Disclaimer: Not mine, nyet.
We're only liars, but we're the best
We're only good, for the latest trends
We're only good cause you can have all those famous friends
Besides, we've got such good fashion sense.
-Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song...-Fall Out Boy
we can laugh about this later
issalee
Three Days Later
Harry's quieted, because that's what he's supposed to do.
Nothing much interested him anymore, except for those crimson circles swirling around his arm, marking him as that of another person's. Draco growled when he first saw them, and he still growls.
"Crazy dream," he told Hermione, when she asked him what he thought it was. "It's some crazy dream that I want to wake up in the middle of."
No one listens to him, and that's worse than anything.
The Aurors had arrived yesterday, but it was too late. Tynan and all her forces had disappeared into the night, leaving behind bloody and bruised bodies, and a battered Forest to contend with. The bodies were spirited away, to families and friends, as well as students.
Hermione talks about him.
"You're his mate, do something! He won't talk to us, and Ron and I have to leave! Ginny too! He'll have no one left, soon!"
"I can't. I can't I can't I can't."
"You aren't leaving?"
"No. But everyone else is. I've got Blaise and Carina, but everyone else has been called back. The Ernestines are dead. The Houses have disbanded. The only ones staying are the ones too terrified to move."
"Then move damn it!"
Harry slid down into his covers, and ignored Tonks when she walked in, electric blue hair and shocking blue eyes, "Wotcher Harry" and all.
Harry wants to die.
Hogwarts had emptied out by the week before Christmas. There were so few students that it didn't even really matter what went on. Classes had, of course, been canceled.
Dumbledore was, for once, at a loss. He didn't say anything when he visited Harry; only watched sadly as the boy he had come to love like a son stared aimlessly at the circles on his arm, reminiscing about a voice he couldn't understand. The Headmaster had to leave for days, someone told him, because he had to quell the rumors the Daily Prophet had been printing and make sure the Aurors helped him strengthen the wards.
Harry wasn't surprised to realize he didn't care. He didn't care about anyone, not until he saw Draco again for the first time in days.
They Slytherin had paled visibly, and Harry was furious with himself.
You are his life's blood. You are what keeps him alive.
But let's forget, he told himself. Let's forget.
On Saturday, Tonks came by again, but she didn't say a word before Madame Pomfrey had hurried in and demanded that Harry dress himself. Too tired to object, the Gryffindor did so, ignoring Pomfrey's exasperated explanation that some exercise would do him good.
Tonks took him to Hogsmeade, chatting all the way as though it was just another day, except that Harry never answered any questions directed at him or subtle intrusions to his inner sanctum.
"Here, Harry," she said lightly, stopping in front of a large building. "I've got to get something here for a friend, you want to look around?" She didn't wait, knowing he wouldn't answer, before drawing him inside.
It was an antique shop, but jewelry was sold in copious amounts as well. Harry absently slid his hands in his pockets, and was surprised to feel a money pouch in one. He suspected Madame Pomfrey had slipped it in, but ignored the money; he'd already picked out presents for his friends, way before the December, and had entrusted Hedwig with them. She would know when to take them to them.
So lost in his thoughts was he that he nearly missed it, but a glitter caught in the corner of his eyes and he turned. Harry was immediately rooted to the ground.
Inside of a glass case was a ring. It was made up of the same interlocking circles that were on Harry's wrist, but these had green and white diamonds glittering along the silver edges. The circles alternated in silver and gold, making the ring a true work of art.
Harry was mesmerized; while the circles on his arm made him feel sick, this was oddly comforting. There was a label underneath the case, and he leaned in to better read it.
RinglinkMade by some of the most powerful alchemists, this ring links the wearer to the giver; by love or affection. Only if their bond is pure can the wearer wear the ring, but sufficient amounts of Dark Magic used during the making can have an alternate effect. However, the maker of the ring must then die, in order to complete the process.
200,000 ζ
"What're you looking at, Harry?" Tonks appeared with little warning, and her eyes widened as she eyed the ring. "Two hundred thousand Galleons? I'd love to be on the receiving end of that present. You've got to love someone a lot to spend that much money on them."
Harry looked at her, and then back at the ring. His fingers absently brushed against the leathery skin of the pouch in his pocket; he always carried around all the money he'd removed from his bank account earlier on that summer. He usually brought more than enough, if only so that he could treat his friends. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't have opened his pouch and checked, would she?
"Sir?" A wizened old man, reminding Harry faintly of Ollivander, looked curiously at him. "Will you be taking that, sir? We can even put it on a chain for you, free of charge, with an engraving on either the ring of chain. The engraving will cost a little bit extra, and the ring should come later. You can have a set date, if you like."
Harry looked at the ring again, glinting so innocently in the light. He moved to shake his head, and then stopped.
You will come to me, won't you, Harry?
