United In Death

I feel like this won’t go away

No matter how hard I try

To squeeze my eyes shut so I can’t see

The pain in you this pain in me

Staind-Take it

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Harry pushed off the ground hard, as usual all of his feelings-his confusion, anger, and misery-were left on the ground and the simple joy of just being in the air, free as a bird, was all that was left.

He had explained to the whole common room about the blood and apologized for scaring everyone. Then he had sprinted upstairs to his private dormitory-all prefects got their own-changed into his Quidditch robes, grabbed his broom and ran downstairs with Ron to the pitch where the others were waiting for them.

Harry apologized again for being late and briefed the team on what they would be practising through the session.

Harry swooped and dove through the other players, his keen eyes keeping an eye out for the snitch.

He had just circled around Ginny and ducked a bludger when something out of the corner of his eye made him turn his head.

The Slytherin team were standing on the pitch below in their green and silver Quidditch robes.

They were sneering up at the Gryffindors and yelling insults.

“Yeah and a Flobber worm will be taking your place on the team Weasley ‘cos it’s so much better than you!”

Cold anger filtered through Harry’s veins as he flew into land on the firm ground.

In the half-light of sunset he was a menacing figure, tall with sleek, firm muscles showing clearly under his robes. His handsome face was in shadow as he turned to face the Slytherins, but his incredible eyes shone like two angry green stars.

As the rest of the Gryffindors landed behind him the laughter died from the Slytherins lips and they stared at Harry with growing fear.

The only one who didn’t seem affected by Harry’s rage was Draco, who sauntered forward, closing the distance between him and Harry until their chests were almost touching.

“Ohhhh, I’m so scared of you Potter.” Draco sneered nastily.

“Leave. Now. Malfoy.” Harry voice was quiet but the deadly undertone was all too clear.

All the birds in the Forbidden forest singing their dusk song froze, the crickets all stopped in mid crick. Silence descended over the Hogwarts ground until the only sound left was the gentle song of the wind whispering over the grass and out over the dark trees.

Still Draco didn’t seem fazed and he drew his wand out of his pocket, twirling it deliberately in front of Harry’s face.

“Make me Potter.” He drawled.

Harry drew his own wand; his emerald eyes never leaving Draco’s silver one’s.

The two Quidditch teams backed quickly to the stands where they stopped to watch. This looked like it was going to be serious.

Harry and Draco deliberately turned and walked away from each other until they were roughly twenty feet apart, then they turned to face one another, wand’s raised.

The magical floodlights-which were charmed to come on if anyone was on the pitch once the sun had set-suddenly came flooding on, filling the pitch with golden light.

As if the floodlights were a signal Draco swung his warn up and pointed it viscously at Harry.

“Gelare!” He screamed and shot a freezing charm at Harry, who easily blocked it.

“Rictusempra!” The raven-haired boy shouted back at Draco, and this time Draco blocked it.

Meanwhile Hermione who had agreed to meet Ron and Harry down at the Quidditch pitch once she had finished her charms homework, had arrived at the stands to see the Gryffindor team on the sidelines of her side of the pitch and the Slytherin team on the other, and on the pitch itself.

Hermione blinked and then ran over to Ron who was watching the duel with a tight face.

“What’s going on Ron?” Hermione asked furiously. Ron answered without taking his eyes off the duel, which was getting nastier and nastier.

“Malfoy pushed Harry too far so they’re duelling.”

Hermione looked at Draco and Harry. Even from the sidelines she could see the sweat running down both boys faces.

“They’ve duelled before but never this badly, did Malfoy say something really nasty?”

Ron winced as Draco sent a hex at Harry that almost knocked the raven-haired boy off his feet.

“Malfoy’s always really nasty, but he wasn’t too bad actually, in fact he really didn’t seem to be putting his heart into it like he usually does.”

Hermione was watching the two boys on the pitch closely. Harry had just sent a hex at Draco that should have reduced the blond to a pile of ash.

“Is it me or are they slowing down?” She asked Ron quietly.

“Huh?” Was the reply she got. Hermione bristled.

“The hexes they’re saying are one step away from being dark magic but the pauses in between are getting longer and longer. Watch.”

Ron did watch and saw that Hermione was perfectly right. Harry and Malfoy (he refused to think of him as Draco) were taking longer and longer to throw hexes at each other, and when they did it looked like they really had to concentrate to get the words out. What was going on?

Harry felt sweat running down his back and his Quidditch robes were sticking to him.

He’d never duelled this badly with Malfoy before, and it was like each of them was trying to take out his frustration on the other by blowing them to bits.

He blocked a hex, which would have successfully dissolved all the bones in his legs.

Harry quickly decided on a hex to send back at Draco. Once he had picked one it was the matter of getting himself to say it. It had started off small, like an itch in the back of his throat then it had spread through the whole of his jaw. Each time he opened his mouth his tongue fought to say something else.

He angrily dashed some raven-black hair out of his emerald green eyes and stared at Draco. He looked no better than Harry felt. Sweat ran down his pale face, his hair was messed and his silver grey eyes were confused, angry and tired all at the same time.

Harry opened his mouth just as Draco did and suddenly the words his jaw had been trying to say took full control over his mouth. He couldn’t resist, no matter how hard he tried.

“Fatum!” They both shouted at the same time.

White light erupted from the ends of their wands and flew towards each other. When they hit they formed a ball of intense white brilliance and lightning.

Harry and Draco stared at it bewildered, so did the rest of their teams and Hermione.

The ball changed from white to gold with the speed of a whip crack. It then dimmed, shrank a little, and then burst outwards in two powerful bolts of golden lightning, which struck Draco and Harry cleanly through the heart.

A warm shockwave blew the hair back off everyone’s faces as they watched the frozen figures of Draco and Harry standing there looking horrified at the lightning playing into their bodies.

As fast as it had started it was over.

The light seemed to be sucked back into the ball in the centre of the lightning and vanished.

Darkness descended on the Quidditch pitch-the spell had destroyed the charm on the floodlights.

Harry and Draco stood without moving a muscle for all of two seconds for all of two seconds. Then, neither making a sound, they collapsed softly onto the lush grass.

The teams ran forwards to their fallen captains and saw a faint gold line running from Harry’s heart to Draco’s. Then it faded into nothingness and the normal sounds of the evening came flooding back, birds making their last calls, crickets chirping happily in the grass and the soft flutter of owls gliding overhead, heading out over the forest in search of breakfast.

When Hermione reached Harry with the rest of the team her heart wrenched with fear as she saw blood, black in the moonlight, soaking into Harry’s red and gold robes around his chest.

As she bent down to try and asses the damage without bursting into tears teachers began flooding onto the pitch, looking around with wands raised.

Professor McGonagall saw the Gryffindor team crowded anxiously around someone lying on the grass and trotted smartly over.

Pushing the other Gryffindors aside she looked down at Hermione franticly trying to revive the unconscious blood soaked Harry and felt the colour drain from her face.

“My goodness, what happened?”

She calmly removed Hermione from Harry’s side and gently took the boys pulse.

“Still alive but barely.”

Swiftly she conjured up a stretcher and set off with Harry up to the castle.

Ron turned and saw that Snape was doing the same thing with Malfoy.

Dumbeldore stepped forward, looking at the miserable Gryffindors and Slytherins. He smiled kindly at them.

“I know this is hard, but please could one of you tell me what happened. What set off the alarms? I assume that Harry and Draco did something in that fierce duel they were having, hmmmmm?”

Hermione could have hit herself; she hadn’t stopped to think what had brought every teacher in the school down to the Quidditch pitch the moment Harry and Malfoy collapsed. Briefly she explained to Dumbeldore what had happened since she had arrived. When she got to the bit where they had both shouted the same word and the ball of lightning had appeared Dumbeldores eyes had widened but he didn’t say anything until she’d finished.

