Unthinkable Thoughts

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

~

BATMAN & ROBIN

 

'They must be in there, knock again,' instructed Ron impatiently.  He was carefully trying to balance a tray of food while Hermione tapped at the door.

'Ron,' she replied calmly, 'there is no answer.  Believe me.'  She opened the door and peered round the edge.

'Oh my God!'

Ron desperately tried to see past Hermione and in the process the tray tilted slightly and one of the four plates slipped off the edge.

'Oh NO!' wailed Ron, as he watched helplessly at it slid off the tray in slow-motion.  'Hermione!'

Hermione spun round and caught the plate with a neat twist of her wrist and hips.  Ron felt a sudden stab of fire in the pit of his stomach at this lithe movement, but was then overcome with curiosity as to what Hermione had seen in the room.  He followed her past the door.

The air in the room was red.  Crimson.

'Good Lord,' he whispered.  'Why exactly...?'

'Best not to ask, I reckon,' answered Hermione, glancing round the room.  Clothes were strewn everywhere.  'Open the window, would you, Ron?  Let's try to clear the air a bit.'

He set the food down on the table and tried to wave the air clear.  'What on earth have we walked in on?' he pondered.

'Ron, I would have thought that was rather obvious,' said Hermione, instinctively wandering round the room, picking up clothes and folding them.  'We've just walked into the Crimson Cloud.'

'Yeah, but why has it suddenly become visible?'

Hermione looked at Ron with an air of genuine fondness.  'I really don't know,' she answered delicately.  Your naivety is rather charming, she thought.  Just like Harry's.  And as she reached the bed on her brief tidy-up she hastily threw the covers over it so that Ron couldn't see the state of the sheets.

'I wonder where they are?' muttered Ron.  'Pomfrey didn't say that they had left the room.  I suppose they must have sneak--'

'Shhh!'  Hermione held up her hand.

'What?'

'They're in the shower!' she whispered.  'Listen!'

The soft drumming of the water was now audible from the next room, as was a laugh Ron recognised as Harry's.

'Oh my God!' moaned Ron.  'First they sleep in the same bed, now they shower together.  Where on earth will it all end?'

Hermione smiled to herself, glad that the sheets were covered.

'Who can say?' she mused, lips pursed in delight at Ron's innocence.  'Just pretend we haven't noticed anything.  Supper!' she called brightly.

The sound of the water stopped, and there was some hasty whispering from behind the door to the bathroom.

Presently Harry emerged dripping wet with a small towel round his waist, and Draco followed him, similarly clad.

'Ah,' beamed Harry, his shyness at having Hermione see him undressed easily outweighed by the joy he was feeling on the back of the previous hour.  'Supper guests!  Hello, you two!'

'Better than that,' smiled Draco.  'Supper guests who bring supper!'

'Hiya Harry!' began Ron, 'McGonagall said we could have supper with you before she comes in later.  But what's been going on in here?  Why is the air red?'

Hermione shot him a warning look.

'Is it?' Harry asked, surprised.  'Looks normal to me.'

'And me,' added Draco.

'I wonder why you two can't see it?' Hermione thought aloud.  'Still, it's more or less gone now anyway.  Perhaps the er, heat of the moment is passed.'

Draco sniggered.  'Maybe, Granger, maybe.  But it's sure to be back...'

'The heat of what moment?' asked Ron.

'Never mind about that, Weasley.  It's enough for you to know that tonight you will be dining with two very happy, hungry bunnies.  Now, turn your backs for a moment would you?'

Ron and Hermione looked out of the window at dusk falling over the castle grounds for a few moments as they heard some more giggling behind them.  Hermione was smiling too.

'What?' hissed Ron.

'This is becoming something of a habit,' Hermione giggled.

'And rather an odd one, too,' he agreed.  'Come on you two or the food will get cold.'

'OK!' called Draco.  'Now Harry, sit there.'

Ron and Hermione turned to see Harry seated in a chair with Draco standing behind him, roughly towelling Harry's sopping hair.  Both were in their pyjamas.

'Look, Harry!' smiled Draco.  'It's chicken-and-ham pie.  That's your favourite.'

'How can I look when you're doing that?' moaned Harry from under the towel.

'Oh yeah,' remembered Ron.  'When we went to pick up the food, the House Elves said that Dumbledore had changed tonight's menu about an hour ago.  Because of you.  Hence, chicken-and-ham pie again.  So come on, what's been going on today?'

The four of them sat round the small table and attacked the food while Harry said, 'Well.  It could be any number of things.  Today has been rather a remarkable day.  But I'm pretty certain there's one event that Dumbledore won't be celebrating.  So that probably limits the choice to two.'

He and Draco laughed, while Ron had his mouth full.

'Could be the perfect Perceptivity Potion,' said Draco.

'Perceptivity Potion?' echoed Hermione.

'Yes.  A perfect one, according to Snape,' added Harry.

'Perceptivity Potion?' repeated Hermione in disbelief.

'What's that?' asked Ron.

'An immensely difficult Potion,' said Hermione.  'I simply do not believe you.  You're crap at Potions, Harry.  You can't have made one.  You have to Summon--'

'Summon Willow sap particles from the active mixture, yeah, we know,' interrupted Draco.  'You should have seen Harry do it.  He was brilliant.'

'You were wonderful too,' smiled Harry, looking into Draco's eyes, nearly kissing him.

'Oh pur-leeze,' moaned Ron through a mouthful of pie.

'I just don't believe it,' insisted Hermione.  'There can't be half a dozen wizards in England who can brew one successfully.  It's just too improbable to--'

'Actually Snape says there are only five,' Draco corrected.  'And he says that Harry and I are two of them, and he is another.'

'Wow,' Ron choked.

'Believe it, Herm,' confirmed Harry.  'And for proof, check the notice board in the Gryffindor Common Room tonight.  Snape gave me ten house points for it.'

'Snape gave you house points?' goggled Hermione.

'Yes,' confirmed Draco, 'although thinking about it now, ten points does seem a bit mean considering the enormity of the achievement.  Still, I didn't get any at all, did I, Harry?'

'No.  Perhaps that was because you expected to get them.'

There was more private laughter between them.

'Well,' said Hermione after a while.  'A Perceptivity Potion.  Who would have thought it!  You must really be getting good, Harry!'

'What was the other thing?' Ron wondered.

'What other thing?' mumbled Harry through a mouthful of chicken.

'Harry!  Don't talk with your mouth full.  It's disgusting,' said Draco with mock disapproval.

They looked at each other lovingly.

'Eurghh,' squirmed Ron.  'Stop doing that, it's really off-putting.'

