Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters,places et al.are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: There it is, a new chapter :) I hope you enjoy it. Now I can happily relax through my Christmas holidays :D Thanks again to rosemarie farie for beta-ing :)

Chapter 12

As he strolled down the main street of Hogsmeade side-by-side with Draco, Harry felt relaxed, especially after the disaster in the common room.
It was late afternoon and still quite sunny for an October day. Even some birds could be heard chirping. Hogsmeade itself was throbbing with people, a lot of them Hogwarts students. He had to chuckle at those students who were enjoying their first Hogsmeade trip, gleefully glued to shop windows, laughing and joking. The older students were less avid, but still having their share of fun. And they seemed to steer away from Harry and Draco ever so slightly.
"Have we ever been so young?" Harry asked Draco, who made his best attempt at hiding his amusement.
"Certainly not, Harry. A Malfoy would never be seen having fun outside a dark and closed chamber. That's not becoming of nobility," Draco answered dead-serious. Only the glitter of humour in his eyes betrayed him.
Harry quirked an eyebrow and chuckled. "Have you ever thought about taking that stick out of your ass? Must be getting painful over time."
"Oh do shut up," Draco pouted. "There's no stick in me." He wickedly grinned. "Yet."
Harry shortly lost his focus and nearly tripped over his own feet. "Uh-what-what did you just say?" he stammered. He can't have meant…? Am I really on a date? Oh Merlin…
"Never you mind," Draco answered, smiling innocently. "Where do we want to go now, anyway?" he went on without a pause.
Still a bit of track, Harry took some seconds to recover his thoughts. "Wherever you want… I have no preference, really."
"Are you in the mood for a bit shopping?" Draco asked. Before Harry could open his mouth to say anything, Draco went on. "I thought so, too. Let's do it!" he cheerfully said. Before Harry knew it, Draco was off for an intercept course for Honeydukes with Harry in tow.

Nalfayn was on the verge of throwing up. He now remembered why he hated Hogsmeade that much. This friendliness, the gaudiness, happy people all around him as he followed the Malfoy boy, it made him sick. He had always preferred to stay within the castle back in his school days.
And the boy didn't help it, either. He followed him and his companion around Hogsmeade, always hidden within the masses. How could anyone like to buy things that much? The boy must have been in each and every shop in Hogsmeade; and given the cloud of bags that surrounded him and his friend, the shops must be close to empty now.
But he had to follow them. His master had been quite explicit in the orders he sent him. The young Malfoy was to die slow and painful (and if he could torture some knowledge about his father out of him before his demise, all the better). It should be an example, a clear signal to others who might be wavering in their support for the Dark Lord. But for this to happen, he must get him alone. He could do it right here, now, of course, but that was the shortest path to Azkaban. So he had to wait to get his prey alone or lure him away from his companion. He still had time. He was patient.
"Can we rest now?" Harry sighed as he dragged what seemed to be a whole warehouse behind him. "I'm close to dropping dead, right now."
"The Boy Who Lived, defeated by a shopping tour?" Draco snickered. "We can't allow that to happen, now can we? I guess a butterbeer will cheer you up again," he changed course for the Three Broomsticks.
It felt still a bit strange to him. Just having a blast, joking around, with a Malfoy. Didn't he have a task, a destiny? Was he untrue to himself? It just felt so good. Oh Sirius… If you just could be here and help me.
His thoughts were drawn back to the present as he suddenly was in the Three Broomsticks. It was packed but not unpleasantly so. The warm light of candles and the wooden décor made it hard for anyone to not feel strangely comfortable in here. Draco manoeuvred them through the other guests with a somnambulistic surety straight to a table in the back of the Broomsticks. Miraculously, it was untaken, and two butterbeers were standing on it. Harry looked quizzically at Draco.
"Advanced planning," he answered with a smile. "I thought we might end here, so why not reserve a table, huh?"
"Wicked mind of yours," Harry tipped an immaterial hat. He let himself fall into the bench and sighed deeply. "Finally," Harry stretched his legs under the table. "I think my feet may recover."
"Wimp," Draco taunted. "You wouldn't last a second with my mother. I tell you…"
"My shopping experiences are sadly limited, I have to admit that."
"Except this summer? You made quite the progress with your clothes."
Harry looked almost proud. "Thanks. Never believed it before, but the difference between bog-standard robes and hand tailored ones is really distinct."