Everyone waited tensely in front of their headmaster, hoping he would tell them what happened, but he was silent and eventually Ron could be silent no longer.

“Professor what was it that did that to Harry and Malfoy?”

The headmaster was silent a few moments longer, sharp eyes staring at the Quidditch pitch as if he could still see the duelling boys.

“Destiny.” He said quietly then turned and started to make his way back up towards the castle, silver hair gleaming in the moonlight.

The teams stared after him completely baffled, but Hermione was biting her lip and looking thoughtful.

Professor Lupin stepped forward now, his eyes were heavy with worry and he had already planned to owl Sirius the moment he got back to his office.

“Now now, Harry and Mr Malfoy will be fine, there’s no point in worrying yourself sick over what happened and I suggest that you make your way back to your common rooms and bed. Come on now, it’s too dangerous for you all to be out here after dark.”

He began ushering the dazed students up to the castle and when they got inside he sent the Slytherins down the passageway to their House and the Gryffindors up the marble staircase to theirs.

Remus Lupin then turned and rubbing his temples where a nasty headache was starting, strode off to his comfy office to owl Sirius about Harry.

By breakfast the next morning everyone knew that the two worst enemies in the school had almost killed each other duelling and were now lying unconscious in the hospital wing.

Everyone in the hall kept on glancing at the empty places at the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables.

Every now and again a Ravenclaw or Huffelpuff would stand up and walk over to the Gryffindor table to ask what happened.

They were never told much and usually went away just as curious as when they had first gone over.

Nobody went over to the Slytherin table.

Harry was floating in a warm, black pool of velvet.

It was so comfortable.

He didn’t want to open his eyes in case the comfort went away.

There was a firm, almost relaxing thumping sound surrounding his cradled body and it took him a while to realise that it was his heart beating.

He took comfort in this as well and just lay there in the velvety warmth, soaking up the sound of his steadily beating, strong heart.

But after a few minutes a wiggle of doubt wormed its way into the back of his peaceful mind.

Was that just his heart beating? He could almost swear there was another heartbeat underneath, perfectly matching the rhythm of his own.

The harder Harry listened the more he was sure.

After an hour or so (he couldn’t be sure as time seemed to have no meaning in this place) he could defiantly hear the other heartbeat without even having to strain to listen. He needed to see where it was coming from, somehow it was important, he just knew it.

Slowly, ever so slowly he tightened the muscles around his eyes and millimetre by painful millimetre he began to open them.

At first there was only blackness, then there was a flash of deep red.

Harry turned and saw a red pulse was beating in time to the rhythm of his and the others heartbeat.

A sudden prickling at the back of his neck made him suddenly spin around, emerald eyes flashing. Then his mouth dropped open as Draco Malfoy stared at him with equal shock.

“No!” Harry yelled and leapt backwards.

The darkness and Draco Malfoy blurred in front of his eyes and suddenly he was falling, falling through a riot of colour and noise.

He hit something hard and then there was darkness.

Draco Malfoy opened his eyes and stared blankly at the white washed ceiling above him.

Well that had been………interesting. He mused mildly then looked around him.

He was in the infirmary. Sunlight was washing through the window, and he could see a crystal clear, sharp sky outside.

The only other person in the ward except him was lying in the bed to his right.

Draco looked closer at the young man and saw to his shock that it was Potter. He looked so different without his glasses on that Draco hardly recognised him. The pale blond boy studied Harry’s face for a few minutes. Why Potter’s cheekbones had to be as high as his own! The glasses had somehow hidden them. His eyes were closed but Draco could tell that they would be huge when opened, (Draco had always hoped that Harry’s glasses magnified the size of his eyes.) His face was a little harder, definitely less geeky. And, Draco decided after a few moments inner struggle, a lot more attractive, maybe even beautiful.

Damn, if Potter got rid of his glasses Draco would have some hard competition for the girls. Then again it might be invigorating having someone of his own calibre to compete against for once.

Without realising what the hell he was doing he found his wand on the cabinet beside his bed, pointed it at Potter’s face and muttered a few words under his breath. A jet of blue light shot from the end of his wand and hit Harry in the eyes.

“OW! Jesus Christ!” Harry bellowed and bolted upright, both hands covering his eyes.

Draco grinned mercilessly, that was the other reason why he’d done the spell, because it hurt so much without causing lasting damage.

“I’m blind!” Harry wailed keeping his eyes shut tight. Draco snorted loudly.

“Try opening your eyes idiot.” He sniggered.

Harry gasped and opened his eyes, spinning around in his now very messy bed to stare at Draco.

Draco’s eyes caught a flash of silver on Harry’s left ear and he instantly focused on it. It was a small, silver dragon fang. Potter had his ear pierced! Draco immediately felt jealous, as he had been wanting to get his ear pierced since he was thirteen but hadn’t been allowed. He was angry that he hadn’t noticed it before and that it looked so damn good on Potter!

Harry was staring at Draco as if he’d never seen him before in his life.

“What?” Draco sneered.

“I can see you.” Harry mumbled utterly bewildered, Draco burst out laughing.

“Of course you can see me, I am after all veerrrryyyy attractive.”

This time it was Harry who sneered. Draco was startled that such a look could cross Harry’s face.

“Don’t flatter yourself Malfoy. I meant I can see you without my glasses.”

Draco stared at Harry coldly.

“You can see because I healed your eyes. You never need glasses again. But don’t get any ideas Potter I only did it because I wanted to be able to punch you in the face without the risk of stabbing my hand.”

Harry was staring again, a look of complete confusion on his tanned face. He opened his mouth.

“Ah, you two are finally awake.”

Madame Pomfrey bustled over and began administering to them.

“Potter where are your glasses?” She asked as she took Harry’s temperature. He scowled and pointed at Draco.

“He healed my eyes, I don’t need them anymore.”

Madame Pomfrey turned and gave Draco a hard look, who stared back at her so innocently that Harry had to smother a laugh.

“That was very dangerous, what if you’d done something wrong and Harry had been blinded?”

“I knew what I was doing.” Draco muttered sulkily. Madame Pomfrey tisked and turned back to Harry who was still choking from trying not to laugh.

“Shirt off Potter.” It was Draco’s turn to smother a laugh as all the colour drained from Harry’s face.

“W-what?” The raven-haired boy spluttered. Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes heavenwards.

“I need to check your wound has healed properly, and don’t you dare laugh Malfoy, you’re next.”

Draco’s laugh was chocked off and he looked quite horrified.

Harry meanwhile had undone his pyjama top and pulled it off, revealing his sleek, muscular body. Draco stared. When had Potter gotten a body like that! The last time Draco had looked Harry had been a short, skinny boy. Now here he was a tall, very handsome young man with a perfect body and pierced ear. Definitely big competition here.

Outside Draco’s head Madame Pomfrey had been running her wand over Harry’s body. Now she stepped back.

“You’re fine dear.” She said briskly and turned to Draco a no-nonsense glint in her eyes.

“Your turn now Malfoy.” She snarled. “Come on now shirt off.”

Draco grudgingly unbuttoned his pyjama top and pulled it off, feeling the soft material slide over his skin. Under his breath he muttered a hiding charm so his scars wouldn’t be visible. When he looked down at himself and saw unmarked and unblemished skin he was relieved it had worked.

Harry’s jaw dropped, he was halfway through pulling his top back on.

“Blimey Malfoy, I always thought you were skin and bone, not muscle.”

Draco turned his own toned body towards Harry and regarded the raven-haired boy through silver eyes with one eyebrow raised.

“Well you gave me a bit of a shock yourself. How’d you get so fit?”

Harry shrugged, embarrassed.

