Author: Etherea.

Rating: T – PG-13 (Slight Sexual connotations and Foul Language; nothing unbearable.)

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't sue.

Author Note: I'm reposting all the original chapters from this story. A few changes have been made, but nothing big. I seriously, seriously want to know your opinions about it! Oh yes, I forgot… Ahem ºclears throat and adopts speech postureº

Wizards and witches, they flick their wands;

I just write fics for your delight.

You read and read, and if they're good,

At the end you leave a nice review!

Another Author Note: Once again, thanks to Enchant for Beta-ing this. I changed the title of this chapter for I don't know what I was thinking the day I wrote it. Oh, well. On with it…

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Ethereal Desire

Chapter Two

The Principles of Hyperventilation

Ron Weasley and Harry Potter reached the open doors of the Wizengamot courtroom a few minutes before ten a.m. The magnificent tribunal, decorated in gold and purple, was the quintessence of the Magical World's power and prosperity. The purest white marble covered the floors and walls. Rows of rich Empire Style chairs were arranged on both sides of the spacious room, leaving a centre aisle for circulation. There was a solid mahogany table decorated with marquetry placed on a platform at the end of the courtroom, with four throne-like chairs set behind it. To the right side of the table was the witness box, and facing both were the docks for the prosecutor and the defence.

"Bloody Hell! This place is packed!" Ron said when they stepped foot inside the courtroom. Harry surveyed the tribunal. The audience section had been turned into a sea of colourful robes and hats featuring passionate wizards talking to each other, witches waving fans over their made-up faces, children crying, Aurors and Ministry Officials running around… a sight which could have made one Neville Longbottom have a cardiac arrest were he the one sitting on the dock. The media box placed near the entrance was crowded with journalists from selected newspapers and magazines, all of them babbling into magical recorders and Quick-Quotes Quills. The noise inside the court was unbelievable, and it became louder –if possible- when the media and some attendees noticed the famous Harry Potter entering the room.

"Good Gods!" Harry fought back a wave of nausea as he remembered his own 'Wizengamot experience' and realised he didn't envy the difference one bit. "I don't think the Wizengamot Supreme Court has ever been this crowded in all its history!" Malfoy is going to faint when he sees this, Harry thought; he certainly couldn't help feeling sorry for the haughty blond at the moment, but he would never say that out loud.

"Let's go get our seats. They must be somewhere in the front," Ron said with that sly smile back in place. He wasn't paying any attention to the hideous mass of reporters revolving around them that he always found so annoying. He didn't care at all about the struggling and the screaming for autographs. He only had one thing on his mind: Malfoy is going down today, and with an audience!

How could he not feel so happy?

"Harry! Ron! Over here!" The two wizards turned their heads in the direction the voice was calling to find Angelina Johnson –head of the Auror Department- and Seamus Finnegan –her newly-appointed assistant- waving at them from the third row. The two wizards made their way across the aisle –Harry stopping to sign a few posters and shake a couple of hands- to their seats. They sat in the two chairs next to their friends' and colleagues.

"Blimey, Lina! Did the Department planned ahead for this mess?" Ron said after the mandatory greetings, looking around the crowded place. Angelina scowled.

"We have a few Aurors watching the gates and the Minister sent in some of his own guards to help with Malfoy's security. He's afraid the bastard is going to get lynched before the hearing starts." Ron laughed, gaining a reproving look from Harry.

"I say let them lynch the ferret! We'd save ourselves tons of paperwork!"

"Hey! Do you guys know what Luton is planning for the hearing? I've heard rumours saying he's very optimistic he'll win the case," Seamus cut in with his deep Irish accent, grinning wickedly at the possibility.

Gods! Does everybody want to see Malfoy ruined? the Boy Who Lived found himself thinking, to his utmost chagrin. He scowled at his own noble sentiments; he certainly didn't give a damn about the obnoxious brat's feelings! Ron took the gesture as a sign of acquiescence, giving his best mate a pat on the back, smiling.

