United In Death

Broken home

All alone

I know my mother loves me

But does my father even care

If I'm sad or angry

You were never there

When I needed you

I hope you regret what you did

I think I know the truth

Your father did the same to you

I'm crying day and night now

What is wrong with me

I cannot fight now

I feel like a weak link

Push it back inside

It feels bad to be alone

Crying by yourself, living in a broken home

How could I tell it so y'all could feel it

Depression strikes hard like my old earth would tell it

To me, her son, she told me I'm the one

Pain bottled up about to blow like a gun

Stories that I tell are nonfiction

And you can't take it back

'Cause it's already done

Broken Home - Papa Roach

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Harry stared out of the window of the Hogwarts express train.

Excitement and sadness were coursing through his body - the two conflicting emotions were making him feel a little light-headed.

He was thrilled to be spending Christmas with Sirius and Hermione in his new home, a manor in the Lake District. But he was also sad that he would not be spending his last Christmas at Hogwarts in the castle, as he had every other year.

A screwed-up piece of parchment flew towards his face, and, with only a seeker's skill and speed, he caught it an inch from his nose without flinching.

"Cheer up, Harry, it might never happen!"

Harry grinned at Ginny sitting opposite him and she winked, keeping hold of Justin Finch-Fletchy's hand. They had been going out for about a year, since Ginny had become a prefect and had shared one of the prefect compartments with the blond Hufflepuff.

Harry was glad she had gotten over her crush on him... One down, only a few hundred others left.

"Thanks Gin," he chuckled. She beamed back and returned to her private conversation with her boyfriend, who winked at Harry then lowered his head. Harry smiled. He and Justin had become proper friends in fifth year, and Harry had noticed the Hufflepuff's interest in Ginny at once. So the black-haired boy had dropped a few hints to her and when she became a prefect he'd made sure that they were left alone in the compartment for a while. When Harry had walked back in they had been busily kissing and broke apart, blushing at the sight of him, but Harry had laughed.

"So you two are finally together then? Finally! I can sleep peacefully now, knowing I won't have to be dropping hints to you two all year!"

Ron nudged Harry gently in the ribs, jerking him out of his daydream.

Ron winced, but kept a calm face when he saw his friend jump and unconsciously reach a hand toward his sleeve in which his wand was hidden.

"Hey, Harry, you want a game of exploding snap or something?"

Harry rubbed his brilliant eyes, tired.

"No thanks Ron. I think I'll take a nap. Why don't you ask 'Mione?"

"Ask me what?" Said Hermione, glancing up from her book An Advanced Guide To Transfiguration.

"Whether you want a game of exploding snap. C'mon 'Mione, it's the holidays!"

Hermione rolled her chestnut eyes and shut her heavy book. She paused to stroke Crookshanks behind the ears then turned to Ron.

"Alright. A sickle says I win."

"You're on!"

Harry smiled slightly, glad that money was no longer a problem for the Weasleys since Fudge had become quite deranged, insisting that Voldemort had not risen. He had actually attacked someone for saying that the Dark Lord's death eaters had fired the dark mark into the sky after killing a family of muggles. He had quickly been placed in St. Mungo's and Arthur Weasley had been voted the new minister. He was doing splendidly.

The emerald-eyed boy leaned back in his warm seat and stared dully out of the window at the snowy landscape flickering past. His let his eyes fall shut and sleep consumed him in its embrace.

He was flying over a landscape he didn't recognise, under a blood-red sky. A huge pine forest stretched beneath him and ahead of him was a towering cliff of black granite, plunging most of the forest into shadow. The cliff blurred beneath him as he sped up the side and emerged onto a wide, rocky plateau.

A castle caught Harry's eye. It hung right on the cliff's edge, its back cut into the cliff face itself, forming a sheer wall. A small wood surrounded the front of the black monstrosity, right up to the drawbridge.

Harry felt himself drawn to the tallest tower and spiralled in, heading for the highest window.

Suddenly, he was inside. The room was empty except for two black four-postured beds, a huge wardrobe, and him.

Lord Voldemort stood in the middle of the stone floor with a cowering, robed figure on the ground before him. The Dark Lord was dressed in a pitch-black robe with a silver serpent blazing on his thin chest. He reached out with a spidery, white hand gripping an old, studded oak chest.

"You know what to do," the red-eyed creature began, "and you know the reward." He paused watching the figure at his feet who shook with what was to come. "But-" he continued and the cowled person shook even harder- "you know what will happen to you if you fail, so I suggest that you don't." Voldemort's voice ended in a cruel hiss, but it seemed to Harry that the creature couldn't quite get enough breath.

The robed figure bowed very low, kissing the hem of Voldemort's robes before scuttling backwards out of the room.

"Ah," the creature called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sighed. He sat, wincing, on the edge of one of the huge beds.

A grating sound made Harry's head turn, and he was surprised to see a solid section of the wall slide up. The Boy-Who-Lived felt his jaw tighten as Wormtail stepped through and touched a stone shaped vaguely like a skull. The wall whispered shut behind him. The man's hand flashed silver in the weak light as he stepped toward his master.

Suddenly a dull throbbing began in Harry's scar. Uh oh, he thought.

"Soon, Wormtail," Voldemort began softly. "Very soon I will bathe in Harry Potter's blood."

Wormtail winced as the seated Dark Lord spoke, then feebly piped up.

"But m-master. Why k-kill him at Hogwarts? Why not kill him when your b-brilliant plan is p-put into action?"

Voldemort sighed and stared at the sweating Death Eater cowering before him.

"Because Harry Potter is the world's hero, you idiot. The world needs to see him die, to see him break and fall, to know that this time, I cannot be stopped. Once their hero is gone, there will be no problems."

"But w-what about Dumbledore?"

"Full of questions tonight, aren't we, Wormtail?"

The man who had betrayed Lily and James Potter threw himself at his master's feet, sobbing pitifully.

"Forgive me, Master! I am t-too stupid to understand your magnificent, genius p-plans. Of course Dumbledore won't stand a chance against y-you and neither will Harry Potter."

Voldemort, seemingly lost in thought, let him cower on the floor.

"I know how to deal with that old fool Dumbledore, but Harry Potter may stand against me and win. He's become much over the years, much stronger. Soon he will be wand-less like me. That green light that he used to hold me....."

Suddenly he snapped out of his daze and pointed a thin finger at the sobbing heap of Peter Pettigrew. He hissed a word that sent ice down Harry's spine.

"Crucio!"

Peter's screams filled the room, but Voldemort's shout could be heard over them.

"Can you hear me, Harry Potter? I will make you pay tenfold for every bone you broke in my body. I have a little surprise for you boy, and it will kill you more than death! It will kill your beliefs, and your hope! Harry Potter, I will dance on your grave!"

Harry was blinded by the pain in his head - it felt like a hot poker, driving deeper and deeper into his skull. Blackness surrounded him, filling him with wave after wave of agonising pain. He was dying. The pain was all consuming, burning into his heart and soul. He was falling into a place he was not meant to go; not just yet... and then he was drifting away and the pain was subsiding. In the darkness there was a glowing strand of pure gold, and he watched as it swirled like ink on water and changed to silver. Harry looked down and saw that one end of the silver cord was attached to his chest, his heart. The other end disappeared into the velvet darkness surrounding him. It gave a sharp tug and pulled him forward, but he wasn't meant to go that way, not back. The cord ignored his silent protests and struggles, pulling him faster and faster through the dark so he felt he was flying. A body appeared before him and it took Harry a few seconds to recognise himself. His face was ghostly pale next to his black hair and eyelashes, and he lay limp upon nothing at all. Harry mused, detachedly, over how different he looked without glasses. In fact, he looked a lot like someone he'd met before. The face of the person he was trying to remember flickered in his minds eye but didn't come into focus, and before he could do anything else, the silver cord pulled him forward and he fell back into his body. It felt a lot more cramped than it had before - but then Harry noticed that there was another part of him trapped behind a wall the thickness of a shadow. It was fighting desperately to break the wall down, to become one with Harry.

Let me free

"Harry! Harry!" Someone was shaking him and screaming his name desperately.

"Wh-what?" He mumbled and the painful shaking instantly stopped. Harry opened his eyes blearily and found himself staring directly into a pair of concerned silver ones.

"Ah." The Boy Who Lived said calmly, then put one hand up to his pounding scar. He felt warm blood trickle down between his eyebrows and closed his eyes from the too-bright light.

The compartment was silent. Ron and Hermione had frozen halfway through a game of exploding snap, Ron still with a hand half-out to add another card to the pile. Ginny and Justin were completely still, staring at Harry with a mixture of shock and concern. And Draco - Draco stood in front of Harry worry coming off him in almost visible waves.

"What was I doing?" Harry groaned. Justin spoke up.

"You were just sleeping quietly when Malfoy came tearing in screaming something was wrong with you. He grabbed you and your hair fell off your scar. It was bleeding. Malfoy took one look at it and started to shout your name and shake you, and then you woke up."

Harry opened his eyes to stare at Draco. They'd tried to pretend that they still hated each other but their newfound friendship was still raw and it was difficult. They had to settle on just ignoring each other in front of others, so the whole school believed that the duel on the Quidditch pitch was still too fresh in their minds for them to try and kill each other again.

Draco cleared his throat and Harry stared at him again, he could hardly believe his eyes, Draco was panicking. No one else could tell, but then no one could read Draco like Harry. He could tell by the way a faint sheen of sweat coated Draco's pale forehead; from the way his pupils expanded, making his eyes look like black pools ringed with a thin sliver of silver.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked the blond warily and Draco started to tremble.

Alarmed, Harry jumped up and felt the compartment spin around him.

His legs felt weak and buckled under his sudden weight.

In a blurred movement, Draco caught the dark-haired boy and they both sank onto the soft seats.

"Harry... your heart stopped." Draco gasped, still shaking.

Everyone stared at the pale Slytherin.

"Nonsense, Draco. I'm still here, just had a bad dream."

"Your heart stopped beating! I felt it stop!" Draco screamed hysterically.

Justin and Ginny jumped and clung to each other at the sudden outburst. Ron dropped the card he was holding and the whole deck exploded without anyone noticing.

"You felt Harry's heart stop?" Hermione squeaked, staring wide-eyed at the two boys in front of her. One was busily wiping the blood from his face and the other was looking quite insane.

Draco slumped back in his seat with a tired sigh, pulled a clean silk hanky from the pocket of his dark trousers and pressed it against Harry's bleeding scar.

Neither boy acted as if there was anything strange about the simple gesture, but the others looked at them. They never would have guessed that only a week ago they had been worst enemies. They were acting like brothers.

"The spell that we put on one another sort of bonded us. Our hearts beat at exactly the same time and we can feel the others beating in sync with our own." Draco began to explain, dabbing gently at Harry's head and sounding calmer as he spoke.

"I was sitting further down the train with Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, Pansy and the rest of those losers when I felt my heart slow. I realised that it wasn't my heart but Harry's and ran out of the compartment. Unfortunately I didn't know where Harry was, so I ran from compartment to compartment, feeling his heart get slower with every passing second. When I finally got here, Harry's heart was hardly beating at all. I ran in, shouted at you that something was wrong with him and turned towards him. I knew then that his heart had completely stopped and I grabbed him. I saw his bleeding scar and I knew who was to blame, but not how to get Harry back, so I started to shake him and call his name, reaching out to him with my mind. I felt something inside me pulling, like on a very thin string that could snap any second. I pulled harder and Harry's heart began to beat again. I was so relieved."

