Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter
Genres:
Romance Angst
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 07/04/2002
Updated: 08/24/2002
Words: 138,117
Chapters: 18
Hits: 119,499

Unthinkable Thoughts

Aidan Lynch

Story Summary:
When Harry and Draco first met in Madam Malkin's robe shop, neither ``of them could have anticipated how much loathing and mistrust would follow. But ``one day in their fifth year something happens which forces Harry and Draco to ``reconsider exactly what such abhorrence is founded on. Little by little, each ``of them is overwhelmed by Unthinkable Thoughts, and they begin the voyage that ``takes them from their safe harbours of deep suspicion well out into uncharted ``waters. And the more they discover, the more the realise that things can never ``be the same again!

Chapter 14

Chapter Summary:
When Harry and Draco first met in Madam Malkin’s robe shop, neither of them could have anticipated how much loathing and mistrust would follow. But one day in their fifth year something happens which forces Harry and Draco to reconsider exactly what such abhorrence is founded on. Little by little, each of them is overwhelmed by Unthinkable Thoughts, and they begin the voyage that takes them from their safe harbours of deep suspicion well out into uncharted waters. And the more they discover, the more they realise that things can never be the same again.
Posted:
07/20/2002
Hits:
4,379
Author's Note:
Unthinkable Thoughts is my first and only real fic written in any style. (Funny how HP in general and Draco in particular was the first thing in my life to inspire me to put pen to paper!) It is currently 16 chapters long and a further final two are also nearly complete, so although it's WIP it's also Work Nearly Finished. Over the eight months of writing of this fic, four wonderful women have been crucially involved in its beta-reading: Liz, Morphia, Plumeria and Penguin, and I must thank them all here and now for being so fantastically supportive.


CHAPTER FOURTEEN

~

DANCE OF THE SEVEN CHARMS

Beginning at not long after 7:00am that morning, Dumbledore opened his earliest ever meeting. It was surely the also the oddest collection of Hogwarts folk that had gathered in his office for some time. The usual suspects, Snape, Sirius and McGonagall, all tried to varying degrees to hide that they were tired, but none of them could quite hide their slight surprise at the two newcomers.

'Good morning all,' twinkled Dumbledore with his usual bonhomie. 'Tea all round, is it?'

Without waiting for an answer, his wand whipped in its customary fashion and a tray totally overloaded with several pots of tea and a couple of plates of delicious breakfast things appeared in mid-air, and then, as Dumbledore looked in vain round the room for somewhere to set it down, he conjured a small table as well.

Show off, thought McGonagall affectionately.

The serving of tea was never a straight-forward affair at these meetings. Snape would rather have dispensed with it altogether and got down to business straight away, but Dumbledore was usually - as this morning - insistent on it.

'Now,' he beamed, with the look of a mother hen feeding her chicks, 'Minerva. Earl Grey, yes?'

She nodded, and smiled as she realised that one of the pots contained her favourite brew. Dumbledore made a great performance of pouring her a cup, and she was not the only one to notice that, although nobody beat Dumbledore at effortless conjuring, of those present he was perhaps the least able at pouring tea without drips.

'Sirius. What will it be this morning?'

Sirius smiled. Was this some kind of game? He looked at the tray: there were four pots, of which one obviously contained Earl Grey. Has Dumbledore anticipated the type of tea we would all prefer? But - there are more than four of us here. He regarded Dumbledore closely, then said, 'English Breakfast, please, Albus.'

'Oh good choice, Sirius, one of my favourites,' smiled the Headmaster, and poured a cup from one of the other pots.

Two-nil to Dumbledore, thought McGonagall idly, sipping her Earl Grey, which had obviously been brewed for the perfect four minutes, and not just the 30 seconds since Dumbledore had produced the tray. She wondered briefly how he had done it. Must be Magic! she smiled to herself.

'Now,' continued Dumbledore. 'We are one missing, I wonder, where is...?'

At that moment Madam Pomfrey entered and was surprised to see a bizarre tea ceremony taking place, with Dumbledore kneeling next to a curious three-legged table with serpents for legs. Good Lord, she thought. He's losing it. I know we all say he's eccentric, but...

'What's your brew this morning, Poppy?' The brightness in the Headmaster's voice was quite at odds with the hour.

All the eyes in the room turned to Madam Pomfrey, as if she had just been asked a question of far higher importance than her choice of tea blend.

'Errr...' she said, looking round the room rather nervously, 'Earl Grey I think, Headmaster.'

There was a definite shift in the room. Had she said the wrong thing?

McGonagall and Sirius caught each other's eyes.

Once Madam Pomfrey was settled down with her tea, Dumbledore turned his attention to Hagrid. 'And you, Hagrid?' he asked politely.

Hagrid looked delighted at being offered tea by the Greatest Headmaster of Hogwarts Ever, and answered, 'Well, sir, if it's alrigh' wi' you, sir, ah've allus bin a bit partial to a cup o' Darjeeling meself'.