Green eyes locked with electric blue.
Harry fingered the pouch again.
"Hey."
Harry blinked, turning his head slightly to stare. Draco sat in the chair as though he owned it, eyes narrowed. His skin was pale, reflecting in the moonlight as though it was about to fade away. His hair, long and mussed more than usual, hung in limp locks. Even his teeth, so predatory in their vampiric likeness, seemed to be dulled.
"Come here," Harry said, and he had to repeat it because he hadn't spoken in so long. He'd go down, but he couldn't take anyone with him.
Draco followed his order, watching him warily, and walked over to the bed. He locked eyes with Harry, and sat gingerly on the edge, looking for all the world as though he was approaching a dangerous animal.
"Make me forget, please," Harry said, words spilling from his mouth before he could stop them.
"I can't."
What he told Hermione.
What he told Dumbledore.
What he can't—shouldn't tell Harry.
"You can," he whispered back, cupping Draco's chin in his hands. "You can, and you will, and you'll forget too. Because I need to live, and you need to live."
"You said you were afraid of forgetting," Draco reminded him.
"Some things are meant to be forgotten," Harry argued feebly. "Some things don't have to be remembered."
"Yes, they do." There is a frighteningly sharp atmosphere around Draco, and Harry feels the tension as light fingers skim his neck. "I have to remember what my father and Voldemort were going to do to me, and what you've done to me. If I didn't, do you think I'd be able to do this?"
He leaned over, eyes still open, and laid a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead, exactly where the scar was. Exactly where his memories hid.
Harry couldn't suppress the gasp that left his lips, nor the trickles of liquid that left his eyes. He grasped at Draco's shoulders; so sure about this one thing that it nearly killed him.
"Please," he whimpered, lost. His eyes were closed.
Draco lowered his head, holding Harry as though he were a toy, and when he sunk his teeth into pale skin, walls crumbled.
Harry cried.
Blaise walked into the Hospital Wing, awkwardly holding onto the pile of presents he had tucked under his arms. Behind him, Carina snapped lightly at his every move.
"Idiot, there's a doorframe; do you want to kill yourself? Don't drop that, Ginny told me she's put some very fragile things into that!"
"Eh."
"Blaise, she is your girlfriend, have some respect."
Draco awoke quickly, arms and legs still tangled around Harry's in an embrace that was clearly more intimate than anything. Groggily, he remembered what it was that had awoken him, and it comes again.
"Damn it, she is not my girlfriend!"
"Please, spare me your lies, big brother. Just because she's asked you to keep quiet a little while longer doesn't mean anything."
"What? You say that like it's a bad thing! Her family will hate me!"
"Her mother will want you."
Silence.
"Yes, I suppose I am pretty good-looking."
Draco snorted into the sheets, and reluctantly shifted so that he could sit up. Harry's head fell into his lap, and the Gryffindor slept on, unaware as the two Slytherins trooped in.
"How'd you know I'd be here?" Draco asked, lifting an eyebrow at the amount of presents dumped unceremoniously onto the bed.
Blaise shrugged, and instead of answering shoved a present into Draco's arms. "Merry Christmas, D!"
"Don't call me D."
"Yessir!"
Scowling, Draco unwrapped the present with a cold finality. "From Pansy," he muttered, although he didn't need to. He drew out a brilliantly colored slip of parchment, not purple but not green but not blue either, dark and shadowy and glorious. A quill was wrapped into its center, with feathers of the same color. A note tumbled out, written on plain parchment, and Draco picked it up with a sort of cautious reverence.
Draco,
Be careful with this. It's Parchment from Ilion; write anyone's name on it and you can tell where they are, their health, and who's in the immediate vicinity with them (about twenty yards away).
Only powerful magic can keep a person's location from appearing. I'm not sure if it'll work with your mate, since he's pretty strong himself, but try anyway. Maybe only when he's not using magic.
All my love to you and the Zabinis,
Pansy
P.S. I don't know if I'll be able to come back. Mum wants me to; she's frightened about what may happen, and Dad as well. They don't know if Voldemort will keep them when he's done. Hope for me.
"Brilliant," Draco breathed, eyeing the parchment. "Brilliant, Pansy, brilliant. I really do hope she can get back."
"Shut up," Blaise said morosely. "And all me and Carina got you was a nice, new racing broom."
Draco eyed him sharply. Blaise knew he couldn't use brooms; not with the threat of his wings exploding out behind him and over-balancing him. Carina smacked her brother on the back and smiled sweetly at Draco.
"It's been tuned to your magical abilities. One of the projects Erick was working on before he was—recruited." A sad look flitted across her face before she smiled again. "So if your wings should flutter out like some mad thing, then it'll merely balance along with the new weight! Plus, it doubles as a very much elongated wand, because the bristles dissipate into the broom and you can whack people over the head with it!"
