CHAPTER FIFTEEN


A/N: Onwards... Updates may be slower now guys, I hit a creative rut. So sorry. Reviews certainly inspire me and I will do my best!


Harry laughed, his messy black hair falling into his eyes as he ducked his head in amusement.

The sunlight filtered in through the edges of the curtains in Draco's bedroom. The Manor was bright and lively again, bird song reaching in from an open window.

Harry looked positively vibrant. No signs of a nearing full moon as he leaned against the headboard of Draco's bed next to him. The black-haired wizard smiled, then scooted closer. Draco beamed and inclined his head, grey eyes flicking closed.

He could feel Harry's warm breath ghosting over his lips-

A heavy, solid pillow smacked Draco in the side of the head, startling him into an upright position as he was dragged quite forcibly from his dream.

Blaise offered him a wiggle of his fingers in a waving gesture from across the room as a clear admission to being the one who had thrown the pillow. "Rise and shine," he said cheerfully as he finished blotting a period on to the end of a piece of parchment, rolling it up and tying it neatly as he handed the letter to his family's barn owl.

Draco blinked sleepily as he fell back against his pillow, taking a deep breath in and trying to remember what his dream had been about. He remembered the feeling of warmth, contentment, happiness, but he couldn't quite recall what had happened.

"Draco get up," Blaise said, throwing another pillow from one of the empty beds in the dorm.

Draco rolled to dodge it.

"He needs his beauty sleep, Zabini," Theodorre Nott spoke up from across the room where he was messing with his hair in a mirror. "Really, have you seen the bloke's face?"

Draco sat upright, tired grey eyes flashing with irritation, his blond hair sticking up in every direction. "I'm sorry, Nott, we were talking about me. Not you," he snapped tiredly.

Nott rolled his eyes. "I have a date at Hogsmeade next weekend. You for some reason can't even get Pansy Parkinson to go out with you. Astounding, really, with the way she hangs herself all over you."

Blaise snorted and ducked his head. Draco sent him a warning glare.

"I could date anyone I wanted to," Draco replied shortly as he hopped out of bed, heaving a tired sigh and giving up on remembering his dream. "But unlike you, I have a family name that I'd prefer not to smear."

Nott sent the blond a hostile glare in response and Blaise laughed.

"Girls, girls, calm down," Zabini drawled. "You're both very pretty."

Draco snorted in disagreement and trailed over toward the bathroom with clothes in tow, slamming the door behind.

He glanced into the mirror, scowling and leaning against the marble counter to peer at himself. He straightened his back, lifting his chin and relaxing his shoulders.

He flashed a very white smile.

Yes, anyone I wanted, he thought as a pair of green eyes flashed through his mind unbidden. Except that one.

He shook off the concern he felt as he remembered the Gryffindor's state last night and walked over to the shower to turn on blasting hot water. He shut the glass surrounding it and watched the steam rise up from the top, exhaling deeply and yanking his shirt off.

He tossed it to the floor, stretching his hands up toward the ceiling and letting out a sigh as the steam from the shower began to fog up the mirrors.


"Hermione," Harry greeted lightly as he slid into a seat across from the girl in her corner of the library, feeling more well-rested than he had in months.

He set down his mug of hot chocolate he had nabbed from the kitchen and smiled at her genially as she looked up from her parchment in surprise.

"Harry!" she exclaimed quietly with a smile. She quickly morphed her expression to a scolding frown, pulling out her wand almost absentmindedly to cast muffling charms around them. "I nearly told Dumbledore we couldn't find you last night - where were you? Did you remember your potion? Ron is sorry, he wants you to know," she rambled.

Harry smiled at her lightly. "I just needed to get out, and yes I remembered my potion," he replied evasively, intently ignoring the mention of Ron. "I also picked up this book earlier," he said, pulling out a copy of Hairy Snout, Human Heart.

Hermione's eyes widened and a sad smile turned up the corners of her lips. "I've been looking for a copy for you, but the sixth years have them all taken out for their essays," she said in a hushed voice. "How did you find it?"

Harry shrugged dismissively. "A friend," he replied nonchalantly. "I was wondering, though, about his mentionings of err, animagi, and his experiences with them," Harry said slowly.

Hermione nodded slowly, furrowing her eyebrows. "You mean how they helped him with his transformations? Yes, that was a particularly pleasant part of the book."

Harry shook his head. "He said something along the lines of the lycanthropy strengthening err, particular, emotional feelings, but not creating them in the way people assume?" he hedged slowly.

She nodded. "Strengthening ties of friendship that are already present, yes. Wolves are social creatures Harry, they rely on others for survival. So of course they value the company of people who make them feel safe."

Harry nodded. "Do you think he was saying the... Err, wolf, had, different feelings than him? Separate emotions?" he asked slowly.

