White Horses

Jackie Stevens

Story Summary:
[COMPLETE] They say that there are no white horses - those that we think of as white are really just a faded and deceiving grey. Names can be misleading, and definitions can be false, and yet through the maze of artifice and deceit, we might just find something true. When Harry returns for his last two years at Hogwarts School, he will find that boundaries are shifting and not everyone is who he thought - including himself. He will have to learn that change is like those elusive white horses: swift, beautiful and irretrievable.

Chapter 23

Chapter Summary:
They say that there are no white horses - those that we think of as white are really just a faded and deceiving grey. Names can be misleading and definitions can be false, and yet through the maze of artifice and deceit, we might just find something true. When Harry returns for his last two years at Hogwarts School, he will find that boundaries are shifting and not everyone is who he thought - including himself. He will have to learn that change is like those elusive white horses: swift, beautiful and irretrievable.
Posted:
11/09/2004
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5,510

AS IT TURNED OUT, HARRY didn't get to see Draco at the Welcoming Feast after all.

Well, no, that's not quite true.

He saw plenty of the boy, from a distance. But Draco was ensconced in the Slytherin end of the room and he looked, to Harry's eyes, to be a bit displeased with that fact. Probably just wishful thinking, Harry bitterly thought to himself as he tried to act interested in the Sorting ceremony.

There were nearly twice as many new students this year as was usual. Many were twelve year-olds who hadn't come to Hogwarts last year, thanks to the war. Dumbledore had made a concession to them in his welcoming speech; he'd allowed that, if they were far enough along with their studies, they could join the second years - or they were welcome to enter as first years.

Harry wanted to appear interested and like he was supporting the younger students, he really did; yet his eyes kept sliding over to a familiar sleek head, which was covered with silver-white hair that Harry wanted to bury his hands in.

As if he could feel Harry's gaze on him (and perhaps he could, considering the fierceness of that look), Draco looked up and across to the Gryffindor table and his eyes were filled with a similar hunger. They stared at each other from the opposite ends of the room and Harry was beginning to wonder just how people would react if he were to walk up to the Slytherin table, when Neville nudged him excitedly. "Look, Harry! There's my cousin, Melinda! See her?"

Harry wanted to snarl at the boy unreasonably, and it took him a moment to remember himself and feign interest in the podgy little girl. All the while, he fancied he could feel those silver eyes on him, as impossible to ignore as their owner.



DINNER HAD FINISHED FAR TOO slowly for Harry and even then Draco had had to lead the new Slytherins down to the dungeons. This was precisely where Harry was standing, with a stack of books in his arms. He had read the password to Slytherin's common room in Draco's letter, but he didn't remember it (which was probably just as well, since it wouldn't do for people to know that the Head Boy was running around and giving out passwords). He had tried every likely word or phrase he could think of, before he broke into a frustrated hiss.

Speaking in Parseltongue, that bizarre language that he rarely ever used, he burst out, "For Salazar's sake! I'm a parselmouth; doesn't that make me Slytherin enough to open the bloody door?!"

There was no response from the wall that was busily pretending that it wasn't a door, but down the hall he heard an answering hiss, "Who's out there?"

Harry jumped in surprise, since he was supposed to be the only Parselmouth at Hogwarts. Peering down the dark corridor, he called back uncertainly, "Hello?"

And again that strange voice replied, hissing sarcastically (which Harry hadn't even known was possible), "Follow the dulcet tones of my voice, dear visitor. That's it, you're getting closer..."

In an alcove that Harry had never before noticed was a portrait of a young man with thick black hair and calculating grey eyes. His face was rather thin and sharp, and he was looking at Harry like the boy was strapped to a time-bomb: a stare that was mixed with pity but mostly a perverse refusal to look away from the inevitable carnage. The Gryffindor exclaimed in surprise, "Salazar Slytherin!"

The harsh-looking young man raised his painted eyebrows and continued in Parseltongue, "But you are no Slytherin."

Harry glanced down at the red and gold patch emblazoned on his robes and then replied equivocally, "True, but I've been told that I'm as much a Slytherin as a Gryffindor."

The grey eyes looked at him as if they could see more than just his physical person. Slytherin said approvingly, "Perhaps even more a Slytherin, because you hide it so well. You have many secrets for one of Godric's students. Including your involvement with the current Head Boy."

Even though they were speaking in a language that no one else could possibly understand, Harry jumped. "How do you know that?"