“Well you know Professor Chang. The Chinese guy who took over from Professor Binns when the old ghost found out his unfinished business was to have fun and finally moved on.”

“Yeah, I’ll never forget Binns doing cartwheels down the staff table at the Halloween feast. Course I know Chang, you and Hermione aren’t the only people who hasn’t dropped History of Magic.”

Madame Pomfrey leaned forward and started running her wand over Draco’s body as she had done to Harry.

“Um, he’s muggle born so he knows martial arts, it’s a type of muggle fighting. He’s been teaching them to me for about two years now.”

“Really?” Said Draco, genuinely interested.

“Yeah.” Muttered Harry then grinned as an idea occurred to him.

“And if you ever try to fight with me again Malfoy I will totally kick your ass!” Which doesn’t explain why I’ve not been able to wipe the floor with him before now.

Draco grinned back.

“What makes you think Professor Chang hasn’t been teaching me martial arts as well?” Well that explains why he’s still been able to beat me in fights. I was starting to think that Chang’s training was useless.

Harry’s jaw dropped yet again and Draco laughed, though not cruelly.

“Oh your face Potter! Father wrote to him and he’s been instructing me for the last year.”

“Does he make you go for the one hour jog every morning?”

“Yep, dunno why we’ve never bumped into each other. He’s been recently saying I’m not good enough to face his other pupil but I have to learn.”

Harry had clambered out of bed and was hopping around on the cold stone floor searching for his clothes.

“Blimey it’s cold! Yeah, he’s been saying to me that he’d like to introduce me to his other pupil.”

Draco watched as Harry found his jeans and shirt, which, much to Draco’s surprise was black.

“Potter, what do you think you’re doing?” A sharp voice snapped. Draco had to give Harry credit. He didn’t flinch at all.

“I’m getting changed Madame Pomfrey. You said yourself that I’m fine.”

Madame Pomfrey swept forward, a mountain of stern good will.

“You are still not fit enough to go back to the hustle and bustle of school life just yet Potter.”

Harry undid his blue-striped pyjama top again and pulled it off, revealing his sleek, golden brown body again and began pulling on his black shirt, totally ignoring Madame Pomfrey.

Draco was impressed although he didn’t let it show in his face. He’d always thought that Potter was a goodie-goodie, doing whatever the teachers told him.

Draco jumped out of bed and followed Harry’s open rebellion, finding his clothes and pulling off his pyjama top.

It was then, while Draco was half naked and Harry had his shirt unbuttoned, showing off his perfect body, that Colin Creevy and his gang of other 6^th and 5^th year Harry admirers burst into the room, probably to stare hungrily at the raven-haired boy until they were told to go away.

They came up short-so short in fact that Colin’s younger brother Dennis almost fell over-their eyes taking in the spectacular scene before them.

The two most gorgeous (and shaggable) guys in the school standing half naked next to each other while Madame Pomfrey shouted at them to get back into bed. Both were ignoring her, slouching comfortably at the ends of their beds, shoulders almost touching.

They turned identical glares on the gawping group of younger students staring goggle-eyed at them.

“Yes?” Harry said as patiently as he could manage. Colin Creevy stumbled forward, probably pushed by someone else.

“Alright Harry? We came to see how you were, you’ve had us all really worried being unconscious for two days.” He stared keenly at the tall, raven-haired older boy. “Harry, where are your glasses?”

Two days! Harry was shocked; he’d been out that long?

“Don’t need glasses any more, Malfoy healed my eyes. What’s the time?”

Colin eagerly told him it was almost nine o’clock on Saturday morning. Harry thanked him then told the group to go down to breakfast and that he’d join them shortly.

As they trooped out both Draco and Harry heard what the girls of the group were saying.

“God doesn’t he look so bloody sexy without his glasses!”

“Cor, I could eat them both covered in melted chocolate!”

“Just one of them with his shirt off is enough to make any girl faint, but both of them? That’s so hot it’s illegal!”

“I can die happily now. Ohhhhh I’ve got to tell everyone!”

The rest of their voices died away as Harry and Draco roared with laughter.

“So we’re illegal together are we Potter?” Harry laughed even louder at Draco’s play on words and finished off buttoning his shirt, then he grabbed his jeans and disappeared behind a handy curtain.

Once behind there Harry stopped smiling, he whispered “finite incantatum” under his breath and lifted his shirt to stare at his stomach to see if it had worked. It had, the scars were back, mockingly white against his tanned skin. Harry didn’t use to know how but he’d always managed to hide the scars from other people, even when he was unconscious. Now he knew it was a hiding charm, a very advanced magic, what he still didn’t know was how he did it while he was knocked out. Even Hermione and Ron didn’t know about the scars and he’d never told them the extent to which the Dursley’s used to beat him. Sometimes he was even hospitalised with smashed ribs, concussion, fractures, and countless of other injuries. The Dursley’s had always told the staff there that he was bullied at school so he was never put down for child abuse.

The charm was quite draining to keep up so he never used it once he had a shirt on.

As he pulled on his dark jeans he wondered why Malfoy had put the charm on himself just as he was taking off his top. Maybe he had something to hide as well. I’ll ask him one day, but not today, not today. With a sigh he walk out from behind the curtain.

Several minutes later both Harry and Draco were pulling on their boots.

Harry looked up and saw Madame Pomfrey standing there looking quite lost. He stood and glided over to her, taking her hand and kissing it. She jumped slightly but didn’t pull away.

“Thank you for taking such good care of us, we would stay but we don’t wish to impose on your kindness any longer. Anyway we’ve got lots of work to catch up on so we’ll be getting plenty of rest studying in the library all day.”

She nodded at the young man in front of her, a blush rising on her cheeks.

God, Draco thought, even the teachers are in love with him.

Harry straightened up, pocketed his wand that had been resting on the cabinet by his bed and walked over to Draco. Together they walked out of the hospital wing, cutting two dangerously dashing figures.

Draco was in shock. He was walking comfortably next to and talking cheerfully with his worst enemy and enjoying it! It was in fact the funniest and the most witty and interesting conversation he’d had in weeks! There was something wrong here. But then again he’d always enjoyed fighting with Potter because the guy was smart and fiery enough to make the fights interesting. He had in fact found himself more and more often these days idly wondering what it would be like to be friends with Potter, probably a lot of fun. None of Draco’s so-called friends would ever risk their lives for him like Granger and Weasley had done for Harry time and time again. Potter, Potter NOT Harry. Draco for fuck’s sake, get a grip on yourself. Harry, NO! Potter is not just an enemy, he’s THE enemy. The only one who can destroy the Dark Lord, father’s master. Voldemort.

But over the last few years Draco had found he had begun to hope more and more that Harry would survive whenever he ended up facing Voldemort.

Just at the end of last year Harry had been attacked by Voldemort on the grounds of Hogwart’s itself next to the Forbidden Forest.

The battle had been terrible, with most of the school watching in horror from the castle steps.

Hermione Granger and all the Weasleys had to be held back by the teachers, they were so frantic at seeing their friend being hurt before their very eyes and them not able to do anything.

Voldemort used the Cruciatus Curse on Harry several time and Draco had been horrified not overjoyed at the sound of Harry’s terrible screams.

Voldemort seemed to enjoy the sight of Harry’s blood very much and sent curse after curse at the raven-haired boy that would make him bleed. Harry was very good at duelling and blocked most but a few still got through.

When Harry’s shoulder had exploded, the skin and muscle splitting open with blood pouring everywhere even the Slytherins had paled and several people fainted.

Voldemort just laughed that high cold laugh of his and hissed something in Parselmouth at Harry, the little colour left in the raven-haired boys face drained from it. “No!” He then screamed. “I won’t let you!” Voldemort had just laughed again and walked towards Harry, who was kneeling on the blood splattered grass. He hissed almost kindly at the fallen boy and ran a finger almost tenderly down his pale cheek, and smiled when Harry cried out in obvious, agonising pain.

