Author's Note:

Oh My God! By the Goddess! I did it! I can't believe I did it! I updated! I added! And it is freakin' long!!!!

I am so sorry that it took such a long time but I am really booking on this chapter being worth the wait. I worked so hard on it… so long… I truly did love every moment of it. As always your reviews and thoughts are welcomed! Can't wait to hear what you think of my work…

----------------On to the Story--------------

Darkness. He had always thought that is was ironic that the gateway between the magickal world and the muggle world was through darkness. It should have been disconcerting, but it was just the opposite. It was comfort. In the darkness, denied vision, everything else became magnified. The sound of his hurried footsteps, the metallic clang of the trolley wheels on the floor all seemed to be raised to a deafening pitch; and yet it wasn't disturbing. The scent of brick and age, dust and the lingering traces of leather and metal in the air surrounded him, giving him strength and security.

Then there was the feel of it all.

The time it took to pass through the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 and into the magickal world where the Hogwarts Express waited at platform 9 ¾ was a space of only five seconds, but in those few seconds he could feel everything. The air around him seemed to become alive with a warmth that increased as he approached the end of the darkness, a welcome that could only be described as the joy of having come home again. But the best part, the best part, was the sensation that came within the last second or two of darkness; it was then that he could feel the magick. It grew and he could feel it, a heartbeat, a pulse that began soft, filling him as it increased in tone and complexity until it became a symphony humming through his mind and over his skin.

It was then, at that moment, when the symphony was at its peak and the sounds and smells threatened to consume him, that the light burst through the darkness, like the sun after a storm.

It was then that he knew he was home.

And with that wonderful feeling of coming home, with the warmth of magick that wrapped around him, Harry Potter pushed through the barrier, onto platform 9 ¾, and into the bustle that was the magickal world.

------------

"Oi, Harry, come on!"

Green eyes turned slowly toward the voice, lost in a thoughtful haze behind the bright glint of glasses and the straying wisps of shaggy black hair. Their color was intense, a pure and vibrant emerald that seemed to go on forever, as if the world itself was locked within that gaze. It was piercing and forceful and although the eyes stared straight at the voice's owner it was as if they weren't actually seeing anything. Or perhaps they were seeing everything

Ron stood still beneath the intensity of the gaze, uncertainty written in his own eyes. Paralyzed by eyes that were at once both familiar and distant, in a face that he had seen go through over five years worth of emotions and changes, but which was now void. Hesitant and feeble, his voice tremble slightly as he ventured to speak. "Harry, you alright?"

Slowly comprehension dawned in the green eyes and they smiled, familiar warmth spreading over his face like a wildfire until the haunting expression was but a memory. "I'm fine, Ron," answered Harry, "Never better, but you look terrible. You sure you're okay?" The moment of thought was forgotten and Harry glanced at the clock overhead his eyes widening. Without waiting for Ron's reply he steered his trolley toward Ron and the Hogwarts Express, calling over his shoulder as he passed his friend, "Come on, Ron! We're going to be late."

Ron watched with curiosity as Harry passed by. What had that look been for? Had Harry even heard him the first time? He had turned toward him so he must have… Maybe he hadn't understood. He could have been daydreaming, that had been happening a lot lately.

Ron knew that Harry had a deep love and wonder of the magickal world. Who wouldn't after having pent most of his life in the Muggle world., and with his horrible relatives? Ron couldn't even comprehend how it must feel for Harry to have been thrust into a new world, a world where everything was so different, so much better, as Harry put it, and where he was no longer an insignificant embarrassment, but idolized icon. That experience and background along with Harry's unusual sensitivity to magick could be why he often spaced out.

Ron grinned and turned his out cart, a little over 5 years wasn't enough to have completely solved the mystery that was Harry James Potter. Every time he thought he had him figured out another locked door or hidden depth seemed to jump out at him. Wheeling his own trolley after his friend he followed after Harry, the look in his friend's eyes still haunting him. It just hadn't seemed like wonder or daydreams this time, there had been something more in those green depths. It was deeper, as though Ron had been looking into eyes that were much older than his. Harry had seen more in his life than Ron had any hope or wish to see. Sometimes when he looked at Harry, caught him unawares, staring into the fireplace, the sky or just out into space, it was like it wasn't Harry.

That was how it had been this time. It hadn't been Harry that had turned to him, but at the same time it was. It was more 'Harry' than anything else he had ever seen in his friend…

Shaking his head Ron grinned as he and Harry caught up with Hermione and loaded onto the train. Stowing their trunks and belongings in a back compartment, Ron sat down his grin widening, amused at himself.

Since when had he become a philosopher? And over Harry's eyes, too!!

Laughing at himself, he struggled to hold the laughter back, trying to keep his face neutral as he smiled across the compartment at Harry and Hermione.

---

While Ron had been philosophizing over Harry's eyes, Harry had been musing over another pair of eyes. Warm brown eyes, tinged with gold that sparkled under an uneven mop of sandy colored hair. It wasn't unruly, or haggard as Harry's tended to be, but it was in a constant state of disorder.

Now that he thought about it, it was a rather appealing combination…

A sharp whistle sounded, jolting him from his thoughts as the train began to move and that moment of confusion he didn't notice the image in his mind haze in shape and color before it faded; sandy hair shimmering to silvery blonde, warm brown eyes icing over into a cool gray, and strong boyish features sharpening into delicate angles.

Who could blame him for not noticing…

He was on his way home….

---

"I have to read it some time, Ron, and so do you!" Hermione's voice broke through into Harry's consciousness.

"Ugh! Do you have to remind me, 'Mione?", Ron replied, disgusted.

Hermione shot a disapproving look over at Ron, who sighed and sagged back against the cushion of his seat.

"I know I'll have to read it, but do you have to read it now?!"

Settling into the comfort of their voices, Harry glanced sideways at the open book in Hermione's lap: 'Distillation of Death by Draughts'. She was only on Ch. 5. Harry chuckled to himself and let himself wonder briefly what his friends would say if he told them that he was already on Ch. 15. It was tempting for a moment, if only to seen the look on Ron's face.

Thinking of the book, his mind switched back to its previous subject and he glanced down at his wrist watch.

11:15

'Is it too early?'

Sudden anxiety filled him as all of his doubts and scenarios came back to plague him.

Was he sure he wanted this?

He could just sit here with Ron and Hermione, ignore the whole thing, and if it didn't kill the subject, he could use them as an excuse.

'Excuse?!'

Since when did he hide behind his friends when something unsettling came up? He had faced the Dark Lord on more than one occasion. Why did confronting a boy his own age seem so much more terrifying?

Because… because he wasn't just confronting someone else, he was confronting himself, confronting his nature and, if unsure, could damage the opinions of those who mattered most in his life. It wasn't just the Wizarding World's views that he was worried about, he could really care less what they thought, but those of the people close to him, those he called friends and family were utmost in his mind.

Dumbledore, Sirius, Ron, 'Mione, the Weasleys, Remus, even his parents…

What would they say if they learned about his sexual preference? What would they think of Harry Potter now? The Boy-Who-Live, a homosexual?

Fidgeting with the sleeve of his robes he glance back down at his watch then towards the door and back down at his watch. He would have to think up an excuse. Ron and Hermione couldn't suspect anything until he was prepared for their reactions. All he had to do was act normal…

He had already failed…

Never breaking stride in her argument with Ron, they were second nature now and she could return fire without actually paying attention to the argument, Hermione watched Harry out of the corner of her eye. Something softened in them and she suppressed the urge to take his hand and comfort him.

'Oh, Harry,' she thought sadly, 'why wont you just ask? Do you not trust us enough for that?' It hurt to think that. 'We are going to have to have a talk later, but for now go. Go on. Go see him…'

She couldn't help but grin at his uncertainty, and couldn't help but feel sad…

'Two hearts will be broken after today…'

Upset with his steady loss in the argument, Ron turned away towards the window and promptly buried his own head in a book of the latest quidditch moves. Harry had bought it for him last Christmas.

Hermione relaxed back into her seat, back to reading her book, with a smug, self-satisfied smile plastered on her face.

It was now or never…

Standing up, Harry dug into his pocket, tossing a mix of coinage to Ron. "In case the trolley witch comes by while I'm gone."

"Where you going, Harry?" Ron asked, more out of habit than anything, his attention focused on a picture of a keeper demonstrating a Double Eight Loop followed up by a complex execution of Starfish and Stick maneuver.

