I've decided that since I'm posting a lot of chapters in a short time, the review answers will come in chapter ten, since it'll only be a few days til I post that. Thanks for rreading and reviewing, and keep an eye out for updates!
Disclaimer: Eh, dat's not mine.
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"Hello Mr. Malfoy. Have a nice holiday?"
Draco hurried to his feet, straightening out his robes and brushing the dirt from the floor off him. Even after being dumped onto the floor, he was able to look immaculate as always.
"I was, Professor Dumbledore."
Harry had pushed himself to his feet and was now standing behind Draco, his face lit up with a smile.
"And I hope the same has gone for you, Mr. Potter?"
"Not quite, for more than one reason. But I'm guessing you know about all that already?"
"Of course. Mrs. Figg has informed me about the majority of incidents, but you still need to fill in a few gaps. But let's leave that for later. Come, we have other matters that are more pressing as of the moment."
"Who's Mrs. Figg?" Draco asked as they followed Dumbledore out of the room and down an old, ornate hallway filled with ancient paintings of witches and wizards in medieval dress robes. Harry just shook his head and mouthed 'Tell you later.'
They followed twisting and turning corridors, all lined with old, expensive looking portraits and thick carpet in a red so dark it almost looked like blood. Both the boys' eyes were wide with admiration: Harry's because he had never seen so many elegant and auld artifacts, and Draco's because he had never seen so many rich things put together to be comfortable. The Malfoy Manor was full of old paintings and objects, but they were cold and menacing, and could never have brought warmth and contentment as this mansion did.
Finally, they arrived in a large circular room, also lined with paintings. They were of all different types of worlds and universes, ranging from aliens to cavemen to creatures Harry had no name for. He noticed that the frames were glowing with a pure white light, pulsing steadily. Some were stronger than others, causing Harry to squint as he looked. Others we so dull they looked like normal frames.
"The Portholes," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Each one leads to a different world, with a Porthole on the other side that leads to this room. Destroy the painting, or Porthole, and you can never return to the world it led to. The ones that glow brightly are more friendly than the ones that are dim. Why, hello Minerva." Professor McGonagall had just entered the room by a door directly across from the one Harry and Draco had entered through.
Dumbledore turned and clasped her hand, his bright eyes twinkling. "One more and we should be set."
As he spoke, Professor Snape Apparated right next to them, making Harry jump. Snape suppressed a nasty grin, but his dark eyes bore into Harry with spiteful amusement. He greeted Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall cordially, and Dumbledore ushered them to five rather overstuffed armchairs in the center of the room, arranged in a circle around a large oak coffee table.
Once they had all taken their seats, Dumbledore cleared his throat and began.
"Harry, don't worry about the Weasleys; we let them know that you and Draco would be meeting with us today, and they have been told to go back to the Burrow. We will take you back there when we are through.
"Yes, it was us that bewitched the threshold to be a Portkey. Lucky for us, Professor Snape put a spell on it so that it would only work when you two stepped on it, otherwise we would have had a few too many visitors this afternoon." Dumbledore paused and smiled at his own joke, then continued.
"Both of you have been watched all summer by members of the Order. Harry, for obvious reasons, and Draco, because we suspected that this summer your father would try to force you into the Dark Lord's service. We knew about Draco's arrival at 4 Privet Drive, and since then we've been looking for a way to protect both of you this school year."
Dumbledore leaned forward, fingers steepled. His blue eyes glanced back and forth from Harry to Draco, scanning their faces. "The rest of this conversation is not to be repeated, not even to Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. Do you both understand?" Harry and Draco nodded gravely, a knot forming in both their stomachs. Draco was sitting on the edge of his seat, as was Harry, and they hung on to Dumbledore's every word.