Ginny and Justin were now looking very confused, Harry could almost see them thinking the same thing. Malfoy relieved about Harry?

Ron looked grim and Hermione just plain worried.

Quietly, the clever brunette got to her feet and ushered Ginny and Justin out of the compartment, telling them to stay in the other prefect cabin and give Harry some space.

She came back in and sat down, and not a word was spoken for twenty minutes as Ron quietly packed away the cards. Harry gave Draco back his hanky after quietly magicking the blood stains away, and Hermione packed her book away.

Finally, when the tension in the room seemed a bit more relaxed, Ron turned to his best friend.

"Harry, exactly what happened in your dream?"

Harry frowned; the dream was slipping away like water in his hands.

"I can't really remember, something about Voldemort..." - Ron and Hermione flinched - "bathing in my blood..." - now they shuddered - "and there was a box..........no it's gone. Dammit!"

The emerald-eyed boy slumped back in his seat miserably. He desperately wanted something to cheer his friends up, to relax them, but he couldn't think of anything.

Hermione leaned forward and patted his arm.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Harry, it's not your fault."

Harry nodded, not convinced, and Draco could tell. He slapped his friend on the back, having thought of a way to cheer him up.

"C'mon Harry, listen to Granger, she knows what she's talking about, after all she's smart!"

A mischievous sparkle came to Harry's eyes and he pulled an upset face, pouted and turned his back on Draco, his arms folded across his slim chest.

"And I'm not?" He pretended to sob.

Ron snorted and Hermione tried to frown but found herself grinning instead. The atmosphere in the compartment was instantly lighter.

Draco kept his face expressionless, but Harry could see his eyes dancing in the reflection in the window.

"'Course you're not. Honestly, Harry, you've been hit around the head so many times, it's caused permanent damage!"

Harry turned to face his blond friend grinning.

"Maybe so, but I still thrash you at martial arts and Quidditch!"

Both boys continued to banter, relaxing to the point that they had forgotten that they had told no one that they were learning martial arts.

Hermione glanced at a very confused Ron who stared at her, shrugged and turned back to the playfully arguing Harry and Draco.

"Ha!" Draco exclaimed. "Well, I can beat you into the ground at fencing!"

"Yeah and I can beat you in every class."

"Not Potions!"

"Well Snape's a git!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Well I bet I'm number one most shaggable boy and you're number two!"

"Ha! I bet you're still a virgin!"

"Am not!"

"Prove it!"

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Ewwwwwwww!"

"Yeah, well, anyway I bet you're still a virgin!"

"Am not!"

"Now you prove it!"

"Cho Chang."

There was a muffled thump, and both boys turned to see Hermione in a dead faint on the floor.

"Oh, bugger." Harry sighed.

"I think we took that a little far, Draco." The blond nodded sheepishly.

The dark-haired boy pulled his wand from where it was hidden, in a holster under his robe on his left arm. He stood up and stepped over to his fallen friend, kneeling down by her side while Ron and Draco looked on worriedly.

Hermione's face was pale, but her full lips were soft and red. Her long lashes lay like two black crescent moons on a white night sky. Her hair had grown out of its frizziness and now lay in long, golden brown curls around her delicate face, spreading away from her across the carpet floor in small, rich rivers. Her beautiful body was lying limp and Harry felt a tightness around his heart. But he couldn't feel that way for Hermione - it could ruin their friendship, plus she didn't feel the slightest thing for him above friends. Not to mention that she would be in immense danger if Voldemort found out. No, he could not love Hermione, but Harry knew he did.

"Enervate," he muttered, pointing his wand at Hermione's head. She groaned slightly and her eyelids fluttered.

"Hermione love, wake up." Harry whispered so Draco or Ron wouldn't hear.

"Just give me a second, handsome," she dazedly murmured. Harry's heart speed up, she must be disorientated, he quickly decided. Then, oh shit Draco can feel this, he inwardly groaned and hoped Draco put it down to relief as Hermione opened her eyes.

"Wakey wakey." He sang playfully and helped Hermione to sit up, she still looked rather dazed.

"I just had the weirdest dream," she said. Ron raised his eyebrows in interest. Harry and Draco just stared at her.

"I dreamt that Malfoy said he'd lost his virginity to Pansy Parkinson and that Harry said he'd lost his to Cho Chang."

Ron went beetroot red and had to turn away to smother his laughter, as Harry and Draco shuffled their feet.

"That, um, wasn't a dream 'Mione." Harry said in a very small voice as Ron's shoulder shook and he snorted even louder. Harry reached out a hand to smack his shoulder, but Ron continued to snicker.

"It wasn't?" She whispered. Both boys shook their heads.

"When? How? Where?" She spluttered and Ron got control over his laughter and turned back to listen. Draco spoke first.

"Summer holidays before sixth year. I got drunk. Malfoy Manor."

Harry turned to him.

"Is that the reason why you buggered off to Diagon Alley?"

Draco nodded.

"Father found us and was angry that I should have such bad taste. I said that, in my drunken state, she looked quite attractive and... it kind of progressed from there."

"Oh, right." Harry turned back to see Ron and Hermione staring at him expectantly, Draco sniggered behind him and poked him in the back.

"Fine. Yule ball in fifth year. Cho said she didn't blame me for Cedric and that she knew I'd have done everything I could have. Astronomy tower."

Ron's jaw dropped.

"Fifth year! You lost your virginity when you were fifteen and you never told me!"

Harry frowned at the redhead.

"I promised Cho I wouldn't tell anyone until after she graduated."

Ron just gaped at him, opening and closing his mouth, making his look like a goldfish.

"You were the first guy in our dorm to get laid, and you didn't want to boast?!"

Harry shrugged.

"I've been laid plenty of other times since then."

Ron looked like he was about to have a stroke.

"And to think, all the guys and I were making bets as to whether or not you were gay!"

Draco burst out laughing and didn't stop under Harry's angry gaze.

"Gay?" The blond spluttered. "That's got to be one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard!"

Harry folded his arms across his chest as he glared at the laughing Slytherin, but then a smirk played across his full lips.

"I didn't say what sex the other people I got laid by were, did I?"

That shut Draco up.

Three pairs of startled eyes, one sky blue, one chestnut brown, and one swirling silver stared at the tall, sleek young man standing before them as if they'd never seen him before.

Harry tried to keep a straight face but couldn't stop himself. He collapsed into merry peals of laughter at the others' shock.

"Oh, your faces! Nah, I'm straight. I've got nothing against gay people; it's just not my forte."

Ron got over his shock and chuckled at Harry's joke.

"Well I should hope not Harry otherwise Seamus and Dean won't be very popular with you."

"They finally got together then?"

"Yep."

"Thank God! I don't think I could take another day of them drooling over each other then blushing and turning away when the other one catches them at it."

Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and decided it was time to change the subject. Two near-heart attacks in under an hour was not a good sign.

"Er, Harry?"

He turned towards her, his eyes shining in laughter that did not quite hide the deep, wise sadness that lay beneath.

"Yes, my sweet pea?" Ron and Draco chuckled.

"Last night, in the hospital wing, when Malfoy- um, Draco, started to cry, you cast a charm on Madame Pomfrey's door to stop her coming out, but you did it without your wand. How?"

All trace of humour left Harry's face and Hermione felt a sadness cloak around her heart. Harry rarely smiled or laughed any more, but every time he did, the people around him cherished his light and warmth.

Draco had frozen in his seat and watched the raven-haired boy with huge silver eyes.

Hermione only had to look at Harry's face to know the answer.

"Oh, god," she breathed. "You really can do wandless magic. I thought it might be just a fluke."

Ron's eyes were popping out of his head. His best friend grew more mysterious each day. There was always something new to set him even further apart from others.

"Harry and I are both wandless." A voice came from the corner of the carriage. Ron and Hermione turned to stare at the almost deathly pale and drawn Draco Malfoy.

"Both?" The chestnut-haired girl hiccupped.

The blond Slytherin nodded grimly then stood and went to stand beside Harry.

"Yes. But we only found out about each other a week ago." Harry said crisply.

"When we get back from the holidays we're going to train each other, finding our limits." Draco added.

Harry had to hide a small smile, despite the serious conversation, at seeing Hermione's face drop slightly. They had already thought of the thing she had been about to suggest.

"Please, it's vital that you don't tell anyone." Harry now said almost desperately to his two dear friends. Draco nodded.

"Yeah. If no one finds out, no Death Eaters or Voldemort will be expecting it. One point up to the side of the light."

Ron was just about to agree when he realised who had just said that piece of smart knowledge.

"Hang on Malfoy," he snarled. "Your father's in You-Know-Who's inner circle. Harry may now trust you but I still don't. What's to say you're just pretending and are really working for... for him?"

"For Merlin's sake Ron, just say his goddamned name." Harry muttered. Ron stared at him and the black-haired boy sighed; he seemed to be explaining a lot of things these days.

"Because I can tell he's not lying for two reasons: One, because of the spell I can feel he's not lying. Two, because of Galdon bonding me. Draco's own feelings are telling me he's not lying."

Ron gulped.

"Oh, right," he said weakly.

Harry saw that Hermione looked like she was itching to ask question after question about being a wandless to the two tired boys, and Harry felt he couldn't take that at the moment.

"Anyone fancy a game of Exploding Snap?" He said in a voice that clearly pointed out that their discussion was over. Ron quickly agreed then Hermione reluctantly joined in, still dying to find out more.

Harry glanced over at Draco as saw the blond looking confused about something.

"Harry?" Ron asked, indicating the game.

"Just give me a minute."

The sleek teenager moved over to the puzzled Slytherin.

"Draco? You okay?"

The blond rubbed a pale hand across his silver eyes tiredly.

"I'm not sure."

Harry realised Draco didn't want to speak in front of Ron or Hermione so he poked his head out into the corridor to check no one was there then ushered the other boy into the prefects' bathroom, which was next door.

It was a handsome room with gold and green tiles on the top half of the wall, marble sinks and golden taps.

After checking they were indeed alone in the room Harry cast the same distracting charm on the door that he had used in on Madame Pomfrey's door.

"How do you mean?" Harry asked, turning back to the silver-haired boy.

Draco frowned at his booted feet before launching into a worried speech.

"Something Weasley said confused me. He said that you trusted me. Harry, it's easy to trust you with my life; you're a Gryffindor, a hero, defender of the light, and the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. But me? I'm a Slytherin. I've tried over the past six years to get you expelled and generally make your life miserable. My father's a Death Eater. My family is a pureblood line that has all ways dealt in dark magic. So why do you trust me so much Harry? You trust me just as much as Granger and Weasley. Why?"

Harry smiled warmly at the worried teenager in front of him.

