Don't Let Go

They were on the Quidditch pitch, playing out the much-anticipated Slytherin versus Gryffindor match, when it happened. Madam Hooch was the first to spot it. Amid various shrieks of panic from the students and faculty alike, she went after the deranged bat, shouting recklessly that it needed to be caught.

Draco and Harry were the closest as they both turned their brooms in the direction of the Malanabat and sped toward the forbidden forest. The fat, brown thing was flying crookedly and his followers dipped many times into the wind before settling on a course. This was no problem for the two Seekers, having each spent many hours engaged in chasing the snitch. The thing was squeaking as it flew. Draco edged ahead, always eager to beat out the one and only Harry Potter.

"Aha!" he shouted triumphantly as his hand closed around the filthy thing. "Caught you, little bugger."

His victory was short-lived however as the whomping willow brought its branch down hard, smacking him off his broom. Draco's mind reeled as he fell, the world tumbling crazily over itself in sickening cartwheels. His mad descent was stopped as a hand grappled his arm, then slid a few inches before Draco had the sense to grab back.

He was now dangling several stories in mid-air, a deranged and very poisonous Malanabat in one hand and his lifeline to safety in the other. Looking down gave him a definite sense of vertigo, so he looked up into the face of his savior instead.

"Don't let me fall, Harry," he spoke raggedly.

"I won't let go," Harry's voice assured him.

Harry, still on his broom, managed to get them away from the whomping willow. Draco let go unexpectedly when they reached the ground, causing Harry to tumble head over heels after him as they rolled on the dirt. He immediately began shrugging out of his Quidditch robes.

"Ow! Son of a...it bit me!" Draco said involuntarily letting the Malanabat go. Harry promptly threw his robes over it before it could fly away. He held it, squirming through the bundle of cloth, as Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall came running up to them.

"My arm... it's tingling... I- I can't see..." Draco's voice held a tinge of fear. "I...I...I can't feel my arm!"

"Oh, dear," said Professor McGonagall. "We'd better get him to Madam Pomfrey. Harry, give me a hand."

Harry handed off the armload of crazy bat and helped McGonagall to support Draco back to the castle. Halfway there, Draco's legs gave out on him.

"I'll handle it from here, Harry," Dumbledore said, coming up behind them smoothly. "The match has been suspended. Please return to your dormitory with the other students until the grounds can be searched for additional Malanabats."

"Yes, sir," Harry said faintly, not knowing what else to say. He watched them move Draco's lifelessly stiff body until he was out of sight. Then he dragged himself up to Gryffindor tower. He was no sooner through the portrait hole than Ron and Hermione pounced on him.

"Well?" Hermione said anxiously.

"What?" Harry asked, rather alarmed that half his housemates seemed to be staring at him.

"Did they catch it?" Ron asked anxiously. "What happened to Malfoy?"

"He caught it," Harry said, "but it bit him. I think... it must have hurt."

It seemed a rather lame answer, even to his ears, so Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and waited. After a few minutes Hermione said, "Well, thank heavens you're safe, Harry."

"Yeah," some of the others seconded as Professor McGonagall came through the portrait hole.

"The faculty is conducting a search of the grounds," she stated. "You are to remain here until we can be assured of your safety."

"Professor?" Hermione said.

"Yes?"

"I was wondering... Madam Hooch called that thing a Malanabat, but I don't remember seeing it in any of the magical creature texts I've read." Several students looked shocked; Hermione didn't know something? Clearly the world was ending.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "No, I'm afraid you wouldn't have. This will be the fifth reported incident involving the creature. It's one of you-know-who's experiments."

Gasps all around, then McGonagall continued. "He's been cross-breeding creatures and enhancing their venoms with magical properties."

"Isn't that dangerous?" someone asked.

"Quite," came the crisp reply. "The Malanabat has so far been his greatest triumph. One sufferer reported that the poison felt like a liquid version of the Cruciatus. Without immediate medical attention, I'm afraid the consequences are very dire indeed."

Cue the horrified murmurs, Harry thought, glancing about at his classmates. Professor McGonagall indicated that everyone should start on their homework assignments instead of lolling about. Slowly the group broke up. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione.

"I think I'll just lie down for a bit before dinner," Harry said. His friends nodded, letting him go off without further questions. Harry crawled upstairs and flopped down on the bed. He was intent on trying to rest. He didn't want to think about Voldemort's creatures or anything else involving the dark lord. He needn't have worried; the minute he closed his eyes he saw only Draco's face.

"Don't let me fall, Harry."

And Harry's own voice, just as insistent, "I won't let go."

It just kept replaying in Harry's brain. Something strange had happened. The way he gripped Draco's hand, as if he couldn't let go. Harry rolled over and punched his pillow, trying to rearrange the stuffing.

"Don't let me fall, Harry."

"I won't let go."

Something was tickling his mind and wouldn't stop. Harry squeezed his eyes shut tightly. What was wrong with him? Why was he thinking so much about Malfoy?

He sat bolt upright when he realized what was different. Draco had called him "Harry." Not "Potter," but "Harry." Uh-oh. Harry laid himself down again and thoughtfully drummed his fingers on his chest.

The scene replayed again in his head. He was holding tightly to Draco's hand...almost as if he couldn't let go... No, he realized, as if he didn't want to let go. Harry sat straight up in bed and tried hard not to shake.

