Chapter 17
"What's going on in your head?
What's wrong?"
Howie Day – She Says

Draco and Harry helplessly watched as Remus sprinted away. The smell was terrible, but not that terrible, and Draco wondered what other curse their friend must have shouldered to have been panicked like that.

"Do we go after him or wait?" Draco asked. He was inclined to follow Remus because in the man's fleeing fright Draco doubted he would pay much attention to the path he took to escape the cloud of gas. Of course he did have that exceptional nose… and Remus did harbour more sense than the average wizard.

Harry growled in annoyance. "We don't have time to waste. Who knows where the others have been taken to? We have to finish this now! Fuck!" Harry punched the stone wall and then gingerly shook his bleeding hand, the skin peeling off of his knuckles.

"Idiot," Draco admonished, taking Harry's hand in his and casting a simple healing charm. The torn skin slowly knitted itself together, completely bypassing the scab stage and heading straight for complete recovery. Draco rubbed his thumb over the newly grown skin.

He looked up and saw Harry staring at him, intensely and almost a little frantically. "Draco. They're gone. This is my watch, and they are gone." He dropped his gaze and hung his head.

"Harry. You're being an idiot. Listen, Remus can find us on his own. We can leave signs that he can follow once he calms his crazy, wolfy head and comes to his senses. Let's go." He regrettably dropped Harry's hand, grown warm in his own, and walked through the doorway.

Beyond was another stupid, annoying, monotonous hallway. The only unique thing about this passage was that in approximately 50-yard intervals a bright ball of pinkish light hovered in the centre of the flat ceiling, blanketing everything in a rosy glow. A small flight of stairs—about twenty risers from top to bottom—took them deeper into whatever mystery awaited them. They'd gone another half an hour—the only sound the beat of their steps—before they reached a great door, solid oak and carved with gruesome detail: people and animals drawn and quartered, entrails hanging off of fearsome pikes, the evil glint of glee in a demon's arched eyes.

"So, you think we've found the lost, final work of Rodin?" Draco mused, his soft drawl belying just how worried he really was. A strong feeling of doom emanated from the door, cultivating despair.

"It's cursed," Harry said.

"You don't say," Draco replied with a sigh. Nothing surprised him anymore down here, least of all a cursed door.

Harry raised his wand and the door silently swung open, revealing a pool of inky blackness unpenetrated by the pink glow of the bulb overhead.

Draco looked over at him, eyes wide. "That was quick," he said.

"I didn't do anything," Harry said, surprise evident in his quiet words.

"Well… Umm, Auror before beauty," Draco said quickly with an insensitive smile.

Harry rolled his eyes and stepped into the dark.

His foot landed on something that gave way and his nostrils were accosted with tiny, unknown particles that flitted through the already musty air. He sneezed.

And then he was quickly pushed forward into the abyss as Draco followed him through.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself. Ever heard of Lumos?" And muted light illuminated the dank hall of bones.

"Merlin, Harry. What the hell?"

Hell, indeed. The two men stood in a cavernous room, ceiling arching high in sweeping ribs like those of St. Paul's in London. The room ran long and thin, reminding Harry even more of the great cathedral. The skeletal remains of a host of beings coated the floor, so many that the two could not pass without stepping on them. Harry scanned the room and saw only one exit on the far side. At the narrow end stood a stone pedestal with a strong aura bombarding Harry in a very uncomfortable way.

And then… everything faded away. All care, all concern, all thought just evaporated into the air, leaving behind nothing but a drive to be nearer to the pedestal, taking precedence over all other desires.

He turned towards the pedestal and moved forward. Each step he took caused a cloud of bone dust to fill the air, like the spores of a calcified puffball. The bones didn't so much crunch as relinquished their hold on the shape they'd retained through the years, falling into powder. The smell was dry and the air tasted of lost years and sorrow.

