3- Let the Mourners Come

There was a long discussion about Harry's appearance changes at the breakfast table, since every member of the Gryffindor house seemed to have an opinion which they expressed with no hesitance. Mostly Harry tried not to listen, but after catching Malfoy staring at him and smirking at the fuss all over the Great Hall, he remembered what exactly he had said to the other boy just last night.

He had wanted to impress. As a fact.

He had done the operation to his eyes, God, he even had bought a fake ID and to do that he had associated with Dudley's friends. He really had gone through a lot of trouble and now the summer and all the girls he had met seemed to be far, far away, hidden by the mountains of Scotland. Which was actually true.

The girls in Gryffindor were indeed impressed. Ginny had always been smitten for him, but never, it appeared because of his looks. Now it was a different story.

"Well, his eyes to look a lot brighter and more colorful without the glasses," Dean expressed his artist's opinion.

"But it does seem kinda' scary, all that emotion running wild…" Lavender looked at Harry as if he were some animal in a cage for all to gaze at.

"Harry is just sensitive… That's actually charming beyond words," some other girls chimed in and giggled among themselves.

There were sudden bright flashes and Colin Creevey appeared with his eye of glass. He smiled at Harry and tried to coax him into moving his head a bit to his side just to take an even better picture.

Harry, without further words, just rose from his table and left the Great Hall. He heard murmurs and whispers behind his back. Ron even yelled.

--

"Your dearest friends bothering you, Lion King?" Harry heard a sneaky drawl just behind a corner.

He found Malfoy, casually leaning against a wall in a dark niche on the way to the Potion's Lab.

"What did you just call me?" Harry stepped in the hollow alcove.

Malfoy just gazed at him and smirked shamelessly. He looked like he was going to start laughing about a joke he heard just in his head: "You heard me."

"You know, I once read a review that the only thing remarkable about the cartoon was that it got the viewers down to tears, no matter how stone cold they were. Did the same happen to you, Malfoy? Do I make you cry?" Harry sneered at him, leaning closer.

Malfoy didn't loose his composure, and even though they were referencing Muggle culture he didn't seem inclined to change the subject or afraid that anybody could overhear them.

"Well, he does die in a remarkably absurd way for a king," the blonde boy crossed his arms over his chest. He looked weird wearing his robe and polished black shoes, almost appearing as immaculate as ever, if it hadn't been for the piercing.

"Yeah, that's when everybody cries," Harry grinned. "Will you cry for me when Voldemort kills me?"

Suddenly the niche seemed to be too narrow and small, pressing the both boys in each other's private territory. It was obvious that Malfoy wasn't comfortable with the idea of that. Harry just couldn't figure out whether it was Voldemort or him being dead.

"How-" but Malfoy didn't finish, just caught himself letting something 'inappropriate' slip and regained his smirk and said: "I think it won't be necessary seeing how you have impressed your Gryffindor friends with your glamorous appearance. You can always trust them to be there by you side."

With that the blonde just left. Harry stood there for a few more moments, trying to decipher how it was meant and not letting the awareness that his friends were almost never there when he needed him, press in his mind.

During Potions Harry just ignored Snape and Hermione, who seemed to spend the time reminding him that he shouldn't laze. Instead he spent his time drawing his coffin, really putting thought into it, how he would like it to look, and a crying Malfoy on his knees next to the coffin.

When he slipped it to Malfoy, he just paled and then glared at Harry. Somehow having somebody to count on, even if it was Malfoy who hated him with all his might, made Harry feel better.

--

"Harry, if you're finished with your dinner, I would like to have word with you," Dumbledore caught him as the boy was exiting the Great Hall. Surprisingly enough, his lessons for the day were over since the new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts was still on his way to Hogwarts having only just finished a project in Germany, or so they were told.

"Of course, Professor," Harry looked at the Headmaster, who didn't seem to have slept more than he had the previous night.