"Well, let's see. Only one thing you said about yourself is really about you, the rest doesn't matter. So you're a Slytherin? Doesn't mean you're immediately evil, just ambitious. Hell, the sorting hat wanted to put me in Slytherin as I was so ambitious - not to mention I'm a Parseltongue." Draco gaped at what he'd just been told but Harry carried on. "You're father's a Death Eater? So what. You and your father are two different people. Just because he went to crawl on his knees in front of Voldemort doesn't mean you have to, or are going to. Your family has always dealt in dark magic? Same thing with your father, you don't have to. Other people aren't in control of your destiny, Draco, only you are, so at the end of the day it's all ways your choice as to what you do with your life. Trying to get me expelled and make my life miserable? Well I won't deny that was you. But we were children with childish grudges; everything was black and white for us. Gryffindor and Slytherin; our houses have a deep rivalry with each other so that was one thing against us from the start, because of that we were expected to hate each other. Also I denied your offer of friendship on the train, choose Ron, a poor, muggle-loving pureblood - plus a Weasley, who you Malfoys have been at war with for centuries - over you. Also, your father would still have had strict control over your life at that age, and I expect that throughout your childhood you've been fed stories about how bad little Harry Potter defeated your father's Master. You were told to hate me and - being a child, not wanting to make your father angry or he would hurt you again - you did. But it was all a mask, Draco, and I've seen the true you hidden underneath. The person you really are, that I have seen is strong, kind, loyal and smart. I would and do trust you with my life because of that. I'm willing to let all the past childish rivalries drop, as both our masks have been pulled down and we know each other now for who we really are."

Harry held out his strong hand and it hovered in the air between them. Draco stared at it, reminded of a very similar scene in first year when he had offered his hand and friendship to Harry - and Harry had denied both.

Slowly Draco reached out his own strong but pale hand and clasped Harry's, shocked at the wise words that Harry had said and the feeling that the midnight-haired boy had put into them.

Draco smiled shyly at Harry, and Harry positively beamed at him, then pulled him into a tight hug, filled with warmth and trust.

"C'mon. Let's head back. Ron and 'Mione will probably think we're beating the crap out of each other again and come to drag you off me."

Draco laughed as Harry removed the spell from the door.

"Are Weasley and Granger that protective of you?"

Harry smiled fondly but the sadness in his eyes surfaced.

"You become pretty close to someone who's saved your life countless times, and you theirs. And call them Ron and Hermione, they've already half accepted you 'cos of the spell."

Draco followed Harry back into the compartment and was meet with Ron's and Hermione's cries;

"What took you so bloody long?"

"You said you'd be gone a minute, not ten!"

Harry walked over and sat down next to Ron on the plush seats, a small grin on his tanned face.

"Sorry guys, we just got really involved."

Ron pushed the cards back together, shuffled them and began to deal them out.

Draco stood by the door, feeling a little lonely. They were such a close group of friends, it would take a sledgehammer to break through and become part of their group. Hell, the Weasley girl had been trying since she had first arrived at Hogwarts and still hadn't succeeded. Harry was right; a strong bond was formed when you saved each other's lives, probably one of the strongest bonds there ever could be.

Just as the Slytherin was turning to sadly leave his only real friend and go back to his fake, backstabbing ones, the raven-haired boy looked up.

"Come on Draco, aren't you going to join us?"

A feeling Draco couldn't quite describe filled his body; it felt wonderful, and he was half shocked to realise tears had started to form in his eyes. Quickly blinking them away - after all it wouldn't do for anyone to see a Malfoy crying, knowing that both Ron and Hermione had seen him sobbing on Harry's shoulder was bad enough - he turned and sat down next to Hermione. She made no complaints, just handed him his cards, but Harry gave him a knowing glance which said he knew all too well how close Draco had come to crying in utter happiness.

"I suppose I should warn you that I'm the champion of this game in Slytherin," he drawled. Ron snorted loudly but not nastily.

"We'll see about that, Draco."

Harry sat back with a soft smile playing over his lips. Ron and Hermione had accepted Draco. In fact, he mused, I think they probably accepted him when they saw his scars and he cried in my arms, showing that he was human after all.

The rest of the journey passed pleasantly. Ron and Draco were drawing for first place when Harry suddenly came tearing through, the deck not exploding on him once as he scooped up card after card with Hermione cheering him on.

When the plump witch with the food trolley came around, Draco and Harry bought a bit of everything for all of them. And, for some excitement, they let off all their chocolate frogs at once. For ten minutes, the compartment was filled with brown blurs and loud shrieks of laughter.

An hour later, Ginny popped her head in to see what remained of Draco Malfoy.

Her eyes bulged when she saw them all laughing and fooling around, not fighting, with Ron and Hermione sitting next to each other having a thumb war, and Draco and Harry together in the opposite seat, writing something on a piece of parchment, leaning on each other as they bent forward to write or laugh.

After listening to the group's conversation for a few minutes, the fiery haired girl noticed that they were calling Malfoy by him first name, and he theirs!

Just as she was about to withdraw her head, Draco looked up from the parchment, his silver hair swinging around his perfect face in a shimmering wave.

Ginny felt her heart catch in her throat. Her chest felt too tight and a blush started to rise in her cheeks. No! She wasn't meant to feel like that! She loved Justin. There was no way she could be attracted to Malfoy.

Even when he stares at me with those huge, mysterious silver eyes. She mused dreamily.

The silvery blond kept his face and eyes expressionless as he stared into Ginny's face, then he grinned, and it was a real grin, lighting up every part of his beautiful face. He winked.

Suddenly Ginny felt very silly and she smiled and winked back. Draco's face glowed even more.

Ginny finally withdrew her head, utterly confused but happy.

She slowly walked off down the corridor looking for Justin, but feeling as if she were leaving the one she really belonged with behind.

* * *

The train pulled into platform 9 3/4, and as soon as the mighty scarlet engine had stopped, students began piling out of the doors, chatting happily and calling to their parents.

Harry and Hermione, being the Head Boy and Head Girl, had to check all the carriages to make sure no luggage had been left, no one was lying forgotten and fast asleep, and that any damage was repaired. When they finally got onto the platform, it was almost empty, with the last few stragglers waiting to go through the barrier into muggle London.

"C'mon 'Mione. Sirius will be waiting!"

"I'm coming, Harry. Oh, I wish my trunk wasn't so heavy!"

Harry glanced around the platform and watched the last group of students step through the barrier.

He bent down and muttered and spell over Hermione's trunk, making it feather light, casting it with a quick flick of his long fingers.

"Try it now."

There was a gasp.

"Harry! You must be careful when you do that!" Hermione chided.

"All right, all right. So that's the thanks I get for helping you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry. Thank you very much. But really Harry you must be careful. That goes for you too, Draco!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Harry turned to bellow at Ron to hurry up; the redhead was going over some last minute strategy plans for the Quidditch team. Ron took his job of being co-captain with Harry very seriously.

Draco, sensing his chance, pulled Hermione to one side.

"Keep an eye on Harry over the holidays; he's already been through so much, and it would be nice for him to have a chance to laugh and have fun without having to look over his shoulder all the time."

Hermione looked up into Draco's cloudy silver eyes, swirling with sadness and pain.

Any doubts, however small, she may have been harbouring over the new relationship with Harry and the Slytherin, evaporated on the spot.

"I'm always keeping an eye on Harry."

The pale teenager smiled softly.

"When are you going to tell him?"

The gentle question caught the curly, chestnut haired young woman off guard.

"Tell him what?" She squeaked.

"That you love him."

Hermione gaped. Was she that transparent? Draco seemed to guess what she was thinking and laughed quietly.

"Don't worry, you hide it very well. I've just been brought up to notice things like that." His face fell, and he muttered. "So I can manipulate people."

Hermione felt a great wave of pity swell inside of her. She reached up and patted Draco's slumped shoulder.

"Don't worry; you aren't your father's son. Harry could see that, now you must let yourself see it too."

Draco looked at the kind Head Girl standing before him with bemusement and slight surprise.

"You really are one of the most clever people I've ever met, Hermione, apart from Harry of course."

She smiled and opened her mouth to say something when a very annoyed-looking Ron popped up beside her.

"Hermione! Crookshanks got loose. The damn cat is attacking Pig's cage and Harry is too busy laughing to do anything about it!"

Draco chuckled as Hermione rolled her eyes and stormed away followed closely by the bouncing Ron.

"Something funny?" A voice asked behind him.

The Slytherin turned to see Harry leaning casually on his trolley, smiling gently at him.

"Just Ron and Hermione, being themselves. They seem happy when they're arguing."

The wild-haired boy laughed softly.

"Yes, they do, don't they? I wonder if they'll end up getting married?"

Without thinking Draco answered.

"Nah. Hermione's head-over-heels in love with someone else. And I mean love."

Harry instantly wheeled his trolley closer.

"Who?" He hissed. Draco shook his head, inwardly cursing himself with a thousand nasty hexes for letting himself relax so much around the raven-haired boy. He just couldn't help it.

"I'm not telling you."

"Why not?" Harry wailed and Draco couldn't help smiling.

"Because it will be much more fun if you find out by yourself."

"Tell me or I won't get you any Christmas presents."

The silvery blond stared at Harry, any trace of humour gone like a leaf in the wind. His silver eyes went wide with wonder and happiness.

"You're going to buy me a Christmas present?"

Harry shrugged.

"Of course. We're friends, and I know how lonely it is if you don't get anything at Christmas."

Draco was blown away by the fact that someone wanted to give him a present because they liked him. His father only gave him presents because of the ministry witches and wizards that would come around to visit on Christmas Day. Lucius believed they would be put at ease, seeing the heir to Malfoy Manor opening presents. They would ruffle his silver hair and tell him to thank his father for giving him all the lovely gifts, which he would do through gritted teeth; then he had to pretend to be happy as his father would ruffle his hair as well, a lot more roughly than anyone else, silently warning Draco that if he didn't act out the cheerful child there would be a lot of pain later. His mother was too afraid to give him any presents.

"Yeah, thanks Harry. I'm gonna send you one too."

Harry smiled a very caring smile, then reached forward and hugged the blond boy to him.

Draco clung to the boy who had become his first and best friend, feeling the iron hard muscles move under his coat.

"Don't let him grind you down. Fight. And I'll be there to fight with you." Harry whispered in Draco's ear.

Draco's chest tightened in happiness - tightened so much it hurt, but it was a good kind of pain because it meant one thing: he wasn't alone anymore. Harry would always be there to fight with him.

"Thanks, bro," the silver-eyed boy whispered back and felt Harry smile.

"I'll make sure Hedwig sends your presents to your room so Lucius won't see them," he said pulling back and staring at Draco with magnificent green eyes.

"Okay. I'll just send yours to you normally. Merry Christmas, Harry."

Harry smiled a little sadly.

"Merry Christmas, Draco."

Draco smiled tightly, turned, yelled bye to Ron and Hermione who called back, then pushed his trolley towards the gateway back to the muggle world.

Just before he walked through, he turned and looked back across the empty platform. Harry was standing there, staring at him, and Draco suddenly knew why the Dark Lord feared him so. Harry radiated power, power that was stronger than even Dumbledore's. It seemed to come off his body in unstoppable waves, giving hope and confidence to those around him. Draco stared at the tall, midnight-haired, sleek young man whom he had come - over an unbelievably short time - to love like a brother, and felt his courage rising and fear of his father dropping away like a stone thrown into a lake. He wouldn't break, for Harry. He wouldn't be drawn into the dark side, for Harry. He would fight every day until his last breath, for Harry. He would give his life for Harry and somehow knew the dark-haired young man would do exactly the same for him if the need ever arose.

"Goodbye, Harry." Draco whispered and the emerald-eyed boy seemed to hear him and shook his head, sending his dark locks cascading into each other in a shimmering black wave. Draco nodded, understanding.