But he ignored the bone dust and the soft "Harry" that called him from behind and thought only of that aura, that energy of magic that pulsed and pulled at him, like the hungry tentacles of a great, evil fiend.

"Harry?"

One foot in front of the other, leaving a trail of crushed femurs and skulls, dust puffing with each step, and finally he stood next to the pedestal. It was deep gray stone, scarred and pocked from unknown weapons or spells, and on it sat a long, wooden pole, carved with odd angular shapes and the faces of forgotten gods.

And it was beautiful. And Harry suffered a hole in his core that he'd never realised existed and knew this relic would bring fulfillment to his empty, hollow life.

Wizard, I am yours. Come to me, wizard.

Harry reached out an arm, shaking in want and anticipation, but was stalled. Pulling his awareness away from that which was all he ever desired, he noticed a hand on his arm, barring him from the promise of completion.

And that would not do.

"Harry, what are you doing? What's going on?"

Something in Harry stopped him from flicking away the insignificant tick crawling on his skin, buzzing at his peripheral senses. Part of him bent an ear and heard the words and drew his attention away from the relic.

Stiffly, Harry turned his head and looked over. A blond man whose hand rested on his, gripping him tight, stood there.

Empty. Harry's eyes were empty.

Draco gasped at the hollow reflection of his wand's light in Harry's stare. His arm was a rigid branch of ironwood under Draco's hold.

"Harry?" Draco asked, forcing his voice calm though panic threatened to choke off his throat, block all words. "Harry, listen to me." The eyes remained on him, unrecognizing, but Harry's arm strained towards the wooden shaft lying on the stone pillar. "Harry?" A high, tinny tone overtook Draco's words. Fuck! What do I do? And he did the first thing that popped into his frantic mind.

"Petrificus Totalus." He cast, forcing all of his magical mettle into that one spell, overriding Harry's natural defenses and causing his body to spring into a stiff board and fall backward to the stone floor crunching the remains of the dead beneath him.

"Shite. SHITE!" Draco screamed to the dead multitude. "Mobilicorpus." Draco turned and walked away from the pedestal, out towards the centre of the room with Harry's floating body bobbing behind him.

New door? Old door?He stood for a few moments and looked from the gothic door they entered to the less ornate--yet still gilded in silver and onyx--door to his right.

Wizard…

Draco jumped at the word, feeling cold fingers run over his mind and, with a shudder, he ran towards the silver door and stepped through, Harry's rigid body following.

He entered a hallway designed just like the same miles he'd traversed before and continued to run. He wasn't blind to his surroundings, but the majority of his senses were strained on the power of the artefact behind him and its deadly shrine. When he could no longer feel those icy caresses on his mind he stopped and laid Harry down on the dusty floor.

"Finite Incantatum."

Harry immediately slumped and then reached up to rub the back of his head where it had slammed against the floor.

"What the fuck!" he yelped, sounding quite pissed.

"What do you mean, 'What the fuck'?" Draco asked, slightly manic. "That's supposed to be my line!"

All fire and spit slipped away from Harry like an innocent maiden sneaking from the arms of her love, shy and tentative. "What just happened?" he asked hopelessly.

Draco swallowed and cleared his throat, but he still couldn't seem to find his voice. "Something…" he coughed once more. "I think it was the shaft of the Staff. Whatever it was Harry, it wanted you. It wanted you bad." Draco dropped the words; they sounded inane, even if their truth was explicit.

The two men sat for a while longer staring at each other, tense uncertainty aching in their muscles. Perhaps they should just get the fuck out of there. Screw the others and just flee this hellhole. But as soon as that thought crossed his mind, Draco tossed it aside, knowing not only that there was no way Harry would ever abandon his friends, but also understanding that he wouldn't either. Plus, there was the added intrigue of that Staff and Draco never was a man who could turn away from some new mystery of a magical artefact. He blamed Snape.

"We have to go back for it."

Harry's words came as no surprise but Draco's eyes still sparkled at their implication.

