Life, As Experienced Through Your Fingers

Gold-Snitcher

Chapter Nine: As It Comes

"Potter!" The shout startled Harry and, on instinct, he turned to find the source. He knew who he would see as soon as he turned, but the reaction was ingrained and he couldn't stop himself.

"What do you want, Peter?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice level. Even now he couldn't help feeling nervous whenever he saw Peter or any of Riddle's old friends, even if they were just passing in a hallway.

"Why, Potter," Peter asked, walking up to him with a smirk. "I think we both know exactly what I want ..."

"Harry!" Harry let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding as Draco hurried up to his side. The courtyard between the school and the residences was Peter's favourite place to ambush him. Harry had never been so relieved to see a friendly face; after a run-in with Snape and a difficult practice with Pereskew, Harry wasn't feeling quite himself. "You okay?" Draco asked once he had reached Harry's side. Harry didn't miss the narrowed eyes as his boyfriend glared at Peter.

"Yeah," Harry answered softly and was surprised when Peter started to drift off without even a parting jibe. He wondered if Draco had said something to Peter before that made the boy's attitude change, however slightly.

"What did he say? Did he do anything?" Draco asked protectively, once he had made certain Peter had left the path.

"Nothing. He didn't say a thing," Harry answered. When Draco continued to eye him suspiciously, Harry added, "Really, Draco, you showed up before anything happened. I'm fine." Harry flashed a reassuring smile and Draco nodded, obviously satisfied.

"How were classes?" Draco asked, changing the subject as they continued walking towards Hart House.

"Horrid," Harry answered. Draco pulled out his keys and opened the front door, holding it as Harry walked through. "I couldn't concentrate and I thoroughly butchered the Mozart I was practising. Pereskew was in a temper and I don't know what was happening. And then I ran across Snape on my way out of the lesson and he made a point of reminding me of every reason I had for giving-up piano and now I run into Peter. But it's fine now, because I've also run into you." They headed up the stairs and made it to their door.

"So, it's my responsibility to make everything right again?" Draco asked with a half-smile as he unlocked the door to their section. "I prescribe hot chocolate, some cookies and a good novel. If the patient is willing?"

"The patient is very willing," Harry said as he stumbled into the common room and barely made it to the sofa before tumbling off his feet. He landed on the cushions with a whumph and Draco divested himself of his heavy winter coat and gloves before turning to boil the water. "You can't possibly get comfortable if you're lying around in your bloody winter clothes. At least take your hat off," Draco pressed. Harry moaned and lazily dragged a hand up to his head where he snatched his hat off and lobbed it at Draco. "Well, no hot chocolate for you. I refuse to cater to cranky and unappreciative people." But Draco still handed the mug to Harry who reluctantly sat up to accept it.

"Thank-you," Harry murmured as he took a sip of the warm liquid, immediately feeling warm again. Draco proceeded to pry the mittens and coat off of Harry and then they settled onto the couch, curled against each other.

"Have you had any word from your mum?" Harry asked after they had finished their chocolate in comfortable silence.

"Nothing. So far it looks like Lucius won't support my staying here," Draco said, tucking his head on Harry's shoulder and smiling softly when Harry leaned his on top of Draco's.

"Scholarships?" Harry asked softly.

"Too late to apply for them. They've all been awarded at the beginning of the year." They sat in silence again, both trying to envision life without the other.

"Have you ever seen the film Shakespeare in Love?" Harry asked out of nowhere.

"Yes," Draco answered lazily, his eyes closed and he inhaled Harry's scent, a fresh smell of apples with a hint of something simply Harry underlying the spring scent.

"Well, it's like that. It'll work out. Somehow." Draco nodded and tried to pretend he didn't hear the desperate edge in Harry's voice.

"Go fish!" Blaise proclaimed, and Dean waled, smacking his hand on the deck of cards and scowling as he picked one up.

"I hate you and you're cheating!" Dean cried with a pout as he resorted his hand.

Blaise cackled and Harry shook his head. The section, minus Crabbe and Goyle, were spending their Saturday night playing cards. It was mid-January and the stress of building assignments was just setting in. The play was being presented at the end of the month and Draco, Dean and Ron rarely saw Blaise or Seamus or Harry because they were always involved in some practice or another.