Of course, it's not every day you realize you've got the warm fuzzies for your hated rival. Harry allowed a small shiver to snake over his body before leaping from the bed. Obviously his head needed clearing. Obviously he was thinking mad, outlandish thoughts.

Obviously.

He just needed to walk it off. Yes, that was a solid plan. I'll just walk off the feelings of intimacy I've got for a boy who hates me. Harry wanted to scream at himself as he grabbed his invisibility cloak and hurried out of the tower. He didn't actively think about where he was going, but somehow he ended up there anyway.

He stared at the door to the infirmary and willed his hand not to tremble as he reached for the knob. Moving very carefully, Harry edged over to where Madam Pomfrey stood tending to Draco. The boy on the bed writhed in silent agony, his body sweating out tiny beads of silver poison. Above him, Madam Pomfrey sponged off the mercurial liquid that poured from his pores, squeezing it out in a tall opaque cylinder at her side.

"Don't lurk," Madam Pomfrey commanded. Harry jumped. He pulled off the invisibility cloak, wondering how she'd known he was there. She turned around and looked at him.

"The poison from the Malanabat is very strong. I've given him a potion that is expelling it from his body. He is very ill. The poison is pumping through his heart, but the potions are causing it to bubble out through the skin," Madam Pomfrey said. Harry looked down at Draco, noticing the shimmery pool at his sternum. She continued, "The bite has caused temporary, though very severe, damage. He cannot see, he cannot hear, and I'm doubtful as to the possibility of coherent thought through this much pain. I've got to go up to Dumbledore's office and dispose of this poison," she said, indicating the very full cylinder on the side table. "Don't touch anything and don't annoy Mr. Malfoy while I'm gone. Will I have to lock you out to assure your compliance on that matter?"

Harry shook his head mutely at her and watched as she used supremely cautious motions to transport the silvery liquid swimming in the jar. Then they were alone, just he and Draco in the silent ward.

Silent save one thing.

Harry moved closer to the bed and Draco's gasping figure. His skin was deathly white, his cornsilk hair dampened with silver sweat as his grey eyes stared unseeing to the ceiling. He was twitching slightly as the poison rained out of his body. Harry came closer still, brushing a strand of hair away from Draco's face. Draco flinched, his eyes flicking wildly toward Harry, but never focusing. His breath was coming in tattered wheezes, choking little noises that rose from his throat and barely lived past the red gash that was his mouth. His hand curved out as if reaching for Harry, but without sight, he only held it there, then dropped it a moment later when the effort became too much for him. His fingers twisted into themselves, clutching for something.

Without thinking Harry reached out and rested his fingers on Draco's. The panting slowed for a moment as Draco's hand grappled desperately for Harry's. Harry held fast and gave Draco a reassuring squeeze. The shimmering poison seeped into Harry's skin and for a moment, Harry was flooded with a very powerful and painful feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. He was suddenly bombarded with the essence of Draco, as if all of Draco's hopes and fears and wants and needs were rushing into him. He gasped and broke the contact, his hand burning where he'd touched the other boy. He looked at his hand as Draco arched in pain. The flesh of his fingers were aching so badly he considered cutting off his own hand for a moment, but instead used his wand to cast an icy patch over the damaged skin. It helped a bit and Harry looked back to Draco. On his body ran rivers of silver acid etching their patterns onto his skin. His eyes blinked madness as he grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, almost trying to anchor himself to the bed.

Never a fan of suffering, Harry took up Madam Pomfrey's sponge and raked it down Draco's smooth chest. Draco relaxed a tiny bit, allowing Harry to mop away the malicious liquid. Harry continued dragging the sponge along the creamy skin to the waist of Draco's shorts, the only thing he wore.

A tingling sensation crept into Harry's hand. The sponge was fully soaked, but now that there was no container to empty it into, Harry simply stood there, wishing Madam Pomfrey would hurry back. As soon as he took the sponge away, Draco's pain began to increase. Against his better judgment, Harry dropped the sponge on the side table and reached out with his own hand. Once he touched Draco's bare chest, his brain lurched. Every moment he had ever shared with Draco Malfoy went rushing through his mind at warp speed, thrusting all of Draco's emotions to the foreground and filling Harry with an empathetic pain. He saw their first meeting, their subsequent public dispute, countless Quidditch matches, and the smashing wine glass during OWLS... Oh, God, that shattering glass, sounding in his head like thousands of tiny bells... Harry doubled over as the physical aspect of the pain overwhelmed him. But he couldn't stop now; didn't want to. He stripped off his shirt and climbed onto the bed, scrubbing relentlessly at Draco's tortured skin until his whole t-shirt was soaked with the sterling toxin. He was vaguely aware that he was straddling the other boy as Draco's emotions plugged through him frantically. He kept seeing things over and over, things he knew, but now, instead of his own feelings, it was Draco's that were running attached to his memories. The passions were so fierce, so strong, that despite how dreadfully Harry's skin was burning, he couldn't force himself to stop touching his enemy. He chucked his shirt to the floor and placed both hands on Draco's chest, smoothing the blistering solution away. Draco's face turned up and he calmed under Harry's light touch. Harry very vigorously began drawing the poison off of Draco's skin, garnering more and more of Draco's consciousness into himself. He shuddered, reeling, as the sudden and very powerful urge to kiss Draco overtook him.