It was never goodbye.

* * *

"Mum! Mum!" Ron yelled, sprinting across the muggle train station with Ginny close on his heels.

"Oh, my darlings! Ohhhhh, I'm so happy to see you again!" Mrs Weasley cried, scooping both her children into a bone-crushing hug.

Harry wheeled his trolley after them, feeling - as always - a bit shy.

Last year Bill had been kidnapped, in an attempt to make Mr Weasley step down from his place as Minister of Magic and let Voldemort take his place. Harry had also disappeared, but turned up a week later with a barely conscious Bill. Harry himself had been badly wounded while saving the oldest Weasley child. He hadn't seen Mrs Weasley or any of the redheaded family (except Ron and Ginny) since then, and didn't know what the others' reaction would be.

"Hello, Harry dear," said Mrs Weasley very fondly, wrapping the orphaned boy in a motherly hug.

"Hi, Mrs Weasley. How is everyone?" Harry asked politely. Mrs Weasley smiled.

"Why don't you ask them yourself?" She asked, pointing over his broad shoulder.

Harry turned and saw all of the Weasley family grinning at him.

"Hiya Harry!" Cried the twins, bounding forward and wrapping him in a double hug with a resounding brotherly double thump on the back.

"Harry, you've got no glasses!" Fred hollered.

"Ow," was all Harry could say and the twins let go of him, laughing.

The raven-haired boy didn't have time to say anything to them as the rest of the Weasleys descended on him in a crimson wave.

Mr Weasley pulled Harry into a tight hug. Percy wrung his hand. Charlie pounced on him, trying to wrestle him to the ground where he could tickle him. Unfortunately for the redheaded young man, thanks to Harry's skill in martial arts, Charlie was the one to find himself on the floor and Harry wouldn't let him back up until tears of laughter were running down his freckled face. Then Harry turned around and looked straight into Bill's eyes.

"Hello, Harry," the oldest Weasley child said softly.

"Hello, Bill." Harry replied carefully.

The rest of the family went over to speak to Hermione, leaving the two of them alone.

Bill slowly reached out and touched Harry's dragon fang earring. It had been his present to Harry after he had saved his life. It was charmed to grow warm when dark magic was being used around the wearer, and had already saved Harry's life several times.

"I see you've still got that old thing." Harry grinned.

"I think it's a load of junk but don't have the heart to throw it away," he said cheekily then had to duck a playful punch.

"You git! That earring was my favourite!"

Harry laughed.

"I'm joking! I'm joking!"

Bill joined in Harry's merry peals of laughter.

"C'mere," the older man said roughly and wrapped the midnight-haired boy in a tight hug. They'd always been polite and nice to each other, but only while and after Harry was saving Bill's life did they get to really know each other and they'd become firm friends.

"How are you holding up?" Bill asked. Harry shrugged.

"Same old."

The fiery haired young man nodded sadly. "Still getting the nightmares huh?"

Harry sighed.

"Every night. I drifted off on the train and had a really bad one. My scar bled and, apparently, my heart stopped." The colour drained from the Bill's face and he grabbed the younger man's shoulders.

"Merlin, Harry! Have you owled Dumbledore yet? How long did your heart stop for? What was your nightmare about?" Harry shook off Bill's hands, angry with everyone always treating him like a child, then stepping back expecting him to save the bloody world!

"I'm fine Bill. I can't owl Dumbledore 'cos Hedwig's on a delivery. I can't remember what the nightmare was about, and my heart only stopped for a few seconds. For Merlin's sake, why can't everyone just bloody well back off and leave me alone!"

The oldest Weasley child backed away, alarmed at Harry's outburst and flaming green eyes. The rest of the family and Hermione turned towards the two with questions in their eyes as Bill got control over his instinct to turn tail and run away from the powerful and angry seventeen-year-old in front of him. He stepped tentatively forward.

"I'm sorry Harry. We can't help it. We do it because we all love you so much and want to hide you away from everything you have to face that makes you suffer. Every time you're hurt, we all hate ourselves, saying we never did enough for you, and we swear to ourselves that if you survive this time then we'll get a second chance to protect you. You're very special Harry, destiny has laid a hard and heavy path before you and all we want to do is make it lighter for you. Do you know how much it hurts us all to see that deep pain and sadness that's always in your eyes, even when you laugh? To know your childhood and innocence was stolen from you at the age of one, when you parents were murdered before your eyes? To know that you'll soon face You-Know-Who again and may die? I sure as hell know it kills me, and I want to always be there for you. But then it turns out that you're always there for me instead."

Bill took a deep breath, aware that his family and Hermione had edged closer and were listening in utter silence. Harry just stood there, looking down at the chewing gum scattered grey concert floor.

"It kills me too," the raven-haired boy began, so softly that everyone craned forward to hear him. "To know that you are all in such danger just because you care for me. Just because I am who I never asked or wanted to be. It hurts so much to see you all try to be there for me day after day, when I just want to scream at you to get away from me for your own safety, and to know I should be protecting you. Sometimes I just wish Voldemort would come so we can end all this pointless suffering. Even if I die while taking him with me, I'll die with a smile on my face, knowing that everyone I care for is safe."

Bill grabbed Harry tightly by the arms and stared intently into his eyes.

"Don't say that, Harry! You'll live! We know the dangers of caring for you all too well, but we're willing to risk everything for you. So don't you even think that, or I'll knock your block off!"

The wild-haired boy smiled slightly.

"Thanks Bill," was all he said. Bill grinned and wrapped Harry in a brotherly hug, kissing the top of the boy's head.

"God love you, Harry Potter."

"Hear hear," chortled a familiar voice behind them.

Harry and Bill broke apart to see Sirius standing beside Hermione with a big grin on his recently shaved face, a merry twinkle in his dark eyes.

"Sirius!" Harry cried and threw himself into his godfather's arms.

The older man pulled the boy to his chest and hugged him as if he were the only thing that mattered to him - which he was.

Everyone had jumped at the sudden appearance of Sirius, and it took quite a while for them all to calm down. Fred and George were very pleased to see the old prankster; since they had found out he was 'Padfoot', one of the original Marauders, they had practically worshipped him. Charlie and Bill liked the fun-loving Animagus but Percy was still a bit wary every now and again. Mr and Mrs Weasley remembered him from their school days and had quickly accepted him, often talking about the pranks that an eleven-year-old Sirius, James and Remus had pulled on Severus while thirteen-year-olds Arthur and Molly had looked on in amusement. Ron and Hermione were used to him as they had spoken to him since third year and were happy to see him.

Sirius told Harry and Hermione to say goodbye to the Weasleys, as they had to go if they wanted to reach Black Manor before dark.

Harry gave everyone a hug (including Percy), and a kiss on the cheek to Ginny and Mrs Weasley. Then Sirius led him and Hermione away.

Once outside in the snowy, smoky London air the two friends immediately spotted Sirius' huge motorbike parked directly in front of them. It was a beautiful Harley Davidson, lovingly polished until it gleamed, the leather seats soft and comfy from use.

"Muggles can't see it," the older man commented while pulling out his wand. Looking around to see if the coast was clear Sirius turned to Harry and Hermione's trunks and hastily shrunk them, popping them into the pocket of his dragon hide jacket.

Crookshanks' basket, with the cat hissing furiously inside, was strapped firmly onto the back of the motorbike. Sirius happily threw himself astride the huge machine, bouncing and giggling in his seat like a six-year-old boy who'd just been given an extra large bag of sweets.

"Jump on you two. We haven't got all day!"

Harry got on first, lightly resting his hands on Sirius' waist for grip. He was comfortable and totally unafraid as he had been on the motorbike several other times and had greatly enjoyed each experience. He was looking forward to another one.

Hermione got on behind the dark-haired boy looking utterly terrified. She was petrified of heights and made it clear that she wanted to stay firmly on the ground by the death grip she had on Harry's waist. He felt like he was being split in two.

"A little looser, please, 'Mione?" He gasped to the panic-stricken girl sitting behind him. All she could do was groan and hide her head behind Harry's back.

"Here we go!" Yelled Sirius, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

The motorbike roared into life and powered magnificently up into the sky.

After a while, Hermione lifted her head. It didn't really feel like they were flying, as there was only a gentle breeze brushing her face - what she didn't realise was that Harry and Sirius were getting the full blast and were enjoying it immensely.

Soon London was left far behind them and they were soaring over beautiful woods and fields, valleys and villages, all covered in crystal white snow.

After about two hours, the bike began to drop down into a magnificent valley with looming mountains and moors on the cloudy, grey horizon.

Hermione dared herself to look down and saw they were circling over a part of the forest that filled the valley. They were going to crash right into the trees! What was Sirius doing? And why was Harry just sitting there not doing anything about it? She let out a soft whimper and Harry's sharp ears heard it. He let go of Sirius' waist with one hand and slid it up over his shoulder so he could reassuringly pat her soft hair.

"It's okay 'Mione. It's just an illusion to keep muggles away if they fly over. None live in this area right up to the mountains, only wizarding folk."

"Promise?" A small voice squeaked from the middle of his back. The corners of his mouth twitched but didn't form into a smile, as they would have done a few years ago.

"Promise," he said firmly.

Hermione raised her head in time to watch the bike drop down through the glamour and the sight that meet her huge chestnut eyes took her breath away.

A magnificent manor lay stretched out before her made of beautiful grey granite. The hundreds of windows were all lit and warm against the snowy landscape, each window simple in its elegance, ivy grew up one wall of the manor giving it a relaxing touch, and then there were the grounds themselves! A long white driveway stretched up to the house, then curved round to what looked like stables. To Hermione's left lay a huge frozen lake, not as big as Hogwarts' lake, but big enough. Just behind the manor, she could make out the end of a full-sized Quidditch pitch, the three scarlet and gold hoops looking colourful against the white landscape. There were woods fully surrounding the manor, but only after about two hundred acres of grassland, impressive mazes and a large manner of other unique things.

"Black Manor." Sirius sighed happily as the bike lightly touched down on the sparkling driveway outside the huge oak front doors.

"C'mon, you two, before we freeze to death!" The bearded man called jovially as he jumped off the bike and proceeded to untie a very angry Crookshanks.

"It's good to be home!" Harry sang as he leapt off the cooling machine. Sirius grinned proudly at hearing his godson and watched Harry help the shaky Hermione off the bike. She could hardly walk, and was too busy staring open mouthed around her to care.

Sirius walked up to the front doors and placed a gloved hand palm down directly in the middle of them. Slowly and majestically, they swung open without a sound and the owner of the manor walked in, swinging the cat basket in his hands to annoy Crookshanks.

"C'mon 'Mione." Harry grunted, trying to pull her up the steps to the doors. Hermione totally ignored him, still standing and staring around with huge eyes, which, Harry noticed, sparkled beautifully in the dying light.

Knock it off Potter, Harry berated himself angrily, she's your friend, you can't think of her like that.

Hermione still wasn't moving, so with a sigh Harry bent down and scooped her up easily into his arms. She didn't even seem to notice that Harry was carrying her as he walked up the steps and into the brightly light, marble entrance hall. She gazed around at the large, impressive portraits and huge chandelier, then lowered her gaze. Harry felt her jump in his arms as her eyes alighted on the staff that took care of the manor. There was a large group of house elves dressed in smart togas, all beaming and bowing so low their noses touched the floor. There were several ghosts, most dressed like medieval maids and butlers. They all bowed or curtsied once to Harry and Sirius. There was also a human family waiting by the grand staircase. They beamed and rushed forward. The mother curtsied in front of Sirius before she flung her arms around him.