Draco eyed the long, slim package he had been unwrapping as Carina was speaking. It was, indeed, a beauty. He ran his fingers over it, felt the magic thrumming under the wood; a genuine grin made its way across his face.
"Thanks," he said, meaning it.
"Open Theo's!" Blaise said excitedly. While he was one for tender moments, he loved opening presents more, and since all his were done away with watching Draco opening his was the next best thing.
The next few presents were the norm; books that Draco found himself anxious to read, treats from various distant teachers and even a few friends he knew from other places.
"No present from him?" Blaise asked, jerking his head to Harry.
"When would he have time to buy it?" Draco said, absently stroking his fingers through Harry's hair. The Gryffindor's eyes fluttered, but he slept on. "Lummox," Draco said, almost affectionately.
"Ew," Carina said.
"Do you have his presents?' Draco asked Blaise, ignoring her.
"Yeah," Blaise said, pointing to the pile, but then he plucked up three brightly wrapped packages. "But you've still got three left. One from Ginny and Hermione, and even one from Weasley."
"Your brother-in-law-to-be."
"Carina. Shut. Up."
Draco ignored the bickering and fingered Ron's present thoughtfully. He could understand Hermione, who was forgiving in the very sense of the word, second only to Harry, but Ron?
He removed the cheery red and blue (it clashed, he thought languidly) paper, and stared at the foreign object on his palm, lying in the crinkled folds of the paper.
Blaise whistled. "Nice, Draco, very nice."
"What?" The blonde crinkled his nose. "It's a—er—"
"Time Jar-thingy," Blaise said, all the object's glory lost with his words. He ignored Draco's bitter glared and poked at the thing. Immediately, the jar flew upright, standing utterly still on Draco's hand. A thin layer of dirt was on the bottom, and, as they watched, a seed fell into it, and crackling noises ensued.
A thin, green stem spiraled upwards, ending in a large, purple bloom at the end that shimmered for all of five seconds before withering, fading, and crumpling into itself. The stem fell, and the bud did as well, leaving only one seed to fall back.
Draco narrowed his eyes as he remembered talking to Ron weeks earlier, when he had asked the redhead about Harry's past.
"You stuck a Death Eater's head into a jar that made him go through life several times over?" Draco stared.
Ron shrugged. "Maybe I didn't stick his head in exactly, but it got in there. Later on, the Department didn't want the jar because they said it had been contaminated. So I kept it. I don't know why, I don't really want it."
"I would," Draco said wistfully. Time was something he had always wished he could mess with, even just a little. Even within bounds.
Ron looked at him, appraising him, and then he shrugged. "Anyways, after that…"
"Hermione and Ginny got you a really cool, thick book, Draco." Blaise hoisted the volume towards his friend with some difficulty.
"You opened it!"
"You took too long reminiscing about your secret love's little Jar-thingy. It's called Ancient Runes Of The Dark Ages."
"Honestly?" Draco craned his neck to look at the pages without disturbing Harry, who was now making little movements as he slowly awoke. "I've been wanting that for years. Where in Merlin's name did they find it?"
"Apparently, Hermione found it ages ago in the Weasley's home, and Mum Weasley let her take it because no one seemed to care. Ginny told her you wanted it when they were talking, and since Hermione had finished it already, she agreed," Carina informed him.
"So it's a hand-me-down? Ew," Draco said, but he was already reaching out to touch the pages. Slim fingers on his arms stopped him.
"Draco?" Harry's voice was thick with sleep as he struggled to sit up. "'Lo, Blaise, Carina," he muttered absently.
"Merry Christmas!" Blaise crowed, exuberant. "Here's your prezzies, Harry!"
The Gryffindor's eyes widened as he remembered the day, and a soft, almost goofy smile graced his face. "Christmas?"
"Yes, as in the holiday where people usually exchange presents and goodwill and cheer and all that other stuff that makes me want to gag," Draco said, grimacing, but it fell off as he saw the genuine delight on Harry's face.
The Gryffindor dove into his presents with the same relish that Blaise usually lavished upon his own presents.
By the time he had finished and was munching contentedly on Honeydukes chocolate from Remus, seated in Draco's lap, the bed was a mess of wrapping paper.
"You got presents from the teachers," Blaise said solemnly, looking at the chocolates that lay strewn in Harry's lap from McGonagall. Hagrid had sent up a cake, which Harry had discreetly transfigured into a rock and thrown under his bed. looking at the chocolates that lay strewn in Harry's lap from McGonagall. Hagrid had sent up a cake, which Harry had discreetly transfigured into a rock and thrown under his bed. Tonks had given him the various presents from the Weasleys; a nice sweater in sensible red, a new practice Snitch that was more advanced from Ron and Ginny, a basket load of goods from the twin's shop, and Dark Arts books from Charlie, Remus and Bill.