Harry gave in immediately, reasonable thought having completely fled. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Draco's hot mouth. Harry's tongue delved in, trying to get more, taste more of Draco. The other boy moved tentatively, his soft lips gently brushing Harry's at first, then wavering a moment before his hands came up and he tilted his head, fitting their mouths together perfectly. His featherlight fingers stroked Harry's cheek, scorching him. Harry screamed in Draco's mouth and tore away, panting for breath as Madam Pomfrey's voice yelled out at him from the darkness.

He felt her dragging him off of Draco, shouting at him, "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Harry was in too much pain to answer. While he'd been touching Draco, he was aware of the horrible pain that licked him, but now that the contact was broken, the sensation that his skin was on fire was killing him. Madam Pomfrey was now muttering about the stupidity of impetuous students. She held up his ruined blue shirt as proof and demanded, "What on earth do you think you were doing?"

"I...I...the sponge," Harry stammered, rolling on the stone floor. "I was only trying to help."

Madam Pomfrey ordered him onto the neighboring bed and began cleaning him up. She worked very quickly, telling Harry to drink this potion and the next. He began to drift away into a wandering sleep, excruciatingly conscious of Draco moaning from the next bed.

Two hours later Madam Pomfrey had succeeded in drawing most of the toxic venom from Draco's body. Harry could hear his calm, unagitated breathing as Draco slept. When she left to take up the cylinder, Harry reached out into the darkness and was surprised to find Draco's fingers already waiting. Harry squeezed lightly, thinking how good it felt to touch Draco this way.

That was the last thought he had before sleep hit him full force.

In the morning Harry awoke to a blank white canvas. He reached out for his glasses, his bandaged hand knocking over a glass of water on the side table. His mouth was parched, his lips chapped beyond badly. He tried to sit up, unable to see clearly, but keenly aware of the dressings wound tightly around his torso and hands. Gauze covered his cheeks and Harry tried vainly to recollect last night's events.

"Well, you're awake," Madam Pomfrey said. She helped him arrange his glasses on his nose. "Let me have a look."

She began peeling the bandaging away from his face. Harry tried to sit very still while she worked. Images from the previous evening began floating through his mind. He'd been... and Draco was...and then he was kissing Malfoy, yes, he remembered that, all right...

"Do you remember what you did last night?" she asked him, interrupting his thoughts.

"N-no," Harry lied. His heart began to pound rather loudly inside his chest. He swallowed, wondering if he could get detention for kissing his sworn enemy.

"You were trying to help Mr. Malfoy," she reminded him. "You used your shirt to soak up the poison that seared his skin. That was foolish for a multitude of reasons."

She paused to give him an admonishing look. "But your heart was in the right place. Of course, being that your shirt was not enchanted to withstand the poison as was the sponge...Well, let us say that it was sacrificed on the altar of good intentions."

Harry understood; he didn't really care at all about the shirt. "How is he doing today?"

"Better," she said. "As are you. Here, drink this."

The potion she handed him had a pleasant vanilla-y taste to it although it was much too thick and gunky to be enjoyable. She went about removing his bandages and applying salve to his tender skin.

"There," she said, taking back the empty cup. "How do you feel?"

"Much better, thank you," he said, a sincere smile warming his face. The action hurt his cracked lips, but the potion kicked in and began to smooth out the marred pits from last evening's stunts.

"You'll be back at classes tomorrow afternoon, I think," she told him. Harry looked at the large white screen blocking his view of Draco's bed.

"Er... what about him?"

He nodded his head in the direction of the screen and Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Well, he's much better, but won't be ready for classes anytime soon. The venom of the Malanabat is nearly fatal, so he's suffered quite a lot of damage. He's young, but it will still take time for him to heal. Give him a week or so and he'll be out fighting you for the snitch once again."

She moved off and he watched her disappear behind the screen. He heard the telltale sounds of gauze being stripped away and replaced. Harry wondered briefly if Draco would remember anything from last night.

"There you are," a familiar voice said. Harry looked up to see Hermione and Ron lodged in the doorway. He gave them a smile and waited as they scooted in closer. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"What happened to your face?" Ron asked, instantly reddening a moment later. "I mean... sorry."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione scolded, "you haven't been fighting, have you?"

"That's it," Ron said. "Did you go at it with Malfoy?"

"Er...sort of," Harry said, unable to suppress a wicked grin.

Hermione shook her head disapprovingly. "Harry, you mustn't let him goad you into doing anything rash."

"I can take care of myself, thanks," he said a bit too shortly. The hurt look that crossed briefly through her eyes reminded him of himself. "Sorry. I'm tired, I think."

"That's okay," she said quickly. "We'd better get to breakfast anyway. Then we're going to the library to get that book McGonagall suggested. I'll bring it by later."

"Thanks," he replied as they departed. Ron gave him a little wave as they exited and Madam Pomfrey emerged from behind the screen.

"I've got to pop down and have a word with Professor Snape," she told him. "Mind that you don't cause any more trouble."

"Madam Pomfrey," he said, then paused. "Would it be all right if...?"

His voice trailed off as he looked toward the screen hesitantly.

"Just for a moment," she told him, giving him a severe look. "But don't aggravate him."

"Can he... you know, see again?"

She shook her head. Harry waited until she had gone before pushing back the bedcovers and swinging his legs over the edge. He padded across the cold stone floor to where Draco slept half-uncovered in the bed behind the screen. Morning light illuminated his face, the mellow gilt playing on the gauze. He looked oddly peaceful, arrogantly angelic, if such a thing was possible. Harry moved toward him, all his thoughts from last night tumbling over one another like rain. Stopping at Draco's side, he tentatively reached down and brushed Draco's hand lightly with his own.