Harry then punched Voldemort so hard that even from where he was standing Draco heard Voldemort’s jaw shatter.

The Boy Who Lived slowly pulled himself to his feet, staring at the man reeling in front of him with utter rage in his flashing green eyes. Draco didn’t want to admit it but he was scared of the awesome strength that seemed to come off Harry. Then the raven-haired boy had begun to glow, a green light surrounding his body. The light whipped forward and smothered Voldemort, freezing the Dark Lord to the spot. Then it began to twist him. His arms shattered, then his legs, a cracking sound then indicated his ribs were being broken one by one.

Then Harry spoke in a voice that terrified Draco, it was expressionless, dead.

“I’m not like you, I can’t kill in cold blood even if it would mean freeing the world from your evil darkness, but I can send you far away, and cripple you so you won’t be able to do anything for quite awhile. Bye now.” And Voldemort vanished.

After that the school had remained frozen on the steps just staring at the completely blood-soaked Harry. He tried to turn towards them and collapsed.

Before anyone could move Dumbeldore was sprinting across the grass towards the dead looking raven-haired boy. He reached Harry in a matter of seconds and lifted him up easily in his arms and started hurrying a little slower back up to the hospital wing.

Blood dripped heavily from Harry’s hanging arm, and soaked his shirt completely. His face under the streaks of blood was white, looking even whiter against the rich, dark blood and his black, wild hair.

Everyone thought he was going to die, he’d just lost too much blood, his injuries were just too serious. And Dumbeldore had been……..crying as he carried Harry.

Hermione Granger screamed, the pain and despair almost breaking Draco’s cold heart. She tore at her hair, scratched her arms so hard they bled. Two of her friends jumped forwards to stop her doing any more harm to herself. Ron Weasley stood there, silent, but Draco could see his fists clenching tighter and tighter until blood trickled between his fingers and dripped onto the steps. Fred and George Weasley (who had been visiting for the day) burst into tears and sat there hugging each other. Ginny Weasley collapsed sobbing onto the ground, punching it with her fists until her knuckles split. Hagrid’s booming wails could probably be heard down in Hogsmead.

People were crying everywhere, even the teachers, (except Snape who just stared blankly at nothing) Professor McGonagall had to be lead away crying herself hoarse.

Draco could hardly believe it; if any of the Slytherin’s laughed everyone else would very likely attack them.

The school was like that for a week. Lessons had to be cancelled. Hermione Granger got quite hysterical when they wouldn’t let her or Ron Weasley see Harry. Dumbeldore wasn’t seen at all and McGonagall had to take over, as, she explained to everyone in the great hall the next morning, he was totally refusing to leave Harry’s side.

When Harry finally woke up Hermione Granger burst into tears again with Ginny Weasley and the school went into a three-day celebration.

Draco couldn’t help admiring Harry’s kindness, courage and determination, not to mention his strength. Harry was now at the top of most classes with Granger, not because he’d become the bookish type like her, but because he was finding magic easier and easier to do. Transforming his desk into a perfect pig on his very first try was as easy to him as turning a matchstick into a needle. Even Granger hadn’t been able to do it perfectly on her first try (her pig still had wood carvings on its skin.)

The two boys reached the empty entrance hall.

The doors to the great hall were shut and they could hear the rest of the school on the other side, eating breakfast and talking.

“Potter.”

Harry at the sound of his name and Draco once again got a shock at how different the dark-haired boy looked without his glasses.

The bruise Draco had given Harry on the top of his cheekbone in Potions had been healed by Madame Pomfrey, as had all of Draco’s own bruises. She had probably thought they were from the duel.

“Yes Malfoy?”

Harry’s emerald eyes pierced Draco to his very soul.

“Do you mind if we keep this between ourselves? It’s not just people in school who’d disapprove of us going all buddy-buddy on each other.”

Harry held his powerful gaze a moment longer.

“Good idea.” Was all he said.

Draco smiled. Harry didn’t want to do this any more than he did.

“Come on then. I’ve been told we’re the top two most shaggable guys in the school so we’ve got to make an entrance.”

It worked. He got Harry to grin, a wicked sparkle flashing in those emerald eyes.

“Let’s do it dragon!”

Hermione had been sitting at the Gryffindor table with Ron worrying over Harry when Colin Creevy and his gang of Harry admirers burst into the hall.

“They’re awake!” Colin squealed out to the entire hall.

There was a silence then a growing murmur ran through around the tables. Everyone knew who he was talking about.

One of the girls from Colin’s gang scrambled forward, her face flushed and excited.

“Malfoy got rid of Harry’s glasses! He doesn’t need them anymore!”

“Yeah!” Another girl piped up. “And Harry’s so gorgeous without them. I almost fainted!”

“Mind you.” Another girl theatrically whispered so the whole hall could hear. “They both were half naked, I think we went past the fainting stage and went right into brain overload stage.”

Boys choked on their food and drinks all over the hall, while the girls blushed and giggled, whispering excitedly amongst themselves.

Colin’s gang took their places at the Gryffindor table and were immediately bombarded by the other Gryffindor girls trying to find out what the two most shaggable boys at Hogwarts looked like half naked.

Ron had been one of the boys to choke and Hermione had to hit him on the back to stop him coughing.

“Half naked?!” He finally gasped, his face beetroot red.

Hermione tried not to laugh at Ron’s indignation.

“Just be happy Harry’s awake.” She chided. Ron scratched his head.

“Of course, I was really hoping Malfoy wouldn’t wake up though.”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped. Sure she didn’t like Malfoy either but she didn’t want him dead.

They argued briefly and Ron was just telling Hermione that she was an insufferable know it all when the doors to the great hall burst open and Harry and Draco casually glided in.

Gasps issued around the hall and several girls suddenly had to fan themselves with napkins.

Hermione watched the two boys sweep across the floor and felt a blush start on her neck.

Draco knew he was gorgeous, with silver smooth, never out of place, hair, silver eyes, with a wicked tilt to them, a perfect pale face, cheekbones to die for, a graceful neck and a perfect, sleek body. His tall figure was immaculately dressed in a loose black silk shirt, stylish black trousers, and very expensive looking, black, knee-high dragon hide boots.

He always carried himself with the up-most grace, each movement precise and planned. But there was also something about the way he moved that put Hermione in mind of a wolf, beautiful yes, but deadly as well.

Hermione’s eyes moved to Harry and her breath caught in her throat. Harry was so gorgeous he almost looked inhuman. He had always been handsome with his glasses, but without them. Wow! Was all Hermione could think.

Harry didn’t know he was good looking so that just made him even more so. His unruly raven black hair was always thick and glossy, looking like black silk, he had healthy, tanned, golden skin, huge emerald eyes with such an intense gaze a person could break out into a sweat in a few seconds, and soft, full lips that looked oh so kissable. Like Draco he also had cheekbones to die for, a graceful neck and a perfect, sleek body.

He was dressed casually in a loose black shirt, dark jeans and dragon hide boots, but he managed to make these normal clothes look fit for a king.

Hermione jerked as she noticed something she couldn’t understand why she’d never noticed it before.

Harry and Draco were exactly the same height and both carried themselves with the same dangerous grace. She thought back and realised that Harry had started to carry himself like that halfway through their fifth year, and when they’d had the Yule Ball at the end of the year Harry had danced perfectly, not anything like the clumsy boy he’d been the year before.

As the two boys approached the ends of the four tables Professor McGonagall stood up.

Draco and Harry slowed and stopped, calmly looking up at their teacher.