"And let that thing eat you?" Draco asked dryly.

Harry smiled a cocksure smile and said, "What do I have to worry about, I've got you to look out for me." And at that moment, Draco wanted nothing more than to kiss him. But then their situation raced through his mind: people were missing, they were lost and trapped, that artefact was so powerful. This was not the time!

"Fuck it," he muttered and leaned forward, embracing Harry in a rough kiss. It was embarrassing, how eager and close he wanted to be to Harry, how even in this moment of death, he could brush it all aside as insignificant when he had Harry in his arms. Between kisses, Draco breathed sweet words over Harry's lips; silent promises that he hoped fervently to keep once they saw the light of day. He never knew his heart could beat this fast.

"We'll just grab the thing…" kiss to the forehead, right over Harry's crossed scars "…and disarm it… somehow…" kiss over the right eye "…and then we'll find Remus, should be easy enough…" kiss over the left eye "…and then hook up with Ron…" kiss on the nose "…and find our missing Aurors and get the hell out." Long, slow kiss on the lips, which Harry eagerly returned, gripping Draco as firmly as he held Harry in his own arms.

God, when he felt like this, he knew he could take on the world.

With regret, Draco broke the kiss with a sigh, his eyes tilted down staring at Harry's chest, coaxing his unfettered passion to listen to reason. But how could cold reason ever compare to the fire of passion? He chuckled to himself, realizing he very well could lose this battle, not that he really wanted to win.

Harry burrowed his face into Draco's neck; hot breaths ghosting across his smooth skin. Draco's eyes fell closed and he moaned as his nipples hardened.

"God, Draco. You… you're so beautiful." And Draco knew the Ice Prince never stood a chance.

"We have to…" Draco said breathlessly, gesturing towards the hallway they had just come from, wishing it would just disappear and the two wizards would find themselves back home, surrounded by friends, safe from sentient pieces of wood and crazy dungeon builders.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I know. So, how do we beat this thing?" He climbed to his feet and took a step away from Draco, visibly steeling himself for their current task.

"You're asking me? You're the most powerful wizard alive!" Draco laughed with an edge of bitterness.

"Maybe, but you're the most brilliant wizard alive… so you come up with the plan and I'll put it to use." Harry grinned crookedly and Draco relaxed.

"Most brilliant? What about Hermione?"

"Well, she's not here to help me, so I thought I would bequeath you with the honour."

"What? Buttering me up?"

"Anything to pad that ego in times of need," Harry said cheekily.

Draco snorted. "Fine… How are you on Occlumency?"

Harry took a deep breath, puffing his cheeks, and let the air out in a slow leak. "Well, it never was one of my strong points…"

"Figures. Well, it is one of my strong points. Hmm… Wait!" he said with excitement. "I've an idea. Never done before though…" He said those last words to himself.

"What?" Harry asked, Draco's enthusiasm obviously catching.

"Okay. Well, first hear me out. You suck at blocking things from your mind, though I am quite adept at it." Harry cocked his eyebrows at Draco. "Oh come on, it's true. You have more power, though. So here's my idea. You let me into your mind and I block you from the staff, using you as a king of… enhancer."

Through Draco's explanation Harry's eyebrows had gone through an exquisite dance all over his forehead and now they hunched together in a position than relayed a very solid message of 'what the fuck'. "Is that even possible?" he asked.

With a shrug, Draco said, "Don't know, but if it can be done, I'm sure we're the ones who could pull it off."

"Hmm, okay then. Come on in." Harry looked unsure and definitely concerned.

"Don't worry, Harry. I won't muck around in there. I promise." He laid his hand on Harry's arm, who smiled at the reassuring gesture.

Draco lifted his wand and laid the point on Harry's temple. Barely above a whisper, he said "Legilimens" and dove into Harry's mind.

