Finally, the new chapter. I guess I was just in the mood to break records, or something . . . I got the next chapter of Coexistence out in a record short time and this chapter out in a record long time. To commemorate the fact that I've actually finished this chapter at last, I'm going ahead and posting it as is. Review answers should be uploaded within a couple of days at most.

Hopefully, I won't take this long again.

Harry Potter belongs to me. J.K. Rowling is just a figment of your collective imaginations.

. . .
. . .
. . .

April Fools.
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~*~Adjustments~*~
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**
To the majority of the school, Wednesday passed with not even a whisper that anyone else in the school had any idea what a momentous event had happened the previous night. It was, perhaps, notable that far less Slytherin-instigated mayhem (generally second only to that of the Weasley twin variety) occurred than usual--on the whole, they were too busy processing the odd bonding that had taken place and, in the case of a select few, figuring out exactly what to write home, and how, about recent events.

Snape could be seen with an abstracted look in his eyes as he reviewed incessantly that one frightening moment when the black-haired (former) Gryffindor slit his wrist. But then, should I really be surprised? He eventually concluded with a sense of grudging respect--an emotion that, when applied to the aforementioned student, had only seemed to increase lately. This is Potter . . . he never does anything by halves.

The whole business had scared nearly ten years off his life, raising yet another interesting question. When had he begun to take such a personal interest in Potter's well-being? Somehow it had become more than just a way to repay his debt to the elder Potter and an excuse to watch over the child that should have been his.

The students lucky enough to have his class Wednesday learned that an abstracted Snape was a good thing--any swooping and glaring he did was a half-hearted effort at best, and he didn't take points hardly at all. Unless, that is, a student was foolish enough to try and pull him out of his thoughts--that was worth an automatic five points on the first flimsy pretext that came up; even the one Slytherin, too young to recognize the signs, that tried cost his House two points.

And if Jamie and Draco occasionally looked at each other strangely, almost as if they expected to see someone else instead, it was deemed slightly odd, but certainly far better than the usual knock-down, drag-out fights they engaged in. Platitudes about "the calm before the storm" ran rampant; the consensus was that it would not last, so peace-loving people--students and teachers alike--should do their best to enjoy the calm while they could.
**
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"Chris?"

The stocky boy shook his head. "I honestly don't know, V. It would help if I knew exactly what happened . . ."

The skinny sixth-year slumped back in his chair, stretched, and sighed. "I was afraid that was what you were going to say. At least your father isn't in the Inner Circle . . . he won't be expected to report everything in excruciating detail . . . more detail than I could offer even if I wanted to . . ."

"Ssh." Chris put a finger to the other's lip, his voice quiet. "It should be safe, but you should be careful what you say. 'The walls have ears' . . . especially here."

"Especially here." Vince's lips curled into half a rueful smile. "Sometimes, I almost wish I had been born a Hufflepuff . . . I get the feeling life would be a lot safer that way."

Chris' own smile shone through, a hair's breadth from taking on the sharp-toothed menace of a shark's. "But where would be the fun in that?"

"What made them do that, do you think?" Vince asked, after a short silence. "I mean . . . life's blood . . ."

"It does seem a bit excessive." Chris nodded, absently rubbing a small scar cutting across most of his right palm. Even with such a drastic subject change with so little warning, he followed his best friend's train of thought with the ease of long practice. "It's also one of the things that makes me think there was something decidedly . . . off. You'd think they would have bled far more than showed up on the carpet."

Vince raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you notice? Draco didn't have a bandage around his wrist this morning--and I'll lay odds that Harry didn't either. I don't think they did bleed after those first few moments before they sealed the bond."

"Instantaneous healing?" The Slytherin Head Boy's eyes were round. "I didn't know that was possible."

"Neither did I." Vince shook his head, looking down at his clenched right hand and remembering the weeks it took before the cut had fully healed. Good thing they had had their ceremony in private one Christmas Break, where there were fewer around to notice or care. "Neither did I."
**
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**
"Spill it, Sal. You're hiding something, and I'll bet my next month's allowance it has something to do with my dagger."

Jamie shut the door behind himself, advancing into the room. "What in the world gave you that idea?" Filled with as much innocent surprise as he could muster.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Perhaps because you already have your bracers back. Or maybe just the fact that your eyes are twinkling almost as Dumbledore's--a sure sign that you're hiding something." He smirked. "We may look different, but some habits never change. And I know all your habits."

Jamie rolled his eyes skyward. "Dear Merlin, please enlighten me as to just what prompted me to soulbond a Slytherin? They're far too observant. I think I was drunk . . ."

"You were not! We were both stone cold sober, and don't you ever believe otherwise, Salazar Rafael Slytherin." A pause. "Besides, we had just finished fending off a good-sized invading army. We hadn't had time to get drunk yet."

Jamie grinned. "I'm still amazed that one of us didn't murder the other after the first hundred years or so." He closed his eyes. "We really rushed into this, didn't we? People normally don't get to know each other well enough in, what, a month? five weeks? to make this sort of decision. We were really lucky it didn't turn out otherwise."

"We're not lucky. We're something even better--I'm Lucifer and you're Salazar. We've already spent twenty years getting to know each other and nearly a hundred and fifty--"

"One hundred forty-seven"

"--bonded. Thank you. I knew that. May I continue?"

"Be my guest."

"The point is, we know each other about as well as it is possible for two people to."

Jamie's mouth twisted. "Yes and no. It is true that I am Salazar and you are Lucifer, but it is also true that I am Harry and you are Draco. Tell me, what is my favorite color?"

"Emerald green, of course--to match your eyes. And silver secondly--why else would they be the Slytherin house colors?"

"Green and silver are pretty, yes, but I actually prefer black. Burgundy's pretty high up there too, and teal. Um. What's my opinion on the Muggle question?"

