Harry Potter and the Shard of Magic.

By Wihstrum

Chapter sixteen: Keep Breathing

Draco rolled over to his back, careful not fall off the edge of his bed, groaning. His head hurt, his stomach was cramping, his sight was hazy and on top of that the whole room was spinning for bloody Merlin's sake. Draco Malfoy was officially suffering from the worst hangover in the history of the world, both wizard and muggle. He writhed, trying to sit up.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked; having given up on escaping 20 minutes ago. Hermione's charms were simply irreversible and knowing his bushy haired friend this one was combined with a time-spell, so they'd have to wait this one out.

Draco groaned again; narrowing his eyes. "Stop yelling…" he muttered "Need to go the bathroom…"

Wow, everything was incredibly wobbly today… Maybe if he could just ram his head against that brick wall over there, things would be much better.

Harry sniggered with all the volume of a thousand thunderstorms. "Well that'll certainly be something to remember… Draco Malfoy strolling out of his room, bonded and wearing only boxers… not to mention we woke up in the same bed together…"

"Grmmmmmff…" Draco squeezed his eyes shut. "Why aren't you suffering from your hangover?" It was not fair, if he were to suffer certainly Harry were to suffer more.

"I think I sobered again from the mere shock of waking up in your arms." Harry said, casting a glance at Draco, before adding "You were cuddling me…"

Draco raised his head -even though it took a lot more trouble than it should- and he even managed to raise his eyebrows mockingly "Then what was all that 'Feels good…' about? Hmm?"

The Slytherin didn't bother to hide a victorious smirk as Harry's cheeks reddened to a shade of deep scarlet red, one that would go nice with his Quidditch outfit.

"Thought so." Draco drawled, while trying to find a way to pick up his wand from the nightstand.

Harry observed the slate eyed youth with and amused smile on his face. Right now he was trying to pick his wand up from the nightstand with his teeth, cursing loudly while doing so as he was obviously failing in his attempts. Maybe it was a good time to tell Draco he could help him out with some simple wandless magic… nah, not yet, this was rather entertaining.

Holding his wand carefully between his teeth he tried muttering a charm which would release him from his bonds. After a few attempts a loud bang ensured, followed by a huge cloud of smoke. With a loud curse and thus opening his mouth, Draco's wand dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed.

Harry in meanwhile was watching with an utterly disturbing grin.

"What?" he uttered harshly, hoping the Gryffindor would quit gawking at him and started treating him with the proper respect he deserved.

The raven head chuckled and if Draco hadn't been so damn frustrated he'd have noticed how sinfully gorgeous the boy looked. Harry tried to suppress his sounds of amusement, thus making odd snorting sounds. "You know… I could help you with your headache…"

He burst out in laughter again as Draco's eyes widened unbelievingly "Are you saying you could have helped me all this time?" he growled, ready to strangle Harry one way or another, even if he had to do so with his legs.

"You didn't ask." Harry replied with an innocent smile.

Draco narrowed his eyes; actually that guy wouldn't have made that bad a Slytherin… "Well, help me already!" he commanded.

Harry arched an eyebrow, lips pouting. Oh this was so much fun. "You didn't say the magic word…"

Not caring about Malfoy dignity, but only wanting to get rid of his awful headache, he sneered "Damn you…" he narrowed his eyes and stared him right in the eye "Please. There, happy now?"

"Much better." Harry nodded approvingly, he beckoned Draco to get move closer to him. The blonde scooted over, crawling on his knees, sitting before him. "Closer." Harry muttered, not able to help the pink flush on his cheeks.

"Can't have enough of me, can you?" Draco smirked, lowering his voice huskily.

"Shut it." Harry rolled his eyes. "It's a simple form of wandless healing magic, so I need to touch you…"

"Yeah, I bet you would like that, wouldn't you…" he waggled his eyebrows, even though it didn't help his pounding headache.

Harry let out a sigh in annoyance. "Do you want me to help you or not?"

Grumbling Draco complied and shuffled closer to Harry, who was looking at him with a thoughtful expression. Deciding this was the closest he would get he raised his eyebrows, wordlessly asking what he was supposed to do now. And then suddenly Harry leaned over to him, giving Draco a rather frustrating breathing problem.

Harry closed his eyes as their foreheads touched. Okay, he was officially blushing now. Not to mention the other reactions his body was threatening, which he currently lacked the mental capacity to evaluate. Snape in a tutu, Snape in a tutu.
He opened his eyes again, almost dreading to meet Draco's gaze right on. He barely chocked back a whimper as their noses brushed, and tried to concentrate on the deep gray eyes of his former nemesis. His lips moved automatically, not really forming words of a spell. It was just something you knew, information stored deep within your soul, as Alex's explains it, that is.

Draco let out a contented sigh as the thick, buzzing and confusing headache was washed away by a clear and cool sensation. The pressure behind his eyes was lifted and his upset stomach calmed. He'd never ever had felt better like he did now.
He felt Harry's warm forehead retreating, and he sat up slowly, his stomach muscles rippling like the tide, leaving Draco blinking at him with an expression of genuine awe.