Hermione frowned, shooting him a scrutinizing look. He drummed his fingers against the table, blowing one of his bangs out of his eyes and blinking at her innocently.

"No, it didn't have human-like emotions, the way he described it. Though he was much closer to his, um, other side than most werewolves. From what I understood, it only strengthened that which was already present. Why? Has something happened, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, unable to repress a groan as he sank against the table and buried his face in his arms. "No, nothing," he muttered in response. He sulkily raised his head and reached for his cup, taking a depressed sip of hot chocolate.

Hermione frowned at him seriously. "Where did you go last night?"

Harry shrugged.

"Was it... Was it to see Malfoy?" she asked in a whisper, despite the muffling charms.

Harry gaped at her. "Hermione, you're joking," he said pleadingly, wincing as he realized the answer to her question was yes.

But not for the reasons she thinks, he reminded himself sharply. So I trust him, fine, I guess I do. More than I do most people, apparently. But it's not very well like I trust anyone much to begin with, is it? I obviously don't trust Hermione enough to tell her what's going on.

He felt a pang of guilt at that final thought and sat down his mug again, absentmindedly licking off the remnants of a hot chocolate mustache with a very serious frown.

Hermione shrugged one shoulder. "Well, you have to admit it would make sense," she offered lightly in response, earning a horrified look from the werewolf. She quickly attempted to explain, "I just mean you've always been so interested in what he's up to, and you know what they say, it's a fine line - anyway."

The witch looked thoroughly abashed as she scribbled down some notes on the roll of parchment in front of her, and Harry grimaced.

"I did go to see him," he admitted finally, the guilt from hiding everything else from her too heavy on his shoulders for him to keep going. "But it's not what you think," he added sharply at her look of blank shock and horror.

"I don't understand," she admitted quietly, setting down her quill and letting its spare ink smear her parchment unknowingly.

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and mussing the back of his black hair. "It's - we're friends," he explained, wincing at the term; it felt wrong. "For now. I mean, it, I can't explain it right now but I promise you we're just... Acquaintances," he said.

Hermione frowned slightly, but gave a slow nod as she realized he was waiting for a response. "All right, Harry... I - trust your judgment," she said, then winced, biting her lip.

"You should add anti-detection charms to your muffling and deflecting ones. I found you just by the overwhelming impulse I had to move away from this area," a voice cut into the conversation, startling both Gryffindors into looking over in surprise.

Draco leaned casually over the table, offering Harry a bright, out of character smile and ignoring Hermione altogether. "Harry," he greeted genially. Harry ignored the odd way his name sounded coming off of his lips, and the consequential goosebumps.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry snapped suspiciously, eyes trailing over his figure briefly before snapping back up to his face. Silently, he noted he was missing his usual tie. He wore a grey, button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal toned forearms. His hair was slightly less kempt than usual, falling more naturally without being messy.

Draco sent him a wounded look and Harry felt a stab of guilt. He nodded to the seat next to him unthinkingly and Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste, glancing discreetly to Hermione who was looking between the two in puzzlement.

Harry sent Malfoy a heated glare in response, his guilt dissipating. Draco sighed. "Could I talk to you in private?" he asked slowly, as if Harry were stupid.

"No," Harry said shortly.

Hermione discreetly slid the book that Harry and her had been discussing out of view and into her bag, and got to her feet. "It's all right Harry, we can catch up in the common room," she said politely. She shot Draco a nasty look.

He offered her a sneer.

"Hermione, wait," Harry protested as she gathered up her things and headed out of the library, fixing the strap of her bag over her shoulder as she went.

"What do you want?" Harry reiterated, shifting his gaze over to the blond Slytherin.

Draco smiled lightly, sliding into the seat next to him. "I thought I'd ask how you were doing," he said casually.

"None of your business how I'm doing," Harry replied stiffly. He reached for his hot chocolate, taking a grumpy sip.

Draco heaved an all-suffering sigh. "Well, I also came with information," he said, refusing to apologize. He had been as polite to Granger as he could. If Potter wanted him to apologize for that, he could keep dreaming.

Harry shrugged, some of his anger fading slowly. "About what?" he asked lightly, watching the way Draco's pupils dilated as he licked the excess chocolate off of his lips. He felt a wave of discomfort, and dripped a bit of the drink in his mouth on to his chin, choking as he tried to catch it.

Draco arched an eyebrow in concern as Harry set down the mug, gasping for breath and smothering a coughing fit. He cleared his throat, straightening up slightly and swallowing self-consciously. Then he wheezed, gripping the table as the urge to cough overwhelmed him.

Draco watched him in amusement as he spluttered for air, and his hand drifted to his Hawthorn wand in a subtle sign of concern.