But Hermione nodded approvingly.  'Thank you, Malfoy!' she crowed.  'I'm always having to tell them about their table manners.  You should see them at breakfast some mornings.  It's like being at a circus.'

'A what?' asked Draco, bewildered.

'Never mind,' Hermione replied.  'Anyway, what was the other thing?'

'What other thing?' repeated Harry.

'Here we go again,' Ron sighed, as he attacked some potatoes.

'The other possible reason for the change of menu,' Hermione despaired.

'Ah!' beamed Harry. 'Yes.  That would be the Dance of the Seven Charms.'

'The what?' Ron goggled, thinking it sounded rather risqué.

'Seven charms,' smiled Draco.  'This afternoon we used seven charms to set the furniture spinning round the room.  Dumbledore seemed to think it was quite exceptional.'

'How many?  Seven?' said Hermione in disbelief.  'You learned seven new charms in a single afternoon?  That seems highly improbable, Harry.  It took you weeks to learn the Summoning charm.'

'Not seven new charms, Herm, pay attention.  Although some of them were new to us.  Seven charms at the same time.'

'Seven charms at the same time?' repeated Hermione in complete amazement.

'The echo in this room is becoming more pronounced, don't you think?' Draco mocked lightly.

'Seven?  Is that good?' asked Ron.

'Don't be silly, Harry,' said Hermione dismissively.  'I bet even Dumbledore can't do more than one charm at once.  Seven simultaneously would be truly astonishing.'

'Actually he can do three spells, or four charms, and McGonagall and Snape can do two each,' Draco stated.  'And we did seven, which, as you say, is truly astonishing.'

'Seven?'

'I take it that's good then,' said Ron to nobody in particular.

'How...?'  Hermione was having trouble speaking.

'Something to do with the power of the combined pool of magic,' commented Harry in a deliberately casual manner.  'Crimson Cloud, etc etc.  Apparently we can both tap into it, and when we both tap into it at the same time, we can do astonishing things.  Hence, seven charms.'

Harry couldn't keep up his offhand air and started laughing.

'Oh my God!' spluttered Hermione, laughing too.  'You're Superman!'

'What?' goggled Ron.

'Superman!' cried Hermione.

'Who?'  Draco, too, was utterly mystified.

'Superman!' cried Harry.  'Runs faster than a speeding train!  Leaps tall buildings in a single bound!'

'Superman!' yelled Hermione.  'Brews complex Potions!  Performs seven charms simultaneously!'

'What on earth are they talking about?' Draco asked Ron.

'Must be a Muggle thing,' answered Ron, eyeing the food left on Hermione's plate.

'Just get me a blue satin catsuit and a pair of red pants, with a big H on the front!' cried Harry.

'Ooh, that sounds intriguing...' pondered Draco.

Ron looked at him and clicked his tongue loudly, rolling his eyes.

'By day, Harry Potter, an unremarkable schoolboy with dark hair and glasses, but in times of crisis...Superman!' cried Hermione.

'Does the big H go on the front of the catsuit, or on the pants?' asked Draco innocently.

Harry and Hermione collapsed into hysterical laughter.

'Fair question,' chipped in Ron, who still had no idea what they were talking about.

'Superman, save me, save me!' squealed Hermione in mock distress as she fell out of her chair laughing.

Harry jumped up and, kissing Draco quickly on the crown of his head, he adopted a Superman-In-Flight pose and charged over to where Hermione was laughing uncontrollably on the floor.

'They're absolutely bloody bonkers,' Ron stated.

'Well, you've no argument from me there,' Draco smiled.  'Pass the water would you, Ron?  Shit, sorry...I mean Weasley.'

Ron looked at him, then smiled back shyly.  '"Ron" is fine,' he said.  'That is, if...?'

'Of course,' replied Draco simply.

'Blimey!' cried Hermione from over by the window where she and Harry were picking themselves up of the floor.

'What?' Ron asked, alarmed.

'Look!' she was pointing out of the window.  'Talk about Superheroes!  It's bloody Batman and Robin!'

The others gathered round the window and looked out on an extraordinary scene.  In front of his hut Hagrid was standing next to the motorbike dressed in full biking leathers and goggles.  Beside him on the ground was Dobby, wearing his own flying jacket and matching miniature goggles with a Biggles-style white scarf.  Hagrid was obviously pleading with him to get on the bike and, after a couple of minutes, he impatiently grabbed Dobby and shoved him roughly into one of the panniers at the rear.  A moment later the odd couple were speeding out over the lake, Dobby's scarf billowing behind them.

'Well,' said Harry, quietly.  'Curiouser and curiouser.'

'Where on earth do you think they're going?' pondered Hermione.

'Who can say?  Come on, let's get back to supper.'

'Good idea, Ron,' said Draco.  'Harry, please come and eat something more.'

'"Ron?"  Did you just call him "Ron?"' demanded Hermione, astonished.

'When did that happen?' Harry asked, pleased.

'When you two were playing satin-blue-catsuit-man,' replied Draco casually.

'I feel left out now,' Hermione pouted.  'Am I the only one left to call you Malfoy?'

Draco laughed.  'That depends on you...Hermione.'

There was a little coy smiling from all of them.

'Shit, I'm going to have to go soon,' moaned Ron.  'I've got a blasted star-chart due first thing in the morning and I've not even started it yet.'

Harry smiled.  Ron was obviously not working any differently to usual.

'You haven't even started it yet?' Hermione despaired.

'There's that echo back again,' observed Draco.

'Remember that if you miss any more deadlines this term you're on detention, and you won't get any sympathy from me.'

'Shit,' said Draco.

'What?' the others all asked together.

'You said "this term".  I'd forgotten all about terms.  How much longer is it till the end of term?'

'Three, three and a half weeks, something like that,' answered Hermione.  'Why do you ask?'

Draco looked desperate, like he was facing a deep trauma.  'Three or three and a half weeks?  Oh my God.'

'That echo really is busy tonight,' smiled Ron, but Harry kicked him.

'And how long is the Christmas holiday?' Draco asked quietly, even though deep down he already knew the answer.  His face was even paler than normal.

'Same as usual,' Hermione said delicately.  'About three weeks.'

Hermione thought Draco looked like he was about to faint.

'Hey, Draco,' soothed Harry.  'Come here.'

Draco looked warily at Ron and Hermione, but Harry shook his head as if he weren't to worry about them, and pulled Draco into a hug, gently kissing his hair.

'Don't worry about it, it'll be alright, I promise.  We'll find a way,' he whispered into Draco's neck.

This was the first time Ron and Hermione had ever seen any real intimacy between the pair of them, and they felt rather awkward.  Or rather Ron felt rather awkward while Hermione felt all gooey inside.