"As we found out in your fourth year, there are ways to get into the castle besides the normal entrances. With the number of people who pose a threat to you right now, we are taking extra precautions to have you under watch at night. We could not set teachers or guards around your dorms; that would cause too much suspicion. Instead, there will be two Portholes made that enter this room. One will be hung above your bed, Harry, and the other over yours, Draco. The edges will be charmed to look like a normal frame, so no one is suspicious. Each night, you will go through your routine, as if nothing were happening. You will get into bed, close the curtains, and climb through the Porthole. You will both be given rooms here, and there will be someone here at all times of the day or night. In the mornings you will be woken early and will return to your dorms at Hogwarts before any of the other students wake. There will be charms put on both your beds so that anyone who goes near them when you are gone will promptly feel extremely tired and return to their own bed."
Dumbledore stopped again and sat back in his chair. "This is being done for your protection. These Portholes are not to be used without caution. Do not use them to enter each others' dorms or cause mayhem. If anyone besides us," he motioned to himself, Snape, and McGonagall, "ever asks about them, you would be wise to act ignorant and protest that you have never heard of them. Both of you are in more danger than you realize."
"Professor," Harry interjected. "What about Voldemort being able to 'see' through me? Wouldn't that just make this whole plan worthless?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it would, Harry. That is why both you and Draco will be taking Occlumency lessons from Professor Snape as the school year begins. This time, though, you will see your lessons through."
Harry felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. After the last year, the last thing he wanted to do was see Snape outside of class more often than needed. Fortunately, Draco stepped in before Harry could say anything.
"When and where?" he asked. "It can't interfere with Quidditch."
"Quidditch practices will be based on your schedules from now on," said Professor McGonagall, a smile lighting up her face. "You two have been made Quidditch captains."
Harry felt the bottom of his stomach fall out again, this time because of disbelief. He looked at Draco, who was wearing a broad grin, and back to Professor McGonagall.
Quidditch Captain, he thought. Definitely not a bad start to the year.
"The lessons will be Wednesday nights after supper for you, Mr. Potter, and Thursdays at the same time for Mr. Malfoy." Snapes cold drawl punctured Harry's visions of flying around the pitch chasing after the Snitch. "They shouldn't take too long, if you concentrate on the task at hand." Snape threw a vehement glare at Harry before he went on. "And if anyone asks why you are taking extra lessons from me..."
"We answer that we're reviewing Remedial Potions," finished Harry.
"Exactly."
"What!" Draco stood up, disbelief written across his face. "Remedial Potions? I'm not that bad, am I?"
"Mr. Malfoy, you may answer with 'Advanced' instead of 'Remedial'," cut in Snape.
Draco sat down, obviously elated that he was considered intelligent enough for Advanced Potions..
"Now, you two, go along back to the Burrow. And remember, not a word about the Portholes to anyone." Dumbledore rose, smoothing out his robes. "We've made another Portkey that will take you into Ron's bedroom. After you use it, it will no longer be a Portkey." He drew a birthday cake candle out of one pocket and layed it on the table. "On the count of three... one... two... three!"
Harry and Draco each touched opposite ends of the candle at the same time, and both felt the now familiar jerk behind their navels. A moment later, Harry was welcomed with a blinding flash of orange as he crashed onto Ron's bed, where Ron was reading Standard Book of Spells Grade 5, and Draco landed on top of him. After a good amount of colorful language, the boys managed to untangle themselves. Ron put the spell book, which now had a few bent pages, on the desk and sat back own on the bed.
"What happened with you two?" Ron was looking at them curiously. "You never showed up, and then Dumbledore owled us saying that you were fine and not to worry."
"Dumbledore just wanted to tell us we're the new Quidditch captains," said Harry lightly. He grinned when he saw Ron's jaw fall open, slack, and the next thing he knew Ron had enveloped him in an enormous hug.
"Ouch, Ron, your pressing my glasses into my nose," Harry managed, his arms pinned to his sides. Ron released him, still ecstatic.
