Transition

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Transition By Firesword
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~ Chapter Thirty: Harry, Draco and Hermione ~

Saturday, 12th September 1998.

It was a little after ten in the morning when the storm broke, and Dancers' Vale was enshrouded with heavy rainfall. Harry Potter managed to sleep through the loud growls of thunder and sharp cracks after each struck of lightning. However, he was woken by a gust of cold wind. Grumbling slightly to himself, he opened his eyes and turned his head to watch the window.

Seems like Draco's spell isn't effective to hold back a gale, Harry thought sluggishly. He blinked his sleepy eyes and continued to regard the pouring rain.

There was another gust of wind and he shivered. It was odd that his back was cold, but his cheek and chest were deliciously warm. He wrenched his eyes away from the window and looked down, beyond Draco's stomach. A wicked smile appeared on his lips, but after a while, it faded as he started to pity the Slytherin.

Harry took several deep breaths and concentrated. It did not take long for the temperature to rise slightly. Harry grinned, and stretched a little. He refrained from kissing the stomach, on which his head rested, since he knew it would wake Draco. He also tried not to drool as he admired Draco's most vulnerable part. He swallowed hard.

Then Draco stirred slightly under him, but did not wake. Instead, Harry heard him mumble. He frowned and strained his ears.

"... right. From now on, you'll be working in pairs..."

Harry almost laughed. Oh no! He talks in his sleep too?

"– don't want to kill any more crows..."

Harry felt Draco grimacing. He reached out and caressed Draco's cheek affectionately.

"Draco, wake up," Harry crooned softly. When Draco continued to murmur in his sleep, Harry sighed at his failure. He carefully raised his body and locked his eyes on the fair stomach. Then he kissed on the spot soundly.

~*~

"Aaahh!" Draco shrieked, and twisted his body away from Harry's soft lips. He sat up on the bed with his heart hammering forcefully in his chest. When he saw the roguish grin on Harry's face, he growled and pounced on his cheeky lover.

"Harry! How many times have I told you not to do that when I'm asleep?" he demanded. Then he suckled strongly on Harry's collarbone.

"Draco, you were talking in your sleep," Harry replied apologetically.

"That's absurd!" Draco scoffed but secretly, he was chagrined.

"Don't want to kill any more crows," Harry said then.

Draco stared mutely at Harry, and then he sighed. "All right – so I was talking in my sleep," he mumbled. He rested his forehead on Harry's shoulder. He was warm and comfortable, and was not at all surprised when he started to feel sleepy again.

He jumped slightly at a sudden clap of thunder and his unanticipated movement caused Harry to grunt. Draco liked the sound that Harry had made, and repeated his move.

"Draco." Harry glared at him.

Draco looked out of the window for a few seconds before staring deeply into Harry's eyes. "I don't think the rain will stop so soon," he said softly. "Since it's a Saturday, Harry, can you think about doing something to de-stress me?"

Luckily for him, Harry decided to play along, and he purred when his lover touched him gently. He rolled over so that he reclined on the mattress, thus making it easier for Harry. He let out a moan when he felt Harry's hot breath over him.

"Uhmmm ... love you, Harry."

~*~

It was about five in the evening when Harry and Draco went to their bedroom and settled on the couch. They had just finished practicing Occlumency, Legilimency and Defense charms as well. It was still raining and although Harry's magic kept the room warm, he felt more at ease with Draco close to him.

Unlike him, the fair-haired wizard chose not to witness the rain. The Slytherin's eyes were closed and he was content enough to be held by Harry.

Harry dropped a kiss on Draco's silver hair and his eyes returned to the window.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you unhappy?"

He looked down at Draco in surprise. "What makes you think that I am?"

Draco smiled crookedly. "Well, maybe not unhappy," his boyfriend amended. "Pensive."

"It's the rain," Harry replied after a moment. "Listen..."

It became so quiet in the bedroom that it felt as though the sound of the falling rain was amplified by a Sonorus charm. The rain rang in Harry's ears and it drowned all other sounds.

"There's no thunder – I hate rain that's ... quiet?" Harry did not know how else to explain it "It's just ... this sort of weather tends to make me contemplative and make me remember things ... unpleasant things."

Draco sighed and started to sit on his lap, with one leg on each of Harry's side. There was nothing provocative about the movement however, and Harry was greatly relieved. His boyfriend just wanted to be in a position where he could hug Harry easily.

"It's also kind of boring with the other two so preoccupied with each other," Draco commented.

Harry chuckled. "That's true. I felt as though I was talking to a brick wall while I was helping Elaviel clean the living room."

It took a while for their chuckles to die. When they were sober, Draco spoke, "Let's get ready and Floo to the Leaky Cauldron."

Harry looked dubiously at the window. "But it's still raining."

Draco snorted. "Just because it's raining here doesn't mean London is raining as well," the Slytherin said sardonically.

"All right, all right. I defer to your logic, my prince," Harry said mockingly. He slapped Draco's buttocks playfully. "Let's get ready."

~*~

Draco waited patiently for Harry to pay the bills, and rose to his feet once Harry signaled him to come forward. They had just finished their meal, and were now heading for Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions shop. They intended to get a set of robes as a birthday present for Hermione.

When they stepped out of the inn, he could not help but smile smugly. Although the cobbled street was wet, it was not raining. He felt Harry looking at him, and he put on his best 'I told you so' expression.

"Bloody Slytherin," Harry muttered and Draco chuckled.

They entered the shop and Draco ignored the two young assistants who were gawking at his boyfriend. Harry was heading towards the section with garments for witches, and Draco tugged at the Gryffindor's sleeve. Harry looked at him inquiringly.

"Go ahead and find a suitable style for Granger. I'm going to check something out first," he said to Harry. "Is that all right?"

