Inrevocabilis Cantanem

Chapter 4: Mayhem and the Potions Master

Hermione looked over irritably at Harry as he entered the common room from the boys' dormitory. The common room was empty save Hermione and Ginny, as the rest of the Gryffindors had gone on to bed. Harry had snuck quickly past the two of them in his invisibility cloak, removing it on the stairs to his dormitory, and then heading to his room. He quickly stashed his cloak, ignoring Dean's and Seamus's inquiries as to where he had been, grabbed his Transfiguration book so that he could study with Hermione, and dashed back down the stairs. The entire time, his lips were on fire and he had to concentrate with all of his might to keep from beaming brightly. Draco, Harry found, was a very skilled kisser. He couldn't stop his mind from playing and replaying the scene again and again in his mind.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked, trying to temper the anger in her voice.

"I was upstairs," Harry lied.

"Right. That's why you weren't upstairs. That's why your cloak wasn't where it usually is. That's why you just snuck past here minutes ago to put it away. All of that because you were upstairs already."

Ginny looked sympathetically at Harry before announcing, "And that's my cue. I'll see you two lovebirds in the morning."

"Goodnight, Ginny," Harry sighed, watching her as she walked up the stairs. He wanted to look anywhere but at Hermione. With nothing else to look at and with her eyes piercing the back of his skull, Harry turned to face his girlfriend.

"Don't think," she began as he sat next to her and moved to take her hand, "that you're going to sweet talk your way out of this one, Harry."

She crossed her arms over her chest. Harry smiled, replaying the truth or dare game in his head.

"You've got great breasts, Hermione," he smiled.

Her eyes narrowed. As she mounted to unleash her fury onto her boyfriend, voices sounded at the entrance to the common room, causing both she and Harry to turn their heads.

"It's just not right, Neville, is all I'm saying. My parents -" Ron stopped.

He and Neville stared guardedly at Harry and Hermione. What Harry wanted more than anything at that particular moment was to be as Draco was: a Legilimen. He found himself suddenly, instinctively, and shockingly needing protection, and blocked his mind from Neville and Ron's intense gazes.

"What are you two up to?" Ron derided. "Is Hermione getting ready to polish your knob in the common room again, Harry?"

Neville snorted and Hermione dropped her head, a look of mixed fury and embarrassment on her face.

Harry's face darkened.

"This is getting very old very quickly, Ron."

"I agree," Ron said, advancing on Harry. "So, shall we finish it, then?"

Harry smirked, "I thought we already handled that in the hallway."

Hermione squeezed Harry's thigh. She looked at him, mouthing, "Stop it, Harry."

"Oh, yes," Ron smiled. "That nasty little incident. I wish I were Malfoy's and Dumbledore's little plaything. I'd never be in trouble, either."

"If you want trouble, Ron," Harry began dangerously, getting up from his chair, "you've definitely come to the right place. Or do I have to be a sixteen-year-old girl to get you to fight?"

Ron scowled, his fists balled at his sides.

Neville walked forward, taking hold of Ron's robes, saying, "Can we just go up now, please? Let it be, Ron."

Hermione glanced in Neville's direction, casting a small, thankful smile his way.

Neville regarded her for a moment unsmiling before glancing away.

"It's not worth it," he said.

Ron turned, walking with Neville toward the boys dormitory.

"Don't sleep, Potter," he said over his shoulder.

"Don't threaten me, Weasley," Harry spat back returning to his chair.

Hermione looked at her boyfriend, vehemence dancing in her eyes.

"Oh, what?" Harry groaned.

"Why must you provoke him? You sound like Malfoy."

"You know what, Hermione? Don't ever ask me to stick up for you, okay? I'm sorry. I can't do anything right by you."

Harry picked up his Transfiguration book and violently turned the pages.

"Can I use that? Thanks," he asked, taking one of her quills. He unrolled his parchment, stabbed the quill in the ink, and began scribbling messily on the parchment.

He was feeling guilty: guilty for not having met Hermione earlier; guilty for not having worked on his assignment; guilty for egging Ron on; guilty for having stayed out most of the night with Draco; guilty for having kissed Draco; and especially guilty that the kiss was the most prominent thought in his mind.

"Harry," Hermione began softly, though irritably.

Harry stopped writing, looking forward into space.

"You've got to see, all right?" she said. "You've got to at least understand what the problem is. We haven't gotten through the first full day and already you've had to see Dumbledore. It was like this near the close of last term. You and Draco constantly into something. Constantly being reprimanded for something. Your studies suffering."

Harry laughed sardonically. "My studies were fine, Hermione. We can't all of us be as brilliant as you."

She flinched. "Don't get on the defensive. Harry, I just want you to understand. I don't want to lose you to this...this boy who makes his own rules and recruits other to follow. You've been swept up in the charm that is Draco Malfoy and let down all of your barricades."

"Don't start this, Hermione. And you aren't going to lose me to anything."

She sighed. "Listen, I looked into the Amulet. He's right. Everything he said about it is right. It's a dangerous item, Harry. It turns the wearer into an almost super being, according to what I've read. And you don't seem at all bothered. It doesn't bother you that the Amulet was in Ron's possession. It doesn't at all bother you that it was once Draco's. It doesn't at all bother you that he's a Legilimen - and heavens knows what else. Do you really think you can trust him?"

"Dumbledore trusts him. Dumbledore trusts Snape. If Snape can change - "

"Why can't Draco?" Hermione finished. "I know, Harry. I just find it worrisome that you overlook all of these things; things that you should instinctively be wary of."

Harry tossed the quill to the table and threw himself back against the chair.

"Calm down, love," Hermione pleaded. "Please."

Harry chewed his lip. He thought about kissing Draco. He growled, trying to block the memory. It was just a game. It hadn't meant anything. Lavender had kissed all of the girls in the room while playing, and she was dating Ernie Macmillan. Then why, had it not meant anything, did it feel so bad and so good at once? How had he gone from feeling so very high to hating everything?

"I am bothered," Harry finally spoke. "Okay? I am bothered by it all, Hermione. But what the fuck am I supposed to do? You and Draco have been the brightest sparks in my entire life. You two allow me to live. To finally live and have fun and be reckless. The fate of the wizarding world doesn't come into play with the two of you. I can just be Harry. Just plain old Harry."

