Chapter Eight: Reactions

Harry went down to breakfast the next morning grinning widely to himself. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks behind his back as they descended the stairs; they knew that something up but they weren't sure what. Harry plunked himself down in his usual spot and grabbed a pumpkin muffin off of a nearby platter. He had just raised the muffin to his lips when a voice behind him caused him to freeze.

"POTTER!"

The entire Hall fell silent after an excited murmur. The older students had been very disappointed at the lack of action between their two favorite arch-rivals this year. Everyone leaned closer, watching with baited breath for the fight they knew was soon to come. Harry put down his muffin, but didn't turn around.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he asked, his voice dripping with Slytherin-like scorn.

"How dare you?" the blond spat. Harry raised an eyebrow and finally slid off the bench and sauntered over to where Draco was standing. Nearby students thought his eyes were darkened by blood lust, and were awed by it. Draco alone knew that it was indeed lust, but of a rather different sort.

"How dare I what, Ferret-boy?" Harry asked with a smirk. The gasp of the crowd was audible. Now they knew they'd get to see some interesting hexes. Draco growled low in his throat.

"You know what I want, Potter."
"I might. What makes you think I'm going to give it to you?"

"You better, Potter. I'm warning you." Draco took a step closer.

"Ohh, I'm scared. You gonna make me, pretty boy? I'd like to see you try."

Draco stepped closer again, his nose brushing Harry's. The feel of Harry's breath on his skin almost distracted him, but he forced himself to remain focused. They had a spectacle to cause here. "Watch me," he growled, soft but still loud enough for the silent Hall to hear. He leaned forward that last inch and his lips connected with Harry's.

Chaos broke out as half of the student body, who had been leaning as far off the benches as they could in order to catch the low conversation, fell off their seats onto the hard wooden floor. The only ones safe from this were the ones who had been seated on the opposite benches, and thus leaning over the table during the argument. Even then a few of them slid off, fell backwards, or whacked their heads on the table or into their plates. A certain tight-lipped Deputy Headmistress, who had been half out of her chair in preparation of preventing blood from spilling, picked herself hastily off the floor and shot a glower at Dumbledore, who attempted to hide a grin as she stuffily brushed nonexistent dust off her robes. After a moment of shock, the other students recovered themselves enough to start shouting questions, but by then the objects of curiosity had disappeared.

"That," Harry announced, sprawling himself across Draco's bed, holding his aching sides as he gasped for breath, "was the funniest thing I've ever seen. Did you see McGonagall?"

"That was the best part," Draco said, grinning at his boyfriend. "I've never seen her look so... what's the opposite of composed? Decomposed?" Harry snorted and Draco smiled and continued. "Dumbledore didn't seem to surprised though."

"Does Dumbledore ever seem surprised at anything?" Harry pointed out.

"True."

"Snape didn't seem to shocked either," Harry mused, looking at his boyfriend. Draco shrugged.

"Well, he and I are pretty close. He knew that I had a crush on you. He'd never show it if his life depended on it, but I bet he's even pleased that you return my affections."

Harry snorted again. "Yeah, right."

"Well, we've got to go down to Potions in a few minutes. Ready to face the shocked masses again?"

"Sure. With you I feel able to face anything," Harry said, half-jokingly.

"Oh, now that's not corny," Draco joked back, but he felt a silly smile spread across his lips as he followed Harry out the door.

Harry and Draco slipped into the Potions classroom only minutes before class began. Harry felt all eyes on him and his boyfriend as the grabbed the table in the back and started to set up their cauldrons. Neither of them looked up when Snape swooped in.

"Potter. Malfoy." They paused in their pre-class preparation at the sound of his voice. "Because of that... exhibition... in the Great Hall this morning, I feel obligated to warn you that any displays of public affection will result in a deduction of fifty house points from Gryffindor." Harry looked finally look up.

"Only from Gryffindor, sir?" he asked carefully. Snape sneered.

"Yes, Potter, only from Gryffindor." He cast a threatening eye over the other Gryffindors in the class, who had begun grumbling.