"That's awesome! You, Quidditch captain! We always knew you'd make it, but out of the blue! Oh, right, congratulations Malfoy." Ron smiled at Draco; nothing could bring him down right now. "That's all they said? You guys were gone for a good time."
"Oh, yes," said Draco, his face clouding over. "We have to take Occlumency lessons with Snape. Eurgh."
"I'm going to go bang my head against a wall now. Don't mind me." Harry turned towards the wall but Draco reached out a hand and stopped him.
"You can't afford to lose anymore brain cells as of the moment." Eyes filled with merriment, Draco pulled Harry back to the middle of the room. "Besides, large bumps in the middle of your forehead are not going to do much for your appearance, which is already faltering."
"Thanks for the encouragement." Harry rolled his eyes with a lack of seriousness.
"More Occlumency lessons?" interjected Ron. "Why do both of you have to take them? Oh right, the whole evil father thing. Sorry." Ron ducked his head, focusing intently on the door. "Anyways, Mum wanted you two to get something to eat when you got back. Hungry?"
"Famished," replied Harry.
"Very," supplemented Draco.
Ron led the way down the stairs, walking much slower than Harry would have liked him to.
"Nerve impulses not reaching your body, Weasley? A snail could have reached the bottom by now." Draco made to push past Ron, but Ron threw out an arm and held him back, giving him a knowing look. Draco merely raised an eyebrow and fell back with Harry, who was becoming more confused by the moment.
Their confusion was alleviated as they stepped into the kitchen and were greeted by a loud chorus of "Happy Birthday." Harry's jaw went slack for the third time that day, July 31st, his sixteenth birthday, which he had forgotten all about.
"Happy birthday Harry!" cried George, slapping Harry on the back.
"Surprised you, didn't we?" said Fred, smiling devilishly and pointing to a large pile of gifts on the table. "Those would be for you."
Harry's eyes went as wide as plates as he looked around the Weasley's small kitchen. Red and gold and silver decorations were hanging from the ceiling, reflecting the light thrown on them by the candles Mrs. Weasley had enchanted to float right above their heads. On the table next to the gifts (which were wrapped in such bright colors they almost hurt the eyes) was a large cake with orange frosting, aglow with sixteen large, dripping candles. Written on top was "Happy Birthday Harry" in scrolling letters, and little figures on broomsticks raced across, narrowly avoiding each other as they pulled miniature Wronski Feints. Looking closer, Harry realized that the "I" in "Birthday" wasn't dotted with frosting, but was a minuscule snitch that would flit around for a few seconds before returning to its place, then take off again. One of the little players was continually going after it, but only caught it once in awhile.
"Do you like it?" Hermione had squeezed her way through the crowd and was standing on Harry's right. "We got it from a magical confectionary down in Diagon Alley."
"Chudley Cannons' colors, too," said Ron on Harry's right as he pointed out that the little figures actually resembled the real players. "That one's the seeker."
"It's amazing," approved Harry, breathless. "It's... wow."
"Great use of vocabulary." Draco came up behind Harry and peered over his shoulder. "Although, that cake would make anybody speechless. Especially if it was their first birthday party."
"Your first birthday party, dear?" Mrs. Weasley looked shocked. "You never had one at the Dursleys?"
"Mum, don't be dense," Ginny sighed. "They're Muggles, remember?"
"Alright, alright, time for Harry to make a wish and blow the candles out before we eat wax instead of cake." Mr. Weasley dimmed the overhead candles with a wave of his wand, and everyone looked expectantly at Harry, the sixteen candles reflected two fold in the lenses of his old-fashioned glasses.
Harry glanced from person to person. Fred and George were shifting impatiently, obviously starving for cake. Ginny kept stealing quick glances at Draco, while next to her Hermione tucked a stray strand of hair behind her right ear. Ron was watching the Quidditch players race across the cake, and shook his head slightly as his eyes crossed. Mr. Weasley stood behind Mrs. Weasley, his hands on her shoulders as she leaned back into him.