"I promised to go meet someone," Harry offered in what he hoped was an off-handed tone, "I loaned them a book last year."

"Mmm."

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron and turned to Hermione. "Be back in a little while." Leaning forward he added softly, "Make sure that he leaves me some Chocolate Frogs." Sharing a quick, smile with Hermione, he walked out into the aisle and headed toward the rear of the train.

Hermione could only shake her head before engrossing herself into the proper method of chopping Dragon's Blood roots.

----

It was raining now, had been since they had left the shelter of King's Cross, and probably would be for the rest of the train ride. It was only about fifteen minutes into the journey, but they had been fifteen glorious minutes of silence and peace. Nothing but the rain and lightning, the sounds of the train, and the endless wanderings of thought existed for those few precious moments.

They were more precious to him than the fine clothes or hefty sack of galleons that Draco Malfoy carried with him. To him they were a miracle. No Crabbe. No Goyle. No pretenses. And, best of all, no Pansy Parkinson.

Draco shuddered as he remembered the drive up to King's Cross with her. Merlin forbid that the girl make use of the spacey backseat of the limo. Well, in truth, she wanted to make use of the backseat and the long ride from Malfoy Manor, but not in a way that appealed to me. It took half the trip to convince her that he found her offer less than flattering, and even after that she insisted on draping herself over him for the entire last half of the trip. He spent that eternity of Hell fighting off her wondering hands while trying to maintain his mask of normalcy.

'It makes me sick to think that a year ago I let her paw at me like that. Eugh! I had hoped that my change in appearance might have put her off a little.' Looking at his reflection in the window glass he frowns.

Silver blonde hair carelessly frames an angular heart-shaped face, falling to his shoulders. Solemn gray eyes watch as a pale delicate hand pulls back a section of hair to catch the echoing metallic wink of a single, silver hoop from his right ear. Even he had to admit that, far from making him look unkempt, the look gave him a look of effortless and casual sexuality.

The earring had been a bit daring, and on the right ear to boot, but it only added to the look. It was the closest he had come to declaring his sexuality, not that he would admit that he was gay. To anyone who asked, he just preferred his right ear to his left. Homosexuality wasn't looked on kindly by the old, pureblood wizarding families as it was by the rest of the magickal community. Not that it didn't happen mind you, behind closed doors and with discretion.

Fingering the silver hoop, he let himself review his choice. It was dangerous to have taken the step, but it was a luxury that he had allowed himself. Pansy had made a few rather tasteless remarks about Draco's choice of accessory in conjunction with a few names. Seamus Finnigan, Justin Finch-Fletchy, and the Weasley Twins had returned to school last year sporting their own declarations and their names had come up many times in various situations with his own. It was a relief when Pansy finally let up. She had a knack for knowing when she reached the end of his good graces and had backed down, saying that it was only a joke.

It was a common wizard custom to pierce one of your ears the day that you decided your sexuality, Draco had pierced his left during his second year and wore it just long enough for his house to see his choice before he removed it and magickally closed the hole; back then he had felt that it marred his appearance.

Letting his hand drop to his lap, he looked the empty compartment, focusing on nothing solid.

As far as he knew Potter had yet to pierce his ear. The dunce probably didn't even know about the custom. He often wondered how he had managed to fall for someone so completely clueless. Weasley probably hadn't even clued him in, even though Ron had pierced his ear during fourth year after the Yule Ball. Which left him wondering if it had occurred to Granger that Potter might need that information. Witches had a different way of claiming their sexuality; they wore a silver ring on their pinky with opal stone bewitched into a complex spiral if they preferred their own sex. Needless to say, Granger didn't sport such a ring.

The fact that Harry wasn't pierced yet, was a source of both anxiety and hope.

Leaning back against the seat he absently rubbed at the back of his neck, working out the kinks that hadn't left him from his last training session. At least the lash marks from his father had faded and no longer hurt.

Draco barely managed to suppress a snarl at the thought of his father, but he failed as his fingers grazed over the cool metal of his necklace. Pale fingers tightened on the delicate links and drew the necklace out from under his robes, silver and gold coils wink at him as the peridot and topaz taunt him from the ring dangling on the necklace.

There was no escaping the damn ring this year. Pansy had insisted on him at least wearing it on a necklace.

'It wont be in any danger this way' she had argued, her body turned toward Draco's, her leg lying unabashedly between his own while her fingers toyed with the ring and necklace she had just collared Draco with, 'You can tuck it beneath your cloak and it will be perfectly safe.' Fluttering her eyelashes, she had let her fingers skim down Draco's torso. 'I want to know that its always near you… and this way it's close to your heart.'

He hadn't been able to battle against that reasoning and her proximity had him wanting to pacify her as quickly as possible and lengthen the distance between them. If he refused to wear it then she would become suspicious; especially with his earring. So he wore the collar and let her think that she held the leash.

Tucking the necklace back beneath his cloak he turned back to the window, watching the rain streak down the window's surface, the occasional lightning transforming the rivers into veins of pure silver.

Closing his eyes he sighed.

"Damn the prophesy… and damn you Potter…"

And because he was alone he let himself have one more luxury.

"Damn you Harry…"

---

"Anyone in here?"

The question caught Draco off guard and gray eyes flashed silver as they shot open to meet familiar green in the lightning slashed window.

It was a reflection, but still…

Both boys froze, their eyes locked on each other through the glasses reflection, but only Draco noticed that all sound had faded under the crashing roll of thunder and the throbbing beat of his own pulse. Draco could feel the power build between them and he briefly wondered if Harry even noticed it.

'He can't be that dense right?'

The flicker of silver and blue caught his attention and he closed his eyes before Harry could notice.

'Not now…'

It hurt to push the power away… it always hurt to deny yourself. Especially when part of himself was staring at him from the doorway.

Turning he opened his eyes when he was certain that he had himself under control and almost had to close his eyes again as the full force of warm emerald green left him breathless.

The reflection had been nothing compared to this

---

Harry watched with shock and curiosity as the Slytherin quickly pulled himself together. The pale figure look away from him quickly, readjusting in the seat, sitting up straight and putting his robes right but refusing to meet his eyes again.

"Uh… sorry", Harry offered as his hand buried itself deep in his pocket, wrapping around the letter there. They had both been caught off guard. Harry wasn't expecting anyone to be here, was half hoping there wouldn't be anyone here yet, least of all Malfoy. Didn't Malfoy usually sit up further along the train with his harem of loyal subjects and admirers? What was he doing in the back of the train? And alone?

"Sorry, Potter?" Malfoy managed to find his voice, thanking Merlin that the breathlessness made it sound scathing. Running a hand through his hair he fought to balance himself.

"Um, yeah." Harry fished for an excuse. "I didn't think anyone was in here. I didn't mean to intrude." That was exactly how he felt; that he had intruded on a private moment that Malfoy hadn't wanted anyone to see. He had never seen Malfoy that relaxed and unguarded before. "What are you doing back here? Don't you usually sit with all your … uh…", 'minions?' ,"friends?"

"Friends?" the word stretched between them as Draco stared straight ahead. 'Friends might be nice if I had them. You can't exactly call my housemates my friends.' "I like being alone…"

"I can imagine. Especially with the company you keep." Harry added, treading the line between conversation and confrontation carefully. "How do you maintain a conversation with Crabbe and Goyle? Learn to speak troll?"

'Close, Potter, very close", Draco fought off the beginnings of a smile. "You'd be surprised. Suffice it to say that I prefer solitude."

Grinning Harry leaned against the doorframe. "To think that one day I would discover the Prince of Slytherin dodging the company of his subjects…"

Suddenly Harry's smile faded and his words died on his lips. Brilliant silver flashed, lightning tearing through the darkness behind them, and for a moment Harry felt the stirrings of real fear from his archrival.

"Lets get one thing straightened away right now!" Draco ground out. "Whatever may have held truth in the past, I am not now nor will I ever be the 'Prince of Slytherin'… Are we clear, Golden Boy?"

Shocked faded away to curious irritation. "Transparently; however, if I drop your 'title' you drop mine, Malfoy."

"So, Potter, what brings you to my lovely little part of the world? Illicit rendezvous?" Draco questioned a little more harshly than he had intended.

Harry started for a moment, his mouth working silently, trying to find an defense. 'He's just joking. No one knows about the meeting but us.' Harry reasoned as he caught himself looking back down the aisle, lingering on the doors of other compartments. 'Don't be paranoid, you'll give yourself away.'