Hermione had, surprisingly, sent him a large book filled with all the MVP's of Quidditch, which had no educational value whatsoever. Harry was delighted with it, but it hit him suddenly as to how much Hermione could be worried if she would send a present like that. Along with Remus' cache of photos (more of Sirius, this time) he was starting to wonder if people had thought he'd been totally brain-dead.
A present from Dumbledore, though, was oddly absent.
"Hey," Draco said, startling him. "Would you guys mind throwing this out and getting us some breakfast? Just tell a house-elf, I know you might want to eat in the Great Hall with the few left."
Blaise gave him a knowing look, which was promptly wiped off his face as Carina dragged him off the bed.
"Of course!" She chirped, and with a wave of her wand, the paper had disappeared. "And no worries, little boys, I shall keep idiot brother away from you all."
"Why is she so happy?" Harry whispered up to Draco.
The blond shrugged. "I have the feeling she's found a new boy toy she's anxious to get to. Besides, she's got a lot on her mind; better to shove it out and be happy this one day."
Blaise and Carina were already on their way out, last goodbyes said, so they missed the darkening of Harry's eyes as he remembered what had put him back into the Hospital Wing. His eyes automatically traveled to the circles on his arm, but then he tore away his gaze. With a quick, jerky movement, he pulled the red sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted him over his head, hissing a little as cool skin that was still a little raw touched the scratchy wool.
"Okay?" Draco said.
Harry shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. He looked back down at his lap, and the various presents strewn there. A sudden urge to curl up and cry hit him, and he had to stuff a chocolate piece in his mouth to stop himself. Scattered pictures of Remus, Sirius and James lay in a pile. Photos of Lily were placed almost reverently alone, and she blinked moodily up at him from the only visible photo. Her hair was purple.
"Merry Christmas."
Harry glanced up in surprise, and found that Draco was holding a box, almost shyly, towards him. It was a simple, gift-wrapped box, but there were no wizarding designs on it that moved or tinkled or caroled.
"I—" Harry began, but then stopped himself and swallowed. "Thanks."
He picked the present lightly from Draco's hand, and lifted the lid slowly, eyes closed. This moment, he decided, in his newly instated darkness, was one that he was going to remember.
There was last night to remember too, and all those lonely nights in the Hospital. Ron and Hermione visited, but never together, and he that was to be remembered as well. Carina didn't visit until nearly three days ago, and all his other friends treaded as though they were on thin ice around him. And he couldn't forget Luna, who had been taken.
"Open it."
Harry didn't need to open his eyes to see Draco had pushed the lid aside. He fingered the object inside the box slowly, touching the smooth metal, smooth stone, and wondered about the length of chain.
"A necklace?" he said, opening his eyes. It was, a slim silver chain ending in an emerald, encased in gold. Harry glared at the gem, experimentally, and grinned lightly when he saw his reflection glaring back. A moody swirl of black was swirling inside, and he smiled even more widely as he saw it fade, until the emerald felt warm in his hand and was a glowing, forest green instead.
"A mood necklace?" he said, chuckling. "Now I've seen everything."
"More than that," Draco said, shifting so that he could take the necklace from Harry's hands and wrap it around his mate's neck. "It calms you. Should you ever be upset, angry, or anything like that, it feeds you the feelings you had during a happy moment. A moment when you were wearing it, of course."
"Like this one."
Gray eyes searched his own, before Draco smiled a little. "Yeah. Like this one."
Harry smiled, and leaned back. Through half-lidded eyes, he fingered the pendant. "So this means I should've gotten you a present."
"No," Draco said, "You shouldn't have. You were sick."
A tapping noise at the window interrupted them both. They stared for a moment, before Draco slid out of the bed and padded silently across the room to the glass. He opened it, and warily eyed the owl that circled the air around him before landing on his shoulder. A package wrapped in brown paper was dangling from its leg, and it held a note in its beak.
"What's it say?" Harry asked as he shuffled over, yawning.
"To Master Draco Malfoy," the Slytherin read, glancing over at Harry suspiciously. "From Master Harry Potter."
Harry suddenly developed a mild obsession with the owl's feathers.
Draco raised an eyebrow, but then decided to dismiss the odd behavior and opened the present with a nostalgic sense of excitement.
Harry fingered a lock of his hair irritably; he couldn't see over Draco's shoulder, and even if he could, he was afraid of what he might see. Would Draco mind? Would it be too much? The pendant around his neck grew warmer, and he felt a slight thrill of anticipation course through him, so that he felt dreamy and content. It was a moment before he realized several minutes had passed by.
"Draco?" he said, stumbling a little over the words. The Slytherin was absolutely still, and the pendant grew cold as dread overtook Harry. A sliver of heat shone through but the bond between them was cutting off most of the magic, so it didn't help much. "I'll return it, if you want—" he began miserably, but then he was being crushed to Draco's chest.