Then there was Draco, who had moved to stand in-between Ron and the twins. His hair reflected the red, gold, and silver hues thrown from the garlands, and his pale eyes had lightened to the gray of the sky after a storm. He looked back at Harry, a genuine smile on his face. Harry's heart skipped a few beats, then a few more, before he forced himself to turn his gaze away.
Harry stood still, trying to absorb he scene before him, the pure happiness and warmth, to take it all in before the moment could slip away. Taking a deep breath, he wished that this moment would never leave him, and blew out the candles in one breath.
The sudden darkness jolted everyone back to life, and a din arose as people clamored for cake. After receiving his piece, Harry went outside on the porch and sat in the same rocking chair he had sat in that morning, staring at the same horizon, but seeing something completely different. A bright full moon shone out over the landscape, illuminating trees and bathing the yard in silver. Harry felt that he was in a dream world, the scene was so surreal.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Draco leaned against the house next to Harry's chair, his cake in hand. "Nighttime is always classified as the time of evil and horror, when the light fades and darkness takes over. The beauty of it is overlooked, the appeal of being able to hide in the shadows, the mystery of never knowing what's before you, the enigmatic atmosphere that transcends time and makes it stretch into nothing." He looked at Harry, who was staring at him. "What, do I have frosting on my nose?"
"No, that was just really profound. And random." Harry had a satisfied but startled look on his face. "Where did that come from?"
Draco shrugged. "Just my opinion. What're you thinking right now?"
Harry's mouth was open with a coy comment on the tip of his tongue, but just then Ron and Hermione came outside and sat in the chairs around Harry.
"Pumpkin frosting," Ron garbled through a mouthful of cake. Hermione made a face and looked like she was going to criticize Ron's manners, but was to busy eating her own cake.
"So what did Dumbledore want?" Hermione asked, wiping her mouth daintily.
"Draco and I have been made Quidditch captains," Harry said as Hermione squealed happily. "And we have to take Occlumency lessons, both of us."
"That's not a bad idea, especially with the recent turn of events." All three boys gaped at her, but she pretended not to notice. "Plus, if you can empty your mind to sleep, maybe you can empty your mind of other things and get your homework done faster."
"She has a one track mind, doesn't she?" asked Draco, pointing his fork in Hermione's direction.
"You're not one to talk. You're second in the class, you know," Hermione retorted.
"What?!" Ron exclaimed, almost knocking his cake off his lap. "I am not hearing this..."
"Then you must have slugs in your ears, Weasley."
"Don't you dare bring up slugs-"
"Oh right... so do you like escargots?"
"Malfoy, I am going to hurt you."
"Really?"
"WILL YOU TWO STOP!" Ron and Draco looked at Harry and Hermione, who had said this in unison.
"You're like bickering two year olds." Hermione had her hands on her hips. "Honestly, I'd think you two could be slightly more mature than this by now."
"Sorry you overestimated us." Draco sent a smirk in her direction before catching the glare of annoyance from Harry. "Oh, bloody. Fine, I'll stop. But yes, Weasley, I am second in the class. That does not mean I don't have a life."
"Did we hear shouting?" Fred and George came out and dragged a couple of mismatched stools over. "Are you all trying to give Harry gray hairs before he turns seventeen?"
"No, but you'll start giving mum gray hairs if you don't stop using Percy as a guinea pig for your Wizard Wheezes." To Hermione's satisfaction, Ron chewed his next bite and swallowed it before talking. "You know she's touchy enough when it comes to him these days."
"How are things with Percy?" Harry inquired. "Any better than the end of last year?"
"A bit. He's still a complete sod, but at least he apologized and has started sending owls to mum again." Fred Accioed six Butterbeers and passed them out. Harry thought he heard a weak "Don't get drunk" from inside, but couldn't be sure.