Harry had never been very good at hiding his more intense emotions.

"You're looking rather guilty, Gryffindor."

"No… no… it's not that."

"Digging yourself deeper."

"It's nothing like that!" Harry was starting to get nervous.

"You're nervous." Draco stated coolly, even as prayed he was wrong. "That's an awful lot of denial for nothing." Draco arched a delicate eyebrow as his mind screamed that it wasn't true. "So who is it, I wonder."

Harry stared at Draco, no longer denying the truth, but there was a certain amount of comfort in the fact that the Slytherin couldn't possibly know who it was he was meeting.

'Damn it, Harry! You can't!'

"They must be very lucky to have captured the interest of the-boy-who-lived." Draco leaned back into the wall, turning his body and lifting his legs so that he took up the entire seat. It was hard not to drift back into habit when jealously and despair were eating away inside you and Draco never even noticed when he lost control of the conversations intensity.

"I thought we had dropped titles, Ferret." Harry returned.

Draco went on as if he hadn't heard the raven haired boy. "Who could it be? The Weasley girl perhaps?… No." Draco added quickly. "No need to be sneaky there. Besides she doesn't seem your type. Too obsessive and, if you don't mind me saying so, simple to have ensnared your heart."

"Leave her out of this. You don't even know her." Harry defended, even as part of him was hiding in shame. Hadn't he thought that once? Twice? Okay… it was a constant thought! She was nice and was growing up to be a fine looking girl, but she was rather suffocating and not a little annoying at times. She was more of a sister in Harry's mind and he felt bad that he couldn't give her more. He just couldn't… it wasn't in him.

"Very well, Potter. It couldn't be her anyway. Could be Granger, but…"

Something sparkled in Draco's eyes and made Harry shiver. 'Oh, God no…'

Draco gave in to the hurt. He felt reckless. He had been hurt and wanted to lash out in return. Suddenly a thought struck him and he watched Harry shudder.

Why not get an answer, end part of my torture, and score a point on the Gryffindor?

"Perhaps…" Draco's voice chilled the air, confident and deceptively conversational. "Perhaps it isn't a girl at all that has caught our savior's attention."

Harry couldn't feel his legs and the color drained from his face before he could recover himself.

Draco had his answer.

Part of the Slytherin wanted to strangle the gaping Gryffindor, tear out his heart and throw it down beside his own that lay on the floor, still and cold in its own blood. Another part, screamed to dance and jump for joy. It wasn't completely hopeless to wish for the Gryffindor's attention. Draco sat stunned in his seat, his face a mask of calm arrogance.

"Is that it, Potter? Find yourself a boyfriend?"

Harry met Draco's stare force for force, mask for mask, his face completely empty of any emotion. He would not let Malfoy have the satisfaction of seeing him stumble over his words.

"If you really must know, Malfoy…" Harry began, his words calm and cutting.

Draco couldn't help but sit up straighter against the wall at the biting tone, but his curiosity had him leaning marginally forward. So much was riding on Harry's words.

Harry steeled himself, he wouldn't be boxed in by Malfoy.

"Hiya, Harry! Sorry I'm late. It took a while to ditch Neville, Ginny, and Dean."

Whatever steel Harry had managed to build melted as the Irish laden voice rang from down the train aisle and he felt the calm and cool mask he had structure begin to heat at the edges when the comfortable weight of a hand fell on his shoulder.

God, what timing!

"Been waiting long?"

It was something in the warmth of the brown eyes that had Harry relaxing again, it was the affection and friendship in the smile that made Harry's lips curve up in response, and it was the stability of the hand on his shoulder that made Harry want to lean into it.

Draco hadn't moved. He sat there, still from shock, as he watched the exchange. It was true! He had never wanted to be more wrong in his entire life than he did right then. Draco grimaced as Harry smiled at the lanky youth, he could feel his stomach tighten and twist as the pain washed over him. Sitting back against the wall of the compartment he felt his face drain of emotion and thought.

"Finnigan," Draco ground out, his voice caught somewhere between shock and anger.

Focusing in on the voice, Seamus' eyes hardened as they turned towards it, and Draco watched as the Irish boy's hand moved over to Harry's other shoulder. Possession. Draco recognized the unconscious gesture instantly. What normally would have been a friendly and supportive embrace took on an intimacy that had Draco's jaw and gut clenching.

The lanky Irish git had his arm around Harry, his Harry.

Meeting the hard brown eyes with the cold steel of his own, he almost smirked as he watched them flicker toward the silver dangling from his ear. He could have laughed at the curiosity and astonishment that registered in the other boy's face if the situation had been less intense… less personal. The Irish youth's mask fell back into place quickly, but there was an uncertainty in his eyes and Draco watched as Seamus' hand tightened its hold on Harry's shoulder.

He wasn't the only one who noticed and Harry cast a sideways glance at the boy next to him. He had never felt so completely out of the loop. He was lost and Seamus wasn't being any help at all. Now Malfoy had enough pieces to finish the puzzle, if he hadn't already. Draco might be many things but stupid wasn't part of his personality. Harry mentally smiled, that was why Draco made such a perfect match… er… rival, he corrected, for himself.

Seamus stood there, completely clueless as Harry struggled with what was taking place. He was resizing the boy before him. That simple accessory had taken everything into a completely different and possibly dangerous perspective. He could no longer be sure of Draco's character, there was never really much thought that needed to be wasted on the Slytherin; he was Slytherin after all, add that to his being a Malfoy, and a major prick. It was easy enough to put two and two together and get four, wasn't it? But now, now he just wasn't sure and that was what was bothering him. He had to know. "Nice earring, Malfoy." He cocked his eyebrow, watching for the other boy's reaction. "Making a statement?"

Draco didn't even bat an eye, his face remained emotionless and calm. In truth he was having a hard time not smirking outright. There was uncertainty and… fear lacing the Irish boy's words and Draco knew why. Pity he couldn't cause the Gryffindor more agony, but he had an image to uphold and a role to play. "Nothing like yours I'm afraid", he answered with regret at being cheated out of this perfect moment by necessity. It had taken effort to overcome his disappointment and place the necessary disdain in the phase. "Don't worry, Finnigan, you'll get no competition from me." He let his lips curve as he added, "I'm not that desperate yet."

"That's a matter of opinion, Malfoy," Seamus spat back. He was caught somewhere between relief and disappointment; Malfoy would have made both an interesting distraction and a very dangerous liability… 'especially if'… He cast a glance at Harry before shaking his head. 'No way.'

'Not as stupid as you pretend, are you, Finnigan?', Draco mused as he watched the look Finnigan passed over Harry. "You're right about that, Finnigan." His words had a dual meaning, but he doubted the Irish boy could pick up on it. "Luckily the only opinion about me that matters is mine."

"Then you're right, it is lucky, because no one else's opinion is quite as high as your own."

"True, Finnigan." Draco answered easily as a grin curved his lips. "But then again… few of you set standards equal to my own. You lack the vision."

Seamus' face began to heat. The Slytherin wasn't reacting, he just sat there, cool and collected returning fire after every attack, and his aim was much better.

Harry began to step forward, but halted at the sound of laughter coming from behind them. Turning he watch as Pansy Parkinson, flounced into the compartment and straight toward Draco. Harry didn't even register the moment his fist clenched, but neither did anyone else, as the pug-faced girl walked easily into the blonde's presence.

"Why do you even waste you're words on these Gryffindor's?" she asked, as she ran her gaze over Draco's outstretched form. "They don't have the ability to understand. They are unequal to you and, as you clearly stated, they lack vision." She smiled, fluttering her lashes in what she considered a seductive manner, as she unabashedly moved to sit in his lap. "I, on the other hand, well… let's just say I have excellent vision."

Draco barely managed to hold back the full body shiver that wanted to tear through his body as the Slytherin girl draped herself over him. Flexing his hands, he kept them impassively at his side as she positioned herself in his lap. If he let them, his hands would have torn her forcefully from him, or, if he was lucky, they would have strangled her. Instead, he sat still and endured the torment as her arms encircled and clung to his neck, threatening to suffocate under the overwhelming scent of her gaudy and, no doubt, expensive perfume.

