Disclaimer: Don't own! Don't sue!

AN: Eeeeek, it's been far too long since updating this story, and for that I apologise. The next chapter is written but I am having trouble with Chapter 9. I've had some plot bunnies floating around for a little while. Finally, the story seems to have a direction!

Lamia Chapter 7 Caught

"He's been gone for hours, Hermione! I'll bet Snape's got him held prisoner or something, and is planning on handing him over to You Know Who first chance he gets," said Ron, springing from his chair and pacing in front of the fireplace for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

He and Hermione were the last students in the Gryffindor common room and it was now well past midnight.

Hermione sighed and looked up from her book. "Dumbledore trusts Snape, so we should too, Ron. He's on our side now, not Voldemort's" she replied, rolling her eyes as Ron involuntarily cringed at the name. "Honestly Ron, it's just a name! Would you flinch like that all the time if his name was Flopsy-Wopsey or, I dunno, Betty," she continued, "I'm sure Harry's perfectly capable of taking care of himself, besides, I don't think we need to worry about Snape, it's Draco Malfoy I'm keeping my eye on".

"Malfoy! Why him?"

"I'm not too sure yet. I can't quite put my finger on it. He's just been acting differently lately. He's not hanging out with those oafs he calls friends, he looks dreadful, and well, maybe I'm just imagining it…" said Hermione, shifting uncomfortably in the sofa.

"What, what is it?"

"Well, the other day I saw him looking at Harry…"

"So, people look at Harry all the time, he's 'The Boy Who Lived'"

"But it was more than just looking… it was like Draco was focusing entirely on Harry. There was this bizarre look on his face, complete concentration, or, I dunno, some sort of hunger. Draco didn't seem to be taking anything else in around him, he was just sat there staring at Harry. He hardly blinked and his eyes were all kind of silvery." Hermione shivered, despite the roaring fire in the grate in front of her. "Maybe it was just the light, but it gave me the creeps Ron. Made me go cold. He looked like some kind of wild animal, and for a moment, I thought of whipping out my wand in case he attacked. Stupid, huh…" said Hermione, offering Ron a weak, lopsided smile.

Ron laughed uneasily. "Yeah, 'spect it was nothing, really, just Draco being half asleep or something…" he continued, looking away into the fire.

"I'm going to bed. I've got far too much homework to think at the moment, and I do not want to have nightmares about Draco!"

"Okay, Hermione. I'll probably go up myself soon…" replied Ron, turning his attention back towards the fire's flames.

Harry came round about four hours after falling over Draco in the hallway. His head was foggy and his mouth was dry. Shifting slowly, his muscles and body ached from lying on the cold hard floor. Blinking, his eyes slowly adjusted to light coming from a candle on a desk in the centre of the room.

He shifted on to his side, grunting as his stiffened muscles protested. Pushing himself up to a sitting position, the room began to spin and a dull thud started up in Harry's head. He closed his eyes, and paused before looking up and squinting out into the dark room. The glow of the candle did little to the long shadows growing from the corners and sides of the room, and with no other options, Harry got up and moved towards the light.

Reaching for the candle, Harry paused and stiffened. He felt like he was being watched. Standing in the only light in the room, he felt like he had walked into the spotlight on a stage, and that in the shadows there was an audience, waiting, watching.

Grasping the candle, Harry lifted it high in the air, banishing the surrounding shadows to their hiding places.

"Where do shadows go to hide?" came a voice from behind Harry.

Whirling round, Harry directed the light in the direction of the voice. Again, the shadows retreated, and Harry was left staring at the tables, chairs, brick walls and floors that made up this dusty, unused room.

A chuckle sounded to his left.

Spinning sharply, Harry raised the candle.

Draco Malfoy stepped into the light. "You know, you are a wizard, Potter, you do have a better weapon than that candle. I can think of one that would be much more effective in disarming me…"

"Malfoy…" said Harry. He placed the candle on the low table that stood between them, and dropped his hands to his sides, feeling for his wand in his jeans pocket. It was still there, and Malfoy would have taken it if this were some kind of revenge attack or ambush. "Where are we?" said Harry, his voice wary.

"Don't worry, I haven't kidnapped you or anything. We're in one of the old prefects' study rooms in the dungeons. Want a seat? It's a bit old and musty, but that sofa is incredibly comfortable. You could almost lose yourself in there."

Not taking his eyes off Draco, Harry moved towards the sofa. Looking briefly down at the aging, patchwork covers of the sofa, he wondered if there were 'things' living in there. It was never good to have 'things' living in your furniture. The muggle 'things' were bad enough, fleas, lice, bugs, cockroaches, etc, but he didn't even want to think of the wizarding world's 'things'. He resumed eye contact with Draco and sat tentatively on the edge of the sofa.

Draco plopped down next to him, and Harry had to immediately lean back to stop from falling off the seat. The sofa immediately enveloped him. It was like having a warm hug from your most favourite person in the world. Despite the unusual situation he was in, Harry immediately felt himself relax, and the thud in his head seemed to ease.