"Cheating at Go Fish?" Draco said with a smirk.

"Queen!" Blaise shouted holding out a hand in wait for Harry's queen.

"Am not!" Harry replied and everyone paused for a moment in shock before laughing.

"Aw man!" Ron said with a broad grin as he clapped Harry on the back. "I've missed ya, mate!"

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's antics and smacked Blaise's hand away. "Skinny dip in the lake," Harry ordered, and winked at Blaise who winked back and snatched a card from the deck.

"Don't tempt me, Harry," Blaise retorted.

"Nothing he hasn't already done," Seamus muttered and everyone snickered.

"Ace," Harry asked, an expectant eyebrow quirked in Ron's direction.

"That I am," Ron said offhandedly, and then, when he noticed the game wasn't progressing, he looked up from his hand. "What?" he asked as he caught sight of Harry's look. "What, you want an ace?" he asked, looking a little stunned.

"That's what he asked for, Ron," Seamus muttered sardonically.

"How the hell - how do you know I have one? You're a bloody mind-reader!" Ron cried as he reluctantly removed his ace from his hand and passed it to Harry. Harry had to tug it to get it out of his best friend's grasp and he winked as Ron continued to mutter.

"My, my, Ron. So competitive, and it's just a simple game of go fish," Blaise said with a nasty smirk.

"Ten," Harry asked and Blaise slammed his cards face down on the table.

"God dammit, Harry!" he muttered, but when Harry simply grinned, Blaise removed two tens from his hand and flicked them over to the ebony haired teen. "And I get accused of cheating!"

"I'm not cheating," Harry defended. "I'm playing a game. I happen to be paying attention to what people are asking for and to the movement of cards."

"You're playing Go Fish strategically?" Dean asked, slightly dumfounded. "You never play poker this strategically."

Harry shrugged and promptly relieved Dean of a six. "Draco, two," Harry asked.

"Sorry, Harry. Have to ask you to fish on that one," Draco said with a wink. "Blaise, nine?"

"HA! You go fish! Drown in the lake! May you never have a day's luck with your - nope - stopping," Blaise said, and Harry, settling the card he had picked from the deck into his hand, looked at him with obvious amusement.

"What? May he never have a day's luck with what?" Neville prompted innocently. Blaise shook his head.

"You were about to say 'may he never have a day's luck with his rod', weren't you, Blaise?" Harry asked with mock seriousness. Everyone snickered as Blaise turned a bit pink and nodded.

"I meant his fishing rod - because he had to fish - you know, because we're playing, go fish ..."

"Careful, Blaise, I don't think Harry would appreciate that," Seamus prompted, and it was Harry's turn to go bright pink and shift uncomfortably. Draco smirked a bit and threw an arm around his boyfriend's shoulders.

Draco was completely surprised when Harry looked up and, in a completely serious expression, said, "You're absolutely right, I wouldn't appreciate it at all. You have no idea just how much I like to go fishing."

"Do you mean that as a sexual reference or are you talking about the actual sport?" Dean asked as Seamus snickered.

"Please! I have no wish to discuss rods of any nature, whether they be required for sport or ... sport," Ron said, and winked at Harry who was still quite pink. "Now, Dean, do you have a five?"

"It's not your turn!" Seamus cried.

"Well, it's my turn by default because everyone else was too preoccupied with Draco's rod to make a demand so I've taken the liberty of getting the game moving again!" Ron defended.

"I really don't understand how all our games always end-up so bawdy," Neville asked rhetorically, Harry nodded in agreement until he was elbowed in the side by Draco.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"You participated in that last exchange, if I recall." In truth, Draco was ecstatic at the change, just before Christmas Harry would have likely excused himself until the conversation had settled on a safer subject, he also would have been uncomfortable with Draco's arm, which was still stubbornly situated on his shoulders, and which had also pulled Harry quite close to his boyfriend. The fact that neither of these reactions had happened had Draco inwardly jumping for joy.

"Well," Harry offered quietly, shrugging nonchalantly. "Nobody's perfect."

"Draco?" Sirius said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk," Draco said as Sirius nodded and ushered him into the room, shutting the door behind him. Sirius' office was chaotic and bright and stuffed with art pieces.