If the Christian belief of Hell was indeed real, he had just crossed over into it. He was damned, that was for sure. Cursed from the moment of conception, now lashed to damnation by his father's gift which stood out, branded upon his very skin in its blackness, eating away at what remained of his soul. Add to that lovely knowledge the fact that across from him stood Harry Potter, savior of the fucking world, the boy-who-fucking-lived; his own archrival of more than five years and the deepest burning pain and passion of his life, and you ended up with a form of mental torture that even Lucius could have found pleasure in executing. Of that Draco was sure of. Nothing pleased Lucius more than causing mental anguish; the more twisted and intricate, the better.

Potter stood there, watching him with no clue as to the direction of Draco's thoughts, no knowledge of what he was going through, what he felt. He stood there with his future, if not current, lover beside him, while Draco sat there strangling beneath the pressure of fate and a predestined bitch of a fiancée, her necklace hanging from his throat like a well made leash. And the best part being that he couldn't find a single way to rid himself of even a fraction of the torment. The Dark Mark was there to stay, permanently as even his power couldn't remove the brand he had willingly accepted, it was a bond, an unwanted one, but a bond none the less and he was bound to it till death. Even if he could remove it, it would be impossible to do so without attracting unwanted notice and his plans would be in serious jeopardy. Plans made for the sake of the man who stood across from him, a man who was as much a part of his torment as the mark and every bit as difficult to rid himself of. Goddess only knew how he had tried to rid himself of the enigma that was Harry Potter, the past few years of his life had been practically dedicated to that one goal. What a waste. Then, he realized, just as now, he would rather suffer than actually rid his life of Potter, he hadn't realized how much Potter had mattered to him back then, he was the one bright star in the darkness that had consumed him. The signs had been there all along, Potter was the only one that had ever mattered enough to rile him, the only one who's presence was expected, almost awaited each day. Draco had simply taken what had been there and since their initial meeting their first year, had focused and convinced himself that it was simple competition and hatred. He wished that that was all it actually was because the truth was so much more complex. The twitch of a finger against his neck had him slamming back into reality and remember one of his most tiresome pains: Pansy Parkinson. He couldn't remove Pansy for the same reason as he wouldn't remove the Dark Mark if he could, because if he did, if he deviated from the role of true if distant fiancée she would suspect his plans. He wouldn't, he couldn't, let that happen.

"Parkinson…", he managed to force out with only a hint of disdain.

Her laughter was sickening as it fell from her lips. "Dray…", she purred against his neck, "don't you think that it's about time to drop my last name between us? After all, it wont be mine much longer you know."

As if he needed reminding of their future relationship, she wiggled further into his lap, pressing against him. It was too much and this time he couldn't hold off the disgusted shudder that resulted from her actions. I man could only take so much, he reasoned as he waited for her reaction.

Pansy, far from being insulted, took the reaction for encouragement, and nipped at his ear. Giggling she whispered, "Excellent vision…".

Draco recognized the tone from the times before when she had tried to persuade him to her bed. It had only succeeded once and he had been under the influence of the Fire Whiskey, Crabbe and Goyle had snuck into the Slytherin Common Room. He was still having a problem swallowing how he had let himself get into that position that particular night. It had dawned on him a few days ago that that had been the day he had seen Harry and Cho in each other's arms after the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor game, he had always told himself that it was because of their drastic loss that day. Who had he been kidding?

"How can you talk of vision, Parkinson," Draco answered, emphasizing her last name in his emotionless tone, "when you can't even tell the simple difference between myself and the seat?"

Harry barely managed to stifle the grin that wanted to curve his lips. He and Seamus had been standing there, watching the interplay between the two before them, Seamus with an amused and pleased look on his face at the Slytherin male's dilemma and Harry with a mask of pure unconcern. Until Draco's comment, his fists had been so tight that Harry's generally stubby nails were biting into his palms.

Pansy sniffed, but chose to ignore the comment, turning her attention to the other occupants of the compartment in a effort to side herself with Draco. "You two still here? I figured even you weren't dense enough to not recognize when your presence is unwanted."

Draco stiffened. 'Apparently, they aren't the only ones, Parkinson.'

Harry looked to Draco for a moment, but the Slytherin was refusing to meet his eyes. Seamus, on the other hand, wasn't taking the statement as well as Harry was and took a step toward the Slytherin couple. Quickly Harry turned, bracing his hand on Seamus' arm, "Come on, Seamus, let's go."

Seamus stared down at Harry incredulously. How could he remain so calm?

Draco was equally surprised. Harry never backed down against him, let alone Parkinson. He was acting almost demure. Thinking back over their encounters he caught a pattern of behavior that had changed. Harry fought back… but only when his friends weren't in the immediate vicinity. At the ice-cream parlor Harry had remained silent, except for one harsh vocalization, then when he joined the Gryffindor's group it had been less apparent as whatever control he had built up began eroding with Draco's continued presence. The only times he had let himself have the satisfactory arguments had been when he had chased after Draco, his friends a safe distance away, and when they had been in the compartment alone. What had happened to cause such a transition? It hadn't been there on the last day of school or the train ride home last year.

Silently, and with seeming indifference, the Slytherin watched as Harry soothed Seamus, and inch by inch, directed the Irishman out of the compartment. Damn indifference!!! The sight before him was grating on his very nerves!!

Exasperation overtook him as Harry finally managed to exit the compartment. He could feel the headache coming on as he lifted a hand and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Parkinson, dear," he added the endearment as an appeasement of sorts, the day couldn't get any worse than it already had and his hardest obstacle was still to come. "It isn't that I don't enjoy your affection, but my legs are going numb, I have yet to change into my robes, and we have to make an appearance in the Prefect's Compartment before we arrive at Hogwarts."

And Merlin, wasn't that going to be fun? Spending time with Granger and Weasel?

But even that seemed like heaven when compared to his situation at the moment and for the first moment he was grateful for that unpleasant obligation as he felt Pansy's weight slither from him. Looking up, he watched her stand and compose herself. She had let her hands trail over him in what he assumed was a caress designed to let him know she wasn't so mad at him, and also a kind of female attempt at revenge… show him a trace of what pleasure he had passed up for an hour or more of dull company and conversation. There was a pout on her lips, but an invitation in her eye that threw off any impression actual hurt. The appeasement had worked like a charm.

Women were so easy, he mused as he watched her leave the compartment with a toss of hair and a sway of hips. Shaking his head he dutifully stood up and began getting dressed, at least during the meeting he would have a foolproof excuse to not pay attention. He had some thinking to do before they arrived at Hogwarts. Steps had to be taken…

Running a hand through his hair, "And one is about to be taken," he said to himself as he stepped out into the aisle and made his way toward the front of the train.

One had to be taken…

---

Harry smiled when he finally managed to drag Seamus out into the aisle. The compartment across the way was clear and Harry directed Seamus toward that one, pausing a moment to cast a glance back at Malfoy. He looked defeated, leaning against the wall with the pug faced girl clinging to him like a second skin. Thinking over the last image of the Slytherin he smiled and shook his head… it hadn't been defeat in the storm colored eyes but resignation, at least for the time being, and a desperate waiting. Having been his rival for the past 5 years, he knew Malfoy and Malfoy could be put out, insulted, angered, and shocked into silence, but he was never defeated.

The moment Harry stepped into the compartment all thoughts drained away with his smile as Seamus pounced on him, his voice raised several levels.

"What was that all about, Harry?! You just stood there and let that bitch bash you and your entire house!!!"

Harry sighed and let himself fall onto one of the cushioned seats as the accusations and confusion rolled from Seamus.

"What's wrong, Harry? You never let them get away with that before. Why now?" Angered more that Harry simply sat there, unmoving, practically unconcerned, and completely refusing to answer his questions Seamus let his control go, "Did you loose both your pride and your backbone over the summer?" The moment the question was out the Irish boy regretted it.

He regretted it even more when Harry's eyes met his. Fire flashed within the emerald depths, brilliant and piercing, and had cold fingers of fear and awe dancing in Seamus's gut.

"Don't…"

The voice was soft and deceivingly normal, but there was steel and fire running through the words and the look that Harry gave him had Seamus taking a step back.

Harry sat there, still and unmoving, but inside he was shaking with anger. He'd dealt with so much in the past months, never mind the pain he'd experienced his entire life. "You've no right to ask and accuse me of that. No right to ask me those questions. I am under no obligation to explain my life and my choices to you." He watched his friend, a friend he was considering a deeper relationship with, watched the fear and regret pass through those eyes, and closed his own and turned away.

"I'm sor-", Harry began.

