Author: Masqued

Rating: PG-13(To be safe.)


Chapter Summary: A deeper look into Harry and Draco's pasts. Sirius has an old lover. Draco and Harry have their first snog.

Title: When the Wounds Mend

Apologies: I want to apologize for the lengthiness of the first chapter. I realize some people are not up to a long read, but I found the information in it necessary to any of the readers of this story for later chapters. Please do forgive me, the chapters following the first are not going to be as long-winded, I promise. Hopefully.

Also, I also will let you know that the… quickness of the previous chapter, as well as this one, are for a reason, because the following chapters are going to be very… slow, to say the least. These past two chapters are more along the lines of the prologue for this story.

Disclaimer: Sorry, plots mine, no stealing. All characters are J.K. Rowlings!  Grr. Pretty Malfoy!

--

"Dad, where are we going?" A little boy squirmed under his seatbelt on the left side of his father's automobile, which was smoothly riding down a common street. The boy leaned up to his left and peered out of the window to examine the streets, trees, and pedestrians that were cluttering the sidewalks of the busy neighborhood.

"Son, I have to ask a favor of you." The little boy's father turned to look at his son momentarily before returning his gaze to the road.

The little boy, who now was staring unblinkingly at his father, nodded his head.

"Yeah?" The stern, unflinching expression of the older man caused the little boy to prohibit himself from squirming in his seat and sit up at attention, hoping his father would take him seriously.

"Where we are going today, you are not allowed to tell anyone we've been to, all right?" The little boy nodded his head slowly, then whipped a grin over his features to reassure his father. "Good."

They continued to drive in silence, and the little boy grew restless. Where was his father taking him? Was it a surprise? Maybe it was a new house for his Mother! Oh, that would be grand. She would be so thrilled! The small boy could barely contain his excitement. A wide grin continued to grow over his features as he thought of the possibilities of where his father was driving him to.

Finally, the car lurched to a stop in front of a very quaint, tiny house, paling in comparison to the house the little boy lived in. A frown creased on the boy's forehead. Maybe he wasn't here for a house for his mother. Perhaps he was here for something better. He looked to his father, but the older man did not look back. The little boy squirmed in his seat again.

"Lets go." The little boy fumbled with his seatbelt lock, swung open the car door, and hopped out onto the sidewalk.

"I just want you to take him with you, Honey!' The little boy's mother was staring sternly at his father. "Spend time with him, for goodness-sake!" The boy's father took in a sharp breath.

"It's business. I can't bring him with him, he'll get in the way."

Business it was, but not the kind the small boy had been expecting. Apparently his father feared getting in trouble with his mother, and as such, brought the boy toward the house with him.

His father knocked swiftly on the door, still not even bothering to glance at his son.

A beautiful woman came to the door and swung it open. In her hands was a glass that she was drying with a towel, but she dropped it at the sight of the boy's father.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" She questioned, still unable to move. A sneer came across the boy's father's lips.

"What do you think I'm doing here?" He asked in question, a simple expression adorning his features.

"I think you're wasting your time." She bent down to grab the shards of the broken glass into her hands, but was met yet again, face to face with the boy's father.

"I don't." The little boy gasped as his father grabbed the beautiful woman by the shoulders and forced his lips upon her own. She struggled to leave his embrace, but it was fruitless as they were both still kneeling down. The struggle only resulted in her almost tipping over.

"Get – off – me!" She hissed, not allowing herself to return the kiss she was having forced upon her lips. Her teeth remained clenched as he pressed his lips further onto her own.

"Dad…" the little boy was looking at his father in hurt and shock. His father pushed the beautiful woman away from him with a harsh shove and stood up.

"Lily, this is my son, Draco." Lily, as the beautiful woman was now introduced as, stepped back through the doorway of her house and prepared to shut the door.

"Hello, Draco," she managed a warm yet very fake smile to the young Draco Malfoy as he still stood, fidgeting.

"Hello, Ms-"

"Mrs. Potter." Draco nodded.

"Hello Mrs. Potter." Apparently Draco's father was not pleased with her title.

"You shouldn't be with this lazy-" Draco's father was cut off.