"Oh, sure," Harry muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Draco as Snape began giving instructions. "He's thrilled." Draco just shrugged and shushed is boyfriend, trying to hear what Snape was saying. The two boys managed to not display affection—at least not overtly—but a glance here or there and an 'accidental' brush of fingertips every now and then proved to the observant class that the affection was definitely there. They waited impatiently for double Potions to be over so they could bombard the new couple with questions about how in Merlin's name they had ended up romantically invovled instead of murdering each other. Yet again, the two boys managed to escape right after the bell, leaving their frustrated classmates to turn upon Ron and Hermione for answers.

Hermione and Ron caught up with Harry waiting outside the DADA classroom. Hermione ran her hand through her mussed, bushy hair, and gave Harry an irritated look. "You're going to have to face them sometime, Harry," she pointed out, quickly checking her reflection in the polished suit of armor next to the door. Ron smiled and grabbed her hand to prevent her from messing with her hair anymore.

"You look beautiful," he assured her, making Hermione blush deep red and Harry smile. It was so good to see his best friends being honest about their feelings.

"Wotcher, Harry!" a voice called, and Harry turned to smile at scarlet-haired Tonks. She gave him a grin and held up her hand for a high-five. Harry high-fived her, ignoring Ron's confused look, leaving Hermione to explain the Muggle gesture to him. "That was great, this morning! The most excitement I've seen yet! And I never thought I'd see that look on McGonagall's face. Priceless, that was. Especially when she fell out of her chair. I've never laughed so hard in my life!"

"So you don't mind that I'm dating Malfoy?"
"Why should I care who you date? It's your life. As long as he knows that if he ever hurts you that I, as a DADA teacher, know plenty of interesting curses to inflict upon his lovely blond self."

"Careful, Tonks. You don't want me to think you're after my boyfriend, do you?"
"Harry, love, my boyfriend is so much more interesting than yours. I'm mean, come on. Yours doesn't turn furry and howl at the moon once a month. How boring." They both laughed as they took their places in the classroom.

Despite the initial shock, it didn't take long for Draco and Harry to become old news. After a few days Harry was more worried about his DADA project than he was anything else. As he sat in the library wrapping up the final details in his Parvulus project he watched his fellow students frantically flipping through pages and thanked Merlin that Hermione had driven him to start early.

The next day Harry entered double DADA with butterflies in his stomach. He hated speaking in front of the class. As soon as he sat down, Tonks bounced in and smiled at him.

"Good morning, Harry!" she said gleefully, clearly excited to see what her students came up with for their projects. Harry gave her a feeble smile in return. "Oh, just to warn you, I'd like you to go last. Your second presentation will cause quite a stir, so it'll be a good closer." Harry nodded, but was inwardly groaning. He had hoped to be one of the first to go so that he could get it over with. The other students started to wander in, all looking nervous and exhausted from a hard night of last-minute research. Except for Hermione, of course.

Harry watched, half-asleep, as his fellow classmates went through dozens of different spells and wizards. Harry sat up when Hermione and Ron presented, but more out of respect for them than any actual interest. Finally, it was his turn. He stood up and walked to the front of the classroom on wobbly knees.

"I researched the Parvulus Curse," he announced, glad his voice didn't sound to squeaky. He tapped his wand on Tonks pedestal, and a large holographic diagram of a human head appeared. The outer skull was was transparent, allowing the audience to see the details of the brain through it. "Now, the effect of this curse is that the victim is forced to regress mentally to a childlike state. The spell permeates the brain and locks off every memory older than five years old; sometimes younger." He prodded his hologram with his wand and a yellow glow soaked into the folds of the brain, saturating all except a small portion. "This makes them completely helpless and at the mercy of the caster. The only known cure is the spell adultus, but it requires a very strong will on the part of the victim—something that is often lost due to the regression, so it is rarely successful." He paused, then asked, "Any questions?" A bored silence filled the room.

"Thank you, Harry," Tonks said, scribbling on a piece of parchment. There was a smattering of half-hearted applause as Harry vanished the hologram and gathered his notes. He glanced at Tonks, who finished what she was writing and smiled.

"All right, Harry. When you're ready," she said. Harry noticed some odd looks from his classmates, and began to feel self-conscious. Why did I agree to this? he asked himself. Tonks, too, noticed the looks, and explained "Harry has agreed to do two presentations. This next one is important so pay attention, you lazy layabouts." Harry cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. He waved his wand and the hologram of a young man appeared, just a little taller than Harry. Harry looked at the man for a moment, remembering strongly the last time that he'd seem him in this form. He looked exactly as he had the night he had pulled Harry into his diary to show him a lie about Hagrid.