"But you're not," Hermione smiled cajolingly. "Darling, you're not plain old Harry to anyone. Especially not me."

Harry looked to Hermione, smiling softly. He wondered if he could ever kiss her again without comparing her to Draco.

"We should work. We should talk about the Amulet and Ron and Draco and Ginny, but not now. Now we should work."

Hermione nodded her acquiescence. "But I still want to know where you'd been."

********************

Draco walked back to the Slytherin Dungeons. His lips, too, were burning. He, too, was playing and replaying the scene in his mind. Though he had taken the lead in the seduction, Harry had quickly countered and taken control of the kiss. Draco's hand subconsciously traced the path Harry's had taken earlier: up the back of Draco's neck, tangling itself in his sleek blond hair.

His hand was still there as he said the password and stepped into the hallway, bumping into Severus Snape.

"Oh, hello, Professor. Pardon me," Draco said.

Snape gazed at Draco with his cool black eyes.

"Why are you just getting in, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked.

"I have to pull a double shift for the next two weeks, sir. Dumbledore assigned it me."

Snape nodded almost imperiously before saying, "Oh, yes. That. Well, I was looking for you. Follow me to my office." He turned with flourish, his black robes fanning about around him as he strode forward.

What Draco wanted to do was to lie in bed and think about Harry. Sighing, he tucked his hands into his pockets and did as Snape requested.

Draco sat as soon as he entered Snape's office, as familiar with and comfortable in this one as he was with Dumbledore's. Snape sat across from Malfoy at his desk, shuffling papers.

"Sir?" Draco inquired.

"This won't take long," Snape said, standing and handing a rolled piece of parchment to Draco. With his back to Draco he began, "Your mother has contacted you."

"My mother, sir?" Draco said quizzically.

"Yes. She sent you that," he said in reference to the letter, "and this."

Snape turned, holding a small parcel in his hands. Snape gave his best attempt at a smile while handing the parcel to Draco and asking, "Is everything well?"

"With her? I don't know, sir."

"With you, Draco. Is everything well with you?"

Draco thought of Harry and smiled softly. "Fine, sir."

Snape looked into Draco's eyes and smirked. "I see. Well, I do expect you to remember that you are a Slytherin. You are Head Boy, and I demand that you act as such. I expect you to uphold some house honor. Everyone else has bloody well forgotten what that means. If I hear of another incident like the one which occurred today, Mr. Malfoy, the punishment will be severe."

Snape's eyes were dangerous, and Draco nodded saying, "Yes, sir. I understand."

Snape nodded. "I shall see you in class tomorrow. You may go."

********************

My dearest Draco,

I am sorry that I have broken communication with you. To think that I have not spoken with my only child this long year begets me more heartache and sorrow than I can begin to explain. With hope, my broken heart will bring you some consolation.

I've had this letter sent to you through Nymphadora. As soon as I'm sure that I am safe and not being watched, I will correspond directly to you. For now, she will take whatever it is I have for you and send it to Severus, who will see that it is delivered to you.

I must be careful, Draco, as must you. Once ruing the loss of his son "to the dark side" as he called it, your father now claims to have lost his only heir in the war. I was at once dismayed, thinking that you had truly perished. I was to discover that you had not, but I was under strict instructions to never speak to or of you again. I was told that if I were to speak with you, the punishment would be the loss of my life. Our son had died. With your death would be born a new Malfoy heir: Pure-Blood and with much more strength than Voldemort.

As I gathered things to send you, I looked for the Amulet of Serpensempra that your father had given you just after your fifteenth birthday. Draco, the Amulet is nowhere to be found. I am fearful that your father may have some dark intention. He returned to me after the war and told me that you tried to kill him for protecting his master. That you would rather see live Harry Potter than your own father.

I would like for you to respond to me, Draco, as I miss you terribly. Severus has agreed to deliver your messages to Nymphadora to give to me. I hope that you will respond. I have heard, through Severus and Nymphadora, that you were made Head Boy and that you are doing increasingly well in your studies. I have also heard that you plan on becoming an Auror. I am very pleased with you, Draco. I have always known that you would be something great. Please, my dearest son, respond.

Ever loving,

Your mother

P.S. I went to visit your Aunt Joliet. I placed flowers on her grave and asked her to give both you and I guidance and peace. I think, my love, it would not be a bad idea if you could find some free time and pay your respects as well. As you have broken ties with your father, I think you have nothing to fear in visiting his sister. She loved you so much, Draco. I await your response.

Draco read the letter twice, his eyes filling with tears. He put the parchment to his nose, inhaling sharply. He could smell his mother and his breath caught in his throat. He had wanted to pull her away with him. Had wanted her to come with him during that summer before his sixth year when his father had been released from Azkaban and could speak only of the demise of Harry Potter and anyone who stood in the way of his getting to Harry. Lucius had become increasingly more violent with and demanding of his son, making him study into the wee hours of the morning, only to rest for a few hours before starting again. They had dueled, and Lucius won. The result of said duel was two broken ribs for Draco. Lucius would not allow Draco to heal the breaks, stressing that the pain would make Draco stronger.

It was during that summer, four weeks before Draco was to start his sixth year, that Voldemort had visited Malfoy Manor and had looked into Draco's eyes. Whatever it was he saw there, he didn't like. His red eyes had flashed with a fury more dangerous than Draco had ever seen. He had hissed the word, "Potter," and squeezed Draco's hand until Draco thought he would pass out from the pain. His knees had buckled and he had fallen to them, his hand trapped in Voldemort's death grip. Draco had looked to his father for help, but Lucius had simply stood there, restraining Narcissa from aiding her only child.

Voldemort, still holding Draco's hand, had turned to Lucius and said, "I believe, Lucius, that what you most fear is true. Your son is a blood traitor."

Draco had protested, his eyes pleading, and sought support from his father.

"Then kill him," Lucius had said nonchalantly.

Narcissa had wailed, fighting against her husband's hold, trying to reach her son as Voldemort, laughing menacingly, had removed his wand and waved it before Draco's teary eyes.

Voldemort had looked at Lucius, smiling. "Let us see, Lucius. Let us not be so rash," he had said, tapping Draco on the forehead with his wand. "Bring me Potter, boy," he had hissed at Draco, squeezing Draco's fingers so tightly that the bones in his index and pinky fingers had snapped. Draco had collapsed from the pain.