Sometime in the late afternoon…

Harry paced hence and forth before the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office. What was taking them so long? He couldn't believe this was happening so soon…
Right after the bonding spell wore off (during which Draco and he swore to get the three of them back for it) and after they got dressed again (both blushing and even Draco had refrained from saying anything), they'd went to seek out Dumbledore whom had given the Slytherin four hours to contemplate whether or not he was sure about this. He'd warned him that he'd be interrogated under influence of Veritaserum, thus forcing him to spill out his deepest feelings if asked for. Grudgingly Draco had accepted and so far he hadn't returned.
With a loud sigh Harry let himself slide down the stone walls and rested his chin upon his knees. There were so many things on his mind, his head felt like exploding… First off all, they weren't going back to Grimmauld place for Christmas… Alex had refused to go with them since Draco and Blaise were staying over for the holidays. Harry in turn, didn't really feel like leaving those three alone, especially since Draco's loyalty was being tested. And secondly, Finbar would be staying; his parents found it safer for him to stay under protection of Dumbledore, not to mention it would be his first transformation without Moony. And third off all; and deep down Harry knew this was the true reason, he dreaded to go back and be once again painfully confronted with the fact that Sirius wasn't going to be there for Christmas either.

Suddenly the stone statue moved again and Draco emerged from the hidden passage, his hands tucked into the pockets of his robe, head bowed and a deep frown on his sharp, albeit ashen, features, but more or less composed.

"Draco!" Harry exclaimed, getting rather clumsily up due to a sleeping foot. Not to mention his sore ass from sitting on the cold stone floor for over an hour.

The slate-eyed boy jumped at the sudden appearance and wheeled around "Dammit, you scared the crap out of me!" he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to force back the immense headache that was threatening to come up for the second time this day "You've been waiting here the whole time?"

Harry looked at the tips of his shoes "Yeah."

Draco arched an eyebrow "Why?"

"Why?" Harry asked incredulously "Because I've been worried as hell, that's why!"

"I can take care of myself." He snapped, couldn't the Gryffindor see he didn't really want any company right now?

Slowly Draco looked up and chanced to meet Harry's wide green eyes. A combination of desire, crushed hope, and confusion shimmered out at him before the raven head looked pointedly in the other way. He'd been sorely tempted to toss aside any sense of propriety whatsoever, and just haul the Gryffindor into his arms and kiss him until those lovely eyes held nothing but that wonderfully dazed look they'd had this morning. But he couldn't, he had to grit his teeth, even just for a little while longer. So instead he muttered "Don't mind me… I've never felt more confused like now… Hell, I just bid farewell to 16 years of being drilled into becoming a Death Eater and here I am now, doing exactly the opposite…"

"Doing the right thing." Harry corrected.

Draco's frown possibly deepened even more "Let's just hope so." He growled.

Next morning.

Draco stared at the letter in his hands, trying to convince himself that the addressee didn't really say 'Lucius Malfoy'. A weak feeling of despair gripped around his stomach as he opened the envelope with trembling fingers. He unfolded the parchment of paper that fell out and read what it said:

We'll be celebrating Christmas together this year. I'll come to collect you Sunday evening.

The piece of paper slid from his fingers, unforgotten. He knew. It was useless to burden himself with the question how exactly his father had managed to obtain this information only 12 hours after it had happened. More importantly: what now?

Late at night.

Draco slid out of the shadows he'd been standing in for over an hour, just waiting for a certain Gryffindor to pass by on his way up to his tower "Harry?" Draco queried softly, causing Harry to whirl around in surprise "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

"What's wrong?" Harry asked; eyes narrowing in suspicion as he noticed the exhausted expression on his face, even though he was trying to cover it up with sophisticated aloofness

"I…I have… something to tell you. I have to tell someone… I d-don't want her to be alone." He babbled. Okay, so far for sophisticated aloofness.

"What are you talking about?" He started to feel sick. You know that feeling, when no one has to explain, but you just feel that something is wrong? Something was really wrong here. So wrong that it made Harry's throat go dry.

"Alex. I don't want her to be alone and I certainly don't want her to come after me." His voice was hoarse and he dropped his gaze to the floor. "I have to go back. They want me home for Christmas."

That revelation came like a blow in the gut for Harry and he had to summon an enormous amount of control to keep his voice steady. "Are you insane? They're gonna kill you… you just joined the Light side!"

Draco kept his eyes anchored to the floor. "They're still my family Harry. Maybe it isn't all lost."

