Chérie, parchments and quills.
Chapter Seven - Playing with fire

Saturday, September 11th 2010

Harry sat a bottle of Odgen's Olde fire whiskey down on the table, with the two glasses already there amongst a range of finger foods Kreacher had brought up - seeing as 6pm was the middle of dinner time, and he didn't know if Draco intended on eating before he arrived. Harry had eaten at lunch time, and he would be perfectly content with the food Kreacher had brought up. He was wearing black jeans and a pear-green checkered shirt. It was nearly 6pm, and Harry checked the note he'd received from Draco earlier.

'Harry,

If you're still insistent on enduring my company this evening,
have the whiskey ready for 6pm.

D. Malfoy

Yes, it was definitely 6pm that Draco intended on arriving. He had ten minutes until he showed up - to decided if he should prepare coffee or not as well, but Harry found himself frowning at Draco's handwriting instead. It looked very familiar the way his O's looked like small hair curls, or the way his M's looped in the middle, but he couldn't place why it looked so familiar. Maybe it was familiar to a student's handwriting, that would probably be it.

Six minutes left.
Harry shook his head - no! He would leave the coffee for now; he could always make some when Draco was here if they decided on it.

Four minutes left.
He wondered if he should stand by the door - - no! If he answered the door too quickly then Draco would know he'd been waiting for him. He sat on one of the old-but-comfortable dark-blue armchairs that he'd conjured instead, a small rectangle table between them - a small wooden thing that was rather dark, and tapped his fingers as he waited – fidgeting with his hands.

Two minutes remaining.
His fingers continued to fumble together as he waited, and he wondered why he was so nervous this time around. He didn't want to impress Draco, per se, but he also didn't want him to have a reason to moan or insult his abilities as a host. 'Which is ridiculous.' Thought Harry.

He jumped when he heard three smart raps at the door, he almost tripped over the coffee table in his initial rush to open the door. He took a calming breath – blew away the 'Wrackspurts' as his old friend would say, and then went to open the door.

"Evening Potter … Harry." Draco nodded.

Harry smiled and welcomed him in. Draco had been doing that a lot this week – saying 'Potter' then following with 'Harry' after a short pause, when they'd seen each other at dinner or in between classes. Harry guessed it was his way of reminding Harry of their friends - not friends' status. 'Stupid Pure-blood customs'. He thought to himself.

"Sit where ever!" Harry smiled, going to the whiskey. He lifted the bottle for Draco to see. "I can do coffee if you'd rather have something else."

"Scared that you can't handle your drink, Potter." Draco's left eyebrow raised on its own – something Harry almost frowned at. He couldn't lift one eyebrow, and it was so tempting to try that he almost did. Draco had such expressive features when his wanted to use them.

"Course not!" Harry shook his head, pouring two glasses of the tawny coloured Whiskey. He handed a glass to Draco before sitting down in the arm chair opposite him. They both sipped at the whiskey, and Harry felt a slight burn as the sweet flavour slipped down his throat. Draco looked around after his first sip, and over at the food. "Help yourself. I didn't know if you had eaten or not. I didn't bother with dinner tonight personally."

"Thank-you." Draco nodded once. "And no, I haven't had anything since lunch."

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling awkward. They'd managed to start up a conversation last time fairly easy, so what was with the uncomfortable silence this time? He tried not to stare at Draco, but he glanced up and smiled as Draco caught his eyes. 'Merlin – they were some spectacular coin-grey eyes.' Harry though, coughing once as he looked away. People always said he had some shocking green ones, but he didn't think his were anything special.

Harry put down his glass, deciding anything would be better than sitting their staring, and went to the food table. He filled his plate with mini sausage rolls, chicken nuggets, and some stuffed vol-au-vents. He didn't notice Draco behind him until the man spoke.