Draco was shocked beyond speech Harry tiptoed and kissed his cheek, right in front of the assistants.

"Sure," Harry replied with a bright smile.

Draco's walk to the undergarment section was slightly hazy. He shook his head gently but the feeling of astonishment remained. He browsed through the different styles of underwear. He paused, fingering a dark red G-string. If only it's comfortable to wear, Draco thought regretfully.

He started to fantasize Harry do a striptease with the G-string and his cheeks colored rapidly. Bloody hell... Draco gulped. Without a second thought, he snatched it up, and chose a black one for himself. He also picked four others – ones that would expose a lot of flesh. I think I should charm them and tell Harry to wear them only on weekends, for me.... He licked his lips in excitement. Merlin. I don't need any sex toys to get high. Fantasizing about him is more than enough. Damn – I want to eat him.

Madam Malkin was minding the counter and Draco told the beaming witch to wrap his purchase. He paid for the undergarments and returned to Harry with a brown bag tucked under his arm.

"What did you buy?" Harry asked curiously after spotting it.

Draco sidled against him. "Sexy underwear," he replied in an undertone. He smirked at Harry's stunned expression. "Well, have you chosen anything for your friend?"

Harry stared at him blankly for another minute before replying. "I'm not really sure, but I think she'll look good in these."

Draco considered the robe on display. Then he raised his slim, fair eyebrow. "Are you sure?"

"What exactly are you asking, love?"

"The cutting. The shape," he answered impatiently. "Does she have the right chest size?"

"Draco, don't be insulting," Harry chided gently. "I've hugged her before, so I know it's suitable."

Unexpectedly, Draco started to feel hurt. He distracted himself by signaling to one of the assistants. "Excuse me, but do you have other colors for this set of robes, besides gray?" he asked the witch.

"Well. We have brown, muddy green, te –"

"What about indigo?" Draco cut in.

"Yes, sir."

"May we take a look at it?"

"Yes, sir. Please follow me."

~*~

Harry glanced nervously at his boyfriend. Draco had been strangely quiet after they had chosen Hermione's gift. Did I say something wrong? They entered a stationery store to browse for a suitable gift wrapper.

Draco looked serious as he considered the gift wrappers on sale. Harry could not stand the stony silence and took hold of Draco's hand just as the Slytherin reached out for a black-and-gold wrapping.

Harry knew that he was in trouble when Draco's face remained solemn. "Draco, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Draco replied shortly and moved away.

"Draco?" Harry looked at his boyfriend helplessly. What did I do? He took two of the wrappings and went in search for the Slytherin. As he reached one corner of the shop, his eyes watered suddenly and his heart ached. He had never felt anything like it before – the unhappiness he felt was somewhat profound.

It was purely coincidental that he found himself staring at the cover of a book about druid readings. He lifted the volume and browsed the index page. The word 'Draco' seemed to jump at him, and he decided to buy the book as well. Then he continued to search for Draco, but his lover was not in the store. He grew alarmed, until he noticed a silver-haired figure standing outside.

Harry quickly paid for the items and strode briskly to the spot where Draco had been standing a few minutes ago. Before his panic could return, he saw the latter sitting down on one of the benches.

He could not help himself. As soon as he sat down beside Draco, he hissed, "Don't do this again, Draco. Don't keep moving from one place to another without telling me!"

"I know," Draco said hoarsely. Harry took a closer look and was appalled to see that Draco was in pain. "It's my knee. I think I should ask Vine to ask Stachrin to reduce his offers."

"Draco, I'm sorry," Harry blurted out. He bravely cupped his lover's face and was happy to see Draco's gentle smile. "Maybe we should go to the hospital and let the medi-folks check your knee."

"I don't think it's necessary, love. You know what? I'm not looking forward to winter – I bet it'll ache," Draco said, grinning crookedly.

Harry ignored the wizards and witches who stared at them, and rested his head against Draco's shoulder. "Did I say anything wrong, Draco?"

"I don't know if I should be glad that I have a partner who is sensitive to my moods."

"Love, be serious. What's wrong?"

"It's quite ridiculous. I think it's the first time I'm truly jealous. It hurts like hell, Harry, a hundred times more than when I first saw you with the Firebolt."

Then Draco embraced him impulsively.

"I'm being silly." Draco sniffed a little. "Granger is your friend. I don't know why I'm jealous over a trivial thing."

Harry sighed and impulsively kissed the other wizard. "Draco Malfoy, if the person I wanted to be with is her, I would have locked horns with Ron a long time ago. I want you, I chose you, I love you , and that is that," he declared.

"But –"

"I'm not going to listen to your arguments. I only care to be intimately loved, supported, and cared by one person. That person happens to be called Draco Malfoy," Harry said with great finality. He stared penetratingly at Draco. "I am serious about us, love. I would not have given you this otherwise." He fingered the hematite ring.

"So did I," Draco whispered.

Harry breathed deeply to calm himself. "I think it's best if we eat some ice cream now. I need to cool down."

"Did I make you angry?" Draco asked meekly.

"No. I'm just hot." He leaned in. "I'm so hot and horny that I want to haul you into a dark alley and make love to you so hard you can't even scream," he whispered seductively in Draco's ear. "Then I want you to come all over me, and make me yours."

Draco groaned softly at his teasing words.

"You're the only one who can drive me crazy like this, Draco. Truthfully, you're the only one who can make me feel depressed in a matter of seconds."

Draco blushed and smiled shyly. "I'm sorry if I had made you feel horrible, Harry Potter. Let's go and have some ice cream."

Harry helped Draco up to his feet and they walked hand in hand to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, quite oblivious to the discourteous stares of others.

"Harry?" Draco called softly and he turned around to look. "I love you."