'Don't worry about what?' she asked gently.  'Anything we can do?'

'No, not really,' answered Harry quietly.  'It's just the Crimson Cloud; it binds us together so strongly, Draco becomes anxious if we are more than a couple of feet apart.  The thought of weeks of forced separation seems about as difficult as it could ever get, to be honest.'

Hermione looked thoughtful.  She rather thought Harry had understated the nature of this problem for Draco's sake.

'What about you?' asked Ron.  'Doesn't it make you feel like that too?'

'Well, sort of.  The Crimson Cloud affects us both in different ways.  For Draco, well for both of us actually, there is this need for constant physical proximity.  But for me there is also...well, this is difficult to explain; for Draco the problems are generally when we are apart, but for me, well I feel them more when we're together, because...I sort of feel, that sometimes there is a...'

'Oh for Heavens sake spit it out, Harry,' interrupted Hermione.

'OK.  I'm constantly aware that by bringing us together the Crimson Cloud has placed Draco in great danger.  And while he gets upset if we are apart, I sometimes feel as if it's better for him that way.'

There was an uncomfortable silence.

'It's that noble thing that all you Gryffindors have,' Draco said after a while.  'He can't get it into his head that I don't care about the danger.'

Hermione regarded them both, smiling slightly.

'So let me get this straight,' she began.  'You are unbearably happy together, except for Harry's worry about danger?'

'Er, yes, I guess so...' Harry agreed.

'Well, Harry, that's what it's been like for Ron and me being friends of yours.  Tons of danger, most of the time.  But you don't deny us the right to be your friends, and we wouldn't have it any other way.  Same with Draco.  It's typical of you to care about others more than yourself, but if Draco doesn't mind it, then you shouldn't let it get in the way.'

'Bravo, Hermione,' cheered Draco.  'It took me ages to try and say that the other night.'

'Well, you're not as clever as Hermione, obviously,' smirked Ron, although without malice.

'Oh yes he is,' Hermione declared.  'Because he also knows that he can't just ignore the danger, however much he pretends it's not important.   That's why he gets edgy when you're apart, Harry, because unless he's right there next to you he can't actually protect you against any such danger.  It's kind of cute really.  Both of you are more worried about the other.  An interesting but totally predictable effect of the Crimson Cloud, I should say.'

Harry looked at Draco.  'I told you she was like this,' he smiled.  'She just looks at something and sees all angles of it.'

'It can be rather unnerving,' Ron agreed.

'I'm beginning to see why,' Draco laughed.  'But simply understanding our feelings won't make them go away.'

'No,' smiled Hermione.  'That will probably take years, just like it would for anyone else.'

'What a little ray of sunshine you can be, Herm,' Harry stated.  'Years of insecurity about being both apart and together.  How wonderful to look forward to that.'

'I think you'll find that's called life, boys.'

They all laughed.

'And talking of real life,' she added, 'star-charts don't grow on trees, Ron.  Not to my knowledge, anyway.  So get started.'

Ron sighed deeply.  'At least you two won't ever have to put up with nagging like that,' he moaned.

'I wouldn't be so sure,' Harry smiled.  'Draco can nag like you and your mother put together, Ron.  Have a shower, wash your hair, eat more food, blah blah blah,' he mocked, glancing sideways at Draco.

'Really?' asked Hermione in mild wonder.  'Ron and his mother combined?  Curiously I find myself rather impressed by that, to say nothing of surprised.'

'Absolutely not!' cried Draco.  'I just want you to eat a bit more!  It's a wonder you don't fade away.'

'Well done, Ron,' Harry mused.

'What do you mean?'

'You've successfully managed to change the subject from your star-chart to my eating.  A cheapish trick, but not one I blame you for particularly.'

'Oh, was it that transparent?' asked Ron, half-smiling.

'Yes,' the other three chorused.

Just at that moment the door opened and Madam Pomfrey entered and instinctively surveyed the table.

'Is that all you've eaten?' she despaired at Harry.

Madam Pomfrey, always the true professional, took the outburst of laughter that followed her question completely in her stride.

'Talk about nagging!' laughed Ron.  'OK, OK, I'm off.  Astronomy here we come...'

He left the room, and Madam Pomfrey started fussing.

'Now, clear these dishes, Professor McGonagall will be here any minute.  You're hardly invalids and the House Elves are busy enough as it is.  This room is a disgrace, and I want this bed changed.'

They noticed she was carrying a bundle of clean bed linen.

'Don't worry about that,' said Hermione, quickly.  'I'll help them change the bed.'

'Thank you, Miss Granger.  That will be a help.  This pair will be hopeless.'

'Did you really mean that?' asked Harry after she had left the room.  'Will you really change the bed linen?'

'Absolutely not,' declared Hermione.  'I just didn't want her doing it, knowing the state of the sheets currently.  And anyway, I fancy a laugh watching you two trying to do it.'

'Do you really think we'll be that useless?' asked Draco, slightly shocked.  'There can't be that much to it.'

'Oh yes, you'll be totally crap.  I'm quite sure of that.'

'Hermione,' said Harry, remembering years of enforced domestic chores living with the Dursleys, ' I'll have you know I've changed more beds than--'

Harry was cut off by Draco flinging a pillow at him, and Hermione squealed with laughter.

When Professor McGonagall entered a few minutes later, she was pleased to see a great deal of hilarity in the room.  Harry and Draco were, it appeared, trying to make up the bed they slept in, but they seemed to have had more success at wearing the sheets than anything else.

'Enough,' she declared after a few minutes more.  'We have work to do.'

One wave of her wand set the bed immediately straight and put her without doubt in charge.

'Let's begin, gentlemen.  Transfiguration is a complex area of magic.  I want complete concentration.'

***

They had started small, but very quickly it was evident that there had been just as significant an improvement in Transfiguration as there had been in Potions and Charms.  After about half an hour, the room was filled with a completely random selection of objects which had once been the furniture and the room's other contents.  Hermione looked around.  It was like being in a junk shop.

Next to the window were a pair of Chinese vases that had once been chairs, and between them a large stuffed tiger that Draco had transfigured from one of the beds.  Harry and Draco were both wearing leather jackets that had shortly before been pyjamas, and Harry was sitting on a small raft complete with a mast and sail which he had created from the other bed.  Strung from the lamps was a row of small lanterns which had once been socks, and Harry was still pleased at having changed the table into a large pile of cushions.

'Enough cushions,' said McGonagall firmly.  'I think we can do better than that.  Let's start with something more complicated.  Hermione, hold this pillow up over there and Harry, see if you can transfigure it into an owl.'

Harry stood up and aimed his wand but Hermione tripped over the tiger and the pillow became a one-legged dove which fluttered out of the window while Hermione was left sprawled on the floor with feathers sprouting from her hair.