"Do you always have a strong proclivity for meat?" Draco asked, going for his own plate. Harry had to think what that word meant for a moment and frowned, but it seems he took to long. "Prefer Potter. I've noticed you always chose to fill your plate with meat." Draco explained, adding some salad, a few stuffed vol-au-vents, and devilled eggs to his own plate.

"I knew that." Harry mumbled. "And yep, I prefer meat. Especially beef."

"Mmm. I'd advise more greens, but I fear my concern for your diet would be ill received." Draco drawled.

Harry laughed, causing Draco to raise both his eyebrows. Harry almost dropped his plate, having to sat it down while tried to stop laughing.

"Dare I ask?" Malfoy drawled again, completely confused, but Harry just started laughing harder.

"Sorry, Draco." Harry finally chuckled, rubbing his eyes from the tears that had formed there. He exhaled, picked up his plate, and went to sit down in the arm chair. Draco followed his lead, waiting for an explanation. "You just reminded me so much of Professor Severus Snape sometimes. For a moment, I couldn't stop visualizing him saying those words to me."

"In your book, you swear blind that he was a spy for Dumbledore - that he was a good man. But I thought he hated you and vice versa?" Draco asked, eating his way delicately through a vol-au-vent. The crumbs neatly caught on the plate.

Harry wondered how much he wanted to share with Draco. He sipped at his whiskey, deciding that it couldn't hurt to be a little more open with the man.

"He was in love with my mother." Said Harry - to his plate of food. His head shot up however, when he heard Draco chocking on his vol-au-vent. "You alright?" Harry asked with a wince.

Draco nodded, but he was coughing an awful lot. Harry rushed to get him a glass of water, which Draco took gladly. The blond then scurried like a frightened mouse back into his sophisticated composure - slamming his mask back into place and trying to hide his embarrassment.

"You must be joking?" Draco asked hesitantly. Harry shook his head with a sad smile.

"It wasn't reciprocated." Harry explained. "Severus, met my mother before their first year at Hogwarts - they lived closed to each other in Cokeworth. They became very good friends, but Severus made mistakes and their friendship suffered for it. He never stopped caring for my though." Harry paused and sipped at his whisky. "He hated my father, and by extension, he didn't like me - I think I reminded him to much of James. My father saved his life once, but it was my godfather's fault that he needed saving at all. He repaid that life debt in first year, using a counter curse on my broom when it started bucking. Do you remember that?"

Draco nodded, obviously overwhelmed with all the new information he had just received.

"Blimey Potter - Harry. That certainly sheds some light on things I've wondered for years. Professor Snape had it out for you from day one - everyone could see that, and I always suspected it was more then the fact that you were a Gryffindor." Draco frowned in thought, sipping his whiskey - his index finger tapping the glass.

"For all he hated me, he wasn't happy when he realised that I had to die. I don't think he did hate me though - not really. He hated the fact that half of me came from James, yes, and he expected me to act like my father, but he couldn't completely avoid the half that was my mother. I also think that a lot of it was a cover. He had to show me a great dislike because he knew that Snake-face would return at some point. If dear old Tom looked into Severus's mind, well, it had to be believable."

"Professor Snape was a great occlumens though. He'd have to have been, if he was able to fool the - Tom, for so long that is." Draco wondered aloud, stopping himself from using 'The Dark lord' as his title - he didn't want to give the man the title of 'lord', and Tom seemed fitting seeing as the man had apparently hated it.

"That's just it though. He would have had to have let Tom into his mind to show his loyalty, at least some parts. I think Severus was just that good - that he could hide the information away that he really didn't want Tom to see, while making it seem like he was opening his mind to him."

"I think my respect for the man just tripled." Draco breathed. "Do you know how hard that would actually be Potter - Harry?" Draco lent forward with a frown; his food mostly eaten now.

"I think you're about to tell me, but I know that it would have been hard." Harry sipped at his whiskey, eyes still on Draco over the glass.