"I was to tell you that the transformation will take place at the Headquarters, and that you would know what that meant," Draco said as Harry finished his coughing fit.

Harry blinked in surprise. "The Headquarters?" he asked sharply, forgetting his embarrassment over choking. "Are you kid-I mean are you sure?"

"This is all some big joke, you've caught me," Draco replied coldly, clearly irritated with the lack of information he'd been given. "Yes, I'm sure. Tell me what this place is."

Harry glared. "I can't," he said stiffly.

"Why?" Malfoy's eyes flared with irritation, as if Harry was being intentionally difficult.

"Fidellius Charm," he snapped in response.

Draco blinked, sitting back in his chair with a short nod.

Harry tapped his fingers against the desk as he noted that Draco looked much better without the tie. His fingers itched as he resisted the impulse to reach forward and undo another one of his shirt's buttons; one really wasn't enough.

Draco seemed surprised as he processed the information.

"You're actually going to help, then?" Harry asked unthinkingly, forcing himself to focus on his eyes.

"You thought I wouldn't?" he countered. "How much of the discussion between Dumbledore and I did you miss last week? I know he asked you to wait outside - but you're telling me you didn't eavesdrop?"

Harry shrugged. "No, it seemed private," he admitted, leaning back in his seat as he drew in the wizard's pleasant scent. It was like a blanket of comfort over his mind. It made everything feel crisp, bright, clear.

Draco flexed his jaw and huffed slightly, sitting back as well and looking thoroughly irritated.

There was a beat of silence. Harry slurped the last drinking chocolate from his cup somewhat noisily.

"It was done under the agreement that should the situation with my family go awry, he would protect my mother," Draco explained finally in a cold, detached tone, his voice dropping below normal volume. "I help him with you, he helps my family. This is very important to me, Potter."

Harry shoved aside the surprise he felt at the revelation that Malfoy's concern for the situation had absolutely nothing to do with himself. Why do I expect him to care what happens to me?

"You leave in four days' time," Malfoy finished, dragging him from his thoughts.

"Why so early?" Harry asked, frowning in confusion. "The full moon's not for another six."

"Dumbledore's being precautious until he understands the situation," Draco replied. "At least, that would be my guess. It could just be that leaving at slightly different times in the lunar cycle helps avoid suspicion. I'll meet you there the day of the full moon."

Harry blinked thoughtfully, nodding and blowing out a slow breath. "I never got to say thank you," he said as he steered his gaze past the blond. "For last night."

"Don't," the Slytherin offered casually. Harry nodded in response, rocking his weight on to the back legs of his chair and teetering precariously.

Draco scooted his chair closer at the action seemingly unconsciously, eyes pinching at the corners in concern.

Harry let his seat fall back on to all four legs at the revelation that he was in a privacy-enchanted area, alone with Draco - who looked damnably more attractive than usual for some reason. Heat pooled in his stomach and he felt his pulse speed, noting that the other wizard had moved closer.

Draco seemed to start at the sound of the feet of the chair hitting the ground. He reached up unconsciously for his tie that wasn't there, before letting his hand fall down awkwardly by his side.

Harry swallowed hard, his mouth having gone incredibly dry. He drew in a few slow breaths, trying to steady himself but only managing to become more light-headed. He scooted forward unconsciously, knee bumping against the blond's as he did. Draco's eyes darkened and Harry could hear his pulse picking up.

"Here," Draco said suddenly, startling the werewolf. The blond moved away, his heart still thumping noisily in the air.

Silently, Harry cursed his stupidly acute senses.

The grey-eyed wizard reached into his pocket, pulling out Harry's iconic glasses, and slid them across the table before getting to his feet.

Harry stared down at them for a blank minute before reluctantly picking the spectacles up, checking the lens for smears and putting them on.

He narrowed his eyes as his vision reluctantly adjusted to the glass in its way, his mind shifting to block it out. "Thanks," he replied, tone confused as he got to his own feet instinctively just as the blond made to leave.

Harry watched him walk away from the table for longer than necessary, his stomach feeling oddly hollow as the door shut mutely behind him.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, falling back into his seat and scrubbing his face with both hands. What was that?


Harry sighed as he pushed the cauldron cake around on his plate from where he sat in the kitchens. He took a swig of the chocolate liqueur to his right - illegally attained by some pouting in the general direction of Dobby - and huffed, licking his lips.

"I like your socks, Dobby," Harry said, eyebrows drawn together as he pinched off a bit of the cauldron cake, popping the crumb into his mouth.

Dobby looked over from where he stood, the rainbow socks on his ears flapping as he did so. His face split into a wide smile. "Thank you, Harry Potter sir! Dobby is finding these in the Gryffindor common rooms!" he informed the boy cheerfully. "They is left out and made to looks like garbage but Dobby is finding they are not garbage!"