'Oh dear,' said McGonagall, waving her wand to amend Hermione's hair, 'you're going to need another pillow.'

'No we won't,' Draco replied instantly.  'We only use one bed.'

McGonagall sniffed slightly at this reference to their sleeping arrangements, but was concentrating too hard to care much.  'OK, forget owls.  Try working together, like you did with the Charms.  Just see what happens.'

Harry and Draco stood facing each other and Hermione threw the remaining pillow into the air between them.  Draco transfigured it immediately into a pigeon and it flew to Harry's shoulder.  Harry turned it into a small toad, set it on the ground and watched it hop slowly towards Draco, who changed it into a large wispy fern in an elaborate porcelain pot.  Then Harry changed the colour of the pot.  And then Draco changed the fern into a cat, then the cat became a balloon with the words Harry and Draco which drifted towards the ceiling and in turn became a pair of lively Bludgers.

The speed of Transfiguration became faster and faster.  Hermione and McGonagall couldn't keep up with the succession of objects in front of them.  The whole room seemed to spin as all the objects were becoming new things so quickly that it was impossible to note all the changes.  Hermione stopped concentrating on the room and turned her attention to Harry and Draco, who were totally silent, obviously communicating in a way that didn't involve speech.  She instinctively knew that they had long stopped working separately and now couldn't tell who was transfiguring what.  It was breathtaking, like being caught in a film that was running at twenty times its normal speed.

Magic started to leak out of their Transfiguration spells and began randomly affecting other things, as if the spells were no longer affecting just single objects but were beginning to animate the entire room.  The temperature dropped considerably, as did the light levels.  Hermione was alarmed to notice that the stuffed tiger was definitely beginning to purr. She looked instinctively at McGonagall.

'Stop!' commanded McGonagall.

The room was still.  The array of clutter around them was astonishing.  Hermione gingerly picked her way past a cauldron filled with about two hundred tennis balls.  She had no idea where it had come from.

'Wow!' she whispered.  ''I've never seen anything like that before!'

'Neither have I,' added McGonagall.

Harry and Draco were silent.  They were still communicating in a way Hermione couldn't understand.  McGonagall was still muttering about how wonderfully they had done, but Hermione noticed that they were not listening.  At all.

'What are they doing?' Hermione asked.

They stood as still as statues, eyes glazed.

'I don't know,' replied McGonagall slowly.  'Harry, Draco, why are you looking like that?'

It was as if they couldn't hear her.

Far removed from the hyper-real speed at which the previous transfigurations had taken place, events now seemed to be trapped in ice.

Harry and Draco each raised their wands, oblivious to the presence of Hermione and McGonagall.  Should they do it?  Why on earth not?  They had been advised to work together after all.  A faint smile passed between them.  They hadn't discussed it, not at all, but...

They activated the spell at precisely the same time.  A cool silvery breeze blew briefly through the room.  And then all was the same.  Harry and Draco stood staring at each other amid the clutter.

Except they had changed places.

'NO!!' cried McGonagall in genuine distress.  She staggered slightly, her usual control knocked totally for six.

'What is it?' yelped Hermione.  'What is it?  What have they done?'

'Oh my God!' McGonagall moaned, wringing her hands.

Hermione rushed up to Harry.  'They've transfigured themselves into each other?'

'Yes!'  McGonagall was as white as a sheet.  'Although, Merlin alone knows how - the spell is supposed to be unworkable!'

'Harry!' cried Hermione.

'It's not Harry,' said Draco/Harry calmly.

'I'm Harry,' said Harry/Draco.

'Reverse the Transfiguration immediately,' ordered McGonagall.  The tone of her voice brooked no argument.

The silver wind whooshed past them again, and Harry and Draco stood in their original positions.

'Look at me, you two.'  The professor's voice was calm and controlled but with a noticeable edge.  'Never in all my years at Hogwarts...  You will promise me one thing.  You will never ever attempt that double transfiguration again.  I am not saying this just as your teacher.  I am saying it because it is a highly, highly dangerous spell.  One tiny error in the magic and you could have been left damaged forever.  Forever.  The consequences could have been unthinkable.  Do you understand?'

Harry and Draco considered themselves well and truly chastened, and muttered their agreement with her order.

'Good.'

McGonagall slowly regained her demeanour and eventually said, 'Now.  I have to ask.  How did you do it?  Which incantation did you use?  How did you ensure you both used the spell at the same time?'

They both looked at her blankly.

'Oh,' she sighed.  'You haven't any idea, have you?'

'No,' said Draco.  'We just did it.  Sorry.  We just willed it to happen and it did.'

She looked at them both closely, thinking; then one wave of her wand restored the contents of the room to its previous condition, albeit minus one pillow.

'Oh,' Draco muttered sadly.

'What?' asked McGonagall.

'I was hoping we could hang on to the leather jackets,' said Draco.

McGonagall rolled her eyes.  'Right.  Enough.  Miss Granger will you please go and ask Madam Pomfrey if she could join us?'

Once Hermione had left the room, McGonagall spoke quickly.  'OK.  You are talented, extraordinarily so.  And that is exciting.  But I meant what I said about that double transfiguration.  Never again, no matter what the circumstances.  However.  I cannot ignore that regular Transfiguration offers little challenge to you now, and so you'll need something more exciting to work on.  So as soon as the time becomes available I have decided that it would be unfair if I did not try to teach you the Animagus transformation.  But, we will go at my pace.  And you will not practice it without my being present.  And not one word to anybody about it.  Is that clear?'

They affirmed that it was.

'Good.  Now when your potion arrives you will sleep for the next few hours, and then you will be taken into the village for your first lesson in Apparating.  You of course both know that it is not possible to Apparate within the castle and its grounds, and as you are both underage, we will naturally need the cover of darkness.  I will see you again sometime after 1am.  Goodnight, gentlemen.'

Madam Pomfrey entered carrying two goblets of sleeping draught just as McGonagall was leaving.  Hermione did not reappear, and the pair drank the potion and got slowly ready for bed.

'Professor Dumbledore has indicated that this is to be the last night you should rely on the potion to sleep,' Madam Pomfrey informed them.   'So make the most of it: it will be back to normal sleep after tonight.'

She left the room after bidding them goodnight.

'Did we really do that?' asked Harry quietly as they were changing into their pyjamas.

'So it seems,' Draco sighed.  'And she was pretty clear about never doing it again.'

'You can say that again,' agreed Harry.

'And she was prett--'

Harry thumped Draco and they fell into bed, snuggling into each other's arms.

'It was nice being you for a few seconds,' smiled Harry.  'I liked the feel of silk against my skin.'