The portrait shrugged slyly and explained, "I can see anyone's secrets. But I can only speak in Parseltongue, so it is mostly a useless boon. My painter, it seems, had a sense of humour."

Harry asked bluntly, before thinking of how rude it might sound, "Why are you down here in the middle of nowhere?"

Those thin lips smiled temptingly and the man in the picture leaned nonchalantly against his gilt frame. "You are not the only one to conceal secrets, you snake in a lion's hide."

Harry asked in surprise, "You're hiding something as well? Not... a secret passage?" The smirk grew and the Gryffindor exclaimed, "You are! Is there some password to get past you?"

The grey eyes regarded him disdainfully in a slightly familiar expression. "Nothing so passé as that. Everyone could come traipsing in if that were the case.

"I will only open of my own will, and only someone I decide to. Any idiot or Hufflepuff can repeat a password, that doesn't mean I want them traipsing around in my house's common room."

When Harry asked eagerly, to clarify, "A passage to the Slytherin common room? That's what you're guarding?" the portrait winked at him, and swung open to reveal a rough hewn stone path. It was more like a natural crevice than a corridor of any type.

Harry stared in surprise as the picture of Salazar hissed in parting, "But don't think you'll be making a habit of this." The ducked into the stone tunnel and thought, Maybe Slytherin wasn't half so evil as everyone says.

Draco, meanwhile, was addressing the new additions to Slytherin house. He gave them a similar speech to the one he had received as a first year, making it clear the way things ran at Hogwarts, "You'll have to watch yourselves around the Gryffindors. The teachers all favour them (except for Snape, of course) so be prepared to make everything appear as their fault. They are gullible and quick to anger, so it is normally easy to make them lose control and even implicate themselves."

An unexpected voice broke in, "Malfoy, just what are you teaching these poor, impressionable kids?"

Standing shockingly in the back of the room was Harry Potter, the greatest Gryffindor of them all. Draco couldn't quite hide his grin as he said disbelievingly, "What in Salazar's name are you doing here, Potter?"

For some reason, his question seemed to amuse the black-haired boy, who lifted up the books he held. "Just bringing you your books, oh, mighty Head Boy, since you made me lug them around." He walked easily over to blonde, as if everyone in the room weren't staring at him horror, and rebuked his boyfriend, "What's this that you're propagandizing against us poor Gryffindors now?"

Draco was still slightly smirking as he said, "Nothing that isn't true. Just warning them how blatant rule-breaking is ignored in Gryffindors; for example, sneaking into another house's common room."

The Gryffindor gave a mysterious smile and said humbly, "Well, they have to overlook it, because we aren't so cunning and smooth as Slytherins. A Slytherin would never get caught breaking the rules. Or not without a handy Gryffindork to blame, is that it?"

The Head Boy frowned slightly and agreed, "Well, it's certainly true that Gryffindors are generally hopeless when compared to the Slytherins. And yet... I don't know how you got into our common room, when you have no right to be here."

Harry seemed to realize from the almost chilly tone that he might be damaging Draco's image in front of the other students by being here. He set the books on a cold marble-topped table, and turned partly away from the room. Speaking only loud enough for Malfoy to hear, he apologized, "Je m'excuse, je ne croiyais pas que je faisais quel que chose de mal."

But Draco shook his head in denial when Harry worried that he had done something wrong. "Pas de problème," he reassured him, "Qu'est-ce qu'il ya?"

The Gryffindor grimaced and said quickly, still speaking in undertones, "Ceci est tres different - je ne suis pas habitue a cela. Puis-je etre ici?" This is all so strange - I'm just not used to it. Can I even be here?

Draco didn't really look upset, but he said briefly, "Non. On puet se retrover devant notre chambre, j'arrival plus tard. Okay?"

Harry nodded, agreeing to meet the Slytherin in their old room later, and the blonde's smirk spread again. He sounded satisfied when he growled, "Good, then get the hell out of here, Potter."

Although he gave the blonde a barely tolerating look, he said, "Ja t'attends." He left through the front entrance (no good to let them know about the secret way) and Draco knew that the boy would wait for him as promised. He turned back to the newest Slytherins with a fierce smile, ready to repair the damage of Harry's visit.



IT WAS OVER AN HOUR later when Draco finally got down to the other end of the dungeons. He saw a slender figure down that familiar stretch of halls, and hurried down to meet his boyfriend. "Were you waiting this whole time?" he asked, as he gave the boy a quick kiss in greeting.