He had awoken quite some time later to his mother rapidly tapping his cheek, tears dropping from her chin onto his face. He had opened his eyes, looking around quickly for the Dark Lord and his father.

Narcissa helped her son to his feet, glancing around apprehensively.

"Quickly," she had whispered. She was pushing a traveling cloak, his wand, and his broom into his hands. "Hurry, Draco," she had whined, "before they return."

Draco had quickly wrapped the cloak about him and had stuffed his wand into his pocket. He had ignored the pain in his hand and looked confusedly at his mother.

"What -" he had begun.

"There's no time. I've sent word to my niece, Nymphadora Tonks. She's here," Narcissa said, handing Draco a small piece of parchment as she walked him to the door, "and will explain as much as she knows. You must leave everything, Draco. You must just go. Nymphadora will help you. She's with people who will help you. She will empty your vault at Gringotts. Everyone, Draco, who we taught you to hate will help you. You must trust them, Draco. Trust me, too. Gods help me. I was so wrong." Narcissa had stroked her son's face, her eyes running. "I must make it better. You deserve life, Draco. Go. Now!" she had nearly screamed as Draco had stammered. She had hugged him quickly, then ran back into the Manor.

Draco had mounted his broom and looked down at the parchment in his hand. On it were directions to a Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. His cousin, one he had never met, would be waiting for him. He would find out, as he arrived, so would be Mad-Eye Moody, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Professor Snape, and, much to Draco's vexation, Albus Dumbledore.

Now sitting here on his bed in his private room, he openly wept. He wanted to go to Harry. He wanted Harry to hold him and share in his joy at finally hearing from his mother and his misery in missing her so terribly. Harry would understand. They were both orphans in a sense, the loss of their parents lying heavily on one man's shoulders. But he knew that he couldn't go to Harry. Harry was with Hermione. Harry was in love with Hermione. They planned to marry. Harry had lost his best friend to be with her, Draco thought, so why would he leave her for him? But there was that kiss.

Draco wrung his hands together. He furrowed his brow. They had been playing a game. Harry had probably only kissed him because he was afraid that Draco would make him do something ridiculous if he had refused. Surely, Draco thought, he couldn't play games with Harry in order to get Harry to kiss him or hold him or...

A soft knock on Draco's door interrupted his thoughts. He quickly placed the letter from his mother in a drawer and hid the still unopened parcel under his bed. Checking his appearance in the mirror quickly, Draco opened the door with a small smirk.

"Draco," Millicent breathed.

"Fuck," Draco thought. He said, "Ah, Miss Bulstrode. Is everything all right?"

She smiled, ducked underneath his arm, and stood in his room.

Draco cursed his luck and closed the door. He turned to face her, smiling softly, and leaned against the closed door.

"And to what do I owe this late-night visit?" he asked.

"Do you know what I have under my robes, Mr. Malfoy?" Millicent asked breathily.

"No idea."

She dropped her robes and smiled seductively.

"Nothing," she purred.

Draco regarded the naked girl in front of him. He tried his hardest not to sigh. He really wasn't in the mood for this.

"Well?" she smiled.

Draco pushed himself off of the wall and walked toward her. Her brushed her nipple gently with his forefinger. She gave an exaggerated shudder and a small gasp of pleasure.

Millicent moved to kiss Draco, but he stopped her.

"No," he said silkily. "Knees on the bed, darling. Bend over."

********************

Neither Draco nor Harry mentioned the kiss. In their minds, they both chalked it up to a silly game that the two of them had been playing and nothing more.

Draco responded to Narcissa's letter four days after having received hers. He wanted to be characteristically nonchalant and carefree, but found that he couldn't hide the sentimentality that hearing from his mother evoked. He slept with the silk shawl that belonged to his mother. She had sent it, along with some of his prized possessions, a photo, a Draught of Peace and a Dreamless Sleep Draught that she had mixed herself, and a newspaper clipping about a promotion his father had received. He was tempted to throw the clipping away, confused and frustrated by her sending it, but decided to hang on to it. He placed the article, his father leering cockily from its pages, into his drawer.

Draco didn't request Harry's presence on his rounds anymore, as he knew that Harry had gotten into an argument with Hermione over it. He finished the punishment himself, using the time alone to think about Harry and kick himself for not pursuing more.

But maybe there was hope for him and Harry. Harry had been turned on by Draco before the kiss. Just maybe, Draco thought, he could explain to Harry how he was feeling and maybe Harry would be feeling those same things.

He was tempted to say something about the kiss during their first lessons together. Harry told Draco about the Room of Requirement. Each Thursday night, they agreed, at ten they would meet in the room and practice building their skills. Draco had tried Legilimency on Harry, wanting desperately to look into Harry's eyes and extract whatever he might be feeling about Draco. But Harry, from years of mistrust and loss, was well guarded, and no matter how hard Draco tired, he couldn't break through.

He decided to let Harry, once Harry was good enough, see what was going on in his memories. How the kiss played again and again in his mind. How he dreamed about holding Harry and making love with him. How he was confused about exactly what he felt for the beautiful green-eyed boy. He hoped that Harry would see how he was feeling and return those feelings.

That hope, however, vanished on the night of September 19^th, the night after his and Harry's first meeting. It was Hermione's birthday. Harry had given her a ring, asking for her hand in marriage. That night Draco called Blaise into his room and had sex with him. He used Blaise as a release for his anger and frustration, the outcome being Draco's nearly throwing out his back.

Draco sat on the edge of his bed rereading the letter his mother had sent two days before Harry and Hermione's engagement. In it she had expressed her pleasure in his replying to her letter. She also expressed concern that his father was up to something. What, she had written, she wasn't sure.

Draco sat rubbing his sore back. He held the letter in his hands, staring at his clock. It was early: predawn. He sometimes hated the Slytherin Dungeons as he couldn't look out of a window to watch the sun rise on mornings like these when he couldn't sleep. He glanced over at Blaise, still curled up on Draco's bed, and shook his head.

"What the fuck am I doing?" he muttered to himself.

He looked back down at the letter in his hands before standing and placing it on his desk. He sat at the desk, unrolling a sheet of parchment and picking up a quill. He used invisible ink to pen the letter to his mother, as she had written in her last letter, deciding to enchant the parchment and ink to reveal a recipe if anyone tried to discover what had been written.