'Really?  I don't know how on earth you cope with your hair,' Draco said smoothly. 'I felt a distinct need to brush it.'

Harry sniggered.  'Well if you hadn't been so rough with that towel, it might not have been so bad.  Anyway, that's the last time you'll ever have to feel it, so you can forget it now.'

'How can I forget it?  You're forgetting that I'm the one who has to look at it all day long.  Still, we're going to be Animagi, that's exciting,' yawned Draco. 'I hope I get to be a tiger.'

'A tiger?  Don't be stupid, that will hardly be very useful.  You won't be able to sneak around the countryside if you're a flippin' tiger.'

'Who says I want to sneak around unnoticed?'

Harry laughed, which turned into a big gaping yawn.  'Anyway, I don't think you get to choose.  I think it's something in your character that determines it for you.'

'Oh God, really?' Draco murmured sleepily.

But Harry didn't answer, and, for the last time, the potion pressed them both into enchanted sleep.

***

Apparating was easy.  And good fun.

Dumbledore instructed them at first.  In principle, the magic concerned was simple; and the spell was learned in a matter of minutes.  Then it was just a case of seeing the place in your head you were going to, triggering the magic with the spell and thinking yourself there.  Applying it was more difficult though.  There was the danger of being splinched, which was apparently quite nasty, sort of ending up in two places at once.  Harry was a bit daunted by it at first, and also slightly irritated that Draco seemed to be a complete natural.  After half an hour, Draco could move a couple of hundred yards before Harry could even manage a few feet.  But when they split up, Harry began to make much better progress.

Draco went off with Dumbledore and Snape while Harry Apparated between Sirius and McGonagall over ever-increasing distances.  Each adult checked there had been no mishaps before moving further apart and allowing Harry to Apparate back to the other.  After a long session, both Harry and Draco were able to move over a distance of a couple of miles and the group met up at the Shrieking Shack just before dawn.  Dumbledore seemed pleased.

'Excellent.  We'll do some more tomorrow night, but I think you're both well on the way.  Now we will all Apparate to the castle gates and take an early breakfast.  Minerva, Severus, I think you must then get some sleep; it has been a long night.  I shall arrange for your classes to be supervised until this afternoon.  Harry, Draco, you two will also sleep, and without the aid of potion.  Progress, boys, progress.'

It was a strange group that trooped its way back up to the castle early that morning.  Snape and Dumbledore were at the front, talking in low voices about the Perceptivity Potion and the next direction of Harry and Draco's education.  Sirius and McGonagall followed, discussing how exactly the double transfiguration might have been achieved.  Finally Harry and Draco brought up the rear, not really talking about anything, but lost in the wonder of what the previous day had brought.

Harry felt at ease enough to grasp Draco's hand, and the two walked closely side by side so the others couldn't see.

At the castle steps, the group assembled again in the half-light of dawn, but just as Dumbledore was about to speak, there was the sound of a distant roar and all eyes looked skywards.  After a little while Harry recognised the shape of the motorbike looming into view above the lake, and then it was right above them, circling over the group assembled on the steps to the castle.  Dobby was waving frantically, obviously hugely pleased with something.

'Oh look,' cried Draco.  'It's Robin and the bat.'

'Batman and Robin, you tit', corrected Harry lovingly.

Dumbledore immediately left them and hurried over to Hagrid's hut, calling back over his shoulder that they should breakfast without him.

'I wonder where on earth they've been?' Draco pondered.

***

'Draco's alright, when it comes down to it,' Ron mused.

'Changed our tune, haven't we?' teased Hermione, as they sat in the common room after breakfast.

'I mean,' continued Ron, ignoring her, 'he loves Harry.  It's written all over his face.  I don't have any sense that he's going to do anything evil.  Don't you get the feeling that Harry is totally safe with him?'

'Yes, I do.  In fact, safer than he has been for ages.  Funny.'

'What's funny?'

'How we ended up here.  Just a few weeks ago, before that lesson with the fauns, life was as we have always known it. Now, it's as we shall know it forever more.  We'll never be able to think of Harry without thinking of Draco.'

'I think I can live with that.  Wonder what mum and dad will think though.'

'At least your mum and dad will understand the Crimson Cloud.  What's the rest of the world going to think?'

Ron's eyes glinted.  'Oh...!'

'What?'

'The Crimson Cloud!  That's why the air in the room was red last night.  Oh God, they'd been shagging hadn't they?'

'Ron!  You could have put it a bit less yobbishly.'

'Sorry!  But you're not denying it, are you?  Bloody hell!  Harry and Draco at it like dogs on heat, and we walk in with chicken and ham pie.  Yick.  And talk about bad timing...'

'Dogs on heat?  We've no idea how, er, enthusiastic they were.  And anyway, I think they'd, er...finished, if it's any consolation.'

'It's not a consolation.  Absolutely not.  Oh my God, I can't believe it.'

'Oh get over it, Ron.  It was bound to happen sooner or later.'

'That's not what I mean!  It's just...'

'Just what?'

'I can't believe Harry lost his virginity before I did!  I honestly, truly, believed that would be the one thing I beat him in!'

Hermione's face cracked into an irrepressible smile.  'Oh Ron!' she laughed.

'What?'

'Nothing.'

'No, go on, what's so flippin' funny?'

'Well, it's just comforting, I suppose.'

'Eh?'

'It's great that the only issue you have with Harry and Draco er...being enthusiastic with each other, is that you didn't get to do it first!'

'Herm!  I certainly don't want to do whatever they got up to!'

'That's not what I meant, and you know it,' laughed Hermione.  'And anyway, it's not a race!'

'That's easy for you to say.  You're not the only Weasley brother left to cross that bridge.'

'What?' goggled Hermione.  'Fred?  George?  When did that happen?  Who with?'

'Sorry, family secrets,' smirked Ron.

'And...PERCY?'

Ron laughed for a long time, smiling at Hermione.  'There's certainly a story to tell you there!'

'When?  When do I get to hear it?'

'Oh, I don't know.  I can't betray the secrets of the Weasleys.'

'It's this bloody Boys' Code of Ethics again, isn't it?  Oh well, I shall just have to ask Ginny.'

'Ha!  You don't think Ginny knows do you?  She'd be horrified if she knew what we talk about.'

'Well, then I'll have to ask Harry to get it out of you.'

'Harry already knows.  He's an honorary Weasley, remember?  And no way will he tell you.'

'I bet he will.'

'I bet he won't.  He's still bound by the terms of the Code, whatever he gets up to in bed.'

Hermione smiled.  'OK, I give in.  Gracefully.  Keep your secrets.  For now.'