Harry smiled easily as he told him, "It was no problem. I had plenty to think about." Draco raised his light eyebrows at this statement and led the way into his old room, feeling odd about the familiarity of the gesture. Had it really been eight months?

He walked into the room and then stopped, looking around mutely. Everything was just as he had left it on Christmas morning; when the boy next to him had been asleep in the bed and he had wondered if he would ever be back again. All of his things were just where he had last seen them, even the note he remembered writing for Harry was still propped on the window seat. Draco walked over and picked up that folded piece of parchment, rereading his own neat script, "'See you soon'..."

Harry plucked the paper out of his long fingers, smoothing it with his own hand. He admitted softly, "I almost took this note with me, but I wanted to leave everything just the way it was. I didn't want anything to change - as if it might break some spell. I guess I just had to believe that you'd come back."

Draco was staring at him with eyes gone silver, "But I didn't."

Now, finally, Harry slipped the note into his pocket and he corrected the Slytherin, "Yes, you did. And here we are again."

Draco seemed to be having difficulty swallowing and he couldn't explain that thick feeling in his throat. He laced an arm around Harry's shoulders, breathing shakily into the comforting scent of Harry's black hair. "I'm... Harry, I've never regretted anything so much as leaving that morning..." he whispered almost inaudibly as he held onto the boy. The Gryffindor relaxed into his side and Draco wondered about this futile regret. Why did he feel like he was never getting anywhere with the boy? They seemed to be running through the same circles, hurting each other and then reopening the old wounds, again and again.

As if he could hear the bitter thoughts, Harry turned into the boy's embrace. Wrapping his arms around the thin blonde, he buried his face in the still-taller boy's shoulder. His hands dug into the slender back and as he felt the cool cotton that Draco had transfigured slide between his fingers, a quick surge of desire ran through him. Harry pulled away, feeling a bit shaky and flushed. Laughing nervously, the Gryffindor asked "So are you going to want all this in your new room, Head Boy?" He took a step away, turning from Draco as he looked around the room.

Respecting the unspoken plea for distance, the blonde walked around the room. He said absently, "I suppose I'll need all my clothes and school things back with me." He dropped to his knees beside his large trunk, swatting at the dust. He flipped open the top and looked back into his old life. Draco sat unmoving for a moment, staring silently at all the old things that had once seemed so important.

Across the room, Harry had pulled open the wardrobe's doors. He asked Draco, "Do you want all this with you?" Draco nodded quietly and the Gryffindor began to carry armfuls of clothes over to be folded into the trunk. Draco got up and helped him, and they made a quick job of it together. After the wardrobe was empty, Harry looked around the room in a measuring manner.

The blonde came up behind him and wrapped his arms around the boy, asking him, "Can we leave the rest of it? I have a lot of good memories in this room."

Harry's eyes fell shut as the memories of Christmas Eve swamped through him. He had been haunted by that night for a long time after Draco's 'death,' but being back here again brought every touch and every moment back in vivid detail. He stepped away and said, "You need to at least remember your medication." Nodding shortly at the reminder, the Slytherin pulled the drawer in his night stand to get his pills. The truth was that he had been a bit worried not to have them with him over the summer - it was no small miracle that he hadn't had any attacks with all the anxiety that had been flooding him. But when he looked into that shallow drawer, he saw on the top of the jumbled mess the lubricant from that long ago night.

His eyes flicked back to the Gryffindor, who was burning red spots endearingly on his high cheekbones. Letting the lube fall back into the drawer, he straightened to take Harry's face in his hands. He smirked as he teased the boy, "You are such a Gryffindor." He caught Harry's lips in a sweet kiss and then chided him, "You don't need to be embarrassed because of that night, Harry. What we did was natural and wonderful, but if you don't want, then we won't do anything."

The boy pulled his glasses off and let them dangle from his right hand, as he raised his other to cradle Draco's face. "I hope that's not a promise," he said huskily as he pulled the blonde in for a kiss.

Draco's voice was earnest and he said quickly, "Gods, no, it's not."

He kissed his boyfriend with a desperate urgency. The Slytherin picked up the slighter boy, who gasped in surprise, and they tumbled onto the bed. They had been sleeping together all summer, but that had been as platonic as humanly possible for two teenage boys - merely the comfort of having someone to hold you and to hold onto. This was something else entirely.

Passion flared to life between the two, the same chemistry that had brought them together in the first place. Before they lost too many vital pieces of clothes though, Harry broke out laughingly, "Malfoy, I really do want to do it again, but not tonight, not like this."