Snape snorted. 'When have you ever developed a taste for Darjeeling?' he barked, but nobody paid any attention as Dumbledore serenely poured Hagrid a cup from the third pot.

'Oh I do like Darjeeling,' said Dumbledore to nobody in particular and poured himself a cup as well.

Three-nil to Dumbledore, pondered McGonagall.

Then he turned to the second newcomer.

'And what would you like?' he beamed.

Dobby could not take it any longer, and threw himself at the Headmaster's feet. He'd been uncomfortable being given a real chair to sit on in the first place, but to be offered tea as well was too much.

'No! Sir! The great Dumbly cannot serve Dobby tea! It's Dobby's job to serve the tea! Dobby cannot accept tea from the great Dumble, sir, no!'

Snape rolled his eyes in exasperation. How long was this meeting going to last?

Dobby was jumping around in some agitation. 'Dobby is perfectly happy to drink the tea that drips into the Great Dumbly's saucer, sir!' he squealed.

'Really?' Dumbledore looked mildly amused at this, and protested a little, but Dobby could not be pressed into tea of any kind and all eyes in the room turned to Snape.

Snape eyed the fourth pot.

There was a strange air of expectancy in the room. Sirius couldn't suppress a smile.

After what seemed like an age, Snape cleared his throat.

'Er...I think I would like, if possible, Headmaster, a cup of Lapsang Souchong.'

McGonagall and Sirius gasped, as if Snape had just bowled an ungentlemanly ball.

Dumbledore, however, with a sort of distant smile, simply said, 'of course, Severus,' and lifted the fourth pot.

Four-nil to Dumbledore, thought McGonagall with huge enjoyment.

'Actually, no, sorry, I've changed my mind, I'd rather have coffee,' blustered Snape, realising his ball had been knocked for six.

'Of course, Severus,' smiled Dumbledore, without altering the pot he was holding, and suddenly the room was awash with the aroma of deep-roasted coffee beans as a rich, dark liquid flowed smoothly from the spout of the fourth pot.

Game, set and match Dumbledore, thought McGonagall, or at least she would have done had she ever heard of tennis.

The whole room laughed softly, even Snape.

'Very impressive,' said Sirius warmly to the Headmaster.

'Oh, it's nothing really,' muttered Dumbledore, eyes still glinting.

'Er, are we ever going to get down to business?' asked Madam Pomfrey rather curtly.

'Yes, Poppy, indeed. There are two items on today's agenda, both of which I consider to be important enough to meet at this antisocial hour on a Sunday,' began Dumbledore.

The mood changed instantly.

'First, how are our two patients?'

'On the mend, I should say,' said Madam Pomfrey. 'They were having a party when I went in this morning.'

'A party?' choked Snape.

'Well, Granger and Weasley had turned up for breakfast. But there was certainly a lot of laughter.'

A look of vague understanding passed over Hagrid's face, but only Dumbledore noticed.

'I am sure I said that they couldn't visit until this evening,' mused McGonagall.

'Then they should be punished,' said Snape. 'I suggest--'

'Oh Heavens, no' interrupted Dumbledore. 'There will be no need for that. I am amazed Weasley has stayed away this long, to be honest. I think we can take laughter as an indication that they are indeed feeling stronger, rather than as a cause for punishment. It's a good sign. It is certainly enough of a sign for us to move on.'

'What do you mean, Albus?' asked McGonagall.

'The two of them are obviously feeling happier about their situation, and we cannot afford to wait. Even if they are still sleeping and eating erratically, we must hope that those things will mend in time. The latest owl from Fudge is distressing. We all know Harry may yet have a role to play, so it's vital that we begin to assess exactly how their magic is bonding and evaluate any increase in ability. Whatever we discover will almost certainly mean tailoring their immediate education to new needs, and we must begin today. Severus...'

'Yes, Headmaster?' preened Snape, openly delighted that Dumbledore had turned to him first.

'You will take Harry and Draco this afternoon to your classroom and see if there has been any alteration in their ability at Potions. You will find that Harry has the means to get the two of them through the school unnoticed. Take them through something complex and then report back to me. Minerva...'

'Yes, Albus?'

'We will deal with Charms together later this afternoon and then you will test them on some Transfiguration this evening. Anything unusual or untoward we will all need to hear about. Then Sirius, tomorrow, please take them through some curses and hexes, and defence against the same. Steer clear of the Unforgivable Curses...for the time being at least.'

The room had the feel of a secret mission being planned and it was rather exciting despite the exceedingly early hour.

'I myself will take them for some...special conjuring,' stated Dumbledore clearly.

McGonagall was suddenly hit with the curious image of Harry temporarily flummoxing Voldemort by producing a tray of tea things at the height of battle, and then cursed herself for being frivolous.