"He's still working for the Ministry, but he says that rumors are flying about Fudge resigning. Percy's at his wits' end about it; he's afraid that if there's a new Minister, he'll get booted to some other department because he supported Fudge and called Dumbledore a fool. Serves him right." George looked as if he wanted to go on, but took a swig of Butterbeer and promptly began choking on it. "If Fudge does get replaced," he said after he'd recovered, "I hope it's Dumbledore. We'd have less trouble from You- Know-Who if Dumbledore was in charge of things."
"We're going to need more than Dumbledore to keep Voldemort suppressed, with the rise of the Dementors, Death Eaters, and all of his other supporters." Everyone swivelled around to face Draco, who had been so quiet he had been forgotten about.
"What other supporters?" Ron asked.
"The giants, the werewolves, the vampires, all the other Dark creatures. Has anyone other than me- and Hermione- ever read Hogwarts, A History?"
"You've read Hogwarts, A History?" It was Ron's jaw's turn to go slack. "I thought only brainiacs like Hermione did that."
"Second in the class, Weasley."
"Right. And what does the history of an old stone castle have to do with Dark creatures and You-Know-Who?"
"Hogwarts was built in Europe for a reason, Ron." Hermione took over with a nod from Draco. "Since the beginning of the Christian era, many people have persecuted those with the gift of magic. Around 1073, a Seer made a prediction that during what we now call the Dark Ages, there would be a mass genocide of witches and wizards."
"But flame freezing spells-"
"It wasn't burning." Draco took a step forward. "And it wasn't genocide in the sense of the word today. The Founders of Hogwarts didn't just build the school to educate children. They built it as a refuge for the magical population of Europe, which was in danger of their own kind.
"Salazar Slytherin made sure before he died that he would have ways of communicating with those who had his blood running in their veins. In exchange for the opportunity to talk to the living, he sold his soul to demons, his consequence being to eternally live in Purgatory with no way of escaping to go on to the Land of the Dead."
"Got jipped if you ask me," said George.
"During the Dark Ages, Salazar was able to persuade one of his heirs to establish a constant connection with him. The heir, whose name has been erased from history- and is not my relative because I can trace my family tree farther back than this time, Weasley, so don't give me that look- tricked the wizarding world into electing him into power, much as Hitler did to the Germans during the Holocaust."
"Instead of a slow deception, though, he had Slytherin's evil supporters round up all the Muggle-born's in Europe that weren't being hidden in Hogwarts one night and bring them to England, where they sorted them into hundreds of groups. People with certain qualities were grouped together, of mixed gender, and for a reason." Hermione paused, and took a deep breath before going on. "The Heir permanently transformed them all into different Dark races: vampires, veela, werewolves, Dementors, giants, so on and so forth. The next part of the plan was to attack Hogwarts, where the rest of the Muggle-borns were being harbored. It almost happened, but the night before the attack, the Heir tried to raise Slytherin from the dead. The demons that had made a deal with Slytherin broke his communication, and supposedly the demons took care of him. Without Salazar, the Heir couldn't control the new races, and he had the armies slaughter the majority of them. A lot escaped, and the bloodlines aren't pure anymore, but although they aren't enough to do much damage on their own, together under the power of Voldemort they could pose a great threat."
Everyone was silent for a moment, stunned.
"But what about the good Dark creatures?" Fred looked puzzled. "Lupin's a Dark creature, as you call it, but he's perfectly fine. Hagrid's safe, too, but he's only part Giant."
"It doesn't matter," explained Hermione patiently. "As long as Voldemort says the right spells and incantations, all the creatures will be called to him, the great Summons. There's no real way to escape the Summons, unless they're in a cage or cell of some sort that they can't escape."
"Why don't they ever tell us about this in History of Magic?" Harry asked. "It would do us some good to learn about something useful."
"But it would scare most witches and wizards out of their wits," Ron supplemented. "If some evil nutcase wanted to create a new Dark species, they could just think back to ol' Professor Binns. 'Oh yes!'" he imitated in a high squeaky voice, "'Now all I have to do is find my fifth year text from Hogwarts and we'll be set!'"