"Honey! Who's at the door?" The swinging sound of a back, screen door caused Lucius Malfoy to stop speaking and place a façade of happiness on his face.

"Lucius Malfoy, dear," she stressed the word 'dear', keeping a strong glare in Lucius's general direction.

"Oh, well, invite him in." The words didn't seem too inviting, yet Lucius gladly accepted and waltzed into the house.

"This way, boy." Draco hopped to and followed his father into the house. Draco was now beginning to realize why his father had made him promise not to say anything to his mother.

"Draco, dear, would you like to watch some TV?" Draco nodded enthusiastically and followed Mrs. Potter into her living room, where she flicked on a small TV and pushed the volume up on a cartoon that was bouncing happily.

Draco was barely attentive. He wanted to know what was being said in the kitchen between his father and the Potters. He was intrigued, to say the least, but knew the consequences of his actions if he chose to sneak in and listen. So, settling himself on the warm, dark green fuzzy couch, Draco allowed himself to attempt finding humor in the tasteless, slapstick comedy shown in the cartoons.

After another fifteen minutes of anxiety, Draco's father stepped quickly out of the kitchen.

"We're leaving." Draco hopped up and went to lean to look into the kitchen, but Lucius grabbed his son's shoulder and pushed the small boy ahead of him to avoid his son's eyes wandering. "Good bye, Potters." Lucius seethed gleefully. Draco only half expected a response, partially because he wanted to be reassured that his suspicions weren't true. And of course his suspicions hung heavily in the air with the sudden, cold feeling of death.

There was no reply as the two exited the house and immediately walked into the car. Lucius wasted no time in starting the ignition and making a u-turn to point his car in the opposite direction.

Draco's eyes no longer drifted to look at his father. Instead, they focused on his fingers which were nervously twitching from side to side. Tears, with an unknown cause behind them, built in his tiny gray eyes. He didn't know the Potters. But he liked them. They were sweet. Lily was pretty – she had nice eyes. He hadn't seen much of Mr. Potter, but the way he sounded when he spoke to his wife was kind. He liked the Potters.

Unfortunately, he'd never get to see more of them alive.

--

"Well, class, I must say I'm very impressed with some of the grades I have here." Professor Snape slapped a large wad of essays onto his desk. "But, I must also admit that I am ashamed of some of the grades here." His dark eyes scanned the room, meeting the gaze of few students around the room. "That is no matter – whether you choose to learn is your own decision. If your paper is not what you expected it to be, see me after class."

Harry sank into his chair. He didn't want to know what he got on his essay. Thankfully, he didn't have too much to worry about. Snape hadn't made eye contact with him, which meant he wasn't one of the 'less impressive' grades. Still, he was tense and anxious to meet the grade he hopefully should receive in fairness.

Snape was handing out the papers in alphabetical order, so Harry waited for awhile until his paper was handed to him.

"…Wow." He didn't exactly realize he'd muttered aloud, but with the grade he had received, he didn't much care. A ninety-two! He was surprised. He figured, mathematically speaking, his grade should have been somewhere in the mid-eighties. Harry's eyes drifted from his paper to two seats down where Draco was sitting, looking over his own essay. He seemed rather pleased with himself.

"Now, onto our next assignment. If you had copied down the syllabus correctly, you should have noticed by now that the following assignment due is your first on-the-job type experience. You will have a partner to work with, and you will each take turns using what we've studied so far to distinguish what is going on in the minds of your fellow students. I have chosen who will be working with who. If I hear any complaints about partners, I will make it a point to make your grade harsher than need be." The students around the room nodded, agreeing firmly that they would make no such complaints. "Good." Snape turned to his desk.

'Ugh, I'm a little worried about who my partner's going to be…' Harry thought, turning his eyes from his Professor to his laptop again, readying himself to write down the name of his partner.

"Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott." Harry looked to Neville, who was blushing like mad. Apparently Neville was still a little nervous around females.

"Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter." Both Harry and Draco's heads shot up, their eyes staring at Snape, who's head was still down as he continued on with the list. Harry's eyes drifted to Draco, who had done the same exact thing. Staring at each other for a moment, unsure of what to think, the two swapped looks containing sneers, then looked away.

