Title: Black and Deep Desires

By: Dr. Kim-chan

Me: Okay, a couple of chapters ago some guy/chick gave me quite a nasty review, criticizing how I'm letting the Harry/Draco relationship develop. Well, I've decided to rebuke the statement. For one, it's not simply hate-suddenly-turns-into-love kind of thing. May seem like it, but that's exactly why I want to make my story different. You see, my theory is that Draco had always had affections for Harry. However, he's hiding it under the rage that has built up from years of frustration and jealousy. His father may also have had a hand in influencing him. Of course: Harry is Voldemort's enemy, and so he is Lucius's, and so he must be Draco's as well. Harry, take it from here.

Harry: Finally, under the pressure of the war culminating, there's the possibility that many fanfiction authors explore. That possibility is that as Draco realizes how horrible Lucius and Voldemort really is, he becomes tempted to come closer and closer to the side of good—meaning he'll realize the source of his frustration. Some have made the mistake of jumping to the ending before they analyze all the other aspects, which is how Harry/Draco writers usually get bad reps, but we here at B&DD are well aware it goes deeper than that. That's why—even though I wanted to introduce the Second Big Climax around Christmas—it'll take a while to set the relationship up.

Draco: What's even more clever is that we're incorporating Harry being fed the Malefecium Elixir, which'll of course make things even more complicated.

Ron: So sit back and enjoy the crazy ride, and we'll get back to me and Lucius sooner than you think. Let's go to Chapter 26, eh? Rolling! (clicks remote)

(Begin Chap. 26)

…About an hour after lunch was served, Draco stood outside the first-floor painting of the bowl of fruit with the jumping pear; it laid to rest now, unlike it had a few minutes ago. Although Draco had put a powerful Memory Charm on Dobby, he didn't want to risk being remembered, so he sent Romilda. As it was, she was a fifth year, which fit even more perfectly into his plan.

What he first had to take into account was that she always served him Chocolate Cauldrons—after the second time it was obviously going to be predictable. So, he had to write a letter to his father and explain in detail how getting a box of deluxe caramel-filled wands would fit into his plan. After receiving them yesterday, Draco laced two of them with the Elixir. This morning he equipped himself with a darkness powder made from a Peruvian Vipertooth as well as his prefect badge. He actually had to step foot inside the Weasley twins' new store in Diagon Alley to get the powder, and they hadn't been the best of hosts.

The powder was simply to get out of trouble if necessary. The prefect badge was exactly why it was crucial for Romilda to be in fifth year. The elves weren't particularly aware of everything that happened inside the castle, much less who was appointed prefect for their house…

It had been almost ten minutes already. It didn't take that long to ask elves to serve something. Draco was about ready to tickle the pear himself when the frame swung open. Romilda stepped out, quieting down the elves' submissive chatter in a whisper.

"No thanks, I really don't want anything. Thank you, though. Bye!"

Romilda closed the portrait door and skipped merrily to Draco's side, who was beside himself with a smirk.

"I can't believe it! Harry's going to fall in love with me!" she bellowed. After Draco shushed her, she repeated, "I can't believe it! Harry's going to fall in love with me," in a whisper.

"The elves gave me their word; they'll be serving the plate at the Gryffindor table next to Harry at dinner. But how can we be sure if he gets the one with the Love Potion in it?"

"He will. We didn't spike all of them; only two. It'll be better if he eats both of them, but at the least he should eat one. Did you also find the goblets for Gryffindor Table?"

Romilda nodded so vigorously, his head almost fell off.

"Then nobody else will have an appetite for the caramel wands either. The silvery-green liquid I told you to put in their drinks was a Persuasion Potion—old-fashioned magic, but at least it won't counter the effects of the Ma—the Love Potion. You have nothing to worry about," the blond reassured. Under his breath he added, "and neither do I…"

In all truth, he truly didn't have anything to worry about. He wasn't caught in the act, and he had a liability. It couldn't have gone any smoother. The Malfoy family would renew their respect at last.

They were just about ready to make their departure when Zabini rounded the corner with a newspaper in his hand. Upon meeting Draco's eyes with his own, he ran over to him and took him aside with no acknowledgement of the fact Romilda was standing there, looking confused as usual.

"Draco, here you are, thank Merlin," Blaise said in a shaky voice. These words alone let the blond Slytherin know that whatever he said next would change things—forever.

"I'm sure your father's told you already. Draco, I—"

"Told me what?" Draco asked, a terrible look of concern washing over his face. Blaise never acted like this. Something was wrong…horribly wrong.

"He—he didn't tell you? Didn't you read the paper!"

Without a word more he handed it to him.

…Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione, and Ron were attending study hall. In a bizarre paradox it was the most relaxed and the tensest study hall they'd ever been to, though. The oddest thing was that McGonagall was the teacher overseeing today's study hall, and she didn't seem to care. The room was mostly filled up with fifth years and above, trying to figure out their worst fears and—if they even could—the best way to get past them. The last week of September was almost upon them, and so was Professor Mills' test.

"I…don't know…what my worst fear could be. I've spent all week thinking on it," Hermione admitted hesitantly. Her bushy eyebrows were scrunched up deep into a furrow. She almost said another thing, and then her lips clenched and she changed it.

"I might as well finish my Ancient Runes homework. We moved on to deciphering the pre-developed Ogham alphabet."

Harry was propped up on his elbows, wondering the exact same thing. He remembered Lupin telling him that he was afraid of "fear itself". Did he mean fear personified? If so, what was all his fears rolled up into one, something that would scare even Professor Mills? She could've at least gave him some warning…

Finally, to top off this strange hour, hurried, shuffling steps were heard coming closer to the open room. Everyone looked up and fell into a revered silence as Dumbledore himself walked up to where McGonagall was standing. A moment of fearful whispers and an audible gasp from McGonagall was all they needed to know to realize something was up. McGonagall looked around the room with an extremely tense expression on her face, stopping to stare at Ron. By this time Harry was beginning to get used to it, so he placed it at the back of his mind to mull over it later.

"Where is Mr. Malfoy now?" she whispered.

"In Umira's office…"

There was more to that sentence, but they weren't able to overhear the rest. McGonagall took another worried glance, then whatever she was torn between, she finally made up her mind.

"Apparently I have to see to a personal matter. Continue with your studies until the hour is done, please," she instructed in the calmest voice possible, but everyone only became even more restless. Suddenly Dumbledore leaned into her ear again, and she added:

"Mr. Weasley, if you will accompany us. Take your belongings."

Ron shared a bewildered look with his two friends, then put away his books and followed the two adults out of the room. Harry watched them as they left, then turned to Hermione with narrowed eyes.

"Draco," he said simply. Hermione nodded, her eyes straying from the esoteric Norse code.

"Don't tell me you have a mind to follow them! They'll see you for sure!" she hissed. "And besides, there's something I have to tell you. This must mean Malfoy's just found out—so you know what you have to do."

Harry continued to stare.

"By all means, try not to fight with him over the next few weeks. I dislike him as much as you do, but—"

"I know," he said directly, then in a far-off, dismal voice he added, "Of all people, I should know."

…Ron's apprehension had been bad enough when he reminded himself he was walking with the headmaster himself. What was so important that he was going to help Dumbledore with a 'personal crisis'? The feeling only grew when he realized exactly where they were going. They were walking towards the fourth floor. He thought he heard them whisper something about 'Umira's office'…oh great. Next to Snape, Professor Mills gave him the creeps. But he also heard Professor McGonagall say 'Mr. Malfoy', and his heart soared. Wait. Or did she mean…?

Dumbledore stopped at a door and rapped on it briskly. At once it swung open, and there stood the redhaired woman. Her violet eyes immediately fixed on Ron, but she spoke to the two adults as she led them all in.

"Really, Mr. Dumbledore, there was no need to bring Ron—"

"How long have we known each other, Umira? Seven years you were in Ravenclaw, and now as a fellow alumnus. By all means, call me Albus."

She pouted in that certain way that meant that was the least important thing they could talk about at the moment. She began to usher them into the back of the room (used in the night as the teacher's bedroom), but before they had taken their first step Ron heard a hysterical sobbing and the blunt, deep voice of Professor Snape. Ron's stomach sunk deeper; he wasn't sure which sound was more dreadful. But he knew he heard that sound somewhere before…an uncontrollable kind of crying, almost like a scream…

His heart skipped a beat. It was Draco's cry.

Time also seemed to skip a beat; his eyes instantly met the sight of Draco sitting on the small bed behind the partition, his cheeks puffy, and his gray-blue eyes that familiar, bruised shade of violet. He was always thin when he cried—it was the dehydration from crying. The only thing separating now from then was that he wasn't curled up in the corner of a dim-lit room, bleeding through numerous cuts in his pajamas. Sitting in an ornate wooden chair beside him was Snape, with a facial expression Ron was sure he was only going to witness now and never again. It was the expression of both shock and sympathy…

Snape looked up and immediately noticed Ron standing there. After a while, so did everyone else.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley. We should let you know what is going on. As you've noticed, Mr. Malfoy has received some rather gruesome news recently," Professor McGonagall started to explain, "and it relates to You-Know-Who and his forces."

"I do not know if you are aware or not, but...there's been another death," Dumbledore started to trail off, but Professor Snape stared Ron straight in the eye and pronounced:

"You've been the Malfoys' servant this past summer. Would it trouble you to know, Weasley, that Narcissa Malfoy has been dead as of the night before?"