'Also, Severus, some Arithmancy. I know it seems peripheral but I want to know the full picture, and I don't want to expand the group of staff involved beyond what is absolutely necessary, although...yes, I suppose also...yes, we really must...Minerva, please take them up to Sybill Trelawney tomorrow night and see if you can determine if there is any clairvoyance yet present in either of the pair.'

McGonagall, Snape, Sirius and Hagrid all rolled their eyes.

'Yes, yes,' countered Dumbledore, 'I know what you all think. But we can't take any chances. There's probably no need for Sybill to know precisely why we are conducting this survey,' he added, smiling. 'I think it would be a good thing not to inflame her rather acute sense of drama.'

All present, even those not fully in the picture, smiled.

'And finally,' stated Dumbledore, 'we must teach them how to Apparate. I know they are underage but I don't think we can justify denying them this defence. We will begin immediately. Tonight, Minerva, Severus, Sirius, you will join myself and Harry and Draco in the village for a preliminary session. Any questions?'

All seemed clear with their tasks, and then Dumbledore altered his approach slightly.

'Good. Now, we come to the second item for discussion. Sirius, would you...?'

Sirius cleared his throat.

'There is a book,' he began. 'Draco spoke to me about a book he recalls his father showing him when he was younger. It seems to contain memories of what he called 'a magical baby boy'. Draco himself has no idea of the potential importance of this book but the Headmaster and I think that it is possible that it is a scrap-book given to James and Lily Potter as a wedding present. If that is true it may be that Lucius Malfoy has a use for it in mind. It is difficult to explain his possessing it at all otherwise.'

'It was just an ordinary book,' supplied Dumbledore. 'Enhanced by a...erm, special charm of my own. The idea was that you just left it open on a new page and all the thoughts and words and events were captured in the paper.'

'It was your own present to them?' McGonagall looked worried.

'Yes. And Sirius recalls that it was actually used on several occasions.'

'Harry's Christening for one,' added Sirius. 'And I think a game of Quidditch, and maybe a picnic too.'

'How on earth did Lucius Malfoy come to be in possession of it?' asked McGonagall, sounding distressed.

'That's the crucial point,' said Sirius. 'We think...that on the night of James and Lily's deaths, Lucius may have been present at Godric's Hollow. It would be utterly typical of him to pick up something that could be used in the future rather than go mad with grief like the other Death Eaters.'

'Even so,' began Snape. 'It's difficult to see how the magic in the book could be used against Potter. If it works like a Pensieve, even destroying the book would not affect Potter in any way. But...'

'Yes,' finished Dumbledore. 'My thoughts exactly. It would need some powerful Dark Magic to turn the book to advantage. But if anyone is capable of it, Lucius Malfoy is. And I don't see Lucius being sentimental enough to pick up a pointless trophy at such a moment. So I have decided that we must try to recover it.'

There was silence.

'Where is it?' asked McGonagall eventually.

'In the library at Malfoy Manor,' Dumbledore replied evenly.

'Or rather...' added Sirius, 'if it's the same book, that's where it was when Draco was eight or nine years old.'

'But...the Manor is known to be protected by some highly complex magical defences... Nobody just walks into the library and helps themselves, surely?' pondered McGonagall.

The size of the task seemed to dawn on them all at the same time. As did the reason for Dobby's presence.

Dobby looked terrified, but Dumbledore turned to him gently.

'Dobby...' he started.

Dobby's mouth was opening and closing noiselessly and he was wringing his hands, wide-eyed.

'Dobby, you know the Manor better than anyone. Nobody here has ever been there at all, let alone in the library.'

A look of distinct unease passed over Snape's face, but only Dumbledore noticed.

'N-No!' stuttered Dobby. 'Dobby can't! Please don't ask Dobby to go back to the Manor!'

'Don't you want to help Harry, Dobby? Hasn't he always been good to you?'

'Oh yes! Harry Potter has always been excellent to Dobby! He has given him socks, and even a jumper!'

'So, if Harry was in danger, wouldn't you want to help him?'

'Oh yes! Harry Potter helped Dobby become free! But...but...'

'Dobby, surely you have the best knowledge of the Manor than anyone! You must know all the secret ways in and out, and how to avoid the defences! You would be marvellous at this special mission!'

Dobby preened himself slightly but was still far from convinced.

'And think of what you would be doing! Helping Harry out of great danger! What do you think Dobby? Thirty minutes, you reckon? Maybe just twenty? In, out, nobody knowing anything? I am sure you could do it...'

'W-well...'

'And with Hagrid to make sure you get there and back in one piece, very quickly? Does it sound so dangerous now?'

'W-well...'

'Do you know a way in and out, Dobby, a secret way for a secret mission? Think you could slip in and out without being seen?'

'W-well...'

'And when you get back, I'm not sure, but I think there could be a pay rise! I'll have to look in the Hogwarts Charter, but I am sure there is something about special pay for special missions...'

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. She had never heard of the Hogwarts Charter.

'Really...?'

'Oh yes! And I think socks too. And a new jumper. The Charter definitely says something about a jumper. Doesn't it, Minerva?'