"'I told you so' doesn't even begin to describe my thoughts," Draco grinned.
Harry reached for his mug but short of it, his fingers touched Draco's hand reaching out for his own mug. The second it happened, a jolt seemed to ripple from his fingertips to his body. What was that? In shock, his hand snapped back, his head whipped around and his eyes locked with the silver-grey ocean of Draco's eyes. "Did you-" he began to speak.
"Feel something?" Draco's shaky voice answered.
"Yes," Harry answered coyly.
"Yes, I did," Draco whispered.
Slowly, without taking his eyes away from Draco, his hand moved forward, searching, feeling it's way carefully, until he felt another hand. It felt soft, warm. It felt inviting…
Not shying away this time, he grabbed it. Draco's face dissolved into a warm smile, and Harry felt waves of diffuse happiness flow through his body.
"I-" Harry tried to speak again, but just didn't know what to say. He was confused, surprised by his own feelings and emotions. And yes, he felt something for Draco. He had for quite some time, he was sure of that now, but hadn't had the guts to admit it to himself. Feelings bring pain. That he had learned. But when he looked into these eyes his resolve wavered like a tent in a hurricane. "Do you- I mean, what is happening?"
"I think it speaks for itself, doesn't it," Draco said with the softest of voices, nuzzling Harry's hand. "I wasn't sure about this. But now I am."
"What? This? You…planned for that?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"Sort of, at least," Draco meekly answered. "I had those feelings, and I felt you had some, too. At least there was this intangible tension. I had to act, I was about to go crazy…"
"I-I know what you mean. I felt that, too." Harry slid closer to Draco. "Have you done something like this before? I mean, those feelings and all…"
"I thought I had," Draco answered, his eyes grew cold for a second. "But it was all fake, not real. I know that now. Pansy, I mean Parkinson, just wanted to be close to me because of who I am, or was, to be precise. But those feelings never were this…"
"Honest," Harry interjected.
"Yes, honest," Draco nodded, "that fits. But it is hard to see through it, through all those ass kissers and sycophants. But then again, I never tried to, in the first place. I always assumed they were, well, friends. Turns out they're just interested in my family's status, the power it conveys. Now that's down the drain…"
"Must have hit hard to realise…" Harry stretched out his other hand and carefully touched Draco's cheek. As he touched, Draco leaned into the touch.
"So, Harry looked at Draco with a weird look on his face, "does that mean…you and me…?"
"Dating? A couple?" Draco smiled again, flashing his perfect teeth, "yes, if you want?"
Thoughts raced through his mind like lightning bolts. Did he want this? He couldn't risk another life. Whoever came close to him would only suffer for what Harry was.
"I really do," Harry sighed, tears in his eyes, "but I can't. I can't just have you risk your life by being with me. Don't you see it? Everyone around me dies, gets hurt. You would be better of without me."
"No, I wouldn't. And it would be my risk to make, and I'm willing to do it with every fibre of my heart."
Before he could retort, Draco closed in, until he could feel his hot breath on his cheeks. And then their lips gently touched. It felt as if a high energy current suddenly discharged, but this time he didn't shy away. His lips were so soft and full. His other hand grabbed Draco's head and pulled him tight to his body. He felt something stir deep within himself, like something huge just woke up as he kissed him, like the proverbial sleeping dragon.
"Hah!" A triumphant shout ripped Harry from the blissful dream of a kiss back into the harsh reality. "I knew it," a voice hollered. Harry slowly turned his head around and saw Ron proudly standing near their table, with a shocked Hermione next to him. "The Dark Freak is snogging ferret face. How low can you sink?"
Harry felt rage boil up in him. "Ronald," he said, his voice showing no signs of his inner hurricane of emotions, "haven't you listened what I told you in the common room? You're too stupid to even realise a threat, do you?"
"I don't give a shit for your threats, you fruitcake," Ron shouted. "Getting cosy with the enemy. No, no. You are the enemy."
"The only thing that currently saves you is the fact that I feel quite comfortable where I am. But it would a wise move to not further test my patience. You have had your moment, now can you please leave? I'm a bit busy here with Dr-, with my boyfriend."
"Come Ron," Hermione nagged from behind, "it's not worth it. Come, let's go somewhere else. We're not welcome here."
"Ok," Ron said to Hermione and as he walked away, pointed at Harry. "I'll get you, someday," he said in a low voice. Then Ron and Hermione were out of sight.
