Of Love and Ley Lines

[Author ID1: at Tue Oct 24 18:16:00 2006 ]

Author's Notes= Again, eternal thanks go to both of my betas!

This chapter is slightly shorter than the last one >.< I'll try to write more next time! Promise! Sorry for the long wait between chapters. Real life is a pain sometimes! Thanks for reading, please review!

*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Are you sure about this, sir," Harry asked once the Headmaster had finished explaining his theory to him, "or is this just another one of your ideas?"

His voice was cold. It was the first time he had spoken since Malfoy and Dumbledore had arrived. Throughout Dumbledore's explanation, he had surveyed the two men before him in silence, his gaze both calculating and uncomfortably penetrating.

"Just an idea, my boy, but one I am fairly certain will be proven correct." When Harry offered no comment on this statement, Dumbledore sighed heavily before continuing, "Look, Harry, I know that I made a grave mistake - one that has most dearly cost you in particular. However, my mistakes are few and far between and I would hate to think that, in my failed attempt to protect you, I have lost all the faith you once had in me."

Draco listened to this proclamation with all the interest expected of the Slytherin leader. What interested him most was not the apparent closeness between Harry and the Headmaster -- he had long since known and resented that. Neither was it the fact that Dumbledore had apparently wronged Harry. No, what surprised Draco the most was that Harry's reactions to everything and his cold, calculating manner, were at complete odds with the Gryffindor pin-up boy idea he had of the raven-haired man in the bed beside him.

Deciding that he could always question Potter about it later, Draco refocused on the issue at hand. "Professor, I'm still unclear as to why you think that Potter and I are Elemental Healers -- surely anyone with the knowledge that I possess of certain spells could have healed him. You said that there was a way to prove this theory wrong?"

The Headmaster smiled slightly before helping himself to a packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from Harry's usual collection of "get well soon" gifts -- both from his friends and his numerous female admirers (the presence of whom he was, of course, oblivious to).

"Perceptive as ever, my boy. Yes, there is a simple way to prove or disprove my theory -- though I doubt either of you will be ecstatic about it...hmmm."

He paused to select himself a bean and slipped it into his mouth before cringing melodramatically and muttering something that sounded like "grass". Draco raised an eyebrow at the behaviour, but Harry merely rolled his eyes and prompted the old man.

"You were saying, sir?"

"I was? Oh, yes...Well you see, boys, the way in which the event occurred wasn't like your average healing. You felt the magic cast in your vision, Harry. You had never experienced that before and I think that saying it was caused by Mister Malfoy being there is a safe assumption to make. Mister Malfoy's healing came almost subconsciously -- he didn't even have to analyse which spells to use. Again, I think that was because of your presence, Harry; it was as though, even in your unconscious state, you were doing your job as the Elemental Healer duo and sensing your own ailments for Mister Malfoy. This is the only explanation I can see for these circumstances."

Both boys remained sceptical, but each thought about the Headmaster's words with a slight, niggling doubt at their own disbelief.

"Then of course, there is the very nature of the situation itself. Mister Malfoy, I believe you were angry with Harry when you went looking for him. Why then would you, his schoolyard nemesis and son of a Death Eater -- now don't interrupt, I am speaking frankly, I know -- but why would you stop and heal him?"

The question hung heavy in the air. Even Harry's calm and pensive expression flickered with questions as he turned to regard Draco. The Slytherin looked down, as though fascinated with the floor tiles. That's what stings, what feeds my doubts, he thought sullenly. I could argue with him, say it was human instinct...or even a regrettable error on my part. It could well have been a mistake; Merlin knows that my father will think so. But instinct? Certainly not like any normal instinct I have had before...

"You see what I mean, Draco?" The use of his given name wasn't missed. He tries to comfort me?! Even in his head his voice sounded incredulous. What fucking comfort can there be for going against my father, my upbringing? I may wish to remain unmarked. I may loath Voldemort. I'd even go as far to say that I wish that Father wasn't involved. But those are just thoughts and they can't cause any damage...actions are a little more real, more dangerous.