'I believe it does,' smiled McGonagall warmly.

'But Dobby is scared!' squirmed Dobby. 'Lucius Malfoy is a very bad man...'

'So who better to go take on this task than our own brave Dobby?'

'But...'

'Oh stop yer yammering, elf,' said Hagrid gruffly. 'Dumbledore's got a job for yeh, to help Harry out o' trouble. There's no point arguin'.'

'Dobby will do it!' cried Dobby. 'Dobby will help brave Harry Potter, of course he will! It is always Dobby's aim to serve the great Dumbly!'

'Good good,' said Dumbledore warmly. 'I said to my colleagues that I knew you would brave enough for this secret mission.'

There were murmurs of assent from around the room, although the Headmaster had said no such thing. McGonagall found herself admiring the way he had dealt with Dobby, knowing that she herself would have lost patience some time earlier.

Dobby looked like he was about to burst with pride.

'Now,' continued Dumbledore. 'What do you think, Dobby, dead of night? It would be easier to get in and out at night, wouldn't it?'

'Oh yes,' said Dobby, delighted at being consulted.

'That's what I thought,' mused Dumbledore. 'When you get in there, you'll need to be quick. Look for a blue book. It will look identical to this one.'

He whipped his wand and a slim book, dark blue, about two hands across and about half an inch thick appeared in his hand.

'Now, let me see,' pondered the Headmaster. 'Oh yes...'

He used his wand again and some words emblazoned themselves into the leather cover.

For James and Lily, on this Happiest of Days, from Albus Dumbledore

'When you find it, put this one in its place and then get out as quickly as you can. Hagrid, you still have the motorbike I understand? Take it and get Dobby as close to the house as you safely can, and some kind of silencing charm might be in order for the bike. Make sure you choose somewhere Dobby can find you quickly when he gets out of the Manor.'

Hagrid shifted uncomfortably. He looked at Sirius.

Dumbledore was suddenly aware of a sense of unease in the room. McGonagall wondered if Sirius and Hagrid had exchanged any words at all since the night of James and Lily's deaths.

'Hagrid,' began Dumbledore. 'Sirius has risked many personal dangers to be here. He is here at my invitation and has my complete trust, as you do. There is no shame in owning up to still being in possession of his motorbike. I am sure he will be glad to see it used on this mission.'

Hagrid looked slightly relieved. 'Er, fine piece o' machinery, Mr Black. I takes her out fro' time to time, yeh know, just to keep her ticking over nicely...'

'I'm glad to hear that it's been in such good hands,' smiled Sirius. 'It's good to know that at least one thing from...before, is still around and working well. Thank you for looking after it so well.'

'Fine,' said Dumbledore. 'So, take the motorbike. As soon as Dobby gets out, go straight to London and deposit the book in the school vault at Gringotts. With a letter from me you should be granted admittance at any time of day. If you don't find it, come straight back here and we will talk again.'

'If the book is there, Headmaster, it will be safe. Think of it as already done,' proclaimed Hagrid with unusual gravity.

'Good. I knew I could rely on you both. One last thing. I don't think there is any sense in wasting time on this matter. I would like you to go tonight.'

***

It was very soon pretty clear to Harry and Draco that Steps Forward had been taken by the Inner Circle. As they contemplated a little lunch after waking from their latest period of enchanted sleep, Snape entered the room.

'Right you two,' he sneered slightly. 'Out of bed. That's enough lazing around.'

Harry was half-sitting half-lying with his back against Draco's chest, and Draco was casually eating a sandwich with his arms on either side of Harry, dropping crumbs in Harry's hair. The two of them looked up with mild interest.

'My classroom, five minutes. We have a potion to brew, if you're not too busy...'

There was a definite snarl in Snape's tone that made Harry feel as uncomfortable as he usually did where the Potions master was concerned.

'Well, we are quite busy actually,' Draco supplied in an offhand manner. Harry jarred visibly, praying that Draco wouldn't go any further. This behaviour seemed rather out of character for Draco. Harry wondered if he was showing off a bit for his sake.

Snape looked rather surprised at this insubordination from his most favoured pupil. 'With what, exactly?' he enquired sharply.

'Well, there's sleep of course. And the odd sandwich. And of course some light snogging.'

Draco took a bite from his ham sandwich. Harry looked in utter horror at Snape's face, which was rapidly turning purple.

Snape's ability at speech seemed to have temporarily deserted him as he stared unblinkingly at Draco in shock.

'And five minutes is a little harsh,' continued Draco. 'This is rather a small bed, and it can get quite sweaty in here. Do you want us to turn up in your classroom unshowered?'

Oh God, Draco, please please please shut up! prayed Harry in his head. He's going to blow his top!

But Draco had more to say.

'Of course, if you are absolutely insistent, we could always shower together. That might save a little time, don't you think, Harry?'

Harry closed his eyes and hoped that he was imagining it all.