'I was right to be worried.' Harry sighed and began to type reluctantly against his keyboard. The minutes passed for the entire class period and Harry could only find himself worrying about the outcome of his project.

"Class dismissed." Harry closed his laptop and stood to stretch.

"Well, Potter, looks like we get to work with one another." Harry turned to face Draco Malfoy, who, seemingly, wasted no time whatsoever in coming to talk to Harry about the way their partnering had turned out.

"Looks like it." Harry looked away from Draco and pulled his laptop into his bag.

"Where do you reckon we should meet?" Draco asked nonchalantly, turning his gaze from Harry to his watch as though he had an important place to be.

"We could work at my apartment – the one above the café my Dad owns." Draco looked a little questioning.

"Your… Dad?" Harry looked back at Draco.

"Yeah."

"But…"

"Godfather."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Harry turned back to his bag and was about to stride away.

"Wait, Potter, what time, when?" Harry turned back, gripping his bag strap to momentarily relieve stress.

"Tomorrow night, seven o'clock. We'll start from there." Draco nodded.

"All right Potter, see you then." Without another word, the two parted ways and left the room.

--

"Ready to get home, kiddo?" A young boy bounced happily in his seat.

"You bet!" The man driving the car smiled warmly down to the boy beside him.

"Bet you can't wait to show your Mum and Dad what you got, can you?" The boy bounced around happily still.

"No, I can't! They'll love it!" He, if he were able to, could skip around the car his legs were kicking so much. The older man beside him let out a long chuckle and turned his attention back to the road. A car zoomed passed him going in the opposite direction and he couldn't help but think the man driving it seemed vaguely familiar. He refused to think about it.

"Well, we're here, kid!" The young boy quickly pulled off his seatbelt and threw open the car door, unable to control his joy. He raced to the front door of the house and pushed it open. The man that had driven him back was following at a slow pace, but was a little perturbed by the fact that the door open far to easily.

A long, shrill scream let out through the air. The man ran down the corridor toward the kitchen. The sight that met him was horrendous. Two bodies lay on the floor, one with a knife in the chest, the other with the knife through the left temple. On the floor beside the two, against the refrigerator, was the young boy, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Harry!" The man leapt forward and grabbed Harry into his arms and let the boy cry his uncontrollable tears. "Shhh, Harry, shhh." Harry continued to sob into the older man's embrace, shuddering fiercely.

The man looked to the two dead bodies. The two hands of the bodies were locked together at the fingers. A gash in the woman's head suggested that she'd fallen from her chair and hit it on the chair's leg. The knives were poking out from the opposite sides of where they'd been planted. Blood was oozing freely out of the temple of the man and blood soaked the shirt of the woman.

"M-Mum… Dad…" Harry was unable to function properly and was unable to expel words from his mouth other than 'mum' and 'dad'. The man was still attempting to calm the boy.

Yet, while trying to keep this boy calm, he was barely able to grip solemn hopes on his own. There they lay, his two best friends, motionless, eyes glazed over, the scent of death filling the room. Sirius didn't want to believe that that was actually them on the ground, that he was actually staring at their blank expressions, that he was actually holding a boy that was now orphaned. No, it was impossible.

But wait. It couldn't be impossible until he could rant about it. For now, it had to be as possible as it could be so Sirius could make himself strong enough for the little boy in his arms.

"It's going to be ok, Harry…" He hugged the boy tightly.

'That man… who was that man…' Sirius was digging deeply into his mind, hoping desperately for something to form. Who was the man he'd seen while he was driving to the Potter's house? It was someone familiar… someone they all knew… someone that was driving rather fast…

Sirius snapped inwardly and sat up erect, yet still holding onto the boy in his arms.

Lucius Malfoy.

--

"What? A project with that git? God bless you, mate." Ron shook his head and pulled his cup of coffee to his lips.

"Oh, Ron, give the boy a break. He's dealing with enough as it is, seeing as he has to see the boy tomorrow night to start the thing." Hermione snapped.

"Thanks, 'Mione. I needed the support." Harry muttered sincerely. Hermione nodded her head encouragingly and then grabbed her coffee, sipping at as she read through her newspaper.