"Master Sirius! It's so lovely to have you back! I hope your journey went well?"

Sirius grinned down at the little woman.

"Fine, Esme my dear."

Esme nodded happily before moving out of the way for the rest of the family.

The father stepped forward and shook Sirius' hand joyfully while he bowed his head.

"Master Sirius, sir."

Sirius smiled.

"John! We'll have to go down to the village for a drink later." John grinned and nodded eagerly.

"It would be my pleasure sir!"

John stepped back to stand with his wife as two teenagers about a year younger than Harry and Hermione stepped forward.

"Ruby! Ash! Have you two been good while I was away?"

Two angelic expressions gazed up at the tall man.

"Of course we have, Sirius!" The girl piped up.

"Yeah, we only dropped half the dungbombs you gave us!" The boy added then clapped a hand over his mouth in mock guilt. His mother frowned at him.

"Ash Rowan Taylor! Your silly stunt had me cleaning the hallway to the west wing for two hours!" Ash hung his dark head as his mother continued.

"I'll let you both stay to say hello to master Harry and his guest before you go straight to the kitchen for spud duty with no magic!" Both of the teenagers groaned but then Ruby nudged Ash in the ribs.

"At least we get to see Harry awhile." Ash grinned.

"Yeah. I've missed him over the autumn, he's so cool!"

"Master Sirius! Master Sirius!" A small voice squealed from one of the passageways leading off the entrance hall. A dark blur shot out and barrelled into the Animagus so hard he almost fell over.

Hermione heard Harry give a deep, rich chuckle that sent shivers down her spine, but she still hadn't noticed that Harry was carrying her.

Harry was standing in the shadows by the doors, the house elves and ghosts had seen them come in but the Taylor family were oblivious to them as they were so intent on Sirius.

Sirius himself meanwhile had managed to untangle himself from the six-year-old girl who was literally jumping up and down in glee.

"Amber, please calm down. It's wonderful that you're back, master Sirius, but where is master Harry please?" Esme asked.

"I've told you how many times, Esme? Just plain Harry, not master Harry, please!" Said Harry lightly, stepping from the shadows. The whole of the Taylor family's jaws dropped at the same time. They had almost forgotten the power that Harry radiated, but they could all see it easily; now the young man that stood before them tall and straight with a clever gleam in his old eyes - emerald eyes that were no longer hidden by glasses. Then they noticed Hermione resting comfortably in his arms, to the Taylor family it was as if he were a dashing young knight who had just saved a beautiful damsel in distress.

"M-m-master Harry." Esme squeaked, dropping into a deep curtsy. Her husband followed with a very low bow, even Ruby and Ash curtsied and bowed before their powerful friend. Harry rolled his eyes in despair and Hermione giggled. Her giggle drew the Taylor's family attention fully onto her and at once Esme jumped upright, curls falling from her loose bun and bouncing against her soft neck.

"Oh, mistress! Are you all right? Do you need me to call the doctor?"

Hermione frowned and looked down at herself. She almost had a heart attack when she realised she was resting comfortably in Harry's strong arms.

The Head Girl of Hogwarts felt a blush start on her cheeks as she slapped her friend lightly on the head.

"Hey, you big lug, you can put me down!"

Harry didn't look entirely convinced and Hermione's heart fluttered at him caring so much for her.

"Are you sure, 'Mione?" He asked with caring concern that almost melted the chestnut-haired girl on the spot.

"Quite sure."

He put her down but kept a firm hand around her small waist, she did not object.

"Poor Hermione's afraid of heights, so riding on the motorbike gave her a little turn."

Esme Taylor nodded in understanding.

"And quite rightly so, too, master Harry! I don't know how you or master Sirius can stand it."

Harry and Sirius both grinned cheekily at her.

"Because we enjoy the rush!" Harry piped up, and Hermione kicked him on the shin, making him yelp in surprise and turn his wounded-puppy eyes on her. Although they were crushing the irritation that had surfaced, she still managed to sound like McGonagall.

"You get into enough danger to last you a lifetime, Harry James Potter!"

"You go, girl." Ruby quietly cheered. Ash gave her an annoyed look.

Amber had had enough of being ignored and ran, squealing, at Harry, who scooped her up and swung her around.

"My little Amber! I was wondering when you'd come and say hello."

Amber giggled, her curly dark hair bouncing around her sweet round face.

"Forgot," was all she said.

Harry froze, then put her down and turned his back, folding his arms sulkily across his chest.

"Oh, well then, I don't want to speak to you if you forget about me."

Amber gave a small wail and threw herself at Harry's legs, clinging to them with all her might.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll never forget ever again! Never ever!"

The raven-haired young man looked down at her and smiled.

"Never ever?"

"Never never ever!" The small girl sobbed.

Harry managed to detach her and knelt down so they were eye-to-eye.

"And I'll never ever forget you, my little Amber."

He raised his arms and Amber gave a beautiful smile before she threw herself into them.

"Awwwwwww." All of the Taylor family, Hermione and Sirius gushed together.

Harry stood up, pulling the little girl up into his arms so he was carrying her on his left hip.

"C'mon 'Mione. Me an' Amber will show you your room." He then turned to face Ruby and Ash.

"'Mione and I will see you two in a little while, so you can get to know each other. Oh, and you should think yourselves lucky, spud duty isn't half as bad as some of the detentions you get at Hogwarts."

Ruby and Ash nodded, beaming, and with a cry of "later Sirius!" Harry led Hermione up the grand marble staircase onto the wood panelled corridor above.

"Harry." Hermione called as she hurried to keep up with his long stride.

"Yes 'Mione?"

"How come Sirius has got such a huge place? I know the ministry compensated him for all the years he spent in Azkaban, but I didn't think they'd given him enough to buy a manor!"

Harry chuckled as he turned down another handsome corridor.

"That's because they didn't. The Black family built Black Manor over six hundred years ago. When Sirius went to Azkaban the ministry were too afraid to sell it. Seemed to think Sirius had put all kinds of dark magic on it. So it was empty, with the house elves and the ghosts keeping it in order until Sirius was pardoned."

He turned into another corridor and walked down it quite away before opening a striking mahogany door on his left.

"This is your room!" The little Amber helpfully piped up from the comfort of Harry's arms.

It was beautiful.

A shimmering, tasteful chandelier hung from the ceiling, filling the room with tiny stars. The carpet covering the cold flagstones was a thick, rich blue, and as soft as a feather. A huge pine bed with blue velvet curtains stood proudly against the far wall. A fireplace - so large Hermione could stand up in it without banging her head - held a fire which was burning cheerfully, filling the room with lovely warmth, contrasting against the cold outside. All the furniture in the room was pine and elegant: A dresser, a wardrobe, a writing table and a bookcase, plus several very comfy looking chairs in addition to the bed filled the room comfortably. Hermione spotted a pair of French windows and walked over to them. She had a wonderful view of the lake and surrounding woods stretching out past her balcony. She noted a blizzard had started, and decided she'd go out onto the balcony tomorrow. She turned and went to investigate the smaller door she had seen to the right of the bed. Past it, there was a marble tiled bathroom to rival that of the Prefects at Hogwarts. A huge sunken bath - as big as a small swimming pool - with a diving board was in the middle of the room with a magic powered Jacuzzi to her left, and a lovely pine bench to her right. The toilet and the sink (both marble) were behind a wall in the corner of the room, giving privacy if another person was in the bath. Hermione left the bathroom and walked slowly over to the thing that had caught her attention the moment she had walked into the room. It was a huge Christmas tree. The thick braches were covered with real icicles that wouldn't melt and soft gold and silver bubbles that couldn't pop.

Hermione turned around to see Harry watching her almost worriedly.

"Like it?" He asked.

"No," she said, and the dark haired boys face fell.

"I love it, you idiot."

An insane grin spread over Harry's face and he began to dance around the room, swinging the laughing Amber in the air. Eventually he put the little girl down and told her to go and help her parents. She got one last hug and then ran out of the door - after making Harry promise that he'd play hide and seek with her soon.

"Harry." Hermione called from where she was poking her head into the wardrobe.

"Yeah?" Harry called back as he glanced out through the door. He wanted to make sure Amber really had gone and hadn't started playing one of her 'games' - games which involved her lying in wait until someone passed, then jumping out at them screaming as loudly as she could - which was very loud.

"You said the house elves and the ghosts looked after the empty manor while Sirius was in Azkaban. So where were the Taylor family?"

Harry laughed and pulled Hermione out from the huge wardrobe.

"You don't miss a thing do you 'Mione."

Hermione blushed furiously, and that made Harry laugh even louder, but he gave her an answer.

"The Taylor family weren't here when the house was empty. This summer when I moved in, Sirius and I went down to the village one day. I was going to meet Sirius in the local pub 'The Dancing Griffin' when I literally bumped into Ruby and Ash, knocked them down in fact. I was so shocked at the state they were in; all dirty rags and skin and bones and dull eyes, they looked half dead, that I completely forgot to apologise. So they got to their feet and apologised to me! Then Ash saw my scar and went very pale. He glanced around before leaning in close and whispered, "you keep our hope alive. We all pray that, one day, a hero like you will come and save us." Before I could do anything, someone called them. They flinched and ran away. Fortunately, I had brought my invisibility cloak... Well, I had planned to play a trick on Sirius. Anyway, I pulled it on and followed them. As I reached them I heard an old, sour-faced guy telling them that the 'master' thought they were getting too fat and that they had to walk home. I followed them out of the village, and they walked for about half an hour. I was fine with the walk, but they were so weak it exhausted them. They finally turned up a long driveway and eventually reached a large manor. They went inside and I slipped in after them. Someone was waiting for them in the entrance hall. It was McNair. He started bellowing at them that they'd taken too long and that he was having an important dinner party that night. He slapped them each across the face before sending them to the kitchen to work."

Harry had sat down on the edge of the soft bed, his face drawn and tight in anger.

"That bastard told them that if they ruined the food, he'd kill Amber! By then I'd seen enough, and I knew I couldn't do anything on my own, so I sprinted back to the village to find Sirius. By the time I found him I'd almost collapsed. It took me twenty minutes to calm down before I could tell him what I'd seen. He was livid and we quickly planned a little 'visit' on McNair later that night.

"We arrived around nine, coming on Buckbeak and Lionmane - Sirius' other Hippogriff and Buckbeak's mate. Sirius' motorcycle would have been too noisy.

"McNair's guests were just leaving. I saw many powerful Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy. Anyway, we waited until they had all gone before we crept inside under my cloak.

"McNair had pulled the whole family into the dining room, and was beating Ash for spilling some wine during the meal. Esme was crying, so were Ruby and Amber. John was begging McNair to stop, but the git was high on power. "Stop?" He bellowed. "Since when has a slave ever asked me to do something for them?" Then he calmed down and pulled out his wand. He had this weird smile on his face. "Well done." He said really quietly. "Because of your foolish actions, you have doomed your son to pay for that mistake with his life." He raised his wand to say the killing curse, and Sirius and I jumped out from under the cloak, pointing our wands at him."