Draco did elaborate on the difficulty of Occlumency, and how he was good at it but could never have achieved that level of the skill - the level that Harry believed Severus to have achieved. They talked about Severus for a long while, getting through three more glasses of whiskey in the process. Eventually they moved on to what Draco had been doing in France for the many years he had been out of England.

"…She went up to mother and asked if we stocked 'Charming coitus charms, by Fanny Lotus.'" Draco laughed from his position on the floor, his face red with humour, and a fifth glass of fire whiskey in his hand.

"She didn't?" Harry laughed wholeheartedly. "What did your mother say?"

"She kindly handed the teenager over to me. Her face was beet red."

"The teenager's, or your Mothers?" Harry asked, trying not to laugh anymore because his side was already burning … or that could be the fire whiskey … or both.

"Both!" Draco burst out laughing – his laughter was breathy and almost quiet though, his body rocking with mirth. His pale skin was washed with a warm glow, his eyes danced with merriment, and he had to put down his drink so that he could double over and laugh freely.

"Well, what did you do?" Harry asked through his own laughter, gripping at his side.

"I found her a book on abstinence and told her we didn't stock the book she wanted." He struggled to get out his words. "She …. She left in such a hurry, throwing the book down on a shelf on the way out."

The two of them just laughed until the humor finally abated, chuckling for a while after. Harry couldn't imagine what he would have done if a teenage girl of about seventeen had walked into a store he owned, and asked for a book on sex. Right now, however, he was floating in the radiance that Draco was giving off. Harry had never seen him so carefree and … happy. He looked radiant and … gorgeous.

Harry didn't lose his smile, but he made a mental note that he needed no more fire whiskey tonight. He'd dated enough men to know how it goes: you get drunk, you kiss, maybe shag, then wake up regretting last night. He really didn't plan on doing that with Draco; it would be so awkward if he had a one-night fling with a work colleague, but it was on his mind - no doubt about that. Draco must be in with the top ten best looking men of Britain, he secretly thought to himself.

Draco suddenly stumbled to his feet to use the restroom, and Harry laughed as he almost walked into the door frame. Harry pulled himself up onto the armchair, just catching platinum-blond hair vanish into the bathroom, and then Tau came to his mind quite suddenly.

He couldn't think of such lascivious things he'd liked to do with Draco's body, when Tau was most likely waiting for his reply! He suddenly felt very naughty indeed, and quite self-abashed.

Merlin – he was drunk!

Harry started thinking that he must like pure-bloods, because Tau was also a pure blood - Draco also had blond hair, and they both-

"Harry." Draco caught his attention, cutting of his train of thought. "I think I better return to my room; my legs feel like jelly." He slurred ever so slightly, and as if to prove his legs had lost their proper function, Draco had to grab the dining table to prevent a fall. He chuckled as he stood up straight again.

"Perhaps you're right. It is getting late." Harry slurred slightly, wobbling as he stood to see Draco out. "I had fun tonight Draco." Harry smiled.

He really had enjoyed Draco's company, but now, as he looked into stunning grey eyes, he wondered what kissing him would feel like. But no more then a second later did he think of Tau again. He didn't want to betray the trust he had started to gain with the mystery man: even if Tau would never know, he most certainly would. He had no intentions of leading either man on either, It would only end badly. He was also well aware that he was drunk, and his desire to make out was most likely due to that – it was a flaw that had resulting in him waking up with a few unknown men from muggle bars before.

"I did too Harry. You're not a total failure of a host you know. Perhaps we should do this again sometime." Draco smiled, sliding out the door and into the draughty corridor.

"I'd like that. Will you be okay getting back? It a long way down to the dungeons." Harry frowned slightly as Draco wobbled.

"I'll be perfectly fine." Draco tried to ensure him, but as he went to walk away, he nearly tripped.

"I'm not so sure of that. And you have to get down stone stairs…" Harry knew he'd be useless walking down with Draco - he was just as bad, but then he had a thought. "Kreacher!"

Kreacher appeared and bowed, looking slightly annoyed at having been called so late.