"No." Seamus' voice cut in quickly. "No, Harry, don't." A slight smile curved the Irish boy's lips as he kneeled down in front of the boy he had asked to meet him here. "You know, you apologize way too much… and in cases where it isn't you who should apologize." The smile faltered and Seamus dared to place his hand over Harry's. "I'm the one who should be sorry, Harry. I jumped down your throat without any provocation other than hurt pride. I was mad, but not at you, and I'm sorry I took it out on you."

Yeah, he had been upset… still was in some way. He couldn't shake off the idea of Draco and what his earring could mean. He wasn't a fool; he knew how many different forms attraction took, but even allowing that there was no reason for his reaction. He had wanted Harry to take on the bitch with him, fall into the old rivalry and in a sense cement their new bond with some traditional Slytherin-bashing.

Harry smiled, but that didn't stop him from casting a look over at the door to make sure no one was outside. Then, only then, did he turn his hand over and wrap his fingers around Seamus'. He had decided to take a chance. He couldn't go on as he had been, pretending that his attraction to guys didn't exist. Pretending that his gaze was admiring the female forms rather than focusing on the angular curves and dips of the male students that passed him in the hall. It wasn't working and he didn't need the stress of that pretense added to the stress he was already feeling with the rising dark.

'One step at a time…', he told himself as he looked at Seamus.

He would accept Seamus, take a chance on the deepening of the relationship and see where that headed, but in secret. He still need time to adjust, time to find himself in this new path he was choosing. If Seamus couldn't accept that then… well, they'd been friends before and would be friends still.

"You know with you kneeling and the fact that I came here for you to ask me a question, I'm not feeling too secure with its nature." Harry smiled warmly, the cold and fire in his eyes completely gone as he watched comprehension dawn in the deep brown eyes before him. As Seamus coughed and stood up, Harry had to force himself not to laugh at the red tint the other's face had turned.

"Yeah, well…", Seamus fought for the sentence he was looking for. "Sorry to disappoint you, Harry, but I'm not going to ask you to marry me."

"Pity…", he sighed, feigning mock sadness, "and here I was picking out the china patterns, drapes and considering possible names for our adopted children." Harry grinned, the old humor flaring within his eyes before a mixed sense of uncertainty and resolution took there place. "But I think you have the right idea…", he glanced down at the hand that still held his, "we need to take this slow, step-by-step. This is… uh…", he faltered, and silently cursed himself for the lack of eloquent speech. "This is new to me."

Hope filled Seamus and he watched Harry silently, a spark kindling in his eyes as his hand tightened around Harry's, but his lips had taken on the haughty curve that had helped make him one of the sex symbols of the Gryffindor House. The disappointment and shock on the girl population of Hogwarts the day he, the Weasley Twins, and Justin had shown up the previous year with their declarations, was one Seamus would treasure forever. "I understand, Harry… I do." He remembered the way Harry had stepped back in fear from the kiss he had forced on him that night; the uncertainty and shock in his eyes had haunted Seamus the entire summer and the brief feeling of hope was intensified into desperation as he sat there with Harry. "Does that mean…?" He left the question dangling in the air, searching Harry's face for an answer.

Harry kept his face masked. The pressure on his hand had unconsciously brought back the doubts that had plagued him since that night in the Astronomy Tower and uncertainty settled over him again. His surety was gone… the answer he had been so willing to give refused to leave his throat, threatening to strangle him. Closing his eyes, Harry focused and calmed; he could feel the warmth from the hand that held his, he had seen only earnestness in the brown eyes of his friend, everything seemed well enough, but there was a warning flashing in his mind…. A hand holding him back. "Time…", he whispered as he opened his eyes and met Seamus', "give me a few more hours to think on this."

There was pleading in his eyes as he looked at Seamus and Seamus saw it. "Harry…". something softened in Seamus' face and Harry's eyes widened as Seamus' hand lifted to his face, brushing fingers through his hair before caressing his cheek. "Take all the time you need…", there was honesty behind the words and that only added to the impact as the Irishman continued, "Anyone who can't wait a few hours when it means that they might hold you in their arms after those hours isn't worth the tissue the Dark Lord wipes his arse with."

The breath that Harry had held let out in a rush that was part gasp, part laugh. "God, you're such a romantic charmer. I've never heard a more beautiful declaration. Is that what you say to all the boys?" Meeting Seamus' eyes, they shared a secret smile. "Thanks," Harry murmured. "You'll know by the end of the feast, I promise."

"No hurry, Harry."

"By the end of the feast."

There was surety in those words, both a promise to Seamus and a declaration of decision to Harry himself. Seamus deserved an answer, and Harry needed the resolution.

Seamus looked at Harry, his brows were furrowed under the strands of shaggy black hair as if in argument with himself. Harry was often found with that expression on his face, it had been a common occurrence last year, but now the expression was deeper… darker in a sense. Smiling, Seamus gave in, "Alright."

Silence fell on the compartment, an almost tangible force weighting the air between them. Harry broke the silence first.

"I better be getting back to Ron and Hermione. They said they would cut the Prefect meeting short and I need to make use of the time so I can give you my answer." The sentences hadn't come out quite like Harry had hoped and he stood up uncertainly, turning toward the door, but something held him back. Turning around, Harry stared into laughing brown eyes. Seamus had stood up with him, their hands still joining. A smile began to creep along his lips until Seamus took a step forward something brightening in the earthy depths.

Seamus knew that this moment might cost him a closer relationship with Harry, but if Harry said no, he wanted one last memory of the boy before him. Easily he reached his free hand out, letting it caress lightly through rich ebony hair, his eyes following the movement as his fingers lingering over the curve of Harry's ear, down the firm jaw line, following the curve downward to cup the back of his neck. He could feel the pulse jump and he looked up, catching the unconscious movement of Harry's tongue as it flicked out to wet his lips. That actions calmed Seamus' fears and he took another step forward, all his instincts were pushing for the pressure of Harry's lips against his own. Tilting his head forward, he almost sighed at the warmth that curved against his lips as his met Harry's.

Seamus wasn't one to ignore his instincts.

Harry drifted in that space of time that seemed to draw out as Seamus stepped closer, trailing his fingers in smooth patterns over his skin, and stepped forward again. Then there was the eternity that Harry endured before he felt the contact of Seamus' lips against his own. He didn't respond, but neither did he retreat. He accepted, gliding along the feelings that were coursing from the warm flesh of the other boy. His brief snatches of tenderness with Cho hadn't given him this feeling and this was just a simple press of lips, nothing intricate, nothing deeper…

Something inside him sighed and relaxed, giving in to the inevitable truth: he, Harry James Potter, was attracted to men… he was gay.

Seamus lets his lips slide against Harry's, not daring anything more than the simple play of skin against skin. Lingering a few more moments, he enjoyed the slight taste that was Harry Potter, it was intoxicating, exotic, and at the same time, hilariously common; it was the unconventional blend of strawberries and pumpkin juice. It was perfect.

He stepped back because he knew if he didn't he would push before Harry was ready. Grinning playfully he leaned back on his heels, jamming his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching out and forgetting about control. "I seem to have a loss of control around you, Harry," he commented easily, meeting Harry's eyes. "Should I apologize?"

He could feel the heat flooding his face, but Harry's voice was steady once he found it. "No…" It was that simple he realized even as his eyes scanned over the door of the compartment.

Seamus smiled, "Well, I better be going… Dean and the others will be wondering and you have Hermione and Ron to meet." The moment felt awkward to him and it seemed to rob him of all his witty remarks and flirtations.

"Yeah," was all Harry replied, his mind already thinking over his answer and the excuses he would make to his friends.

"Yeah…" The Irish boy parroted as he turned towards the door. "Yeah. Well." His hand touched the door, "See ya at Hogwarts, Harry."

While Seamus made his way toward his friends' compartment, mentally lecturing himself on his lack of grace, Harry exited the compartment and headed toward his own destination, his mind also occupied.

---

"I thought we left the school part of this trip back in the Perfect's Compartment along with all the other terrible parts of returning to school… like Pansy and Draco. Would you put that book up already, 'Mione?" Ron's voice cried in exasperation. "You can read it later, you know!"

"The school part of returning to Hogwarts is never 'left behind' and I want to be prepared for whatever Snape throws at us this year so, no, I can't read it later." Hermione replied, her eyes never leaving the page.

"You'll just read it again anyway…"

"I fail to see your point."

" I don't see why you can't spare a the last part of the train ride for conversation."

Hermione sighed in exasperation and she looked up closing her book slightly by keeping her index finger between the pages to mark her place. "Ron…", she tried again, pleading with her eyes that he would let her return to the book.