And yes, deep down in his heart he prayed that things weren't truly lost. A father would surely choose his son over the Dark Lord, no? And if not his father, what about his mom? He couldn't abandon her, even if she hadn't been the most perfect mother-figure to look up to. Draco Malfoy was never one for feeling. Ever since he was born he was forbidden to love. Taught not to have emotions. He never felt the motherly caresses after crying or scraping a knee…
He knew things couldn't possibly go back as they were before summer… It had been the brief absence of his father being imprisoned in Azkaban that had made him realize who he was, what he wanted and especially what he didn't want. He'd always wanted his father to appreciate him…
Being a Malfoy meant being the best, always. It meant being in control, always, and especially in control of your emotions. It meant being cold and emotionless. It meant being a pureblood. Being a Malfoy meant getting what you wanted and ironically it meant growing into a carbon copy of his father, Lucius Malfoy. And that… that was what Draco didn't want. Never would he lower himself to the likes of Voldemort. A real Malfoy didn't bow down to anyone. No one. Ever.

Harry shook his head unbelievingly "Oh? You call that a family? They will try to kill you! Is it because you're blonde or just plain retarded?"

Draco hissed, eyes narrowing dangerously to slits. How dare he? "Screw you Scarface! Don't ever talk about something you don't even know anything about!"

"Well if it wasn't for your daddies friends, I would still have parents, but unfortunately, they managed to slaughter them." Harry had nearly yelled out loud, but had remembered how late it was and had managed to quell the shout to a furious throaty growl.

For a moment they just stared at each other, and Draco hated the insecurity, hated not knowing what to say, or even if this was for real. He wanted to lash out, needed to make someone else feel smaller than he did. "You don't know anything about me Potter! You don't know who I am! And you certainly wouldn't understand. Why won't you just snap out of your pathetic hero-complex? It's not because you couldn't save Diggory and Black that you have to adopt me as your new object of pity."

Something snapped inside Harry. With one final roar of anger he launched himself at Draco, fist flying. The Slytherin gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, trying to hit him wherever he could. The blonde managed to dodge the first punches and kicks, until Harry hit him square on the eye. The impact of the blow was hard enough to send Draco toddling backwards against the wall. When he slumped down Harry's rage subsided and he snapped out of his fury. What was he doing?

He hurried over to him to help him. The latter, in meanwhile, was sitting against the wall, his face hidden beneath the strands of silver hair, breathing with sharp intakes of air. The raven haired boy crouched down before him, yet Draco didn't move. He slowly reached out to brush the silvery locks out of his face, but before the tips of his fingers made contact, the blonde slowly raised his head. His eye was swollen and his lip had a nasty cut to it.

"Go away."

Harry shook his head again, hands trying to find something to hold on to "Draco, I'm so sorry..."

"Go away Harry." He repeated with a deadly calm.

Harry felt his cheeks burning, skin tingling and his bruised body inwardly protesting at every flex of muscle. The blood slowly leaked out of Draco's lower lip and left a mocking red trial behind on its journey down until his white unbuttoned shirt absorbed it.

"GO AWAY!" he suddenly yelled.

Draco closed his eyes and awaited the parting footsteps of the Gryffindor.

Leave, its better this way.

Just when he was about to pry his eyes open (or rather his good eye) he felt a warm breath on his face and before he could realize what happened… Harry kissed him.

A soft questioning kiss, his lips wet, warm and shaking.

His eyes flew open. Harry's face was hovering only inch from his; he could still feel his warm breath. He was so close Draco could smell him, he smelled like a summer thunderstorm, fresh and wild. Free. Draco had always loved storms; he'd go out and stand under the raging elements until he was soaked and shivering. He looked deep into Harry's green eyes.

"You can't hide from me." And before Draco could retort Harry's lips came crashing down.

Jolts and sparkles of electricity surged through him and he found himself kissing back. His hands ended somewhere up in his unruly mess off ebony black hair while he tried to be as close as him as possible. The kiss was desperate and filled with longing and aching; sinfully wonderful and sensual.

Harry pulled back, gasping. That was enough to break Draco out of his trance.

NO!

He turned his head when Harry's lips searched his own once again. It ended somewhere on his cheek. With a last gathering of all the willpower he had left to fight his emotions, he threw Harry off and got up scrambling and tripping over his own feet. And he ran. He ran as fast as he could and as far away as he could get.

With a loud roar he kicked open the door to the dorm he only shared with Blaise, since most of the Slytherins had departed, as foreseen. If Draco had thought things couldn't have gotten any worse, he was proven wrong. Besides from being summoned back home, and Draco knew it wasn't just to chat and drink champagne… and not even to mention that Harry just kissed him, thus ensuring the whole situating to get even more complicated, here Alex was, sitting cross-legged on his bed, her eyes glazed over that spoke of the hours she spend there, waiting for his return. So she knew too, he hadn't been able to shield her. The letter was in her hands.

"Why didn't you tell me?" her voice was deceivingly flat, yet it caused the hairs in his neck to stand and his skin to prickle.

"None of your business." He hissed.

"You promised me!" she suddenly screamed, standing up on his bed, and looking more intimidating that he'd ever seen. "You promised never to leave me!"