After they both had sat down in the comfortable armchairs in a corner of the Dumbledore's office and the Headmaster poured them both hellishly strong Earl Grey, Harry decided to start the conversation: "If you don't mind me saying that, Professor, I know there is a lot going on right now, but you don't really look well rested. And if this kind of tea is what you have been drinking, it is no wonder that you seem not to be sleeping at all."

Dumbledore looked up from his cup and smiled: "I actually wanted to talk about you, but I appreciate your concern, Harry. You are right; the summer has been full of events. I have assigned many Aurors to follow the activities of Death Eaters all over England. Fortunately, they seem to have decided not to start anything rash right now, but we still have to be aware of them every moment."

"I understand, but it is still crucial that everybody involved can think straight and feel well and strong if something does happen…"

Dumbledore sighed and put his cup down, seemingly taking notice of Harry's concern and also deciding to change the subject. He turned to the boy already with a twinkle in his light blue eyes: "Well, tell me, Harry, how it happens that you have corrected your eyesight and nobody in the Wizarding world didn't even seem to know that before breakfast?"

"I did it the Muggle way," Harry announced seemingly proud of himself. "I didn't want it to be all over the headlines and also, regarding Ron and Hermione, they appear to have decided not to associate with me over the summer."

"Ah, well, your friends were my doing, Harry. I did tell them that it should be for the best if we kept our locations secret during the summer, so no owl sending should occur. I thought it to be safe for you if you just stayed at your relative's home for the summer where you are well hidden and protected."

"Oh," Harry sat in the armchair speechless. Sure, he had known that Dumbledore was slowly loosing his wits but he would have never accounted something so rash on the Headmaster's behalf. Ron and Hermione were the stupid one's in this situation having obeyed.

"And Harry, there is this one more thing I would like to ask you…"

"Yeah?" Harry looked at Dumbledore and saw that the old man really did understand that what he had done had not made Harry happy, but nothing could be changed now.

"I wanted you, if you would feel inclined, to start some more advanced training with some of the professors. It would be something like Auror training and we would also see and have an opportunity to monitor your powers which have proved invaluable."

'Auror's training' was the magic word to Harry's brain. Before he could even notice, he had signed for additional lessons with Dumbledore, Lupin and Snape that would take place during some lessons like Divination and Transformations and he would be excused. He had bargained with the professor to let him skive off Potions too, but that was a no go. And for Lupin's lessons, since he wasn't Hogwarts professor, he would have to go to Hogsmead.

He left the Headmaster's office feeling mentally sated and also a bit more worried about the older man.

--

The next day passed by without any coincidences for Harry, but he did feel content with everybody having accepted his rules of not bothering him all the time. In Gryffindor everybody seemed offended by the boy's sudden lack of interest in their chatter and jokes. Not that Harry himself cared. He would just go flying by himself since Ron had taken the side of the 'offended' and made an ultimatum- whether Harry invites everybody flying or goes alone.

After the dinner he and Hermione had arranged a meeting in the library so that Harry could finally catch up on the topics they had discussed in Potions while he had been more inclined on drawing.

They both had chosen a secluded table far away from everybody, although some Hufflepuff girls did send dreamy looks at Harry, but at least they didn't come up to talk.

The boy liked the privacy they had in the library, the soft murmurs of the few people that were mental enough to sit there already in the second school day.

"Now, Potter," Harry was taken aback when Draco Malfoy waltzed in and took a seat in the end of their table. "Let's make this a multiple choice test. Have you become: a- mentally deranged or b- suicidal? Nota Bene! I did not say that you couldn't be both or that you have never been either. Now, what will it be?"

After finishing his small tirade, Malfoy just looked at the Gryffindor boy across the table and plastered a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. He was dressed in Muggle clothing. His shirt was a dark lilac color that looked unusual but suited him perfectly. He had dark grey tight trousers on and his favorite, it now seemed so to Harry, Converse All Stars.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, her tone angry: "Can I help you, Malfoy?"