"Hermione…" Ron mimicked, failing to catch the plea as he raised his eyebrow.

Harry smiled as he reached the door of the compartment, listening to his friends. 'At least somethings never change,' he thought to himself as the sound of Hermione's stifled laughter reached him. Peeking in he noticed Ron's expression. Hermione could never keep a straight face when he used it.

"You know, Ron, if you used half of the energy you throw into your quidditch strategies and arguments, Draco Malfoy might have some competition for Head Boy next year."

Harry secretly smiled.

"Draco Malfoy? Head Boy?" The incredulous tone in his friend's voice had Harry forcing himself not to laugh. "I can't imagine that git representing us as the best and brightest! How? When? The only class I've ever known him to excel at is Potions and that is because he is the Professor's little pet."

Harry took the moment to step into the compartment. It was sad that Draco had broke up the playful argument. For as long as Harry could remember, Ron and Hermione had butted heads as often as they agreed and as they had aged, the arguments seemed to change, becoming a habit and to Harry something more. It was proof. They both would have denied it till the day they died, but under the flying fur and deafening screams was the foundation of true affections. Being an onlooker, he caught the intense glances or half-smiles that one would sport only when the other was occupied.

Smiling, Harry walked in, taking his seat beside Ron as he interrupted their conversation, not noticing the use of Malfoy's first name in his thoughts. "How? Easy, he worked for it… so I guess it wasn't that easy was it? When? He's always been high in the ranking, but last year he really put himself into it. Didn't you notice the lack of attention he paid us?"

Hermione was startled out of her book, closing it completely as she focused on Harry. So he had noticed Draco's change in behavior after all.

Ron simply sat there too dumbstruck to talk as he thought back over last year. He hadn't noticed anything unusual, but then, Malfoy didn't rank up there on his list of important people.

"As to him being Snape's pet, I have no comment, but I know for a fact that he's not the only one in the running for Head Boy anyway." Harry offered. "Three other boys are competing against him."

"Who?" Ron and Hermione asked in sync. Hermione sincerely interested and Ron simply hoping for someone to support against Malfoy.

"Peter O'Connor and Clef Treine from Ravenclaw."

Hermione made a sound of approval, "Malfoy's going to find some good competition in them, but who is the other competitor? Aerion Knightley?"

"No. No more Ravenclaws." Harry teased.

Ron looked confused and Hermione seemed to become seriously thoughtful.

"No one in Hufflepuff has points close enough to either Malfoy or the Ravenclaws so that leaves it to someone in Gryffindor." Hermione reasoned.

Ron seemed to brighten up at the prospect and turned to Harry. "Come on, Mate, who is it?"

"Potter."

The cool voice punctuated the air of the compartment with that one word and had all three friends turning toward the door and the three figures that filled it.

"Potter, is the other one I am up against for Head Boy next year." Malfoy explained as he leaned his left shoulder casually against the doorframe, his silver blonde hair falling carelessly across his face. Beyond him, Crabbe and Goyle had taken their usual place, flanking him, their large, hulking figures, giving Malfoy a greater look of delicacy and grace. "Isn't that right, Potter?"

Hermione, who had struggled to keep the appreciative sigh from her lips at Malfoy's appearance, turned quickly toward Harry, a new awe showing in her face. Ron barely caught anything of the conversation as he glared at the Slytherin.

Harry ignored his friends and looked calmly at Malfoy, meeting stare for stare. "It is."

"I believe you've thoroughly shocked her, Potter. She is speechless." Malfoy purred. "That's no easy feat. You must be congratulated, Potter."

Ron tensed, leaning forward. He was on the verge of speaking when Hermione cut in.

"You wasted no time in forcing your presence upon us, Malfoy."

"Wouldn't want to disappoint you, Granger." Malfoy spat.

Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle guffawed, proving to the other four that even though they had passed their NEWTS, amazingly, they still had little actual brainpower. Malfoy shot them a silencing look and they quickly complied.

Hermione on the other hand was pondering over the use of her actual name rather than the usual term of 'Mudblood' that Malfoy had become so fond of since their second year.

"At least you know that you don't face competition from those beneath you, eh Malfoy?" Ron offered, nodding toward the two cronies.

"What? Is Potter not in the running anymore?" Malfoy asked innocently, his eyes focusing back on Harry, remembering the way he had stood beside the other boy not more than an hour ago. Narrowing his eyes he continued, pleased to see both Ron and Hermione preparing to take the defensive, "Then again, I suppose Potter would be little enough competition as it is."

"Too much time having to look over his shoulder to keep his nose in a book."

Five sets of eyes widened at the thick voice, turning to see Goyle putting on a hideous imitation of Malfoy's trademark smirk. Goyle was practically glowing with the thrill of the insult and Crabbe was basking in his other half's glory.

Malfoy shot him a look that warned him not to attempt another pathetic shot at victory and Goyle looked down, shuffling his feet defeatedly.

Ron broke the silence with sarcastic awe, "So he can make complete sentences after all."

Goyle's fists clenched and he made to step into the compartment but Draco held out his arm to prevent him.

"I felt the exact same surprise, Weasel, when I saw that you walked upright, but lets not get started on my uncertainty of your evolution."

Now it was Harry's turn to hold out his arm and prevent one of his own from beginning something physical.

"Feel awfully safe behind your Saint Potter don't you, Weasel?" Malfoy hissed, resenting the protection Harry offered to the red head.

Harry stood up to fully face the blonde, but Ron was already snapping back a reply.

"I don't need him to take on a fop like you, Malfoy," Ron's hand touched Harry's shoulder in support, "but the offer of having him either before, beside or behind me is always appreciated."

Malfoy's eyes narrowed at the Weasel. The effect on Harry had been a relax in the tension he had taken when he stood and a smile curving his lips. Some question in Harry's mind had been answered, an uncertainty had been calmed; Malfoy had caused it, but Ron had answered it. Draco eyed the hand on Harry's arm with open distaste and secret envy.

"So, that brings up an interesting question, Ferret." Ron began, "What gives you courage when your father isn't here to hide behind? Those two can't be much good when you dig the hole to deep?"

"I can handle myself, Weasel!"

"Oh, of course, what with all that Evil Minion training you received this summer I don't doubt it." Hermione's prim voice chimed in.

Draco was caught between anger and amusement at the reference to the summer and the encounter in Diagon Alley, but as amusement wouldn't do, the sneer that curled his lips was the only outward emotion he allowed to show. Slightly exasperated, he raked a hand through his hair, unaware of the consequence until Hermione's gasp and Ron's barely stifled laugh had his hand stilling in mid-motion.

The earring…

"Nice accessory, Malfoy." Ron practically snorted.

Hermione ventured not to say anything, her thoughts running over the possibilities and the reasons and Harry was simply at a loss. That was twice today, the earring had been noticed openly with skepticism and curiosity.

Hermione didn't fail to notice Harry's confusion and made a mental note to talk to him as soon as possible.

"Did you figure that out as well this summer?" Ron rampaged on, a sly inference lining his words.

Draco caught the hint and colored at the insult. "Unlike you, you hypocritical Catholic shit, I don't hold to tradition when I find it meaningless. My decision was chosen years ago. This," he growled, fingering the silver loop, "is nothing more than fashion. Which, I must say, you could take a lesson in." Draco tilted his head to look down his nose at the red head. "There is some stain or other below your collar."

Ron stood up, his face the same color of his hair as he fought to push Harry out of the way. "Move, Harry. Now."

"Oh, look, Weasel. You do have fashion sense. At least you can coordinate colors well." Malfoy quirked an eyebrow and looked questioning. "How do you get your face to match the color of your hair?"

"Why you…" Ron growled.

Harry remained between the two but said nothing, merely keeping them from each other.

"Honestly, Weasley, have you forgotten how to talk so easily. A moment ago you were marveling at Goyle, now your speech is far below what he used." Malfoy shook his head sadly, "Tsk, tsk. You really are quite the hypocrite aren't you."

"At least I'm not a traitor!" Ron spat, glaring at the Slytherin with pure hatred. He had given up trying to get past Harry, he was a complete barrier between the two enemies.

Now it was Malfoy who stepped forward, his body inches from Harry's as he focused on the boy beyond. "What do you mean by that?"

The voice was low and menacing, and Draco's actions had Crabbe and Goyle cracking their knuckles, preparing for a fight.