"I didn't promise you anything! I never answered your question in the first place!" he retorted. Oh fabulous, not only Harry but now also Alex decided to give him a hard time. Well if this wonderful dream were to end, then he'd end it right now. For good.

She hopped down the bed, landing in front of him. "I thought we were friends…" her voice was trembling, fighting back the urge to pin him against the wall and keep him there, safe.

"Well, you thought wrong." He growled between gritted teeth "Out!" he pointed at the door, feeling as is he were to tore his own heart out of his chest. He knew he'd broken her hearth, and by doing so he'd also broken his. Draco knew she felt he was lying, he couldn't stop it, but he had been harsh enough to fend her off. And by these cruel means, she'd be safe.

Two days later.

Finbar's stomach heaved and he threw up all of his dinner. Whimpering, he hugged himself, fervently hoping a miracle would happen and he wouldn't have to change into a werewolf this night. He hadn't done this alone for four months, and not only that, he feared endangering his friends. If Remus were there, they had each other's soothing presence, but the DADA teacher had departed somewhere called Grimmauld Place, not that he blamed him.

"Finbar?" came Seamus's tentative call from outside the door "You okay?"

"Just peachy." He mumbled, resting his right temple against the cool stone wall. It took him a while to regain his breath and even longer to stop his stomach from turning. At long last he shuffled out of the bathroom, still clutching his belly.

The Irish youth rubbed his back consolingly, trying to lighten the pain "That bad ey?"

"I'll live." He said, yet his grin failed miserably. "Need some fresh air…"

Seamus gave him a last soft pat on his shoulder as Finbar opened the portrait hole. He started to wander aimlessly through the castle, the advice and consolations Remus had given him replaying themselves over and over again in his head.

He sighed and scuffed his way down a random corridor, eventually coming to a dead end then turning around and heading back out again. At long last he ended up somewhere familiar; a large, cavernous room, lit by torches, with ceiling so high it's barely visible. And it was completely deserted… save for one, lone figure:

Alex was sitting alone against the stone wall of the Entrance Hall; her face was uncharacteristically pulled into a harsh sneer, yet her once brilliant green eyes were completely void of any emotion, and the color had faded down to ashen gray.

"Hey." He murmured softly as he lowered himself down next to her.

The left corner of her mouth tugged up for the slightest moment "Hi."

"You okay?" he asked, although he doubted she'd come out for the truth.

She remained disturbingly silent for a moment and Finbar swore he could hear her heart hammer against her chest. Suddenly her shoulders heaved and her head slumped down in her hands "Fuck no." she choked.

He winched as emotions flooded out from her, like a tidal wave, clashing mercilessly with his own; she was angry. At herself. And thus he gathered her in his arms, pulling her into his lap. He rocked her gently back and forth, rubbing her back "It's not your fault." He just felt it, understood it, without having to ask.

"He's the only family I have left." she sobbed silently, even now she tried to suppress the need to vent out her emotions "It's my fault if he dies."

Not understanding a word from what she's saying he continued to caress her back, her tears soaking his shoulder.

"I love him."

Finbar squeezed his eyes shut; there was no time for self-pity. So what if she was in love with someone else? He was there for her now, a friend, so he managed to suppress the urge to go and find the bastard, eat him and claim her for himself. "I-I'm sure he loves you too…" he crooked, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

"He doesn't understand yet. He doesn't see."

Why did she continue to speak in riddles? Suddenly a kind of panic seized him and he let out a strangled cry as his insides squirmed most unpleasantly. "I-I have to go… AARH…" he tried to get up "Full m-moon." He managed, before letting out another sharp scream as he fell down onto hands and knees. The last sane realization was that he hadn't drunk his Wolfsbane potion. And then he lurched forward, his nails, no claws, scraping over the stone floor. His shoulders humped and he hissed between his gritted fangs. His jawbone lengthened, and fur crept all over his body, clothes slipping from his form. The werewolf let out a long, painful howl.

With a feral snarl it sniffed the air, seeking out his first pray. Up those stairs there. A Man. His claws slashed over the stone floor, and he prepared to leap on him. With not more then a few steps he inched in on the man standing there rooted to the spot. But then something large and white flung itself at the raging werewolf, and the clashing of the two large animals erupted in a huge fight, both rolling over the floor, biting and snapping. Claws dug into soft flesh and fur flew through the air. At long last the werewolf was pinned underneath an enormous white tiger, canine versus feline. He let out a furious growl, but it was suppressed by an overwhelming roar, effectively silencing the large werewolf. Very, very slowly the strong paws lessened pressure, allowing the werewolf to cower away into a corner.

Leaving the black werewolf to come to his senses, Alex licked her paw, her cat-like eyes never leaving the trembling silhouette in the corner. After a short while she was able to approach the forlorn creature; she started to purr and licked the large gash in his neck he'd received during their fight. At first the wolf flinched away, but the tiger insisted and nurtured the wound with the soft rasp of her tongue. She bowed her head to look him in the eye and saw that he was starting to gain more control over his cursed form; mind and spirit fighting to regain control over a body that wasn't really his.