"Don't trouble yourself, my boy. If my theory is right, then you will have felt a natural desire to help Harry -- like an instinct embedded within you so deeply, that you couldn't fight it should you try to. As for you, Harry, how did you feel when you awoke to find yourself in Draco's arms?"

A light blush crept over Harry's face and he seemed to be concentrating very hard on not looking at Draco. Now that's interesting, was the thought flashing across Draco's mind, amusing and distracting him from his previous self-inquisition.

"Comforted? Relieved? Safe? Oh, don't feel embarrassed!" the old man chuckled. "Neither of you could have helped these things and that is precisely my point. Elemental Healers are not just two random people working together. They are anam cara, soul friends, naturally bonded to the very core. Your bond is dormant -- as are all natural bonds to begin with. You acted as you did because one of you was in danger; your bond was forced to stir in order to ensure your, and consequently its, survival.

"All you need to do is activate this bond and you can start to train as Elemental Healers. Once you do this, though, there is no going back. You have a choice now. If you choose to ignore this bond, chances are you can live perfectly normal lives. You probably won't even be aware of the bond unless one of you is in grave danger. Just like say, a Metamorphagus doesn't have to morph. But once they do, it can happen involuntarily if they are endangered. If you activate your bond, the extent to and way in which it will affect you is both unknown and irreversible."

A tense silence fell -- what was one supposed to say in response to something like that? A thousand questions buzzed around Draco's head but it was as though he had lost all ability to voice them. Harry wasn't faring much better as he opened and closed his mouth several times before collapsing back against his pillows.

Dumbledore rose with a grace that defied his age. "I will leave you boys alone to talk for a while, and then I recommend Harry rests a while longer. Madam Pomfrey thinks you will be fit for classes tomorrow, providing you stop your 'I'm fine' proclamations and take your medicine. The three of us will discuss this subject tomorrow evening at six o'clock in my office. Harry, thank you for the beans -- though, I must admit that I find myself preferring Mars Bars these days."

The Headmaster turned and wandered from the room, leaving a rather speechless Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy about to attempt their first civilised conversation to date.

"Mars Bars?" Draco's curiosity broke the ice with an incredulous tone. "What the fuck is a Mars Bar?"

"For a spoiled, pure-blooded aristocrat, you are seriously deprived! Even I have had a Mars Bar before. They're a type of Muggle candy."

"Deprived? Moi? Why in sweet Salazar's name would I eat Muggle confectionary? And, on that note, what did you mean 'even you' have had one? Weren't you brought up by Muggles?"

Harry nodded once before turning away. Hmm...a sore spot, huh? I never knew he had family trouble. Where Draco would once have been elated to have new ammunition with which to tease Harry, he now found himself generally interested. It was like getting to know a completely different person from the Potter he knew before.

Just as Draco was struggling to change the conversation topic, Harry exhaled heavily before turning back to his visitor and speaking again. "I'm glad you came. I've kinda been wanting to talk to you -- well, more to thank you really."

Draco flushed; he couldn't help himself. There was something about the sheer intensity of Harry's eyes that was both mesmerising and intoxicating. Harry wasn't speaking to his face. He was almost looking into Draco's soul and he was doing so without realising it.

"I mean, I know we don't see eye to eye on politics and we have spent the last five and a half years practically hating each other and well..." He faltered slightly as though forgetting his point. "You just didn't have to, that's all and I appreciate that you did."

Although the blond merely shrugged off the gratitude, inside he was on fire. I should apologise, not him! his annoying conscience piped up. I've been such a bastard to him and his friends but...well, he's not anything like the git I thought he was.

Draco realised that he must have been staring when Harry laughed softly.

"What? Not 'The Boy Who Lived' enough for you? Would you rather I said 'It's a good job you saved me because I couldn't do it with the hassle, to be honest. It's not like I was in danger but you sped things up and now I won't fall behind in my schedule of dates, photo-shoots and bad-guy slaying'?"

Draco smirked. Harry's grin was infectious and he had just summed up precisely what Draco had expected him to say. It should have been unnerving that Potter had a better understanding of Draco than Draco did him -- but instead, Draco merely found it funny that his pompous self had made more of an imprint on Harry than he realised.