He could feel the boy's nod, though Draco didn't make any move to release him. They held onto each other tightly as they lay on the soft mattress, until Draco admitted in a sort of shame-faced reluctance, "I don't want to have to sleep without you. I don't want to go back to my room alone."

The other boy didn't say anything as he stared up at the ceiling with wide green eyes. What could he say? He felt the same way. He didn't want to be the responsible one, but he felt like he had to say it: "Draco, you know that things are going to be different now. Not just different from the summer, but different from last year. You're the Head Boy. And you're back with your house. You're going to have more obligations now and more demands on your time." The blonde rolled partially off of him and his grey eyes were distant.

"So what does that mean? That I never get to see you? Because I'm bloody Head Boy?"

Harry almost winced as he reminded Draco, "Look at what already happened today. It's bad enough when other people know we're friends - let alone boyfriends. If you spend all your time with me, or Ginny and the others, how is it going to help your standing in your house?" The Slytherin didn't want to agree but he knew his boyfriend was right. Fucking Hogwarts.

Harry pulled the resisting boy back into his arms, offering, "How about this? One night a week, say Fridays, we can all eat dinner together like we used to. You, me and Gin - even Luna or Ron and Hermione, if they want to join us. Any of your Slytherins as well. And you and I can come back here, and I'll teach you sixth form like I promised. Then... then we can stay the night together." Draco wanted to protest, wanted to complain that Friday was still four nights away, and that getting to see Harry once a week wasn't nearly enough. But he knew it would have to be enough.

"All right, Potter. Here's your new vocabulary for the week, then. To kiss: embrasser. Harry, je peus t'embrasser?"

And people wondered how Harry had learned so quickly - he had a very effective teacher.

He said back, "Embrasse-moi," before translating in his own tongue, "Kiss me, you fool Slytherin." Draco Malfoy didn't normally take orders very well, but he never minded this command. Then Harry shocked him by murmuring, "Je te veux."

It was a basic enough construction, a very simple sentence, but Draco was still surprised to hear it from the boy he had taught. He replied honestly, "And I want you, Harry. All the time." He devoured the Gryffindor in a kiss, burying his hands fully in the black silk of the boy's hair. They tore at their remaining clothes and Harry's earlier insistence that they not do anything that night was easily forgotten.

Draco kneeled over the boy to slide off the Gryffindor's pants, the last barrier between them. Harry lifted his hips obligingly, and then they were both bare again. The blonde stopped to stare down at his lover and the boy, noticing his pause, immediately raised green eyes filled with anxiety. "What is it, what's wrong?" Oh god, there must be something wrong with me. I'm ugly or I don't look right or...

"My god, Harry. You are so amazing." When he heard that awed whisper, Harry could do nothing but gape soundlessly at the boy above him. Draco ran his graceful fingers along Harry's body in an almost reverential caress and the black-haired boy trembled under that tender touch. Draco lowered himself onto the shorter boy, whispering urgently into his ear, "I don't know why you want me, but don't stop."

Harry was thinking the same thing and all he could do was promise weakly, "I won't."

As if the Gryffindor hadn't said anything, Draco repeated, "Please, don't stop."

They kissed frantically, no long foreplay for two lovers who hadn't been together for eight months. Harry summoned the lubricant from where it had been left in the open drawer and squeezed a large dollop onto his hand, before tossing it away. He could distantly hear the clatter as it hit the stone floor, but it didn't enter his mind because he was too enthralled with the feeling of Draco's throbbing erection between his slick hands.

The Slytherin shuddered delightfully and Harry almost brought him off right there. But then Draco entwined his long fingers with Harry's, trying to coat his fingers with the cool slickness that would get them both what they wanted. He kissed Harry softly and it was a delicious contrast to the invasion of the fingers that he slid inside the boy. In the sudden swamp of intense feelings, Harry's hands tightened convulsively around Draco's most sensitive parts. "Fuck, Potter. You are going to have to let that go or we are both going to lose it."

Harry wanted to say, "Who cares?" but he wanted to feel Draco inside of him again, needed to feel the other boy as a part of him. He let go reluctantly and then spread his legs, inviting Draco to come to him. It didn't take any more than that. The Slytherin reclaimed his mouth as he adjusted the other boy's body, propping one knee up to leave him more open. Then he pulled back slightly so that he could ease himself into the tight heat of Harry's body.