"…We didn't have work for tomorrow, did we?" Harry snorted and looked to Ron as he peered between his two best friends.

"Maybe," Hermione stated.

"Maybe not." Harry added. They smirked at each other and turned their attention to Ron, who was utterly confused. He was ready to ask if they'd planned that moment, but was cut short by a short-tempered Sirius as he entered from the back of the store.

"Hey, Dad, what's wrong?" Sirius's gaze shot up from the torn bag he was carrying to his godson's eyes.

"Ah, nothin'." Sirius tossed the bag into the garbage and turned back into the café's back room. All three of the nineteen year olds jumped for the garbage can, Harry being the first to reach it, and pulled out the torn bag.

Immediately they inspected the bag, but found nothing of severe importance in it. Just a few ripped up pieces of paper. After a short examination, Hermione grabbed the bag and laid it down flat.

"Padfoot and Moony?" She looked at the cursive writing on the front of the bag, her eyebrows reaching to the middle of her forehead in confusion. Harry couldn't believe he'd missed something as obvious as the bag.

"Padfoot was my Dad's nickname back in high school. Moony was his best friend…" He looked down at the bag. A few things beneath the words were extremely deluded and it was impossible to determine what it was it had said before it had been torn. There was a shuffling in the back of the store and the three nervously shoved the bag back into the garbage.

"Harry… about your Dad… is he…?" Hermione was having a hard time coming out with the question. Ron looked on with mild interest, but more so with confusion to what Hermione could possibly want to know.

"Gay?" Hermione's face flushed a heavy red color. She nodded her head without making eye contact. Harry smirked.

"Yeah, he is." She sighed and looked back at the bag.

"And Moony?" Harry began to absently wipe down the counter as to make it seem he was doing something more than just talking about his Dad's love life.

"His best friend, but apparently ex-lover as well. He never talks about him – I never met him." Hermione nodded her head.

"Do you know his full name by any chance?" Harry's right eyebrow rose in interest.

"Actually… I do. Dad told me once, said he was mad at Remus Lupin." Hermione nodded her head, then she snapped her gaze to Harry with a sudden look of shock.

"Remus Lupin? The Remus Lupin?" Harry's eyes rolled from side to side in his head as he suggested that he hadn't a clue of whom it was she was talking about.

"He's a famous explorer! He was the man that found a few of the artifacts in the museums!" She yelped wildly, aware now that she virtually knew someone that was famous and extremely intellectual.

"Well, that's odd. Dad never mentioned that." Ron wasn't listening anymore. Once Hermione had burst on about him being a man that worked in the museum and exploring business, he'd lost interest. Harry, though, was intrigued.

"Hey, Hermione…" She looked up at him with question; "I've got an idea." He leaned over and whispered something in her ear.

"Oh – oh my! That's – that's scandalous!" She smiled widely. It was an amazing idea. A rather interesting one that would hopefully prove to work out correctly. It was devious plan and Hermione and Harry found themselves to be little vixens, keeping the idea in the back of their minds.

--

"You're late." Draco shook his hair dry and looked up to Harry who was sitting on the couch in the living area of his father's small apartment. Draco looked around the room, at the small size, and had to keep himself from sneering at the slight mess of clothes that were flung around the different chairs. Harry hopped up to clear off one of his father's shirts from a chair and tossed it to the floor so Draco could sit.

"All right, how do you propose we start?" Harry looked from Draco to the bag he'd brought, which he figured was holding his laptop.

"Well, since we have to believe we're psychologists, we should start the way Snape told us to." Draco nodded.

"Well, Potter, should I try and see if there's anything important in your mind?" Harry shot Draco a harsh glance.

"Fine, if you keep your snide comments to yourself." Draco sighed.

"Oh, just take all of the fun out of this for me, why don't you." Harry shot him another glare, but Draco ignored it, busying himself with his reading glasses and his laptop, which was up and ready and sitting on the coffee table beside him.

"All right, well, lets start with something simple. Full name."

"Harry James Potter."

There was a few typing sounds.

"Good. Age?"

"Nineteen."

More typing noises.

"Birth month?"

"July."

