Dumbledore paced his study, his brow deeply furrowed. The minister's owl hooted from his desk. Other than shooting it a dirty glare, Dumbledore ignored it. How the prime minister had gotten wind of the night's events was beyond him, but at least he seemed to know nothing more than the forbidden forest had caught light.

It was imperative that he let no one know that Lord Voldemort, guised as Bellatrix, had somehow managed to infiltrate the grounds. There was no doubt that he, she, had made it well into the wards, as the fire was started right in the very heart of the forest.

Had she had inside help? Or was he missing something on the wards? No, Dumbledore dismissed that at once, he had been meticulous with the wards. She wouldn't have just been able to walk in, he was sure of it.

So whom? The Malfoy child was gone, but perhaps he had managed to leave a hole in the wards when he'd been trying to break through them before. Snape was out of the question, that man was well and truly in his back pocket. It was a possibility, although unlikely, that one of the other Slytherins had started working for the Dark Lord. And then there was always the chance someone had been imperio'd.

He would have to remain vigilant. Trust no one.

In the meantime he must reply to the minister. He would tell him that some of Hagrid's blast-ended skrewts had gotten out of control and the population was now being dealt with. He'd also request it was kept out of the papers. That ought to placate the blithering idiot.

He could meet with the centaurs tomorrow, ensure that they don't tell any students. There were no other beasts in the forest capable of speech, so he had no other witnesses to deal with. Rubeus would believe whatever he told him, he would be sad to see the skrewts gone but good riddance in all honesty.

The only person left other than himself was Snape. That was fine. After all, who would Snape tell? The Dark Lord was well aware of what had happened as was he.

.

.

The smoke had subsided but not entirely stopped by the time the Gryffindors got up the next morning. There were many yells of surprise as people opened their curtains. Before long most of the Gryffindors were gathered in the common room, exchanging wild and wilder theories on what had happened.

Hermione stood alone in the corner, eyes anxiously scanning the room. She had gone to bed after her chat with Viktor in the middle of the night and was yet to see Harry since his detention with Snape the night before.

Usually she wouldn't have been so worried, but the forest fire had put her on edge. That and the fact it was Snape. He was about as unpredictable as they came.

She had for the most part ignored all the speculation flying around the room, until Neville came and stood next to her. Hermione barely noticed.

"If you're looking for Harry then you're looking in the wrong place." It took Hermione a moment to process what Neville had just said.

"What? Do you know where he is?" Neville half shrugged.

"He came in at about three in the morning, and woke up with a nightmare at five. I asked him if there was anything I could do, but he just shook his head and said he was going to the kitchens for coffee. Lots of coffee. He hasn't been back up to the dorm since." The words were barely out of Neville's mouth before Hermione was on the move. She pushed her way through the crowd and out of the portrait hole.

She took the stairs two at a time, barely noticing Neville's footsteps echoing along behind her. Hoping that Harry was still in the kitchens, or that Dobby might be able to give her more directions, she jogged straight passed the main hall. At the picture of the fruit she paused only to tickle the pear. An out of breath Neville arrived as the door swung open.

Several of the elves looked over at them as they opened the door but most of them seemed so busy preparing breakfast that they went unnoticed. She scanned the room quickly. Harry was sat with Dobby on a small stall in the far corner. He was smiling meekly, but didn't seem any worse for wear. A little tired, perhaps.

Hermione cautiously made her way across the kitchen, trying not to get in anybody's way. It took Harry a while to notice her, and she couldn't help notice he didn't exactly look overjoyed.

"Harry what happened? Are you alright?" Harry nodded, then spotted Neville.

"Hey. Look I could do with talking to you. Both of you." Harry added when Neville looked surprised. "Thanks for the food and coffee Dobby."

"You is most welcome Harry Potter Sir! Please come and visits Dobby again, Sir!" The little house elf squeaked back. Harry smiled affectionately at Dobby before gesturing towards the door. Hermione and Neville followed him out.

Back out in the corridor, Harry walked deeper into the dungeons, away from the sounds of breakfast. He walked with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slightly slouched. Hermione opened her mouth to tell him not to slouch but then shut it before the words could escape.

Harry at least seemed to know where he was going. Neither Neville nor Hermione had ever ventured this close to Slytherin territory before. After a couple more turns, into corridors that were progressively dimly light, Harry stopped at a door. He let himself in then held the door for the others.

"Lumos." The light from Harry's wand illuminated a dusty classroom with all the furniture pushed to one side and rude words scribbled over the walls by peeves.

"I take it you saw the ashes this morning?" Both nodded but didn't speak, waiting to hear what Harry had to say. "I was out there last night. I was coming back from Snape's detention and I could hear it." Harry was speaking in a monotone, as though he was trying to distance himself from whatever had happened. "I went outside and saw the fire. It triggered a panic attack or something, reminding me of the room of requirement."