"Is Harry okay?" Sirius asked a bit nervously as he sat down in one of the leather chairs opposite Draco.

"Yeah, yeah, he's fine. I just ... there's a lot I've been thinking about and I didn't really know who to speak to." Now that he thought about it, Draco wondered if this were such a bright idea. He had grown close to Harry's uncle, and he trusted the man. There was also the fact that Draco really had no one else to turn to. He didn't want to pressure Harry, and he didn't think anyone else would really understand.

"I understand," Sirius said, and smiled in such a way that Draco believed the man really did. "Go ahead, what's on your mind?"

"It's looking like I have to leave," Draco began quietly. "I'm waiting for word from my mother but ... I don't know what to do."

"What's your main worry?" Sirius asked, when it seemed Draco wouldn't go on.

"Harry," Draco answered, and Sirius wanted to smile. He had been happy that his nephew had found someone, but he had been ecstatic that the person Harry had ended up with had been so understanding and supportive. When Harry had spoken to him after New Years about Draco's situation, Sirius had been greatly frustrated. Harry had been through two rough years back-to-back, and now this. He had offered to support Draco for the rest of the year, but Harry had said that wouldn't be right. He knew Draco and had said that it would only make him feel awkward. Sirius could understand that, but he was still frustrated that, just when things were settling down, this happened.

"What about him?" Sirius prompted.

"There's so much. For one, long distance relationships never work. I mean, I know Ron and Hermione have been making do, but, the dynamic between Harry and I ... it can't be reduced to paper and pen. It won't work."

"You're worried that Harry will get frustrated and break it off?" When Draco was silent, Sirius sighed. "You know, I heard someone describe violinists once and the quote has always stuck with me. It goes like this: The violinist is that peculiarly human phenomenon distilled to a rare potency - half tiger, half poet (1). Draco, you'd be surprised how resilient Harry is. You see the poet in him - but you're missing the tiger. He's determined. When he makes a decision to do something, he does it," Sirius said, trying to convince the blond boy. There was so much he wanted to impart. So many things that he had seen Harry do that would more than convince Draco that Harry was for real, and yet Sirius wondered if that would be okay. He hadn't known Draco all that long, even though there was something in the way the boy interacted with Harry that made it seem as if he had always been a part of his nephew's life and always would be.

So Sirius settled on drawing a breath and speaking honestly. "At the start of the year, I was really worried for him. He told me that you know about Riddle?" When Draco nodded Sirius had to stop a snarl. "He was a fucking piece of work and deserves what he got. But even with him out of the school and secure in prison, Harry had - changed. He was always so open with his thoughts, and he was so tactile, but all of that changed. I don't really know how to explain it," Sirius said but was cut-off when Draco nodded.

"You don't have to. I've noticed," Draco murmured, feeling a flash of anger towards Riddle and Peter and their stupid friends that had put Harry through so much.

"I was trying to think of the best thing to do for him. I was almost ready to get someone he could talk to but - lately, I've been noticing things. He's eased up a lot, and some of his confidence is back. Now, I'm telling you this because I know you love him, and I also know that he loves you and I fully believe you owe it to each other to honour that and not let that go because you're worried about what may, or may not happen. Don't make decisions because you're worried about the future, take everything as it comes and make your decisions as the problems present themselves."

Draco nodded and immediately felt a wave of relief washing through him. He knew his panic regarding his relationship with Harry was unfounded, but that wasn't exactly going to stop it.

It was hard for him to believe that he had changed so much, starting from that moment when he had climbed the steps and dropped his bag on the cold floors of the entranceway to what was to be his new school. From the defensive and bitter boy he had once been to this - and Draco wasn't entirely sure what THIS was.

"Draco," Sirius said, cutting off Draco's thoughts. "It'll work out. Where there's a will, there's a way."

"Come on, Potter, don't be like that," Peter pouted and snaked out a hand, clasping the strap of Harry's school bag and effectively halting his movement.

"Sod off, Peter, I don't have time for this," Harry snarled and wrenched his bag out of Peter's grasp. Quickly he started walking again hoping to get to one of the more crowded halls. He mentally noted that he would have to find another route from English to Drama that would take him through a more crowded hall.