"Kreacher. I would appreciate it very much if you could get Mr Malfoy safely to his rooms. I fear we drank too much fire whiskey." Harry explained. Kreacher bowed again, muttering nonsense, and then he walked over to take Draco's wrist. Harry had fears of Draco falling down the stairs – moving stairs at that.

"Harry, I'm fine really I-"

"I insist Draco! I won't be able to live with myself if something happened." Harry pleaded.

"Alright!" He relented. "Goodnight Harry."

"Goodnight Draco."

Then Kreacher disappeared, taking Draco with him. Harry shut and locked his door, and headed straight to bed. He would clean up tomorrow. He flopped down on the bed in his clothes, and was out like a light.

Friday, September 17th 2010

Harry had just finished third period and was done for the school day. He levitated two boxes into the small box room in his private chambers, and then made himself a coffee. He soon plopped himself down on the edge of his bed and pulled out the magical parchment and quill he had left behind today.

Message from Tau:

Morning mon chéri,

A white picket fence is very cliché, but the rest is almost perfection. I enjoy potion making, so a lab would be added to my own property. I also enjoy a vast sized garden, the seasons each bring wonderful views and evidence of rebirth and change. That such a change can bring so much new, yet remains the same in its cycle each year, is rather astounding don't you think?

My own home would have a large library, a window seat to read next to the window, and hundreds of books to peruse at my will.

If you have never really had a 'home' as you say, and only a place to live, I hope that one day you will find one. Family-love; it is the key ingredient in any house to become a home.

Tau. x

Message end-

Harry smiled lovingly at that notion. What would it really feel like to return 'home' to a family that wanted you, that loved you, that was all yours?

They had shared deeper desires with each other since September 7th, and he would be lying if said he wasn't crushing over the illusion he was creating of this man. It was an illusion - to him at least, because until he met the man he couldn't be sure if the real version was … well, real.

He could say he was besotted with the Tau, but he wouldn't dare ask to meet the man yet - he was scared his perfect illusion would shatter, it was to soon. At some point, they would have to meet. He couldn't live his life on parchment, and what if Tau was as real as his words implied … he would miss out on something that could be wonderful - a physical relationship instead of a parchment one. Someone he could return to, share his bed with, hold hands and sit next to, and share his life with. Someone he could kiss, love, and maybe spend a life time with. If he clung to his parchment, whether or not Tau became the man for him, he would miss out on a very real relationship.

For now, he would continue with his quill and parchment, and continue to crush on the illusion he was painting in his mind - it was such a splendid and delicious illusion.

Message to Tau:

Afternoon my chéri,

Each season of the year certainly has its own beauty, but for some, certain times unfold particular memories. I love the winter. Summer holds less-desirable memories for me, as does autumn and Spring. Although Summer is the worst. I won't deny the eternal reminder that everything must end to begin anew, or that yes, each season has its own offerings to give, but they also remind me of the past.

Time has a funny way of remining us of things lost to the past as it continues on ahead to the future.

If I had a 'home', I wouldn't care if it has a white picket fence or a five-foot stone wall, or even a moat … all that would matter to me is that my family were safe. I wouldn't care if it was white, black, or green, as long as it was filled with happiness and love.

Padfoot x

Message end-

Harry drunk his coffee now that it had cooled down, and waited to see if Tau would reply. He had things to do before the day ended, and he had work to mark. Once he'd tipped back the last sip of his drink, he decided to come back to the parchment later.

He left his empty cup on the dining table, went to the small box room to gather a list, and then left his chambers. He had to go and speak to Draco about a few potions he would need in two weeks-time; It wasn't quite lunchtime yet, so he would try the potions classroom first.

Harry knocked on the potion classroom's door. He didn't have to wait long until Draco answered it with a frown before he realized who it was. Draco appeared to be slightly curious of his unannounced arrival, but he realized the man still had a class in session. Before Harry could apologise for interrupting, Draco spoke first.