"Of course he's going to win this bloody case! And I'll be delighted to be the one escorting Malfoy to his cell in Azkaban; the one right next to his daddy's!" Everybody laughed, except of course, the Golden Boy. He was getting quite worried about such a demonstration of bigotry. Still, he remained quiet during the whole exchange.

"Fudge is having a field day with this hearing. The survey numbers haven't been this high since he got elected," Angelina added in her flippant tone as she inspected her nails, "and that means the Department gets its share of the recognition as well. Merlin knows we need the resources!"

"Oh, come on, you guys!" the Boy Who Lived finally said with exasperation. "Did you forget we have to be impartial in this case? We did our job and we didn't find anything. That's where our involvement stops and that's where our thoughts must…"

Harry Potter trailed off as some commotion at the other side of the courtroom caught his attention. He couldn't hear the retort his best friend was saying about his comment, nor could he hear the expressions and insults emanating from everywhere around him. Suddenly, all of his senses were focused on a single figure making its way through the mass of reporters, guarded by Ministry Officials. His breath caught in his throat and his quickened heartbeats became loud and clear in his ears, like a soundtrack playing in the background. All of his nerve endings exploded out of control as a long shiver ran throughout his body. The earth seemed to stop spinning on its axis and everything around him turned into a blur.

Walking towards the end of the courtroom, his quicksilver eyes shining with pride and haughtiness, his face –once pale and fragile, now beautifully sun-kissed and matured- set in a blank mask, his long blond hair free and untamed, his broad shoulders squared under the dark blue robe, was the reason for the raven-haired wizard's current state. Harry Potter blinked a few times, trying to regain control. His stomach did a flip-flop, an abrupt fear making his body temperature drop a few degrees. He couldn't believe his eyes, and yet, there was no mistaking who this stunning man was.

That knowledge struck him right to the core.

"Malfoy," he breathed.

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Draco hadn't even opened his eyes after apparating inside of the Ministry of Magic when he found himself assaulted by a bombardment of flashes and questions. Damn reporters, he thought. Besides him, Severus let out a very colourful expletive at the sight of the frantic mass surrounding them. The older wizard signalled to a couple of officials -who apparently were awaiting their arrival behind the front desk- and immediately the appointed bodyguards made their way to the harassed pair, creating an opening for them to pass. The two wizards were escorted to the courtroom by their two protectors through a special passageway -used only by the Wizengamot members and distinctive witnesses- in order to get there in one piece. Severus Snape looked at his godson. If the blond was scared, he certainly wasn't showing it.

"Well, you've already gotten a glimpse of what this hearing is going to be. I hope you know what you're doing."

"If I had known I was this popular, I certainly would have showed up earlier and signed some autographs," Draco said in his copyrighted drawl as he followed the two gorillas in front of him. "You know how much I love being the centre of attention." Severus couldn't help the slight upwards turn of his lips.

"I bet you would have. Anyway, we are almost there. Remember; try to control your attitude. It's the only thing I ask of you."

Draco breathed in deeply a few times; his fists closed tightly at his sides. At the end of the passageway there was a solid wooden door. One of the guards cast a spell neither of his charges heard, and suddenly the door opened to reveal… well, mayhem really.

Draco clung to every single ounce of self-control he possessed to not turn around and run in the exact opposite direction in that moment. A cold wave of panic ran through his whole body as he was faced with the harsh reality of what he truly was in for that day, but he pushed it back to wherever it had sprung from.

Oh, Hell

The blond wizard walked into the crammed full tribunal flanked by his godfather and the two Ministry Officials through a myriad of foul comments, flashes and questions from the media. His face showed none of the thousand emotions running in no special order through his head. This was it. This was the ultimate ordeal. If he survived this, he could finally be free; he could have his life back.

They made their way to the dock. Draco didn't even look once around the courtroom once. He didn't damn well feel like seeing those faces full of hatred and disgust staring back at him. He couldn't help but feel the cold wave of anger building in his stomach. Half of those people didn't even belong there; they had showed up only for entertainment's sake, to boast about the fact that they had been at Draco Malfoy's hearing. In that moment, he wondered if that was how Harry Potter had felt that day during their fifth year when he faced the Wizengamot and their false accusations. Damn it! He had been thrilled at the prospect of getting rid of Potter once and for all at that time. Now, he didn't think he wished what was happening to him upon anybody. Oh, wait… the golden idiot is testifying against me today, isn't he? I bet he must be dying of excitement.