"Yes, one day," Harry whispered.
"You're serious?" Draco nudged him. "About us?"
"Yes," Harry slowly said. "Yes, now I am."
Nalfayn had endured this whole scene for as long as it had lasted. If he had another butterbeer, he would spray the whole location with his vomit. And watching the boy play lovebird with another boy. Merlin, it was disgusting.
Not that same-sex relationships were something uncommon. No, in that respect the wizarding world was just like the muggle world. But it was still unorthodox to openly show it for a child of such an esteemed family. Normally things like that were kept hidden from public eye, like almost every other private detail. But the young Malfoy seemed to spit on the old traditions with a happy smile on his face. How the mighty have fallen…
He would pay for it, of course. If only he got his chance to strike, that is. The other boy was almost glued to him and they haven't moved from the table for hours it seemed.
He was just about to seriously consider dropping his masquerade and just kill him and everybody else and be done with it, when the other boy stood up. He said something to the Malfoy boy, who seemed to be pouting now, and walked in the general direction of the bathroom.
I won't get a better chance.
Nalfayn acted. He lifted himself from his hiding spot and without saying a word stood next to the bench his prey sat on and quickly had his wand out and pressed into Malfoy's side.
"Don't say a word," he whispered while faking a warm smile. "That's a wand in your back and I have no qualms killing you here. Just smile and nod, understood?" He pressed his wand further in to reinforce his threat."
Draco complied.
"Good boy," Nalfayn coolly said. "Now slowly get up and then we will walk out of here. No word from you. If you try to flee, you're dead."
"What you want from me?" he asked frightened.
"That is not your concern yet, just do as I say."
"And if not? What if I refuse to leave with you?"
"Oh," Nalfayn answered with a weird smile on his face, "you wouldn't want your boyfriend to die painfully before your very eyes, now would you?"
"You wouldn't-" the boy stammered, "Not in front of all these people…"
"Try me," Nalfayn gripped the boy's arm. "Now, move."
The fear he might actually do as he said made the boy move. Nalfayn walked closely behind him, his wand always pointed at the back of the boy. As he walked out of the Broomsticks, he ushered the Malfoy boy towards the end of the village and the treeline.

When Harry came back from the bathroom, he was surprised to not find Draco waiting for him. Maybe he was getting some drinks?
Harry sat down and waited. After about five minutes, he got a bit nervous. Five minutes later, he was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and about to freak out.
He got up and went looking for Draco in the Broomsticks, but he couldn't find him.
He asked around if anyone had saw Draco. An older man near the door seemed to have seen him. "Almost as tall as me, long blond hair, good looking?"
"Yeah, kinda like tha'," he answered, "seemed like fairly nice bloke, left with an ol'er man. Really ugly one, but they seemed t' be friends. At least both were smiling as they left."
"When?" Harry snapped.
"Kinda like fifteen, twenty minutes ago I guess."
"Thanks," Harry said as he stormed out of the Three Broomsticks.
His mind raced. Draco, leaving with an older man he didn't know? He would have waited for me. Something is terribly wrong here… I need to find him, quickly. As if on command, his panic subsided and got replaced by a professional calm, the cold, uncaring, new Harry.
But where was he to look? His head whipped around. But there were just too many people there, and none looked like Draco. Footsteps were everywhere, nothing distinct.
Suddenly, he felt something, like a beacon calling to him, a feeling of direction. Like a moth was drawn towards the light, so was he towards this direction. Slowly at first, then running, he trusted his intuition. But was it intuition? It was so precise, so powerful…
Quickly, he left the village behind and rushed at first through a sparse line of trees, then a thick forest. He lost track of time, only this throbbing beacon in his mind counted.
When he heard voices, he stopped dead. He concentrated his mind and was able to make out two distinct sources of sound. One was a deep voice, speaking slowly and carefully. The other one was a whimpering sound, like someone was in deep pain. Draco!
Harry pushed his emotions back into a corner of his mind and his cold, calculating intellect locked them carefully in. No foolish actions like the old Harry would have done. Only calculated risks and plans…
The forest was quite dense here and he couldn't sense nor feel anyone else present. He took out his wand and a grim determination settled in place on his face.