Merlin. He squeezed Draco's hand affectionately. He's changed so much – I did not expect him to say that in a place like this. He nearly screamed aloud with joy when he saw Draco's eyes blazed with love and tenderness. It did make him slightly giddy. Harry chose a seat near the corner, and Draco slid into place beside him.

"Well, what would you like to have?" Fortescue asked after she handed a menu to him.

Harry sensed Draco peering over his shoulder, and let his lover look at the menu. After several minutes, Draco jabbed a finger on one of the evening's recommendations. "Perfect for two, Harry. Twelve different flavors."

"All right then. We'll share a bowl of Hot Fudge Deluxe please," Harry told the patient-looking witch. Fortescue gave him a dimpled smile before walking away. He turned and stared at Draco with a serious expression. "But I'm not eating the one with Firewhiskey."

"Come on, Gryffindor! Don't be such a goose!" Draco teased.

"I'm not going to eat anything that can make me tipsy," he answered resolutely.

"But what if..." Draco leaned closer. "What if you're more, well, horny when you're drunk?"

"I really don't want to find out, Draco. And I don't need to be drunk to feel high," Harry murmured. "Smelling your hair is more than enough – it just make me want to put my hand inside your slacks and feel you." That earned him the silence he wanted, because if Draco continued to tease him, Harry was afraid that he would do something silly, like having Draco on the spot. He was not lying about Draco's scent. He was aroused, and he was glad that his underwear was not tight.

The huge bowl of ice cream was a welcomed distraction. Harry dipped his spoon and scooped up some chocolate ice cream, while Draco took a mouthful of lime-green colored ice cream. Harry chuckled when his boyfriend's face scrunched up after the first bite. Draco grimaced.

"Want to try some?" Draco asked after he recovered, and held up his spoon near to Harry's lips.

"What flavor?"

"Lime sherbet. I think."

Harry ate the ice cream and shuddered at the sour taste. "Blergh..." Draco laughed at his reaction.

It took them about thirty minutes to finish the huge bowl of dessert. Harry smiled upon seeing Draco's satisfied expression. He glanced around him, casually taking note of onlookers. No one was spying on him or Draco, and then Harry looked at the counter, where Florean Fortescue was busy creating another bowl of ice cream. He took the chance to kiss Draco, and pressed his palm against his lover's crotch.

He pulled away after ten seconds and put on a calm expression. "Do you want to go home, or do you want to hang out?"

"Home," his boyfriend whispered dreamily. "Let's go home."

It was while they were walking back to the inn when Harry felt a peculiar tingling sensation. Reflex took over – Harry turned around and pushed Draco behind him quickly. People walking all around ignored them, although a bent and old wizard muttered darkly about being shouldered.

The tingling sensation intensified.

"Protego!" Even Harry's shout was lost in the din of human conversation.

Someone had sent a hex in the young couple's direction, and fortunately for Harry, the hex was deflected on a stack of discarded boxes that were left beside Quality Quidditch Supplies. The sharp sound of wood splintering gained the crowd's attention.

~*~

It was on the tip of his tongue to demand his sable-haired lover why he had been pushed roughly. Then Draco saw it coming. As he was slightly taller than Harry was, who was shielding him, he was able to see the bolt of light rushing towards them. It was as if time slowed, and Draco managed to get a good look at the attribute of the magic.

"Protego!" Harry shouted with his arm stretched out.

It was then that Draco saw the figure that stood in the shadows, behind the street lamp on the juncture of Knockturn Alley. He froze. He felt somewhat paralyzed as he stared into what appeared like dark blue eyes. Draco saw that they were filled with anger and hatred just before the cloaked figure disappeared into the dark alley.

As he broke out of his trance, he witnessed the deflected hex cause some damage to the wooden crates. There was something familiar about the way the light sparkled after the impact, but it escaped him. He cursed, but stopped immediately when Harry pulled him into The Leaky Cauldron.

"Harry, should we inform Bluestone and Elaviel?" Draco asked his boyfriend softly. Harry nodded in response.

Draco was determined not to let the incident influence his thinking while he Flooed home, but once he was back in their living room, a particular thought ran in his mind over and over.

Is this an omen of some sort?

Harry was quiet and Draco knew that his boyfriend was deep in thought by the somber expression on his face. He set his shopping bags on their bedroom couch before shrugging his heavy cloak off his shoulders. He opened his mouth to call Harry and reached out to take his lover in his arms, but Harry was already leaving the bedroom. His lover's name died on his lips and Draco's fingers tightened around the doorknob. It took him a bit of effort to walk the few meters to the master bedroom.

When Bluestone opened the door and let them through, Draco chose to sit close to the window. He listened as Harry gave the curious, older wizards an account, and only added in his observations when the other three had finished talking.

"I don't know if this person is in any way connected with the hex, but those eyes ... they were full of hatred, and..." Draco trailed off with a frown.

"And?" Bluestone looked inquiringly at him.

"I'm not really sure," he replied with a frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry that I can't help much."

"Can't you make out the rest of the person's features?" Starkmind asked thoughtfully.

Draco shook his head. "The rest of his body was in the shadows, but I was able to make out that he wore a veil."

"You said 'he'. It's a wizard?" Harry cocked his head to one side and gave him a speculative look.

Draco nodded confidently. "If not a wizard, then a male at least. His eyes were too deep-set to belong to a female." Draco sighed and rubbed his temple. "I seem to be forgetting something. It's the hex. Are there any hexes or jinxes that give a bolt of dark green light ... and something like a comet's tail?" He looked at Starkmind hopefully.

The half-Veela frowned slightly and gave the impression that he was about to shake his head. Then his expression changed and he started to swear. "Someone was trying to tamper with your memories!" Starkmind exclaimed.