“I am pleased to see you have both recovered so quickly, but you did duel and very fiercely at that so you will both have detentions tonight at eight o’clock. Meet Professor Chang in the entrance hall at that time. Now both of you go and get a good breakfast.” She sat back down.

Both boys nodded, turned and strode to their tables, sitting down and filling their plates.

The entire hall stared, looking at one boy then swivelling around to stare at the other.

They both looked up and scowled.

“What?” They both said in unison.

A few people tittered and everyone turned back to their conversations and food.

Ron leaned across to Harry, who was piling his plate with waffles.

“You feeling alright now Harry?” He asked anxiously. Harry looked up and grinned at his tense friend, who relaxed when he told him, he was fine.

Seamus turned around from the conversation he was having with Dean and stared hard at Harry.

“Have I grown an extra head or something? Why does everyone keep staring at me?”

Hermione giggled at his total bewildered expression but nodded at Seamus to explain.

“Well Harry,” the sandy-haired boy stated calmly. “You look really different without your glasses an’ all us boys are starin’ at you ‘cos we want to beat the crap out of you.”

“W-what?” Harry choked on a bit of toast and Ron had to lean over and hit him on the back. Once he could breathe Harry looked over at Seamus with a slightly hurt expression in his eyes.

“Why?” He mumbled.

Dean, who had heard the conversation, laughed.

“Have you looked at yourself in the mirror yet Harry?” When Harry shook his head Dean laughed even louder.

“Then I suggest you do lady-killer!”

Harry didn’t have a chance to reply because Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil appeared so suddenly either side of his they could have apparated.

“Hello Harry.” Lavender purred.

“Lavender and I were just thinking that we really need someone to help us with our charms homework.” Parvati breathed, pushing herself up against Harry’s arm so he had a perfect view down her low cut top.

“And since you’re the best in the school we immediately thought of you. How about it gorgeous?” Lavender finished off running her hand through Harry’s black hair, something that every girl in the school had been itching to do for years.

“Ohhhh, your hair’s so soft, I could just stroke it forever.”

Harry looked quite terrified.

Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville burst out into such loud roars of laughter that a lot of people turned around to see what was going on.

Hermione and Ginny frowned angrily at the two flirting girls.

“Get off him you sluts!” Hermione snapped angrily. Two icy glares shot in her direction, but they stood up.

“You can’t treat us like that all the time Hermione Granger. You’re just his friend remember? Not his girlfriend. So we aren’t breaking any rules by being attracted to him!” Lavender announced shrilly, before flouncing off with Parvati in tow.

Harry looked very relieved.

“Thanks Hermione.” He gasped, before going back to his breakfast.

Once they had all finished breakfast they went down to say hello to Hagrid before setting off for a days shopping in Hogshead.

They ended up in The Three Broomsticks drinking the warm butterbeer to defrost their chilly fingers and toes.

“I can’t believe it started snowing.” Ron grumbled shaking his wet head, splattering cold droplets all over Harry and Hermione’s now warm faces.

“Ron!” Hermione squealed indignantly and he grinned apologetically at her.

“Sorry ‘Mione.”

Harry just laughed and took another swig of butterbeer.

Ron turned to him his grin disappearing.

“So why d’you recon Malfoy healed your eyes Harry?”

Harry thoughtfully took another long gulp and let the warmth of the drink spread through his entire body.

“I dunno. He said he was fed up with risking cutting his fist every time he punched me in the face.”

Ron snorted.

“I recon he thought you were much better looking without your glasses as well as the girls Harry!” He said in a very knowing voice then had to duck as Harry jokingly threw a punch at his friends face.

“Okay I never want to hear you say that again you git! We almost killed each other for Merlin’s sake!”

Hermione jumped in and put an end to the boyish fooling around.

“Harry listen, I’ve been doing some research over that last spell you and Malfoy did while you were duelling.”

“I bet you did Hermione.”

“Shut up Ron! Harry, that was a really powerful spell, very ancient. It’s an elemental type of magic, the type that witches and wizards stopped using a thousand years ago!”

Harry stared at her.

“Go on.” He said quietly.

“Well after the duel we asked Dumbeldore what the spell was and all he said was destiny. I didn’t know at the time but he’d given us the answer. The spell’s called Destiny and it joins two souls together. It happens when two witches or wizards hate each other when they’re meant to be as close as brothers or sisters. But that’s not all, it binds them because if they aren’t close then the world as we know it will be destroyed!”

Hermione paused to take a deep breath as her two friends stared at her, one in bewilderment the other in shock.

“So.” Harry began in a would-be calm sort of voice.

“You’re telling that this spell wants me and Malfoy to be brothers?”

Hermione nodded desperately.

“Or the world as we know it will be destroyed.” She intoned.

“So this spell will make him get on with Malfoy?” Ron spluttered. Hermione looked miserable.

“Yes and no. The spell will make Harry and Malfoy stop wanting to fight and hate each other, but the friendship that comes out of it will be entirely their own emotions.”

Harry drained the last of his butterbeer, wiped his mouth and stood up. The other two jumped at his sudden movement.

“Where are you going Harry?”

Harry waved at the grandfather clock up against the wall. It said six-thirty.

“School. I’ve got my defence lesson with Lupin than detention with my soulmate!”

He turned angrily and walked away from the table pulling on his scarf, gloves and cloak.

Harry ignored Madame Rosemerta, who waved to him, and pushed open the door.

The freezing cold hit him in the face like an iron bar as he walked out into the night, but it did nothing to cool the anger burning inside him.

Harry set off down the snow-covered road staring keenly ahead of him. His vision was much sharper than it ever had been when he’d had his glasses.

Soon he was walking down the white track that lead back to Hogwarts.

The empty trees seemed to stare at the raven-haired boy with flashing emerald eyes who bounded past.

Harry soon turned a corner and saw Hogwarts rising magnificently above him, warm lights shining from the many tiny windows.

Suddenly there was a prickling at the back of Harry’s neck. Someone was watching him. He spun around, his black cloak bellowing out behind him scattering the snowflakes.

Harry’s quick emerald eyes scanned the trees behind him. They could have hidden an army.

The Boy Who Lived snorted, turned and made his way up to the castle, not knowing that behind a gnarled oak something dark watched him go.

Professor Lupin was sitting in an empty classroom reading a very interesting book he had taken from the restricted section.

There was a knock on the door.

Lupin had cast a charm on it earlier so he could see who was standing on the other side.

He looked up and smiled. Here he was, right on time.

“Come in Harry.”

The young man didn’t flinch when the professor called his name without opening the door, just pushed it open and walked in.

Lupin watched him walk across the floor hiding a proud smile.

The boy he’d known had now become a handsome young man.

His hair was sticking up more than usual as if he’d been running his hand through it repeatedly. His green eyes were burning in anger.

Lupin was glad he could tell Harry was angry. When Harry shut all of his feelings away behind an expressionless mask they would build up and up. He would never let anything out and one day it would all become too much. It would come crashing out in a horrible tidal wave, stripping Harry bare and leaving him a sobbing, exhausted heap. But poor Harry was always tired. He’d had nightmares often since Voldemort’s return, nightmares so dreadful that even though he’d put a silencing charm around his bed each night, his terrible screaming used to break through, waking all of the boys in his old dorm. Now he was a prefect and had his own room no one ever heard him any more.

Harry stopped in front of Lupin and the greying teacher stood up and wrapped him in a warm hug.

Harry clung to the threadbare robes, breathing in the familiar smell.

He remembered several months ago when his nightmares had been particularly bad and he’d had an argument with Ron and Hermione. On top of that Malfoy had made him so angry that he’d turned the sneering blond into an albino mouse, so he had gotten a detention. Finally Professor Lupin had gently chided him that night in his defence lesson and it had all been too much.

At the beginning he’d screamed and shouted, things exploding around him as he turned his anger on them, instead of on the shocked looking teacher in front of him.