"Now listen, Potter," Peter bit out, grabbing Harry by the shoulder and shoving Harry hard, slamming him against the wall where Peter proceeded to pin him. "You don't have your little boyfriend here to save you and we have unfinished business." A shiver ran through Harry and before he could react to Peter, who was running a hand across his cheek and down his neck, Harry started remembering all the other times, with Riddle, when, no matter how he had fought, he had been unable to defend himself.

He was helpless, just like then. He was easy prey.

"That's it, Potter, you know you like it," Peter whispered insidiously, and Harry felt ill. Felt as if he were going to vomit right then and he wished fervently that someone would come, but by now everyone had reached class, and Sirius wasn't on alert anymore because Riddle was gone. He was supposed to be safe.

Fucking bastards. Why the hell did they pick him? What had he ever done to attract their attention? What kind of a sick twist went around their own school molesting their fellow students? And just why the hell wasn't Harry fighting back? What had happened to his instincts? He had always fought before.

But what was the point? It never got him anywhere and it only made them more determined.

Even a dying rabbit struggles. He wasn't all that weak, he'd fought Riddle off, hadn't he? Yes. Of course he had. And look what happened to him. Jail. Harry had fought and he had won. So what the hell was he doing now?

"That's it," Peter crooned when Harry remained motionless. Feeling brazen, Peter nuzzled Harry's chin and then, carefully, pressed his lips against the smaller boy's.

Perhaps Peter had been distracted because of the kiss. Perhaps he was enthralled in the intoxicating warmth of Harry's warm lips that sent a frisson of sparks through his body, or maybe he was gloating at being able to kiss the most attractive and sought-after boy in the whole of the school. Whatever it was that distracted Peter, it allowed Harry to jerk his knee up between Peter's legs, and then, when the boy dropped in shock and pain to the floor, Harry's right hand fisted and shot out, striking Peter on the side of the face. Hard.

And then Harry ran, full-out, to Sirius' classroom.

"Fuck me!" Seamus cried as the group was on their way to dinner. "Did you see Peter's face?" Draco frowned and turned to look back. The left side of Peter McLain's face was a very deep purple with a tinge of greeny/blue to it. It was really quite a sight.

"Wonder what the hell he got himself into?" Blaise asked offhandedly, then, noticing that Harry had turned faintly pink, Blaise clapped a hand on his back. "Now see that? That's called cosmic retribution. And there's likely more wherever that came from." Harry tried to smile but was faintly uncomfortable, since he had told no one aside from Sirius and the headmaster about what had happened. He would have to tell Draco, but he didn't want his boyfriend getting into trouble.

"Yeah, that's it, Blaise. Cosmic retribution. And may he never have a day's luck with his rod," Seamus teased, and Harry managed a laugh at that, promising himself that he would tell Draco after dinner.

"What is it, Harry?" Draco asked when Harry tugged him into his bedroom and shut the door.

"Draco?" Harry asked cautiously, patting a spot on the bed beside him. "I need to tell you something, but first I need to say that I'm okay and that I really don't want you to get upset, alright?" When Draco simply looked at him cautiously and made no move toward the spot on the bed, Harry licked his lips nervously and pressed him, "You have to promise me you won't get mad."

After a moment, Draco nodded and sat on the bed. "I promise."

"Well," Harry licked his lips again and tried to smile. "You know how Seamus was wondering how Peter got the shiner?" Draco nodded. "I met him, on the way to class today and we - talked -" Harry said, watching Draco's reaction closely.

"You talked," Draco said disbelievingly.

"Yes - well - there were words exchanged," Harry edged out.

"Am I to assume you hit him?" Draco asked, feeling rather satisfied that it had been Harry to put that rather wonderful mark on that bastard's face. An odd sense of pride filled him, but still, he was worried about the rest of the interaction. Harry wasn't usually violent.

Harry nodded in answer to his question and Draco sighed. "May I asked but compelled you to punch him that hard?"

"I also kneed him pretty good," Harry admitted sheepishly, and Draco had to stop a laugh. "I did it because - he kissed me," Harry said and watched as Draco's eyes slowly widened.

