What is your secret?
by Star Mirage

Disclaimer: Harry Potter & everything related to his magic world belong to J.K Rowling.
Dedication: To you, dear Unfading! Thank you very much for your corrections and suggestions. Because of them my writing becomes more readable (hopefully so).
Also my great thanks to all readers who sent their review and who put this story to their alert list!I hope you'll like this chapter too.

Part 8. Truce… probably

Water turned out to be cold. Utterly cold. Its freezing coldness instantly penetrated Harry to the very bones, leaving him breathless. The wet and heavy clothes restrained his every motion like some iron fetters. Moreover, there were no gillyweeds at hand and Harry had to rely on his own ability to hold his breath as long as possible.

Harry cursed his own laziness: after the well-known Triwizard Tournament he didn't even bother to find any spells just for the cases like this. Promising himself to correct this inadvertence after his return to the castle, Harry took a long breath and dove in.

The lake was not very deep, only several dozens of feet, however the gloomy sky that happened to be that morning gave very scanty illumination under water. Harry looked round in the murky water, and was just in time to see an enormous dark shadow slipping farther and farther away from him. Knowing that there were no other creatures of that size except for the Giant Squid in the lake, the Gryffindor shot 'Stupefy' at the disappearing figure.

Harry held his breath, praying, that he had not missed. After several very long seconds, the Squid let its trophy go. The underwater monster, acknowledging the attacking boy as a prepotent opponent, decided to retreat. Meantime, the freed Slytherin began to sink down like a stone. Obviously he was out. Either Мalfoy choked with water or he lost consciousness when the Squid hit him against the water. Although there was a possibility that Harry's spell hit the blond instead of the lake monster.

Without wasting time, Harry rushed after Мalfoy.

Blood hammered in his temples and black spots danced before his eyes. Harry understood that air was ending in his lungs, and that he needed to come to the surface and take a new deep breath. Still, Harry stubbornly rushed after his sinking enemy. 'Just a bit more…'

Finally, catching the slipping Мalfoy by a sleeve of his cloak, Harry turned round and rushed back, toward the surface. Resurfacing within a cloud of splashes, Harry tried to catch his breath. Cold air knifed his lungs; however, to Harry it seemed to be the most wonderful feeling in the world, only because he could breathe freely again.

He cast a look at the Slytherin whom he had in tow. That one still was unconscious. Panting for breath, Harry dragged the body of the blond ashore and placed him under the same tree, where Мalfoy had been sitting before. Absolutely wet from top to toe, he sat next to the blond, wondering what to do next.

The first thing that came to his mind were some pictures from a TV-show about saving drowning people that he saw the last summer when the Dursleys were visiting aunt Marge, and Harry was able to watch TV to his heart's content. Usually Dursleys forbade him even to come into the room where their TV-set was, let alone to watch it. Anyway, what he just recollected from the show was a method called 'mouth-to-mouth ventilation'...

Harry looked at Мalfoy. A picture of himself using that method on the blond flashed before his mental sight. And blushing so hard that it seemed that steam will go out his ears, Harry began to shake his head.

"No! Never! I'll never do that!"

Fortunately, his look fell upon his own magic wand lying not so far from them and Harry breathed out with relief, recalling that he was a wizard, and therefore there were another ways to bring Malfoy to his senses.

"Renervate!"

At first nothing was happening. Then Malfoy stirred, turned over to his side and began to cough. After spitting out water which he had swallowed during his recent adventure, Мalfoy slowly lifted his head up and was surprised to find a completely wet Potter sitting next to himself.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked him.

Мalfoy silently nodded. He had not recovered from the stress yet, and was extremely confused.

The blond looked around in search of his magic wand and, finding it, hastily cast a drying spell on himself. In a second, his clothes became dry, as well as his shoes and hair. Although, dry from top to toe, he still was chattering from cold.

Harry followed the Slytherin's example and also dried himself with the same spell.

Several minutes both young wizards sat in silence, which Malfoy broke as soon as he completely came to his senses.

"Don't you dare to tell about this to anyone, Potter," he hissed in a low voice.