Draco couldn't help to snarl at his own thoughts. Stupid, conceited, stuck-up sod.

"Now what?" he said when both wizards had reached their seats at the dock.

"Now we wait." This place is a circus, the Potions Master thought. Damn Luton and his ludicrous charade.

They didn't have to wait too long, for exactly at ten a.m. the main doors to the courtroom were closed and several figures entered the room through the side door they had just come in through. Silence suddenly reigned over the place. Five wizards and a witch, four of them dressed in purple robes and the other two in navy, made their way towards the end of the court; solemn expressions on their faces. The two wizards dressed in navy costumes took their seats at the prosecutor desk, whilst the other four went to sit behind the splendid table.

"The court is now in session," said in a grave tone a guard standing by the witness box. The murmurs of the journalists could be heard throughout the courtroom, stating the very same thing the guard had said. It seemed they were having a live broadcast of the event. One of the old wizards sitting at the presidium cleared his throat, holding his glasses over a piece of parchment.

"Case 4982/G. Inheritance assessment under the Aliter Mortis clause, filed on the eighteenth of August by Severus Claudius Snape on behalf of Draco Lucius Malfoy."

The old wizard paused to look around the quiet courtroom. "Are the applicants present today?" Severus stood up swiftly, nodding his head with respect. "Yes, your honour. I'm also standing as Mr. Malfoy's legal representative." The old wizard nodded back. "Excellent. Let's start the procedures, shall we?" Severus addressed the court.

"Your honour, it is well known by the Magical Community that the whole of the Malfoy family's assets were seized by the Ministry after Mr. Lucius Malfoy's imprisonment. As it is stated in our petition, we requested eight weeks ago the granting of all intestate property to Mr. Malfoy's only heir and son under the Aliter Mortis clause before the Ministry, as there is no will to dispose of the possessions and we believe it unfair to wait until Mr. Malfoy Senior's death for my client to obtain what is rightfully his. However, the Ministry has not obliged to our previous claim so far; therefore, we stand here today before this court hoping our demand will finally be resolved, if not by fair disposition, then by legal injunction."

A murmur ran throughout the court after the Potions Master's words. Phrases such as "how dare he" and "what insolence" could be heard amongst the attendees. In the media box, the journalists were already having the time of their lives. Draco snorted to himself. It seemed his godfather had already been classified as 'persona non grata' by association amongst the Magical Community –as if he had ever been considered otherwise- even after he had received the Order of Merlin, First Class award due to his collaboration as a double agent during the Second War.

What a bunch of hypocrites, the blond scoffed.

"Order!" The old wizard let his voice fill the courtroom, hitting the gavel once against the table and obtaining immediate results. He then turned and whispered something to his companions, getting comments and nods from them. The witch sitting next to him stared sternly at Draco, which the young wizard responded to with a smirk and a cold glint in his mercury eyes, causing the middle-aged woman to look away. The young Slytherin almost laughed at the woman's effrontery.

When the Wizengamot finished their little discussion, the old wizard spoke again.

"Mr. Draco Malfoy's request is completely reasonable, Mr. Snape. However, you must understand that the circumstances surrounding his father's imprisonment bring other issues to the table. This is not what we could consider a regular inheritance assessment case. As you must be aware of, the Ministry has filed a cross-complaint before this court basing its allegations on decree 683, which states that all Death Eaters' heirs and heiresses must be subjected to proper investigations in order to determine whether it is plausible to grant them the seized property or not. The reasons are quite obvious, I trust. Therefore, this court is open to both sides' allegations and will consequently rule upon them. Now, if Mr. Luton here is ready for his opening statement, he may begin."

At the signal, one of the wizards sitting at the dock next to theirs stood up and cleared his throat. The man was quite chubby, and his short stature only enhanced the fact. He had little to no hair on his head, and his small eyes looked like little knobs on his round face; his absurdly thin lips curved in a snotty –and completely grotesque- smile. His robes seemed to be about to burst open any minute now, and his yellowish skin was shiny with sweat. He looked exactly like the pig he probably was; simply disgusting, in Draco's opinion.