Draco's eyes flew open instantly, as if the shock of contact was electric. He turned his head, but his eyes still saw nothing. A look of confusion crossed his face as his mouth moved in silent conversation.

"It's me, Harry," Harry whispered, leaning over and lacing Draco's thumb over his own. Draco looked bewildered for a moment, then relaxed, his eyes drooping closed once more. Harry wondered if he could even hear him. Yesterday Madam Pomfrey had said that he couldn't, so Harry was guessing that he hadn't yet recovered that sense.

Luckily Draco's sense of touch seemed to be working just fine. He stroked one finger along Harry's rough skin, repeating the movement as if committing Harry's knuckle to memory. Harry's heart flipped over as he reached out to touch Draco lightly on the cheek. He brushed a stray lock of hair away from Draco's temple and leaned down to plant a soft kiss there. Draco didn't respond except to release a whispering sigh as he settled back into slumber. Harry let Draco's hand flutter down to the bed again as Harry gingerly made his way back across the room. He lay down and tired hard not to grin like an idiot. Eventually he gave up, turned his face to the pillow and smiled till his cheeks hurt. Only then did he dare get up and return to class with his fellow schoolmates. After all, how would he ever explain his euphoria to anyone? He pictured telling Ron and Hermione that he'd fallen in love with Malfoy. There was a discussion he didn't relish.

"By the way, I'm madly in love with Draco Malfoy." Yeah, he thought dryly, that'll be the day.

Classes on Monday dragged by with agonizing slowness. Harry idly tapped his quill on his desk as he absently took notes, his thoughts dwelling almost entirely on Draco. Harry had stopped by in the morning to check on Draco, but Madam Pomfrey said he was sleeping and sent Harry away. Now he sat at his desk wondering...well, all sorts of things. The foremost thought was when he'd be able to escape back to the infirmary to see his... well, Draco wasn't really his anything, was he? Rival? Yes. Boyfriend? One kiss hardly constituted that sort of relationship. Harry sighed. He wished the class would hurry up and end so he could check on Draco's progress. He wondered if Draco would even remember that kiss. He hoped so.

At last they were free and Harry made for the infirmary, much to the confusion of his two best friends.

"Harry?" Hermione called questioningly when he turned down the corridor in the opposite direction of Gryffindor tower. "Where are you going?"

"The infirmary," he replied without thinking. He immediately cursed himself, thinking he had no reason to go there except to see Draco.

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Hermione probed, "Are you feeling ill, Harry?"

"Erm...well, I just want Madam Pomfrey to check something for me," Harry dodged. "I'll be right back."

"We can go with you, Harry," Ron said promptly.

"No, no!" Harry said, already hurrying away. "You two go on. I'll see you later."

He left them staring after him in the hallway. He hoped they wouldn't make too much of it as he made his way down the long corridor.

"Well," Madam Pomfrey said when she saw him, "what are you doing back so soon? You're not having side effects from the potions, are you?"

"No," he hastily assured her. He hesitated.

"What can I do for you then?"

"I was just wondering...how Draco is?"

Madam Pomfrey looked surprised. "You mean since this morning?"

She eyed Harry suspiciously.

"Yes," Harry said. "Is he any better?"

"No, I'm afraid it's still too soon for much improvement," she told him. "I'm sure your concern is appreciated, but right now, the best thing for him is to rest. Now go on."

She effectively shooed him away and Harry found himself back in the hallway, completely frustrated that he hadn't seen Draco at all. He trudged back up to the dormitory where Hermione and Ron were busy comparing notes from their morning classes.

"There you are, Harry," Hermione said. "I've got that book on Transfiguration and some notes I've made. Have you got a quill?"

Harry sat down with them and began copying Hermione's meticulous notes. He looked up to find her studying him curiously.

"What?" he asked, the hair on the nape of his neck prickling a bit.

"Are you...okay?"

"Yes," he replied stiffly, bending his head over the parchment again.

"Its just you've been acting a little funny since yesterday," she went on. Harry bit his lip. Sometimes Hermione was just a little too clever for her own good.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "Now come on, this homework isn't going to write itself."

That seemed to satisfy (or at least distract) her. They continued on in quietude until it was time for dinner. For Harry, the rest of the evening dragged. He couldn't wait to sleep, knowing that it brought him one day closer to the day that Draco could hear him and see him again. The day they could finally talk about what had transpired between them. The day he might find out that Draco Malfoy loved him, or worse, still despised him. It was a day that Harry was learning to both long for and dread. He fell asleep with strange thoughts swimming in his head and Draco's name on his lips.

The next day was no different really. He ducked out on his friends and scampered off to his secret trysts with Draco. Well, they were hardly a secret to Madam Pomfrey, but she kept her opinions to herself and somehow Harry never thought that his behavior might concern her. And he really couldn't refer to them as trysts so much when the boy he was visiting was usually unconscious. After two agonizingly slow days, Madam Pomfrey told Harry the good news. Draco Malfoy was coming around, finally showing signs of improvement. She expected his hearing to come back shortly. Harry was ecstatic that night at dinner, causing Ron and Hermione to look at him queerly.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked him for the six hundredth time. He smiled benevolently at her.

"Never better, why?"

"You're acting weird," Ron informed him. That shot the smile off Harry's face.