"He kissed you?" Draco asked, stunned and angry. He'd spoken to Peter, and made it quite clear of the consequences. Was the boy so stupid? What was it, anyway? Why was he so determined to hurt Harry?

"I didn't want to," Harry said anxiously, misinterpreting Draco's obvious anger. "He caught me on the way to class and there was no one there and he pinned me against the wall and I panicked and I froze and I'm so so sorry but I " Harry stopped when Draco's hands cupped his face.

"Shh, I'm not mad at you. How could you think I'd be mad at you?" Harry let out a breath of relief and smiled when Draco pulled him close. "Are you sure you're okay?" Draco asked after a moment.

"I'm certain - well, my hand's a bit sore," Harry admitted. Draco examined Harry's hand but beside from the knuckles being obviously tender there was nothing wrong.

"That must have been one hell of a punch," Draco said after a moment.

"I'm rather proud of it," Harry murmured.

"It's like that with music, as well," Harry said, settling back into the sofa and frowning. Blaise shook his head and rolled his eyes, a movement which Draco noticed and smirked at. Pansy Parkinson simply nodded eagerly, encouraging Harry to continue. "Well, with writers, you were saying that there's this ... I dunno, this responsibility and this curiosity to create a world that's entirely your own creation. You can do anything, really. That's an awful lot of power," Harry added, and cocked his head to the side, unconsciously leaning into the arm which Draco had propped on the back of the sofa.

"Well, it's just," Harry continued, trying to organize his thoughts. "You said writers are essentially exploring the world in it's entirety but really, it's human nature, because that's really what shapes the world the most. You make characters say things and do things and you are trying to figure out what makes that character work, but in essence, every character is a part of you, as the writer, because that character was created by you." Harry frowned and ran that statement over in his head. Was he making sense? He hoped so.

"Yes, but there are no characters in music," Pansy said. Blaise had dragged her up to his res to meet his friends. She had been incredibly reluctant at first, but had soon realized that Blaise's friends were extraordinary. Though most had retreated and gone their separate ways when she and Harry had fallen into a discussion about the various arts and the philosophy behind them.

"No, there are no characters, really," Harry agreed. "But music isn't really about creating universe's and exploring character's and motivation and such and such. It's about emotion. So musicians are really doing the same thing as writers but they use emotions as a tool to understanding human nature. Either way, in both cases, the musician and the writer are as much a part of the process of understanding as the music or the words. It's their own reactions that reveal just as much as the sounds or the actions of the characters."

Everyone sat and let that settle in. The discussion had begun as a random question about philosophy, which had turned into a debate about philosophers and whether or not some of them were not just the slightest bit batty and then, out of nowhere, it had turned into this. Blaise had found it all amusing and, just for a lark, tossed out another question. "What about acting, then?"

"Well," Pansy ventured. "It's the same, isn't it?"

"How so?" Blaise prompted. "You aren't really creating anything as an actor."

"But you are," Pansy disagreed. "It's like what Harry said, musicians explore emotions. Actors create a character, using emotions and all that. Really, actors are a bridge between the writer and the musician. They're a combination of the two. It's really just in the way your head works and how you understand things. Then you can tell whether you're a writer or an actor or a musician or an artist."

"What does it mean if you're all of the above?" Draco asked, and Harry snorted softly.

"I dunno, you're either very confused, very talented, or partially insane," Pansy tossed out, knowing who Draco was alluding to. Draco snickered and Harry turned an interesting shade of pink. "But really?" Pansy ventured. "Really, I think it's just that you'd be very open. I mean, you can understand on so many levels. People call that artistic in a broad sense, you know, but it's all about understanding, really."

"So does this mean that Crabbe and Goyle should actually be respected because, even though they cannot play at all, they're still trying to understand human nature through a different medium?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Draco offered. "Could you respect Crabbe and Goyle for playing the way they do? Me, I just think they're a bit sadistic."

"Please, don't ever refer to Crabbe or Goyle in any way that could result in envisioning them in a sexual situation," Blaise pleaded, turning slightly green. This was greeted by laughter, and Pansy rolled her eyes and shook her head in dismay. She had not had the misfortune of hearing either Crabbe or Goyle play but from how Blaise had described it, she was hoping she would be able to keep it that way.