Draco opened his mouth, shut it again. "Okay, you've made your point. As Salazar, you were utterly opposed to any Muggle students attending Hogwarts . . . and I was the . . . voice of moderation?!" He blinked, surprised at the words coming out of his mouth. "Well, there's a role reversal . . ."

"There's the whole nature vs. nurture argument come into play." Jamie looked smug. "This time around, you were fed hatred of Muggles practically along with your mother's milk. I grew up among them, and even if I was part of the family of some of the worst, I also had plenty of chance to meet some of the better specimens of the race--one of them's one of my best friends, after all."

Draco looked torn. "Man. Now I can't make anymore 'mudblood' cracks without feeling guilty about it. Stupid Lucifer and his tolerance."

"Look at it as a blessing--at least now you don't have to unlearn that habit more . . . drastically . . ." Jamie made a great show of cracking his knuckles, all the while smiling beatifically.

"And what about you?" Draco shot. "Are Salazar's opinions just so completely suppressed by Harry's indoctrination that they don't even come up?"

"No, I understand and even to some extent agree with my former opinion on the subject of Muggles in Hogwarts." The green-eyed boy leaned forward. "Given the need for secrecy from the majority of the Muggle world, it made sense, considering the times.

"Back then, Muggles believed. They believed wholeheartedly in magic, in the supernatural . . . and that all magic was a gift of the Devil, in return for the sale of the soul. What do you think would have happened if little Muggle children disappeared off to school for ten months of the year, came back . . . and maybe, just on accident, something strange happened?

"Nowadays, things are different. Most people, if they saw something caused by magic, would shrug it off as a hallucination, maybe swear off whatever recreational drugs they are currently ingesting. But they wouldn't believe in the magic, so they would never think to come looking for the source.

"The world is a lot bigger, now, too. So what if a Muggle child is off at a magical boarding school three-quarters of the year? So are half his neighbors, to a more mundane variety. And even if he were the only one at a boarding school, there are enough other people around that no one really cares."

A pause. "Or, the few who do, are so disregarded by everyone else that it comes to essentially the same thing. No one believes a crazy person who claims that magic really exists. He gestured expansively. "My previous opinions are outdated now."

"Whoa." Draco held up his hands in laughing surrender. "My friend, you're preaching to the (reluctantly) converted. No need to get all up in arms."

"One thing hasn't changed, at least." Jamie grinned sheepishly and pulled at his ponytail. "I still have an almost Gryffindor tendency to speechify at the drop of a hat."

"How fitting, considering that the hat Sorted you there." Draco had an evil grin on his face, a slightly adjusted version of the familiar (and infamous) Lucifer 'I've-got-embarrassing-material-on-you-and-I-know-how-to-use-it' smile.

Once again, Jamie petitioned Merlin over this . . . situation . . . he found himself in. Why do I get the feeling I'm never going to live this down . . .?
**
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". . . Henrietta Lucia Malfoy . . . Harry Potter . . ."

Cho stared, unseeing, at the book in front of her. It is such an impossible scenario . . . yet it explains everything. The odd resemblance to Harry, the scar--even if it is not the conventional lightning--her comment about desperately wanting to be put into Slytherin--how could she not, having been raised as a Malfoy?

It explains so much, it can hardly not be true. But . . .

Ruefully, she acknowledged that her analytical mind, her pride--as only a Ravenclaw can be truly proud and sure of their ability to reason out anything--was for once interfering instead of helping her in her quest to solve this . . . situation.

It is real. Stop trying to come up with logical reasons why it can't be true and accept it. Believe it. Harry was telling the truth--how could she not have been, under Veritaserum?--and the rest of her story, told willingly, matches up with the involuntary clues she has dropped.

It all fits, so stop whining and accept as truth that alternate universes do exist, and that your partner in Survival and more-or-less friend comes from one of them.

"Cho? Is something wrong?"

Startled, she looked up. After a moment, her mind--happy to return to something it could wrap itself around--provided a name to go with the face. "No, Terry, I'm fine."

Terry Boot shifted slightly in place, his body instinctively following the impulses of his thoughts and taking a more implacable position. "No, you're not. Something is bothering you. I can tell--you've been staring at that same page for at least the last five minutes. And Justine has been complaining incessantly, so I know very well that the Transfiguration test you're 'studying' for is tomorrow."

He backed down suddenly. "Look, I'm not asking you to tell me, but is there anything I can do to help?"

Cho shook her head, though touched by the offer. "I was just preoccupied. I think I've gotten it pretty well figured out by now, though." She smiled suddenly. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For not treating me like I'm made of glass."

"Merlin!" Terry's eyes flew wide open. "I completely forgot . . . I hope I didn't bring back any bad . . . urgh . . ."

Cho stood. "This has gone on long enough. Sonorus."

She looked around the room. "Ahem. If I could have everyone's attention?" People looked up from their books; there was the expected amount of grumbling--these are Ravenclaws, after all. "All, or most of you, knew that I was going out with Cedric Diggory last year at the time of his . . . death." That was the hardest part, but she finally forced the word out.

Plus, it had the benefit of gathering everyone's undivided attention. "As a result, most, if not all of you, have been walking carefully around me these last few months. I appreciate your sympathy, really I do. But it's got to stop."

"Yes, I think I may have loved Cedric. Yes, he died. And yes, I still miss him . . . I think I always will. But life goes on."

"I can't guarantee that I won't ever again get sad when something inadvertently reminds me of him, or that I won't ever cry. But it's time that you stop trying so hard to refrain from reminding me. It's time that I move on . . . it's time that we all do."

"Remember Cedric, but remember also who brought him down. Remember that Voldemort still lives, unpunished for the deed he has committed--of which Cedric's death is one of the least. The time for mourning is over, and the time for action has come."