"Come in Mr Potter." Draco moved aside and gestured him in. It was obvious that Draco was referring to him in the formality because they had an audience of students. "I was just dismissing the class. You can wait at my desk." Draco pointed to his chair behind the teacher's desk.

Harry was tempted to just plop his butt on the edge of the desk, but this wasn't his classroom so he sat in the chair as instructed. He felt a little strange sitting in Draco's chair, and quite a few of the sixth year Gryffindor and Slytherin students frowned between him and Draco. Draco regained their attention quickly and continued as if Harry hadn't just interrupted them – which made Harry all the more curious; he expected Draco to complain about his timing and tell him to piss off to be honest – maybe not quite in those words but to that extent, not welcome him in and offer up his chair.

"As I was saying…" Draco glided between the student tables as he spoke, not unlike that of one Professor Snape but with more elegance. "I expect you all to know how to create the Hiccoughing Solution by your next potion lesson. The potion takes precisely forty-three minutes to make – if you are competent, and seeing as your next lesson with me is last period on Monday, anyone who fails to make the potion correctly will stay behind. I suggest you familiarise yourself with the process thoroughly, because there will not be time during the lesson. Any questions?"

"Yeah. What's he doing here." Silas Avery, turned his Hazel eyes to glare at Harry.

"Detention Mr Avery!" Draco's voice was cold and icy, piercing through silence.

If Harry had been his student, he would have feared for the rest of his school year, but Avery just sighed angrily.

"Fifty point will be taken from Slytherin…" Draco glared at the boy. "And you will remain behind. The rest off you may be dismissed!" Draco was obviously angry.

Harry went to stand and talk to Draco, but the blond man just shook his head. Harry remained seated, watching as the other students hurried to leave the classroom – only a few of them even said – "Good bye Mr Malfoy." The anticipation of what Draco would do now was making him uncomfortable for some unknown reason, he felt out of place, but he was curious about the blonde's student teacher relationship and how he would deal with Mr Silas Avery. It appeared that the students held apprehension in regards to their potions teacher, much like they had done when professor Snape had been their potions teacher in 1991. Harry never feared Severus Snape – he was used to being treated unfairly by the Dursleys, but the man was an arsehole … yes, that about summed it up – a great man, a hero, but an arsehole!

When everyone had departed the classroom, Draco folded his arms and sneered at Silas. It took a lot for Harry to stop comparing Draco to Severus, to stop thinking about Severus, but he was determined to listen to the blond and not let him mind wander.

"Congratulations Mr Avery, you are at the apogee of my patience." Draco drawled, keeping his voice calm, but Harry could almost feel his rage heating the room. "You have no right to address another teacher with such blatant disrespect. I don't care who you are. You may not like everyone of your teachers, I may not like all of my students, but respect is fundamental if you wish to achieve anything in your life. This is your last warning Mr Avery: If your behaviour and attitude does not improve, if you anger me again, or if you so much as cough wrong… I will see to it that you are expelled. Do I make myself clear?"

Avery held his head up high, eyes fixed on Draco's. It looked like he was going to argue, and Harry wouldn't be surprised if he did. Silas Avery was a difficult and argumentative child, one that acted extremely entitled and obstinate. Harry use to have difficulties with the boy in defence against the dark arts in the past, often ending with him ignoring rules and injuring other students. Harry had yet to prove that he had been hurting other students for the sheer fun of it, and were not, as Silas had claimed, 'an accident'. However, with too many incidents, Harry had refused to accept him for N.E.W.T level defence against the dark arts – and was no longer teaching the boy.

Silas finally dipped his gaze and answered with anger coating his calm words. "Perfectly!"

"You will report to me every night this week from 8pm until 10:30pm. You will also report to Mr Filch at 9am on Saturday morning, and you will work for him until 5pm, only being excused for one hour during lunch time. On top of that, you will report to me on Sunday at 9am. I will give you a detention slip when you return here tonight at 8pm. You are dismissed!" Draco was almost hissing at the boy, but he held calm and Harry had to commend him on his restraint – He himself, had yelled at the Silas a few times in the past because the boy had a way to make even his blood boil.