Something cold seemed to shiver along Ron's skin, but the fire that was burning inside nullified the sensation. Harry on the other hand, felt the full force of the wave and shivered at the metaphysical touch.

Draco could feel the power overtaking him, but the anger was so strong he ignored it. In the window he could see the slight shimmer of silver and blue from his eyes, but the concern was beyond him. He could care less. Maybe if they knew how dangerous he truly was…

"Tell me, Traitor," Ron whispered harshly, so that only those in the immediate compartment could hear, "tell me, how is your master?"

Hermione and Harry both turned their heads to stare at Ron sure that he had taken the insults too far. He was risking his life by that assumption and statement.

"What are you talking about, Weasel?"

Malfoy's face had paled at the mention of Voldemort. The use of the word 'master' had his fist clenching, itching to contact with the jaw that held that smug smile across from him.

"Come on, Malfoy, tell us, have you reached your mark yet?"

Harry's eyes focused on Draco, guilt making him look to the Slytherin. Malfoy's color was gone, the lifelessness that Harry had seen on a few occasions masked his face, and his eyes seemed dull and unfocused. From the doorway he could see Crabbe and Goyle smiling openly, the idea of Malfoy in the service of Voldemort and marked seemed a highly pleasing thought, but the look on Draco's face had Harry wondering just what Draco thought of the prospect.

The cold shiver left as Malfoy stepped back, his eyes looking at nothing in particular. Harry had the sudden impulse to reach out but the touch on his shoulder had him looking back at Ron's face instead. If Malfoy's look was everything of dejection, Ron's was everything to the opposite. There was a glow of sheer triumph about Ron and Harry hated that the reason for his friend's pleasure was the same reason why he wanted to hit him.

Harry turned around in time to see Malfoy disappear into the corridor, the same lost look still plastered on his face.

Crabbe soon followed, but Goyle lingered till he was sure Draco was out of earshot. "Watch your backs, freaks." With that he waddled/ran down to join his comrades.

"That got him, it did." Ron cried exuberantly.

Hermione was too shocked to do more than nod dumbly and open her book back up to the section on nettled Wigbee wings. Harry also failed to offer the necessary enthusiasm as his mind was focused on a blonde hair Slytherin. He no longer felt himself sure about his nemesis' affiliation. Perhaps there was hope after all.

The rest of the trip passed away without incident after Ron gave up trying to get cheerful conversation about what had passed between him and Malfoy out of his friends. Malfoy may have been gone and each one doing their own thing: studying, reading, and thinking, but all their minds were on Malfoy for one reason or another…

---

Harry stepped off of the Hogwarts Express and smiled as he breathed in the air. It was cool and crisp, but the sky was clear and a full moon cast her light over the students. Above them, and further back, Hogwarts Castle stood in its slight beauty, the winking windows of light giving it a warmth and welcome. Giving the castle one last glance, Harry turned to join Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the upper years as they made there way toward the carriages. The loud, cheerful voice of the gamekeeper had the Trio stopping to catch Hagrid's eye and be waved on as he rounded up the first years for the traditional boat de across the lake.

In was the quietest walk to the carriages that the three friends had ever known; Hermione was uncertain, Ron was silently mad that his victory wasn't praised, and Harry was thoughtful and silently reveling in the return the Hogwarts.

Harry watched as the carriages were filled. Seamus had positioned himself near Harry, Ron, and Hermione, so it had left a hole in the carriage that Ginny, Dean, and Neville were sharing. A raven haired girl took his place. Harry thought he had heard Ginny say the name 'Celes' and the words 'transfer student' when Ron asked before she had gotten into the compartment.

'That's something new," Harry thought as he paused by his own carriage, holding the door open for the other three, he looked further up the line of, what to other students appeared to be horseless carriages. Since last year, Harry had joined the few students who could see the creatures that pulled the carriages. Thestrals, Hagrid had told the class when he had attempted to introduce them to the fifth year classes, and they could only be seen by those who had view death. Ever since Cedric's death, Harry had been able to see the skeletal creatures.

There was a certain beauty to them, but that wasn't what caught Harry's eye. Two carriages up, just in front of Ginny's carriage, Malfoy was standing beside on of the creatures, his hand moving over what Harry could only term the flank. The thestral seemed calm, its white eyes focused on the blonde beside it.

"Hey, Harry, you coming?" Ron's voice burst through the wall of thought.

"Yeah, just a s-" Harry began but Ron had already leaned out the door to see what Harry was looking at.

"What's Malfoy doing?"

"He appears to be petting the thestral in front of his carriage." Harry said easily as he began to get in, hoping Ron would be persuaded to go back in.

No such luck.

"Can't you only see those if you've seen someone die?" There was the sly tone that he had used earlier in his voice and had Harry's knuckles blanching around the door..

"Yes, Ron."

Even Ron wasn't so far gone not to catch the warning in Harry's voice. "Sorry, mate, but wouldn't that mean Malfoy has watched someone die?"

"I suppose so." Harry murmured as he moved past Ron, casting a sideways glance at the Slytherin before taking his seat beside Seamus.

After a few moments, Ron pulled back into the compartment and sat beside Hermione. "It just makes me wonder, that's all, you know."

They all knew what Ron meant, even Seamus knew Ron enough to guess what he was insinuating, but unlike Hermione who refused to talk for principle, Harry who was still thinking over what he had seen and doing his best to ignore his best friend, Seamus was willing to carry on a conversation about Malfoy's more shady qualities.

Glad to have a partner in degrading Malfoy, Ron carried on with Seamus unconcerned that the other two in the carriage were less than impressed as they made their way up to Hogwarts.

---

"Malfoy, come on!" Pansy's shrill voice called out from up the stairs.

He had lagged behind purposefully. He was still berating himself for the confrontation he had caused and was even more angry that he had let Weasley get at him like that. That one statement had been a reminder of what everyone who knew him was thinking and, he thought, remembering his arm, they weren't far wrong. Only in that respect though. He wasn't some underling, scrambling for scraps at the feet of the Dark Lord. He wasn't trapped in the endless cycle of desire for power that his father had fallen into. He would ever be that… 'pathetic', he finished as he caught up with Pansy.

"Dray… come on." She purred as she slipped her arm through his. "Lets get this formality over with. I have some things I want to talk over with you…"

Sighing, Draco made his way into the Great Hall, filing down to the Slytherin table to take his seat at the head of the table near the teacher's table. Settling in, he ignored the brush of Pansy's thigh against his under the table and let his gaze wonder down his own table, taking in the count of those in Voldemort's ranks and those that there was still hope to save. None but him and Parkinson had been 'gifted' with the Mark, but that didn't mean there weren't others mired in the darkness that the Dark Lord had spun.

He had to take tally… it would be helpful information.

Sliding his eyes away from his house peers, he let his gaze fall on Potter as he entered. He was surrounded as usual by the other parts of his Trio, and more indistinctly by the rest of Gryffindor, but one was walking closer to Harry, in the circle of the Trio. Finnigan!

Draco's eyes snapped open as he felt the eyes of another on him. Turning he met Dumbledore's open gaze. There was that same damn sparkle in his eyes behind the half-moon glasses. Dumbledore always seemed to know too much and that had always irritated him, but now it didn't. Tossing the old man a smirk he looked back to his own table. The old man didn't know everything, but Draco could help with that…

"I hate that old man. He watches us too close, Draco." Pansy hissed.

"He's no threat, Parkinson. Keep your voice down and your thoughts to yourself."

Pansy pouted but took the warning and turned back to talk with Millicent Bullstrode.

Draco turned back to the front as Professor McGonagall filed in the new first years.

---

Harry was seated between Seamus and Hermione at the head of the Gryffindor table, Ron across from the three with Ginny and Dean flanking him. All of them had taken the traditional moment of looking around the Great Hall. The floating candles, the gold and silver china, and of course the dark cloudless sky, complete with full moon that the ceiling mirrored from outside. It was all warmth and familiarity and yet it held as much wonder for Harry as it had the day he had first entered.

Ginny was on the topic of Celes with the other five when Harry finally came around and chimed into the conversation. "Celes who?"

Everyone turned to Harry and he felt himself flush.

"I knew he wasn't listening." Ginny teased, smiling at Harry. "Celes D'Valynier. She's a transfer student from Beaubaxton."

"Go on from where you left off, Ginny. It's Harry's own fault that he was of in Neverland." Dean urged, but both Ron and Ginny were confused and it took another ten minutes of explaining what he meant by Neverland before the topic was picked back up.