With some nudging and prodding, she pushed him through double oak front doors, and outside. Making sure the large wolf was where she wanted him, she looked back at the figure still standing on the stairs. Snape, Wolfsbane potion in hand, jaw hanging open.

She heard the eerie howl of her friend waiting outside, so she turned and ran out into the night after him. To the Forbidden Forest.

With a start Draco sat straight up in his bed; he'd woken up after yet another nightmare. He was gasping for air, his heart was racing in his chest and the sheets were clinging to his sweat-soaked body. A shiver ran down Slytherin's spine as he heard a high and long howl. Wasn't there a rumor about werewolves living in the forbidden forest?
He allowed his head to roll to the left as he settled back down, bundling up in a protective position. He couldn't stop trembling and he vaguely realized he would never be able to warm up again if he let his heart freeze even more. But did he really care? It sure would make things much easier…
He sucked in his lower lip again, the metallic taste of the raw cut mingling with his saliva. Damn boy sure had gotten more powerful since last time they fought. He hugged his pillow and tried to breathe, and he tried to concentrate on the cool smoothness of his sheets, anything but the raven haired youth. But he couldn't forget his scent, nor had the way those green eyes looked at him during their kiss, the warmth of his breath tickling his cheeks, their foreheads pressed together…

He hadn't left his room during the past two days, knowing he'd not be strong enough to fight his emotions a second time. He'd already tried to call out for Alex again, but she'd shut herself off as completely as a solid brick wall. Not that he blamed her; he'd said the most awful things to her. And how he missed her… The stupidest things first; the way the freckles on her face moved as she scrunched up her nose, or how she and Blaise could argue over the most idiotic things, or her advice, even if he always pretended like he wasn't listening and most of all how she made him feel like he was part of something.

On the other side of the castle Harry rested his head against the high backed armchair in the common room. He hugged himself, trying to calm down the violent reactions surging through his body. Six years of hatred, constant fighting and trying to find out what could hurt the other most and 48 hours ago he'd lowered his lips unto his former arch-enemy. When did things start to change? Your only love springs from your only hate. Perhaps some sayings held truth after all… clasping his knees tighter to his chest, his brows slightly furrowed. He wanted closeness, and belonging, and he had that, really he did… but it wasn't given to him by the person he longed for most.

The day after.

Patiently Remus let the young man come to his senses. The feral look in his eyes was starting to die down, yet he still reacted rather harshly to sudden movements. Finbar had spent the entire night out in the freezing snow, roaming through the forest, Alex watching over him in her Animagus form. After the events from last night Snape had immediately warned the headmaster about there being a werewolf on the loose. Without Wolfsbane.

It brought back so many painful memories about his own experiences with being lycanthropic. It had been the first time for Finbar to undergo the transformation without Wolfsbane and it was thanks to Alex that he'd gotten off without too much injuries and broken bones. Alex herself was also present in the room, something the Gryffindor had requested, but she'd refrained from changing back into her human form. So, instead, a huge white tiger was dozing off in front of the fireplace, casting a red glow over the feline creature. The head was resting on her front paws and every now and then she crooked open an eye as if to gauge the expressions on their faces.

Finbar's face appeared to carry unbearable pain. And Remus knew it wasn't the lingering pain of his wounds that caused this, but something far more complex and delicate than that. Guilt.

"How are you feeling?" he asked him softly, yet it still was not silent enough as Finbar jumped up like a frightened child.

He looked around him, bewildered, until he saw the huge white tiger looking up at him from the ground. "I… I don't…" he tried, but no coherent words came out.

Remus studied every movement from his body carefully, from the rising and falling from his chest to the way his eyes darted across the room, always ending on the white tiger. Shortly after they'd asked him to come back, Firenze had met up with him, explaining that Finbar might have trouble with fully regaining sense as he was far more influenced by changes in emotion, spirit and mind.

"I can't stop feeling like I want to run." Finbar murmured softly, his black eyebrows pulled together, thinking very hard about finding the right words to describe. "I feel caged."

Remus nodded, urging him to go on.

"And…" for the first time he lifted his light blue eyes to meet Remus' "I feel angry… for letting it happen… If Alex hadn't stopped me, I might have killed someone…"

Remus sighed and smiled at him sadly. God, he knew how it felt… he knew. He stood up and crossed his room to the small kitchenette where he'd been warming up some hot cocoa. He poured two mugs, for him and Finbar, and put a bowl in front of the tiger, not really sure if she'd appreciate it. Alex started to purr and licked her whiskers before her large snout disappeared into the rather tiny bowl, spilling most of it on the ragged carpet.