Ron's eyes grew as large as they could, and he glanced at Draco for an explanation. He couldn't have heard that right. Mrs. Malfoy was dead? But…but how? When? Draco glared at him for a moment through tears, then nodded and scowled, sniffling anew.

"Wha—?" was all Ron could choke out before Dumbledore interrupted for a further explanation.

"About a month ago, various Death Eaters—among them Peter Pettigrew—had been accusing Mrs. Malfoy of acts of treason. The allegations had been misleading for the most part until she apparently dared to cross You-Know-Who personally last week. She'd been hiding out at the le Fays' mansion until, by way of the Imperious Curse, a Meredith le Fay surrendered and uncovered her hiding place. She was found and killed immediately, but not before they performed the Imperious Curse upon her as well."

He was already done, but he would've stopped anyway due to Professor Mills giving him stern looks and glancing back at Draco, who had begun to shudder.

"There had been deep suspicions in the Ministry that Lucius Malfoy had set up the murder himself. However, he had been found innocent of conspiracy. However, this murder has raised questions about his inheritance. I don't know if any of you two read the Daily Prophet, but what they've said is in fact true. You two now stand as heirs to the Malfoy estate."

At this Draco stopped crying immediately and gave the strongest glare he had ever given to Ron, who shrunk back just a little. That was scary coming from him. Even Professor Snape was forced to look up at Dumbledore with incredulity, McGonagall doing the same.

"He named Weasley as an heir? But—"

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Draco shrieked, preparing to burst into tears again. "No way will Weasley inherit one bloody Knut from my family! It's not as if they're married! They only acted like it!"

McGonagall looked down at Draco with a puzzled expression that almost made Ron burst out laughing, but then he realized Draco had said too much.

" 'Acted like it'?" she inquired.

"Mr. Malfoy has apparently been harboring emotions for Weasley ever since that day when he kidnapped him in Diagon Alley," Professor Mills piped up. Everyone looked at her then, except for Draco, who was still shooting dagger looks at Ron.

"You mean—Malfoy's father and Mr. Weasley—"

"Are romantically involved," Snape finished for McGonagall, who now looked as if she would faint right then and there. Dumbledore looked strangely serene, as if he'd known this whole time. Professor Mills certaintly did, but she stepped towards Ron and bored into him with her violet eyes.

"Is that true, Mr. Weasley?" she asked, although it was more on behalf of her fellow colleagues that she was even bothering to ask.

Ron had been caught, hands down. He was standing before Draco, Professor Snape, Professor Mills, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore in one closed room. He couldn't lie to all of them in their faces, especially if one was a true Seer and one was a direct witness of what had happened. But if he told the truth, they would most likely prevent them from seeing each other again. Then all their waiting would have been in vain.

What could he say?

"If it's true, I certainly hope something will be done!" McGonagall burst out at last. Ron's heart dropped along with his stomach. It was the beginning of the end.

"But can Lucius truly be considered a threat to Weasley, Minerva?" Snape asked.

"Lucius is forty-four years old!" McGonagall shouted at him, taking a leaf from Draco's book. "Mr. Weasley's only sixteen! And Mr. Malfoy has been proven to be a former—if not a current—Death Eater! You don't consider that a threat?"

"He can't be much of one if Weasley's so taken with him."

"But he doesn't know any better!"

"Yes I do!"

McGonagall looked back at Ron with a severe glance. Ron bit his lip, yet he didn't back down on what he said. "Sorry, Professor McGonagall. I meant…he isn't fooling me. We…uh…I mean—"

"So you return Lucius's affections?"

Ron looked down and blushed, saying nothing else. He caught himself.

"I believe that speaks for itself," Snape replied cynically. McGonagall threw up her hands and turned to Dumbledore and Professor Mills.

"Well! You two have the final say. What should we do?"

(End Chap. 26)

Lucius: Yet another cliffhanger lets this story hang in the balance. But we did answer a major question for the reviewers—

Draco: (runs in, jumps on my back, and attempts to choke me repeatedly) YOU KILLED MOTHER! NOW I MUST KILL YOU! (points at Lucius) And YOU don't feel any sorrow, you sadistic bastard!

Me: May…I…remind you—ack—that this…erk…isn't real life! Your mother isn't really dead! And even then, technically Voldemort killed her, not me!

Draco: IT'S THE PRINCIPLE! AND YOU'RE LETTING WEASLEY INHERIT HALF OF MY FORTUNE!

Ron: Oh boy. Let's see where this goes, and if Draco was actually successful at slipping Harry the Malefecium Elixir, next time in Chapter 27 of Black and Deep Desires.