The blonde boy just looked at her dismissingly: "Yeah, you can leave."

"Malfoy, I have no idea what you are going on about, but if you don't leave in the next two seconds, I will unfortunately be inclined to drag you with my own hands to the nearest lavatory and flush your head down the toilet," Harry leaned forward so he wouldn't have yell.

"I bet you would love to meet me again in a public loo. I also bet that you are one of those sickos who get off at the possibility of being caught. But as it derives from some recent conversation we had, I think you are already waiting for the mourners to come," another sweet smile from him and Harry felt like he had just eaten too much sugar and now had to throw up.

"Malfoy, I can't understand what exactly is your latest problem, maybe something bad exploded in the dungeons and you got intoxicated. But I beg of you, please go and see Madame Pomfrey. I have a feeling you will be sprouting warts all over the place if you stay so close to my wand," Hermione said and it even made Harry feel proud of her. She really did pull out her wand and put it on the table.

"I just need to talk to Potter for a while. I will bring him back unharmed, scout's parole," Malfoy held his left hand up, clearly making Hermione see the Muggle reference that made her eyes widen.

"It's the right hand, Malfoy. Take him, I just want you out of my sight," Hermione mumbled into her book.

"Hermione, you will let me go off with Malfoy. More to that, you said that he should Take me?!" Harry was shocked. He wasn't really scared, just offended. "Don't I get a saying in this?!"

"NO!" Hermione and Malfoy said in unison that way earning a scolding look from Madame Pince, and a while later she watched how the Slytherin boy dragged Harry out of the library. He looked at her and mumbled: "If you don't see me back in two days, notify the authorities, Madame Pince, please…"

--

"Scout's parole?! You don't really find it important to keep your Muggle background a secret, do you?" Harry yelled at Malfoy who just continued walking down to the gates of Hogwarts in the direction of Hogsmead.

"Will you stop yelling? Somebody will notice us," the blonde boy hissed at him, his silver eyes shining in the twilight maniacally.

"Where are we going anyway?"

"A bar," Malfoy simply answered. They were now trotting down the slight hill that leaded directly to the main street in the small village.

"Why?"

"To get drunk."

"What?" Harry halted his step and looked at Malfoy curiously.

"Because I need a drink. I see it from the way how you seem abandoned all your friends and started believing in death by the hands of the Big Bad Noseless Monster, that you also need it," Malfoy said, turning around and looking in Harry's eyes with brutal honesty.

"But why with me?" Harry resumed walking, letting his companion lead his way.

"Because they say that while drinking even a horse appears shaggable. I don't know. Maybe because I am desperate and you are the only one who knows what happened to me over the summer, but I don't want to tell anyone else yet. Non multa, sed multum," the boy entered a shabby looking pub away from the main promenade.

"That was more honesty than I had ever hoped to hear from you, Malfoy. And it does suit you to talk in a dead language that nobody except geeks understands," Harry smirked at the glare the blonde sent in his direction.

"Shut up and drink," he handed over a glass and after choosing a table he put a Scotch bottle down.

"You know, we shouldn't get drunk…," Harry eyed the bottle which's label read: The Dalmore, Cigar Malt.

"But what's the use of being in Scotland if we can't consume the best Scotch there is? Of course, it's just my humble opinion," the boy poured himself a glass and took a sip. "Mmm… You just can't let this taste go pass you."

The whisky was indeed good. And the drunkenness was even better. The Slytherin had been right, Harry had needed to loosen up. Well, maybe they hadn't needed to drink almost the whole bottle, but shared between two people it wasn't that much.

"You know, what's the most horrible thing in the Muggle world?" Malfoy said, leaning on the table and gazing at the far away wall.

"The life span?" Harry tried to imagine what exactly Malfoy saw that was so interesting in the wall.

"No, you dickhead. The fact that they don't have Hangover Potions."