He'd never used Legimency on someone who remained wide open for him, all barriers reduced to mere windows. If he wanted to, Draco knew he would steal a vast portion of Harry's life, know his history, his secrets, his fears… his desires, but he wouldn't do that. A few months ago, maybe, but now there was just no way he would ever betray the man whose thoughts swirled around him like dancing children.

And with that thought, one memory manifested and a small, scrawny boy walked towards Draco out of the scattered vortex. He was sad, Draco knew this, and he watched as the boy stared at his holey shoes as he took step by step towards him. The shoelaces flapped against the non-existent ground as each step was taken. Finally, the little boy stopped a few feet before him and then lifted his head.

"Are you here to help us?" asked the little boy in a small, yet echoing voice. It was Harry, albeit a much younger version.

"Yes," Draco said, his own voice sounding flat and two-dimensional. He crouched down before the young Harry Potter, rough in his abuse, sorrowful in his loneliness. "I'm here to help you, but you have to work with me. Understand?"

Young Harry nodded and sniffed a bit, wiping his nose with the arm of his oversized shirt. It was blue plaid and had holes in the elbows and splatters of paint over the left side and chest pocket. It reached to his knees.

"Do you know who I am?" Draco asked, unsure exactly where the question had come from.

The boy's bright eyes darted down to the floor again and he seemed to lose mass, crumble a little under the question.

With unknown compassion, Draco reached forward and grasped the boy's hands, pulling him towards Draco. At first, young Harry tried to pull away, frantic, but soon he gave up in defeat, as if resigned to whatever punishment he was to receive.

Draco hugged him, snotty shirt and all.

Young Harry clutched to him and began to cry.

In memories, time is fleeting and time is eternal. Draco continued to hug this younger, somehow stuck version of Harry until the tears ran dry and he pulled away sniffing and rubbing at his eyes.

"Better?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. "Who are you?"

"I'm Draco. I was almost your very first friend… but it didn't quite work out."

"My first friend?" Harry asked in awe, eyes lighting up with excitement. "We were almost friends?"

The joy the boy expressed at almost having a friend broke Draco's heart. "Well, we are friends now, but we didn't become friends for a long time after we met. You have tons of friends now. Many people who love you."

"People love me?" That odd echoing voice faded into silence and a curious expression showed on Harry's face. He almost looked afraid.

"Yes Harry. Many people." He reached up and petted the mat of dark hair, the curse scar showing as he brushed it aside. And then Draco offered a crooked grin and said, "I love you." Holy shite, where did that come from?

No trace of the fear Draco thought he'd seen remained on the boy's face, for he smiled such a beautiful smile it burned away everything but hope and joy and love. Draco relaxed at his unexpected declaration and briefly hugged the boy again then gently let him go.

"Okay, Harry. I need you to listen to what I have to say. This is very important." The boy nodded, eyes plastered on Draco, ready to absorb his instruction. "There is something that wants to force you to do something you don't want to."

Young Harry nodded. "I know. I struggled but I couldn't stop it." A scared frown replaced the previous smile.

"Well, I am going to help you so it won't do that again, okay?" Harry nodded again, but still looked worried.

Hmm, how was he going to do this? Draco tried to think of a way to transfer his Occlumency skills to Harry, but he really had no idea how to go about doing that. Here he met a version of Harry who came out of the formless mass of thought and memory and interacted with him. Maybe that was the trick. Perhaps if he kept a connection with kid Harry they could keep the staff at bay, at least until they could get it back to the Ministry where they must have ways to deal with these types of intelligent artefacts. He just had to think of how he was going to harness Harry's power.

"What we need to do, Harry, is build a wall. If our wall is strong enough, that bad thing can't get us. Can you help me build the wall?" Harry nodded uncertainly.

"I will show you how to form each brick, but you have most of the stone already. After I show you, I bet you can make them better and faster than I could."

"Really?" he asked, his small voice echoing into forever.