"Er...sorry," he managed. "I was just thinking about the Quidditch match on Saturday against Ravenclaw."

Ron, ever the Quidditch enthusiast, immediately perked up. "Yes, do you think it'll be a tough win? I don't see what they'll even show up for with you on our side."

The conversation turned to Quidditch, which was a good distraction except for the fact that it reminded Harry of playing Quidditch against Draco, which reminded Harry of how yummy Draco looked in his Quidditch robes, which swiftly melted into how good Draco would look out of his Quidditch robes. This thought caused another one of those maddening grins to flicker across Harry's face. He squelched it before Hermione could make another comment. He tried to get away that night after dinner, but Hermione was rather insistent about their Transfiguration homework and Harry was finally out of good excuses. Oh, well, he thought to himself, I'll get up early tomorrow and sneak off to see Draco. All his meetings so far hadn't brought any more kisses, but Harry was hopeful. He could recall in great detail (and often did) just how soft Draco's lips were and how hot his kiss was. It was with a determined mind that he set into his homework and went to bed early in the hopes of seeing Draco first thing in the morning.

Unfortunately for Harry, he almost never managed to wake up before Ron and this day was no exception. Harry groggily shoved his glasses onto his nose and went in search of his toothbrush. He had hoped to slip out to visit Draco before breakfast, but he didn't see how he could work it in unless...

As soon as he was dressed he ditched his friends, not waiting for either of them and crossing his fingers that they wouldn't miss their breakfast on his account. He forced himself not to run but to walk at a suitable pace down to the sick ward.

"Well, what are you doing here so early?" Madam Pomfrey was surprised to say the least. "If I didn't know better I'd think you had a homing charm drawing you here."

"Is he better today?"

If she was curious about his interest in Draco, she mercifully kept it to herself. "A bit. He's gotten his voice back, and his hearing. His vision hasn't cleared yet. Are you going to come in?"

"Oh...yes, thanks," Harry said, stepping inside. "Can I...see him?"

She raised her eyebrows at him in something between bafflement and alarm before nodding at him. He thought she would've been used to seeing him by now. Harry ducked around the curtain, grateful to escape her scrutiny. He wished, in fact, that she would leave them alone together, but like most wishes, that wasn't about to happen. Draco was still sleeping, or at least, he had his eyes shut when Harry came to his bedside. He wondered whether he ought to cough or something to wake Draco, but thought the better of it and simply stood quietly staring at the blond boy lying in the bed. With careful tenderness Harry laid his hand on top of Draco's.

The boy startled awake, instantly pulling his hand up and snapping, "Go away!"

Harry, momentarily shocked, leaned down and hurriedly whispered in Draco's ear, "It's me...Harry."

"I know," Draco said peevishly. He rolled onto his side, turning his back on Harry. Harry stood for a moment, not knowing what to make of the situation. He wondered what Draco was thinking; what Draco remembered. Maybe he didn't remember anything. Maybe he thought they were still enemies.

Mustering his softest tone, Harry tried again, "I just came to see how you are."

Draco said nothing, appearing to stew in silence.

Harry frowned. This was not turning out as he might have hoped. Though frankly, he hadn't known what to expect. He decided to give it one last go.

"Do you need anything?"

"Sod off!" Draco barked at him. Harry stepped back as if the words could bite him. Feeling hurt and rather stupid, Harry turned to go. He'd almost gotten to the door when Draco's voice called to him.

"Potter."

It was more a statement than a question. Harry still responded politely. "Yes?"

"What happened to my broom?"

"Oh...I...dunno," Harry said. "I can find out if you want..."

"No, thanks." A civil reply. It occurred to Harry that it might be the nicest thing Draco had ever said to him. Madam Pomfrey appeared in his sightline and gave him a stern look. Harry let himself be chased out by it and went on to breakfast, shuffling his feet rather slowly.

"Where on earth were you?" Hermione asked the minute Harry arrived at the Gryffindor table. He sank down into his seat without saying anything. Ron passed him a plate of sausages and waited for Harry to say something.

Harry, aware that his two friends were staring at him, finally looked up and said one word. "Thanks."

Ron and Hermione exchanged worried glances over Harry's head. Harry, for his part, continued to eat morosely as though he expected to choke to death at any interval. When breakfast ended, Hermione excused herself to run a quick errand.

Ron studied Harry as they walked along to class. "So, er...where were you this morning?"

"What?" Harry looked up as though caught off guard. "This morning?"

"Yes," Ron said emphatically. "Where were you?"

"Where was I?" Harry parroted dumbly.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry," Ron said. "You can tell me. I mean, it's one thing not to tell Hermione if you're running around after some girl, but you could tell me."

"A girl?" Harry repeated.

"I'm beginning to think you suffered a severe blow to the head, Harry," Ron told him.

"Look, Ron, I'm sorry," Harry said.

"I know it's nobody in Gryffindor," Ron went on.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, if it was someone we knew you wouldn't be sneaking off, would you?"

"Who's sneaking off?" Harry said exasperatedly.

"So I've concluded it must be someone we'd really disapprove of," Ron said, smiling triumphantly.

Harry paled slightly.

"Someone in Slytherin, I'll bet." A teasing grin played on Ron's face. Harry felt his pulse speed up in paranoia. "Well, who is it?"

"I...uh...I..." Harry stammered. He began blushing against his will. The hot flush crept up through his cheeks and flooded his whole face.

"Is it Pansy?"