"Yeah, but where do we get one tomorrow? Madame 'mpfrey is not likely to give us any," Harry slurred.

"I'll get some from Snape, and we can meet, I will get you some too…"

"I never thought I will be saying this, but we need to get back," Harry stood up. His suddenly got even dizzier than before.

"What? No! I'm not going back, they all are stupid as farm animals. And they smell like that also!" Malfoy whined as Harry tried to drag him out of the chair. He just managed to pull the boy down on the floor.

"I will not get busted because of you. Now get up, Malfoy, stop acting like a child," Harry got irritated. He really wasn't fond of the idea being caught drunk and out of bed.

"You can go, I will stay," Malfoy just poured himself another glass. The bottle was now empty.

"I will not leave you here. What can assure me that if you get caught while trying to make your way back, you will not tell that I was with you? Or even better- tell them that I was the one who got you drunk?"

"That's some Slytherin insight you have there, Potty," Malfoy giggled. "I do have you by your tale, right?"

"Bad mental image! Now get up already!!!"

--

Harry made it to the Gryffindor Tower just a half an hour after curfew. But Ron and Hermione were still up waiting for him.

"Shit…"

"Where have you been all evening, Harry?!" Hermione yelled across the common room. Some people came out of their dormitories because of the racket.

"Well, you let me go off with Malfoy, didn't you? And we got drunk from the tastiest whisky I have ever tried," Harry slouched on the sofa not at all affected by his friend's anger. "You should try it sometime. It was mild and almost sweet but still strong. And kinda' cigar smoky… mhm. Delicious!"

"You are drunk? And you were with Malfoy? You could have gotten yourself killed. Or maybe Malfoy was just spying on you? " Ron screeched at Harry for what seemed an eternity.

"Malfoy isn't on their side anymore, Ron," Hermione tried to defend her friend.

He then turned to Hermione: "And you let him go?! Hermione!"

Harry didn't like this at all. He turned to Ron and tried to say as softly as possible: "How come when it comes to you spending time with me flying or sending letters over the summer, you seem to not even think of it as something necessary, Ron? But when I go out drinking with somebody just to loosen up from all this tension between us, you get all freaked out and suddenly care!"

"Okey, have it your way, Potter!" Ron yelled and stomped to bed.

Harry just turned to Hermione, not understanding why Ron had overreacted: "What did I say?"

--

Next day the headline of the front page of the Daily Prophet read:

Hogwarts, a school where they let our children drink whenever they wish, Harry Potter, the Golden Child of the Wizarding World growing up and finding his way around rules.

After the news had traveled all around the school and reached also the professors, Harry and Draco had received a long lecture from both McGonagall and Snape about drinking and being out of bed after curfew. They received another detention to top the one they had gotten upon their arrival.

But the headline of the Teen Witch Weekly was concentrating on more different matters:

Harry Potter, too vain for his friends? Associating with Draco Malfoy, the son of the supposed Death Eater, Lucius Malfoy, the heir of the wealthiest and most glamorous Pure-blood family.

The Quibbler had written something obscene about Harry having become a drunkard because of all the stress because of You-Know-Who and that he was now having it off with Malfoy.

As the blonde Slytherin gave Harry the Hangover Potion as he had promised, they agreed that the next time they will be more careful.

Neither of them wanted to get into the fact that without actually saying that, they had negotiated that there will be a next time.

Figuratively speaking, being the red cherry on the top, Ron was not talking to Harry, using Hermione as an owl to say what a bastard and asshole he truly was and how no one had noticed that before.

But Harry didn't have time to ponder any of that; his lessons with Lupin were scheduled to start the next day. They would be on the most efficient and effective defense spells and he had to do a lot of research before that.

He thanked all the mighty forces there existed that Snape's terror hours were only planned for the week to come. And Dumbledore hadn't given any notice neither to when nor about what the lessons with him will take place. Needless to say that Harry was anticipating his next meeting with the Headmaster.