"I'm certain. Okay. Here is how we make a brick." Draco pulled his power together and forced his magic to look like a brick. He imbued it with mental shielding energy, the foundation of Occlumency. What he ended up with was a rather rough looking stone with a slight similarity to a brick. "Well, that isn't very pretty, is it?" he mused.

"I should make that?" Harry asked with young scorn. "I can make a better brick than that!"

"I don't know…" Draco said playfully. "It's pretty tough. I don't want you to push yourself too hard."

Harry harrumphed and then held out his hands facing each other about a foot apart. He closed his eyes and scrunched up his face and slowly, out of nothing, a perfect stone brick appeared. "There! Much better than your brick." He handed it over to Draco with pride.

It completely put his square, stone-like thing to shame. It overflowed with that same shielding energy with which Draco had imbued his own brick. "Well, yes. This is a lovely brick. Now make some more so we can build our wall."

With a delightful giggle, Harry presented Draco with brick after brick, strong and sturdy and filled with the right mental shielding energy. Draco began to pile them up, staggering them in a running bond pattern and with his own power, mortaring them together to form a sturdy wall. In no time they had a wall taller than Draco and about ten feet long, a solid representation of the mental barrier he helped create in Harry's mind.

With the exertion of mortaring the bricks, Draco almost lost his place in Harry's mind, but young Harry seemed tireless and he built five more bricks before Draco urged him to stop. "Woah there, kipper. I think we have enough bricks now." He presented the wall to the young Harry who eagerly clapped his hands together in glee.

"Will this be good enough, will it keep out all the bad things?"

"Well Harry, I think it will help keep out all the bad things… but just to be safe, I am going to leave something here for you… but only for a while." He collected his thoughts and dug into his pocket, pulling out a small figure of a gold dragon. "So I'm leaving this here. If you think you can't hold the wall, just grip this dragon and think real hard about me, okay?"

Harry reached out and took the small figurine. He held it with quiet reverence and nodded at Draco's words. "I'll make sure to call you if I need you. Does this mean you're leaving?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, but I have to go. You, outside of here, you need me. I need to go." He squatted down next to the small boy once again and offered a reassuring smile. "Just remember, I'm always by your side."

"Okay," Harry said, bursting out into a broad grin once again. With wide open arms, he threw himself at Draco and squeezed him with all his might. "I'm happy you're by my side, Draco," he whispered in Draco's ear, the odd echo tickling the hair on his neck.

Draco stood and waved goodbye has he retreated from Harry's mind, passing through the unformed memories and thoughts and finally finding himself in his own body once again.

"Wow. That certainly was different," he said, rubbing his face with his hands. He looked up at Harry and saw a curious expression. "What?"

"I can feel… that was odd. Very odd, Draco. What did you do?"

"Well, I met a kid version of you and we built a wall. I gave him the skill and he put in the power." He reached out to the golden dragon and could feel it inside Harry, feel a tiny hand gripping that portion of him he left behind. "If it looks like the wall will fail, I will try to help sustain it." He shrugged, unsure of exactly how to explain what he'd just done.

"A kid version of me? You didn't…" Harry uncomfortably looked down at his hands. "You didn't rifle through my childhood did you?"

"Harry, hell… I told you I wouldn't. Actually, you came out and talked to me, so it wasn't me invading, but more like you sending a welcome committee. Anyway, let's get going. See if this things works."

"I feel different," Harry said in an oddly quite voice. His gaze looked up from his hands and pierced Draco with its intensity.

Moments, like memories, are fleeting. Draco knew this. And as he stared into those vibrant green eyes, so alive and sparked with wonder, he wished he could somehow capture this remarkable moment that passed between them.

"Well, I'm still connected to you. That could be it. And it's somewhat tiring, so…" he moved his hand in a continuous circling gesture, urging them onward.

"Alright. Let's go." The moment dissipated, as Draco knew it would.

The two men retraced their steps and opened the silver gilded door into the room of bones.