Dear Mother,

I've received your letter. In your first, you told me of my missing Amulet. I've learned from Ginny Weasley that it was in her brother Ron's possession. He claimed that it wasn't his and that it belonged to a friend of his. It is true that all of the Amulets - excluding my own - have been destroyed? If so, that would mean one of two things: Either Ron or his "friend" stole the Amulet from Malfoy Manor, which is highly doubtful, or Father Lucius has given it to Ron or his "friend." Do you think that whatever he may be planning has something to do with the Amulet? Will the Amulet still carry any power with Voldemort's death? I need to know these things. I think you can find them out for me, but do be careful. Please tell me anything you may know. There are people here wise enough to know that there are still those who believe in a Pure Blood wizarding world, and that Voldemort's death doesn't mean the end of evil or bigotry. I can contact these people and see to it that whatever it is Lucius is planning is put to a dead halt. Contact me as soon as possible, Mother. Please be careful.

Draco looked at the parchment for a moment, wondering whether to go on. Sighing and knowing that he needed someone to talk to, he continued writing.

In other news, Harry has asked Hermione to marry him and she's agreed. I always knew that they would marry, as did everyone else, I'm sure. I would be lying, however, if I said that this news doesn't make me particularly happy. I'm not sure what this is, but I'm beginning to think that I am falling in love with Harry...or something. He consumes me. I can think of nothing much more than him. I'm angry with myself for this.

My studies are fine and we start Quidditch practice next week. Harry and I, as team captains, are going to arrange for a few practice matches: Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. I'm sure you know who will be victorious not only in practice, but also during the season. Harry would be calling me a cocky git right now.

As it is Saturday, I think I will go back to bed and sleep a bit before I start my day. I do love you, Mother. Please let me know what, if anything, you know about the Amulet and your husband's plans.

Draco

Draco reread the letter and then turned the ink invisible before folding the parchment and sealing it.

He then walked back over to the bed and nudged Blaise.

"Up and out," he smiled to the groggy boy. "I need sleep."

********************

October the 1^st, 1997

You're in love! How wonderful for you darling. Does he know how you feel? If not, you should tell him. That is my motherly advice. But as you told me in your last letter: do be careful. There aren't many people who will accept your love; moreover, if your father knew you were in love with his sworn enemy...I shudder to think, Draco.

I must be brief, as your father is ever watchful and increasingly suspicious these days. I know nothing of the Amulet, and when I asked him about it, he only became agitated and demanded that I stop asking questions. I have told Nymphadora what I know and she has spoken with Dumbledore. Be mindful, Draco, as I don't know anymore of what your father is capable and to what lengths he may go.

I will continue to keep you posted.

With love,

Your Mother

October the 3^rd, 1997

I cannot tell him. He is too happy and so is she. I could be mistaken about my feelings anyhow. He and I have been practicing Legilimency, Occlumency, and other things. He's an amazingly powerful wizard. I am in awe.

Meet me somewhere soon. I want to speak with you in person. Have Nymphadora arrange it.

Love,

Draco

P.S. I take back what I said about our being victorious. I am a cocky git. Gryffindor are good.

October the 27^th, 1997

I am sorry it took me so long to respond. Your father found your last letter and questioned why I would need to protect a recipe. He took it from me and it is my belief that he is trying his hardest to reverse your spell. I have news for you, but I do not want to reveal it in this letter. Meet me on the first of next month in pretty fields. I will explain then.

********************

Draco and Harry sat near the end of the table. Neither one had touched their breakfasts and had their heads close together, deeply engaged in a conversation, when Hermione and Ginny sat beside them.

"Good morning," Hermione beamed, squeezing Harry's leg. "Why so serious?"

Harry looked at Draco, waiting for his permission to explain. Draco looked at Hermione skeptically.

"Umm," Harry began.

Draco sighed. He began softly, "My mother's been contacting me."

"That's wonderful, right?" Ginny asked, forking eggs onto her plate.

"In a way, yes," Draco agreed. "But my father - Lucius - he's up to something. It concerns the Amulet, I think. It may...it may concern Ron as well."

Ginny looked up worriedly from her breakfast. She hadn't spoken to Ron since the night he pulled her off of his bed. He had become increasingly volatile, taking out his anger on younger years and allowing his studies to decline. She hadn't spoken with her parents about the incident.

"Ginny," Harry said, "as soon as we learn more, you've got to speak with your parents."

Ginny shook her head.

"No, Harry. If Ron said it isn't his, then it isn't his. It wasn't even in his room anymore, remember?"

"I know, Ginny. I don't want to think the worst of Ron either, but this isn't a small thing. He's different. He's...he's hiding something," Harry said.

"Draco," Hermione began, "why don't you just use your Legilimency?"

"I don't want to get that close to Weasley. Aside, if he's working with Lucius then there's no way I'm going to find out anything. He'll be protected the likes I've never dealt with."

"You've got to, Ginny," Harry pleaded.

Ginny exhaled heavily, tears gathering in her eyes.

"What if they hate him?" she whimpered. "What if he turns into another power-hungry Percy and they stop communicating with him?"

Draco reached over Harry's and Hermione's arms, his fingers brushing against Harry's arm briefly, and held Ginny's hand.

"What if they can help him?" he asked quietly. "I admit, Ginny, that I don't like your brother. I never have. But I don't want anyone under my father's influence. I've been there. I broke away and I realize how hurtful he is. How controlling. You love Weas -Ron. Help him."

Tears were streaming down Ginny's cheeks. She finally nodded in agreement.

Draco smiled softly.

"That's a girl. I'll let you know when."

********************

"You're getting good at this, Potter," Draco smiled.

Harry laughed. "See, Malfoy, all you do think about is sex."

"Guilty," Draco laughed along.

Then had been in the Room of Requirement for about fifteen minutes. The room, to accommodate them, was lit with a few small candles, a fireplace, and a cushy loveseat. There was nothing more, Harry had noted the first time he had entered and thrown his invisibility cloak on the sofa.

Draco had purposely reflected on shagging Blaise as Harry looked into his thoughts. He allowed himself to start thinking of Harry and kissing him, but blocked Harry before Harry could see.

"Do you want to try again?" Draco asked, looking at Harry.