'What do you mean, for now?'

'I'm sure I can get you to tell me somehow.'  She leaned across and kissed him gently on his forehead.

Ron blushed a fierce red, and the bell rang for the start of lessons.

***

On reaching their room in the hospital wing, there was a distinct feeling of anticlimax for both Harry and Draco.

'Well,' said Harry flatly.

'Yeah, I know,' Draco nodded.

'What is there to do now?'

'Exactly.  Just bed, I guess.'

'I mean, we're Potions geniuses.'

'You bet.  Willow Sap?  Easy.'

'And we set a world record for Charms.'

'Seven?  Nothing.  I expect we'll do eight next time.  And Harry, total Transfiguration wunderkinds, don't forget.'

'Yes indeed.  I'm used to being a wunderkind, mind.  It must be nice for you though,' grinned Harry.

'Blimey.  Where did that attitude suddenly come from?'

'Er...perhaps from the ability to Apparate underage?'

'Oh yes.  That'll be it.  And...' added Draco slyly.

'And what?'

'Well, even better than all of those put together...'

'What?'

Draco smiled warmly.  'We're not virgins anymore.'

Harry sniggered.  'What makes you think I was one before?' he asked, kissing Draco's neck lightly as they undressed for bed.

'Oh please,' yawned Draco.  'Don't tell me you're the Casanova of Gryffindor tower, because I simply refuse to believe it.  You were as innocent as a young puppy.  Never even been kissed, let alone...'

'Neither had you, you git.  You couldn't even get my shirt off without a right fuss.'

'Well, sure.  There's some work to be done on the basics, I agree. Shirts can be tricky, especially baggy old things like you wear.'

'Silk shirts aren't any easier, you know.  They can be all slippy.  Remember that next time you put one on.'

'You mean you want me to start wearing items that are easily removable, just for your convenience?'

Harry giggled.  'Would you do that for me?'

'Oh yes.  That and more.  As long as they're stylish, and expensive, I'll wear whatever shirts you want.'

'I think I prefer you without a shirt, to be honest,' blushed Harry.

'What, you mean, like this?' Draco laughed, as he slipped his shirt off and tossed it onto the other bed.

'Yes.  Exactly like that,' smiled Harry.

'Gosh, Harry.  Demanding, aren't you?'

'I could demand a whole lot more, you know,' Harry whispered.

'Like what?'

'Like, maybe I prefer you without jeans as well.'

'What, without these jeans?'  Draco looked Harry straight in the eye as he pointed downwards with both hands. 

'Er, yes.  They're definitely the offending ones.'

'Have you any idea how much they cost?  And you just want me to cast them off, as if a mere nothing?' 

'Pretty much, yes.'

'Well, I take your point,' said Draco, unbuckling his belt.  'But only if you get rid of those ghastly things you call jeans as well.'

'Right.  They're pretty bad, I know.  I can't help it if most of my clothes are hand-me-downs from my stupid obese cousin.'

'Sure you can.  You've got a vault full of gold, remember?  Why not buy yourself some gear that fits properly?'

'Er, well...'

'Well what?'

'I hate shopping.'

Draco staggered slightly.  'You hate shopping?'

'Got it in one, Sherlock.'

'Who?'

'No matter.  Besides, my aunt would wonder where I'd got it all from.  She thinks I'm penniless.'

'Penniless?'

'Not a Knut.'

'She doesn't know about your parents' cash?'

'Good God no.  She'd claim it all in compensation for having to have me sleep in their understairs cupboard.'

'Weeping as I am for this image of the young Potter growing up in Muggle penury, I still can't get over the fact that you hate shopping.'

'It's true.  Facing Unthinkable Danger, Shopping With Aunt Petunia, I know which I'd take every time.'

'Ah.  How about shopping with someone else?'

'Like who?'

'Like someone who had a ton more taste than you?'

'Sounds intriguing.  Can you think of someone?'

'Perhaps, although the sight of those clothes is stopping me considering the matter clearly.'

'Oh.  Best get them off then.'

'Sounds good.  Scrawny you may be, and a bit on the rumpled side, but I can't help thinking you're going to look streets better without them.'

'Blimey. Demanding, aren't you?'

'Oh yes, Harry.  Yes, I am.  And I could demand a whole lot more.'

'Such as?'  Harry stepped out of his jeans so they both stood facing each other in just their boxers.

'New underwear.  For you that is.  You look ridiculous in those.  There's room for two in there; it's a wonder they don't fall off.'

'Two?'

'Definitely.'

'Two?  Are you sure?'

'Absolutely.  I'd bet on it.'

'How much?'

'What?'

'How much money do you bet that there is room for two people in these boxers?'

'Oh.  I wouldn't bet anything as vulgar as money.'

'What would you bet then?'

'Something far more interesting.  Like, if I'm wrong, I'll buy you some new underwear.  If I'm right, you have to pay for it.  But, whichever, I get to choose it.'

'Oh.  So you'll be my new shopping partner then?'

'Nobody else up to the task, I reckon.'

'Hmmm.  You may be right.  Hermione's good on books, and Ron's great on brooms, but...underwear?  I think you just got yourself a job.'

'Good-oh.'

'Bet's off though.'

'Why?'

'You're absolutely right.  I'm not betting against that.  There's definitely room for two in here,' said Harry, stretching the waistband of the tatty grey boxers out about a foot away from his body.

Draco peered downwards.  'Oh yes.  At least two.  Although, there's a little bit less room in there than there would be ordinarily.'

'Only a little bit less?'

Draco laughed.  'Even I'm not rising to that one, Harry.'

'Rubbish.  I can see you rising at this very moment.'

'Well, I can't help it.  It's those boxers.  They're strangely disquieting.'

'Oh.  Perhaps I'd better remove them then.  Pass me my pyjamas.'

'No point.'

'Why not?'

'Because I'm going to have you out of them in under five minutes.'

'Five?  Make it two.'

'Crikey.  Demanding, aren't you?'

***

They'd had an odd sort of day.  After the mad events of the weekend, coming face to face with the mundane again had left them both a bit flat, even allowing for the increasingly physical nature of their relationship.  Madam Pomfrey had woken them at lunchtime, thrown something of a small fit to find them sleeping without pyjamas, and then demanded that they start behaving like real students again.

'Lunch,' she fumed, 'will be served at lunchtime.  And it will be consumed, not pushed around the plates to make it look less.'

Harry looked rather guilty.

'Sleep,' she continued fiercely, 'will be had at nighttime.  Clad in suitable nightwear.  I refuse to have you two lazing around like a pair of decadent playboys.'

Draco opened his mouth, but before whatever retort he had planned was even begun, Harry had nudged him and Pomfrey was off again.