"This," Harry said in a new, strong, clear, determined voice, "is Tom Riddle. Has anyone else—besides Ron and Hermione—ever heard of him?" No one raised their hands. With another wave of his wand, the words Tom Marvolo Riddle appeared in large black letters, hovering in midair. He poked them and watched them rearrange, now recalling the night Riddle had revealed his true identity to Harry. He heard the class gasp as the letters settled into their new order.

"Yes, Riddle is also Voldemort." The entire class flinched. "This is an image of him at the age of seventeen. He was a student here at Hogwarts many years ago. It was he who opened the Chamber of Secrets the first time, and then blamed it on Rubeus Hagrid, who was also in school at that time. Riddle was born of a Muggle father and a witch mother. His mother died giving birth to him and his father deserted them, so he was raised in a Muggle orphanage until he entered Hogwarts. He changed his name to Voldemort while still in school, but only his friends knew this false identity. After graduating, Riddle began the first of his many murders with his uncle, and then his father and grandparents. He killed and searched for power and immortality for years until he finally disappeared. And, as we now know, he as reappeared. Any questions this time?" Hands went up. Harry felt for a moment like Binns must have when Hermione asked questions about the Chamber of Secrets and incited the interest of the class. "Mr. Finnegan?

"Why did he disappear?" Seamus asked, fixing Harry with an uncharacteristically serious stare. Harry met his stare evenly.

"He tried to kill me after my mother sacrificed herself for me. There is powerful magic in a gift such as that. It's not because I'm different from anyone else," he finished firmly. The bell rang, saving him from answering any more questions.

"Class dismissed," Tonks called over the bustle of people gathering their stuff. "Terrific projects, everyone." Harry caught her approving glance as he left. He felt oddly drained, but relieved to have that over with.

Weeks went by. It was well into October and many of the students had begun getting excited about Halloween. Harry and Draco spent their evenings curled up by the fire in Draco's room while working on homework. At least until the last of their willpower disintegrated and they ended up making out, wrapped up in each others arms until well after curfew.

Harry was groggily eating breakfast in the Great Hall after one such late evening when a certain female redhead came bouncing in.

"Morning, Harry!" Ginny chirped, slipping into the empty space next to Neville and snatching the last chocolate doughnut off the silver platter on the table.

Harry glanced at her blearily. "How the hell are you always so chipper in the morning?" he demanded. Ginny shrugged cheerfully and took a huge, unladylike chomp out of her doughnut.

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, dropping her donut on the table and—after a warning look at Neville—stuffing her hand into the pocket of her robes. After a moment of searching she dragged out a rather rumpled piece of parchment. "Here, Harry, I was supposed to give this to you." Harry unfolded the parchment, tried to smooth it out a bit, and glanced over it.

"How do you keep getting these, anyway?" he asked. She shrugged again.

"Demelza gave it to me, and said Justin Flinch-Fletchley gave it to her, who said Ernie McMillan gave it to him..."

"Okay, okay. I get it," Harry said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "You'd think someone like Dumbledore would have a better method of getting a hold of people."

"You'd think," she agreed, then froze. "Hey! Where's my doughnut? Neville!" she cried.

"Hey!" Neville protested, wrinkling his nose. "I didn't touch your gross, slobbered-on doughnut, thank you very much."

The older Weasley, who was standing behind Neville and Ginny, winked at Harry while licking chocolate crumbs off his fingers. Harry couldn't suppress his smile and Ginny, catching it, spun around.

"Ron!" she shrieked, flinging herself on her brother and bringing them both crashing to the floor.

"Merlin, woman," Ron gasped, laughing and struggling to get out from underneath her. "It was just a doughnut." He hauled himself to his feet and brushed off his clothes.

"It was my breakfast," she pouted.

"Here," he said, scooping an apple out of the fruit basket and tossing it to his sister. "You need to be watching your girlish figure anyway."

"Are you calling me fat, Ronald Weasley?" she asked, her voice lowering threateningly.

Taking advantage of the chaos Harry slipped silently away, laughing to himself. It was time to see what Dumbledore wanted. Again.