"Absolutely, your honour."

The supposedly derisive but undeniably feminine voice that came out of that mouth was almost Draco's undoing. He had to breathe deeply more times than he cared to confess not to explode with laughter. He ventured a glance at his godfather, who had taken his seat once more, and was utterly joyful with the fact that Severus' expression resembled a mixture of reproach and mockery as the older wizard regarded the joke of a prosecutor making his way now to the front. The blond snorted once again to himself as he surveyed the fat wizard who was supposed to send him to prison. How a person with such a pathetic voice, such a hideous appearance, and with such an ignorance of the fine art of hauteur can be the most feared prosecutor in all the Magical World was certainly beyond Draco's comprehension.

Ralph Luton walked to the front of the audience with all of the finesse his large physique could grant him and looked around the crowded room with a satisfactory smile on his face.

"What Mr. Snape here," he waved a chubby hand to where Draco and Severus were seated, "has so cleverly –albeit unsuccessfully- tried to portray as governmental incompetence, is actually the Ministry of Magic doing its job as the guarantor of peace and justice our beloved Magical Community so rightfully deserves, for it is the Ministry's responsibility to preserve the common good over whatever private interests that may threaten it." The audience almost clapped their hands for such an inspiring statement. The obnoxious man looked straight at Draco with his sardonic little smile plastered on his disgusting face, and the blond felt the small sparks of anger stir in his insides, even when his trained features showed only mild interest for what was going on around him. The prosecutor smiled condescendingly at his prey.

"Although Mr. Malfoy here is merely exercising his… rights with his petition, unfortunately for him this Ministry of Magic is not, and I vehemently repeat, is not what it used to be ten years ago, when the power and prestige of the Pureblood families were used against their own kind, and favours and requests were granted without asking any questions.

"This Ministry, the one we all are so proud of, is determined to obliterate those times from its history! As wizards and witches, as respectable members of this community, we won't hesitate to uphold the great values we so dearly embrace. We won't let, under any circumstance, our community down! Today, justice will prevail; and this humble public servant and the wonderful team behind him is going to prove why this man's plea should not be answered," the prosecutor had his right index finger haughtily pointed at Draco, who had to switch to deep-breathing mode in order to keep his composure, "and why he deserves to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban Prison!"

The court erupted in a round of applause and some attendees even stood up for an ovation. Ralph Luton looked at the response with a condescending smile playing around his lips; obviously satisfied with his opening act. He took his seat again as he looked at the defendant with disdain. The Potions Master, sensing Draco's hidden anger, grabbed the blonde's forearm; a silent plea for forbearance. At the table, the old wizard hit the gavel several times, trying to impose silence once more.

"Order! Order! This type of behaviour is not tolerated in a courtroom! Silence, I say!" The audience finally settled, and the old man shook his head, scowling. "Mr. Luton, as passionate as you may be about this case, I suggest you put off the histrionics for after the hearing has ended." Ralph Luton nodded in acquiescence, but his triumphant demeanour didn't change one bit. "Now," the Wizengamot wizard added, "I believe the prosecution has assembled a group of witnesses?"

Luton stood up once more. "Yes, your honour. The prosecution would like to call forward our first witness," another derisive smile towards Draco, "Miss Pansy Parkinson."

Once again, a murmur ran through the courtroom as the doors opened and a tall blond-haired witch with pink robes and matching hat entered the tribunal. Her face was set in a smirk, and she walked with an air of superiority that was even more suffocating than the smell of the patchouli surrounding her.

"What?" Draco couldn't prevent the astonished question, even when it escaped his mouth through gritted teeth. He couldn't believe his ears –or his eyes- for that matter. "Pansy? Pansy sodding Parkinson? What the hell does she have to say against me?" Draco asked his godfather, who -judging by the scowl adorning his pale features- had expected something like that to happen.