'Supper,' she went on, really warming to her theme now, 'will be served in the evening, not at midnight or whenever you feel like it.  And I am going to start limiting your constant stream of guests at meal times.  The whole point of your being here is to rest and recover appetites and sleeping patterns.  Having Weasley and Granger hang around is not doing any good.'

Harry looked a little upset.  He loved having supper with the three people who meant more to him than anything.

'Breakfast', she crowed, 'will be--'

'Served in the morning?' supplied Draco, innocently.  'Good plan, I say.  Don't you think, Harry?'

She looked at the pair of them.  They were both struggling not to laugh, and suddenly she softened, sighing deeply.

'I cannot wait until you two are out of here,' she conceded good-naturedly.  'But until that glorious day arrives, I want you to try and instil some order back into your lives.  If not, I am simply going to get Professors McGonagall and Snape to instil it for you.'

'Er, I think we'd rather do it your way,' Harry muttered.

'Good.  You can start with getting up and dressed, eating lunch, and not considering returning to bed until at least 10pm tonight.  You would have thought with all your abilities that you could manage at least that.'

In the afternoon, McGonagall had had them taking notes on the most boring stuff imaginable, which they supposed related to the Animagus transformation (although it was difficult to see how) and Snape had requested that they write out dozens and dozens of Potions procedures, with no aim whatsoever, it seemed, other than to keep them busy.

'This is worse that being in lessons,' groaned Harry as he scribbled messily on a piece of parchment.

'Your writing's awful,' said Draco matter-of-factly, admiring his own tidy script.  'Look how neat mine is.'

'That's not neat, that's anal,' said Harry, trying not to envy the easy grace of Draco's fast and elegant hand.  'Bloody Hell!'

'What?' asked Draco, alarmed.

'You're a Leftie!  Why didn't I notice that before?'

Draco sniffed.  'Perhaps because you're not very perceptive.  And anyway, my mother says that left handed people are individual and artistic, with huge flair and creativity, and that I should be pleased not to be the same as everyone else.'

'Bollocks,' stated Harry.  'That's just a myth perpetuated by parents of Lefties.  All Righties know the truth:  Lefties are misfits and loners, they quite often spend too long shopping and obsessing over their hair, and very often they over-compensate for their whole Leftiness by developing a script which they think of as individual, but which all Righties can see in a flash is just prissy, anal and a bit poncy.'

Draco's eyes opened wide in astonishment, and then grinned as he saw Harry laughing silently at his outrage.

'Well, I'd rather have my style than yours.  Look at it.'

They both stared at Harry's scroll.

'What, for example, does that word say?' enquired Draco.

'Er, passion,' said Harry.  'As in passion-flower.  Obviously.  Look, there's the P, and double S, quite clear.'

'What about that one, then?'

'Steam, of course,' replied Harry.  'Are you blind?'

'And this one?'

'Er, hot...'

'Ah.  You sure that's Potions you're doing there?  Sounds a bit seedy to me.'

Something changed in the air between them, as they caught each other's eyes.  Harry realised Draco had been able to read his script all the time.

'Are you trying to make some sort of suggestion?'

'Yes,' said Draco, eyes glinting.

Potions were forgotten for a while.

As soon as Sirius stepped into their little kingdom, later that afternoon, Harry knew exactly what he was going to say.  There was just something about the look in his eye that Harry recognised immediately.

'You're going away, aren't you?' Harry accused, before Sirius had even spoken.

'Harry,' said Sirius softly.  'Grab the Cloak.  We're going out for a walk.'

Draco was instantly distressed.

'Can I come too?' he asked in a tiny voice, cursing himself for such a pathetic whine even as he said it.

'Nothing personal, Draco, I assure you.  I just want to talk to my godson before I have to leave.  We won't be long, I promise.'

'But...if he's...I can't...'

'Sirius, he gets all...if, you know, if I'm...'

'Have you two suddenly lost the power of speech?'

Harry looked at Draco, and then went over to him, and hugged him tightly.  There were so many things that now made him realise how much he loved Draco, and this aspect of their relationship was probably the one that made him ache inside more than any of the others.  'We won't be long, I promise,' he whispered into Draco's neck.  'Just hang on.  And when I get back, we can have a snuggly ten minutes in bed, whatever Pomfrey thinks.  And remember that for every second that I'm out of this room, I'll be thinking of you and looking forward to getting back.  OK?  OK, Draco, my love?'  The phrase 'my love', sat unfamiliarly on Harry's lips, but he used it all the same, and Draco appreciated this gesture as much as any Harry had made over the previous days.  Harry could feel that Draco was imperceptibly calmed by this, and offered another, bigger gesture to convince Draco that he meant what he said.

It had never been a secret of course, how could it have been?  None of the Inner Circle were under any delusions about what exactly the nature of Harry and Draco's relationship was.  Hell, this was the Crimson Cloud, after all.  But aside from being seen to sleep next to each other, they had never allowed anything more personal to be witnessed by anyone else.  And now Harry thought that it was time for that to change, and he moved to kiss Draco, deeply, fully, lovingly, with Sirius standing just feet away.  The anxiety in Draco ebbed further as Harry put body and soul into that kiss, just to show, to try and prove, that he would be back, and that he wanted to be back as much as Draco didn't want him to leave.

Sirius was not fazed, rather, he looked on unembarrassed.  There was so much of James in Harry that it was nearly heart-breaking to watch, but watch he did, knowing instinctively that this kiss was important actually because of his own presence.  His mind ventured back years, probing memories that he preferred not to explore, but the grief he felt at the loss of James and Lily was always so much more acute when he was with Harry.

How proud they would have been for him.  How much they would have rejoiced in his happiness.  Sirius recalled watching James kiss Lily like this, many, many times, regardless of where they were or who they were with, because they too had experienced a love that had overflowed into all that surrounded them.  The painful feelings triggered in him by the symmetry of this couple in front of him and the friends he could never have back were almost overpowering.  He would be proud for Harry now; he would rejoice in Harry and Draco's happiness.  Harry couldn't know those things from his own parents.  Sirius knew that he would have to supply them himself, and that he wanted to, and that he couldn't not give them if he tried.

Harry and Draco separated eventually, and Harry rocked back on his heels.

Just a tiny movement, but one which sent another aching stab through Sirius.  James used to do that.  It was something he would never have remembered, never.  Perhaps he had never even consciously noticed it when James and Lily were alive.  But seeing it there and then, seeing Harry being so overwhelmed by the emotions of a kiss that he tilted slightly away as if knocked by a breeze, Sirius had to turn away to blink back tears.  Years and years worth of tears, that nearly ripped him open right then; all because the son of his closest friends had so obviously found the same love that his parents had known, the same love that had caused Harry to exist at all.