Hermione glanced at Neville. As far as she knew, Neville knew nothing about what had been going on. He kept quiet either way, so she turned her attention back to Harry.

"A centaur called Orion came up to the castle. Dumbledore had sent him to get Snape. He basically told me that Voldemort, as Bellatrix, had infiltrated the grounds. He'd set fire to the forest and then vanished in the smoke." Hermione was stunned. After a moment trying to process this latest development she spoke up.

"But Harry, why would you-know-who get into the grounds only to leave without doing much damage." Harry's eyes seemed far away as he replied.

"I've been thinking about that all morning. I think it is because his horcrux is in another human, he is taking on Bellatrix's traits. After all, Bellatrix loved nothing more than to play with her victims before she kills them. It's a game. She is trying to scare us."

"It's working." Hermione shuddered. She had to admit there must be some holes in the wards. Now she thought about it, Viktor shouldn't really have been able to floo to the common room, what was stopping him coming through fully?

"Harry, I think you might have to catch me up a little. Bellatrix Lestrange is now also you-know-who?"

"I think it is even worse than that Neville. We might as well start from the beginning."

.

.

Draco decided he would write a letter to Harry. He knew he had no real way to send it, but it seemed a little more purposeful than writing a diary. There was so much swirling round in his head that he felt it might burst if he didn't let it out somehow.

So with a freshly brewed mug of tea and a stack of parchment, Draco made his way up to his new favourite place. The second floor landing, with its big chair and large window, had provided Draco with somewhere light and airy compared to the rest of the building. He had taken to carrying books up from the library and spending all day there.

Harry. How are things going at Hogwarts? It's quiet here without you, there isn't much to do.

Draco stopped, frowned for a moment, then scrunched up the parchment. Even if no one was going to read it, Draco didn't want to sound like some whining teenage girl. He threw the parchment over his shoulder and started again.

Potter. It would be nice to know what was actually going on half the time. I'm sure you could find some miracle way to get in contact with me. After all, you're the king of miracles.

Again Draco paused. That didn't feel right either. It made him sound ungrateful, and he wasn't really. He knew his situation sucked, but he also knew that without Harry's help he would have been nose deep in dragon shit or dead.

He'd never been very good with words. Not writing them down at any rate, it left too much to second guess the whole time. With all the time in the world to process them, someone could easily read something completely different into his words. He wished he could just speak to Harry, like he had back in the tower room.

I shouldn't miss the dark tower but I do. It's not the cold or the wind, it is the company. Here I only have a half crazed elf, but even that's not the problem really. I could have all the pleasurable company in the world here with me and I'd still be lonely without you.

I've been getting strange dreams. The good ones I don't want to end. The bad ones I wish I could erase from my memory with magic, as waking fails to do so. You know, it is surprising I don't miss that more. Magic I mean. It must have been three weeks now, two in the tower and one here.

It's frustrating not to be able to use lumos, or unlock any of the many locked doors in this house. And the night I came here I definitely wished I had my wand back. But other than that? What could I really use it for?

Things have improved over the last couple of days. Kreacher is finally acknowledging me, more or less. He cooked a casserole thing for me after the tapestry incident.

I forget you don't know everything sometimes. I was burnt off the tapestry. Say goodbye to Draco Malfoy, now I am Draco nobody. I wonder if mother tried to stop him disowning me. I doubt it, but I'd like to think so. I wonder how she is. She was never cut out to be the wife of a Deatheater, or host to the dark lord.

She should have married a nice pureblood man, had nice pureblood children, and grown old in her nice pureblood house. Well at least she got the house, even if her husband was a slave and her only child a disgrace.

Sometimes this house scares me. The rooms have all been emptied in a hurry and its dark even at noon. The corridors seem to swallow noise in the day and then bounce them back in the middle of the night.

But I'll survive. Don't forget your promise to me Harry. You better see me soon.

Draco read the letter back. It wasn't everything, but it was a start. As he stared at the last line he couldn't help but think of the age old question. How soon was soon?

He spent a few more hours up there, gazing out over the muggle park and reading a book about the evolution of goblin society. It wasn't nearly as dry as it had originally sounded – at one point four goblins had all claimed to be the rightful leader and so entered the pit. The last goblin alive was to take the thrown, but all of them died from injuries without making it out. It left a huge power vacuum which ended only when a peasant goblin had placed the crown on her head and they'd all believed her.

With food now appearing more regularly, Draco found he was getting an appetite for meals again, so as the sun stained the sky pink, he got up. He stretched out his back and headed downstairs, leaving the book and letters where they were.

He could smell something delicious before he'd even opened the door. A big pot sat in the middle of the table, steaming away. As usual, Kreacher was nowhere to be seen. Draco sat down and ladled two big spoonfuls of chicken soup into the waiting bowl.