"But what can we do? We're just students." Little second-year Orla Quirke, who had lost a half-brother during the Dark Years. Bitterly, "Even if we wanted to take part in the fight, the adults wouldn't let us."

"What do we do? We prepare ourselves for the future, for Voldemort if he is still around by then, or for the next evil that appears." A genuine smile broke onto Cho's face. "We do what Ravenclaws do best, of course."

"We study!"
**
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". . . you never did answer me about my dagger. And your eyes are still twinkling. Give."

Jamie let out an extremely martyred sigh. "Must you ruin everything? Here I was, thinking it would make a perfect birthday present . . ."

"What?!" Draco bolted upright from his lounging position on the bed, outraged. "You were going to wait to return my property to me until March?!"

Raised eyebrow. ". . . no . . ." Drawled slowly to give Draco the feeling that he had just said something rather stupid. "Tell me, when is your birthday, Draco Malfoy?"

"You should know that as well as or better than me, considering how many years you've helped me celebrate it." Draco snapped. "Are you finally going senile, Sal'? March thirty--" Finally the light of dawning comprehension. "Oh. October 17. Right."

"Right." The black-haired boy rubbed his forehead. "Oh, well, I suppose getting your present a week or two early won't hurt you too badly. And since you'll whine at me until you get it . . ."

Draco drew the remains of his dignity around him. "I do not whine."

"Hm . . . perhaps you're right. As Luce', you whined. But as Draco, I do believe you've managed to elevate it to a veritable art form."

Draco's mouth dropped open at the sheer magnitude of that . . . that blatant falsehood. Then, rallying, "Well, it's better than that manipulative pout you do that makes you look like a . . . a kicked puppy! No one should be able to do that; it's just too unfair to the rest of us who have to try to resist it."

Jamie considered this. "Well, you may be in luck--I'm awfully out of practice. I don't know that I could summon up a decent pout if I tried." He took something out of his pocket, a something that, enlarged, turned out to be Draco's dagger. "So, have you changed your mind about wanting this back? I'm sure, if you insist, I could find it in my heart to refrain from returning it to you until March 30th."

"You do, I prove to you that I can too still thrash you--despite recent evidence to the contrary." From the sour look on his face, Draco's recent streak of losses to the ex-Gryffindor in their impromptu spars was not appreciated by said Slytherin.

Jamie laughed. "That sounds rather like a challenge to me." He remarked with deceptive innocence, tossing Draco his long dagger--a weapon which was so remarkably well fitted to him that even the distance of thousands of years and a bond that no longer bound them together, Jamie had recognized its call, and in that call immediately recognized Draco. "Now, if only I could recall exactly where I left my daggers . . . damn my swiss-cheesed memories, anyway . . ."

Draco could only nod his frustrated agreement, as he strapped the dagger on with the ease of long practice. There was a disconcerting moment, as he adjusted to doing so with so much smaller a body--he had been a bit on the short end of the spectrum as Lucifer as well, but this was bloody ridiculous!--but soon enough it settled on, like the old friend it was, and as he tightened the straps that last little bit, it faded into invisibility. Good. Nice to know that those particular embedded spells really do last practically forever, the way they were supposed to . . .

In that first, illuminating moment, he had been given the impression that he knew everything, that his previous life--and all the information he had gathered over the nearly two hundred years he had lived, all those spells and potions that had been lost through time--was an open book to him.

But when that first flush faded, he found himself hitting unexpected stumbling blocks. There was a lot of information that he knew he had known, but whenever he tried to remember it specifically, he couldn't. Important events--his bonding to Salazar, the death of his parents, his twin sister's wedding, her death in childbirth, leaving him to raise her daughter as his own--were as clear as if they had happened yesterday.

Still, no more than Jamie could he remember where Salazar had hidden his daggers. He remembered where many of the ancient runes he was studying came from, but generally had no more idea than before what they meant.

The execution of the Necromancy sets of spells--spells at which he had once been the foremost adept in the world--were just as much a mystery to him now as they were to a wizarding era in which only few scholars, if even that, recalled that Necromancy had once been fact, a genuine branch of magical study, not just a fairy tale with which to scare children.

Then again . . . considering how happy--how just flat ecstatic Voldemort would be to gain the secrets to Necromancy . . . and how increasingly likely it seemed that he would probably fall into the Dark Lord's hands at some point . . . perhaps it was just as well that he could no longer remember any specifics.
**
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"I'm resigning."

"Gred?"

"Yes, Forge?"

"I do believe I'm either growing senile or hallucinating."

"Sadly, I heard it too. Harry Potter, the youngest and most successful Seeker in a century or more, just said he was resigning."

". . . that's what I was afraid you would say."

"Boys. Honestly . . ." Angelina rolled her eyes. "Why, Harry? You're one of the best players we have . . . next year, you'll be the only old one left."

"All the more reason to get more and younger players in now." He pointed out with impeccable logic.

"But why?"

Jamie bit his thumbnail. "Conflict of interests. I have friends--close friends--in other Houses now. I don't think they would try to convince me to betray the team . . . but it's not fair to the team to stay on it when I have such divided loyalties. You deserve a Seeker whose only loyalty is to Gryffindor." So that, when the time comes, I can move on to Slytherin with no regrets.

Giving up Quidditch hurt, but not quite as much as he had expected it to. Perhaps because Salazar had never played the sport, so that half of himself was helping buffer the rest of him. Perhaps because he had already found a surrogate obsession in his love for Potions. Most likely, some combination of both.

"We're not going to be able to convince you otherwise, are we?" Angelina sighed. "Sometimes, I really hate Gryffindor stubbornness . . ."

Jamie shrugged, a deprecating smile on his face. Slytherins are at least as stubborn, many times, if not more so . . . they just tend to be slightly quieter about it.