Harry went slightly red and coughed out of embarrassment before carrying on.

"Needless to say, we won. But is Sirius hadn't been there, it might have been a different story- but thankfully it wasn't. McNair was killed. We brought the Taylors back here and looked after them. Once they were completely healed, they decided to stay here working for us, rather than leave. They said they're paying back their thanks for rescuing them. They can leave anytime they want and we'd give them a home and money to help them, but they don't want to."

Harry finished and Hermione sat there staring at him for so long that Harry began to feel slightly uncomfortable.

Hermione knew Harry always played down whatever he did, making it look like other people were always the heroes, and he was just there to help. Ah, well, she'd get the full story from the Taylors later.

"You're a good man, Harry."

She stood up from the comfy chair she'd fallen in while listening to the story, crossed the soft carpet and wrapped her slim arms around Harry's muscular chest in a warm hug.

Harry let his eyes drift shut, wishing that they could stay like this forever. But no, he couldn't, and she wouldn't. He pulled away while he desperately wanted to fall back into her slender arms and breathe in the soft smell of her hair, stare into her sweet face, and kiss her beautiful lips. It took all of his willpower not to do those things, and he half hoped the flash of disappointment he saw flicker across Hermione's face was real, not put there by his mind.

"We both need to get ready for dinner. When the gong goes I'll come and collect you."

Hermione smiled slightly at him.

"I'll be waiting, then."

He grinned, crossed the room and walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

Hermione sighed. She'd been certain she'd felt something in the hug. It had taken all of her willpower not to run her hands through his silky, wild black hair. Not to stare into his old, mysterious emerald eyes and want to lose herself in them forever. And not to kiss his soft, perfect mouth.

"Bullocks," was all she said.

* * *

Draco leaned back into the soft leather of the limo and closed his eyes, letting himself drift.

The quiet murmur of the engine blended into his half-dreams, almost comforting him.

In the dreams between awake and asleep, he wasn't going back to Malfoy Manor. Instead he flung open the door and jumped out. Running back to safety; back to Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny. Back to where he was cared for and even loved (even if it was only brotherly love from Harry and none from the others, it was more than what he was going to get where he was going.)

The limo went over a bump in the tarmac road and with a jerk Draco opened his eyes. Reality was a cold and harsh landscape: frozen and dead.

The blond stared dully out of the tinted window, watching the weak light from the setting sun hidden behind the thick, grey clouds die with the last of his hope. And as the darkness came, so to came his old fear.

It was completely dark by the time they reached Malfoy Manor, and a blizzard had just begun, but Draco could still see clearly through the whirling snowflakes. He watched with dread as the limo turned down the long driveway, seeing the looming monstrosity clawing up to the heavens in the darkness before him.

Maybe he could escape to the village tomorrow and stay out of his father's way.

The limo pulled up in front of the huge, black front doors and the chauffeur got out and walked around to open his door.

"Welcome home, young master," the man said kindly.

Draco knew better than to talk to him; his father would beat him for speaking to a servant unless it was an order.

The blond teenager walked warily up the steps and pushed open the doors with the air of one who was expecting it to turn around and bite his hand off. Nothing happened. The huge black doors slid back without a groan and the massive, dark entrance hall stretched out before him.

Draco walked cautiously in, his dragonhide boots making no noise on the cold, stone floor. There didn't seem to be anyone around and the blond Slytherin let himself relax before hurrying towards the grand staircase that lead up towards his bedroom.

"Draco Salazar Malfoy!" A voice bellowed across the hall. The seventeen-year-old froze with his foot on the first stair. Fear raced like fire up his spine and into the primal part of his brain that just wanted him to get the hell as far away from that voice as possible.

"Yes, Father?" He kept his voice surprisingly calm, but it had a sort of 'I've-abandoned-all-hope' tone.

Draco turned slowly and saw his father standing in the hallway to the dining room.

He was dressed immaculately in black and blood-red robes. The older man also looked furious.

"You dare to go to your room without greeting myself and your mother first!"

Draco did some fast thinking and let the lie slide smoothly out.

"Forgive me, Father, but I thought I should make myself presentable first, so as not to disappoint you, or mother."

It worked. Draco knew his clothes were creased and travel worn from the journey, and his pale face was coated in a cold sweat from fear. His father always liked his things to be as beautiful as possible.

"Very well. But come and see your mother and I immediately afterwards, then dinner will be served."

The imposing man turned and swept away. Only when his father was out of sight did Draco let himself sag with relief. Then the young man slowly pulled himself sadly up the stairs. He seemed older then he had been when he had walked in, like a huge weight had just been placed on his shoulders and was slowly pulling him down.

The young man was so immersed in his terrible miseries that he utterly failed to notice all the human servants peeping out of the passageways to the servants' quarters, watching him in the deepest sympathy.

* * *

Hermione was just adding the final touches to her hair when a magical gong ran throughout the whole manor.

Harry would be coming to get her shortly, and the butterflies in her stomach were evolving into elephant butterflies.

Could he ever love her?

She stared at herself in the mirror.

"You look beautiful, dear," the mirror whispered. "That handsome young man won't know what's hit him."

Hermione blushed. She seemed to be doing that an awful lot since she'd arrived here.

"Thank you," she replied shyly, and tried desperately to see what the mirror had meant. Beautiful? Her? Okay, her hair wasn't frizzy anymore and had become a lot longer as the years passed, but there was nothing special about it. Her face was plain. Admittedly, her skin was lightly tanned and clear, but she had two boring brown eyes, a nose that she felt was a tad too big and simple lips, not very full. She was quite petite, standing at 5' 6, while Harry and Ron towered at 6' 0. Hermione had always felt she was too skinny; she had put on sleek, feminine muscles but she still felt almost ridiculously bony. Altogether a disappointment, she thought miserably, face it Hermione, Harry will never fall in love with you.

There was a knock on the door.

"It's me 'Mione. Can I come in?"

She gulped. What if he didn't like the dress robe?

"Yeah. C'mon in."

She heard the door open behind her and felt an icy finger of fear shoot down her spine. She forced herself to turn and found herself looking at a so-damn-perfect-he's-beautiful Harry, who was wearing black dress robes seamed with gold that showed off his broad shoulders and slim waist. It took ever fibre in her body to stop herself throwing herself forward at him, to land in his strong arms, to look into his painfully beautiful eyes, then kiss him.

She was too busy drooling over him at first to notice Harry had frozen halfway through shutting the door with a gob-smacked look on his face. The second Hermione did notice, she panicked.

"What? Do I look that bad?"

He carried on staring at her but somehow managed to shake his head.

"You look like an angel," the midnight haired young man said huskily. Hermione's cheeks flamed red again.

"Really?" She asked, confused.

"Really." Harry said firmly as he stepped towards her.

"What do you see when you look at me?" The chestnut-haired girl questioned before she could stop herself then clapped a hand over her mouth. But it was out now.

"I mean- ummm- when I look in the mirror I see a plain nobody. Why d'you say I look like an angel?"

Harry smiled gently and stepped in front of her, so close that if she reached out a hand she would touch his chest.

"Then you're blind. You must know you're the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts."

Hermione was staggered.

"What?" She spluttered. Harry laughed.

"You're so sweet when you're confused."

He casually reached out a hand and ran it softly down her cheek; a trail of white fire was left behind it, soaking into her skin.

"You're beautiful. Please don't think you're anything less 'Mione."

They were leaning in towards each other, almost falling, and the only thing to catch onto was each other.

Hermione raised her face and shut her eyes. The last thing she saw was Harry lowering his head and letting his brilliant eyes fall shut as well.

Their lips gently brushed, setting off an explosion of fireworks in Hermione's head. This was what she'd been waiting for all these years and now it was happening! She nearly blacked out at how wonderful it was. And their lips had only brushed.

Suddenly there was a polite cough at the door, shattering the magical moment into a thousand jagged pieces.

Harry spun around with his eyes flashing, immediately placing himself in front of Hermione who had barely registered what was happening.

It was Esme.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but Master Sirius is getting a bit impatient."

Harry's shoulders slumped with equal measures of relief and misery.

"Tell him we're just coming, if you please, Esme."

The older woman curtsied and hurried away.

Harry turned back to Hermione.

"We'd better go down," he said softly.

Hermione tried to hide her anger, frustration, longing and sadness as she nodded and took the arm that he held out to her.

Together they swept from the room, burying the want and love for each other deeper and deeper with every step they took away from their near-kiss.

* * *

Draco was feeling very lonely.

He'd changed into smart black robes after a much-needed shower, and then one of the maids had lead him down to the drawing room.

Draco puzzled briefly over why the servants were always so nice to him, but he quickly brushed the thought aside, as he needed all his wits about him to face his father.

The maid gave him an encouraging smile and a curtsey as he stepped through the handsome mahogany doors, into the drawing room.

The room was impressive with huge gothic windows on the left of the door, showing an excellent view of the snow-covered estate. Several dark bookcases were on the far wall and between the middle ones was a fireplace large enough to park a car in. A fire was crackling impressively on the hearth as Draco raised his eyes to stare at the comfy but elegant armchairs littered around the room. His mother was sitting, quietly reading, half-hidden in the shadows in the corner. The poor woman looked like she wished nothing more than to be forgotten.

His father was pacing in front of the fire, swishing a fine fencing sword through the still air, getting the feel of it.

As Draco walked slowly down the room, over the deep forest green carpet, portraits of his ancestors that he passed looked down at him with possibly a trace of sympathy in their eyes. But these were all pure-blood Malfoys and a Malfoy never let his or her feelings show clearly on their face.

"Ah, Draco," his father said as he stopped pacing and turned to face him with the sword held loosely in his hand.

"Father," the teenager drawled, his expressionless Malfoy mask perfectly in place.

"Welcome home Draco," his mother whispered from the chair in the corner, then cowered back as Lucius glared at her.

"How has school been?" The man carried on, completely ignoring his shaking wife.

"Fine, father."

"And have you been spreading the word of our Lord?" It almost came out as a hiss. Suddenly the room seemed much darker, with the shadows leaning in on Draco.

"I have, Father."

"Have you managed to get to anyone in Gryffindor, so we can spy on Potter?"

Draco swallowed. His throat felt as though someone had poured a bucket of sand down it.

"No, Father, they're very loyal to their hero."

Lucius took a slow, deliberate step towards him.

"Then you must try again, Draco."

Another step.

"I'll not accept failure."

The sword whipped out and Draco was suddenly aware of a needle sharp pain at the base of his throat.

"I-I won't fail, Father."

Lucius grinned at the slip in his son's speech, proving that - even with his expressionless face - the little dragon was scared. The older man pushed the sword deeper and it broke the perfect pale skin. Draco felt the warm blood start to trickle down under his collar.

"You had better not, for your sake, boy."

The older Malfoy lowered the sword and stared at his only son and heir. There was something different about the boy that he couldn't put his finger on.

"Dinner." Lucius said briskly, to take his mind off his son.

Narcissa quietly put the book down a glided out of the room. Draco followed slightly behind her, too proud to rub his painful neck or to clean away the blood that stained his marble white skin. Lastly, Lucius stepped out of the drawing room and noticed a few maids, huddled behind and old suit of armour, watching Draco sadly as the young man strode down the hall, silver eyes flashing as if daring someone to ask him why he had blood on his collar and neck.