He savoured every mouthful then went back for more. Once he had finally finished, Draco put his bowl in the sink to soak and left another message like the first.

Delicious. Thank you.

He had found that each time he left a note, the quality of food became that little bit better. It seemed that somewhere along the line the house elf had developed a taste for gratitude, and if that was what Draco had to do to get food, he was more than willing to play along.

.

.

Not long after Harry had gone to bed he heard a crack outside the door. He was half asleep and wrote it off as some first year tripping over until the door opened. His sleep fuddled brain told him it was probably Neville unable to sleep again. The bed dipped.

Groggily, Harry opened his eyes and nearly fell out of bed with shock. An ugly house elf was nose to nose with him.

"Kreacher! What the hell are you doing here?" As Harry's brain started working a little quicker he felt his stomach drop. "Is it Draco? Is he alright?!"

"Mr Malfoy is alright." Sneered the house elf. Harry was reminded very suddenly of why he'd been so reluctant to take Kreacher on in the first place. "Mr Malfoy was writing master letters. Kreacher is delivering them." Out of his dirty cloth, Kreacher pulled three pieces of paper. Two were tightly crumpled into balls, the third folded in half.

Harry recognised Draco's elegant writing at once. He grabbed the letters and scanned the longest one.

"Kreacher, wait in the bathroom there. I'll be two minutes while I write a reply then you can take it back to him." Kreacher scowled, but climbed off the bed and crossed the room. Harry didn't want any of the other boys waking and seeing Kreacher, especially Ron, who would recognise him at once.

He read the letter again. His heart ached in his chest as he yearned to see Draco. He noticed that the letter was neither addressed nor signed. The barely started crumpled letters, Harry was unsure he should have received at all.

Draco,

Thank you for your letters. I don't know why I never thought of this sooner. I've been longing to talk to you too. Things have been quite eventful here.

I am sorry to hear about the tapestry. You know I didn't like them, but they were family and that's hard to come by.

The house was the headquarters of the order. When Sirius died and the house passed to me they were unsure if it really would follow Sirius' wishes as I'm not a Black. We didn't know if the protections had all broken. By the time we'd ensured the house was in fact mine and I was the sole secret keeper they'd set up elsewhere.

Snape has found out where you are. He recognised it as the old HQ, but the fiddalius must be holding because I don't think he actually knows where it is anymore. He's being using legilimens on me, being a right bastard about it too. Merlin only knows who he really fights for. I think he is trying to make me learn occlumency again, but he just keeps pissing me off.

A few nights ago there was a fire in the forbidden forest. The centaurs told me it was Bellatrix. No one was hurt but it feels like they weren't meant to be, like she is playing with us.

I don't think I could stay here much longer even if I wanted to, which I don't. Things are changing at Hogwarts. Dumbledore is getting more and more distant from the school; Bellatrix managed to breach the grounds and he is claiming it was blast ended skrewts.

Soon its going to be time to leave. Then we can go hunting.

I promise to keep my promise. I want nothing more than to be with you soon.

At the bottom of his hastily scrawled letter Harry stopped. He was about to sign it love Harry but wasn't sure how Draco would react to that. After all, they had only shared a few passionate kisses in their short time together, would he think Harry was being too forward, or brash?

He had said it the last time he'd seen Draco, his heart lost in the moment of parting, but he didn't think Draco had actually heard. Harry sighed, then signed his name only.

It would be better anyway to see Draco's reaction first hand when he said it. He wanted to know for certain he was not the only one.

Harry folded the letter in quarters then went to the bathroom. The elf was sat on the toilet seat, swinging his legs. When Harry entered he held out his hand expectantly. He looked bored. Harry handed it over and with a pop, the elf was gone.

Harry climbed back into his still warm bed but couldn't sleep. He'd never really stopped to consider when he'd fallen in love with Draco, it had seemed so natural he'd never questioned it. How funny, that they should go from enemies to friends without even realising.

Was it when he'd gone to visit Draco in the hospital wing after the quidditch match and Draco had told him about all their memories? Or was it before then, and Harry had been forced to forget? Maybe he'd already told Draco then. Maybe he'd fallen in love during his nightly visits to the tower, or when he had rushed through the castle to save Draco when his name had flickered from the map?

Perhaps it was earlier even than that. After all, Harry had been watching Draco closely for the past year, and he'd never been very good at recognising feelings. Was that what had compelled him to help Draco the day he'd found him cut up in the bathroom?

Harry didn't know. He wasn't sure he ever really would. How do you pinpoint the exact moment you fall in love with someone?

A/N: Eh, its almost on time. Have a longer chapter to make up for it! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, it's nice to hear what you think!

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