He composed himself and beamed at the pair, who were eyeing him as nervously as couple of naughty boys caught scrumping apples.

Harry thought that Sirius's smile was more than a smile.  It was his permission.  It was his approval.  It was...his blessing.  And Harry knew at that moment how he could soothe Draco further.  It had to become official.  And only one person could make it so.

'Sirius,' croaked Harry.  'Er...I have something to say.'

Sirius remained silent.  He knew what was coming.  Draco didn't though.

'I'd like you to meet Draco Malfoy.  I love him, and...I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him.'

Draco was about to say, don't be silly - of course I know who he is - we've met before - we were talking while you were in a coma, and a dozen other things, but Sirius stepped forward and offered him his hand, and the true meaning of Harry's words became obvious.

He grasped Sirius's hand, firmly, masculinely, aware in that moment that he had to be true, that he mustn't seem the vain, arrogant, spoilt youth the world understood him to be, but that he had to be decent, and worthy.  And he also knew, that because of Harry, he was indeed becoming those things, and that he rejoiced in those changes.

'Pleased to meet you, sir,' he responded, in a clear, uncomplicated voice; one that Harry had not heard before.  'Your godson means the world to me.  I hope that you can be as happy for us as we are.'

Sirius nodded.  'I'm sure I shall be,' he smiled warmly.

Then the odd formality of the moment was over, and Sirius pulled them both towards him and hugged them both at once.  Draco was hit with a thousand thoughts at once.  How wonderful of Harry to have done this for him.  How great Sirius was.  How much he wanted to be truly worthy of Harry.  How much he loved Harry, how miserable he would be without him.  How much he had changed, life had changed, in the last few weeks.

And.  How much he dreaded the return to the Slytherin dormitories, whenever that would happen.  How little he now had in common with his Slytherin "friends", and how impossible it would now be to go back to them, even if he should want to.  How ridiculous it was to imagine that a twin scene to this one would ever be possible.  How desperately unlikely it was that he would ever get the chance to say, proudly, Mother, this is Harry Potter, I love him and I'm going to spend the rest of my life with him. 

Could he ever have Harry to dine at his own home, to sleep with him in his own bed?  Were parents going to be completely absent in both of their lives, for all time?  Were Sirius and the Weasleys the closest he would ever get to an extended family?   Was there even any guarantee that the rest of Weasleys would accept him at all?

Draco knew that he was going to cry, and he didn't care.  But he just managed to delay his tears until Harry and Sirius had left the room.

Just.

***

The two of them sat back in the most comfortable armchairs in the office.  The fire glimmered delicately in the hearth, sending a magical warmth right through to the bones of those lucky enough ever to get to relax in those chairs.  They had reached a comfortable silence in their talk.  It was approaching midnight.

'I can't tell you how much I have appreciated your being here over these last couple of weeks,' said Dumbledore eventually.  'I am sure the transition for Harry has been all the easier for your presence.'

'And I'm grateful for the terrible risks you have gone to in allowing me to be here, Albus.  But as we both know, matters outside this magical place demand that I return as soon as possible.'

Sirius took a sip of his whiskey.

'Actually I think Harry has coped extremely well,' he offered after a while.  'It's Draco I am more concerned about.  His dependence on Harry seems to be absolute.  Harry and I went out for a walk this afternoon, just to say goodbye, and Draco was disturbingly distressed at the prospect of having to be apart from him, even for a short while.'

'How long were you out with Harry?'

'Not long, about an hour, maybe a little more.'

'And what was Draco's mood when you got back?'

'I don't know.  I didn't go back with Harry; I thought it best not to be present when they were reunited.'

Dumbledore smiled.  'You are a fine godfather to that boy, Sirius.  I only hope you don't end up having to be godfather to both of them.'

'What about Lucius, then?' asked Sirius after a while.  'And Narcissa?  What do you honestly think their reaction will be?'

'Not one of joy, I am guessing,' mused the Headmaster.  'It will all depend on whether their love of their son is greater than their love of...other things.  And I have no way of knowing.  Perhaps only Draco himself knows.  Perhaps not even him.'

The fire crackled unexpectedly and Fawkes ruffled his feathers in appreciation.  Light shimmered briefly all around the room, and then was still again.

'Have you seen the book?'  Sirius's voice was soft, yet concerned.

'No.  It's in the school vault at Gringotts.  But Hagrid has seen it.  He looked through it before he left it there.  He says that it's more or less exactly as you remember it, in fact most of the pages were full.  But he only leafed through it; he said it was too painful to look at.'

'What do you think we should do with it?'

'To be honest, I had no plans for it beyond removing it from Malfoy Manor.'  He paused.  'What do you think we should do with it?' he asked eventually.

'It belongs to Harry, and nobody else.  It's his decision what happens to it. I think we should give it to him.'

'You're probably right.  But I shall certainly want to examine it myself before exposing him to it.  And I am concerned that Harry is still so emotionally vulnerable.  Even if it is not a danger to him, such a strong reminder of James and Lily could be overwhelming.  It could set him back weeks.'

'I've worried about that as well.  But I think we'd be underestimating Harry if we thought that.  I know we are all naturally protective of him, but think of what he has already faced and how he has left us stunned at his resilience.  He has a right to that book, and I think he should have it.'

'How, though?'  Dumbledore seemed as old as he had ever looked to Sirius, the lines on his face set in sharp relief by the flickering of the fire, the wisps of smoke from his pipe giving him a vague and hazy outline.  'How?  At what time?  With what explanation?'  His questions were rhetorical, an old man thinking aloud.

But Sirius answered him.

'There's only one person this should come from, if the book is to be formally returned.  Give it to Draco to decide the best way for Harry to receive it.  He knows Harry better than anyone now.'

Dumbledore nodded silently, slowly.  It was a nod of agreement, of sad reservation, of distant regret.  But he knew Sirius was right.

'That would have to be handled very sensitively,' he added.  'It would be difficult for Draco, considering where the book has come from.'

They lapsed into silence again.

'I shall speak to Draco sometime before the end of term,' Dumbledore said.  'And I shall send Hagrid to fetch it after he has seen the students onto the Hogwarts Express.  And then we shall see.  And we shall have to hope that it does not distress Draco as much as it could upset Harry.  But you are right, you are right.  It is the only way.'

Sirius removed the old man's pipe from his hand when he realised he had drifted off to sleep.

He took one last look around, thinking of the events of the last few weeks.  Harry was as secure as any of them had a right to expect, he was sure.

Other matters required his attention now.  He drained his whiskey and reluctantly left the security of the chairs, and of the fire, and of the school.