Silas's eyes landed on him before he ambled out of the classroom, impertinently leaving the door open for Draco to close behind him. Draco swished his wand, sighing in frustration, then turned to Harry.

"Why do I feel like there is history between the two of you?" Draco suddenly asked. Harry was impressed with his observational skills.

"Probably because there is." Harry sighed. When Draco sat on the edge on of his desk – looking down at him, he stood up. "I refused to accept him for N.E.W.T level defence against the dark arts. I knew he had the potential, but I had to give him an 'acceptable' in his O.W.L.s. On top of that. I always had to remove him from class – every lesson he managed to send another student to the hospital wing, and his essays where always opinionated instead of based on facts. Not to mention, that some of them, were borderline dark in nature."

"How so?" Draco asked with a slight frown. Harry sighed, thinking of which example to use – there were so many.

"I asked the students once – last year in fact, to revise the three unforgivable curses and explain the signs, how to counter them, and what to do if you suspected someone to be Imperiused. Mr Avery's essay stated that the ministry was filled with fools to have banned them, believing that the killing curse should be used to remove criminals that deserved it, permanently. He went on to express his opinion that if you allowed yourself to be Imperiused then you deserved to be used as the 'weak-minded idiot that you obviously were'. His opinion of the cruciatus cruse, was that it was useful." Harry paused to rub his face before continuing, sighing before taking a deep breath.

"His essay on that, was rather short, so I graded it as poor for the lack of facts … but during that lesson, when I handed their work back to them, Mr Avery created a scene over his grade. I won't go into the details, but when another student showed their pride at receiving an outstanding mark, he mumbled that the killing curse would 'help a lot with natural selection too'. I gave him detention, deducted house points, but even though I knew exactly what he was referring to, I had no solid proof to take to McGonagall. It was also later rumoured that he had been practising the Imperius curse on first year Hufflepuffs during that week, but without any evidence, nothing was ever done about it obviously."

"I knew he was a difficult student, his file was shockingly heavy, but I must admit I didn't really read it all. I wondered if it was exaggerated due to his placement in Slytherin, and that his father's been in Azkaban since the battle of Hogwarts. I decided to judge his character based on my own observations. It doesn't look good for him I must say: always in detention, constantly losing house points, fighting with other students including those in his own house, and I'm always receiving complaints from teachers and students alike."

"I almost forgot you were head of Slytherin now." Harry's smile was brief before he shook his head. "McGonagall agreed with me that Silas wouldn't be continuing with my classes, but Avery's mother was particularly verbal and threatening. She threatened to report me to the ministry for unfair treatment of her son because his father was a death eater, accusing me of being prejudice and vindictive. Ever since then, Silas sneers at me when we cross paths. I fear the boy will grow up to be more vindictive than his mother claimed me to be. Of course, Silas is nothing but an angel in his mother's eyes, and the boy plays the part well in her presence."

"Of course." Draco agreed, shaking his head in what Harry assumed was disappointed and shock.

"Well, not much can be done about it, the boy turns seventeen sometime in January." Harry shook his head and sighed, deciding to change the subject. "I came to see if you could brew a few potions I'll need for my lessons in a few weeks."

"Still rubbish at Potions Potter … Harry."

"I might have been better at it if a certain student hadn't found amusement in sabotaging my work…" Harry smirked when Draco mocked offence at the insinuation. "…Or if my teacher at the time wasn't an arse."

"I thought you had a new found respect for our lost Potions professor." Draco frowned slightly.

"Oh, I do. Doesn't mean he wasn't an arse hole."

Draco chuckled and shook his head. Harry found himself mildly jealous - Draco even chuckled elegantly, it was soft, breathless and warming, where as his own was deep and rough.