"Whatever an aggravated witch can come up with." Severus didn't look too thrilled about the prospect and Draco knew exactly what his godfather's words meant.

Oh… Bloody Hell! Should I start getting worried now? Draco thought as he massaged his temples. How long had he been there? Ten, fifteen minutes? Well, he was already getting a headache. And that was not a good sign.

The haughty blond walked to the witness box, giving Draco a mocking smile and waving her jewellery-covered hand at him as she past by the defendant dock. Draco had these maniac urges to strangle her right there and then and wipe that stupid smile off her ridiculously daubed face, but of course, that wouldn't look too good in front of the Wizengamot, would it? The witch approached the guard standing by the box, and the official took a golden wand out of a wooden box. The guard pointed the tool right at Pansy's heart.

"Do you solemnly swear to speak the truth and nothing but the truth under a magical oath?"

"I do," the witch said with her high pitched voice. The tip of the wand shone with a pale blue light, and with that the guard put it away in its container. She took her seat, never taking her eyes off of Draco, who was regarding her with a frozen glint on his mercury eyes.

"Miss Parkinson," Ralph Luton had walked towards the box and was now standing at the side; one hand casually placed on the balustrade. "You've known Mr. Malfoy here for a long time, haven't you?" She put on her most innocent face.

"Oh, yes! We've known each other since we were babies. Our parents were good friends. We went to Hogwarts together, as well. We were in the same house... but of course, you already knew that." Luton nodded.

"Yes, indeed. And how can you define your relationship with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Draco and I were close; really close, if you catch my meaning." The court erupted in whispers once more, gaining the same response from the old wizard at the judges table.

"Order!" After a few seconds, the prosecutor resumed his examination.

"Miss Parkinson, did Mr. Malfoy ever comment on his allegiances during the war? Did he ever talk about his father's involvement with the Dark Lord? We all know what a role model Malfoy Senior was for his son."

"Objection, your honour!" Severus jumped unexpectedly from his seat. "The prosecution is leading the witness!" The Wizengamot wizard nodded at the Potions Master. The other members kept whispering to each other.

"Sustained. Mr. Luton, can you please examine the witness without speaking your own mind?"

"Of course, your honour." The fat man scowled, but obliged nonetheless. He turned once more to Pansy.

"Let's rephrase the question, shall we? Did Mr. Malfoy here ever talk about his opinions on the Dark Lord?" Pansy looked pensive for a few seconds, and then sneered at Draco.

"He said many times that the Dark Lord was the greatest wizard on the face of the earth."

As practically expected, the audience exploded with exclamations of astonishment and foul comments. Phrases such as "Voldemort, the best wizard on the face of the earth, according to Draco Malfoy" and "He looked up to the Dark Lord" could be heard from the media box, reverberating in the room amongst the flashes, beeps, and scratches of magical cameras and Dict-O-Quills. Draco was positively seething, and Severus had to hold the younger wizard's forearm once more to keep him from strangling the obnoxious witch.

"Don't make it any harder than it already is," he whispered to the blond, but his voice held that particular tone that meant he wasn't fooling around. Draco narrowed his mercury eyes at his godfather, and when he spoke, his tone was as acerbic as hydrochloric acid. "If I used to think Voldemort was great, she wanted to have his gods-forsaken heir! Why isn't that bitch in this dock with me then?"

"She has openly uttered her redemption and is now a respectable member of the community, that's why! Now, get a grip, for Salazar's teeth! Or do I have to put you under Imperio to have you behave properly?" Jet-black orbs pierced stormy grey with suppressed fury, and the Slytherin had to swallow his anger and the rising sense of indignation that was threatening to make him do something really stupid in that moment. Finally, the sounds of a gavel being hit repeatedly against wood and the rusty "Order!"s coming from the presidium overpowered the chaos in the courtroom.

"How interesting." Luton ventured a glance to the inwardly-seething young wizard at the dock. "Miss Parkinson, what happened to Mr. Malfoy after his father was sent to prison?"

"Well, he and his mother went to live with Professor Snape." She looked at her former head of house with the most hypocritical smile plastered on her face. "You see, Drake didn't speak much to anyone after his father was sent to Azkaban. I guess he was too embarrassed, although he would never say that out loud. The only people who remained faithful to him after that were Blaise Zabini and me."