'It's not a step we've taken yet, actually, showering together, but, I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. Or would you prefer--'

'Very well, Mr Malfoy,' choked Snape. 'You have made your point. You have half an hour to finish your lunch and prepare yourselves for an afternoon of Potion making. Beyond that, the details of your er, ablutions, are your own affair. Professor Dumbledore assures me you have the means to reach the classroom unnoticed by the rest of the school. I will see you shortly.'

He turned with a grand swirl of his robes and left the room.

'I don't believe you!' cried Harry. 'You're...astonishing! If I'd done that, it would have been fifty points from Gryffindor!'

'Yes, it would,' mused Draco, calmly chewing on his sandwich. 'But that's because you don't know how to deal with him. The thing about Snape is, he's absurdly, painfully embarrassed of our situation. He doesn't know where to look when he sees us snuggled together like this. A complete prude. He would ordinarily use something like this to make pupils squirm as if they'd done something wrong. But take away his ability to belittle, and he crumbles: typical behaviour of your average common or garden repressed Potions master.'

'Wow.' Harry swivelled his head and smiled at Draco. 'I like having you on my side.'

'Good-oh, Harry, old boy. Because on your side is where I'm going to be. And at your side. And...in fact...' he twisted himself and buried his face somewhere under Harry's left armpit '...in fact, all aspects of your side appear to be particularly fetching.' He chuckled a bit and kissed the side of Harry's body.

A little light snogging ensued.

'Did you really want to do it?' Harry asked, after a while.

'Do what?'

'Shower with me.'

'Oh yes, Harry. Of course. If only to wash your dreadful hair myself.' Draco laughed. 'But I think...don't you think that we'd need a little longer than the half hour Snape has allocated us?'

There was a little more laughter, and quite a lot more light snogging. They never did find the time for a shower.

***

It had been the most extraordinary afternoon either of them could remember.

'A Perceptivity Potion,' declared Snape. 'It's highly complex, and you will need to concentrate.'

Highly complex was putting it mildly. There was a list of about twenty ingredients, at least half of which were unstable unless kept in magical stasis until the moment they were required. Shredded mandrake root had to be used within twenty seconds of uprooting the plant. Three of the live ingredients had to be combined with an ambient temperature close to freezing which necessitated a complicated spell to lower the temperature of the room, performed effortlessly by Draco. But by far the most taxing aspect of the Perceptivity Potion was the Willow sap.

Sap from the Whomping Willow had to be harvested during sunlight and was then dried and powdered. In such a state it was inert, but it had to be added to the mixture for only intermittent periods, during which it became dangerously volatile. After a fixed length of time the active Willow sap particles had to be removed from the brew using a complex version of the Summoning Charm, then secured in a second cauldron, which needed to be kept at precisely the temperature of the main mixture. During periods while the Willow sap was absent from the main mixture, the other active ingredients were combined one by one.

After only a few minutes, Harry and Draco were totally enthralled. This made regular Potions classes seem like simple cookery. And Snape was becoming more and more animated as the session proceeded. Indeed, when Harry first successfully raised the Willow sap from the bubbling concoction - they all watched, bright-eyed, as the particles lifted smoothly above the steam in a beautiful sparkling cloud of glowing green - Snape cried Oh, well done, Potter! Ten points to Gryffindor!

Harry was immensely pleased. Potions had never been his strongest subject, whereas Draco had always had a certain gift for it. But Draco himself was just as delighted at seeing the increase in Harry's ability.

'Harry!' he cried, on seeing the Willow sap particles hovering above the main cauldron. 'You're...astonishing!'

Snape was off somewhere in his own world, where incantation and alchemy all combined perfectly in a blur of potions and ingredients and boiling points. Harry and Draco felt privileged to be part of it. And after an hour of constant monitoring and stirring, and Summoning and re-combining, and ensuring that a dozen subsidiary spells and charms worked in effortless harmony with each other, Snape declared the potion ready.

And he served up three goblets, and tried it himself first. Draco and Harry followed suit.

Draco knew in that moment that he would never forget the following ten minutes. He glanced round the room and immediately he could see the trees that once gave up their trunks to become the benches and counters, and could sense - actually feel - dozens and dozens of Potions that had been brewed in that classroom over the years. He felt light as air, invisible, transient and ephemeral. Books on the shelves started to cry out their contents, unused ingredients glowed in their jars, the very air throbbed with an active combination of Nature and Magic. Without any advanced knowledge of Potions, he could instantly see how certain ingredients would blend perfectly with others, or react violently if treated wrongly. It was like the entire subject and all its associated magic suddenly made complete sense to him and arranged itself in a logical and beautiful path in front of him.

He dared to look Harry, slightly wary of what he might see. At once there was Harry as a baby, and as a young boy, and as the teenager he loved. All Harry's emotions shone around his head, like the actual reality of Harry's magic was whirling around him. And amazingly, but also logically, he could see the combination of Harry's magic and his own swirling together in their own magical mixture. Harry was smiling. Draco knew that everything he could see himself Harry was also seeing, and as they sank deeper into the effects of the Perceptivity Potion, there was the certain knowledge in both of them that the Crimson Cloud was not just an intangible philosophical concept, but a vivid, living actuality.