Yet more typing noises. A few more personal questions went underway, and then Draco decided to ask something a little more challenging then factual knowledge.

"What's your best memory?"

"The day I gave my Dad money to open this café."

"What's your funniest memory?" Harry snorted for a second.

"When Ron decided that all of the windows were dirty and decided to try and wash them with coffee. Mind you, he was drunk to the point of blindness." Draco rolled his eyes and moved on, typing a little more on his computer.

"Who's your idol?"

"Sirius, my godfather and Dad." Draco wasn't surprised – they seemed like that kind of family.

"What is your first memory, chronologically?" Harry froze and wasn't ready to tell the truth.

"I was four and my godfather and I were playing Frisbee." It came out fast, and far to jumpy – even for Draco.

"Try again."

"What was that?"

"I said try again. Earliest memory. You have to be truthful – nothing that goes on here is going to be given out." Harry took in a deep breath, realizing he would have to trust Malfoy for the time being.

"…Fine. I was three and my real father, James Potter, was making eggs. My Mum was sitting at the table eating her porridge." He paused and took in a sharp breath, causing Draco to pay attention better. "She smiled at me with this big, warm smile, and he poked me in the stomach with a plastic spoon and put a plate of eggs in front of me. That's it." He sighs.

"Who do you have eminent hatred for?" Harry tensed. He didn't want to answer that question – Draco was plucking all the right strings in his mind and heart. "Potter?"

"I don't want to say." Draco tensed up as well, but remained firm, looking at Harry sternly.

"Potter…"

"You're father, damn it! Happy?" Draco was taken slightly aback, leaning against his chair in utter surprise. Draco, very slowly, typed down Harry's answer.

"And why's that?" Draco needn't to ask, he knew the answer, but he was no longer pretending. He wanted to work through Harry's mind.

"Because. Because he… he murdered my Mum and Dad." Draco bit back his tongue.

"I'm sorry…" He averted his gaze back to his laptop.

"Yeah, well, it happens." Harry was unable to contain his anger. He was now angry at Draco, because Draco was pulling at Harry's mind. He couldn't stand it. Why did he have to pry? He wasn't really his psychologist. He didn't need to be working so horribly into his mind… he needed to leave Harry alone and search somewhere else.

"You obviously have tension when it comes to your past."

"I wonder why." Harry shot Draco a look to accompany his words.

"Don't look at me like that, Potter. I'm not my father. I didn't do it."

"Yes, well, you haven't done much to make me feel like you're any different." Draco glared extremely long at Harry.

"So now you think I'm my father? Well let me get something out into the open, Harry." It was the first time Draco had actually said Harry's name. His first name. Harry was taken aback, and his mouth was ajar in surprise. He was unable to respond and found himself hanging onto what Draco was staying.

Draco had, by now abandoned his computer and was standing, glasses hanging off his nose, eyes burning with rage, fists hanging at his sides. He wanted to shout at Harry – tell Harry that he wasn't the only one that went through anger that day. That he wasn't the only person to have to endure fifteen long years of pain because of one man's mistake.

"Harry, I was there. I saw him. I was with him. He was forced to take me with him to wherever he was going that day. My mum told him to. So he did. I was watching TV in your house, cartoons. My dad had tried to kiss your mum… she wasn't having it. Your dad came in. My dad loved your mum. He always had. I didn't realize it, but that was the only reason I was with him that day – because he wanted me to see that my mum wasn't the one he loved. That me being his child wasn't who he wanted as his child." He shot a glare at Harry. "He always wanted you as a kid. You were the perfect kid to him. You were brought forth through Lily Evans's womb, and that made you special. I was his son, and he could barely look me in the eye. Not once did he say he loved me. Not. Once."

Harry was staring unbelievingly at the boy in front of him. Draco's hair was astray over his face in disarray, gray eyes flickering in anger. Harry never knew. Harry couldn't have known. Harry wouldn't have known.

"Well, for your information, because of your father, my mum was always scared! She couldn't very well go to the supermarket because she was afraid of him showing up! I'd seen your father on numerous occasions while we were in the store. He looked at me with envy – probably because of my resemblance of my father." Harry's eyes sank. "You may have not had love from your dad, but I was never given the chance to find out of I could be loved by mine."