"Did he talk about the Dark Lord during that time?"

"To tell the truth, only once; at the end of our fifth year, he swore revenge against Harry Potter for sending his daddy to prison. Drake was truly upset when he found out." Pansy waved her hand at the war hero sitting in the third row of the audience, who had remained completely inconspicuous during the whole thing and who once again regained everybody's attention after her comment. The Boy Who Lived seemed too absorbed in his own thoughts, though, and a knock from his red-haired friend was required to bring him back to earth. "The defendant swore to kill our Golden Boy!" one journalist stated too loudly into her Magicphone and everybody gasped with outrage. Well, almost everyone. There was one blond Slytherin too caught up in cursing his childhood 'friend' to pay attention to what was going on at that moment, and one Potions Master too annoyed by the aforementioned hero to grant him one ounce of his precious attention.

"Thank Merlin Mr. Malfoy didn't go through with his evil plans!" Ralph Luton exclaimed at the tops of his lungs. Really, histrionics came too easily for the disgusting prosecutor. "But he still escaped after the final battle, which clearly means he was running away from something. Did you know what it was or even where he had run to?"

"Oh!" Pansy looked quite affronted. "I didn't have a clue that he was planning to run away!" She started sobbing. "We were supposed to get married after graduation; that's what our parents had planned for the both of us since we were born." She looked at the Slytherin with accusatory eyes. "But he left the country without telling me. Just like that! I learned about his departure from Narcissa, who told me Draco had gone away and that he wasn't going to marry me. She didn't even tell me where he was or why he had left, even after I pleaded! I loved Draco Malfoy deeply. He was my first love! I was so devastated!" She conjured a handkerchief and started crying her heart out. The audience let out a collective "Ahhh!". A wizard from the audience stood up and yelled "Bastard!" to Draco, who merely raised an eyebrow and exchanged irritated looks with his godfather.

Brainless, annoying, two-faced bitch!

Luton smiled condescendingly at the crying woman. "I am so sorry you had to go through all that pain, Miss Parkinson. Don't you worry; nothing in this life goes unpunished. Thank you so much for your collaboration." He turned to the presidium. "That will be all, your honour." The prosecutor walked towards his seat once again, getting a slap on the back from his assistant for such a nice job. The old wizard spoke after he had finished taking notes and whispering with his colleagues.

"Does the defence wish to cross-examine the witness?"

"No, your honour," the Potions Master stated firmly; his fingers stippled under his chin.

"What?" Draco exclaimed a little too loudly for a whisper. "Are you going to let her go without putting her in her place?"

Severus looked sternly at the blond. "She spoke the truth. I have nothing to refute." It was final, and Draco just stared, mouth open, at the black-haired man in front of him. A knot formed in his throat, and his mind went totally blank as he desperately tried to fight back the bitter feeling of frustration engulfing his heart.

"Right."

It was merely a murmur, cold and distant as death's breath, and those eyes of fused silver reflected the void inside the young man's chest.

"Miss Parkinson, you may go now." The old warlock said kindly to the witch after regarding the defendant with unreadable eyes. The young woman nodded her reply, and wiping the black tears from her face, stood up from the witness box. As she turned around to leave, a wicked smile appeared on her lips, vanishing as fast as it came.

Where is your trademark smirk now, asshole?, she thought merrily as she walked out of the courtroom, weeping copiously against her stained handkerchief and getting sympathetic looks from everyone around her.

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This is not good, the Boy Who Lived thought as he watched yet another joke for a witness testify against his childhood nemesis. So far Colin Creevey, Dean Thomas, May Whitters, the Malfoy's former caretaker, and Dobby the house-elf had taken turns in telling their opinions to the world about the blond. Thank Merlin Hermione is in Paris for that Potions Conference! Harry didn't even want to imagine what his best friend would have said if she had taken this opportunity to get back at the obnoxious Slytherin… No. That was unfair of him. It wasn't in Hermione's nature to kick somebody when they were down… even if that 'somebody' was Draco Malfoy –which was not something he could say about a certain redhead smirking merrily beside him-.