"What?" Draco gasped, his eyes widening with disbelief.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered softly. "I'm beginning to agree with Hermione and Snape."

"What do you mean?" Draco demanded.

"I think this is more than the usual 'Kill Harry Potter' business. That charm or hex – whatever it was, was meant for you, Draco," Harry said in a quiet, solemn voice.

"What?" Draco's voice came out only in a whisper. "But why?" Harry, Bluestone and Starkmind could only give him helpless looks.

Draco stood up abruptly and excused himself. He went back to his bedroom, undressed, and put on his sleeping robe before crawling into the huge bed. Confused thoughts whirled in his mind and he started to have a headache. Am I being punished for Voldemort's past actions or something? Draco thought sadly.

He turned to his left and closed his eyes. For some reason, he felt tired. Is Harry going to suffer, because of me? Am I given a taste of how Harry had been living for the past few years?

Draco heard Harry coming in and the door closed with a soft click. He did not speak even after Harry had settled down beside him. He contemplated the scenery beyond the window, where the trees and other things were recovering from the squall. Silence in the room deepened and Draco wanted to break it. He wanted to voice out his thoughts but something stilled his tongue. It was as though he was paralyzed. Draco continued to watch the battered world outside the pane of glass.

The mattress shifted as Harry moved, and Draco's back tingled. His eyes flared when the tassel holding the curtain up to one side vanished, and the landscape melted away. The bedroom became almost dark. Draco glowered but then he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

"Don't do this, Draco," Harry whispered. "Draco." A strong hand grasped his shoulder and pulled him back. As gray eyes moved to watch the ceiling, Harry raised himself, and Draco was trapped by the sharp, piercing gaze.

There's almost no light in here, so how can his eyes glow? Draco thought in amazement.

"Draco."

The sound of his name brought him out of his dreamy trance. Draco found that it was difficult to breathe as he gazed into the pair of emerald eyes. "Don't do what, Harry?"

Soft fingers caressed his left cheek tenderly. "Don't cloak yourself, love. Don't shroud yourself with that wall of ice," Harry whispered. "Talk to me."

Draco caught a glimpse of anguish in the eyes he loved. Have I become his weakness? The worrying thought flashed in his mind. "Can't I be un-talkative once in a while?" he asked, and smiled weakly at his poor attempt to lighten their moods.

"I won't mind if the silence is natural, love, but the one you gave me several seconds ago, and back when we're in Diagon Alley was not normal," Harry answered.

"You are weird, Gryffindor. Do you know that?" Draco murmured, raising his hand to stroke Harry's thick hair. Then he sighed. "I don't know what to think or say about what happened earlier." He stared up at Harry again, hoping that the other wizard would somehow understand.

"I'm afraid too, Draco," Harry said and Draco closed his eyes.

It was hard admitting to himself that he was frightened. To acknowledge that aloud was just something a Slytherin would never do.

"Proud Slytherin," Harry echoed.

In the darkness, Draco had a feeling that his boyfriend's lips had quirked up into a smile. "A Slytherin isn't born humble, Gryffindor," he said almost petulantly. He heard a soft titter coming from above him. "I hate you." Harry's chuckles grew louder.

While he sulked, Harry climbed on top of him, and Draco had no choice but to feel thrilled. He loved to cuddle the kind and thoughtful wizard. "Gods ... I'm hopeless," he sighed and squeezed Harry. "Tell me something, love. How did you stay sane after all these years? Didn't you feel paranoid?"

"Not so much, I guess," Harry replied. "But Snape was always there to get hammered on."

Draco had to laugh at that.

"So, what are you going to do, Draco?"

Draco shrugged. "There's no point in being too edgy about it. I'll just keep on practicing hexes and keep both of my eyes open."

"I will always be with you."

"I think we're sickening. Our lives could be in danger and we're still behaving like a pair of lovesick fools. And we're going to be teachers ."

"Who cares?"

"Harry." Draco kissed the Gryffindor, and became aroused by their contact. "Tomorrow night ... wear one of the new underwear. Please?"

They kissed fervently, and Draco asserted a bit of force as he sucked on Harry's tongue. However, a few minutes later, he wavered and Harry regained dominance over him.

"What on earth for?" Harry asked hoarsely. "Want me to striptease?"

Draco could not reply as Harry toyed with him. For the next two hours, he could not speak, but as their fevered union carried him to the peak, he uttered, "Harry."

~*~

Sunday, 13th September 1998.

Harry struggled not to fume as he trudged back to the bedroom. All afternoon, Bluestone and Starkmind had been giving him odd looks. What made it worse was that Harry suspected that they noticed his discomfort.

Why in the hell did I promise Draco I'd wear it? Harry wailed silently. Why in Merlin's name does anyone wear a G-string?

"Because it's capable of making someone horny as it rubs along the crack."

Harry shook his head vigorously as he remembered what Draco had said while they were bathing. Damn him and his sexy voice! He strode briskly for the couch and flopped onto it sullenly. Draco was not in the room and he sighed. "And damn him for being right," he muttered under his breath.

Then he remembered the book he had bought last night and summoned it. He searched the index again and then flipped to page seventy-four.

Independence. That was the first word that caught his attention.

"Draco – is the dragon entwined around the Pole Star," Harry read the passage softly. "Those born on the fourth to the thirteenth day of October shall strive for independence." By the end of the extract, Harry had become slightly unsettled and his skin prickled uncomfortably. "Those born in October are also represented by Ivy, the clambering evergreen. It is said that this group possess abilities that will help them achieve their personal goals."

Harry shuddered.

The bedroom door opened and Draco strolled over to the dresser. The Slytherin placed a neatly, wrapped parcel on it gently. In the meantime, Harry locked the door with a quick wave of his hand. Then he closed the book and slid it back into its place in the bookshelf.