His silver eyes flicked upward and he saw that Harry had thrown his head back, his face contorted in that exquisite pain. Draco continued to push his way slowly into the beautiful boy who was amazingly his, one hand holding Harry's bent knee up and the other pressed flat against the straining muscles of the boy's stomach. Seeing the corded tension in Harry's neck, he suddenly thrust the rest of the way into that willing body, unintentionally nudging Harry's prostrate as he did so.

Harry screamed and Draco watched in amazement as the black-haired boy writhed beneath him, his hands scrabbling uselessly at the silk coverlet. Realizing what he had done, Draco withdrew partly and then was careful to hit that same spot again. The boy convulsing around him was going wild, sobbing Draco's name as he scratched the Slytherin in his wild abandon. Giving into the fierce sensation, Draco pumped into his lover's tight body, feeling the star-hot orgasm burning in him until they both exploded, screaming, like supernovae.

They lay in a sweaty tangle for at least five minutes before either could or would move. Harry felt Draco's heart beating strongly against his chest, only occasionally skipping a beat or racing to catch up. He could feel the boy growing smaller, still within him, as the tingling aftershocks of that orgasm coursed through him. Feeling him begin to stir, Draco gathered the boy tightly to him and rolled them over, still inside the Gryffindor and not willing to loose that closeness yet.

He settled the boy so that Harry was nestled on his chest, his legs weakly straddling the lover still held him impaled. And Draco could feel the tremors that were shaking the boy, as if he were crying. He was instantly contrite, asking unsurely, "Oh gods, Harry, are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

That black head shook in denial and Draco was left at a loss until Harry laughed desperately, "Hell, no. That was amazing... but it isn't enough; I don't to want to go. I don't want to have to go."

Harry wouldn't say aloud what he was thinking, since he knew that Draco must be thinking the same things: I don't want to be back here. I want to be back at that cabin. I don't want to be here with all the memories and complications.

Draco begged him softly, "It's never enough between us, Harry. So don't go. Stay with me, please."

He heard the Gryffindor begin to protest, "You can't stay here. You're the Head Boy, your Slytherins-"

He cut the boy off though, insisting quickly, "Forget the Slytherins. Come back with me to my room, then. We have the invisibility cloak - please, say you'll stay the night with me."

Even though it was surely irresponsible and reckless, Harry agreed. (Wasn't that just like a Gryffindor though?) But then he quickly pulled himself off his lover, trying not to gasp at the feeling of Draco sliding slickly out of his body again. He crawled over the bed, collecting their clothes as he said, "But you have to at least make an appearance with your house; assure them that they're all welcome-" The Gryffindor broke off suddenly.

Seeing the boy stretched across the bed reaching for their clothes had been too much for Draco. He caressed that bare bottom, sliding a long finger back inside the boy. Crooking his finger, he brushed that tender spot and almost instantaneously the Gryffindor was up on that brink again. The boy swore and tried to hold himself still, as though he were trying to escape the notice of some predator. Draco reached beneath the boy to find his half-formed erection pressed against the bed. What had started as teasing was suddenly very serious and Draco was shocked that he wanted the boy again so soon.

"Harry..." His exhalation was questioning, as he let his own erection rub against the prone boy's tender opening. His lover nodded slightly, giving him permission, and Draco shafted himself in that slick tunnel again. He was stroking Harry as he drove himself into the boy, his other hand pressed against the Gryffindor's pelvic bone as he tried to pull him even closer. He had never penetrated Harry from behind and it was yet another intoxicating new sensation - they were both gone in minutes.

They lay in shocked afterglow once more, this time with Draco wrapped around the boy from behind. Draco could hear the Gryffindor's slightly muffled voice even as it vibrated through both their bodies, "Not that I'm complaining, but at this rate we are never going to even make it off the bed."

Draco quickly pulled himself free of that relaxed body, feeling embarrassed by his lack of control. He collected their clothes again and said in a blank voice, "You're right. I'm sorry, I don't know why I was so desperate."

Hearing that tone from Draco, the Gryffindor turned slightly to give him a sloe-eyed look. "Draco," he started softly, but the boy was pulling his pants back on and avoiding his eyes. Harry caught him by the front of his fine slacks, his knuckles brushing that taught golden stomach. "Malfoy!" he said, more sharply and the blonde finally looked at him, devouring the sight of the Gryffindor sprawled nude and comfortable on his bed. Harry pulled the boy back down to him by tugging on the pants insistently.