". . . do you at least have any good ideas for a replacement?"

"I think" know "that Harry Evans is nearly as good as me, although I get the idea that she's not all that interested in Quidditch, so you may have to do some convincing."

To a man, the other five members of the team--all acquainted, at least briefly, with the transfer student that looked so much like their star Seeker--exchanged a Look, the same thought reflected clearly in all their eyes.

Why am I not surprised?
**
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For once, instead of the Slytherin pair, it was Parvati and Lucia who were the sole inhabitants of the Survival room. The latter leaned back with a sigh. "I can see why Jamie comes up here so often. It's . . . nice, and much quieter than Gryffindor Tower. The quiet can get a bit . . . stifling . . . but then, I think Jamie has a much higher tolerance for that sort of thing than I do."

Parvati nodded her agreement. "What it really needs is some nice background music. Too bad nothing electronic works inside Hogwarts."

"Beatles?"

"Nah. Bee Gees." Parvati wagged her tail at the thought of her 'collection' of Bee Gees CDs at home--her mother, while a witch, had grown up in a Muggle neighborhood . . . as had she and her sister, perhaps because of that. So she knew nearly as much as the run-of-the-mill Muggleborn about Muggle stuff.

"Er . . . Parvati?" Lucia stared at her friend, fascinated by the moving appendage. ". . . Why do you suddenly have a tail . . .?"

Parvati started. "Wha?!" Looked at her backside where, sure enough, there was a nice sturdy-looking tail, a pleasant dark brown that matched her hair, somehow poking out through her robes without tearing a hole in them. For a moment, her brain froze.

Then, slowly, she grinned. "Yes! Want to see something neat, Lucia?"

"Um . . ." Lucia gave the elder Patil twin an odd look. "Sure?"

"Well . . . here goes nothing . . ." Parvati closed her eyes and concentrated.

Pop!

Lucia stared. "Parvati . . . you . . . you're an Animagus?!"

The dark brown Lab jumped her, licking her face enthusiastically, before bouncing away and returning to Parvati, wearing a smug smile. "That's what the book Harry--the other Harry--gave me was." She dug around in her bag, reemerging with a small bound volume and a smile that passed smug into a veritable smirk. "Really, for Slytherins, they're awfully careless. They didn't even notice when I . . . kept it."

"They? Slytherin? But Jamie's a Gryffindor, the same as you or I . . ."

"His partner-in-crime is Draco Malfoy--though I'm almost certain he hasn't told him about you. And, Harry . . ." She hesitated. "I think this is part of why you two disagree so often and so vehemently . . ."

"Do you really think the other Harry--Jamie, you called him?--do you really think Jamie is still a Gryffindor in anything more than name?"

Lucia looked troubled. "But . . . he's Gryffindor. The Sorting Hat doesn't lie."

"People change." Parvati pointed out. "Maybe the potential was always there within him, to be Slytherin, but it was his Gryffindor side that was ascendant."

--the hat would have put me in Slytherin if I had let it--

Lucia blinked as the memory of that night--her first night in this world--flashed back strongly. "You may be right . . . but . . . it's just wrong. Jamie is Harry Potter. He should be in Gryffindor. Not Slytherin."

"Why don't you like the House, Harry?" Oh, this is such a bad idea, Parvati . . . shut up right now, before you break your friendship with her irreparably "Your brother was a Slytherin, wasn't he?" Imagining Draco Malfoy as anything but Slytherin was, frankly, impossible.

"I'd think you'd be happy that Jamie could find such a friend in him."
**
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"Pansy." Jamie nodded cordially to the dark-haired Slytherin. "Nice to see you again. So she's your witness, Draco?" With their memories back, both had remembered a bit of information forgotten over the centuries--their bond was not fully set yet. That could only be done by a private ceremony, one witness each, in which they also made an exchange of magical power.

With ordinary palm-bonds, it didn't increase the power of the bond significantly--probably the main reason the ceremony had fallen into obscurity--and the only real new benefit is that they could use each others' wands like their own. Something important in the times of constant battle that had shaped Salazar and Lucifer's early lives, that became less a necessity as the wars started becoming fewer and people began becoming more 'civilized'.

The blond nodded. "I've known Pansy practically all my life. She's like a sister to me."

"We're next door neighbors." Pansy added, eyes alight with humour. "Or as close as one can get, with huge manors and 'backyards' acres wide." She nodded. "Nice to meet you, Chang."

Cho looked a bit shell-shocked at the civility between Jamie and the two Slytherins, but she still managed a fairly decent return nod. "Parkinson."

Harry noted the way Draco's gaze lingered on Cho's face and the barest hint of pink brushing his cheeks. Oh ho . . . I remember a few of your habits, too, Lucifer old pal . . . I wonder how long this particular crush will last . . . He said nothing, however. He also remembered how vicious Luce' could get when teased, especially in that period of time before he realized himself that he was attracted.

That was one situation in which Salazar's defeat in a spar had been assured, even if the rest of the time they were fairly evenly matched.

"Exactly what do you want us for, anyway?" Cho asked. "You didn't explain anything, just that you needed my--our, I presume--help."

"I'll tell you once we're inside." Jamie replied, turning to the door and placing his palm on the panel. "Cedric."

Inured to it by now, Cho barely flinched; it did, however, surprise an unreadable look onto Pansy's face. Taking the better part of valour, she remained quiet, but it was obvious that she was storing the information away for later thought.

The door slid open. "Draco Malfoy is nothing like my brother." Lucia's voice, a razor's edge away from hysteria.

Thinking quickly, Jamie started trying to shoo the other three away from the door. "Maybe this isn't such a good time after all . . . maybe later . . ."

He could see in Cho's eyes that she knew, as she belatedly started helping him try to dissuade the native Slytherins. "This doesn't really concern us . . ."