"Sure!" agreed Harry pretty quickly. "Because my friends will kill me if they learn that I've saved you instead of letting you to drown yourself."

The blond shot him an angry look, but said nothing. Then, to Harry's surprise, Malfoy blushed and whispered: "Mm… thank you, Potter… for saving me."

Shocked, Harry could just utter: "Huh?"

The Slytherin become even redder. "Oh, shut up, Potter! As if I'll ever repeat myself!" he exclaimed angrily, then got up and made his way toward the castle.

Harry, still astonished that Malfoy actually thanked him, followed the blond with his eyes till the slender figure disappeared from his view. Only then Harry woke up from his stupor. He smiled, picked up his magazine and also went to the castle.

xOxOx

Lucius Malfoy was writing a letter to his sole heir.

"My dear son,

I hope you are sound and kicking..."

Lucius made a wry face and hastily erased the last line with his magic feather.

Lately, much to Lucius' own annoyance, such un-aristocratic expressions began to appear in his speech. Surely his was influenced by Dark Lord, who in spite of his hatred toward muggles, used their plebeian colloquialism pretty often.

Over the last months the said Dark Lord was staying in Malfoy Manor, obviously behaving as if he owned the place. He went wherever he wanted, poking his almost-non-existent-nose to everything that happened in the manor, and did everything his dark nature wanted. He even terrorized the Malfoy's house-elves more than that had been done by all Мalfoys together for the last decade... And what he did to those poor peacocks that Lucius liked so much...!

Anyway, because of the continuous presence of this 'Great and Mighty Dark Wizard', Lucius' aristocratic nature was under permanent stress. Naturally, he didn't show his dissatisfaction with his boss' actions; neither with a word nor gesture. Everyone knew that an open criticism in the Dark Lord's address was fraught with serious consequences that were incompatible with life. Still, to his own great displeasure, Lucius managed to pick up those idiotic muggle's expressions from his Dark Lord.

Lucius Malfoy sighed and returned to the letter he was writing.

Looking at the almost blank parchment, he recalled what induced him to do that.

The reason was very simple: the 'Great and Mighty' just became bored with all those faces that were surrounded him. His exact words were:

"I want to see yet another pretty face among my most loyal supporters, except of yours, my dear Lucius. I hate to see those ugly mugs of Avery, Crabbe and Goyle. So, be so kind to bring your son so that he could serve me as zealously as you do."

That summer Dark Lord met the Lucius' son for the first time. Maturing, the Malfoy-junior became quite handsome. And that was not a surprise: with Lucius and Narcissa as his parents, their son could not be just ordinary looking.

That day, bumping into the Malfoy heir in one of the manor's hallways, Dark Lord stopped in front of Draco and lifted the boy's face with one of his skinny pale hands.

"You are very beautiful, boy," he said to the stunned youth.

Lucius saw that Draco's eyes became wide, but still, his son just slightly bowed and answered, "Thank you, my Lord."

Malfoy senior smiled with pride – his son did not disgrace his family name even after being called 'beautiful'. In Lucius' opinion only women could be called 'beautiful'. Men, and the Malfoy menfolk particularly, were 'handsome'…

Dark Lord nodded and resumed his walking along the corridor.

Lucius forgot about that small event, but yesterday, two months after the said meeting, Dark Lord announced to Lucius:

"I want your son to take the mark this Halloween. So, would you be so kind as to bring him here by the said time."

Malfoy-senior frowned, staring at the letter to his son. As a matter of fact, Lucius didn't want for Draco to be marked. With hot-tempered and unreasonable boss, like Dark Lord, any mistake could result in harsh punishment, down to the famous 'Avada Kedavra'. Lucius hoped that Malfoy name would go on in prosperity, even after Dark Lord's existence vanished from people's memory. And Draco was the vital element for those plans. But, for the time being, Lucius could not go against his boss' will. He would do as the Dark Lord said. Still, that didn't mean that the famous intriguer – Lucius Malfoy – would give up so easily. He would think something out as to how to save his son.