"Well…" Ginny began again.

"Where is she?" Harry piped in, not having paid attention during the Neverland topic and so loosing track again.

Frustrated Ginny scowled and was on the verge of speaking again when Hermione interrupted.

"The first years…"

Everyone turned and Ginny forgot about being annoyed to focus in on the Sorting.

The Sorting Hat was placed down on the stool and McGonagall had taken her place respectfully behind it, when the deep, wispy voice of the hat called out across the room.

"We gather here in darkening times

Though many would deny

For knowledge must pass ever on

Or so the teacher's try

Though a thousand years have passed

The boundaries still run deep

And by division to four houses

Our prejudice we keep

Four united; Four divided

Together we must stand

Wizards of the past and future

Once again must band

Tradition carries Hogwarts on

And tradition must remain

Thus upon this stool you'll sit

And I shall pick your brain

Sure I am a tattered hat

Battered and dulled by time

But I've a brain beneath the brim

Knowledge that spans all time

What shall I see inside your head?

What traits will you prove to me?

Which wizard would have valued you?

In which house shall you be?

Would Gryffindor have preferred you?

In Gryffindor House will you be?

Where daring and bravery are valued

Along with nerve and chivalry.

Or would it have been Ravenclaw

And to her house you will belong

Knowledge and wit is ever prized

And there you can't go wrong.

Hufflepuff is pleasant enough

And she chose her students with care

Ever loyal and patient are they

Who dwell in friendship there

Perhaps Slytherin would better suit

The cunning and ambition of your heart

Slytherin valued both of those

And here you could have your start

All four equal in tradition

Equal in prestige and fame

But to one alone will you belong

Divided by only a name

But I caution you all who enter

And all who here belong

Divided you are still united

And united you are strong

So step on up and begin

The sorting of the young

So I may sleep another year

Now that my song is sung"

Silence descended upon the Hall, awe pressing upon the students. Even the teacher's seemed amazed at the lyrics of the hat. Then it happened, it burst upon the room in a wave of noise that left the walls echoing. The applause was unanimous and even Slytherin House joined in enthusiastically. The Sorting Hat had out done itself this year.

As the applause died down, McGonagall stepped forward again, parchment in hand and began calling up the new students.

Harry watched, remembering his own nervousness when he had sat before the school and had the hat placed upon his head. It had suggested being placed in Slytherin and that was something he never forget, as much as he might like. Dumbledore could brush it away but it was still there at the back of his mind.

When the last student stepped down and made her way toward the Ravenclaw table McGonagall continued to stand before the Hall, making no movement to remove the stool or the hat. The change in ritual, had all eyes focusing on the Professor.

"We are privileged this year in having a transfer student from Beaubaxton joining us here at Hogwarts this year and as Beaubaxton does not have the same sorting system as we do, she has agreed to be sorted with the first years in front of the school."

"I couldn't very well have it said that a bunch of first years were braver than I am could I?"

The voice answered from the doors to the side of the teacher's table and all eyes turned toward it. McGonagall seemed almost shocked to have been interrupted, but the intruder seemed unconcerned enough as she stepped into the hall and toward the Professor.

She was about 5'7" on a frame that was willow thin and just as graceful. Ebony water fell down her back in a waterfall of rich hair, tucked behind both her ears. Her voice was a mixture of rich English and deep French, but it wasn't her hair, her figure, or her voice that made Harry stare. It was her eyes; laughing and brilliant they were a light shade of blue-grey that only one other person had ever owned… Malfoy. They were the same eyes. The exact same he almost swore when they met his momentarily before meeting Ginny's and smiling as she waved.

Ginny waved back and turned hurriedly back to her friends. "I hope she is in Gryffindor," but she didn't listen long enough to hear a reply as she turned back and watched the girl.

"Celes D'Valynier", McGonagall introduced primly.

Celes only smiled and made her way toward the stool and took her seat like the others before her.

The entire Hall seemed to quiet again as they waited for the Hat to pronounce her house. Ginny could be seen crossing her fingers and because Ginny seemed to really like the girl, Harry too hoped she would be place in Gryffindor.

The moments moved on in excruciating pain.

Celes simply smiled.

Hermione whispered to Harry that the only one known to have taken this long to place had been he himself.

Harry looked at the girl wondering if the house was talking her about two different houses. She didn't seem torn or worried as he had felt.

Her smile seemed to widen but still time went on until…

"SLYTHERIN!"

The one word boomed out across the Hall and silence reigned for a full ten seconds as the result sunk in. At the Slytherin table a blonde figure stood up and began to applaud warmly as Celes made her way toward the Slytherin side of the room. The rest of the Slytherin table joined in as the two figures stood facing each other.

The rest of the room burst out in a hum of noise, Ginny looking shocked and disappointed as she turned away to look questioningly at Hermione. Hermione simply shrugged and continued watching the girl across the room.

"Draco…"

The word was soft but everyone was so focused on Celes that it wasn't lost on any of them.

There were several audible gasps as Draco smiled.

"Celes…"

"Malfoy smiled!" Ron exclaimed, "Did Malfoy just actually smile? Not sneer, not smirk, not grin, but actually smile?"

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it…" Hermione whispered.

"Then don't look now but she is hugging him and I think he is actually hugging him back." Seamus' voice was filled with denial.

True enough, Celes had her arms locked around Draco's shoulder's and Draco to complete the gesture had his arms linked around her waist. They were practically mirror images, but for the hair color and obvious differences in their figures.

Draco was the first to pull back and had Pansy move further down so that Celes could be seated by him.

"What do you think all that was about?" Ginny whispered.

"I don't know, but Parkinson isn't too happy with her existence at the moment. That is for sure." Dean added, attempting to lighten the mood.

"How do they know each other?" Ginny continued, in obvious denial.

"I don't know." Hermione tried to offer.

"She is too nice. Has such a pleasant and open personality. How can she know Malfoy? How can she be so close as to hug him? Why is she in Slytherin?"

Hermione shook her head at Ginny, "I don't have any idea, Ginny. They are the only ones who would know. You'll just have to ask them if you want to know."

Harry watched intently as Draco picked up an energetic conversation with the new girl. His mind was echoing Ginny's, but he would be the last to admit that there was anything he was curious to know about Draco Malfoy.

He was so intent on watching the two that he missed most of Dumbledore's opening speech and focused in only in time to hear something about the third floor corridor being off limits once again. From the looks Ron and Hermione were giving him, they were thinking back to their first year and what had taken place.

"What could Dumbledore be doing closing that off again?" Hermione thought out loud as the food materialized on the table before them.

"I don't know, 'Mione. Maybe he's found a stone that turns men into chickens and is trying to keep it from You-Know-Who, so that he wont be able to fulfill his plans to conquer the market on poultry." Ron offered, but Harry could tell that his thoughts were back at the dangerous chess game they had played.

Harry turned to look at Dumbledore, but he was deep in conversation with Professor McGonagall. Shrugging Harry looked back to the food before him as he began loading his plate. He almost dropped the roll at the sudden press of Seamus' knee against his own. Forcing himself not to blush, he set the roll back down and remembered that he still had an answer to give. Looking back up, he watched as Celes offered Draco a strawberry tart and Draco smile as he took it.

The sight had him looking back at his plate, his face drawn and focused as he came to a decision. Glancing over at Seamus he caught a warm smile and looked back down at his plate, but how to tell him without drawing attention…

Reaching inside his robe he brought his wand out and taking a chocolate starr, whispered a few words and placed his wand back in his robes. Turning to Seamus, he held out the starr, "You've got to try this…"

Startled, Seamus took the starr, looking at it, confused for a moment until the spell began to work and his eyes widened with understanding.

"Yes, I will… Meet me in the Tower tonight." Flashed across the surface of the chocolate starr twice before disappearing.

Seamus turned to Harry and grinned as he popped the starr into his mouth. Harry returned the smile, pleased as much from his decision as from the fact that everyone was none the wiser. In happy ignorance he turned back to his dinner, eating without the slightest worry at being discovered.

But from across the room, Malfoy frowned as he bit into the strawberry tart.

Hermione watched both…

TBC…

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I really enjoyed writing this and I really hope you review my work. I have to say that I loved writing the Sorting Hat's song thought…

Please Read and Review! Please!!!

I hope it wont take so long to get the next chapter out but I don't know if I can top this one *looks back over the chapter and sighs* It will be hard… I'll try though

Blessed Be!