"Are you sure about that? People are often made to seem larger than life once they're dead, after all." Parvati's voice, coldly calculating. Jamie's opinion of her rose; it was obvious she knew exactly what she was doing, provoking Lucia this way.

Why . . . it was almost Slytherin of her. He smiled a small smile, before returning his attention abruptly to the real problem. "On the contrary," Draco was mildly disagreeing with Cho's statement, "it seems that this concerns me most of all." He turned his head in Jamie's direction; raised an eyebrow. "More secrets, Sal'?"

Pansy nodded, her eyes hardened with determination. "And that which concerns Draco concerns me as well . . . unless he tells me otherwise."

Jamie looked from one resolute face to the other and bit his lip. "Very well." Amazing that I've managed to hide it this long, really. And better that they learn safely inside the Survival room, where they won't be able to use the information . . . Now he shooed the others into the room, firmly shutting the door and feeling the tingle as the wards that kept him from communicating what happened in this room relaxed.

With his newly-gained ability to actually see the wards, he was able to subtly affect them, applying the ward to Pansy as well. He wasn't knowledgeable enough to greatly change the wards in any way, and he greatly doubted he could tear them down; he couldn't make the wards except him from their ban on communication . . . but from a few minutes' study, he had found that extending that ban to someone who was not a part of Survival was child's play in comparison.

Livid was an understatement of Lucia's current state of mind. After the unnaturally long pause, when she began speaking again it was with an acid quality, a deadly quiet tone that he had never heard her use before. "Give me some credit, Parvati. I lived with Draco for nearly fourteen years; I think I ought to know him by now."

In the background, on the edge of audibility, Pansy's voice. "I didn't know you had a sister, Draco."

Draco's voice, equally quiet, in reply. "Neither did I."

"Things are different in this universe. I didn't really believe Jamie when he first started trying to tell me, but it's true. Malfoy is nothing like my brother. Snape is too cold, too distant; neither is he the godfather I loved--though he comes closer. And Harry Potter--" she laughed suddenly, a laugh with very little of humour to the sound. "We couldn't be more different if we tried!"

Parvati had seen them; her eyes widened. Jamie grimaced and mouthed 'Sorry, I couldn't stop them', but he wasn't sure she understood.

"We may be both Gryffindor," Draco, Pansy, and Jamie were all three convulsed with sudden, nearly silent 'coughing' fits; Cho eyed them strangely. It seems Harry Evans/Malfoy/Potter--argh! This is so confusing!--isn't the only one keeping secrets . . . "but that's where the similarity ends."

"At least he grew up knowing his birthright! No one knew who I was; they all thought I had died along with Voldemort, so when he started making his presence known, no one--least of all me; I was a Malfoy, after all! Why should it have been my duty?--was prepared."

Jamie's lips tightened. Here I thought she knew more of my life than that. I may have grown up knowing my name, yes . . . but my birthright? Pfeh. At least she knew she was a witch. And I'd like to know when I was asked if I wanted to go around trying to save the world . . . getting people killed in the process because I'm just not good enough yet . . .

"An alternate universe . . ." in his depth of speculation and revelation, Draco's voice came out louder than he had probably planned; loud enough to catch the arguers' attention and bring an abrupt halt to Lucia's rant. ". . . it makes sense. It all makes sense!"

Lucia's eyes widened; Jamie could see--or perhaps he was just imagining, the hint of tears sparkling in their corners. She looked at--or, more correctly, past; through to some unseen point far beyond--Draco, and one hand crept up to her chest, convulsively closed.

Without another word, she fled.

Parvati sighed. "I suppose I should congratulate you . . . I don't think you could have had worse timing if you tried."

A smile quirked at the edge of Jamie's mouth. "Most likely. Are you going to go after her?" Oh, what the hell. If everyone in this room didn't already know, they had certainly been given enough clues that they would figure it out sooner or later anyway. "Despite frequent evidence to the contrary, I do care deeply for her; I don't want to see her hurt any worse than necessary. She's like the sister I never had."

Parvati grinned slightly; it was a strained effort, but she managed it. "Take it from one who knows--even when siblings are not nearly as different as you and Harry--even when twins are not as different as you two--we still get into quite a few fights." She nodded. "Of course I'm going after her."

"Good. What you're doing to her needs to be done . . . but I think she is taking it better coming from you than from me."

Parvati rubbed her forehead, closing her eyes. "I beg leave to differ, but . . ." She shook her head, and left.
**
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Snape turned away from the small mirror he had put beside his malicious energy indicator--a new addition that made his desk even more crowded than it already was, but was nonetheless invaluable for preventing him from going into a panic when he felt the malicious energy in the Survival room spike yet again. He had never expected Harry 'Evans' to be the originator of the energy, though--despite the fact that they were now good enough friends to consider bonding each other, he had really expected to tune in to another of Potter and Draco's spats.

Harry . . . You have to call him 'Harry' now . . . He sighed, feeling the beginnings of yet another headache.

Well, at least it seemed like this particular situation had diffused itself without his intervention, so he turned back to his essays--seventh year Slytherins, this time, and quite an enjoyable read, for the most part--and spared little more thought for the now quiescent Survival room.

Except, perhaps, for some small corner of his mind, which wondered briefly why not only . . . Harry . . . and Draco, but also Cho and Pansy--who wasn't even in the class!--had arrived at the Survival room together, and what exactly they were planning on doing there.

He turned back to his essays. If it was anything important, he figured he'd find out about it eventually. No real need to try to find out now.
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"Now will you tell us what we are here for?"

"It has been nearly twenty-four hours since we bonded." Draco's lips twitched as he caught himself rubbing his thumb against the wrist that had been opened the previous night.

"Following tradition forgotten these many years past, we have come--each with, as a witness, one they trust greatly--to reaffirm that this bond was a correct decision and to cement it, that it will exist perpetually."