"Draco, come here," he called and his boyfriend came to sit beside him. Harry smiled inwardly and ran his hand along Draco's thigh. Sparkling bottle-green eyes met crystal-clear gray ones, and Harry watched as gray eyes lowered to look at his teasing hand. "Love, were you born in October?"

His boyfriend suddenly gave him a vivacious smile, and his heart throbbed. "Yes," Draco replied.

"Tell me yes or no. Are you born between the fourth and thirteenth?"

"Yes."

Harry smiled and made a guess. "The eighth. Were you born on the eighth of October, Draco?" His eyes widened when Draco kissed him unexpectedly.

"Correct."

"Wow." Harry grinned. "I hope I won't forget it."

"If you do, I won't let you sleep on the bed," Draco said with a toss of his head.

"That's all?" Harry raised his eyebrow. "I thought you would give me a harsher punishment."

"Like no sex for two weeks?" Draco asked sweetly, and he nodded. "But what if I'm hungry and really want you inside me? What then?"

Before Draco could work to gain the upper hand, Harry moved first. He stood up and drew out his wand. Then he started to cast Silencing Charms around the bedroom. I wish we had a portable radio or something, Harry thought regretfully. When he was done, he placed his wand on the end table. He looked across the room and assumed a seductive posture.

Seated on the couch, Draco looked at him with wide eyes and with lips slightly parted. "Harry," Draco breathed.

Harry smiled provocatively, and trailed his fingers along his chest. "Ready for the show?"

~*~

Saturday, 19th September 1998. The Burrow.

She sang to herself as she helped Mrs. Weasley tidy up the tiny kitchen. Hermione Granger had just celebrated her birthday with her boyfriend's family. Although Ginny Weasley was in Hogwarts, Hermione still received a birthday card from the impish, red-haired witch, and she smiled gently as she thought about the girl.

Hermione had a plan, and she hoped that Ronald Weasley, her sweetheart, would be willing to accompany her on a date. A date with her handsome, ebony-haired best friend, and her best friend's boyfriend. However, the only thing that was troubling her was how she should ask her partner out.

"Mrs. Weasley, can I put the bowl in here?" she asked Ron's mother politely.

"Yes, dear," the stodgy witch answered dreamily. Her twin sons, both of whom were hugging her, caused the slight preoccupation. Fred and George had to go back to their shop.

"Hey, Hermione." At Fred's whispered call, she turned and looked at him inquiringly. "Good luck!"

She smiled and nodded. Then she heard someone coming down the staircase, and Ron appeared. His red hair was wet and was dripping water all over the floorboards. His mother started to scold him, and Hermione sighed. Ron had to go for a second shower after the twins decided to waste at least a quarter of her birthday cake to plaster his face. Secretly, she used a spell on her boyfriend when he was not looking.

"Hermione!" Ron looked embarrassed.

She tried not to chuckle when Mrs. Weasley glanced at them. Ron's mother rolled her eyes and thrust a kitchen towel to her youngest son before heading outside. As Hermione had expected, once they were not in the direct gaze of Mrs. Weasley, Ron quickly pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. She could feel him, and blushed.

"Do you have any plans tonight, Ron?"

"Yes..."

Her vision went out of focus when Ron pushed her back against the sink and pressed his groin against her abdomen. "Ronald! Be serious!" she squeaked. "Can we go out for dinner tonight?"

"I want to eat you," Ron whispered.

"Ron!" she hissed, and her face turned bright pink. "Please? I promised Harry." She looked up hopefully. "Can we meet him tonight?"

Ron pulled away immediately and she winced at the look the tall wizard gave her. "Why do you bother about him?"

"I bother about him because he is my friend, Ron," she said quietly.

"He doesn't need us anymore, Hermione. He already has that stinking rich ferret!"

"Just because Harry has a boyfriend doesn't mean he can't have friends!" she snapped. In the back of her mind, she wondered if it occurred to Ron that she meant herself as well. "Mrs. Weasley! I'm going to Floo over to Professor Starkmind's house!"

"So early?" Mrs. Weasley shouted in reply.

"Harry promised me to take me into a shop selling windchimes. I thought I would get one for mum!"

"Okay then, dear. Oh – please tell Harry to take good care of himself," Mrs. Weasley said. Then she asked, "Ron, why don't you go with Hermione?"

"I'm going back to the shop," Ron said and left Hermione in the kitchen. A few seconds later, she heard a sharp crack. Then Mrs. Weasley came in and wordlessly hugged her.

"Honestly, that boy." The older witch shook her head disapprovingly. "Don't blame him for his reaction, Hermione dear."

"I'm not blaming him for his reactions towards Draco Malfoy – that's understandable, but I'll be quite angry if he thinks I should abandon my friends just because I have a partner," she said with a tight smile. "Well, tell Ron I'll be back about ten, and that I want to have a long talk with him." Hermione sighed and smoothed her hair. "Do I look okay?"

"You look just fine, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied gently, and handed her a scarf and her bag. "Have a good time, and remind Harry to owl me once in a while. I'd love to know how he's coping with his duties." Then Ron's mother coughed and her cheeks turned red. "Of course, I also want to know if Draco is taking good care of him."

"I think they're quite smitten with each other, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said cheerfully.

"I wonder if they'll ever get married." Mrs. Weasley looked thoughtful.

Hermione just smiled and took a handful of Floo Powder. She stepped into the Weasleys' huge fireplace and took a deep breath. I hope I won't sound silly uttering this.

"The Lovenest," she said clearly and vanished into swirling, green flames.

~*~

"Damn," Harry swore as Draco defeated him in a game of wizard chess. "Not fair," he said crossly.