"When I was five…" Remus began, tentatively reaching out to cradle the huge tiger on her head. "I was living with my parents in a small cottage, isolated from all other human contact… At first, my mom kept me inside, in my room. She'd kiss my forehead and tell me she loved me, before she locked me up. And the whole night she stayed there right outside the door, terrified, yet she didn't stop talking to me. She told me stories, sometimes out of my books, sometimes she made them up…"
Remus smiled wryly as Alex couldn't seem to suppress a purr and he vaguely remembered Sirius liked being scratched behind his ear when he was Padfoot. "But then I grew too big and I couldn't be kept inside any longer… So I had to go out. My parents locked all doors and windows and barricaded whatever they could. For a year it went quite well." He looked back to Finbar, the Gryffindor listening intently. "But then one morning I woke up, outside… and…" his voice hitched, even after all those years it was hard "And I found out I ate our dog…" he said bluntly, there was no gentle explanation for this.

Finbar's gaze dropped back to his hands. "I'm a vegetarian." He said dolefully.

Remus let out a small laugh, and waited for him to continue.

"My father is a unicorn herder, so my brother and I lived together in a large house on the countryside. Darragh, that's my younger brother, always wanted to follow up in my father's footsteps. And he was a natural, trust me, those magnificent creatures, even the fully grown ones, came to him like he was one of their own." Finbar's hands were trembling and his eyes were cold and angry. "I ate his favorite unicorn."

Remus was rendered speechless, at loss for words and the soft rumble from Alex's loud purring stopped. "It was not your fault…" he whispered and couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't been cursed to a half-life by drinking the silver and holy unicorn blood, but then again, Finbar was classified as half-human, so that would probably explain the complications in those delicate branches of magic. He already was cursed.

"But that doesn't make it any less cruel." Finbar said; the corner of his mouth pulled up into a sad smile.

"I know." Remus answered, nodding slightly.

Finbar met his questioning gaze. "Thanks."

Remus walked over to him and touched his shoulder. "Anytime."

Saturday Night.

Draco flew recklessly through the sky. The air was whipping his white cotton shirt, buttoned down halfway. The icy December night mercilessly froze his chest, which was gleaming with sweat.

And if he cared about the fact that even breathing became harder, he'd only have to fly down and put on the warm robe he'd discarded an hour ago.

But he simply didn't care. He threw the little tennis ball in a graceful arch away and he waited a dangerous amount of time before he put his broom into a steep dive and soared after it. He had only 10 meters to spare. He pushed even harder… 5 meters… 4 meters… he fingers brushed the little ball and he tackled it, before putting all his might in pulling up, the tips of his feet touching the grass. He threw his hands in the air and howled with delight.

He laughed. He laughed until his stomach hurt. He laughed until he was beginning to feel light in his head. He laughed until the tears streamed over his cheeks…

Only he wasn't laughing.

He didn't remember how he got down and when he'd laid down on his back into the grass of the pitch. He didn't really register that his lips were turning blue and breathing became a problem. Only one thing was on his mind. The next evening.

Well, seems like I was right after all. Friendship and love are illusions of the weak, twisting and deforming the mind. A shimmer upon the surface of a lake. Water running trough the fingers of a thirsty, sick man. A crystal goblet shattering onto a stone floor in millions of little sharp shards. It's the moment of truth in a lie. Love is weak. And I, Draco Malfoy, last and true heir of my bloodline, I am not weak. I won't bow down. To no one. Not even the Dark Lord. I'd rather die.

"Wish fulfilled." He answered his own last statement.

Merlin… I never thought I'd be so afraid. I never thought I could feel so lonely… Why…. Why do I care?

He unconsciously put a hand on his heart and felt its rapid beating against his chest.

Why am I crying?

He squeezed his eyes shut, a helpless gesture only causing the tears to leak down his face even more.

I am not weak. I am Draco Malfoy and I am not weak. His breath hitched and became ragged at the effort.

Eventually he opened his eyes, a little dazed and nearly had a heart attack when he saw a silhouette towering over him. It took him a while to realize that it was that of a man. He was tall and slender, yet obviously muscular. His presence had a radiating power.

The strange visitor crouched down at Draco's feet and their eyes collided. Blazing green met stormy gray.

His heart skipped a few beats but his voice was deceivingly cold and flat. "What are you doing here?"

Harry winced inwardly, but reminded himself to ignore the Slytherin's body language and voice, taught to endure pain and fear with a straight emotionless face.

"I could ask you the same thing, or do I need to remind you that it's quarter past two in the morning?"

"Your point being?"

Instead of answering his last question, he gazed down at him and stated "You look like you're freezing. Even your lips are blue."

I could warm them up for you… Arck! Heel boy! Heel!

Draco didn't answer, but simple glared as darkly as he could at Harry.

Harry studied the young man sprawled in the grass. His whole being radiated coldness and his face was pulled into an emotionless mask. He sighed deeply and the mere movement of his body allowed the moonlight to light Draco's face for a split second. Something twinkled on his cheek. He had been crying.