Sighing, Malfoy-senior reverted to the parchment.

xOxOx

After returning to the castle, Harry found his best friends in Gryffindor Common Room. Ron sprawled about on their favorite sofa beside the fireplace, while Hermione with a book in her hands was sitting cross-legged and leaning against the redhead. To all appearances, their morning plans, namely 'library' and 'letter to the relatives', were fulfilled, and so, waiting for lunch, the pair was spending their time in the Common Room.

Harry looked around and, with a slight displeasure, decided that in such crowded place he also would not be able to read his trophy magazine. He could not stay at the lake and read it there, because it became pretty windy outside. Meanwhile curiosity was eating him alive. While Harry pondered when it would be better to go to the Secret Room - now or after lunch, his redhead best friend yawned and said:

"You are so lucky to have 'that special room' of yours, mate."

Harry raised his eyebrows, surprised that Ron's words mirrored his own thoughts. Meanwhile Ron continued.

"I'm so envious! To have a place where you can do whatever you want and nobody would disturb you… That's fantastic! If only I had a room like that…" The redhead sighed, and then dreamily added. "Well… If I had a room like that, Hermione and me would think something out as for what to do there. Wouldn't we, Hermi?"

Judging by how fast Ron turned red after the words, his thoughts probably were about something indecent.

"Ron, you are a pervert!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, giving him a smack on his head. However, Harry noted to himself, judging from telltale blush that colored her face and her shining eyes, Hermione entirely shared her boyfriend's fantasies.

Harry signed and rolled his eyes. 'Oh. Merlin!' He really didn't want to know what his best friends could do if they had a place like his 'Secret Room'.

xOxOx

"My dear son,

In view of the approaching holiday of Halloween, your mother and I would like to see you at Malfoy Manor. Please make sure to come alone, dressed in a suit that your mother will send you next week…"

Draco frowned. He easily captured the true meaning of his father's words hidden behind the polite orders. And that troubled the boy ever more.

From his father's letter, Draco understood that for Halloween he ought to arrive to the Manor and present himself before their dark and mighty guest. What for? Draco had only one supposition. However, to mar up his perfect skin with the ugly mark wasn't on the Slytherin's want-to-do list.

Contrary to popular belief about Malfoys' dedicated loyalty to the Dark Lord's cause, Draco felt no desire to take that part of the family business and join the ranks of Death Eaters. Dark Lord's cruelty toward his own supporters didn't contribute to the popularization of that group.

Besides, Draco, like most Slytherins, was not brave. Therefore, he considered caution the main survival tactics. In the current war he intended to wait aside till the conflict between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore's supporters was over, and then to join the winner.

However, the letter of his father left him no choice...

Draco could not help remembering his dreams of the Labyrinth. There also was the same sense of hopelessness. The same threat coming from the Dark Lord... and - Draco smirked - salvation brought by Potter.

'It would be nice', he thought, 'if Potter could find a way out for me not only in a dream, but in this situation too. Another thing is that he will not help me.'

That moment, the pictures of the recent incident near the lake flashed in Draco's memory, when Potter saved him ever regardless their mutual animosity. However, Draco's sighed doomily and corrected his previous statement:

"And yet, it is unlikely that he will want to help me."

xOxOx

Harry closed the magazine and looked at its cover. He could not but praise the work of a professional photographer, who took this photo of Malfoy.

The photographer effectively emphasized every notable feature of the youngster: his slender figure, honed by frequent Quiddich practices, his clear pale skin (the one that any girl would die for), his soft looking white-blond hair (to groom which Malfoy must have been spending more than one hour everyday)… Aristocratic, handsome, arrogant - but, at the same time, naughty and seductive.

Absolutely different from that wet and scared boy, whom Harry dragged out of the lake.

"Interesting," he muttered, staring at the dancing flame in the fireplace.

A sound of light steps broke his reverie. Harry glanced back and smiled: the familiar blond phantom was approaching the fireplace. The phantom smiled in return and graciously sat on another armchair.

TBC.

AN: Thank you for reading. As you can see the scene is prepared for something more romantic. :) And I promise, you'll see that in the next chapter. Review, please!

© Star Mirage