"Potter, why are you so fucking-?" Draco muttered, forgetting to finish his sentence as he kissed a line down Harry's jaw. Held tightly in his hand was the Ringlink, hanging from a chain, with the words For Luck, For Love, For You engraved on it; a saying Harry had once heard Hermione tell him was something pureblood families had used to greet each other when they were courting. But, of course, he wasn't thinking of that.
The Gryffindor, lost in the moment, could only marvel at the fact that at least someone couldn't see his flaws.
Tynan sat at her desk, drowsing lazily.
She was tired, so very tired, but she refused to admit that to Lucius. Malfoy Manor had suddenly become overrun with Aurors, but the deep catacombs beneath it that had yet to be discovered had been used to hastily rid themselves of incriminating evidence. In the meanwhile, they stayed at the home of a lesser-known Death Eater who had been killed. He'd no family, and it would take a while for the news to travel.
"Tynan?"
The blonde blinked, and attempted to pick her head up from the desk, but failed. The past few weeks had been a major drain on her magic, especially now that she was so far from Rabastan and he was locked away behind the better wards Hogwarts now had around them. She would still have been fine, but the effort it took to attack Harry Potter, and brush past the ancestral and modern magic that surrounded him, as well as the spells from his Urian mate, could have killed Albus Dumbledore himself.
"What?" she muttered irritably, watching as her brother swept imperiously into the room. He was worse at hiding his exhaustion than she, and there were light purple bags under his eyes. Wordlessly, Tynan pointed a finger at him.
"Thank you," he said grudgingly as the bags faded, and then disappeared. "Listen, I've got to know what you're planning to do about Bellatrix's prisoner. Lovegood."
"She can do whatever she wants with the brat, she's her prisoner, not mine."
Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Yes, but the girl has something in her I think you might recognize. Bellatrix felt it, certainly, since it's a part of your blood as well."
"Shut up," Tynan said, but she forced herself to stand and totter along with Lucius as he took her towards the room down the hallway where Luna Lovegood was kept, in a state of dreamless sleep. Bellatrix was gone at the moment.
Tynan felt it immediately in the air, a slight crackling of slumbering magic, and she took a few steps into the room before collapsing next to the red velvet sheets of the bed Luna was kept on.
"I sense Seer in you, little diviner," she murmured, and ran her fingers through the blonde hair. Luna whimpered. "No, no, it's been tainted. You Saw too early, your gift is not ruined, but it will be painful when I must use you."
As she spoke, a plan formed quickly in Tynan's mind. She beckoned to her brother, smiling. "Lucius. Tell all the Death Eaters to lay low. Do not expect any activity whatsoever until June first. This little one; I shall work with her myself. I need you to find Genevieve for me, in the meanwhile."
Her brother snorted in disbelief, but it quelled when she looked at him in that cold, calculating, merciless way all Malfoys had always been attempting to achieve. Up until Draco was twelve, he'd believed only Tynan could do it. But then he'd seen the look Draco had shot in second year at Harry Potter—
His son's bloody mate.
"You'll get Draco back this way, trust me," Tynan said mildly. "And Harry Potter will play right into your hands as well, no worries. I've got nearly seven months to think this through. Give me time, and I shall give you results."
Lucius considered her for a moment, and then his options. "You can't hurt Draco," he said.
Tynan crossed her fingers—in front of her, so Lucius could see. He shook his head. "Don't joke. You can't touch him, and I need you to do something else for me. Someone is helping him along; Harry Potter, I mean. There is a certain aura, which I'm sure you've noticed, that wraps around him and gives him peace of mind. It's fading, because now he has Draco, but when we have them both I don't want it back."
Tynan nodded curtly. "I know. I've seen it. I know where it comes from. Shall I destroy it?"
"But of course," Lucius said, nodding. "And I want to see Harry Potter gone along with it."
Tynan cocked her head to the side, and stroked Luna's cheek. Lucius watched in fascination as a wisp of something black and blue slid from the pale skin, sparked, and the faded. His sister smirked suddenly, eyes distant as she formulated more of her plan.
"I'll do it."
Mid-January
"Damn it," Harry said, slamming his hand angrily on the table. "Malfoy, where in all seven hells did you learn how to play chess like this? Even Ron doesn't get me as frustrated!"
Draco shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. "Checkmate, Harry. Fourteenth time in a row, and I know I'm not cheating."
They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room; Blaise was puttering about the large and ornate bookshelf behind them, looking for the most morbid books to read. Carina had disappeared a while ago.
"So," Draco said slowly, as they set up the board again. "Today's the day."
"Yeah," Harry said.