He noticed Harry staring at him rather intently and worse; he saw the shocked expression washing over his face when he noticed the chilly tear that marred his cheek. Before Harry could even react, he had jumped to his feet and made a dash for the exit, but didn't even get halfway. The Gryffindor had caught up with him in no time and was holding his wrist rather roughly. Draco snarled and swung his fist at Harry's face. He however, simply grabbed his fist and pulled him closer. He stumbled into him and was mercilessly confronted with Harry's deep gaze. The mere sight and feeling of the raven haired youth had him trembling. And Harry, of course, had sensed that.

"Why are you so afraid?"

"Why won't you just leave me be! This is none of your bloody business." He attempted to pull himself out of the Gryffindor's arms, failing miserably.

"This is my business!" Harry barked at him "I care for you Draco."

This rendered Draco numb. But the scowl returned just as quickly as it had left. "Why? Why would you care for me? I have nothing to offer you and I certainly don't need your pity!"

"Why do you have to such a stubborn git?" he growled.

He felt Harry's gaze locking with his eyes and with a hoarse voice he said "I'll die tomorrow. I never though I'd be frightened. But I am now, it means I'm weak."

"Caring about someone is no weakness."

"Why are you thinking that 'friendship' or 'love' –as you call it- are the cause of it?"

"Alex."

"My death might just keep her safe."

"And me? Will it keep me safe?"

"HA!" he spat tauntingly "What makes you so confident that I care about you?" he sneered at him with all the anger and venom he could master.

"Only one way to find out…"

He put a finger under Draco's chin and lifted his head so that he could gaze deep into his stormy, grey eyes. Very slowly he lowered his lips unto his and kissed him. The Slytherin stilled completely in Harry's arms, breath caught in his throat. He wouldn't, he couldn't…

But then Harry's lips moved to linger at the right corner of Draco's mouth, touching the patch of skin with the briefest of kisses while he nuzzled the blonde's cheek.

Draco finally snapped, all his barriers and defenses crumbled and he couldn't help himself relaxing into the kiss, waving his hands into Harry's hair once more. Their hearts beat in unison and he leaned into Harry's frame. The careful, soft kiss became a sloppy wet one; lips pressed together, breaths ragged, teeth clanking together.

When the Gryffindor pulled back slowly, it left him trembling and completely dazed. Draco could feel his lips trail a soft line from the tip of his nose to his forehead. He let out a contented sigh as Harry kissed his eyelids, before brushing them over the blondes once again and murmuring "I knew it."

Dawn.

Harry leaned his head back against Draco's shoulder whose arms were encircling him while he nuzzled the nape of Harry's neck. They were in the Quidditch changing rooms, Harry sitting in-between Draco's legs and the Slytherin in his turn leaning against the wall, his warm winter cloak keeping both of them warm.

"You should apologize to Alex…" Harry whispered softly, not really wanting to ruin the moment, but he knew he would have to force Draco into this, even if it resulted into another fight again. Because the whole week long, and especially tonight, he'd felt her constant insecurity, her constant feeling of failure. He'd even shed her tears one night, having a dream he knew didn't belong to him, and after waking with a loud startled gasp, he knew Alex was crying on the other side of castle.

Harry winched as Draco's teeth pinched his skin rather sharply, startled "I know…" he muttered grudgingly after a while.

"Kay…" Harry retorted, leaning into Draco's frame again, savoring his last moment alone with him.

He felt Draco stirring behind him, his vertebrae snapping back into place as he arched his back. "I need to pack…" he murmured in Harry's hair.

Harry nodded mutely. "So you're going back?" he asked, despite knowing the answer.

"Yes." Came the simple reply.

Harry nodded with a sigh and got up stumbling, his legs starting to tingle as blood flowed back into them. He turned and held out a hand to Draco, whom accepted it, pulling him to his feet.

Draco frowned in displease and tried to straighten his rumpled clothes, wringing around his body uncomfortably. Suddenly he looked up, looking straight into Harry's eyes and opening his mouth, wanting to say something, anything, to lighten the insecure tension between the two of them. But he snapped his mouth shut again as he didn't find words that could bring any comfort.

Harry smiled sadly and ran a hand through his hair. "I understand."

The Slytherin nodded, grateful, looking at him with a lopsided grin which suited him strangely well. And then, Draco reached up and stroked his thumb along the zig-zag of torn and healed-over flesh on Harry's forehead, sending pleasurable shivers down the Gryffindor's spine. He looked at Draco with wonderment; that had been the first good feeling to come from his scar.

Slytherin Common room.

Draco walked into the common room, perfectly composed, save for his smirk that had gone missing in the progress down to the dungeons. And save for his heart hammering violently against his chest. What was he supposed to do? He'd never really apologized to anyone.
Relief came over him as he saw Blaise sitting in one of the big leather sofas, gaze glued to a huge book lying open on his lap, yet his eyes didn't really move and a deep frown rumpled his forehead.

"Blaise… where is Alex?" he tried to ask as casually as possible.

The brown haired Slytherin lifted his eyes, glaring at Draco in a fashion that made his relief evaporate within a split second "Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you." he said simply, closing the book with a loud snap. "She finally told me what was wrong. I can't believe you said that."