"Okay, but stop blocking me."

"Hey," Draco protested innocently. "That's what I'm supposed to be doing."

"It's not about you right now, Draco."

"It's always about me," Draco smirked.

"Cocky git. Ready?"

Draco nodded. He steadied his crystal gray eyes into Harry's emerald-like green ones. He opened his mind. He and Harry were kissing. He was stroking Harry's body through the invisibility cloak. He was rubbing himself against Harry.

Harry blinked, his face flushed. He tried to swallow, but his tongue felt dry, thick, and heavy in his mouth.

"Do you..." Harry began, "do you still think about that then?"

Draco smiled softly, his eyes hooding slightly, his teeth capturing his bottom lip.

"Don't you?" Draco asked in what he hoped to be a nonchalant manner.

Harry simply nodded, his eyes locked into Draco's.

"See?" Harry said throatily.

Draco stared deep into Harry's eyes. There he was. He was seeing himself as Harry saw him: kissing Harry, stroking Harry, rubbing against Harry.

"Yes," Draco nearly hissed when Harry broke eye contact.

Draco was aware of his own arousal and shifted on the sofa. Harry, too, was shifting, and clearing his throat.

"Erm," Harry began.

"You need to..." Draco cleared his throat. "You need to work on the wandless magic a bit, I think."

Harry nodded.

"Stand up," Draco said.

"You've got to be kidding," Harry thought to himself. He was aware of what must be a considerable bulge in the front of his trousers. "Erm..."

"And," Draco stood, smiling and turning his back slightly toward Harry, "take hold of your wand."

Harry chuckled nervously, standing slowly and holding his wand. Draco immediately walked behind him, pressing himself to Harry's backside and holding Harry's right hand in his. He raised Harry's arm, in so doing raised Harry's wand, and pointed it toward the sofa.

"Change the color," Draco whispered into Harry's ear. "I like silver, myself."

Harry, concentrating harder than he had in years, muttered the incantation and watched as the sofa turned silver.

"Mmm, nice," Draco hummed in Harry's ear. "Did you feel that?" His arousal was pressing into Harry's rear. Harry could feel Draco's erection pulsing against him.

"Feel what?" Harry stammered.

"Feel where the magic came from."

"From the wand," Harry said. He wanted to recline his head against Draco's shoulder. He wanted Draco to let go of his hand and reach around to take Harry in his palm. He was nearly in pain, seeking a release.

"Not from the wand, Harry. Do it again. Concentrate and tell me where the magic's coming from."

"What color?" Harry asked somewhat breathlessly. He pressed himself against Draco's erection.

"Whatever color you will," Draco moaned, digging himself deeper against Harry's backside, his lips pressed against Harry's ear.

Harry said the incantation again, turning the sofa gold.

"It's from...it's from my...my stomach," Harry whimpered, "and then it goes through my hand to the...to the wand."

"Mmm hmm," Draco buzzed. "Now without the wand, Harry."

Harry dropped his wand to the floor but Draco did not release Harry's arm.

"How?" he asked Draco.

"Same way, love. Just without a wand. Focus on what you want. Think the incantation. Keep direction. Change the color."

Harry looked toward the sofa. The incantation ran through his mind, but the sofa did not change color.

"Think, Harry," Draco said. He had snaked his other hand up Harry's leg and was holding on to Harry's hip. Draco's hips gyrated slowly back and forth, making his erection bury itself in the cleft of Harry's arse.

"Gods, Draco," Harry gasped.

"Concentrate." Draco nipped Harry's ear.

Harry again focused on the sofa. Again the incantation ran through his mind. This time the sofa turned a deep red. Harry smiled, focused on the sofa again. Dark green. Again. Silver.

"I like it that way," Harry moaned, turning to offer his mouth to Draco.

Draco pulled Harry to him, slowly lowering his lips to Harry's.

"Wait," Harry said. He stepped back and dug in his pocket, his usually bright eyes a deep, seductive green. "Hermione," he muttered.

"Hermione?"

Harry held up a small garnet. It was vibrating between his fingers.

"That's Hermione," he said.

"You carry your girlfriend in your pocket?" Draco asked irritably.

"No," Harry explained. He moved to get his cloak. "She got an idea from this thing Muggles use called a 'pager.' When you need someone, you call them and their pager buzzes. So, she charmed this garnet to do the same."

Draco frowned. He was beginning to slightly warm up to Granger. It was too bad he was going to have to start hating her again.

"I've gotta go," Harry sighed. "I'll...I'll see you in class."

Draco nodded. He was still nodding after Harry had cloaked himself, closed the door, and left.

Draco walked over to the sofa and sat down, sliding his hands along the cool, silver fabric. He unbuttoned his pants and wrapped his fingers around himself.

"Let Harry sit in that next time we're here," he thought with a smirk.

********************

Halloween came to Hogwarts and with it, the first trip to Hogsmeade. As the trip fell on a Friday, classes were cancelled after lunch. For Harry and Draco, that meant that Double Potions would be shortened by an hour.

Though the novelty of Hogsmeade's trips had worn off by their seventh year, Harry always looked forward to the first trip. He loved drinking butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks with Draco, Hermione, Ginny, Dean, and Seamus, and the break would be particularly welcomed after class with Snape.

Draco walked into the Dungeons to find Harry and Hermione holding hands by the Potions classroom. Prior to that, he had been in a very good mood. He loved Halloween. He, like Harry, was looking forward to the first trip to Hogsmeade. Aside, his mother would be meeting him the next day. He was excited to see her. As for today, he wanted nothing more than to finish what he and Harry had started the night before, and was a bit frustrated to see Hermione holding Harry's hand.

Draco smiled at Harry, licking his lips and cocking his head. He ignored Ron, Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle's catcalls from across the corridor and held the door for Harry and Hermione.

Snape was standing at the front of the class, looking particularly displeased. He hated the giddiness that arose in his students around the holidays and trips away from the school.

"Mr. Malfoy," he began as Draco was preparing to sit next to Harry, "you will sit in the front with Miss Parkinson. You will be working with her today. Let Potter work with his girlfriend." Snape said the word "girlfriend" as if it were foreign and sticky on his tongue.

Draco shrugged, smiling over his shoulder at Harry, who sat in the back with Hermione, and walked to the front of the class.