Eventually the effects began to fade, and Harry and Draco found that Snape was talking again.

'Oh, my boys!' he was chanting, still himself charmed by the Potion. 'Do you realise what you've done?'

Harry suspected that he and Draco had much more of an idea of what they had done than Snape did, but still he was filled with a warmth toward Snape that he had never got remotely close to before.

'I never dreamt you would do so well. I actually chose one of the most notoriously difficult of potions so that you wouldn't get ideas above your abilities. But you have totally proved me wrong. Summoning Willow sap particles from an active mixture is well beyond the ability of most wizards. It is advanced Potion making of the most complex kind.'

He stopped and looked at them oddly. Then Harry saw his face take on a bizarre twisted aspect, which, he realised with a jolt, was a smile. And then Snape spoke again.

'There are only five wizards currently in the country who can brew a successful Perceptivity Potion, and we, gentlemen, are three of them.'

***

Harry and Draco were still glowing with this praise when they reached their little room in the Hospital Wing shortly afterwards.

'Did we really do that?' asked Draco.

'So it seems,' smiled Harry.

'Did you see his face?' laughed Draco. 'He was gobsmacked when you first Summoned the Willow sap particles. It was brilliant!'

'I can't believe it! It was amazing! All those ingredients blending together like that! It was just so easy. And I've always been crap at Potions!'

'Well, you're not crap any more, obviously. You're a regular Potions genius now!'

'So are you, Draco, don't forget you did it all too.'

'Yes. But the difference is I expected to be able to do it...!!' he grinned.

Harry laughed and punched him hard on the shoulder. 'You are insufferable at times, Draco,' he despaired.

It started with a sock.

Harry walked over to the window and turned back to look at Draco, still smiling at their success with the Potion. He grasped his wand on a whim and levitated a sock that was lying on the floor. The sock drifted to Draco and tapped him on the shoulder, then nuzzled against his ear.

Draco laughed. 'What's he saying, Harry?' he asked.

Harry looked Draco straight in the eye. 'Can't you tell, Draco?' he asked, coyly. 'He's saying, you are astonishing!'

Draco laughed softly. 'Of course.' He picked up his own wand and the sock's brother danced next to Harry's shoulder.

'What's he saying, Draco?' Harry asked, laughing.

'Don't you know, Harry?' asked Draco gently. Communication between them became unspoken as the two of them stared at each other.

'Yes,' replied Harry silently. 'Yes, I know.'

The mood changed. Harry used his wand instinctively to animate several more items of clothing sending them circling slowly round Draco. Draco began to levitate small items of furniture and as more objects began to rotate entrancingly around the room, Harry stacked the chairs and beds above their heads from the ceiling downwards. Gradually the little room became their whole universe, and all the contents of their universe became toys in their hands. When all the fabric of their room was spinning slowly above their heads, Harry again looked right into Draco's head and they smiled at each other. Harry set the lamps flickering in complex cross-rhythms which made the room glow in a soft iridescence, and Draco sent a cool breeze floating around them, fluttering the curtains and ruffling their hair.

Time seemed to slow, somehow itself turning in the same alluring, breezy, flickering way that the furniture was rotating in its curious airborne ballet. Seconds seemed like weeks, and minutes became an eternity. Draco set all four pairs of their pyjamas dancing slowly around Harry like a group of disembodied backing vocalists and Harry laughed aloud, which sent the pyjamas quivering in sympathetic chuckling. Then they both looked at each other again, and knowing what the other was thinking, they each performed a Levitation charm on the other in perfect synchronisation. Rising slowly to a height of six inches above the floor, they both felt the same magical intensity flooding their veins.

'My boys!' came a voice from the door.

The atmosphere in the room was immediately shattered. The furniture fell deafeningly back to earth, and the pyjamas and clothes collapsed into heaps. Suddenly the light returned to normal, the air was still, and their feet found the floor.

They turned to face Dumbledore, who was standing at the edge of the room with McGonagall behind him in the doorway.

Harry felt awkward. Surely they had behaved irresponsibly; but he also felt that Dumbledore had disturbed a private moment. He shuffled uneasily.

Draco was more direct.

'We're sorry, Professor. We just got carried away.'

'Sorry? Why on earth should you be sorry?' asked the Headmaster, who, with one movement of his wand, restored the room to its previous order.

'Er...irresponsible use of magic?' suggested Harry.

Dumbledore ignored him for a while and pondered, 'Draco, which charm did you use on the pyjamas?'

'I'm not sure, I just sort of willed it to happen and it did.'

'And Harry, how did you set the lamps flickering?'

Harry looked nervously at Draco. 'Er...flickering charm?' Harry flustered.