"Do you know how much I love being able to get past your masks or break your iron control, Draco Malfoy? Don't you ever apologize for daring to be yourself around me." He kissed the blonde, smoothing away his shame and consternation. Harry broke their contact to stare up at that beloved face, with its curtain of white hair tickling him where it brushed his own face, and he punched the boy in the stomach. Draco grunted and Harry laughed, "Now let me get dressed, before you're tempted to ravish me again, you wanton."

Draco didn't know what it was - perhaps the comfort of physical touch, or simply the closeness they achieved together? - but Harry seemed more confident after they had been together. Whereas before he had been afraid of censure when Draco had seen him naked, now he was strolling around nude without a single inhibition. The Slytherin liked it; Harry was too often acting wary and untrusting of the world around him, fearful of rejection from everyone and everything. Draco was glad that he somehow gave the boy this confidence.

Harry did eventually put his clothes back on, and then they had to dig through the trunk to find the invisibility cloak. Harry slipped the tube of lubricant into his back packet and Draco tried famously to ignore the gesture. He pulled out the replacement wand that he had insisted they get at Ollivander's. Harry had gotten one as well, before they had gone to King's Cross - though Ollivander had nearly shit a green brick when he found out that Harry had 'let' his wand be snapped. As if there had been much he could do to prevent it.

Both the boys had increased exponentially in their use of wandless magic, thanks to the competitiveness that was inherent in their relationship. They could do things without a wand that no other person alive probably could. And that was precisely why Draco had insisted that they get new wands. If people knew what the couple was capable of they would be shocked and, more than that, they would become suspicious. Given long enough, people will always be become suspicious when you have powers that they don't understand - especially if you're name happens to be 'Malfoy.'

So Draco used his wand to perform the shrinking spell on his trunk, ignoring Harry's slightly scornful look. He tucked the tiny trunk into his pocket and looked over at his boyfriend, who had swung the cloak around him so that only his head was showing. He frowned, "You know, you look just like you did when you threw mud at me outside the Shrieking Shack?"

Harry grinned and pulled the cloak over his head, his gloating voice coming from the empty air, "I know."

The Head Boy had to concentrate, but he could feel the slight vibrations of Harry's magic. He grabbed the invisible boy and Harry shrieked in surprise. "How did you find me?" he asked in shock, as Draco tugged the cloak off his head.

He kissed the black-haired boy quickly, before answering teasingly, "I ask myself that same question everyday."

He threw the cloak back over the black head and it took the boy a moment to realize what he'd said. Then he laughed delightedly and breezed past his lover, calling, "Let's go, Malfoy. Then we can get back to your room and find each again and again." Knowing he'd been beaten at his own game, Draco eagerly followed the invisible presence back through the dungeons.

When they came to the entrance to the Slytherin dorms, Draco was surprised to feel Harry tug him past the doorway. He heard the boy whisper to him, "You wanted to know how I got into the Slytherin common room?"

He nodded and was led to a small alcove that he had never really noticed before. It was just a small recess in the wall, with a full body portrait hanging in it. His eyes widened in shock and he gave a slight bow as he gasped, "Lord Slytherin!"

The man in the picture looked at him in a measuring way and then hissed something incomprehensible. Harry pulled off his cloak and answered in the same strange language.

"Back again, little Gryffindor?" the portrait asked, and then glanced back at Draco, "And you found your secret. I can see why you keep him to yourself."

Harry goggled at the sleek man in the picture, who smiled suggestively as he said, "Don't look so shocked. Did you really think Gryffindor and I were just 'good friends'?"

Draco watched in fascination as Harry held an apparently shocking conversation with his house's founder. It was easy to forget that Harry was a Parselmouth; it wasn't a skill that was often used. But even when he knew it, to see two people actually carrying on in the strange not-quite-language was something else entirely.

Harry was exclaiming, "You're joking!"

Salazar smiled silkily, "I am. But you are so like him: so gullible."

The Gryffindor asked rashly, "What happened between you two?"

The painted figure suddenly looked hunched and Harry was reminded that this image of Salazar was only in his early twenties, not much more than a boy himself. "I don't know," he admitted, "At the time that my portrait was completed, Gryffindor and I were still thick as thieves. I can't imagine what happened to cause the bitter split between our houses."

Changing the subject, the man glanced over at Draco, who had no idea what they were saying. "A Malfoy, is he? I've known many Malfoys, and they've all held many secrets. This Malfoy also holds a secret. Two huge secrets." He looked at Harry with a dangerous smile and said, "One of them involves you directly. Would you like to know it?"