His boyfriend shrugged. "When is your M – ahem – I mean Granger, arriving?"

Harry smiled shakily, and wondered if he should reply or keep mum. During their early fire-talk, Hermione had said she would turn up about five in the afternoon. Draco did not know about their conversation, so Harry decided on his own to be ready early.

"I swear I'll bite you if you say she's coming here at five," Draco said lightly. "And not four."

Damn.... Harry had no idea that he appeared guilty until Draco exclaimed and scrambled up to his feet. Harry tried to climb off the couch and escape into the kitchen but Draco was quicker.

"Aaahhh!" Harry yelped as Draco pinned him down.

"You idiot! We could have stayed in our room for another hour at least!"

"Owwww! Owww!" he shrieked as Draco started to pinch and poke him. "Draco! My shirt!"

"To hell with it!" Draco growled, but his fingers released the shirt.

Harry flushed with pleasure as Draco leaned down to kiss him. His lips tingled where Draco's wet tongue had stroked them, and he promptly forgot about Hermione. He slipped his fingers into Draco's fine hair and massaged scalp and neck as they kissed. Harry did not hear the slight rumble, the soft gasp or the coughs.

"I'd told Mrs. Weasley that the two of you are getting along fine," a voice said with surprising mildness. "But I did not expect to see the two of you getting it on."

Harry's face turned red immediately. Oh gods. I want to disappear. It was quite surprising that Draco looked ashamed as well. "Hermione, you're early."

"How long are the two of you going to stay like that?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "Up, Draco Malfoy. The two of you promised to show me some windchimes. Let's go before we have dinner."

Harry and Draco smiled sheepishly at each other and they disengaged. Harry stood up, adjusted his glasses, and smoothed his robes. Then he stared with great amusement as his friend hugged a bewildered, and still shame-faced, Draco.

"Uh ... happy birthday," Draco said, casting an uncertain look at him.

"Thank you," Hermione replied, and smiled crookedly.

Harry embraced the birthday girl, but did not hold Hermione too long. He really did not want Draco to give him the cold shoulder again. "Happy birthday, Hermione."

The witch gave him a charming, dimpled smile. "Thank you, Harry." She looked around. "Where are Professor Starkmind and his husband?"

"Right here, Miss Granger," two voices piped up. Harry looked in the direction of the kitchen and found Bluestone and Starkmind peering through the archway. He snickered at their tousled expressions.

"Aren't the two of you giving them too much pressure?" Hermione inquired, looking sharply at Harry.

"We're all right, Miss Granger," Starkmind answered airily. "We don't mind the pressure."

"Thank to them, our lives have become much, much more exciting," Bluestone added.

"Hermione, let us make ourselves presentable, and then we'll go out," Harry told the witch. "Anyway, come along – we'll show you our room."

"Are you sure?" Hermione gave him a dubious look. Harry saw Hermione give Draco a glance, but his boyfriend shrugged. "I guess it's all right then."

Harry decided to walk ahead, but he paused as Hermione stopped to admire the painted glass window and the carvings. "The library, balcony and workrooms are upstairs. You can roam around if you like," he told the curious witch, who was peering at one of the marble carvings.

"And miss the details of how the two of you are sharing a bedroom?" Hermione straightened and eyed him slyly.

It seemed to Harry that he would not be able to stop blushing that day. "You are having fun, aren't you?" he asked Hermione accusingly.

"Tons of it," Hermione grinned. "It's just too bad Ginny is at school. I think I'd love to see her face turn blue and hear her tease you."

"Thank Slytherin she's a year younger," Draco muttered. "I would have stick her onto the ghoul up in the attic."

Harry smiled slightly and opened the door. He signaled Hermione to enter and then he immediately went over to the mirror to check his hair. I think I need a haircut.

"From where did you Floo, Granger?"

Harry turned to see what Hermione was doing since she took so long to reply. Then he nearly screamed. "Draco, do you think we can use a Memory Charm on her?" he asked his crimson-faced boyfriend.

"Did you really have to know what we have inside our wardrobe, Her-mio-ne?" Draco questioned her through gritted teeth.

"What the heck is this, Harry?" Hermione asked with a strained voice, holding up a thin piece of dark blue fabric.

"Never mind, Hermione. Put it back."

"And this one?"

"HERMIONE!" The two wizards wailed.

"Why on earth do you have thongs?"

"HERMIONE!"

"That's it, love. I'm not giving her the present!"

"Oh? Then I'll tell Ginny, who'll tell Tonks, who will then tell Remus, and finally, it will probably reach the ears of a certain greasy-haired wizard."

"Don't I have a say in this?"

"Unfortunately, no." Hermione looked smug, and carefully put away the sexy underwear. "But I'll be good if you tell me where you got them."

"Those are for men only, Granger," Draco told her.

"Obviously." The witch rolled her eyes sardonically.

Harry blinked and shook his head slightly. She is joking. Did I hear her right? "Bloody hell ... Ron ... you ... serious?"

"Obviously."

"Bloody hell."

~*~

Draco stared at the witch who was watching him, and waited for her to speak. However, she did not and looked away, but he saw that she was smirking. He sighed. How is it that she is able to look right through me? Moreover, why is she troubling herself by doing her best not to make me jealous?

Hermione had actually made Draco walk beside her, so that he was between her and Harry. In addition, she had acted as though she had known him for years, as though that he, not Harry, was her best friend. When Hermione linked her arm through his after they exited the gift store, Harry had looked at them with amusement.

Damn it. Gryffindors are so good at reminding me that I'm still human. Draco shook his head slightly and followed Hermione's gaze. His eyes sought Harry, and saw the wizard disappear into the bathroom.

"You were from The Burrow, weren't you?" he asked Hermione in a soft voice. "Why didn't you bring him along?" Then he raised an eyebrow when the witch sighed explosively, as though she was letting go of her frustration through her act.