"What do you need?" Draco asked, his coin-grey eyes still alight with humour and warmth. Harry thought the look suited Draco, made him look attractive and friendly.

Harry took the list from his pocket and went over them with Draco. He needed the antidote for pixies, blood replenishing potion and bite solution for vampire bats, and several vials of the beautification potion for the red caps he was introducing to the first years. Most of the potions he needed were emergency precautionary measures, but the beautification potion was an effective method to repel red caps.

"We missed lunch." Draco stated, after he assured Harry that he would see to it that the potions were ready for him in time. "I have no lesson to teach this afternoon. I assume you don't either, or you wouldn't still be here. Do you wish to join me for a bite in the kitchen?"

Harry looked up at Draco and couldn't help but wonder what his angle was. Yes, they had a great evening last week - when they had both had a bit too much to drink, but Harry still wasn't sure that Draco enjoyed his company. This would be the first time that Draco has asked for his company - and not Harry making the invitation, it was rather surprising really. A pleasant surprise actually – Harry decided, seeing as he had started to really enjoy Draco's company, and he was learning to read the complex man.

Draco was looking at him, waiting for his answer, and Harry caught the way his eyes flicked down nervously… Was Draco nervous? Harry then saw the blond swallow as he made eye contact with him – uncertain maybe? Harry smiled at him, making his decision.

"Sure, why not." Harry's smile grew slightly when he saw Draco's shoulders relax. Draco was relieved that he had accepted his invite, and it made Harry wonder why. What had changed?

Harry returned to his chambers after a rather long lunch in the kitchen. They must have gotten there at about 2:30pm and it was now nearly 4:00pm. They had spoken more about Mr Silas Avery, moved on to the topic of teaching and certain other students, and then Draco had elaborated on how he came to own a book store in France with his mother. Apparently, they already owned the store, but it had been a shop that dealt with artefacts of a darker nature. The man that ran the store had disappeared, and with living arrangements upstairs above the shop a comfortable two bed apartment, they had decided to gut the shop and move in. After realising that book shops were lacking in the area, they had started a reading corner as they sold of what artifacts remained that were not cursed or dangerous. Eventually they used the money from the sales to stock up on books, and soon enough it became a popular book store serving tea or coffee.

Draco had returned to England because McGonagall had written to him and asked that he teach potions – that she was in urgent need of a potion's professor. What had shocked Harry the most, was that McGonagall had kept in touch with Draco after the war – initially the first letter was regarding his return to Hogwarts for a re-do of seventh year, but he had declined. McGonagall had been rather persistent, but Draco even more so. Their correspondence just never stopped after that. Draco had mentioned a few times, in his letters to the headmistress, that he was studying under a French Potions master's tutelage, and had told her a few years ago that he had finally acquired his own master in potion - and had become a potions master now himself. Draco had agreed to take the job as potions professor because the headmistress had been kind to him, and he'd wanted to used his new skills for something.

Harry sat in the armchair he'd conjured the other day - having deciding to keep the furniture in his Hogwarts chambers, and sipped at the coffee Kreacher had just left for him. He realised he was proud of Draco for making a real go at his life. The obnoxiously arrogant boy Draco had once been, was now a grown man that deserved respect for turning his life around. Yes, Draco was different now … or perhaps, he was truly just being Draco Malfoy for once. Now that there was no one to order Draco into servitude of a dark lord, no one to force him into doing things that he didn't wish to be apart of, he could be himself. Harry liked the Draco Malfoy he was getting to know now, and he wondered – not for the first time – what Draco would have been like if he – himself, had been placed in Slytherin house and had accepted the boy's friendship.

Harry sighed and suddenly thought of Tau. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that he found Draco attractive, or that he warmed when around the man when Draco was in a good mood, but he had a huge crush on the illusion he'd created of Tau. He was scared that he might start developing a stronger attraction for Draco, and then he would have to choose between the two of them. Right now, he was sure that he didn't like Draco in that way, but … there was just something about him that Harry could see the possibility.