Harry swallowed hard and asked timidly, "Only one involves me?"

The portrait stared at Draco thoughtfully and the Head Boy wondered about the shift in their tones. "Well, his other secret may affect your life as well, if you stay together. But only one secret really belongs to you. And yet he doesn't plan on ever telling you. I think I'll tell it to you."

Draco looked back into grey eyes like his own. He had thought he'd heard his family name in the man's speech, but he still didn't understand what was transpiring. Feeling guilty, Harry didn't stop the long-dead man from telling him, "He is helplessly in love with you, Harry Potter."

Draco heard his boyfriend's gasp and broke his eyes away from the ones in the portrait. Harry was staring at him in a hushed disbelief. He hissed even as he looked into Draco's uncomprehending face, eyes burning, "You're joking again."

The man looked almost gentle when he said, "I am not joking. So go and enjoy your love - it is a rare and dangerous gift." The portrait swung open but Harry didn't move. The blonde boy touched him lightly on the shoulder and was surprised when the Gryffindor almost flinched.

Before he could ask what had been said, Harry pulled his cloak back around him and asked shortly, "Your room?"

Feeling as though he had missed something vital, Draco explained quietly, "Last staircase in the right corner of the room. Follow it down, you'll find the Head Boy's room. The password is 'snapdragon.'"

He felt a quick brush of invisible lips and the boy whispered, "I'll be there." Then he was gone. Feeling tired and more than ready to retire to his room, Draco climbed through the portrait hole as well and headed into the common room to check on his house.



THE HEAD BOY GLANCED AT the watch on his wrist, as he rushed down the stairs. It was 9:30 in the evening, and he had spent nearly forty minutes with his Slytherins, leaving assurances that they were welcome to come to him at anytime. Now he pushed open the door to his room in relief, glad to be free of the intrigues and the needy young students. He was looking forward to spending a relaxed evening with his boyfriend, except that there was no sign of Harry in the unfamiliar new room. Draco felt an acute stab of panic - what if Harry had somehow ended up in someone else's room, or perhaps he had just gotten tired of waiting and left?

Striving for rationality, though, Draco noticed a depression on the black duvet of his new bed, as if someone were laid atop it. He reached out tentatively until his hand brushed a warm body and he heard a familiar little sigh. He gently pulled the Invisibility cloak off the sleeping boy and smiled to see Harry so completely knackered. It had been a long day and they had already exhausted each other in the dungeon room. He wondered briefly about waking Harry and making him change out of his day clothes, but he decided not to disturb the peaceful Gryffindor.

He pulled out his miniature trunk and let it expand before he dug through its deceptive depths. Finding a pair of silky pyjamas, the like of which he hadn't worn since he had last been at Hogwarts, he quickly changed and left his clothes on top of the trunk that he would unpack later. Easing onto the bed, he carefully pulled the duvet out from under Harry. The dark-haired boy grumbled and shifted in his sleep, but he didn't wake. Draco pulled the heavy cover over both of them and Harry turned instinctively into his side with a heavy exhalation. The Head Boy closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.



IT WASN'T EVEN TWENTY MINUTES later (actually it was nearly an hour and a half later, but it didn't seem like it to Draco) that he heard knocking on his door. Glaring blearily at his bedside clock, Draco crawled out from the warm covers with a groan, dislodging Harry from where the boy had been sprawled over him. He tripped over the bedclothes and stumbled to the door. Pulling it open, Draco found himself faced with an eleven year-old little boy. He struggled for a minute, then his half-way functioning brain gave him a name, "Blythe. What's the matter, kid?"

The boy slipped into the room, clutching at his own bony elbows, and Draco shot an alarmed look at the bed. It appeared to be empty. Thanking the gods for small miracles, he went and sat on the edge of that wide mattress, with its covers torn off and streaming onto the floor. The hunched little boy stood uncomfortably in front of him and said tentatively, "I'm not sure I should be here."

Draco pulled at his white hair and muttered, "It's eleven o'clock, I'm sure you shouldn't be here." Seeing the look of panic in the child, he amended, "Sorry, I don't wake well. Now what's the problem, and why shouldn't you be here?"

The boy looked down at his round little toes and admitted, "I'm not sure I should be in Slytherin. I never though I would be, 'cause... well, 'cause I'm a half-blood." Draco suddenly understood the boy's fear and he looked thoughtfully at the small figure, feeling rather old.