"Obtenebra maxima!" he weaved a short but complex pattern with his wand and suddenly, the forest around him was dark, the surroundings loosing all colour, all remnants of light as if the world just drowned in a sea of nothingness. For Harry's eyes, everything was a ghost-like shadow of itself. The trees were wavy pillars of a white smoke, the ground an ocean of swirling clouds of gas and smoke. He heard an outcry of astonishment and what seemed to be cursing. Harry just smiled and started walking.

"Crucius!" Nalfayn proclaimed with profound disgust in his voice. Ahead of him, hanging from the bough of a tall oak, the Malfoy boy whimpered. So far, the boy had shown to be quite resilient. He had even managed to resist the Imperius curse. That blasted boy had obviously been practising. Either with his mother, what he suspected, or the father. But if the easy road was closed to him, he still had other options. And it was only a matter of time and patience until he reached a level of pain sufficient enough to break the boy.
"Now, talk, and I will end it," he baited him. All he got as an answer was yet another whimper. He didn't even have enough life left in his body to scream. He was getting close…
"You're doing yourself a favour if you end it quickly. I have time. Just tell me what you know about your fath-" Something was very wrong here. A strange feeling crept out of the woods behind him. He slowly turned around. The only thing he saw was a wall of darkness come crashing towards him like a huge wave. Then there was only blackness. Nothing. He was blind. His mind raced. He had no clue what just had happened, but it was no good sign. He whipped around, pointing his wand manically around, trying to hear something. When he finally did, he shivered.
"Now, now, now," a cold voice suddenly spoke from around him coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time like a ghost. "You picked the wrong one, my friend. But don't worry; there won't be enough time for you to regret it." A harsh laugh erupted. He took his wand, and cast killing spells wildly around him.
"The secrets of the darkness and shadows are powerful friends to have. I still don't know why they're nothing more than obscure knowledge nowadays. Because it's quite difficult to kill someone if you can't see, isn't it?" A stab of pain in his right leg made him stumble as a charm hit him. "Not that I have the same problem," the bodiless voice chuckled from behind him. "Petrificus Totalus!" was all he heard, and then he dropped like a stone.
As if it had never been there, the blackness vanished and he looked up in the face of the boy Malfoy had been with. And he smiled toothily at him. He went out of his field of view and from the sounds of it freed the Malfoy boy, then he was back with him again.
Now the boy was only barely controlling rage and anger, and it was directed at him. He bowed down and pulled up his right sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark.
"Sent to kill Draco? But why? Why would he kill the son of Lucius?" The dark-haired boy asked and then it seemed to dawn on him. "Oh, state an example? Voldemort must be getting desperate if he has to kill the son of Lucius Malfoy to keep the others in check, and especially desperate, if he sends someone like you. There I was, hoping for a worthy opponent, and all I got was you. Pity. But now, tell me, where is the Dark Lord? You must certainly know." With a flick of his wand, he allowed Nalfayn to speak.
"I won't tell you anything," he spat.
"Ah ,yes," the boy actually smiled. "I was hoping you might say that." The wand pointed at his face. "Crucius," he said it almost lovingly.
Nalfayn tried to control himself, but it was too much, too powerful. He screamed, screeched like a stuck pig. When the pain vanished he gasped for air and opened his eyes again. The young Malfoy now stood very weakly next to the black-haired one, blood dripping from his lips and a deep cut in his temple.
"Harry, don't…" he said weakly.
"Shhh," The boy called Harry hushed his former prey. Harry…He can't mean Potter? He looked up and frantically searched the face of him. When he saw glimpses of the lightning scare, he froze. He could have killed the arch nemesis of the Dark Lord. He had been just inches away from him the whole time. His face distorted into a mask of frustration and pain.
"Oh, you didn't know?" The boy he now knew to be Potter laughed. "Oh, the irony. Sent to kill Draco, you completely missed me. Some killer you are…" He shook his head. "Now, where have we stopped?" He playfully scratched his temple with the wand. "Ah yes, Voldemort's hide-out. Please, tell me…"
"I can't tell you, Potter," he said through clenched teeth. "No one knows. I'm not the keeper of the secret. You can torture me all you want, it won't change that."
"Well, we can arrange for that, surely." Potter chuckled. Young Malfoy stood beside him and was too weak to say anything it seemed. "But I don't have time to play and if you say the truth – and I would think you do, Voldemort wouldn't be stupid enough to have a plotable and findable hide-out, after all – you're now quite useless to me. And after what you did to my boyfriend here…" He pointed the wand again at him. "Avada Kadavra," was the last thing Nalfayn ever heard.