Harry shook his head and decided to write to Tau again - he hadn't checked to see if the man had responded to him yet. The though of Tau made him smile like a child in candy store – ridiculous! At least no one was around to see, and no one would know that the butterflies in his stomach swooped when he saw Tau's reply. He was playing with fire, but the flames were deliciously addictive, and totally worth the risk of getting burnt.

Message from Tau:

Mon chéri,

The winter is a secretly designed assassin from mother nature, and snow is wet, cold and murderous!
Why would anyone like winter?

Ah, Mon chéri particulier, I prefer the spring. The end of winter, and the season of beginnings and new life. I am sorry that you have ill memories of the past, maybe one day you will have new memories to replace the bad, and a home filled with the happiness and love you desire.

Time waits for no one Padfoot, and it certainly doesn't erase memories. In fact, 'time' isn't even real – it is a noun, a measurement constructed by humans to measure and explain moments that we perceive as the past the present or the future. The only moment that is important is the here and now; what we perceive as the past is gone, and tomorrow will never arrive. Certain stimuli call forth memories, whether that be a familiar scent, a sting of words that reach our ears, a particular date in the calendar year, or something we see that reminds us. It isn't time reminding us of the past, but our minds.

Everything we do, everything we are, and everything we see, is the result of the complexities of our mind.

Tau x

Message end-

Tau certainly knew how to make Harry think about things he wouldn't have even considered before. Time felt very really to him: Eleven years of suffering with his aunt and uncle - not including the five awful summer holidays there, fourteen years since he lost his godfather, nearly an entire year living from place to place in a tent – with Hermione and Ron twelve-thirteen years ago, and twelve years since the battle of Hogwarts.

However, what Tau said also seemed to make sense – that it wasn't time that reminded him of the past, it was in fact memories trigged by something or another. The summer heat - especially near gardens, always reminded him of the long hours he'd spent weeding his Aunt's garden, the fact he'd had to return to them at all, and the remaindered that it was the summer holiday after his fifth year that he mourned for his Godfathers murder alone. Halloween in August, always reminded him of the day his parents died and he became an orphan. May day always reminded him of the battle of Hogwarts, and the day he lost many people to the war. Even though it was a particular time of year that reminded him of these things usually, it wasn't time itself doing the reminding.

Now he was thinking about time itself. What exactly was time? Who came up with the idea to label it? Was time even real?

He was giving himself a headache; that kind of thinking was far to complex for his mind and he wasn't ashamed to admit it either, but there was the other thought Tau had given him. 'Everything we do, everything we are, and everything we see, is the result of the complexities of our mind.' What in Godric's name was he suppose to say to that? What did he even think of that?

It was nearly 5pm now, he really should go down to dinner in the Great Hall… but he wasn't hungry. He really wanted to take a shower, climb into his pyjamas, and leave the homework marking for tomorrow. With any luck, he might have something more intelligent to respond to Tau with after his shower.

It wasn't the first time Tau had left him stumped for words, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last time either. The things Tau came out with sometimes…

Harry shook his head as he removed his clothes. He walked into his bathroom and turned on the shower. The water heated fast, and after checking he had a towel to use once he was done, he climbed in and let the water cascade down his body.

…They might be crazy things, but Harry loved the way Tau's mind worked. His philosophical and theoretical way of thinking was intriguing and intelligent. He respected that about the man, and found it an attractive trait…

Smiling as he washed his hair, he imagined what Tau was like to look at. Rinsing his black locks, he wondered what Tau's hair felt like. What would it feel like to be touched by the man, and were his hands soft like he'd imagined? And Kissing?

His body burned with needs, and suddenly… he remembered that night with Draco - how they'd both consumed one too many glasses of fire whiskey, and how he'd briefly had lascivious thoughts of Draco's attractive body and what he could do with it.

…Oh yes, he was definitely playing with fire.