The photograph, Draco noted, was exquisite.

Sirius had captured The Kiss; that brilliant, heart-wrenching, breath-stealing, shiver-inducing kiss that he and Harry had shared as the clock struck twelve.

The photo featured Draco and Harry at it's centre, crowds of revellers blurred in the background. Both of them had their eyes closed. Harry's left hand, which grasped his champagne glass loosely, was stuck out to the side while his right arm was clutching the nape of Draco's neck, tugging him closer. Draco's arms were both wrapped around Harry, his champagne glass tilted precariously to one side as it was braced against the small of Harry's back.

Harry was just slightly on his toes.

Draco closed his eyes as he remembered that night. He had been a tangle of mixed emotions. On the one hand, he was happy to be back and be with Harry, but he also knew this was probably all temporary. Everything now rested on a decision his father was unlikely to make. Draco had doubted everything as he had sat, waiting for Harry. He even wondered if Harry would be angry with him for having to leave, or if they would break-up because of it.

Somehow when Harry had stumbled into the common room, Draco's dark thoughts had been expelled, though the worries still lurked in him. Yet none of those worries were founded. Harry, though upset at the idea of being apart, had pointed out that they would make do, that Hermione and Ron were managing and that they could as well. Draco hadn't been as certain. Hermione and Ron had begun their relationship with the distance in place. Letters had been all they had had, except for the short, spontaneous visits when Hermione had surprised Ron, like at the concert.

Yet he and Harry had begun close. They had both grown accustomed to the other's company. Draco wondered if letters would be able to come anywhere near what they needed from each other. Somehow Draco didn't think it would be enough, but he was determined to try. He refused to lose Harry because of his parent's decisions.

And then, to top-off the shock of being back with his boyfriend, and the emotional roller coaster that their ensuing discussion had been, there had been that kiss.

Grinning to himself he looked back at the picture. They were standing on an angle, part of Harry's back to the camera, but the kiss was still visible, and Draco was pleased to note that it did not look sloppy or tentative. It certainly had not felt like either.

His mind turned back to the Christmas break and how difficult it had been to be away from Harry. He really didn't know how they would survive the separation.

With a sigh, Draco rose from the sofa and fixed himself a cup of cocoa before returning to his thoughts.

"Hey, Draco," Blaise called just as Draco was about to make the trek back to the main building. It was after dinner and time for his usual practice session. Draco had noticed that, more often than not, his practice sessions involved more glowering at the keyboard than playing of notes.

"What is it?" Draco asked when he noticed Blaise looking around the common room to make sure that everyone who was actually in the section had their doors closed.

"I know that your parents are getting divorced and I just wanted to say that - if you ever need to talk, I'm here. My parents decided to split over the break as well and, though it wasn't as if I didn't see it coming, I just thoughts that - well, there are some things that are difficult to explain to someone who hasn't gone through the same thing, you know?"

"Yeah," Draco said, then smiled. "Thanks, Blaise. It means a lot. And - same here, if you need to talk -"

"Absolutely. Anyway, I should probably get back to work. Can you believe we're rewriting a scene so close to the performance date? It's insanity. The most disorganized production of my life!" Draco laughed and shook his head as Blaise tugged at his hair and, with a dramatic sigh, returned to his room. Draco pulled his coat closed and left the common room.

"He's been expelled?" Dean asked excitedly as he dropped into his seat at the lunch table.

"Who has?" Harry asked as he took a sample of his vegetable soup to test the level of heat.

"McLain," Blaise answered with a grin and a wink. Harry nearly spat out his soup. He turned his shocked expression towards Draco who had arrived with Ron. "See Harry," Blaise said, recalling Harry's attention. "Cosmic retribution. It's what I was explaining to you."

"What's this?" Ron asked.

"McLain's got himself expelled," Neville paraphrased.

"Did you know about this?" Harry whispered to Draco who looked at him blandly and shrugged. "Draco," Harry pressed, feeling stunned. "What did you do?" Draco grinned and, before Harry could say anything, pulled him over and kissed his temple lightly.

"Nothing much, now hurry up, we've English next and you know how professor Tillingson gets when we're late." Harry stared at his boyfriend a moment and then, shaking his head in dismay, returned to his soup.