"Basically, yes, that's it." Draco strode over and leaned against the back of Harry's chair. "That's why they put it in Hogwarts, A History. It is an important part of the school's historical background, but they'd rather not everyone know."
"Hey Malfoy," said George, one of his famous looks on his face that meant the next question could lead to trouble. "Have you ever found a skeleton or a body in the Slytherin dungeons?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "No, I haven't, but I could arrange it," he said, pointedly looking at George. "But there were things there, once, before the Slytherins decided to have a midnight snack, that is."
"Yea, the bunch of flesh-eating-"
"Ron!" This time it was Hermione who stepped in.
"Well, looks like Weasley and I will have no problem keeping the old rivalry alive this year." Draco was still lounging against the rocking chair, Harry's untidy hair tickling his forearm. Draco shivered.
"You two better not jump at each other's throats every chance you get." Harry had a stern look on his face. "I don't mind you guys bantering back and forth, but bloodshed will make me turn both of you into small white mice and then I'll let Crookshanks after you."
"Why do people always want to turn me into a rodent?" Draco looked at Harry, pouting. "Why not a swan, or a snake-"
"Maybe they're trying to say something about your character, Malfoy. Plus, you're already a snake," Ron said teasingly, without the malice he had used before.
"Harry!" called Mrs. Weasley, "Ready to open your presents?"
They all gathered in the living room after Mrs. Weasley had levitated all the presents onto the coffee table. From Fred and George Harry had received an assortment of products from their joke shop, much to Mrs. Weasley's dismay. Ginny had pitched in with Hermione to buy a large set of books covering everything known about Quidditch, including the 1001 New Moves That Will Improve Your Quidditch Game that Harry had been looking at that afternoon. Mrs. Weasley had knitted him another sweater, this one dark red with a gold H in the middle. Mr. Weasley gave him a new type of parchment, a Ministry invention, where words appeared without a quill. All one had to do was dictate , and afterwards the parchment would fold itself up and seal itself. Ron had given him a CD of the new wizard rock band Boomslang Paradise, with their new hit "The Sorcerer."
As Harry picked up the last present, from Draco, he caught the other boy's mischievous glance and returned it. The package was long and thin, and for a moment Harry's mind went to the gutter and he was horrified. Fighting back the mental images, Harry unwrapped the shining green tissue paper and a candle fell into his outstretched palm, along with a knut and a sickle. It was a long taper, gold and silver intertwined for twelve inches that met in a neon blue wick at the top. Harry's mind flashed back to a night not so long ago in his room...
"Someone's a romantic. Bring a few candles in here and we could make a cheesy romance novel."
"And what would they say? 'It was a dark stormy night, and as Harry wrestled Draco onto the creaking bed, they kicked over the candles and set the entire neighborhood on fire.'"
"So I'd have to force you, eh? I thought this was one of those mutual relationships."
"It is. Just adds some interest when there's a bit more action."
And then, back to that afternoon...
"I'm being stupid. And I can pay you back later, don't worry."
"Oh, you'll pay me back alright. Just not in galleons, sickles, and knuts."
Harry grinned, knowing that there was more to the gift than what everyone saw.
"A candle? Does it do something?" Ron looked a bit skeptical.
"Yes, it burns." Draco smiled at Ron.
"You set yourself up for that one," said George.
Ron didn't return the smile. "Yea, I know."
"But, yes, there's more to it than just burning. It's charmed to not melt, at all, so it basically lasts forever. If you untwist the gold and silver, each becomes a temporary wand that can be used for ten simple spells, or five advanced ones. The wick becomes an exploding charm, and will have the effect of a stunning spell on anyone within a one-hundred foot radius when activated. Comes in handy at times, if you ask me."
Fred whistled. "Where'd you find that?"