And indeed, it was. After weeks of scouring the countryside and the Forbidden Forest, checking magical signatures, interrogating and jailing nearly one hundred people on various charges, Hogwarts had finally been declared safe again. Students were due to return today, on the Hogwarts Express. Harry had opted to stay behind, here in the common room he had spent so long in. House rules didn't even matter that much anymore, since there were just barely a handful of students.
Add to that the fact that he hadn't heard from his friends since Christmas, because all mail had been suspended shortly afterward, and he felt pretty much isolated. Sure, Draco was his mate, and more often than not they ended up snogging. But when he couldn't hang out with Draco, it was Blaise, who still wasn't that bad.
But there were times when memories hit them, hard, and one or more would be gone. The mood was morbid, and Harry found himself wishing he had Ron or Hermione to talk to. He knew Draco and Blaise had more fluid conversations, and sometimes felt jealous, but then he reminded himself that they had been friends, for Merlin's sake, since they were kids.
"Damn it," Harry said again, as he watched the board swirl before his eyes. "I can't concentrate," he muttered, and leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyebrows. A tendril of comfort wound around him.
"The pendant or you?" he asked, without opening his eyes. During their time spent together, they'd learned Draco could send out his aura, to either calm Harry down or locate him, although since they were inexperienced it wasn't as strong as it could be. It also couldn't reach across longer distances, which Draco stoically kept stating that it was because he wasn't trying that hard.
"Headmaster's been missing," Blaise said absently, stopping Draco from having to explain his guilty look. "Haven't seen him for a few days; Order business?"
"Blaise," Harry said, exasperated. "Do not talk about that in public! Just because we told you there's such a thing doesn't mean you have to pretend like you actually know what goes on!"
"Headmaster's stupid for not inducting me as an outstanding member."
Draco snickered while Harry colored. "Blaise! I'm glad he didn't induct you, you might have spilled everything to the Daily Prophet within the course of a few days!"
"Really, Potter? What did you say to Dumbledore? 'Don't let poor, handsome, cunning, Zabini in, Headmaster—ooh—that's a good Headmaster…' "
Draco started to laugh, full out, and Harry glared at Blaise. "You guys have been laughing every time Blaise says something like that. What's so funny?" The last part came out as a whine.
Blaise turned to the look at Harry, and cocked his head to the side. "Harry, have you ever been to boarding school?"
"HOGWARTS IS A BOARDING SCHOOL."
"Right, right," Blaise said, nodding. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And you're gay. So you must know the brilliant double entendre inserted into the whole Dumbledore's title and everything, right?"
Harry stared at him for a moment, before what Blaise meant finally got through to him. Blaise started laughing as Harry's cheek tinged, and then flamed. "That's—oh, God—that's disgusting! Blaise!"
Draco snorted and Harry rounded on him, chucking a couch pillow in his direction. "Good Headmaster? What was that one three days ago—Headmaster's private lair, when you were talking about his—oh, God—his medals? I thought you meant for courage!"
"It was," Blaise said solemnly. "Would you brave Snape yourself…?"
Harry's expression twisted, but it was wiped quickly off his face as Draco finally righted himself and tossed a pillow in his direction. The blond sat up, and rubbed a hand on his nose.
"That hurt like hell, Potter. I think I should kill you for that."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Do your worst, you juvenile excuse for a Malfoy." He started as Draco glared at him, a true one, which he hadn't seen in weeks. It was enough time for the blond to launch a pillow at him full-force, so strongly that when it hit Harry feathers spilled out from the bag and into the air.
"Look at all that bird we've wasted," Blaise said sadly, twirling a plume between his fingers. Harry snickered and pointed to both of the Slytherins.
"You could be one, with all those feathers in your hair."
"You should talk, fuzzy."
"Excuse me, these are feathers. If anything, I am downy."
Draco shook his head and collapsed onto the couch. "You two are useless. I can't believe this is what I might have been stuck doing for the rest of the school year if actual people were coming back tomorrow."
"I resent that!" Harry said, blowing irately at a feather on his nose. Draco watched his efforts in obvious amusement. Harry glowered at him. "Make one snide comment, and I swear I'll jump you—and not in the good way."
There was a moment's pause, in which Blaise conveniently positioned himself on the side of the couch as Draco cast his eyes down. Harry's triumphant grin was halfway across his face when the blond's soft retort reached his ears.
"Make me, plebeian."
"Do you think he missed us?" Ron asked as he shouldered his bag. He and Ginny were walking towards Gryffindor Tower, anticipation crawling through their very bones.
"Who, Harry? Not a chance," Ginny said sarcastically. When her brother gave her a pointed look, she sighed. "Of course, Ron. Besides, he doesn't know about—the thing yet."
"Hermione's still not speaking to me," Ron intoned miserably. "Oh, Merlin, I never thought I'd miss the day when I heard her nagging me to get started with my homework already, or to shut up about being manly and give her and Harry a hug already whenever we got back from hols."