He’d just split the blackboard in two when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around him. Harry angrily grabbed the arms, wanting to push them away, but he found himself clinging on.

“Cry Harry.” Lupin had said gently. “Just let it all out.”

The first tear had been so hard, but once it was out the rest had followed for hours. It was the first time in his life he had really cried since he was five.

He’d ended up falling asleep, exhausted from crying, in the kind professor’s arms and had woken up on a bed in Lupin’s office the next morning.

After that Lupin and Harry had become very close, as close as Harry and Sirius, which made Harry feel the thing he needed most in the world. Loved.

They released each other and Lupin saw to his relief that Harry was much more relaxed.

“Would you like to carry on with what we were doing last time, or would you just like to talk, Harry?”

Harry shook his head, his thick black hair falling into his brilliant eyes.

“I’m fine, we can carry on, Remus.”

Lupin gave him a long penetrating look, knowing that Harry had been through a lot in the past few days.

“Alright then Harry. We were looking at exploding charms last time, we’ll carry on with those then go on to the more advanced confusing hexes.”

Almost an hour later Harry and Lupin were sitting down with a couple of bottles of butterbeer.

Harry pulled over the book Lupin had been reading and glanced at the open page.

It showed a drawing of a very evil looking sword with writing surrounding it.

“What’s this Remus?”

Lupin leaned over a stared at the page, the sword leering evilly up at him.

“It’s a living sword, a demon named Malum. The legend goes that it belonged to Salazar Slytherin. Whoever throws the blade at an enemy the blade will pursue the enemy until it punctures through their beating heart and twists, catching the person’s soul. When the person dies - which is in a lot of pain - their soul, no matter how good or pure, is pulled down to hell where they stay in agony for all eternity. This sword can even kill an immortal and cuts through anything. I’ve also heard it’s impossible to destroy.”

Harry looked down at the sword. It had a cruel, jagged blade that was stained black. The hilt had been crafted to look like a demons skull. It’s eye sockets were filled with two blood red rubies, which glowed from within. Harry shuddered. The eyes were looking up at him hungrily.

“Cheerful,” he commented dryly, Lupin chuckled.

“It’s okay Harry, the sword was lost after Slytherin died - over a thousand years ago.”

Harry glanced at his watch and jumped lightly off the desk.

“Gotta go. Detention. Thanks Remus.”

“My pleasure, Harry. Same time Monday?”

“Yeah, see you!”

Harry gave the professor a quick one-armed hug and bounded out the door-leaving Lupin smiling after him.

Young ones these days. Always sprinting about like crazy.

Harry arrived in the entrance hall the same time as Draco Malfoy, five to eight.

They paused to try and glare at each other briefly, but it didn’t work so they walked towards one another.

“Ready for this oh so interesting detention Potter?”

Harry folded his arms across his slender chest but no anger surfaced in the face of Malfoy’s half-hearted sarcasm.

“Some of the detentions we’ve had have been quite, shall we say, interesting Malfoy.”

Draco grinned and his silver eyes misted over in memories, most quite unpleasant, but never dull.

“Too right.”

“Potter! Malfoy!” A sharp voice barked.

Harry and Draco immediately jumped into the ready stance at hearing their teacher’s voice.

Professor Chang stepped forward. He was a small Chinese man, but had a wiry, strong body and a sharp tongue. Also sharp fists and feet as Harry and Draco had found out.

“Very good boys. You must never let your guard drop as you could be attacked at any time.”

Harry and Draco both bowed, but neither took their eyes off the shrewd teacher. They had also learnt not to do that the hard way.

“Yes, Master Chang.” They both said in unison, and then stared at each other in surprise.

Professor Chang gave a short laugh and beckoned the two young men to follow him.

He led the boys down corridor after musty corridor, taking them deep into the school where very few people went.

Finally he pulled open a door and waved the boys inside.

Once Harry was inside he turned and found his teachers fist flying towards his face. Without thinking he blocked and flipped his teacher onto the floor. Chang often did this sort of thing to catch them by surprise to see how well they reacted.

Draco stared. He’d never been able to knock the professor down. But he reminded himself fiercely; Potter’s had a lot more training than you.

Professor Chang had gotten back to his feet and was talking Harry through the finer points of flipping someone. Then the teacher gave himself a shake.

“You’re not here for a lesson, you’re here for detention. You must polish all the weapons. The polish and cloth are over there. I will come back in two hours.”

He walked out slamming and locking the door behind him.

Draco stared at the door incensed. Polishing!? Him!? This was servant stuff!

Harry meanwhile had looked around the room and found it to be a grand old armoury. All the different types of weapons hanging from the walls surprised him. Silver moonlight flooded through the floor length windows on the far wall and only one torch had been lit.

The raven-haired boy saw the clothes and polish on a sturdy mahogany table and walked over.

Taking a shield from the wall he grabbed a cloth, muttered a charm under his breath so there would always be plenty of polish on the rag, and began to wipe.

Draco turned at the sound of scrubbing and was now gawping at Harry, who was calmly sitting on the table wiping a shield with sure, even strokes. Within a minute it was gleaming. Harry got up and carefully replaced it on the wall and took down the next shield.

“You better get on with your side Malfoy or we’ll never get it done.”

Draco just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

“Wha-what are you doing?” he gasped out eventually. Harry gave him a very hard, long stare and Draco felt sweat start to trickle down the back of his neck under the powerful gaze.

“Cleaning,” said Harry in the tone of voice a person used when explaining something to a two year old.

“But you’re Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. You shouldn’t know how to clean!”

Harry gave the blond boy another hard stare.

“You’ve know me for what? Seven years? I lived with muggles who hated me because I had magic in my very blood, and they always made me do the work. This is a picnic compared to some of the things they used to make me do.”

Without quite knowing why, Draco walked over and sat down next to Harry. He put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, who almost flinched but didn’t push the pale hand away.

“I’m sorry Harry, I just always thought you were exaggerating to get more attention.”

Harry laughed hollowly.

“I lived in the cupboard under the stairs for eleven years. For sixteen years I had to wear my fat, no, huge cousin’s clothes so they almost fell off me. Any chance they got they would beat the crap out of me.” He looked sadly down at the stone floor, his raven-black hair falling softly over his face, and whispered, “Why would I lie or exaggerate about that?”

They just sat there. Two enemies, unknowingly becoming friends.

An hour later Draco was becoming quite manic.

“Diiiieeeeee!” he screamed, rushing a suit of armour with a sword held high over his head.

The rusty relic tried to shuffle out of the way but to no avail.

Clang.

Draco had hit the armour so hard the sword had dented the helmet. The armour staggered and collapsed with a tired groan.

“HA!” Yelled Draco, jumping up and down.

“Ha! I win! I’m the champion!”

He tried striking several noble poses then gave up and began dancing around the armour in glee.

Harry stopped polishing a sword halfway through to watch the mad antics of the blond boy.

He laughed.

Draco spun around and saw him.

“On guard Harry!” He jumped towards him.

Harry stood up placing the cloth on the table.

“C’mon Harry, lemme teach you!”

Draco rushed towards the calm raven-haired boy and swung the sword, meaning to miss Harry’s head by a few inches. It had taken him years of practice to be able to do anything like that without fear of cutting his opponent’s face open.

Clash.

Draco looked down stunned at the sword which had perfectly trapped his own. His eyes followed the sword up the gleaming blade, onto the elegant but simple leather bound hilt, onto the strong, slender hand comfortably holding it exactly the right way. Up the lean arm covered by a black jumper, up to the broad shoulders, up the graceful neck, onto the healthy face and straight into the penetrating emerald eyes alight with mischief.