There it was. Draco was done for. So was Harry. Mortal enemies, in tears during their first session in a project for Snape's class. Draco sank into his chair and hung his head.

"I – I should go." Draco grabbed his laptop and placed it into his bag, then grabbed his coat. Harry watched him in shock for a second, then followed the boy as he jogged out of the room.

Before he knew what he was doing, he followed him.

"Draco!" Draco refused to stop walking. It was pouring. The rain was hitting against the two bodies. They were the only two on the street at the moment. Ignoring it, Harry sped up to reach Draco before he reached his car.

"Draco, Draco stop." He didn't need to tell the blond to stop. He was having the hardest time finding the right key to unlock the car door. Harry grabbed his unsteady head and his green eyes were immediately met with Draco's tear-cluttered gray orbs. "Draco, I'm sorry." He was nearly shouting over the rain.

"So am I, Harry." In the unlikely moment of rain, the two embraced. They were clinging to one another, rain plummeting around them, soaking through their clothes. Harry ran his finger over Draco's cheek and the blond turned his head to look at him.

Without warning, and in a heat of passion that could only be described as love, Harry grabbed the back of Draco's head and closed the space between them in lustful kiss. Draco was taken aback, but given the position he was in, he was unable to do nothing but participate. Against the freezing air and the ice rain, the warmth of the kiss melted through their soaked clothing and brought them to a warmer position against one another. Harry's tongue dipped from his own mouth and reached over Draco's bottom lip, requesting entry, and with a moan, Draco's lips parted, giving Harry's tongue the relief it needed to enter Draco's oral cavern. Grasping the taller brunette's midriff, Draco plunged his own tongue into Harry's mouth as the two fought an oral battle.

Finally, because of lack of air, the two parted, gasping for breath and obviously light headed.

"What – just – happened?" Harry murmured between breaths, hands still behind Draco's head. Draco leaned forward and rested his forehead against Harry's.

"I don't know, but sure as hell felt good." Harry smirked and leaned in again for another long snog with beautiful blond in his arms. Draco allowed it with less resistance. He was trying to figure out just what it was that was swarming through his thoughts.

"Mmm – Harry." Draco pulled himself from the brunette's embrace, receiving a hurt expression from the taller. "Harry, I – We shouldn't do this. We're both vulnerable. We're both unable to control ourselves. I-" Harry's breathing hitched, but he remained calm.

"You're right… I'm sorry." With that, Harry's eyes averted from the blond he was standing in front of and he found himself walking away.

"So am I," Draco muttered beneath his breath, still in a heat of passion. He pulled open his car door, slammed it after him, and was down the street in no time.

--

"What?!" Hermione prodded the soaking Harry with her spoon. "Repeat that?"

"We snogged." Harry said, pulling his towel over his head.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what happened?!" Harry sighed.

"Nothing. He told me we were both too vulnerable after the fight we'd had about our pasts." Harry sighed and continued to dry his hair.

"Oh…" Harry nodded.

"Ok, Harry, I would more than anything love to support you but… Malfoy?" Hermione shot Ron a harsh glare. "Sorry! It's just a surprise!" Harry sighed.

"It's ok Ron, it's a surprise to me too. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I didn't really want it…" Hermione slapped him in the back of the head.

"Harry James Potter, don't you even think that! There was a reason for what happened – even if you don't want to agree with it."

"I guess you're right. But, enough about me. Had any ideas for how to get a hold of Lupin?" Hermione's expression changed, her eyes warmed up and her smile lifted to her cheekbones.

"I've already got his number! Now, all we need to do is time it. Plan it perfectly. You'll see, it'll be great." Harry nodded his head.

"I know. Thanks, because I probably wouldn't be able to do it on my own. Operation Lover's Storm is a go, Cap'n!" Hermione grinned to her best friends and sank down into her chair.

"Yes, yes it is."

--

See? Not as long as the first one. But still sort of long. Sorry loves. Oh, if anyone out there is a good beta-reader, I could use one! It'd be must appreciated, thank you!  Well, I'm off loves!

Remember. Reviews are yummy. I like reviews.

Ta 3 Masqued