They shared a fond look at that; perpetually indeed. Even through mutual enmity--through being sorted into the Houses with the most against each other--they had managed to find each other once again.

Cho looked from Jamie to Draco, mouth open. "Bonded? As in . . . are you two . . . together?" She looked like she was having a hard time trying to wrap her mind around the thought.

"Romantically?!" Draco nearly squeaked. "No offense, Sal', but . . ."

"Ew." Jamie finished, grinning. "None taken." He shook his head. "No, most definitely not. This is the entirely platonic form of the bond."

Cho's eyes were crossed. "For some reason . . . that's almost harder to believe. I knew you two were . . . well, not at each other's throats any more . . . but to bond each other?"

Shrugs in unison. "The circumstances were just . . . right."

"So we took the chance when we had it."

". . . exactly what will we be doing?" Pansy asked. "I'm not at all familiar with this . . . reaffirmation ceremony you speak of."

They exchanged glances. "It should be fairly obvious. You'll have to affirm that you are acting as witness at one point, and then at the end you'll need to say 'So mote it be', but that's about it. It's more an honorary role than anything else."

"Hm." Cho eyes Jamie speculatively. "Someday, you're going to let me borrow the book you found all this information in." It was not a question.

Jamie just smiled enigmatically, knowing it would annoy the inquisitive Ravenclaw, and turned back to Draco, nodding to him.

"I, Draco Anton Malfoy--"

--I, Lucifer Bryn de la Rossi--

"--I, Harry James Potter--"

--I, Salazar Rafael Slytherin--

"--now affirm my decision to accept this bond and, in this acceptance, deepen it--"

"--for this is a bond that will endure for eternity, through sickness, through sadness, through individual joy and even through death."

"As my witness, I call Cho Chang." Jamie turned to Cho. "Will you witness my bonding to Draco Malfoy?"

"It is an honor to witness your bonding to Draco Malfoy." Cho replied, her voice almost entirely steady, though she could feel the power beginning to swirl through the room. It was not anything visible; just a prickling at the back of her neck, a feeling of something immense building.

In the background, muffled, she thought she heard Draco asking Pansy Parkinson the same question, but couldn't be sure; she was trapped by Harry's luminous eyes.

Then he turned away, back to Draco, and she finally relaxed. Those eyes . . . she could drown in those eyes; be incinerated by their intensity. For an entirely new reason, now, she was happy that he no longer had a crush on her. To be the sole focus of that intensity . . .

She shuddered in reaction. I pity the one who finally captures the heart behind those eyes. She would have to be strong, or risk . . . losing herself entirely . . .
**
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"Go away." Parvati smiled a little as she approached her bed and sat down gently, running her fingers through Lucia's short hair in a soothing gesture. She had thought Lucia might come here, so this was the first place she had looked.

She stiffened under Parvati's touch, but did not move away. After a couple of moments, she uncurled a little, looking up at Parvati with reddened eyes. "Damn you." She whispered. "Damn you for making me remember . . . him. Damn you for making me cry."

"You would have eventually . . . you can't hide from the memory forever. Tears . . . they help, sometimes."

A negative movement. "But Malfoys don't cry." Tears leaked from now tightly shut eyelids. "And if I start remembering, his death will become real. I keep thinking, 'Someday, I'll return home, and he'll be there, and he'll hold out his arms to me, and say "Where were you? I was worried!" ' . . . and everything will be all right. But it won't. It won't ever be all right again." She had curled up again, this time towards Parvati. The tears flowed faster now, creating a darker damp spot on the burnished gold blanket. "I want to go home."

"I know." Parvati gazed off into the distance, eyes blank. I don't want you to go . . .

I'm glad, and ashamed that I'm glad, that as far as we know, there is no way for you to leave . . . yet you must. You have to confront what waits for you, back in your home reality, and I must let you go . . .

It was a horrible feeling, tearing her heart in two. I must smile, and bid you good bye, knowing you'll never return. I have to try to find a way to send you back home, if I can, because you'll never be happy here. Not like this. Her fingers tightened in her friend's hair for a moment, before she forced them slack again. Reluctantly, inexorably, she withdrew her hand entirely, placing it in her lap.

A small noise, a bit of a shift (in protest?), and she realized that in the short time she had been silent, Lucia had fallen asleep. Shaking her head fondly, she smiled a little, sadly, and repeated solely for her own benefit, "I know."
**
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Snape's head shot up from where it had previously been bent over Beth's essay--a work of art, as always--to focus on the caltrop. It lay quiescent, yet he could feel the buildup of power in the Survival room. It had an oddly familiar feel, at that . . .

Of course! The burst of power at Draco and Harry's bonding last night . . .

He stood. It seemed like there was something worth his notice going on in the Survival room, after all . . .
**
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He reached the room and opened the door just as the power--which had grown to rather insane levels--abruptly disappeared. "So mote it be." Pansy and Chang chorused.

Tiny tendrils of reminiscent power, the shadow of the previous levels, still tinted the air as Jamie and Draco grinned at each other. "It's good to be back." The chorused, in even more perfect unison than Pansy and Chang had accomplished.

Snape crossed his arms and asked mildly, "What is going on here?"

The grins immediately wiped off Jamie and Draco's face as they said in a sing-song tone of voice, "Nothing, Professor Snape."

He didn't even dignify that with any more of an answer than the raising of a single eyebrow, as he turned the majority of his attention to the one most likely to cave, that sixth-year Ravenclaw, Cho Chang.

"Some sort of ceremony to more fully cement the . . ." she trailed off. "Crap. Does he know?" Her face was red from the realization that she may have just betrayed something important.

"He was there." Still the eerie duality of voices.

"Would you stop that?" Pansy asked irritably.