"Today," Snape was saying, "we will continue work on the Girding Potion. Remember that this potion will increase stamina not only health-wise, but in other arenas as well."

Seamus burst out laughing.

"Mr. Finnigan," Snape sneered, "five points from Gryffindor. Please do clean up your filthy mind while you are in my class. Or was that sheer glee for finally giving you and Mr. Thomas a leg up in matters of that Weasley girl?"

Snape gave a twisted smile at his joke. Seamus merely scowled at Snape, then looked back at Ron who was simpering with Goyle.

"Gather your ingredients."

Harry stood and walked toward the Potions closet. Draco followed.

"How can you say he's all right?" Harry whispered to Draco. "The man's insufferable."

Draco smiled. As he reached for the dragonfly scales, he casually brushed the front of Harry's pants.

"Watch it, Malfoy," Harry said. Draco noted that he was smiling.

Draco turned, leaning back against the case that held the various ingredients, and said softly, "You were good last night. You're not as good as I am, mind you. Probably never will be."

"Is that a challenge, Draco?" Harry asked, collecting the last ingredient for the potion.

Draco shrugged, pinched Harry's cheek, and walked out of the closet.

Harry returned to Hermione, shaking his head softly back and forth and looking at Draco.

He knew that Draco could cast without holding out his hand the way Harry had last night. What was it Draco had said? Direction. So, Harry thought, logically if he were to be looking in Draco's direction, his spells would land where he wanted them to.

Harry convinced Hermione that her hand was much steadier than his own and allowed her to chop the ingredients as he handed them to her.

He looked across the classroom at Draco and thought, "Levio allegro."

Draco's hair stood on end and whipped wildly around. He looked up, then cast a dangerous glance over his shoulder at Harry.

Calmly, Draco smoothed his hand over his hair and reversed the spell.

Harry chuckled.

"Harry," Hermione was saying.

"Sorry, love, what?" he smiled sheepishly.

"The eggs," Hermione said, pointing to the doxy eggs.

"Oh. Right," Harry said reaching to hand Hermione the bowl in which he had placed the eggs. Just before his fingers connected with the bowl, Harry's chair flew from underneath him, causing him to hit the floor.

"Potter!" Snape roared.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said, standing quickly and retrieving his chair. "It got away from me."

Snape looked disgustedly at Harry, then back down at his notes.

"What on Earth?" Hermione asked.

But Harry was looking at Draco.

Draco began laughing uncontrollably, holding his sides. His pale, smooth face turned a bright red and tears poured down his cheeks.

Snape pushed his chair back, standing ominously at the front of the classroom.

"Do you find fairy wings that amusing, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape growled.

Draco tried to say, "No, sir," but couldn't contain himself and ended up shaking his head back and forth. He managed to look back at Harry, who had his head down and was giggling to himself, the whole time Hermione asking him what on Earth was going on.

Harry's legs began swaying. Before he knew it, he was on his feet, dancing frenziedly at the back of the Potions classroom.

"Harry!" Hermione said at the same time that Snape was bellowing, "Potter!"

The entire class stopped, watching Draco, laughing so hard that it seemed he would stop breathing, and Harry, dancing so outrageously that some feared his legs might go flying off.

Hermione's face had gone beet red, repulsion darkening her pretty features.

Snape stood in the middle of the class, looking from Harry to Draco.

Draco had stopped laughing and, instead, jumped onto the desk, knocking the potions ingredients onto the floor, and begun singing very loudly and tremendously off-key: "Whoooooooooooa, my love! My darling! I've hungered foooor your touch! A looooong lonely tiiiiime!", and making large, grandiose gestures with his hands.

Seconds later, Harry stopped dancing and turned to Snape.

"Severus," he purred, "oh my darling Severus. I love you. So. Much."

With the exception of Snape, who was beside himself with fury, and Hermione, who was thoroughly revolted, the entire class burst out laughing. Snape's lip curled in disgust, he began advancing on Harry.

"Mr. Potter. You are looking at serious time with me in detention," Snape spat.

"Yes!" Harry yelled, thinking to himself, "Goddamn you, Malfoy!" He continued speaking to Snape, reaching out and fingering the buttons on Snape's cape. "Yes, darling. You don't understand how much I love you. Just imagine you and I locked in your office for hours..."

Most of the class were in tears at this point. Draco was still singing.

"Are you still miiiiiiiiine?! I need your love! I neeeeed your love! Send your love toooo-ooo-ooooo meeeeeee!"

"Misters Malfoy and Potter, in all of my long years of - " Snape stopped, his eyes widening in horror. Snape quickly gathered his robes, holding them, bunched up, in front of him.

Harry had thought the spell - "Corpus spongiosum" - but he hadn't directed it. He was too busy telling Snape of his love for him to direct the spell. It hit everyone in the classroom, but only affected the male population; that population did not exclude Snape.

"Bloody brilliant," Draco would later laugh to Harry at every opportunity. "You managed to give not only every seventh year bloke in our houses, but also Snape one of the best hard-ons they've ever had."

********************

Snape was fully unappreciative and unamused by Draco and Harry's stunt in Potions class. So unappreciative and unamused that he made them collect doxy eggs while their friends went to Hogsmeade.

Fortunately for Harry and Draco, there weren't many eggs to collect. Unfortunately for Harry, however, Hermione was angrier with him than she'd ever been and demanded that he meet her after she returned from Hogsmeade "for a little chat." Harry also had to take an antidote, as one of the doxies had bitten him before he could stun it. Draco's cheerful mood aggravated Harry even more.

They collected the last doxy egg and carried the basket into the dungeons, Harry not speaking to Draco. Harry strode outside, intending to see Hagrid, Draco at his heels, humming softly and chuckling to himself.

"Oy," he called to Harry as they walked through the courtyard. "Hey, Potter, come on," he smiled when Harry wouldn't stop.

Harry stiffened his shoulders, stopped walking, and turned to face Draco. Draco's smiling countenance infuriated Harry, but Draco found it entertaining that Harry's face was reddening.

"What, Malfoy?"

"I want to show you something," Draco smiled.

"You've shown me quite enough, thank you. I'm going to see Hagrid."

"Aww, Potter. Don't be like that." Draco was still grinning. He turned to face the castle, his arms outstretched.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry said, but he didn't begin walking again. Draco had him curious he had to admit, and wanted to see what the blond was up to now.