"Not in Diagon Alley. And that's all I'm going to say."
"Just as well. I don't need Fred and George buying any exploding charms." Mrs. Weasley looked slightly alarmed at Draco's gift, but didn't say anything.
They ate, drank, and talked late into the night, and finally called it quits around 2 A.M. Hermione and Ginny stumbled into their room with mumbled good-nights and Ron crashed face first into his bed the moment he had his pyjamas on.
"Harry, wait," whispered Draco as Harry pulled back the sheets. "Don't go to sleep yet, come here."
"Draco, I'm exhausted, can I please just go to bed?"
"No, follow me."
Grumbling, Harry stayed close on Draco's heels as they climbed the few stairs to the attic above Ron's room.
"This better not just be because you want to kiss me." Harry was irritable, and he felt more like nodding off than snogging.
"No, it's not because I want to kiss you, although that may come later. I wanted to give you the other part of your present." Draco slid a ring off his finger, and taking Harry's right hand, slid it onto his ring finger. The ring was thin and made out of pure silver, the image of a topaz lion twisting with an emerald serpent raised on the outside. The moonlight caught the carved gems and the dim glow that came from within them diffused
across their faces.
"The lion represents you, and the serpent me. As long as their internal lights glow, we're alive. Once the lights die out, we know the other is gone." Draco held out his right hand and let Harry see his. "This way, we'll be able to keep an eye on each other, without looking too suspicious."
Harry looked from the rings to the unveiled, pure emotion in Draco's smokey eyes, his heart in his throat. Taking Draco's hand, he pulled him close and initiated a bruising kiss, which Draco returned with just as much force. Harry felt Draco link his arms around his neck, his slender fingers raking through his hair.
"Thank you," Harry gasped as Draco licked a trail up his neck to his ear, then went back down, leaving bite marks every few inches. The fine, silky strands of Draco's hair caressed his skin, causing him to shudder.
"I thought you said you didn't want to kiss," Draco paused and smiled against Harry's ear. "Change of plans?"
"Right now I want to do so much more than kiss you." Harry slid his hand up the front of Draco's pyjama top.
"Harry, you're drunk. I can smell it. How many Butterbeers did you drink?"
"Five. I'm not drunk." To prove his point, he pushed away from Draco and tried to stand up, but stumbled. Draco caught him and steadied him in an instant.
"You're definitely drunk. Sit down." Draco guided Harry over to a dusty old couch, and laid him down, his head resting on one of Mrs. Weasley's handmade pillows.
"I'm fine. Really." Although he had his glasses on, Harry couldn't see very well, or think clearly. "Just come here."
About all the protest Draco gave was a brief "Harry" in a warning tone as he leaned down and pressed his lips against the other boy's. Draco could taste the sweetness left by the beer, mixed with the taste of Harry, slightly salty but not bitter. Harry responded immediately, and Draco climbed into Harry's lap, trying to erase any distance between them. It was enough to make anybody drunk, and Draco threw all caution into the wind.
Making as little noise as possible, they quickly shrugged out of their shirts, their agile Seeker's hands undoing the buttons with ease. The explored, memorizing the defined planes and ridges of their bodies. Both were slim without being thin, but Draco was defined and solid where Harry was soft.
Cupping Harry's face with one hand, Draco drew away slowly, locking in to Harry's gaze as his eyes flew open, revealing two emeralds burning with desire.
"What is it?" Harry asked, searching Draco's expression. "Is everything all right?"
"Everything is perfect." Draco smiled, a true, open, heartfelt smile. "I just wanted to say
that-"
Harry didn't find out what Draco wanted to say, because at that moment the attic door swung open slowly, revealing a flame haired silhouette in the doorway. Draco tried to scramble off Harry, but it was too late; there was no way they could cover up the evidence. Shirtless, they froze, a tangled mess of limbs and untidy hair. The figure froze, too, openmouthed.
"Harry? Malfoy?!"