Here goes nothing thought Harry, and he asked the question that had been buzzing around in his head since his detention. "Draco, are you okay?" It felt strange talking normally to his supposed sworn enemy, but remembering the way Draco had acted in the classroom with Snape, and after finding him on the floor in the hall, it didn't feel right to Harry to start fighting with Draco. Almost as if it were unfair, like Draco might perhaps be broken or at a disadvantage, and that the duel would be one-sided and biased because of that.

"Don't I look okay? I feel fine, thank you. Much more refreshed. I realise it's quite unexpected, given my earlier state this evening" responded Draco. Immediately he regretted having brought up his condition earlier. It would be better for Harry if he forgot as much of that as possible, thought Draco to himself.

"You were on the floor though. Practically dead. Well, at least I thought you might be dead..."

"...yeah, and I'd bet you'd love that wouldn't you, Potter! Me dead and out of your way forever!" spat Draco, instinctively.

Silence followed. The candle danced in a soft breeze, and Harry turned to watch the flame. "Sorry. I didn't mean I wished you were dead, I was just shocked when I found you" he said, not daring to look at Draco.

Draco didn't reply. He sat in silence, next to Harry. He didn't trust himself at this moment to say anything polite or civil to him, and yet this was the moment he'd been waiting for. A chance away from those two wannabes that Harry hung out with. "Sorry".

Looking up at Draco, Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought he'd just heard Draco Malfoy say the 'S' word to him. He never thought he'd hear that. Something had definitely changed over the summer. Deciding not to push his luck, Harry turned his eyes back to the candle, and tried to think of something to say. He didn't want to revert back to the arguing and bickering that he and Draco had been engaged in since they first met 5 years ago. It reminded him of Hermione and Ron. And as they looked like they were going to end up an item, Harry didn't quite know what that meant for his and Draco's relationship. Truth was, Harry was scared. Draco Malfoy… he's practically Voldemort's number three, just after Lucius Malfoy, his Deatheater father… thought Harry, and I can't stop thinking about him…. He sighed.

An uncomfortable silence descended into the room and both boys sat, staring into the flame.

"Draco, what happened out in the corridor?" asked Harry.

Careful thought Draco to himself. He may not remember much, and that could be to his and my own advantage. "What do you think happened?" Draco responded.

"Well, you were in the corridor, on the floor, and I fell over you… and then… it went all strange… there were all these colours, pinks, purples, reds… a lot of red… and I could hear your voice… and I thought for a minute you were…" Harry stopped. He had been about to say that he thought Draco had been kissing him, and he was pretty sure Draco would curse him into a million pieces if he suggested something like that.

"That I was what?" prompted Draco.

"It's nothing, really. I must have hit my head when I fell. Passed out or something. Huh, imagine that, us two lying next to each other on the floor! Must of looked very strange to anyone who didn't know we hated each other!"

"Do you really hate me?" queried Draco. He almost didn't want to know the answer. Didn't want to have his hopes dashed. Didn't want Harry to tell him that there was no chance of them ever being together.

Harry paused and looked at Draco. Draco's face was half hidden in shadow, and the candlelight made the usually pale, cold angles of his face look soft and warm. His blond hair fell into his eyes, which seemed to sparkle silver instead of their usual grey. "No," he replied. "No, I don't hate you. And I don't think I ever did. Not really. I am beginning to see you in a whole new light, and, if I'm honest, I have a feeling about you that I've never had about anyone else before."

Draco twisted in his seat to face Harry. He held his breath and looked deep into Harry's emerald green eyes. Leaning forward, Draco brushed his lips lightly against Harry's. Harry found himself leaning forward and returning the kiss. Eyes closed, lips together, it was like electricity, an instant connection, sparks flying, a kiss that could last forever. Until…

"HARRY!"

The door stood open and framed in the light from the corridor stood… no one. No one, that is, except a pair of feet and a cry that sounded an awful lot like Ron. Harry's invisibility cloak dropped to the floor, leaving an open-mouthed Ron standing in the doorway, totally shocked and unprepared for what he had just seen.

Draco was on his feet in an instant. Lightning fast, he pulled out his wand and aimed it at Ron. "In, now, shut the door, and shut up." Ron did exactly what he was told. He was still trying to understand what he had just witnessed.

Harry got up from the sofa, and moved between Ron and Draco. "Put your wand away," he instructed Draco. "Put your wand away!" he repeated, as Draco started to walk around him. "Malfoy. Put it away!"

Draco looked at Harry. The use of the name Malfoy had brought him down to earth, fast. Harry was his enemy. Nothing could change that. But to harm Ron would be to harm Harry. Looking into Harry's eyes Draco said "Not a word of this gets out. You understand. If I hear so much as a whisper that your weasel has said anything, I'll kill him. And I mean it." Walking past Harry, Draco stalked up to Ron. "Did you hear that Weasel? One word and you're dead." Draco turned to the door, flung it open and stormed out.