"Pansy?" Harry's breathing slowed from its ascent into hyperventilation. "Pansy."

He was saved from having to confirm or deny anything by Hermione's interruption.

"What are you two standing about in the hallway for? Come on, we'll be late for class!" She prodded them down the corridor, lecturing them about the dangers of tardiness. Ron continued to grin knowingly, convinced he had guessed Harry's secret. Harry sat miserably through Potions, convinced he was in trouble no matter what. Draco had rejected him, Ron and Hermione were suspicious of him, and Madam Pomfrey probably thought he needed his head examined. His friends would agree if they knew he'd fallen for Malfoy.

Inside, Harry was a pool of heartache. Maybe Draco just needed reminding. After all, when Harry had touched him, he knew he was seeing their shared moments through Draco's eyes. Oh, no, Harry thought, sitting up straighter. Maybe Draco saw everything through Harry's eyes. Maybe all he saw was negative stuff. But then what about the kiss? his brain nagged. I wanted that, I wanted to kiss Draco. And I thought he wanted to kiss me, too.

His misery did not go unnoticed, especially by Professor Snape who docked Gryffindor five points for moping. Harry tried to cheer up for lunchtime, but the truth was that all his thoughts were consumed by Draco. He just had to remind Draco of that kiss. In his heart, Harry felt certain that Draco had meant it, too. Now if only he would remember.

The first step was to fulfill Draco's request. Aware that he would be openly drawing further concern from his friends if he went directly over to the Slytherin table, Harry decided he'd better approach Draco's friends privately. He waited until he saw Crabbe and Goyle leaving and then hastily made his exit complaining that he'd forgotten his notebook in the Charms classroom.

"Hey, Crabbe, Goyle!" Harry called once he was out in the hallway. Draco's cronies turned at the sound of his voice. Their shock over who was addressing them was written all over their faces. They stood, staring, jaws gaping, as Harry hurried over to them. Salutations were evidently not the pair's forte, so Harry jumped right to his question. "What happened to Draco's broom?"

"Wha?" Goyle said.

"Draco Malfoy's broom," Harry repeated, slowly emphasizing each syllable as though he were speaking to foreigners. "Where is it?"

"I don't know," Goyle said, tossing a look at Crabbe. Crabbe shrugged.

"I suppose it's wherever he left it," Crabbe suggested.

"Gah," Harry said. "You don't mean its still out by the Whomping Willow?"

They exchanged glances with each other and shrugged again.

"Thanks," Harry said sarcastically. "You've both been really helpful."

Harry set off toward Gryffindor tower, hands shoved in his pockets, deep in thought. He wondered if he ought to go out and pick up the pieces of Draco's broom for him. If it had been left to the Willow all this time, it was likely to be nothing more than splinters by now. He ran into Professor McGonagall coming out of the portrait hole.

"Professor," he asked suddenly, "do you know if Draco Malfoy's broom was recovered after the Malanabat attack?"

Professor McGonagall regarded him inquisitively. "I wouldn't know. Perhaps his head of House might. Why don't you go and ask Professor Snape?"

"Thank you," Harry said as she retreated down the staircase. He screwed up his face, wondering whether he dared go ask Snape for anything. He decided to risk it and hurried down to the dungeons as fast as his feet would take him. He hung around outside the Slytherin's portrait and waited for someone to come along who knew the password. He ended up waiting quite a while. His big toe went numb, followed by his foot, followed by his calf. He was just about to give up when Pansy Parkinson happened upon him hopping around trying to get rid of the pins and needles in his leg.

"You Gryffindors are a strange lot," she stated. "What are you doing down here?"

"I need to talk to Professor Snape," Harry said quickly. He stopped jumping around, hoping he looked serious. She was looking at him as though he had more than the standard number of heads. Nevertheless, she whispered the password and brought Harry into the Slytherin Dungeon.

Professor Snape was settling a dispute between two housemates. He stopped cold when he saw Harry.

"What are you doing down here?" he hissed between his teeth.

"I...I wanted to ask you something, Professor," Harry said, trying to appear more bold than he felt.

"Well, out with it," Snape said. All of the Slytherins watched Harry, waiting to hear what he would say. Harry realized entirely too late that he was a fool to have come here.

"I wanted to know if anyone collected Draco Malfoy's broom after the incident with the Malanabat." To his credit, Harry's voice did not waver, nor did his gaze. Snape continued to glare at him scathingly.

"Not," Snape spoke emphatically, "that it is any of your business, but yes, Mr. Malfoy's broom was collected immediately and inspected thoroughly for damage. After his heroic actions, we could hardly let something happen to his precious possession."

Harry nodded. "Thank you. Good night."

He left with as much poise as he could muster and thankfully escaped into the hallway. He practically ran all the way back to Gryffindor tower. He considered briefly stopping by the infirmary, but decided against it. He would wait until later, when he could speak with Draco uninterrupted.

He was a bit short of breath when he climbed through the portrait hole. Hermione and Ron were seated at a table near the fireplace, their heads bent together in quiet conversation. They looked up when Harry entered but neither of them smiled. He came over to them and stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"Er...hi," he said after a bit.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said with a sigh. She put down her quill. "How are you?"

"Fine, thanks," he replied automatically. He sat down in a nearby chair and said, "What are you two doing? Homework?"

"Did you find it?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Erm..." Harry said, blushing with the assumption that they knew he was looking for Draco's broom.

"Your notebook," Hermione said. "Did you find it?"