Draco grinned as he saw Harry had only moved his arm. The rest of the boy’s sleek body was in the same position it had been when Draco had swung at him.

“Oh you’re good.”

Draco pulled his sword out of the trap and lunged at Harry again. Harry blocked and parried. Draco caught the blade on the upswing, pushing it further up leaving an opening clear. He took it. His sword blurred in and stopped, lightly pressing the skin on Harry’s side.

“But I’m better.” Draco smirked, but not nastily, up into Harry’s bemused face.

Harry casually turned and placed his sword on the table behind him.

Suddenly he spun around, knocking Draco’s sword away and delivering a blow that numbed the blond boy’s wrist. The sword dropped out of Draco’s nerveless fingers and he found himself flat on his back with Harry’s arm pressed gently across his throat.

“And I’m better at that.” Harry whispered softly. Then he stood up and lent a hand to the blond boy struggling to find the land of the vertical.

“Okay you win. Impressive Harry, I wouldn’t have been able to have done that anywhere near that fast.”

Harry grinned.

“Well I’ve been learning longer than you, but defiantly not at the sword. How long have you been learning?”

Draco put his sword down next to Harry’s and massaged his tingling wrist.

“Since I was six. Father just decided one day that I should learn a man’s sport. So he dragged me down to the training room, thrust a sword I could hardly lift in my hand’s and attacked me.”

Draco looked down at his boots ashamed of himself. He hadn’t meant to tell Harry so much, but he just felt that even it he spilled his deepest, darkest secrets out to the raven-haired boy sitting next to him, if he asked Harry wouldn’t tell a soul. Simply meaning Draco felt he could trust Harry with his life.

“I see.” Was all Harry said, knowing that the silver blond boy next to him, staring sulkily at his boots in the glowing moonlight, didn’t want to talk about it.

Harry stood up and went to light some more torches.

Draco looked up in time to see Harry wave his hand at one of the dead torches and mutter ”Incendio!”

Draco blinked then looked down at the wand lying on the dark table, it wasn’t his.

“Harry.”

“Yeah?” Harry grunted as he finished lighting the last torch and turned to face Draco across the room. The blond looked pale in the golden light.

“Have you told anyone you can do wandless magic?”

Harry frowned and walked over to the blond.

“No. I thought everyone could do it once they got to a certain level in performing magic. I’ve only been able to do it a few months.”

Draco was just sitting there on the thick mahogany table with his mouth hanging open.

“Do you know how many other people in the wizarding world can do wandless magic to an extent where they can actually perform a spell?”

Harry shrugged casually.

“No.”

“Three.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, his eyes widened and Draco was reminded yet again of how different Harry looked without his glasses.

“T-three?” Harry gasped. Draco nodded.

“Voldemort, Dumbeldore, and………myself.” He finished quickly.

Harry carried on staring and Draco felt he had to say something.

“No-one but my father knows about me, and he found out by accident. I discovered my powers in the summer hols and got excited about them thinking of all the things I could do to you Weasley and Granger without being able to have the blame put on me. Anyway I didn’t behave rationally and started using them in the garden. Father just happened to look out of the window.”

“Oh.” Was all Harry said.

Draco looked up at him. He felt terribly relieved having finally told someone he felt he could trust, but the best thing by far was that he was no longer alone.

“Do you think” The blond Slytherin began shyly then stood up and walked away.

“Forget it.”

“What?” Harry asked curiously standing up himself and taking a step towards the blond who was fast becoming one of his best friends.

“Come on tell me Draco.”

“Nu-uh.” Was all the other boy muttered stubbornly, keeping his back to Harry.

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

In a sudden, silent rush the raven-haired boy charged forward, grabbed the unsuspecting blond-who squeaked in surprise-flipped him easily onto the floor and sat on his chest.

“Right, spill it or I won’t move.”

Draco glared up at Harry, then tried to push him off, but the other boy stayed firmly attached to his chest. Finally Draco sighed and gave in.

“Okay. I was going to say we should meet up once a week to practice wandless magic. You know, help each other become stronger as we’ve both just discovered our abilities.”

The raven-haired boy stared at Draco for a long time and the blond found himself shift nervously under the soul baring gaze.

“Only if you teach me to fence as I’m not very good at it.”

“Huh?” Was all Draco could manage.

“You heard.” Said Harry standing up and picking up Draco’s and his own sword.

“So whatta you say?”

Draco stood slowly and stared at the messy-haired, handsome young man in front of him. He smiled.

“I say I think we’re gonna have bloody fun!”

Harry grinned and tossed Draco his sword. The blond caught it easily and instructed Harry to show him what he’d already learned.

Soon both boys were so involved in their swordplay that they didn’t hear the door open quietly, nor did they see Professor Chang poke his head around, but the teacher certainly saw them.

He watched the two fencing young men for a while, noting how they seemed to interpret each other’s movements before they were made.

Impressive, must be something to do with that spell, he thought. The teacher then quietly withdrew his head and locked the door again.

Almost an hour later Harry and Draco were still fencing.

They had both become very sweaty very quickly and had yanked off their jumpers.

Their shirts were sticking to their backs as they circled each other, looking for an opening.

Turning but never taking his eyes off Harry, Draco saw an ancient clock-still working-just behind Harry’s head. It clearly stated it was ten to ten.

“Shit!” Draco yelped.

Harry jumped, glancing around the large room, trying to see what had startled Draco.

“What?” He asked, seeing nothing.

“The time!” Draco wailed. “Chang’s gonna be back in ten minutes and we haven’t even cleaned half the bloody room! We’re dead, we’re so dead.”

Harry ignored Draco’s mumbling about how dead they were and thought back to exactly what the professor had said. Suddenly it was like someone had switched a light on inside his head and he hurried over to the still mumbling Draco.

“Draco? Draco?” Harry shook the blond gently by the shoulders but the other boy didn’t respond.

“DRACO!” Harry bellowed, making the Slytherin almost jump violently through the roof.

“What? What? What?” He yelped.

“I’ve got it.” Harry stated calmly, as if he hadn’t just bellowed in his friends ear at all.

“Got what?” Draco asked curiously. Harry rolled his eyes.

“Geez, are you always this blond Draco? The answer for Merlin’s sake.”

Draco didn’t like the blond comment very much so he decided to be annoyingly stubborn.

“Bullshit.” He said folding his arms across his chest. Harry’s eyes suddenly flashed and Draco wondered if he’d stepped over the line.

“Fine I’ll prove it then.” The raven-haired boy snapped. He stalked towards a wall, which was covered with weapons they still had to polish. Harry stretched out his sleek hand towards them, a focused expression on his tanned face.

“Mundus!” He shouted. A green light shot from his palm, covering the weapons. When the light disappeared moments later the weapons were gleaming as if they had just been polished.

Draco’s mouth dropped open. Without his wand he would have only have been able to do a few weapons at a time, and Harry had just done the whole wall in one flipping go!

“But Professor Chang said….” The blond began weakly, but Harry grinned cheekily.

“Did the Professor once say that we couldn’t use magic? No! Just because he told us where the cloth’s and polish were we immediately assumed no magic.”

Draco clapped a hand to his pale forehead.

“Gods are we slow!”

Harry laughed, Draco joined in. Soon they were both doubling up almost crying with laughter.

“Something funny?” A mildly bemused voice behind them asked.

Harry and Draco stopped laughing instantly and span around.

Professor Chang was standing near the door of the cool armoury, and standing beside him was none other than Professor Dumbeldore, smiling at the sight of the two gasping boys-no, young men standing in the middle of the huge, flag stoned floor.

“N-no sir.” Muttered Harry as he tried to catch his breath.

“Nothing funny whatsoever sir.” Draco said simply. The two students caught each other’s eye and went into another fit of the giggles.