'Really?' said Dumbledore. 'Ever heard of a flickering charm, Minerva?'

'No. It's certainly new to me. What was the incantation for it, Harry?'

'Er...'

'He doesn't know,' answered Draco. 'Neither of us do. We're sorry. It won't happen again. It's just that we were feeling pretty high after such a good time in Potions, and--'

'What happened in Potions?' interrupted Dumbledore.

'They brewed a perfect Perceptivity Potion,' said Snape as he entered the room. 'More stable and much more potent than the one I brewed earlier in the year.'

'A Perceptivity Potion?' repeated Dumbledore, not able to conceal his surprise. 'Which one of them Summoned the Willow sap particles from the mixture?'

'They both did,' replied Snape. 'Potter was particularly impressive.'

'You should have seen him, Professor!' said Draco, with more than a touch of pride. 'The way they just lifted out of the green steam, it was amazing!'

'Well, I suppose after what we have just witnessed, it is not surprising. It's a shame you missed it, Severus.'

'What happened?'

'Well, I almost lost count, but I before I stopped it I counted seven charms being performed simultaneously. Including three complex ones and two that they cannot have learned yet. And one - a flickering charm, Harry calls it - that I've never heard of. Have you ever heard of it, Severus? Do you know what the incantation might be?'

'Seven?' repeated Snape, goggling so much he ignored the question. 'Are you sure? I can only do two.'

'I can do two as well' said McGonagall, 'although two at once tires me more than twenty in a row.'

'And I,' continued Dumbledore, 'after years of practice, can perform three spells or four charms at the same time. But you two, my boys, did seven without even thinking about it. And who knows how many more you could have done had I not disturbed you.'

'Why did you stop them?' asked Snape. 'It would have been valuable to see how they did it.'

'I had to stop them because the build-up of magic in the room was becoming dangerously high. There was a risk of the charms becoming confused.' He beamed at Harry and Draco. 'It is still sparking round the walls now, which you would be able to see if you took some more Perceptivity Potion.'

Dumbledore was looking distinctly pleased about something.

'What do you make of all this, Minerva?' he asked enthusiastically.

'I think that the programme of Charms we had worked out now looks rather inadequate.' She also was looking excited.

Dumbledore addressed the boys directly. 'Harry, Draco, you've no need to be sorry. What we have just seen was astonishing. Evidently your abilities have increased far more than any of us suspected. Seven charms! That's almost beyond belief. But we've seen it here, so we must believe it. Tell me, how did you work together? Have you become telepathic? How did you synchronise the Levitation charms you used on each other?'

Draco felt bewildered by so many questions.

'Professor, we didn't plan any of it. It just happened. But...seven is an odd number; I don't quite understand. Was one of us doing three and the other four?'

'No. I think you were doing seven between you. Your pool of innate magic now seems to serve you both. On your own you may not been able to manage anything like seven, we will have to see. But together...together you seem to be extremely accomplished.'

'I've never seen anything like it,' added McGonagall. 'It was like you somehow harnessed a vast quantity of raw magic.'

'Nobody knows very much about raw magic,' supplied Snape. 'It's the preserve of a few highly intellectual theorists; most wizards prefer to deal in applied magic - spells and charms and potions and the like - rather than the theory. We just accept that we have the ability, without questioning where it comes from. But...what I saw in the Potions classroom when I had taken the Perceptivity Potion, and what Professor Dumbledore could see washing round the walls of this room, that was obviously real physical presence of something. It is all rather intriguing.'

'Yes. Well put, Severus,' said Dumbledore.

Harry and Draco looked at each other. Neither knew what to say.

'We will leave you, I think. Take an hour or so off, it's been a draining afternoon. Then you can have some supper and you will be doing some Transfiguration this evening; your friend Hermione Granger will be assisting Professor McGonagall. Then you will have some sleep, and later tonight you will receive your first lesson in Apparating. Exciting times, my boys, exciting times. For all of us.'

And with that Harry and Draco were left alone.

'Did we really do that?' asked Harry.

'So it seems,' replied Draco. 'Although, I'm not sure exactly how.'

Harry stepped up and pulled Draco towards him. 'Easy. Crimson Cloud. Magic bonding and all that. Together, it seems, Draco, we are special.' They hugged. And kissed. They fell onto their bed, glad to be alone again after the events of the afternoon.

'You were special before, remember?' mused Draco after a while. 'Scar, duel with the Dark Lord, Triwizard Champion, and other famous deeds as reported in the Daily Prophet. I was nothing, just an arrogant bastard.'

'I wasn't special, Draco, it was just circumstances. And you weren't an arrogant bastard...all the time.'

They both laughed, slightly nervously; they were both aware that the atmosphere in the room was becoming increasingly highly charged.

Draco ran his hand through Harry's hair as he removed his glasses.

'You were special, Harry, and you still are. And you make me feel special.'