"You're stupid, did you know that?"
Ron puffed irritably. "Ginny, are you listening?"
"Yes, yes," the redheaded girl said breezily, nearly skipping as they climbed up the stairs. "But she sent you a Christmas present, didn't she? And so did everyone else, including Harry."
"Yes, I know, but—Ginny, stop hopping—you're only saying that to get me to shut up. We've got a crisis on our hands, Ginny! My best friends are never going to speak to me again!"
"Yes, but that's hardly Ginny's fault, now is it?" Seamus appeared in front of them as they turned the corner, Neville and Dean already trailing behind him. "Looks like we're all back; too bad for the professors."
Neville gave the Weasleys a curious look. "What were you talking about, Ron?"
"Nothing," Ginny interrupted. "Just how Harry will react when Ron tells him he's fallen in love with Hermione, and how she will when he tells her he's fallen in love with her."
"Mate," Dean said, shaking his head sadly. "I thought we'd decided this ages ago. Hermione will be happy, Harry will be happy, you and she will shag like bunnies, and Harry will be forced to take care of said byproducts of over-population…it's all been sorted out already."
Ron snorted, but his face quickly became one of complete dejection as they reached the Gryffindor portrait. There was Hermione, standing outside of the common room, leaning against a visibly upset Fat Lady.
"Hey, Herm!" Seamus waved to her, but she shushed him furiously.
"I've been listening to this for a while—I think that Harry might be killing Malfoy! And Blaise is cheering them on!"
Ginny hurried to press her ear to the canvas as well, and frowned. "Or they could be shagging and Blaise could be cheering them on. Ew."
"Open the portrait!" Seamus cried. "My good Lady, we must save our friends! And see some shagging!"
"Seamus, shut up," Hermione hissed, but it was too late. The Fat Lady had swung outwards, knocking the two girls aside. Hermione sat up, rubbing bewilderedly at her head, whilst Ginny gave the back of the portrait a sharp rap.
"Seems you forgot to ask for the password," the redhead exclaimed, rubbing at her knuckles ruefully. "Stupid portrait…"
"Ginny?"
The whole group turned to peer inside of the hole, but their vision was limited. Seamus didn't hesitate before leaping into the narrow crawlway and sliding through, tumbling out on the other end with a soft thump.
A frozen scene greeted him; feathers were still floating softly in the air, and Blaise had stilled in the middle of his attempt to clamber over a chair. He was still grinning inanely at Harry, who had straddled Draco and was stuffing feathers down his back. Draco, meanwhile, was attempting desperately not to laugh.
"I," Seamus said, glancing around with a steadily growing smile as the others slipped in behind him, "am frightened. And yet excited."
"I, on the other hand, am exhilarated." Blaise waved at them all, rolled off the chair with an audible thud, and popped up again. "Welcome back!"
Harry shoved down the last handful of feathers into Draco's shirt and stood up, beaming. In a moment he had crossed the room and was hugging Ron and Hermione with a ferocious amount of happiness.
"Hey, mate, glad to see you too," Ron muttered, blushing bright red. Hermione patted him on the back and smiled.
"You should let us down now, Harry, or else we'll die of suffocation."
"Sorry," the Gryffindor said, blushing bright red.
"Oh, no hug for me?" Seamus pretending to pout as he pulled himself up, but Harry was already making for him, Neville, Dean and Ginny.
"I can't believe it's been a month!" he exclaimed, eyes shining. "I've missed you all like crazy! How're your parents, Ron? And yours Hermione? Seamus, did your dad find out about what happened? And Neville, I heard your grandmother was enormously pleased with you. Dean, did you check out the Muggle football scores? Swore you'd keep me updated at the beginning of the year, remember?"
Ginny slipped away as Harry bombarded his friends with questions. "Hi," she said to Draco, who was levering himself up off the floor and wheezing slightly. "Looks like you too have been having fun. Thanks for getting Harry out of his slump."
Blaise sidled up next to her. "There was no problem, milady. Did you know, I single-handedly faced off against the demons roving his mind, fighting them all off left-handed—even though I'm a righty!"
"Oh, you conceited twat," Draco said, shaking his head. He made as though to swipe at Blaise's head but the enigmatic Italian reached for Ginny's hand and drew her closer.
"Here, Ginevra let us escape to a more welcoming place. Obviously, we are not wanted here," he finished, casting a scathing glance at Draco, who merely sniffed and held his head up.
"Goodbye then," Ginny said, and then smiled. "Hunchback." She gave Draco a hug as he stiffened, patting the pile of feathers, before walking away with Blaise. Draco trailed behind; rolling his eyes at the over-enthusiastic greeting the Gryffindors gave to Blaise.
"Malfoy!" Seamus said, waving widely. "Come here. So, what exactly were you doing to poor Harry?"