"You should be sleeping," Draco whispered, causing Harry to start from where he was sitting on the sill.

Harry turned his head away from the window and smiled sheepishly at Draco. "I couldn't sleep," he explained. Draco stepped over to him and raised a hand to run through the chaotic mass of black hair as they looked out the window. The moonlight was lighting the trees of the forest and a very light dusting of snow was falling, clinging stubbornly to the bare branches. It was such a peaceful night, it seemed, for a moment, as if they were the only two people in existence.

"Harry? Play for me?" Draco asked and Harry turned around to look at him. Draco's hand stilled in the dark tresses and he returned the gaze.

"Okay," Harry said after a moment and smiled.

"Now?" Draco pushed.

"Draco, it's three o'clock in the morning."

"Please?" He wasn't sure what he was expecting, he was simply acting on instinct. Draco wanted to hear Harry play, there was something settling about it, something calming and invigorating and Draco needed that. He remembered the conversation he had had with Sirius and he knew that it was true, right now, this was what he needed.

So Draco had asked, but it had been a wistful request, he wasn't expecting Harry to smile mischievously at him and slip off the window sill. "I'll be right back," Harry whispered. "You might want to put on some clothes," he added as he disappeared down the hall to his room.

Feeling exciting and slightly stunned, Draco pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper, grabbing his coat and gloves from where he had draped them on his chair and returned to the common room where Harry was waiting, violin case in hand, grin in place. With a tilt of his head, Harry gestured that they should go and Draco nodded, slipping out the door and creeping down the stairs.

It was exhilarating, though Draco had done things like this before in his other schools. The difference was in those schools the headmasters were terrified of what his father would do to them if they tried to punish him, which sort of took the fun out of his late night adventures. Now, though, he didn't have his father's clout to back him up.

Outside, the wind was blowing the snow around and he had to walk quickly to keep up with Harry. "I can't believe I suggested this," Draco murmured as Harry led them off the path towards a wall of the school that was covered by thick tangling vines.

"Yes, you're a terrible influence," Harry scolded, brushing aside some of the vines to reveal a handle.

"Where the hell does that go and, more importantly, how the hell did you know it was there?" Draco asked surprised, Harry winked and opened the door, holding it open for Draco to slip through before following.

"Tricks of the trade. I told you I knew passageways. This is the result of an entire summer left to my own devices while Sirius set-up lesson plans." They walked through the dark passageway before popping out through another small door that was covered by a tapestry of a few minstrels serenading a young woman. "This way," Harry said, leading them through the open hallway before darting into a room and shutting the door quietly.

"What is this place?" Draco asked, looking around at the small room which was entirely black. The walls were covered in a soft fabric and the floors were coated by a black rug. He and Harry were standing on a relatively large step just inside the door. Before them were large steps that led to a small level, semi-stage at the bottom of the stairs.

"As far as I could make out, it used to be an old drama room for after school use. The imrpov group sometimes uses it but otherwise, it's a perfectly quiet room that is adequately insulated which mean," Harry said with an impish grin. "No sound gets in and no sound gets out."

Draco grinned and then quirked an eyebrow. "Well, do I have to wait all day? I thought you were going to play something?" Harry rolled his eyes and walked down the steps to stand on the stage. He opened his violin case and took out his violin. Draco had learned that this violin, a Masters' which Sirius had given Harry as a gift when it had been necessary to get a replacement because of Riddle's little 'message', was called Komm Susser Tod. Harry had named it himself, though there were few who knew the violin's full name, most just thought it was Susser, Sweet, which was Harry's nickname for it. Harry had shaken his head when he explained this and said "you know you're a lost cause when your instrument starts taking on the characteristics of a loved pet. Mine has a bloody nickname ..."

"What do you want to hear?" Harry asked and Draco shrugged.

"Play the Vivaldi's 6th," Draco requested, he was desperately in need of good memories to block-out his nightmares. Harry grinned and nodded.

As soon as Harry began to play, Draco had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to ward off the shivers that were running through him. There was something in the confident notes, in the light and quick melody. When Draco's breathing had calmed back down he opened his eyes and smiled as he watched Harry's fingers dance.