"Get back to work!" Lucius snarled at the maids. They curtsied hurriedly and scuttled off down the corridor, looking fearfully back over their shoulders to stare at him.

Lucius drew his wand from the sleeve of his robe and twirled it through his fingers, enjoying the feel of the smooth wood. He'd have a little fun with Draco tonight.

Then, laughing cruelly, the master of Malfoy Manor turned and strode off down the dark corridor after his terrified wife and fearful son.

* * *

Harry was furious with himself.

He'd gone back to his wing - the North Wing - to change. He'd pulled on a pair of black robes seamed with gold and, after waiting for an hour, had heard the gong ring through the manor and had hurried to fetch Hermione.

Harry had knocked on her door, calling out while he did so and he heard a faint "Yeah. C'mon in." He'd opened the door, stepped in and froze.

Hermione was standing across the room in a white, figure hugging, silver seamed satin robe. Her hair had been piled on top of her head with several loose ringlets falling gracefully around her face. Her make-up was lightly applied and matched her look - light, fragile and mysterious.

When she'd asked him if she looked that bad, he'd given her an honest answer then cursed himself for letting it slip. It had progressed from there and they'd ended up almost kissing.

It had been....................................unbelievable.

And it hadn't even been a proper kiss, just a brush of lips on lips.

Then Esme had come in and he'd felt relief that it wasn't anything or anyone dangerous and relief that they hadn't kissed, as things would have got a lot more complicated from then on. But he had also felt a terrible disappointment that they hadn't kissed. It had been so magical just to touch her cheek.

Now, Harry sat at the magnificent pine table in the dining room completely confused over the feelings he had received from Hermione after the near-kiss.

Could she have felt so much disappointment and sadness because they hadn't kissed? Or perhaps she'd felt like that because he had almost forced himself on her.

Harry stared across the table at Hermione, who was quietly eating her dinner, simultaneously trying to understand and completely ignore Sirius' small talk.

"Harry!" A voice broke through his thoughts... or maybe it was the piece of broccoli that bounced off his dark head.

"Huh? What?" Harry jerked his head off his hand and blinked stupidly, blushing slightly at how foolish he must have looked, gazing misty-eyed across the table at one of his best friends.

Sirius had a very evil grin on his face as he asked innocently; "You all right Harry? You were miles away."

Harry spoke the first reply that came into his head.

"Yeah I'm fine, just wondering about the N.E.W.T's."

Sirius looked horrified and Harry couldn't stop himself snorting with laughter at the look.

"How could you betray me like this Harry! We made an agreement that you weren't going to worry about those confounded exams until June."

Hermione choked suddenly on her butterbeer.

"But the exams are in July!" She squealed. "How is Harry expected to revise properly for these important tests in under a month?!"

Harry snorted again but the smile didn't reach his old eyes; it rarely did.

"He's just teasing, 'Mione."

Hermione went a lovely shade of red and muttered; "Oh. Of course he would be."

Later when dessert was being served Harry glanced at the clock on the impressive mantelpiece. It was just coming up to exactly ten o'clock.

10 seconds... 9...

Ruby and Ash walked in carrying two jugs of custard and cream between them.

8... 7...

Little Amber wandered in and stole a cookie off the table.

6... 5...

Esme saw and started to gently scold the child while John looked on chuckling.

4... 3...

Sirius laughed and offered Amber the whole plate of cookies.

2...

Sirius demanded the entire Taylor family share the wonderful dessert with them.

1...

The Taylor family seated themselves at the table.

0

A terrible pain gripped Harry's chest so suddenly he couldn't even cry out. It was a gut-wrenching fear and a pain not unlike the Cruciacius curse. It felt as though someone was driving a thousand hot needles into his heart, shattering it into a thousand jagged pieces. But, of course, it wasn't his heart.

"Harry! Harry! Are you all right?"

The midnight-haired boy somehow managed to look up into Hermione's worried eyes.

Sirius and the Taylor family had frozen with forks halfway to their mouths, looking at him in puzzlement and concern, wondering why Harry had suddenly dropped his own fork and clutched his chest, breathing unevenly.

The Boy Who Lived stumbled to his feet, knocking his chair over backwards and scattering his cutlery everywhere.

"He's hurting Draco, Hermione. Oh, Merlin, he's so scared."

Hermione's delicate hands clapped to her mouth.

Sirius and the Taylor family, who knew nothing of the turn of event at school, looked even more confused.

"Um," began Sirius, looking as serious as he had when he'd first met Harry after escaping Azkaban, "is there something you haven't told me yet, Harry?"

But Harry was staring off into space again, muttering dark curses under his breath. The room suddenly plummeted in temperature and the candles flickered out until the only light was coming form the fireplace, filling the room with flickering shadows and splashing lines of darkness across Harry's face. He began to look like some sort of beautiful but very dangerous spirit. His emerald eyes were burning with anger, literally, giving off an eerie glow that filled the room with a light he knew all too well - he saw it whenever a Dementor got too close to him. It was the light of Avada Kedavra.

Hermione recognised what was going on. Harry was really really pissed off. She'd only seen it twice before; when Voldemort had sent him a letter, taunting him about how he'd kidnapped Bill - the closest thing he had to a big brother, as he loved all the Weasleys and thought of them as his own family. It had happened then and the other time was when Voldemort had attacked Harry on the grounds of Hogwarts.

"Duck!" She screamed, remembering the terrible power that was wielded by Harry when he was in a blind rage.

Bang!

The wine glass near Harry's plate exploded. Then the rest of the glasses up and down the length of the table did the same. Next the table itself split in half. A jagged line the shape of a lightning bolt ran from one end to the other.

Amber started to cry and the sound of a scared child brought Harry back to himself, the eerie green light vanished and his eyes stopped glowing.

"Oh Amber! I'm so sorry if I scared you!"

He kicked his chair irritably and looked quite shocked as it slid down the entire length of the long room.

Hermione walked around the now ruined table, white robes rustling slightly and came to stand in front of him. She reached out and placed a slim hand on his broad shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Harry but there's nothing we can do for the moment. You must just hope he's not too badly hurt and owl him tomorrow. It's all you can do."

Harry was quiet for a second and in that second his eyes became ever older and the sadness deepened.

"You're right Hermione. Please excuse me. Thank you for the wonderful dinner Esme, John, Ruby, Ash and Amber."

He strode swiftly from the room leaving Hermione to explain just what the hell had happened.

The raven-haired boy walked quickly down the hallways, ignoring the whispering and pointing portraits. He turned into his wing and stormed into his living room still feeling the pain and fear coming from Draco.

He yanked off his robes; underneath he had on a loose pair of black trousers a black vest and a pair of comfy boots. He hurried into his exercise room and bound his hands tightly, then began a furious workout trying to take away his helplessness. It didn't work.

After a few more minutes the pain stopped so suddenly Harry froze halfway through a back flip and crashed onto the floor, which had a softening spell on for exactly that sort of thing.

After a few seconds of lying dazedly on the floor Harry realised Draco's heart had slowed down, roughly the same speed of a sleeping persons heart. Which could only mean one thing.

The bastards beaten him so hard he's blacked out, Harry fumed silently as he pulled himself to his feet.

With a snarl he grabbed a throwing knife and aimed it at the human shaped target at the other end of the room. It parted from his hand like a bullet from a gun, ripped through the air and landed with a dull thud directly in the targets groin.

"Wow. You really are pissed off."

Harry spun around to see Sirius standing in the doorway.

"The bastard isn't fit to lick Draco's boots, let alone be called Father by him!"

Sirius sighed and stepped into the room, running a hand through his long, dark hair.

"Listen, I know how you feel at the moment."

"No, you bloody well don't!"

Sirius caught Harry's shoulder.

"Yes I do! You feel utterly helpless because you can feel his misery and pain but you can't do anything because you can't know where the hell he is. You hate yourself for being so useless, hate yourself almost as much as you hate the person hurting him."

They stared into each other's eyes for an endless moment before Harry drew a great, shuddering gasp and whispered,

"How did you know?"

Sirius let go of Harry's shoulders and turned away. He seemed to be reliving something painful and yet wonderful at the same time.

"Because the same thing happened to me in my second year."

"What? With who?"

Sirius laughed hollowly and turned to face Harry, his eyes brimming with silver tears.

"Can't you guess? Your father."

Harry's mouth almost his the floor and Sirius laughed for real this time, wiping the tears away.

"Close your mouth before you catch flies."

The wild haired boy did close his mouth then asked a question that had immediately planted itself into the front of his mind.

"You and my father used to hate each other?"

Sirius grinned.

"On we loathed each other. You see, we both fell in love with a beautiful, kind, red-haired girl called Lily Evans, but she only loved one of us in return. We were both friends with Remus but only I was friends with Peter."

Sirius' face twisted at the mention of his old friend.

"Anyway I crept out one night with Peter to set up a trick on the Slytherins at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. James, Lily and Remus saw me and followed. Anyway, to cut a long story short your father and I ended up duelling. Not as powerfully as you and Malfoy because we were a lot younger than you. But the same thing happened to us."

Harry started, his emerald eyes wide.

"What? The spell forcing you to say itself? The golden lightning? Everything?"

Sirius nodded.

"Everything. And just like you and Mal-um Draco we started getting on instantly. Found out we were as alike as peas in a pod! That was why we hated each other so much!"

Sirius walked over and picked up another throwing knife, weighing it in his hands.

"Imagine if you will what would have happened if your father and I had carried on hating each other."

Harry stared then the answer came to him.

"You would have never had told mum and dad to use Peter instead of you for their Secret Keeper. Voldemort may never have killed them and you wouldn't have gone to Azkaban for murders that you didn't commit."

"Yes. And you would never have defeated Voldemort; you would never have become The Boy Who Lived."

Harry snorted.

"You think I like that?"

Sirius shook his head sadly.

"No Harry, I don't think you like it but it's who you are."

Harry gazed blankly at the target on the far wall.

"Did you and my dad end up in the Hospital Wing as well?"

Sirius flipped the knife in his hand and caught it by the blade.

"No."

Harry turned to him, emerald eyes seeming to glow in the soft candlelight filling the gym.

"No?"

Sirius shrugged.

"Well for one thing we had Lily with us who was a marvel at healing charms even in second year. Another thing I don't think the spell was as powerful as the one on you and Draco. James and I just had to be given a chance to properly talk to each other while you and Draco actually had to be forced. Plus we were younger, younger children make friends more easily."

Harry crossed his arms and stared down at the wooden floor.

Sirius threw the knife. It flew across the room in a spinning blur to land directly over the heart. The older man then turned and patted Harry warmly on the shoulder.

"I know it's hard, Harry, but you should listen to Hermione. There's nothing you can do about it at the moment, you'll have to wait until tomorrow. Get some rest."

Sirius left his Godson, who he loved like a son, to his lonely thoughts.

Harry raised a hand and the candles around the room flickered out, leaving him in darkness, except for the silver moonlight flooding through the gothic windows on the left.

Silver was the colour of Draco's hair, the colour of Draco's eyes, the colour of the dragon on his back and the colour of the bond that connected them.

"Hold on, Draco." Harry whispered huskily into the night.

"I'm coming bro, I promise."

* * *

Draco drifted in peaceful darkness.

He was conscious enough to think, but thankfully not enough to feel the pain in his broken body.

How had it all started this time?

Oh yes, now he remembered.