Still, what really impressed Harry was that Severus Snape, being Draco's counsellor, wasn't cross-examining any of the witnesses. What was going on there? Did the bloody bat want to have his godson sent to Azkaban Prison? Merlin knew Ralph Luton had played exactly the right cards! The audience had cried, laughed, thrown expletives to the blond… Draco Malfoy was actually losing his bloody hearing, and it wasn't supposed to be a trial in the first place! He would not only not get his inheritance; he would be locked in a cell to rot! The way things were going, Draco only had one chance to save his neck, and it would be during his own testimony. He would have to convince everyone in the audience and at the presidium that he had never become a Death Eater, but after all that had been said, the possibilities of that happening were extremely remote. Harry would be testifying as the Auror in charge of the pertinent investigations regarding the Slytherin's case, granted, but by the tinge of things it wouldn't matter if the blond showed his right forearm to the courtroom; everybody had pretty much made up their minds about him anyway.

Gods, Draco! Where have you gotten yourself into?

Oh… wait! What did I just say? Draco? When did bloody Malfoy become 'Draco'

The Golden Boy brushed a lock of jet-black hair from his eyes. At the witness box, Dobby kept going on and on about how Draco used to practice Incendio and other cruel charms on him. Harry Potter couldn't take his eyes off of the blond Slytherin, and it was something that was certainly very unsettling. What he had felt when he saw the obnoxious brat entering the courtroom had scared him out of his wits; not only because he shouldn't be feeling those things for his 'archenemy'. Dra… Malfoy was a guy, for Merlin's sake! How could he feel so attracted to a man? Were those dreams he had been having doing this to him? Why had he felt that force pulling him to the blond? What about Ginny? What about their upcoming marriage? For Merlin's teeth! He had had to cling to every ounce of self-control not to run straight towards the guy and shag him senseless right there and then in the courtroom!

Oh… wait a minute! What have I just said? Shag him?

Gods! I'm seriously out of my mind!

Harry didn't understand why, but he could read each and every one of the well-hidden emotions that crossed the blonde's features. It was like Draco's face was an open book to him, even when to everyone else around them, the blank expression on the wizard's face revealed just that; emptiness, an emotional vacuum. He knew how scared and angry the Slytherin was, and he couldn't prevent the wave of dread running through him. He was truly concerned about Malfoy's destiny, and he wasn't sure he could blame it all on Gryffindor nobility anymore.

"Harry! It's your turn! The prosecutor has called your name three times! Where were you, mate?"

"Uh… what?" Ron's voice cut right through his tumultuous thoughts, and he blinked a few times and looked around to realize that, indeed, he had been called to the witness box. He had been in space, thinking unthinkable thoughts –again- that morning. And he had the Slytherin Prince sitting at the dock to blame.

Hopefully nobody had noticed he had been staring at the oblivious defendant all along.

Harry stood from his seat and walked towards the front of the court; his back squared under his Auror robes.

In, out, he told himself as he inhaled deeply a couple of times, utterly nervous due to his current state of mind and very aware of the thousands of pairs of eyes set on him. He passed the docks and reached the witness box.

And then, he felt it. A sudden fluttery sensation on the back of his neck; an invisible weight piercing him to the spot, overwhelming him with its intensity and sending uncontrollable shivers down his spine. Gods, what's happening to me? He felt the pull again, he felt the lust. He felt he was being attracted by the magnetic field of a supernova imploding into a black hole. He turned around as he took his seat, his hands shaking unnoticeably and almost afraid to look up, and when he was finally facing the courtroom and its expectant silence, he saw them... staring right back at him.

He saw those eyes that shone with the tinge of a thunderstorm gathering in the horizon. Eyes like fused silver, like mercury, like unicorn blood; cold like the coldest of oceans but still completely pure. Eyes that were unbelievably foreign, but completely open, somehow. Eyes that were lighting the path to some uncharted destination, to some unspeakable place… to perdition.

Harry James Potter knew, in that exact moment, that he was forever lost.

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