As Harry watched, his and Draco's Firebolts zoomed from the castle and into Draco's hands. He turned, still smiling at Harry, and walked over to Harry, handing him his broom.

"What's this?" Harry asked.

"Um, I do believe it's your broom."

"What do you expect me to do with it?"

"Get on," Draco said, mounting his broom and hovering over the ground, "and follow me."

Harry looked unbelievingly at Draco.

"You're really something, you know that, Malfoy? Snape said we weren't to go to Hogsmeade."

"Who said we're going to Hogsmeade?" Draco smirked. "I didn't say we were going to Hogsmeade. I simply said follow me."

Draco tilted his broom and quickly ascended.

"Come on, Potter," he yelled down at Harry.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Harry muttered, mounting his broom and kicking off.

As they flew, Harry following Draco, Harry wondered if everything between them had to be a competition. Draco would suddenly dive down and Harry would follow suit, both of them rapidly rushing toward the ground. Then Draco would quickly pull out of the dive and turn laughing at Harry.

There was something about flying, particularly flying with Draco, that always made Harry giddy. He flew forward, catching up to Draco, and turned his broom so that he was upside down underneath Draco. Draco laughed heartily, his mercurial gray eyes dancing. He pointed ahead of him and Harry righted himself. They were coming up on a cemetery.

Draco rocketed toward the ground with Harry in hot pursuit. They landed by a bench of sorts. Actually, the bench was a large, stone slab set upon two smaller stones. It was placed by a headstone. Harry read the name on the headstone: Joliet Malfoy. The grave looked as if it had just been manicured and a bunch of narcissi were placed gently against the stone.

Draco placed his broom by the bench and stared down at the grave. He walked gingerly over, knelt, and removed one of the narcissi from the bunch. He held the flower in his hand, placing the petals against his nose. He held out his left hand and a bunch of dragon's-head appeared in his hand. He gently placed the flowers next to the narcissi and ran his fingers across the headstone.

"Hello, Aunt Jolie," he said softly. "This is Harry Potter," Draco turned to face Harry. He handed Harry the narcissi that he had taken from the bunch. His eyes were wet. "Harry, this is my Aunt Joliet. This is her pretty field."

Harry looked around him. He realized that Joliet's was the only grave in this area. She was situated on top of a hill. Beside her grave grew a large yew tree, the green of its foliage closely matching the green of Harry's eyes. Yellow and white narcissi and the red dragon's-head grew along the hill.

"Your father's sister?" Harry asked softly, gingerly putting the flower to his nose and sniffing it.

Draco nodded his head.

Harry walked over to Draco, taking his hand gently. "I didn't know your father had a sister," he said softly.

Draco nodded toward the bench and he and Harry walked over to it and sat.

"She died when I was six," Draco said softly. He turned so that he was facing Harry. Harry followed suit. He and Draco sat with their legs folded and their knees touching. Draco rubbed his thumb along Harry's hand. "I haven't visited her in a while. My mother is to meet me here tomorrow," he added, smiling softly.

Harry smiled at Draco. He squeezed Draco's hand tenderly and said, "You must miss them both."

Draco nodded. He said, "I do. But I wanted you to meet her. She meant - means - a lot to me."

Harry nodded softly, noting how still and quiet it was on this hill. It felt as if he and Draco were the only two beings left on Earth. He felt Draco looking at him and Harry turned to meet Draco's gaze. Draco was smiling softly at Harry.

"What?" Harry smiled back.

"Nothing," Draco said, dropping his head slightly. "So, are you dressing up for the Masque tonight?"

Harry considered. "I hadn't really thought about it. I don't know what I'd go dressed as."

"Well, I," Draco began, "would go dressed as the greatest wizard of our time."

"Weasley?" Harry asked, smiling.

"Gods, no!" Draco groaned. He regarded Harry seriously. "I'd go as you, Harry."

Harry blushed, dropping his head slightly.

"That way," Draco continued, "I'd get to touch Harry Potter as much as I wanted without his running away."

Harry looked up surprised. "I don't run away," he objected.

"You ran last night," Draco countered.

"I left because Hermione called."

Draco continued staring at Harry. "How far would it have gone had she not called?"

Harry swallowed. That was something he had mulled about in his head all night and most of this day, until now. Because now he was sitting with Draco and the thought of being intimate with him again was too much. But Draco was forcing Harry to think about it again and he felt the lower regions of his body becoming stiff.

Harry stared down at Draco's lap. He noticed the swelling of Draco's manhood through his trousers. Harry had to control his hand; the direction his fingers wanted to take were to the buttons of Draco's pants. He wanted so badly to hold Draco in his hand: to feel the heat of Draco's erection in his palm. His heart was beating in his ears.

"Harry," Draco was saying softly. "What do you think of that idea?"

"What?" Harry said, his eyes snapping up to Draco's face.

"Changing places tonight. I go as you and you as me." Draco was smiling softly. He was still holding Harry's hand. Both boys were sporting sweaty palms.

"Oh," Harry smiled. "Yeah, that would be neat." He felt like a schoolgirl.

Draco smiled. "Then we've got to pretty you up. You are going to be a Malfoy for the night, after all, you lucky dog."

How, Harry thought, could anyone be so goddamned cocky?

"Right. Um, who's idea was this again, Malfoy?"

Draco smiled. "Shh. First of all," he ran his fingers across Harry's forehead, "I don't have a scar." Harry's scar disappeared. "Nor do I glasses," he added, removing Harry's glasses from his face.

"Nice, Malfoy," Harry smirked, "now I can't see."

Draco smiled, his face blurry to Harry. "You're pretty damn shag-able without your glasses. Close your eyes," he whispered.

Harry closed his eyes. He felt Draco sweep his fingers across his eyes.

"Open them," Draco murmured.

Harry opened his eyes slowly. Draco's face was no longer blurry.

"I'll have to remember that one," Harry smiled softly.

"And that hair," Draco teased. "That'll never do."

He moved his hand to run it through Harry's hair. Draco's hand buried deep into his hair, Harry leaned forward and kissed Draco fervently. Draco quickly returned the kiss, their tongues tumbling passionately around each other.