"No...it's just that..." Oh really coherent Draco, he chided himself in a voice that always seemed to resemble that of his Father. Such scintillating conversation skills and lying abilities you are showing.

"You're just not the person I thought you were."

Harry flashed Draco a disarming smile. "You're exactly who I thought you were, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. You've finally got over yourself a bit since first year, and you aren't half as snarky as you'd like to think."

The fact that Harry Potter, of all people, had noticed what even his fellow Slytherins had not, allowed Draco to leave the hospital wing -- on Madam Pomfrey's insistence --happier than he had been in a while. As he swept towards the door, he heard the Medi-Witch fussing.

"Come on now, Mr. Potter, take these please. Stop right there with that 'I'm fine' nonsense. If I remember rightly you were fine after having your arm bitten by a Basilisk."

"But I was, Fawkes heal --"

At this point Harry was cut off as the formidable woman appeared to force feed Harry the potions.

That scene had Draco inwardly chuckling all the way down to the dungeons. Of course, he wouldn't laugh out loud. He may be a Malfoy having some kind of mid-teen sexuality crisis; a Malfoy with some apparent bond to Harry Potter 'The Boy Who Lived to be Saviour of the Fucking Wizarding World'; but he was a Malfoy nonetheless, and to do such a thing as laugh out loud would be most unseemly.

It wasn't until he glided towards his chair in the common room -- its third year occupant had hastily vacated it upon the sixth year's arrival -- Draco realised that neither he nor Potter had brought up the subject of the bond.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Snape hated Mondays. He loathed them with the intensity of a thousand suns, detested them more than words could eloquently express. He had to teach the sixth year Slytherin-Gryffindor Potions class every Monday morning and the argumentative, incompetent brats were enough to make even a stable person's blood boil.

It was for this reason he billowed into the chatter-filled room in a manner strongly resembling a hurricane. Before reaching his desk, various Gryffindors had already lost their house 17 points for heinous crimes against Snape's headache, such as giggling. Death glare firmly in place, he waved his wand and the instructions appeared on the board. Students stumbled into action and he fell back onto his chair and sat, hawk-eyed and massaging his temples.

It wasn't long before he realised that a certain godson of his, a Mr. Draco Malfoy to be specific, had not even risen from his seat to collect his ingredients. Instead the blond sat brooding, his eyes practically burning a hole into an empty chair on the opposite side of the classroom. An empty chair usually occupied by that annoying Gryffindor brat, that swaggering, bespectacled excuse for a world saviour.

Severus did a double take before sneering in disgust and taking a large gulp from an anti-daydreaming draft. He closed his eyes tightly as the cool liquid caused waves of icy reality to course through his body. When he finally opened them, Draco had not moved a muscle. Why, in sweet Morrigan's name, that accursed child was staring at Potter's chair was completely beyond the Potions Master. He didn't even know where Potter was, come to think of it. Something was sorely wrong and Severus didn't like it at all.

He lifted himself from his chair, vanished into the store room and returned some minutes later, pointedly plonking the needed ingredients into Draco's lap. The boy blinked dazedly and began to follow the instructions on the board mechanically, his eyes flickering over Potter's chair at regular intervals.

To add to Snape's bad mood, the Gryffindors were spending much longer than necessary selecting their bicorn horns. They were not usually so attentive or so quiet. Snape was puzzled. He could swear he could see their lips moving, but it was almost as if...

"50 points from Gryffindor for casting a Silencing Charm in my class!" Snape all but roared as he shattered the spell with a slashing arm movement. "Would you care to tell me just what was so important that you couldn't wait until the end of class to discuss it?"

The offending students hung their heads in silent solidarity. Snape was visibly restraining himself from committing mass-murder when through the door walked a still-pale Harry Potter.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, rushing over and trapping him in a hug. "We were so worried when you didn't arrive for this lesson!"

Harry hushed her with a kiss on the forehead. "I'm fine; you know how fussy Madam Pomfrey can be."

It looked like Hermione had something else to say but her boyfriend pulled her back to their seats, rolling his eyes at Harry in the best friend's usual 'Only Hermione' way.