Dumbeldore studied them closely, noticing the relaxed, friendly atmosphere around them, and the way their eyes no longer held any hate, contempt or disgust when they looked at each other, just friendship and…….trust? The spell was defiantly doing its job if they were like this only after one day. They really were very alike and it almost killed the kind headmaster to know that these two happy boys in front of him would become as close as brothers then one of them would brutally die, efficiently destroying the other at the same time because whichever one it would be he would not be able to stand the loss of the other.

“If I may say, I think you make excellent fencing partners.” The shrewd headmaster said innocently, that shut both boys up instantly.

“H-how?” Draco stuttered.

“Professor Chang has just been telling me about how he watched you fence for a while. I think you should carry on fencing together, therefore this room will always be empty and unlocked on Friday from seven to nine.” Dumbeldore stared at the weapons on the wall and turned to smile at the boys.

“I must say you’ve used an excellent cleaning charm here, you may both go.”

Draco and Harry gathered their things and walked out thanking both of the professors as they passed.

They walked back down the quite corridors in silence for a few minutes. Then Draco spoke.

“We can fence every Friday and could do a wandless magic session every Saturday.”

“Good idea, but where?” Harry asked. Draco thought hard about it.

“I’m not sure.” The blond finally admitted.

“I know!” Harry cried suddenly and darted off down the corridor. Draco shrugged then sprinted after the fast disappearing form of his ex-arch nemeses. He followed Harry with only a Seekers speed and even then found it hard to keep up with the dark-haired boy.

Harry stopped near the charms corridor and pulled open a plain, unobserved door. Draco followed him in and looked around the old, disused classroom, with the tables and chairs stacked up against the walls.

“What’s so special about here?” Draco asked, then a cheeky idea hit him and he spun around to face Harry, silver eyes dancing with mischief.

“Did you used to meet someone here Harry? A midnight rendezvous if you know what I mean!”

Harry blushed, glad that Draco couldn’t tell how badly in the silver moonlight.

“No. This was where The Mirror Of Erised was kept before it was taken to protect the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Really?” Draco sounded genuinely interested, he had heard of this wondrous mirror.

“What did you see when you looked into it?”

The question was innocent, but it struck Harry like a knife, sharp and deep. The colour of the raven-haired boy’s face visibly (even in the moonlight,) paled and he had to lean against one of the stone pillars to remain standing, but even that wasn’t enough.

Draco watched in horror as Harry slid to the cold, marble floor. What have I done? He rushed forward and knelt in front of the boy, who a few days ago had been his worst enemy, now he was defiantly his one and only true friend.

“Harry I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Draco’s voice sounded so broken and apologetic that it pulled Harry back to the classroom, away from the memory of his dead family waving and beaming at him.

Without realising what he was doing, Harry reached up and wrapped his arms around the slender, blond boy, pulling him into a warm hug.

Draco clung to Harry, feeling the friendship and trust filling the air around them. He’d never been hugged like this. His mother had hugged him a few times when he was little, but they were always quick and fearful. Now his mother was too scared to even touch him and his father didn’t love him at all. The blond Slytherin had seen Harry hugged by lots of people, all the Weasleys and Hermione, also other people-Cho Chang, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Oliver Wood, Seamus, Dean, Neville, and countless others. Every single one, every hug was filled with warmth, love, and trust and Draco had hated Harry for that, hated that no-one would ever hug him that way, and yet here he was being hugged warmly by none other than Harry Potter, it was.......right.

“It’s alright Draco, not your fault. It’s just what I see in the mirror can never be possible.”

“Why?” Draco asked softly, pulling away and looking his friend straight in the eye.

Harry shut his eyes but it was no good. He felt the tear welling behind his eyelid, one tiny droplet from a sea of pain, hopelessness, despair, and loneliness.

Draco watched in shock as a single tear, sparkling like a star, slid down Harry’s cheek.

Just one tear.

“I see my family.” Harry whispered huskily.

Draco felt a twinge of sadness in his heart. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to grow up with no father or mother, and to be lied to about them, lied to again and again.

“Oh Harry.”

This time it was Draco who wrapped his arms around the slender, hunched form and pulled the raven-haired boy forward into a comforting hug.

They sat like that for a long time, just holding each other and feeling safe for the first time in either of their lives.

When they finally left to go back to their own common rooms and beds they made an agreement to only be friends in private and to carry on being ‘enemies’ in public.

They gave each other one final brotherly hug and went their separate ways.

“Hey Draco. How was your detention with Potter?” Pansy Parkinson gushed, scurrying over to him the moment he stepped into the long, dark common room. Draco shrugged.

“As good as a detention with Potter can be.” He drawled, looking bored.

Crabbe and Goyle came lumbering over.

“Did you smash his face?” The stupid Crabbe asked eagerly. Draco sighed.

“No Crabbe.” He started, making sure the sarcastic tone in his voice was clear. “We had a sword fight, I danced around like a maniac, he cried in my arms, and we’re now as close as brothers and probably will do a blood tie any day now.”

Crabbe looked shocked.

“Really?” The huge boy asked densely and Draco felt his temper rise. Harry had Weasley and Granger for best friends; they were kind, clever, funny, and trustworthy. Draco on the other hand had no one. Crabbe and Goyle were two stupid, lumbering trolls who only followed him so they could spy on him for their father’s. Pansy only flirted with him because he was good-looking and rich. The other Slytherin’s only did what he said because his father was so powerful.

“You’re such an idiot, I don’t know why I put up with you. Pansy you explain, I’m going to bed.”

He left Pansy-explaining sarcasm to Crabbe and Goyle and padded as silent as a cat up the stairs and into his private dormitory. He was glad he was a prefect and had his own room because no one could hear him when he screamed in his sleep.

Draco changed out of his clothes and pulled on a pair of black silk pyjamas.

He settled himself in the green four postered bed and waved his hand at the small fire on the other side of the room. It died down, burning softly and the room was filled with a dim, almost warm light.

Draco slowly drifted off to sleep and that night in his dreams, his terrible nightmares were kept at bay by a raven-haired young man with a piercing, emerald gaze, a lightning shaped scar and a flashing sword.

“Hey Harry, how was your detention with Malfoy?”

Harry slumped into one of the chairs by the fire and watched as Ron thrashed Hermione at chess.

“As good as a detention with Malfoy can be.” Harry mumbled, watching as Hermione’s king pulled off his crown and threw it at Ron’s queen’s feet.

“I win.” Ron said smugly leaning back, and Hermione scowled at him.

“You only win because you spend all your time playing instead of studying!”

Hermione jumped up and gathered her books. Her Head Girl badge gleamed in the firelight.

“I’m going to bed! I hope your detention wasn’t too bad Harry.”

She leaned over and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek, then she stuck her tongue out at Ron and walked up the stairs leading to the girl’s dorms.

“She’s getting so bloody worked up about the N.E.W.T’s, they’re month’s away!” Ron snapped angrily as he packed away his chess set. Harry laughed.

“Just let her be Ron, you know what she’s like.”

“Yeah I suppose.” Ron sighed. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” Harry pulled himself to his feet and followed Ron up the stairs. Ron soon turned off and opened the door to his room.

“Night Harry.”

“Night Ron.”

Harry walked down the corridor until he got to the Head Boy dorm-his room.

He changed out of his clothes and yanked on a pair of Dudley’s old red pyjama bottoms leaving his chest bare. He really had to buy a new pair.

Harry slipped under the warm sheets and reached his hand up to absentmindedly remove his glasses, but they weren’t there. Oh yeah I don’t need them anymore, Harry mused as sleep began to fold him into it’s gentle embrace. I wonder where they are, probably lying on the Quidditch pitch.

Harry’s eyes closed and there were no nightmares, as a silver haired young man with flashing silver eyes held them off with a shining sword.