"Sorry." This time, only Draco spoke, though Jamie looked like he was about to.

"It's . . . you could say it's a bit of a side-effect. Mixing our magic made us . . . well, effectively one person for a moment or two there; it just takes a bit of time before we sort ourselves back out into the two separate people we are." Jamie added.

"You mixed your magic?" Snape's eyes narrowed. I was not aware that that was even possible . . . it would definitely explain why so much power had gathered. I wouldn't be surprised if Albus decided to look in . . .

. . . Merlin. What am I going to tell him about Harry and Draco? He'll skin me alive . . .

"It was to cement the bond." They began to chorus, but after a brief exchange of looks, Jamie dropped out in the middle of a word. "It used to be a very common practice."

"I've never heard of this . . . practice . . ." He drawled doubtfully.

"Just because you've never heard of something, doesn't mean it doesn't exist." They chanted.

Not that sing-song tone again . . .
**
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Cho wandered back to the Ravenclaw dorms, deep in thought, a book she had found just lying on the floor in her hands. She figured she'd look at it, see if it gave any clue as to who was the owner . . . otherwise, she'd just return it to the library.

That had been an . . . enlightening . . . period of time. A Malfoy and a Potter, bonded. Who would have ever guessed? She chuckled suddenly. If Lucius Malfoy were dead, he'd be spinning in his grave for sure.

"What's that?" Man, there was just something about her and letting Terry Boot sneak up on her today . . . this was the second time in not too much longer than as many hours. She rolled her eyes as the fifth-year plucked the book from her arms.

Immediately his face contorted with a mild form of disgust. "A book on the history of Muggle ballet?" Hastily, he handed the book back to her. "Well, I suppose, if that's what interests you . . ." And retreated.

Ballet? Not her first choice of topics, certainly, but it sounded rather interesting. She wandered up to her room--unlike the other Houses, Ravenclaw Prefects' rooms were joined to the ordinary dorms. In a House as intelligently-minded as Ravenclaw, the prefect distinction meant even less than normal; prefects still joined in what little social life Ravenclaw had just as if they were normal students, so it was no real surprise that their rooms weren't separated away, either.

Kicking off her shoes, she fell onto the bed with a bounce, and opened the book, eager to lose herself in the words and put off, for a time, thinking of Harry and bonding and Slytherins . . . and Draco . . . all the difficult, real topics.

". . . You can read this journal of mine, which means you have the potential to become one of us . . ."
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1 April 2003
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tima, WittchWay, Fortissimo, Vree, sk8reagle, starsong, petunia812002, silver, Solus Nox, koko, atalante, Kalor, Anon, ninerings, Mystic Shadow, Webweaver, ROGUE-sorceress, Rogue1615, Crydwyn, azntgr01, Arizosa, floramorada, Rokeon, angel, Carya, Cetsunai, Agua, Silver Angel, lilytiger20, Asha Dreamweaver, Terra Evans, Jolie, EriEka127, Skysong, Yllyana, marg, serapotter, LeopardDance, Sailor Hylia--Thanks.

Pagan Witch--Snape/Harry has been hard for me for some reason . . . every time I start maneuvering them in that direction, one or the other (or both) of them decides he has something better to do instead. -_-;;

I'm sorry you feel that way about Lucia . . . a lot of people do; lots more than I ever expected. *pats her on head* Poor baby . . . makes me feel sorry for her; try to write her more positively . . . and everyone still hates her. It's not her fault that she's Gryffindor enough to make Jamie (and most of the audience) scream . . . or maybe it is . . . she's definitely not an idiot, though. Just . . . too . . . *searches for appropriate word* *finally gives up* Gryffindor.

Canis Black--*bows* Thank you. Glad to oblige.

Runespoor--No, you pegged it. No Harry/Draco slash. *sighs* I don't have any objections to it--it's actually one of my more favored pairings--but I just can't see it happening in this story. Jamie and Draco are just acting too 'just-friends' for that to be possible. Their bond is entirely platonic.

Saavik--Snape may/probably will find out what happened eventually, but I doubt he'll realize--it's just too fantastical a possibility. No, their looks didn't change--it was just that for a moment he saw 'what-Draco-used-to-be' instead of 'what-Draco-is'. There is going to be both slash and het later on; no Harry/Draco slash, tho'. That is remaining strictly platonic.

Teardrop--I'm afraid I didn't quite manage to cover everyone . . . and I'm not sure I did a very good job of it either. But this chapter should have shown at least a few of their reactions.

sidhe_ranma--Nah, I sit at my computer writing up evil ways to torture my readers. I save all my thinking for around ten-thirty at night (or whenever I end up going to bed) or my sixth-period class. Especially the former; you have no idea how many of my ideas have their seeds in some sort of late-night "revelation".

~Mary~--*doubtful/hopefully* Were these good enough details for you? Yup, Sal and Luce were bonded, and then reincarnated, and then as Harry and Draco bonded again. I'm glad you approve of my twistiness. ^^ Hints keep coming here and there, but neither really figures it out until the end of chapter 13 (. . . which is one good thing about neglecting to answer reviews until after another couple chapters come out, I suppose . . . means I know more than I would have . . .)

Jamie being Slytherin will probably not become public knowledge for quite a while. And yes, you're right about Draco/Lucifer being Jamie's "blood-bonded friend protector guy" (I'm too lazy to go back and look it up, too . . .)

Weeellllll . . . I don't think that amazon.uk is cheaper anymore, now that practically everyone under the sun is bouncing around proclaiming 40% discounts . . . but without the discount, yes, it's cheaper. Harry & straightness: Of course, part of this might have something to do with the fact that Hermione is practically the only female character within his general age range with any developed personality worth speaking of . . .

