To all my reviewers:

Anniacuru: I love you.

Jessica Collett: you took it well, I guess I'll have to think up a really bad cliff-hanger for you then… Wahahaha!!! *Sends Draco over with Cookies*

Sapphire: thanks for your review; I hope you enjoy this chapter! *Sends Draco with candy floss*

Luna Aelf Writer: yes, Voldemort is scary… but don't worry, he doesn't feature Too much in this fic, (Possibly) *sends Harry over with strawberry jam*

Sammi: yay, I inspired a rant! Don't worry; Draco the lovely will be fine, eventually… Wahahahaha!!!!!!!!!!! I glomp you for such a cute review!!! *Sends Draco over with vanilla sprinkles*

To all others, enjoy!

Key:

An/ Prophesy / important poetic line.

Draco thought

Harry thought

Stressed speech

Chapter 8

"Malfoy, Malfoy? Hello? Anyone there? Earth to Malfoy? D... Draco?" Harry was worried now; the lesson had ended ten minutes beforehand, yet Draco still stared at him. Trelawney was ecstatic; she was waiting jittery by Harry's side, ready to question Draco on what he had seen. Harry, on the other hand, had had enough. He broke the eye contact required to keep the spell up. Draco's eyes widened, he focused on Harry momentarily, and then collapsed into his arms with an anguished cry.

"The inner eye can be exhausting to those not used to its power" said Trelawney wistfully.

"I don't give a damn! What has happened to him?" yelled Harry, struggling to his feet holding an unconscious Draco.

"He has tired himself out. You see, he actually tried! You think you are so brilliant," Trelawney's voice became deeper, "He has seen death, more times than you, and survived. But the mask is chipping. Buy some Papier Maché to fix it." 

"What the Hell are you on, professor? We need help! I can't carry him down the stairs alone!"

"And that is why Portraits are the secret walkways of this school, Harry." Dumbledore's clear voice rang through the attic room. He had entered through a portrait of Morgana Le Fay which seemed to be on the same wall as the window viewing the quidditch pitch. "I generally keep them a Headmaster's privilege, but, I believe that they would be helpful to you in this juncture. I cannot join you, but when you get to the circular portrait room, choose the one of Connor the Confused. If I remember correctly, that portrait also hangs in the Infirmary. The passwords to all the portraits are the rooms that they lead to."

"Thank you, Professor"

"Don't mention it." He turned to Trelawney, who was in a faint state on the couch. "Now, Sybil, What is the matter?"

Harry left the room through the portrait, which had grinned seductively at him as he passed through. "I always did love a man who took charge!" mused Morgana.

Harry dragged the surprisingly light Draco to a well lit circular room. He searched for the correct portrait amidst the crowd of portraits talking to each other, and him. Finally, he found him. Connor was in a monk's habit. He had bright blue eyes and his red lips were formed into a sweet smile. He's only smiling because he doesn't know anything! Thought Harry bitterly. He was half-right; Connor had got on the wrong side of a bafflement charm a week before this portrait was painted. He was nice to talk to, and was very forth coming in his gossip of inter-school ghosts and teachers which he got from the staff room painting Maeve the malevolent. She had been cursed dumb by a previous headmaster, to avoid a scandal, but Dumbledore had taught all the portraits sign language so that she could communicate (unbeknownst to the other teachers, of course)

"Oh, hello Harry!" smiled Connor, "I haven't seen you here before, I see you a lot at the other end, but not here."

"Hi, can you get us through please?"

"Draco, is it? My, my, I hope he's alright. What is the password again?"

"The infirmary"

"Is it? I can't remember… oh well. I know you, and if anything goes wrong, I'll know who came through."

"Thanks, Connor." Harry struggled through to the narrow passageway and opened the portrait door on the other side.

"Oh, hello again! How are you today, Harry? My, my, what's wrong with Draco?" Harry was too tired to remind Connor when he knew that he would forget in a few minutes. He went to an empty bed and dropped Draco unceremoniously onto it and collapsed onto a chair. After a few minutes, he got up, and straightened Draco out and tucked him in. he looked turbulent.  Bad dreams, poor Dragon… Harry pulled his chair up to the bed, and fell asleep, stroking Draco's hand.