Snape was gazing heavenward, his lips forming the numbers one through ten. He reached ten and felt no calmer and so, instead, he exploded. The Slytherins rolled around with laughter as Snape chastised all the Gryffindors, cursed their ancestors and saying point blank that he would make school-life a living hell for any of their future offspring.

The only Slytherin who didn't look amused was Draco. He seemed to be trying to catch Harry's eye and upon finally succeeding, he mouthed the words "You okay?"

Snape paused mid-rant to take another swig from his anti-daydreaming draft. Harry nodded but at Draco's sceptically raised eyebrow, the raven haired boy shrugged and responded instead, "I'll live."

Draco nodded once before saying, "Don't forget about tonight," and returning to his potion. At this point, Snape downed the entire contents of the potion flask and yelled at the Gryffindors a lot more.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione didn't get Outstanding in all of her classes -- of which she was taking twice as many as the average student -- without good reason. She knew that Dumbledore hadn't told them everything that night when they had found Harry cradled in Draco's arms, having just been saved from death...again. She had kept the Marauder's Map after finding Harry and she had been consulting it regularly over the weekend. She had seen Draco and the Headmaster having a talk inside Dumbledore's office. She also knew that, after this, the two men had gone up to the hospital wing and had sat at Harry's bedside.

When Dumbledore had left the two teenagers alone, Hermione's eyebrows receded into her bushy fringe due to a shock that had only increased when the two boys didn't appear to fight. To make matters worse, Dumbledore could be found in his office at most other times of the weekend, pacing back and forth in a manner that could only signal deep contemplation.

As soon as lessons finished for the morning, Hermione ran to the Great Hall and grabbed a sandwich before excusing herself and heading towards the library. When in doubt, check a book (the older and dustier, the better). According to Ron, this was Hermione's motto and, for once, he wasn't far from the truth.

Hermione darted between bookshelves, gathering together all available books on magical links to investigate Harry's link to Voldemort for the umpteenth time, as well as books on healing to try to find out how Draco had managed to save Harry.

Settling in her seat in a deserted corner of the room, she expertly cast a single magic circle around herself. From experience, Hermione had found that for her, the amount of time spent in ritual circles was always thrice the real time that had passed. So, although she would never cast a circle three times round except for rituals, a single circle would give her an extra hour and a half to read. She looked sceptically at the pile of books. Three hours wasn't going to be enough, but it would have to do.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As soon as the vast majority of the students were seated for dinner, Severus Snape whirled up to the Headmaster's office. He didn't know the password, but one well-aimed look at the gargoyle was enough to make it gulp in submission and hastily reveal the doorway. He stomped up the stairs like a teenager in a strop, hurled the door open and stood there breathing heavily and looking almost demonic.

Albus Dumbledore was standing at his desk, pouring two cups of tea. "Ah Severus, my boy! I thought I'd be seeing you today. You look, uh, somewhat vexed?"

Severus stalked into the room, slamming the door behind him. "Vexed? VEXED? Is that all you can say, you doddering old git!? What have you done to my godson? What's up with fucking Potter now? What are you up to? Oh, don't give me that innocent look Albus; you and I both know that something is going on. I might not be able to place it, but you have twice the IQ of everyone else in this castle accumulated, so I'm sure you've worked it out. That is to say, if you aren't the sole cause of it, which I find highly unlikely."

The tall man seemed to run out of steam. He collapsed into the chair Dumbledore was gesturing to and accepted his cup of tea. For Severus, this was all time low. The fact that he had conceded defeat before hurling several of the old man's possessions was unheard of and, by sitting down, that was exactly what he had done.

Dumbledore perched on his own chair, smiling serenely in a way that he must have known would irritate Snape more. It felt to Snape like he was doing this all deliberately, just to test how stressed the Potion master was. Snape was not paranoid. Everyone really was out to break his defences; or at least that's how he perceived it.

"Tell me, my boy," Dumbledore began, "what do you know of Percuro Adfinis Rerum Natura?"