Yes, Haruka's going to be okay . . . and Draco's going to show a moment of 'soft' side a whole lot earlier than planned . . . if I ever get around to writing that chapter, that is . . . *is depressed* I'll take the conk on the head by the inspiration fairy and the cookie. ^^ Maybe the combination will actually shake some ideas loose . . .

darkhaven--*smiles showing vampire fangs* Oh, yes, Jamie will be going as Voldemort . . . and yes, that scene should be veeerrrrryyyy in'trusting.

That little about Rand? *frowns* Not good. Though I actually like most of the girls better . . . Rand can be rather tiring at times. Hm . . . oddly, I think I like Siuan and Leane best, though when Siuan is trying to pull rank (that she doesn't have anymore) it makes me want to kick her . . . and Moiraine (I'm still pissed off at Robert Jordan for killing her off, even if she does come back), especially since she reminds me oddly of Setsuna. I even have a soft spot for Lanfear/Meiran . . . but as Cyndane she just pisses me off.

waffles--The reason Dumbledore hasn't shown up yet is that I have no idea how to write him, or exactly how much and how in-depth he knows. I don't think he knows about Jamie's initiation to Slytherin, though . . . that's Slytherin Business, so I can't see even the few Slyths who do talk to Dumbledore being willing to divulge that information. And yes, there is a special reason--or at least a significance--to them being dragons.

Katy999--Yes, I have read _The Last Dragonlord_. I loved it. Have you read _Dragon and Phoenix_ (the sequel) yet? Since Jamie and Lucia are related, yes, they're both descended from Slytherin--and the other three Founders, in fact--and distantly related to Voldemort. *gets bad taste in mouth* I think I agree. Ew.

IceWind--Yes, dislike of/annoyance at Lucia is a rather common phenomenon around these parts . . . and to think originally, she was going to be the main character . . . but then, of course, Jamie had to go all Slytherin on me and steal the spotlight . . . *shrugs* Oh well. Just makes things all the more interesting, eh? ^^

LadyBird--Let's put it this way . . . if there were hints, I missed them too. :P I knew all along that he was going to be Slytherin's (true) heir, but it wasn't until very recently that I decided that he was going to be Slytherin himself.

I agree with you on the assessment of the canon-H/G situation. And no, I really can't see J.K. being willing to use *looks around quickly* *whispers* slash in her story. And I'm pretty sure the whole Cho thing was nipped in the bud after Cedric's death; who else is female and approximately the same age? Parvati or Lavender? They're cardboard characters; the only thing we know about them is that they adore Professor Trelawney. Hermione? That might work, except I get the feeling that she's reserved for Ron. No, Ginny's just about the only choice. *sighs deeply*

I hope she at least has the decency to write it well . . .

Simone of the Zordiac--Lessee. As you've probably already read (*ducks head in embarrassment*), a little more about Lucifer has come out, and a little more about my conception of Salazar as well. More random stuff will come as I think it up, but it's kinda hard when I'm making up the character out of whole cloth and have to keep him and Draco fairly well balanced within them-self.

As for Draco--for that, I actually stooped to borrowing from the movie, (as you will see in 14): he doesn't go after everything sparkly and shiny, because his draconic hoarding-instinct was already adequately expressed in him mild kleptomaniacal tendencies (which I assume he has gotten under slightly better control in the intervening years . . .).

I hope your keyboard is okay . . . *tries to hide triumphantly evil smirk* I love it when I provoke the sort of reaction I want!

Do-Op--No, he's staying where he is for now (though there may be a certain amount of middle-of-the-night sneaking into Draco's room). No, he won't tell Lucia, but she'll end up figuring it out, more or less. Ron won't do anything until he finds out . . . mostly because I haven't figured out exactly how he'll react yet. *sheepish grin*

You may steal my initiation idea with all my good will--though I agree, a plug would be appreciated. After all, I'm sure there's a lot of stuff in my stories that I've inadvertently (or not so inadvertently) 'adopted' from other stories I've read.

I was kinda shocked the first time I realized I was critiquing J.K.R. Then I started thinking . . . and came to the conclusion that I've been criticizing her ever since somewhere around the time I decided to start writing solid HP myself (and started finding all the loopholes) and started reading lots of Slytherin!Harry, time/interdimensional-travel!Harry, and anything-but-H/G-please!Harry stories . . . and enjoying them if possible, even more than the originals . . . so I might as well take the final step and start critiquing her writing as well. ^_^;;

Sabrina--I included a more complete explanation in one of my reviews to Chapter 13 (since I did them before finishing these, for some odd reason . . . -_-;;), but the short version is, the spell was not meant to wear off in 14 years, it's just that the conflict between 'your father' and 'James Potter' when the two turned out not to be the same (the process beginning when Jamie's attitude changed, his mind opening to the possibility of the idea even though it had not ever point-blank occured to him) caused the gradual change.

Being made Slytherin is, for now, solely the secret of the Slytherins (and eventually their parents and eventually Voldemort); the rest of the school doesn't have a clue. *tips imaginary hat, grinning wildly* Glad you liked the romance novels.

Juno--*blushes madly*

AngelKatharine--Remember that connection about seventeen generations back between the Potters and the Snapes? The one that Draco likes to tease Jamie with? Well, he's descended from the founders through that mutual Snape-Potter relation, so it ends up not mattering which he is.

Jay--Yes, the Wizarding World is much more supportive of homosexual relationships, mostly because that is a particular obstacle I don't feel capable of tackling. I just . . . don't know enough, and don't have a good enough feel for the entire sad, infuriating situation (I mean, please. Don't people do enough reproducing in the world we live in as it is? With eleven-year-olds having babies every now and then, I'd think being openly gay or bi would be a relief, not a plague. Bah). *sighs* I'll leave that to better people than me, and just stick with what I am good at--twisting cliches until they scream for mercy. *evil grin*