Draco broke the kiss, causing Harry to gasp, and laid back against the stone slab. He swiftly pulled Harry on top of him, making sure that their crotches were aligned, and began kissing Harry again, his fingers tangled in Harry's untidy black locks.

Harry drove his hips wildly against Draco's, his hands running the length of Draco's torso. Harry was using his weight to press his hips down against Draco, pinning Draco to the stone, as Draco arched his back to grind his hips upward against Harry.

Draco's hand ran down the back of Harry's neck, squeezing slightly, then down Harry's chest. He pulled at Harry's shirt, untucking it from the waist of his pants, and ran his fingers over Harry's tightly muscled stomach. His fingers gently pinched Harry's nipples, feeling them harden between his fingers. He ran his fingers back down Harry's chest and stomach, then hesitated at the waistband of Harry's pants. His fingers, seemingly having a mind of their own, quickly unbuttoned Harry's trousers and hid themselves in Harry's pants.

Draco moaned against Harry's mouth, wrapping his fingers around Harry's erection.

"Oh, fuck," Harry whimpered again and again against Draco's lips. His hips bucked frantically. He needed to feel Draco's skin against his and moved his hand to unbutton and release Draco from his pants.

As Harry's fingers fumbled with the fastening to Draco's pants, Draco's hand stopped stroking Harry.

"Wha - " Harry stammered, looking into Draco's frustrated eyes.

"Your bloody gem, that's what," Draco barked, reaching into Harry's pocket and withdrawing the vibrating garnet. "For fuck's sake, Harry," Draco said, pushing Harry off of him.

Harry grumbled, quickly tucking his still painfully aroused phallus into his pants and buttoning.

Draco quickly stood, reaching to retrieve his broom and mount it.

"Love calls," he muttered, soaring quickly to the sky.

********************

Harry was undoubtedly Harry Potter, and Draco was undoubtedly Draco Malfoy, but the two managed to magic remarkably suitable look-alikes. Harry, dressed as Draco, carried a silver and green mask. He wore a shimmering green cloak with a sliver fastening at the neck. He pinned the narcissi that Draco had given him to his cloak. Beneath his cloak, he wore glistening a silver tunic that was slightly baggy and tight black trousers. Draco, dressed as Harry, wore the Gryffindor Quidditch robes, decked out in the armor that he had given Harry for Christmas. The armor was adorned with small, ornately carved golden dragons.

When Harry had emerged from the dormitory, his hair sleeked and opaline blond, his glasses gone and his green eyes turned into gray pools of mercury, Hermione had gasped. Indeed, Harry looked magnificent as Draco Malfoy, but honestly.

Her flowing red gown was deeply cut at the neck, showcasing her generous bosom. The waist was cinched and broadcasted her curvy build.

"Why on Earth, Harry?" she began as he moved to take her arm and escort her to the feast.

Harry simply smirked, patting his girlfriend on the rear and telling her how shagadelic she was.

"You look like Malfoy," she said, "but that doesn't mean you need act like him."

Dinner was extraordinary and the Masque was fantastic. Draco slid across the room to Harry and Hermione, taking Hermione from Harry.

"She's mine this evening, Malfoy," Draco beamed. "Find your own ruddy date. I heard Blaise is free."

Chuckling, Draco swept a harried Hermione onto the dance floor.

Harry spent a good deal of the evening being Draco, which, in his opinion, entailed being the raucous center of attention and surrounding himself with as many girls and boys as he possibly could. He danced with them all, male or female, bowing confidently and kissing a myriad of hands. He was beside himself as he watched Hermione manage to loosen up as Draco manipulated her about the dance floor.

He looked across the Great Hall, noting that Neville was gliding Tracey about the floor with more grace than Harry thought Neville capable of. Ron was standing with Crabbe and Goyle and looking particularly surly, his eyes never leaving Draco and Hermione's moving figures.

Ginny strode over to Harry. She was wearing an elegant, high-necked black silk gown that, she informed Harry, Fred and George had sent her from China. The gown clung to Ginny's boyish body, making her seem even taller than her already impressive five feet seven and three-quarter inches. She reached for Harry, pulling him away from his scores of admirers to dance with her.

They quickly found Draco and Hermione on the crowded dance floor. Harry was pleased to see Hermione tilting her head back to laugh as Draco spun her round, holding her body tightly to him. Harry watched Draco's hips, undulating serpent-like: seductive and lithe.

Draco, seeing his doppelganger, spun Hermione with one hand, then Ginny with the other. He quickly, skillfully moved so that he was dancing with Harry and the two girls ended up facing each other.

Laughing, Hermione grabbed Ginny's hands and took the lead.

Draco pressed himself against Harry, holding the smaller boy by his waist. He dug his pelvis against Harry's.

Smiling, he leaned in close to Harry and whispered, "Gods, I am so sexy," in reference to Harry's costume, holding the "s" so that it sounded like a hiss. He leaned in closer and said even more quietly, "Are you always this hard, Harry?"

Harry smiled seductively and replied, "No. It's just that I can't take my eyes off of me. You're right. I am pretty shag-able."

Draco threw his head back, laughing joyously. He and Harry danced in a circle around Ginny and Hermione, both of whom were smiling broadly at the two handsome boys.

"Harry," Draco whispered again, "are we ever going to finish this?"

At the word "this," Draco subtly rotated his hips, his erection rubbing against Harry's.

Harry moaned softly. "Finish how?"

Draco leaned in, his lips near Harry's ear. "I want to feel you against me...I want you to be inside of me."

Harry moaned again.

"That's how we finish," Draco continued.

Harry wanted to say something, but he couldn't get his mouth to work properly. He found that he was having trouble standing and was using Draco to hold him up. Harry closed his eyes. He allowed Draco to control him: to twirl him around the dance floor; to move and manipulate his body to Draco's whim.

Suddenly they were no longer moving. Draco was standing still. Harry quickly opened his eyes, looking around him. Everyone else was still moving, he thought. Why had Draco stopped? He looked over and noticed that Hermione and Ginny had stopped dancing as well. He looked back toward Draco. There was a hand on Draco's shoulder.

Harry looked to see to whom the hand belonged and was confronted with a very downtrodden-looking Dumbledore, who was leaning in to whisper something into Draco's ear. The last thing Harry remembered seeing on Draco Malfoy's face was sheer terror before Draco closed his eyes and collapsed into Dumbledore's arms.