*~*~*~*~*~*

Hermione had been reading for almost two hours. She had given up on the Healing texts for the time being as most of them were written in a very scientific manner, and were in Latin to boot. Her translation skills were unmatched by anyone in her year, but her knowledge of post-NEWT level Medi-science was, well, limited.

She was now engrossed in one of the books featuring information on bonds -- but she had long since been distracted from the topic of Harry's scar. 'Percuro Adfinis Rerum Natura,' the book read, 'are ancient forms of magical being. Although not magical creatures, these beings are not Witches or Wizards, or even human. They are an ancient race; each duo a pair of soul mates."

Hermione was enthralled. The idea seemed so romantic to her, and she was inwardly amazed that she had never heard of them. She continued to read, entranced.

'In the past millennia, there have been only a handful of cases of Elemental Healers. These Healers are not even true Percuro Adfinis Rerum Natura; they are merely Witches or Wizards who were born with the skill. They are, however, all that remains of this race and are still forces to be reckoned with. Phenomenally powerful warriors and healers, one of these beings can sense magic, the other channel this sight.'

It was lucky that her magic circle could sense Hermione's distraction, or the young woman would have never made it to her classes that afternoon. She hurried over to Madam Pince's desk and checked out the book. It weighed heavily on her mind all afternoon and, perhaps for the first time in her life, she couldn't wait for classes to be over.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The iridescent glow above the chair at the front of the room was that of Professor Binns. His monotonous drone was occasionally interrupted by a particularly loud snore but the ghost didn't appear to notice. Sitting at the back of the class, Harry's mind was slowly turning to the topic of the bond. He hadn't dwelt on it before; he had had too much doubt for that. But now that he found himself staring at a certain blond boy, he realised that something really was going on.

Did he fancy Draco? Well yes, if he was honest. What wasn't there to like? Silken blond locks hanging styled just past shoulder length, icy-grey eyes, an elfin physique -- lithe and willowy. If it wasn't for the fact that Draco Malfoy was indeed Draco Malfoy, Harry would have been attracted to him for a very long time.

So was this attraction the reason Harry was always aware of the Slytherin? He didn't think so. It was more of a natural pull toward the boy. He couldn't describe how this was different from attraction, it just was. Could he imagine himself and Malfoy as soul mates and Elemental Healers? No, came his original conclusion but when the realisation struck him that he was now staring into stormy eyes rather than at a turned head, Harry felt that pull inside of him and all of a sudden, he wasn't so sure.

Snapped into reality by the scraping of chairs that signalled the lesson's end -- and by the tugging on his sleeve by Hermione -- Harry stood up shakily. Hermione began chatting to him happily. She was ignoring Ron who had obviously fallen asleep again, much to his girlfriend's distaste.

Harry wasn't listening; he simply nodded and shook his head at random moments, hoping to cast an illusion of attentiveness. He was no longer looking at Draco, but he was somehow aware of him leaving the room. A confused rush of emotions and adrenaline swept through Harry. He became light-headed and yet, at the same time, it felt like his head had been caught in a vice. He felt Pansy Parkinson's hand sweep the hair from his eyes in a concerned manner, but Pansy wasn't even in the room. Thoughts and images wandered into his mind but they were not his own. He could feel Draco's emotional state parallel his and this only magnified his own feelings.

The room had emptied; Professor Binns had glided from the room and Hermione had abandoned her chat with Harry to go and bicker with Ron. Harry was alone, yet he felt surrounded.

He sank to his knees holding the side of his desk, white-knuckled and shaking. Suddenly, like a kick in the mind, Draco stumbled into the room, magically locking the door behind him. Harry felt the magic pulsate from Draco and surround the door in a tingling grip. He swayed, almost passing out. Draco hurried forward, lifting Harry to his feet by the front of his robes and slamming him backward against the desk.

Everything became clear to both boys. An impulse swept over them and suddenly Draco's porcelain face lowered over Harry's. Soft breath brought a shudder to Harry's body, petal-soft lips invoked a gasp; a tongue urged forward by something so strong that Draco couldn't resist it caused a blush. With but a moment's hesitation to savour the touch, Harry responded hungrily, desperately, urgently. A frantic dance of tongues, of tastes and of touches and the world was lost in a cloud of golden light.