"Oh," said Harry, greatly relieved. "No."

"No?" Ron frowned. "You look awfully happy about that."

"What? No. No, of course not. No, I'm worried about it."

"Really." It came from Hermione but it wasn't a query.

"Yes."

"Because Ron found it on your bed with the rest of your schoolbooks when we got back from dinner," Hermione concluded.

"Oh." Harry really couldn't think of anything else to say.

"And we went down to the Charms classroom and you were not there."

Harry sat quietly, knowing that she was coming to a point. He waited.

"Harry, you've been acting oddly for days now," Hermione said worriedly. "I went to Madam Pomfrey and she gave me a list of the potions she gave you. She also told me how you got hurt."

Harry tried hard not to get hot, but he couldn't help it. He listened as she continued, "She said you touched Malfoy and came in contact with the poison that way."

"What were you doing? Fighting with him while he was unconscious?" she wanted to know.

"No...not exactly," Harry said, wondering how he much he could omit while still keeping the explanation plausible.

"I've been doing some research, Harry," she went on. Ron was looking decidedly ill at this point, but remained determinedly seated by her side. "It seems possible that in touching the poison, you may have opened an empathetic channel between yourself and Malfoy."

"What?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Now, Harry, this is very important," Hermione said carefully. "You didn't have any open cuts when you touched Malfoy, did you?"

"No," Harry answered firmly.

"You're sure?"

"Yes," he replied certainly. Hermione and Ron looked greatly relieved.

"Thank goodness," Hermione said.

"Yeah," said Ron, who'd been completely quiet up till this point. "We were worried it might have had some worse effects."

"But it will wear off in a few days," Hermione told him, picking up her quill again. "Then you can get back to normal, Harry."

That seemed to close the discussion on their part, but Harry still had a question. "Why will it wear off? What if what happened to me was permanent?"

"You mean you think you were allergic to some component of one of the potions?" Hermione asked.

"Er...well, maybe," Harry said. Mostly he was thinking he didn't want his love for Draco to just wear off.

"I'll double check the ingredients and see what I can find," Hermione said efficiently. "In the meantime, Harry, if you do get to feeling bad, you don't have to hide it from us. Just go to Madam Pomfrey and she'll be able to help you."

"Thanks," Harry said appreciatively. After all, Hermione had just given him a perfect excuse to go to the infirmary any time he liked. He just hoped this particular bout of nosiness was drawing to a close.

They turned their attention to homework and it wasn't long before the common room began clearing as students went off to bed. Ron and Harry joined them, leaving Hermione to tidy up her multiple scrolls of notes.

"You never told me who she was," Ron said when they were going up the stairs.

"She who?" Harry asked a split second before remembering his earlier discussion with Ron. "Oh. Trust me, Ron, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Harry grinned and Ron, happy to see Harry acting like himself again, let the remark slide.

It was well after midnight when Harry finally got the nerve up to leave the dormitory. He was anxious not to get caught, so naturally the invisibility cloak was the first thing he grabbed. Satisfied that he was well hidden and that everyone was sleeping too soundly to miss him, Harry crept out of the tower and walked silently through the corridors, winding his way down to the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey was not around, thankfully. Harry assumed she must be asleep as well. He moved to Draco's bed and stood there for a moment, wondering if he'd made a mistake in coming. He took a step closer, leaning over to look at Draco's face.

Draco's eyes snapped open.

Harry, alarmed, took a step back.

"Potter?" Draco whispered hoarsely.

"Y-yes?"

"What time is it?"

"A little after midnight," Harry replied quietly. He slipped the invisibility cloak off and came closer. "Sorry I woke you."

"No, you're not," Draco told him derisively.

"All right," Harry said defensively. "I'm not sorry. I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, I'm awake now," Draco drawled. "Talk."

Harry was still for a moment, surprised that Draco was being so lenient considering his mood from this morning.

"Snape has your broom. He said it was fine."

"I know," Draco sighed. "You must've caused quite a scene."

His trademark smirk came upon his face and he said, "Snape came by tonight and told me. You don't want to know what he thinks."

"What?" Harry asked, mystified.

Draco turned his gorgeous eyes toward Harry. "He thinks you're developing a serious obsession with me."

Draco grinned and Harry returned the gesture immediately. He was struck by a sudden thought. "Draco..."

"Yes?" the unmistakable combination of charm and privilege was laced in his voice, and even that one word was enough to make Harry's stomach flutter.

"Can you see me?"

Draco sighed. "No. Not yet. Just a lot of blurry shapes. Shades of gray and such."

"Oh," Harry said, pondering this. "Well, then, how did you know it was me when I came in? You know, if you couldn't see me?"

Draco screwed up his face as though wrestling with some great debate within his head. When at last he answered, his voice was firm yet quiet. "You smell like soap."

Harry frowned, this being the last thing he expected Draco to say. He said nothing, so Draco went on even more quietly, "You always smell like soap."

Harry's heart skipped. He didn't know at all what to say. He thought it must be the closest thing to a compliment he would ever get from Malfoy so he better just sit there and enjoy it while he could.

"Oh," he said finally. He took a step closer so that he was standing close enough to touch the blond-haired boy. He felt a sudden shyness creeping into him as he considered brushing Draco's hair away from his brow. He wondered what would happen if he did. Before he crossed that line again, Harry knew he'd better discover exactly how much Draco remembered.

"Do you... do you remember what happened after the Malanabat bit you?" Harry asked finally.