Draco had been sitting quietly, eating his food at the huge dinner table in the magnificent dinning room.

He glanced around at the two huge tapestries hanging from the walls to his left and right, depicting the valiant deeds several Malfoys had done to uphold the family honour.

Weapons also hung form the cold stone walls: swords, rapiers, dirks, spears, lances, chackrams, clubs, even a couple of scythes.

Draco turned back to his food, paying no attention to the twelve human servants lining the walls who kept on staring at the blood on his neck in concern, nor to his mother who kept shooting him furtive, worried glances with her beautiful sky blue eyes.

Tonight there was roast pork with roast potatoes, cabbage and gravy for the main course. This was usually Draco's favourite but it turned to ashes in his mouth every time his father hungrily gazed at him.

The young Slytherin was just forcing the last forkful of meat into his unwanting mouth when a house elf scurried into the cavernous room and up to Lucius who was sitting at the head of the table, his cold grey eyes never leaving his pallid son.

The pitiful creature bowed very low cringing slightly.

"Yes?" Draco's father spoke in a very bored tone of voice.

"An urgent owl has arrived for my Lord."

"Very well." Lucius sighed, folded his napkin and stood.

Immediately the six female servants curtsied and the six males bowed as their master swept from the room.

Draco pushed his empty plate away and two servants stepped forward. One took his plate and dirty cutlery, the other replaced the cutlery with more - a spoon and a wickedly sharp knife.

They always had the same dessert on his first night back in the manor. Dragon's egg was what the delicacy was called and it was basically a huge lump of unmelted chocolate ice cream coated in a thick layer of milk chocolate.

Draco was just wondering if he could miss dessert if he said he was feeling unwell when his father coolly slid noiselessly back into the room.

His face was expressionless as he glided across expensive Persian rug on the floor and stopped beside Draco.

The young blond barely had time to turn around before his father backhanded him viciously across the face. The force of the blow knocked the younger Malfoy out of his seat and he landed hard on the unforgiving floor.

Narcissa bit back a scream as Lucius threw the chair his son had been sitting in aside and grabbed the teenage boy by his throat, pulling him up to his knees.

"So you've betrayed me. Betrayed my master. Betrayed the family honour!" The man hissed madly at the confused boy through clenched teeth.

"What?" Draco managed to gasp out through the strangle hold on his neck, but his father wasn't listening.

"Well I'll show you what betrayal gets you!"

He let go of Draco's throat and the younger man thankfully drank in the life-giving air. Then his father grabbed his left arm and slammed it, palm down, fingers spread, onto the dark table.

He picked up Draco's dessert knife.

The servants along the wall gaped silently in fright as their master raised the knife over his head. Narcissa had clapped her delicate hands over her mouth but still sobbed quietly into them, unable to tear her eyes away from the terrifying scene unfolding in front of her.

Draco stared silently up into his father's eyes and saw nothing but contempt, disgust and utter hatred. In that second Draco's heart and the tiny bit of love he had for his father was shattered almost beyond repair. It was a pain quite unlike anything he'd experienced before, as it was not a physical pain but a pain in his mind and soul.

As Lucius started to bring the knife down time slowed.

The knife sliced through the air, cutting it in two with gold sparks leaping from the blade. The clock on the mantelpiece over the fire said it was just coming up to ten o'clock. The second hand making the last unbearingly long journey to come to rest on the twelve.

"No father! Please!"

The knife struck.

Draco screamed.

He stared with huge bewildered eyes at the knife buried point down through the centre of his slender hand.

Blood, dark and rich, began to pool out across the mahogany table.

Lucius laughed coldly, sending shivers down the spines of all in the room.

"So you thought you could befriend Potter and that I wouldn't find out?"

He reached forward, grasped the knife and pulled it free of Draco's hand.

Draco swore creatively so Lucius backhanded him across the face again, knocking his son back down to the floor where he lay, clutching his arm, trying to stop the bleeding.

"What the hell are you talking about?" The silver-haired boy managed to gasp out; sweat beading his pale forehead from pain.

Lucius sneered then kicked him hard in the ribs.

As his son doubled up, fighting to breath the older Malfoy strode across the room and selected a fine club from the wall. It had a black leather-bound handle for grip and the club itself was made from the heart of a beach tree. It was shaped like a baseball bat and could have been except for the iron coating the tip of the wood, giving it a hardness to smash a dent in a stone wall.

"Don't try to humour me boy. We both know I'm much smarter than that."

He walked back over to the teenager kneeling on the floor and placed the tip of the club under his perfect chin, forcing the boy's head up.

Lucius pulled a letter from his pocket and, keeping the club still under Draco's chin so the silver-eyed boy was forced to look at the hateful man who had given him life, began to read;

"My Lord Lucius Malfoy.

I have some bad tidings to bear to you concerning your son.

A few weeks ago Draco and one Mr Potter were involved in a

duel, during which a spell was 'forced' from both of their lips.

Unfortunately I was not present at the time so I cannot tell you

what the spell was (and the rest of the Slytherins who saw what

happened do not have a large enough I.Q to remember the

words of the spell to tell me).

During the day before this Potter was involved in an 'accident'

and was hurt - sadly not too seriously.

Imagine my surprise when none other than Draco volunteered

to walk him up to the hospital wing and stayed there with him

most of the rest of the evening.

But even worse; today on the journey back to platform 9 3/4,

barely ten minutes in, Draco jumped up and tore out of the

compartment saying something about getting someone's heart

going. We all assumed he meant he was going to meet a girl as

your son is very handsome. But later when I went to purchase

some nourishment I was shocked to hear your son laughing

and joking in a compartment with our Lord's number one

enemy, the muggle-loving pureblood and the mudblood. They

were even calling each other by their first names!

So I can think of no other excuse other than it has something to

do with that spell.

But it doesn't matter which way you look at it, it unfortunately

leads to only one conclusion.

Draco, your only son had betrayed you and us.

I regret to have to give you this news but know you know sir

something can be done about it.

Yours demurely,

Pansy Parkinson"

The room was filled with a ringing silence as Lucius lowered the letter while Draco stared at nothing in disbelief.

'Since when had Pansy become open-minded enough to notice something like this,' he wondered. 'Normally she couldn't see past her own face in the mirror...'

Lucius, meanwhile, had crumpled the letter in his fist and let it drop to the cold stone floor.

"So," the older man said quite cheerfully, that made it even more terrifying for Draco as he knew from experience that more pain was involved when his father sounded happy.

"Would you care to explain before I beat you within an inch of your life?"

There came a small sob from Narcissa but Draco couldn't look at her and Lucius didn't bother himself, keeping all his attention focused on his shrewd son.

The young Slytherin ran over all the things he could say back to his father, but they were all lies. To say it was just the spell was no longer true as a real friendship had risen from the silver bond that connected him to Harry.

As Draco's thoughts turned to Harry he wondered what the fiery Gryffindor would do in this situation. Probably spit in Lucius' face then blow him away with some wandless magic, but Draco's wandless magic wasn't strong enough to do something of that magnitude yet and his father knew it, so he decided to do the next best thing and be strong for Harry. The pain of his broken heart was still racking his body so what was a little more pain? He would go down fighting just as Harry would do.

Draco lifted his head proudly, a cold arrogance coming to his silver eyes. He looked a Malfoy through and through, even though he was kneeling in his own blood.

"Fuck you," he hissed and spat in his fathers face.

Lucius stood there completely frozen.

Since when had his son become so strong? He was acting like a Gryffindor - no, Potter, whenever the other boy was in a life-threatening situation.

The older Malfoy calmly withdrew the club, drew a silk hanky from the pocket of his dark robes, wiped his face and then smashed the club into Draco's left arm, which broke with a satisfying crack.

The little colour in the silver-eyed boys face drained from it so he looked almost dead.

Before Draco even had a chance to scream Lucius brought the club swinging viciously around into his slim body again, this time over his collarbone, which broke with a snap that sounded like a whip crack through the silent room.

Again and again his father raised the club and brought it crashing down with terrifying force on his ribs, sides, stomach, legs, arms, back until his whole body became a seething mass of needle sharp, burning pain which indicated exactly which bones were broken; his arms, his left wrist, several fingers, his collar bone, most of his ribs, his hip, his legs, his kneecap, his ankle and his foot.

Some bones had pierced the skin and blood pooled around his slumped body.

Not once did he cry out.

Draco lay on the floor trying to breathe and failing. Shattered bones in several places had punctured his lungs, but at least the pain was going away now.

His whole body was filling with a thick golden fog, which muffled the pain and made his broken limbs feel weightless. Far away he could hear muffled sobs that he guessed were from the servants and a desperate screaming;

"Stop it! Stop it! You're killing him! You're killing my baby!"

Well, he never thought his mother had had it in her.

He was floating peacefully now. The pain had completely gone in a world of golden mist.

Something was telling him that he had to go now, to where he could not say but he had to go.

For some reason there was another part of himself drifting just out of his reach. Frowning slightly he lent forward to take himself back into himself, but that part of him dodged away laughing.

Not yet, Draco, it seemed to say, not yet, but soon. I promise.

Then the thing spread its wings and flew off into the swirling mist.

He tried to call out, to bring it back but his voice refused to work.

Snarling silently he jumped up to go after it but a tug made him spin around.

There was a darkness, huge and black bearing down on him, and through the darkness was a silver thread connected to his heart.

Whatever the darkness was, it was powerful and very angry.

The golden fog was evaporating around him but the silver threat kept him firmly in place, tethered to the approaching darkness so he couldn't turn tail and run like he wanted to.

Then it was all around him and it wasn't black. It was a beautiful deep, rich blue, soft and warm yet fearsome and strong. It was angry, but not, Draco realised, at him. It was angry at whatever had given him pain.

Memories came rushing back sharp and cold that the golden mist had taken away without his realising. Draco remembered his father shattering bone after bone in his slim body.

The blond silently sobbed in fear and the remembrance of the pain.

Somehow the soft bluenoses around him gently cradled him and seemed to be saying, 'It's okay, hush, you're safe now.'

Just as Draco was willing to go back to the dark world of unconsciousness and leave the golden world of near-death far behind, the blanket of blue pulled back for a second and Draco was looking into a wizard gym.

The first thing he noticed was a human shaped target on the far wall with a throwing knife in its heart and, which brought a smile to his face, directly in its groin.

There was a person standing in the centre of the room bathed in moonlight with their head bowed, looking like a beautiful statue made out of silver light of the moon and black shadows. Whoever they were, they were too blurry for Draco to recognise.

Suddenly, a whisper flickered around the stone room and into Draco's warm, safe blue world. It sounded like the rustling of a thousand angels wings.

"Hold on Draco. I'm coming bro, I promise."

It was as if someone had lit a candle in a dark room. The figure sprung into focus and it was Harry.

He was standing there in well-worn boots, black training trousers and a black vest. His hair was more messed than usual and fell into his glowing emerald eyes and his toned, golden brown body was coated in a thin layer of sweat. His head was bowed in weariness but his eyes burned with a strength that could never be taken away.

The bluenoses closed back in on Draco and he started to slip down into unconsciousness. The silvery blond realised that the silver thread that had pulled him back had done it without realising it.

Harry had saved his life and he didn't even know it.

"Thank you Harry." Draco whispered, and somewhere his voice was heard by someone. And it wasn't Harry.