This had been exactly what he had needed. He needed the light music, the reminder of that perfect moment when Draco had stumbled into Harry's private practice only to be hit with the dazzling realization that he was in love. He needed to see Harry in the relaxed glory, fingers dancing over the fingerboard. And it didn't matter that all of this was finite, that he was probably leaving in two weeks. It didn't matter that his dreams were dark and brooding or that he had just gotten someone expelled in order to protect the only thing that really mattered to him. It didn't matter that at any moment someone could burst into the room and slap both him and Harry with detentions. None of it mattered because right then, everything was perfect, perfect, perfect.

"Nev, I thought you were supposed to be at piano? What are you doing back?" Draco asked when Neville came running into the common room after lunch looking frantic.

"My nails," Neville explained. "Snape thinks they've grown too long. He sent me back to clip or else he said he'd do it for me." Draco nodded in sympathy as the dark haired boy raced into his room, and then, a moment later, came back and settled onto the couch with a pair of clippers, snapping his nails off quickly and glancing at the clock frantically.

"Don't rush, Neville, or you'll cut passed the quick and your fingers will be sore for ages," Draco advised. He'd done that before and it had hurt something fierce. Of course, he had still been forced to endure his lesson, and then to practice. Sometimes it was difficult to remember why he bothered, but then, of course, he would sit down and play and everything would fall into place. Like last night as he had listened to Harry. He could still hear the music in his head and for the first time since his mother had told him that he would likely be leaving, Draco believed that maybe everything would work out, because, really, Draco couldn't picture leaving everything he had found.

Dear Draco,

I have given some thought to your education and have come to a conclusion. Your mother has mentioned that she is unable to support your continued education at your current school. I am sure you are aware of the settlement which your mother and I have come to, but she feels that it does not provide her with the resources to maintain your current position there. I have come to the conclusion that it would be simper for you to remain where you are, and so have decided to provide the funds. I have also taken the liberty of opening a separate account for you that should be substantial enough to support you through university. I expect you to attend university, Draco, and to excel at it.

Lucius Malfoy

Draco let the letter fall to the ground as he tried to wrap his head around the meaning of it.

He was staying. His father had let him stay, had supported his decision. It made him feel oddly guilty because, even after the fight he had had with his father, even after full-out claiming he no longer had a father, Lucius had still let him stay. It made his eyes sting to have proof that his father still loved him, in his own way.

With a jubilant laugh Draco hopped off his bed and ran out of his room. "Harry!" he called. "Harry come here, you have to hear this!"

TBC

Hello everyone! Sorry for the delay with this chapter, I had a LOT of exams and essays and then I was confronted with writer's block. I have no idea when I'll be posting the next chapter, please be patient with me. Thanks so much to everyone who sent reviews for the last chapter. And I'm sorry if this one seem anticlimactic and boring. More slashy goodness in the next chapter, hopefully that will make up for this.

NOTICE please, please, let me know who you want to see in the sequel. I know it's early to be asking, but I need to know which relationships need to develop in THIS fic to get them ready for the sequel. I'm happy to say I know what's going to be happening in the sequel (sort of) so there should be no delay between the end of this fic and the beginning of it's sequel, but either way, that's a ways off. As I've said, it will be DM/HP predominantly with a bit of RL/SB. Do you guys want RW/HG and BZ/PP? I was thinking about it. Also, do you want the gang to be as involved as they were in this? They will certainly be making appearances but is there anyone you want emphasized?

IMPORTANT!!!!!!!! TO ALL READERS!! This is an important PRE-WARNING. In future chapters on the very near horizon, there will be sections with restricted content that may or may not border on NC-17. Since I am aware that there are under age readers for this fic, and since the majority of the content is not restricted, I have decided to leave the overall rating as it is BUT I WILL be marking the section with the risque content and I ask that under age reader PLEASE avoid those sections. If you decide to read the section, I ask that you be mature about it and not come and flame me because I did warn you. I am giving this notification now in the hopes that readers are prepared to act maturely and responsibly. Thank-you.

TEASER

A cheesy English assignment

Valentine's Day

Winter Cold

1. This is a quote from Yehudi Menuhin