"That may cause some friction; you're right. Here in Slytherin, people take the question of blood very seriously. Nonetheless, if you were sorted into Slytherin then I'm sure you were worthy of the choice. And the competition and the drive to prove yourself in your house will help you to achieve more than you ever could have by simply pushing yourself. I think that you are up to the challenge." Blythe was looking thrilled to his wriggling toes to be praised by the cool, slightly scary Head Boy.

"Is that what happened to you?" Draco was surprised by the innocent question; the ignorant little sot must truly be low in the world if he didn't even know about the Malfoys.

He explained disdainfully (though that disdain was for himself and his own), "Hardly. The Malfoys were one of the purest families in the Wizarding world - though I'm all that's left of that proud lineage. I could have ruled Slytherin house by reputation alone in the days before the war, though I would have been a much lesser wizard if I had.

"Luckily for me, I had Potter."

The boy exclaimed in surprise, "Harry Potter?"

Draco nodded grimly, but there was a wry smile tugging at his lips and warmth in his voice, "Yes. Harry Potter. Because of the competition between us, I excelled at many things I wouldn't have bothered so much with otherwise: quidditch, wizardry, grades, even sheer bloody-mindedness."

Blythe was staring at his pseudo-idol when he asked guilelessly, "Everyone said that you and Harry Potter hated each other, but..."

Draco's smile grew. He gave a gallic shrug and filled in for the boy, "But we don't seem like hateful rivals? We aren't anymore - at least, not the hateful bit. We're still rivals from time to time. Mostly we're friends."

Smirking at the look on Blythe's narrow face, Draco laughed, "Yes, it is possible to be friends between houses, even for someone as illustrious as a Malfoy and Harry bloody Potter. Of course, not everyone is pleased about it, but Potter is the best friend that I have and so we don't much care what other people aren't pleased about." He got up and led the first year back to the door, saying, "So don't worry too much. The Slytherins won't burn you alive and there are always more friends to be made in the other houses."

Draco was glad to see the boy leave looking relieved. Not glad so much for his apparent relief, but just for the fact that he was leaving. As soon as the door was closed, he jumped back onto the bed, flinging himself across the wide mattress so that he could peer over the far edge at his boyfriend. "Hello, friend," he said happily and Harry pulled the Slytherin down to join him on the ground amid the pile of bedding.

He murmured happily, "Mmm. Hello, lover." into their enthusiastic kiss. It was a while before they made it back to the bed.



IT STILL FELT FAR TOO early when a sharp buzzing pierced the fragile bubble of Draco's sleep. He felt a familiar weight reach across him and heard Harry curse as he fumbled with the alarm. The awful noise stopped and his boyfriend was still draped over him as Draco mumbled, "Fuck you, Potter. It's too early." He felt a snort of laughter shake the chest laying atop his. A soft pair of lips were pressed to the corner of his mouth and he ducked his head naturally to catch the kiss, before saying forcefully, "No. I don't care how enticing you think you are: later."

That slight weight on top of him was removed as Harry tried to shift to the edge of the edge of the bed. Draco protested and pulled the warm boy back to him. "Where are you going?" His voice was still muffled with sleep and Harry only understood it from experience.

"You are such a perverse bastard, Malfoy. And I am going back to my dorm before, hopefully, anyone else is up to notice."

This statement was enough to force Draco to open his eyes and realize that they were not at all in their bedroom in the cabin, but back in Hogwarts. He glared at Harry through straight black lashes, as if this were the boy's fault. "Fuck me, this is a dream, right? No? Fuck." Harry smiled at his eloquent boyfriend before pulling away to put all his clothes from yesterday back on. Draco at least sat up, but just watched the Gryffindor miserably.

Four more days. And three more nights. That's nothing compared to six months, right? But he wasn't even trying to hide his displeasure at the situation and Harry, cloak in hand, came to sit next to him on the bed. Without a word, Harry wrapped his arms around his sulky, Head Boy boyfriend. They held onto each other tightly and the Gryffindor was saying, "It'll be fine. We'll see each other in classes - so you need to just pull yourself together and get ready to face the Slytherins."

Unwilling to show any weakness, Draco bristled just as the other boy had known he would. He pushed Harry and insisted stubbornly, "I don't need to pull myself together from anything, you git!"

Harry grinned at him without a trace of repentinence and said lightly, "Great. I'll just be heading back then. See you in Potions, I'm sure." Before Draco realized what he'd just caused, the Gryffindor was back under his cloak and out the door. Draco was left to flop back onto his still-warm bed and contemplate the new school year, alone.