"Poor Harry?" Draco snorted. "Have you seen the stuffing under my shirt?" As if to prove his point he pulled the hem away from himself and scowled at the copious amount of brightly colored plumes that fell out of it.
Harry winked. "Only the best for a prince, am I right?"
"I hate you."
"It's mutual, trust me," Harry said, but unlike their past arguments there was an obviously teasing air underneath. "Hey, let's have Dobby bring up some things. We can celebrate."
"In here?" Ron said, still a little reluctant to draw attention to him. "We could take it all to the Room of Requirement instead."
Harry automatically turned to explain what the Room of Requirement was to Draco, but the blond surprised him by merely raising an aristocratic eyebrow and smirking lightly. "It had better be some elegant things you're conjuring up, Weasley."
"They will be!" Ron said, not without a hint of a blush.
Harry soon dropped whatever suspicions were beginning to form as Ron and Draco began arguing; his friends were back, and that was what mattered. Everything could wait, even if it was just for a day.
And oh, how short that wait was.
"Severus?"
Albus Dumbledore moved into the Potions room. His eyes were dulled and he seemed to be more tired than before as he slipped into one of the many chairs beside the Potions master. Snape nodded curtly.
"Headmaster. What brings you here?" He lightly massaged his temples; anything Dumbledore actually came to his territory for must be important.
"I'd like to—you obviously know of the position Harry and Draco are in at the moment, are you not? I fear something might happen to one of them. Their enemies will most likely wait until their next bond is complete, and I'm afraid I won't be able to find a safe place for Harry before the summer is out."
Snape frowned. "They've got a maximum of four months, Headmaster. Whether they like it or not, they're going to have to complete the final step in the bonding process, unless something slows it down."
"Yes, that's true." Dumbledore licked his lips, and Snape realized exactly what the wizard was attempting to say. The former Death Eater said nothing, however; he was finally seeing Albus Dumbledore hesitate over something, and he wanted to have it be long and drawn out.
"I need you to make a potion for me, Severus, that I am sure only you can make. You have four months of course to complete it. Is that enough time?"
"More than enough, if I know what I'm brewing."
Dumbledore averted the searing onyx eyes. "I would like something that can slow down the bonding process between the two boys, something that will restrict some of their emotions so that they cannot—be willing to do it as quickly. Just in case they are considering it now. I've watched them over the holidays and they seem to be just fine."
"You're manipulating students," Snape said, unable to keep silent. "They won't like it. What will you tell Potter?"
"That it's for his own good," Dumbledore said firmly. "He won't have to know all of it. I know that the worst storm will come just before they are totally ready to do this, and that is when I will hand over the potion. They will gladly accept it, with a few well-placed words."
"And when they find out?"
Dumbledore leaned back, and polished the rim of his glasses with his sleeve without removing them from his face. "They will forgive me, Severus, or they won't. Either way, don't expect me to forgive myself."
They held each other's gazes for a moment before Snape broke contact, standing up in a fashion that made sure his chair scraped along the ground. Dumbledore winced, and held out a hand.
"Please, do not think of me so harshly. He is your godson, I understand, and like a son to you himself. But he will be in even more danger if he is bonded to the arch-nemesis of one of the most powerful men on Earth."
"What if it was you?" Snape snapped. "What if it was you I had to protect Draco from? What if I'm supposed to say no to you?"
Dumbledore's eyes regarded him sadly.
"Then, Severus…let us hope that you can make the right decision, and that I am not quite as evil as you think me to be."
Snape eyed him warily for a moment longer, before he swept out of the room, muttering under his breath about finding new ingredients. In the Potions room, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, one of the greatest wizards known to wizard kind, placed his head on a desk in a weary motion.
"Harry," he said softly. "Oh, how I have failed you."
Sorry about long wait. On the plus side, let me tell all of you something:
FIFTEEN PAGES.
I typed this all up tonight, my fingers hurt, I cannot watch any more Loveless or Fruits Basket episodes because my computer is crap but if anyone knows any sights where I can watch them please drop me a line, and it seems to me that I got a scholarship the other day but I've been too distracted by the fact that my cellphone disappeared to really care.
Ah, thanks for reminding me, Jools. After finding my inbox swamped with messages from you I began to feel a little guilty...and plus, Creme De Leche ice cream is good for a grieving soul, especially when all they want to do is type fanfiction and cry over how they can't decide whether Yuki should get together with Tohru or have an illicit relationship with Kyou.
And I have seen all the Gravi episodes.
Solizlet was right.
I may just not have a life after all.
I think I shall attempt to actually sleep now. Despite the fact that it won't work, but my ranting space has been used up and I probably should just write a rant to all my teachers who have decided midterms should all be in the SAME FECKING WEEK.
I love you all, honestly I do.