Further conversation proved impossible as they gave in to the crushing desire they both felt. Harry began to feel close to tears as he saw his whole life mean nothing, emotionally, magically, physically, if he didn't always have Draco with him. The temperature on the bed began to rise as they each sensed their shared experiences that afternoon fuel the flames of the physical desire they had both repressed for weeks.

'Draco...' murmured Harry.

'Shhh,' whispered Draco, closing Harry's mouth with his own. 'Don't talk. Just let it happen. Just let our love pull us together.'

The room blurred. To each of them, there was only the other. The individual details of what was happening were not lodged separately in either of them, but the rising desire was burning the experience as a whole indelibly into their very identities. Draco became both tender and desperate. He pulled Harry's shirt over his head and ran his hands over Harry's slim lightly-muscled body, breaking the kiss, their vital link, for only the briefest time necessary. Harry quivered in delight at the exquisite touch, but for Harry, unused to such astonishing sensual intensity, the pleasure became unbearable, and he flung Draco away from him with his back against the bed. Draco looked up at him in surprise, but Harry was staring at him like he was the only thing that mattered in the world, and he melted. Tentatively Harry unbuttoned Draco's shirt, and Draco wriggled out of it. For a moment there was stillness, and then their kiss resumed more frantically than before. As their naked chests met, the skin-on-skin contact sent sparks through both their bodies. Harry moaned. This was too, too, too pleasurable to be allowed, surely?

But this time Draco broke away, and Harry gasped as Draco's tongue burnt a path of electric sensuality over his chest. Draco gently kissed him everywhere there was exposed skin, each touch making the heat rise in Harry to heights he hadn't thought possible. A burning in him caused him again to pull back up and crush their mouths back together, as Harry's hands ran all over Draco's torso, desperate for the feel of him. Gradually the balance of power shifted between them, and as Draco felt Harry's rising passion as if it were his own, he revelled in the feeling of Harry beginning to dictate the direction and pace of their love-making. Harry was on top of Draco, grinding his body into Draco's, wanting complete and total contact, his previous inhibitions blown away. Oh God, thought Draco, he is miraculous. He is everything. I want this so much...

Draco himself was overwhelmed. He gently eased Harry off him and they lay, side by side, shirtless, panting. Speech was not required. They both knew what was going to happen. Draco propped himself up on his side, and without taking his eyes off Harry, delicately moved his hand down Harry's chest until it rested on his belt buckle. He loosened it, very, very slightly. Harry breathed a deep, stuttering breath, and pulled Draco's head down to his own. The contact of their lips was this time intensely loving and delicate. Draco's eyes closed in ecstasy as the moment seemed to last forever, a moment of exquisite realisation, their most tender kiss yet, the moment when Harry's kiss gave Draco the permission he was so desperate for. Draco whipped Harry's belt out from his jeans in a quick flick.

The sound signalled an immediate and sharp increase in their pace. Within seconds they were tearing at each other's remaining clothes, wriggling frantically out of jeans, kicking off shoes, peeling off socks, shucking boxer shorts like they were nothing more than an inconvenience. As their naked bodies met for the first time, the level of arousal so obviously high in both of them, Draco felt like he wouldn't be able to breathe unless he had maximum possible bodily contact with Harry, and even then, that might not be enough... They pitched into each other, their legs furiously shifting and entwining, their crotches grinding into each other creating an intense heat that radiated through them in delicious waves, their arms gripping their bodies so close to each other, their breath so ragged that kissing became fuelled by something deep within both of them. Draco felt tears streaming down his cheeks. He didn't know if they were his or Harry's.

'Harry,' he wept. 'I love you so, so, so much. Never leave me. Never stop this. Never.'

Harry didn't answer with words. His reply rang through Draco's head like cathedral bells. 'I'm never going to stop loving you, Draco. You are my life.'

And then their climax was upon them, engulfing them, spinning their heads, wracking their bodies. They bucked together and clung to each other desperately, as a force stronger than either of them had ever known swept them off together somewhere way beyond the Hospital Wing. The power of it was awesome, beautiful, natural. They collapsed onto each other, sated. Harry, unable to see straight, reached for Draco's hand and linked their fingers. But the physical contact of their hands was nothing to what they both felt in their heads: it was like they were inside each other's thoughts. After years of denial and oceans of hate, the sense of union was as vital and warming as the physical pleasures had been ecstatic. Relief, love, joy, happiness all flooded the room.

It was a long time before either of them moved.

'I could lie here for ever,' Harry whispered eventually.

'Tempting,' said Draco. 'But I can think of at least two reasons why we shouldn't.'

'Really? What?'

'Well, first, McGonagall and Granger are going to be arriving soon to do Transfiguration. And second... well, we're kind of erm...sticky.'

Harry sniggered. 'OK. But only the first one of those is a good reason. The second is just you being picky.'

'Picky?'

They both laughed.

'OK, it was a bit picky. But I really only said that to try to get you into the shower.'

Harry smiled at him. 'OK, Draco. You're going to get to wash my hair after all...'