"I did plan to bring him along, but I used the wrong approach. I tried to be honest with him, and so I failed. Maybe I should have dragged him first and told him later."

"Hmmmm." Draco downed the last of his wine. "Well, how long is your partner going to remain stubborn? Doesn't he miss talking to Harry?"

"I don't know."

"You'd better tell him to talk to Harry, because I'm not going to go away," he said, leaning back against his chair.

"I really don't know what to do with him," Hermione said, looking downcast. "I think the only way to reunite the two of them is to wait for Ron to accept you as Harry's lover."

"But how long is that going to take?" Draco asked sharply. "He's like a Tasmanian devil – once he grabs hold of something, he isn't likely to let it go. Like his grudges on the Malfoys. I can understand why he detests me, but does he have to be inconsiderate to Harry as well?" Hermione appeared startled at his tone and since Draco noticed that his lover was coming back to their table, he decided to change the topic. "What are you doing now? Are you still living with your Muggle parents?"

"Well..."

Draco felt a slight touch on his head and he turned around slightly. He looked up to Harry's eyes. He forgot about Hermione for a few seconds as he savored the caresses made by his Harry's fingers.

"Ahem."

His dazed state was broken by Hermione's cough.

"Hello, Harry. I was just about to tell your white-furred ferret what I'm doing right now," Hermione said with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"I'm not a ferret!" Draco protested vehemently. "Harry!"

"Calm down, love," Harry said soothingly.

Draco still seethed however. Ferret? Ferret? I'm a bloody snow-white fox!

"Hermione, Draco's not a ferret. He's a fox," Harry said gently to his best friend.

To add to the Slytherin's injury, Hermione pretended not to hear the emerald-eyed wizard, and informed them what she was doing instead. "I'm working for the Ministry, and I'm under Raveneye," the witch said.

"Raveneye?" Draco looked curiously at Harry.

"She's an Auror. She also helped to search the Hogwarts grounds during the Quidditch accident," Harry informed him. "Why are you working under an Auror? I thought you said you wanted to be an Unspeakable."

"Their training seems to be similar, so I guess that is why Kingsley put me under her care. Oh, I'm crashing at Tonks in the meantime while the apartment I rented gets renovated."

They spent the rest of the evening talking, but most of it was of Hermione asking Harry and Draco questions. After about an hour or so, Draco felt a little nervous about being in the crowded restaurant, and he told Harry that he wanted to walk and stretch his legs.

"How's your knee, Draco? Have you let the medics screen you?" Hermione inquired as they walked out of The Spark.

"No time," he replied. Then they bumped into the warlock, Jason Kanic, who was also a teacher from the centre. Kanic insisted on kissing Hermione's hand in greeting, much to Draco's great amusement and Hermione's profound embarrassment.

"You great lout!" a female voice screamed. "You leave her alone right now, you lecherous sorcerer! Hands off! Hands off!"

Kanic looked caught and Apparated away immediately. Draco looked around to find the hysterically, screaming witch, but he could not locate the latter. Then he heard a trill of delighted laughter. Strange, but doesn't that sound like –

"Vine?" Harry looked stunned.

A few seconds later, although Draco could not see the individuals, he heard their voices clearly as though he was standing beside them.

"Elron, you'd better start running," someone who sounded like Bluestone suggested.

"I agree. It appears that a certain surly-looking wizard is approaching us," a second voice added helpfully. "You really should make yourself scarce, in case that man decides to interrogate you about a certain case of a misplaced chest containing a Boggart."

While Hermione looked clueless, Harry and Draco started to chortle. They heard a sharp crack and sixty seconds passed before the person with Starkmind's voice spoke. "You know, husband, I don't think running will help Elron at all. They live next to each other."

"Quite right. I think Elron's pranking days are over, for a little while at least," Bluestone answered sententiously.

"I wonder if Vine was a Marauder wanna-be," Harry mused.

Draco snorted and smiled crooked. He cast a sidelong look at Hermione, who looked lost and irritated. "Shall we take another look at windchimes?"

"It's already nine, ferret," Hermione said scathingly. "Let's go home, give me my present, and I'll go back."

"Can we not give her the gift, love?" Draco feigned a look of resignation as he spoke to Harry.

"Uh, I don't think so, love. I really don't want Ginny, Tonks – anyone – to know that I wear a thong just for you."

"Merlin. I can't believe I just heard that!" Hermione exclaimed.

Draco sighed. "I see. Oh well. Let's go home quickly and be done with it. Since the other lovebirds are out wandering, I think we can have a bit of adventure at our balcony." Then he laughed at Hermione's stunned countenance.

I'm so proud to be a Slytherin, Draco thought to himself.

"I can't believe you're thinking that right now!" Hermione wailed even as they started to walk back into the house where Harry and Draco lived with Bluestone and Starkmind.

~*~

Hogwarts. Dumbledore's office.

Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, felt the beginnings of a headache as he pondered about the news he had received from the head of Aurors, Kingsley Shacklebolt. He sighed and set aside the sheaf of notes. He stood up and walked towards his phoenix. Fawkes was busy preening, but his pet did not mind him scratching his crest.

I am enervated, Dumbledore thought sadly. Why am I still here? His face took on a distant expression.

"Perhaps you people should have done him a service and let him die when he was supposed to, after You-Know-Whose defeat." He had glimpsed those words in Draco Malfoy's message. Dumbledore did not really intend to pry, but at that time, he was curious as to what the young Slytherin thought of his peer-tutoring plan.

A knock on his door brought him out of his reverie. He took a deep breath and assumed a calm expression just as the Deputy Headmistress entered.

"What is it now, Albus?" McGonagall asked, somewhat brusquely than usual.

