up his relationship with Remus. Godfather wasn't strictly accurate, but friend seemed too unrelated. Before he could find the words, Nat kept talking.

"Tell me about the shops."

"The shops are small, but interesting. The best one is Honeydukes. It sells all the sweets you could want. Close second is Zonko's, the joke shop. Oh it's nothing to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes up at Diagon Alley, but it can be described as rather dangerous. There's also a post office, a teashop, bookstore, clothing store, and basically anything else you might need on a weekend trip. There are two pubs, the Three Broomsticks and the Hog's Head. The Hog's Head is rather disreputable, but the Three Broomsticks is quite cosy. I'll bring you back a Butterbeer if you like."

But when Harry looked up, Nat was fast asleep. Harry smiled again, and settled himself in an armchair. He enjoyed talking to the young Slytherin for Nat was, as Hermione had said, sweet. Again, Harry wondered how Draco and Nat could be so compatible. From the years in which he'd known Draco, the other boy had always been stuck up, unforgiving, and unbelievably rude. What could have changed him? As he thought this, Harry knew the answer. The war had made Harry a different person, why should it not do the same to Draco? Especially with his father in Azkaban.

Harry jumped as Draco groaned again, breaking the silence of the room. Harry got up and went over to the couch where Draco lay curled up, his face a mask of intense pain. Remembering what Nat had done to make it better, Harry kneeled down and placed the first two fingers of each hand on Draco's temples. Gingerly, he began to lightly massage the pale boy's scalp. Draco's face quickly relaxed. Harry stopped the massage, but remained kneeling.

Harry gazed down at Draco's face, captivated by its ethereal quality. Draco's white face was slightly tinged with pink. His soft hair had come undone and had fallen in a shimmering mass on the arm of the couch. His lashes, surprisingly dark and long, lay on his cheeks. His jaw was slightly slack and his lips curled softly, reminding Harry of light petals. They certainly looked just as soft. Suddenly Harry was filled with the desire to find out. With an almost trancelike unawareness, he leaned forward. He could feel Draco's breath on his cheek… he could see Draco's eyelashes flutter as he breathed… Harry closed his eyes and gently touched his lips to Draco's.

Creak!

Harry jumped away from Draco, his face red, and looked quickly to the sound of the closing door. There, robed in his short, his tea cosy, and his many pairs of socks, stood Dobby the house elf. Still worried that Dobby had seen what he had been doing, Harry smiled weakly.

"Dobby. Uh… what are you doing here?"

Dobby made a little bow. "I is coming to find Harry Potter, sir. Harry Potter's Wheezy sent Dobby."

"I see," Harry replied, sinking into a chair. "But how did Ron know where we are?"

"He did not know sir," Dobby said, also sitting down. "Dobby knew that if Harry Potter was in trouble near here, he would be in the Room of Requirements."

"The what?" Nat, who had apparently woken up when Dobby had come in, was sitting forward eagerly.

"Room of Requirements," Dobby explained, nodding to Nat. "This room is equipped with whatever a person has need of, and appears when they pass the door. House elves use it."

"Wait a minute," Harry said, remembering a comment of Dumbledore's a few years ago. "I've heard of this room. Let's say, Dobby, that I needed to use the lavatory…"

Nat giggled childishly. "It would fill itself with chamber pots, wouldn't it?"

"Yes sir," Dobby affirmed, nodding his head sagely. "So I knew Harry Potter would have found it."

"Well thank you for coming Dobby," Harry said, pleased now that the room was something Dumbledore was aware of. "But I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to send Ron a message for me. Please tell him I can't come until Draco wakes up and can make his own way back to the Slytherin…"

"Oh no, Harry Potter sir," Dobby jumped up, puffing his chest proudly. "Dobby can take young master Malfoy sir. Dobby knows a way."

"How?" asked Nat. "Unless you have some sort of special apparation magic you can give us, we need a couple invisibility cloaks and a stretcher to get him back."

Dobby winked and tapped the side of his nose. He scampered over to the sink and hopped up to reach the cupboard. He opened the cupboard door and there, where there had been medicine books, were a pair of invisibility cloaks and what appeared to be a folded up stretcher. The house elf proudly levitated the objects off the shelf, and jumped down to the floor himself.

"The Room of Requirements will provide, sir."

"Dobby, that's ingenious," Harry exclaimed, grabbing the levitating stretcher and unfolding it. "Would you levitate it down to the Slytherin common room?"

"Of course sir."

"In that case I'll be going," Harry glanced over at Draco's prone form, blushing at the recent memory. "I'll just, uh… lift him up first, shall I?"

Without waiting for an answer, and well aware that Dobby could have done it magically, Harry strode over to the couch. He leaned over Draco once more, allowing his face to move close to the other pale one again, and slid one arm around Draco's back. Holding up his legs with the other arm, he picked Draco up and carried him slowly across the room. Careful to appear under more strain than he actually was, Harry allowed himself to marvel at the way Draco's head fit so perfectly into his shoulder. Regretfully Harry lowered his burden onto the stretcher and looked up. Dobby wore his usual smile and Nat appeared to be fiddling with one of the cloaks, so Harry was spared having to explain his action.

"Well, thanks Dobby," he said, putting on his own cloak and fastening it at the neck so only his head was visible. "I'll see you later Nat."

Harry pulled up his hood, and gingerly opened the door. The hall outside was empty so he stepped out. Before closing the door behind him, he looked back at Draco's sleeping body. Knowing he was invisible, he impulsively blew a kiss. Embarrassed of himself and sure his face was as red as Ron's hair, Harry hurried back towards the Gryffindor common room and bed.