Harry laughed miserably at Hermione's attempts to forcibly free the house elves at Hogwarts and took another drink of alcohol, the fog over his mind gradually increasing.

"Is something the matter for Mister Harry Potter?" Dobby asked worriedly. "More chocolate liqueur?" he offered, snapping his fingers to summon another bottle of the alcoholic beverage.

Harry accepted the bottle, shrugging both shoulders. "Just tired, Dobby," he replied, noting the elf's improved sentence structure since working at Hogwarts. He sighed deeply, taking a few gulps of the liquid and shuddering as it burned his throat on the way down.

"Got any Firewhiskey?" he asked after a beat of silence, the magical alcohol quickly creating a pleasant buzz in his ears.

Dobby nodded. "Dobby will be fetching for Mr. Potter!" the elf cried, disappearing with a crack.

Harry swished took another sip of the alcohol he already had, his fingers numb from the cold of the bottle.


"I think you were right," Draco said as he watched a bird get smacked to the ground by the Whomping Willow.

He shifted his bag on his shoulder, taking a deep breath of the fresh autumn air. Blaise sent him a look of shock at his sentence, which he pointedly ignored as he trailed over to one of the benches in the studying gardens.

"I'm glad we've come to terms. What, in particular, was I right about?" Zabini asked casually as he settled on to a stone bench, stretching his dress shoe-clad feet on to the low table in front of himself, nudging a lone leaf off with his ankle.

"Potter's got a thing for me," Draco replied lightly, settling on to the bench across from him and ignoring the flutter of excitement saying it out loud sent through him. He kept his expression entirely indifferent as Blaise looked up, grinning cheekily.

"Yeah?" he asked cheerfully. "So you two-?"

"-No," Draco said, causing the smile on the wizard's face to falter - and his own irrational happiness to wilt. "It's still completely illogical."

Blaise shrugged. "There's surrogates, and things, if you're talking about an heir-" he dropped off at the blond's look of horror, pressing his lips together to repress a smile.

"I say I might have an interest in him and you begin plotting how we'll have children together?" Draco asked, unable to keep his pitch from rising in stress. Blaise laughed at his expression, pulling his feet off of the table.

"I just meant I don't see what you're so against, if he fancies you and you him - well, then," Blaise said with a half-shrug.

"It's not that simple. We're in a war, Blaise," Draco snapped angrily. "And in case you hadn't noticed, The-Chosen-One Potter is kind of helplessly in the middle of it; on the wrong side. We can't all be pacifists."

Zabini heaved a sigh, shrugging. "I don't think Voldemort's too interested in who he's snogging. It's probably more the fact he's destined to kill him that's caught his attention," he said in a slow, sarcastic tone, picking up a leaf and twirling it about in his fingertips.

Draco watched the green, red and orange leaf for a moment, before shaking his head. "It wouldn't matter, if it weren't me. He'd kill my whole family. We're too involved."

"If he even cares to find out," Blaise said casually. "I mean, you honestly think that's top of his agenda? Find out who Potter's dating? I'm sure if the information arose he wouldn't shoot it down, but he isn't trying to manipulate Potter or blackmail him. He's trying to murder him."

Draco winced at the casual nature of Blaise's statement, and shook his head. "It's too much," he muttered.

"You could keep it quiet. You're already in deep for taking up that deal with Dumbledore, whatever it was," Zabini muttered as a group of giggly fourth year girls swept past, oggling them. Blaise sent the witches a charming smile, lifting a hand to wiggle his fingers in greeting. "That'll be the death of you if he finds out, surely?"

The girls began tripping over each other, whispering and blushing.

Draco sighed, leaning back and running a hand through his lightly tousled blond hair. "I know," he said quietly, grey eyes flooded with stress. That was why he knew he couldn't take anymore chances. He could only conceal so many things at once.

"I think you should go for what you want. Who knows how long any of us will live in this war anyway," Blaise said casually, shifting his gaze from the witches back to his friend.

Draco made a noncommital noise in response and looked up to the group of girls now settled by the lake. He sent one in particular who couldn't keep her eyes away a mean look. She was a decidedly plain brunette, with brown eyes and straight, long hair.

She flushed, looking to the grass and picking at it as if to pretend she hadn't been shamelessly oggling, and Draco shifted his gaze back to his friend. Blaise was looking at him in obvious amusement, eyebrows raised.

"What?" Draco snapped.

Zabini shrugged as the wind whistled noisily, ducking his head to hide his grin. "Potions?" he suggested, gesturing to Draco's bag that was discarded on the table.

Draco's eyes lit. "Yes, we're dissecting the preparation of Wolfsbane. I want to find out what exactly it does to the magical bonds of a werewolf's mind."

Blaise frowned, shrugging his consent as the blond dragged out a book and some parchment.