"I'm afraid that it is about Harry, Minerva. Read those." He pointed his chin at the stack of parchment on his desk. "I've also called in the members of the Order, to try and figure out what the attacks on Slytherins, Harry, and Draco are all about."

"It is more than revengeful purpose then?" McGonagall asked tiredly.

"Do not crumple the notes up, Minerva. We might still need them," he reminded her gently.

At that moment, the fireplace in his office rumbled noisily. He nodded at McGonagall, and seated himself on a comfortable armchair. The advantage of being as ancient as I am, I suppose, he thought wryly.

It took a while for his guests to settle down, and as usual, his Potions Master made a grand appearance, followed by Remus Lupin. I'm glad that he looks alert and less fatigued.

"I just don't understand it!" Nymphadora Tonks exploded. The young Auror rose to her feet and started to pace at the back of the office. "Was the sample Raveneye processed those months ago really belonged to Bagman, or had the culprit took Polyjuice Potion with Bagman's essence as well?"

"Like all identification tests, Tonks, some have their limitations," one of the bespectacled witches with Raveneye said wearily.

"So, are we ready to explore the fact that Ludo Bagman had been a victim himself?" Kingsley sounded grave.

"Very well," Dumbledore agreed. "Let's take a look at the report." He waved his hand negligently at the small blackboard, and Kingsley's findings were copied onto it instantly. "Three mornings ago, the mutilated body of Bagman was discovered in Knockturn Alley. Test results showed that he had been dead for several months earlier before the attack on the Slytherins was carried out."

"They found traces of poison in him?"

Dumbledore's azure eyes flickered over to watch Snape, and he nodded slightly at the Potions Master's inquiring look.

"Snake venom, to be more precise," Kingsley added.

"I see. And since he was not much of a wizard, perhaps that is why he succumbed to the effects of venom so easily," Snape observed.

"You mean Muggles and wizarding folks react to venom differently?" someone asked sarcastically. Snape did not answer but his black eyes frosted immediately.

"Could it be possible that whoever who murdered Bagman had lent some money to the deceased?" Remus asked in a thoughtful voice. "Since we all know that ... well..."

"It is a possibility," Dumbledore agreed softly. He stood up and approached Tonks. He clasped the Auror's shoulder reassuringly, and his gesture seemed to calm her. She returned to her seat beside Kingsley immediately. "I also think it is entirely possible that the real culprit," he looked at Tonks for a second, "is a Metamorphmagus."

Tonks, Raveneye, even Snape, opened their mouths to give their opinions, but then, they fell silent. Dumbledore waited patiently by the sideline, to let the people in his office contemplate about the probability.

"It is possible that the blood of a Metamorphmagus, coupled with the blood after consumption of the Polyjuice Potion might scrambled the identification test kit a little," Raveneye said slowly.

"Professor Dumbledore." Tonks had started to pace again. "Before we look on the likelihood that the miscreant is a Metamorphmagus, I'd like to ask all of you, if you know of anyone that resembles Harry. And please do not make light of the situation by saying, 'Yes. James Potter'."

Dumbledore frowned. This was quite new news to him. "What is this all about, Tonks?"

It took the young female Auror half an hour to give him a detailed account of her nervous encounter on the night of Harry's birthday, since she had talked without pausing for breaths.

"Being a Metamorphmagus is rarer compared to those who are Animagi," Moody rasped. "There should be a record about folks born with the uncommon gift."

"Thank Merlin that this is an inborn talent and not something that can be learnt," someone muttered.

Dumbledore redirected the discussion back to Bagman, but it was evident that they were not getting anywhere after an hour.

"I, for one, am no investigator," McGonagall said abruptly. "Albus, can't we let the experts handle this?"

"Kingsley, shall I rein in Granger's help?" Raveneye sounded anxious. "We may need her."

Dumbledore and Shacklebolt stared at each other for quite some time. "I'm afraid it is up to you, Kingsley."

"She's capable," Moody said firmly. "I am going now, Albus, but I have the feeling that we will talk again soon." Dumbledore could not help but smile slightly as he saw the retiree exchange a glance with Snape.

"Severus, Remus, please stay. I need to talk to the two of you."

Dumbledore waited until the others departed before conjuring a chair to sit closer to the two silent wizards. He feigned a slightly annoyed look, and nearly gave himself away by chortling. Who would have guessed? So they are keeping their romance alive, even in this castle, he thought slyly. "The reason I asked you to remain behind, is not to rebuke you for your activities," he began. Severus Snape and Remus Lupin turned redder. "Actually, I don't mind." He smiled, but only for a moment. "I am worried by Tonks' encounter, Severus. Remus, I asked you to stay so that Severus would have no chance to lie to you. I'm afraid that I may need his services as a spy once again."

Remus stared at him, and his Potions Master looked troubled.

"What I want to know is, whether there is anyone who hates Draco, enough to eliminate him, yet keep him alive at the same time."

"Headmaster, do you know something the rest of us don't?"

"Intuition," Dumbledore replied simply. "I fear that all of this, is actually targeted to hurt one person, and I'm afraid that it is your godson who is in the most trouble. It is just a feeling however, and nothing concrete," he warned.

When he was finally alone with Fawkes, he sighed, and slumped in his chair. He did not know what it was, but he had the feeling that he knew something he could not quite grasp. All of them felt tied to Draco and Harry, but he could not figure it out. Dumbledore frowned and massaged his temple. I am weary, he repeated to himself. The ancient wizard remained in the chair while he stroked the feathers of his phoenix, and his eyes exuded consternation as he pondered. The office became silent and the ticking of the huge clock from the tower could be heard even in the remotest area of the castle. Time continued to move forward, unheeding of anything else.

~*~