Draco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and hex himself into oblivion. Here we go again. And this wasn't going to be simple. "Blaise, calm down. I'm here to apologize…"

Blaise snorted and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest. "Right."

Draco gritted his teeth, the effort not to snarl taking up an enormous amount of willpower. "You don't understand…"

"How the hell are we supposed to understand you if hide behind a mask of lies!" Blaise said in a cold reproaching tone.

"Because it's none of your goddamn business!" he snapped, fists trembling in frustration.

"It is our business Drake…" came a soft voice behind him.

Somehow, Alex had slipped in and was leaning against the dungeon wall, her face hidden in the shadows, blending perfectly with her surroundings, yet the surreal twinkle in her eyes betrayed her presence.

"Why?" he asked, starting to understand it had been a set-up, since Blaise started to smile faintly.

"Because…" Alex said, pushing herself off the wall and walking towards him. She stopped right in front of him, having to look up to meet his gaze. "You are our friend." And then she took his hand and placed hers over his, their palms pressed together.
She closed his hand and Draco felt a very light item resting in the hollow in his fist. "Merry Christmas Draco…"

Draco opened his hand, his throat dry. In his palm lay a black cord with a little crystal on it. He lifted the stone to the light and saw that the deep red changed to fiery scarlet as if set on flame as the candlelight shone through it.

"It's your birthstone…" Alex explained him "Aries right? Means that your birthstone is a Red Garnet."

He swallowed and nodded. That's right, he was born in April. A smile cocked the corner of his mouth as one graceful hand brushed some wayward strands way from her face. "Yeah… friends."

Entrance Hall.

Straightening his back and closing his eyes, Draco could only hope his courage would rival the Gryffindors. And then he strolled in the Entrance Hall with all the superiority he could muster, despite having the feeling his last hours were counting down. Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. He could hear Alex's soft footsteps echoing behind her and following further behind was Blaise.

Dumbledore had informed him that Lucius had arrived in Hogsmeade. He would be escorted to the station by carriage, and then home, to spend 'Christmas' with his family…

Draco, let his gaze sweep through the huge castle behind him one last time, until his eyes landed on Alex. He shot her a rare smile, which he found she deserved, and nodded at Blaise. Inwardly he flinched since he couldn't see Harry anywhere; he'd probably be too late by the time he'd get the news of his departure.

Another worry laden sigh and he started walking to the huge oak doors, dreading the time he were to spend out there. He didn't get far as Alex suddenly clamped on his right arm, a pleading look on her face.

Not bothering to use her mental voice she said "If you go out there… you won't come back…"

"Then so be it…" He said with a deceivingly flat voice. "I won't run and hide behind Dumbledore's back. I'm his son, and I'm sure he'll be reasonable enough to talk to. I'll be back before you know." Gently he pushed her off and continued his way up to the door.

"Draco!" Harry came running down the stairs, his hair still wet from a shower, plastered to his forehead and soaking the back of his unbuttoned shirt.

Draco's heart was pounding now, the blood rushing hotly through his system giving lie to the cool facade he presented.

Somewhere behind Harry followed most of the Gryffindors whom had stayed over for the holidays, as Hogwarts provided more safety with increasing Death Eater activity. Ron was looking rather bewildered, yet Finbar and Hermione smiling knowingly. For the first time Draco noticed Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Lupin standing somewhere off the side, observing the event.

"Draco…" Harry began, completely out of breath after running down seven floors, barefooted and hardly dressed. "Draco," he said again and took another step closer. Not finding any words that could describe what he wanted to say he reached out much like Draco had done this morning. It wasn't much of a touch –Harry's fingertips barely brushed against his cheek- but Draco felt it all the way down his toes.

Without further much consideration of their audience Draco leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. Twice. He didn't say anything but his eyes were conveying anything he couldn't say.

Pulling back completely he smiled, and over Harry's shoulder expecting to see sheer horror and disgust on the faces of Harry's housemates. But no such thing; on the contrary, Hermione looked smug. Then there was a thunk' as Ron hit the floor.

He refused any further distraction but couldn't repress the huge smirk at Weasley's fainting. Finally he walked up to Alex and pulled her into a hug, cradling her closely -even though rather stiffly and awkwardly- his head resting on top of hers. Very softly he murmured into her hair "Merry Christmas." And then he pushed something in her hand.

He stepped back, nodded again and turned to leave. With a dramatic push –he couldn't resist- the solid doors swung open and Draco disappeared into a rather violent snowstorm.

He was gone.

Alex opened her hand. In her palm was a very delicate bracelet made out of tiny shells and colorful wooden pearls.

Wooow wipes forehead here we go again, being me I feel like I totally screwed up this time… aaargh! This was so bloody hard to write! Hope you like it! Really do! So… click the damn purple button and review for the sake of my sanity (or what's left of that…)! REVIEW aaaahahahahah! Please?