Draco was silent for a moment. He spoke cautiously, "I remember I was in a lot of pain. I remember being quite sure that I was going to die...and..."

His hand reached out to rest on Harry's arm. "I remember you."

He started to take his hand away, but Harry caught it and held it to his chest. "I was here. I...I don't know quite what I was doing, but..."

A soundless moment hung between them during which Harry desperately wanted to know what Draco was thinking. His thumb was tracing patterns on Harry's knuckle, his fingertip smooth and cool. Harry's heart began to thud loudly in his ears. The motion felt so comfortable, so intimate. Harry leaned over and kissed Draco softly on the mouth.

The other boy was startled. He hesitated for a moment, laying stiffly on the bed with Harry's lips over his, not breathing, not moving, just waiting. His eyes fell shut and he felt the warmth of Harry's kiss flow into him. Draco opened his mouth and let Harry's tongue pursue his. It was slow and gentle, a simple exploration that Draco found enlightening. Harry tasted like peppermint toothpaste, Draco noted with something that felt like pleasure.

When they finally broke from one another, Draco chuckled softly. Harry, still holding Draco's hand in his, asked uneasily, "What's so funny?"

"I was just wondering..." Draco's lazy speech pattern had quite an effect on Harry, causing a heady little rush. "Do you plan to come here nightly and molest me?"

"Molest you?" Harry countered. "That's hardly what I would call it."

"No?"

"No," Harry said firmly.

"What would you call it?" Draco asked.

"Hmm," Harry said thoughtfully. "Don't know. Needs more evaluation."

He leaned over and sealed his mouth over Draco's once more. The Slytherin did not protest, instead he drew his hand up through Harry's messy hair and sighed contentedly in his mouth. Harry felt a little thrill shoot through his chest and he grinned against Draco, effectively breaking the kiss.

"Well?" Draco intoned in that same delightful manner that made Harry suddenly feel weak.

"Wonderful," Harry admitted without actively thinking about his answer. Draco laughed at him again, a soft, throaty sound like drifted up like music to Harry's ears.

"Yes, I know," Draco said, "but I believe the question was what you were going to call it."

"Oh," Harry said, trying but failing to remember the exact thread of their conversation. "Well, let's just settle for snogging."

"Snogging?" Draco repeated. "Does that sound like something that someone of my breeding and sophistication would do?"

"Snogging with style?" Harry suggested weakly.

"You really are a prat, you know that?" Draco closed his eyes sleepily. Harry let go of Draco's hand and moved to get his invisibility cloak.

"You leaving?"

"Well, I thought you might be tired," Harry said.

"I am." Draco paused, seeming as though he wanted to say more. "Harry..."

Harry's heart fluttered on hearing Draco use his name. "Yes?"

"You do know that if you tell anyone about this that I will have to beat you to a fine and bloody pulp." There was a darkness to his voice that harkened back to their conversation of that morning.

Harry started to say that he understood, but stopped short. "What's wrong with you?"

"Come on, Harry," Draco said. "You're not ready for what that would bring down on our heads, are you?"

Harry considered Draco's statement for a moment, then confessed, "No. I suppose not."

"Oh, hell," Draco said, struck suddenly, "you didn't tell Weasel and Granger, did you?"

"About what?" Harry snapped, frustrated. "No. No, I haven't! What would I say? Hi, there, and did you know that I fancy Malfoy the hated git-face?"

Amusement played across Draco's face. "Malfoy the hated git-face? You Gryffindors aren't a creative lot, are you? I would've thought you'd have been able to come up with something a little more descriptive than that."

"Malfoy the arrogant?"

"Too Viking."

"Malfoy the smug little bastard whom none of us can stand."

"That's hardly imaginative."

"Malfoy the sodding wanker who kisses like a god and has a body to die for?"

"Better, but still not quite right," Draco said.

"Draco, the boy I dream about, whose mouth is a hot, wet delight and who flies like he really knows how to use his stick," Harry offered with a wicked smirk.

"Ooh," Draco intoned deliciously. "Much better. Your artistry ought to be rewarded."

He sat up and Harry came to him without being asked. Draco reached out and pulled Harry down into a reckless, luscious kiss that made Harry's thoughts swim in his head like a pool of gelatin.

"Goodnight, Harry," Draco whispered huskily when he let go.

"Goodnight," Harry returned, his voice low with emotion, "...Draco."

Harry woke up smiling. He'd been having a lovely dream, the details of which he couldn't recall in the slightest. The only thing he was sure of was that Draco had definitely been in it, and whatever they'd been doing had been a whole lot of fun. Harry grinned while he brushed his teeth, grinned while he tied his shoelaces and was still grinning when he plopped down across the breakfast table from Ron and Hermione. Ron hastily put both his hands on the table and Hermione greeted Harry with a breathless smile.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, pushing the bowl of potatoes toward him.

"Yes, thanks." Harry heaped food onto his plate, his appetites having come back with a vengeance.

"Do you want to go over the notes for the Charms exam this afternoon?" Hermione asked, shuffling her papers. Harry and Ron reluctantly agreed; Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and grinned. They both knew she would make them study whether they wanted to or not. Harry answered her questions in between bites of toast.

"You know what I think might help?" Hermione said a little too brightly when Ron failed to correctly answer his third question in a row.

"What?" Ron said through a mouthful of sausage.

"If it hurt to be stupid."

Harry nearly spit out his orange juice and barely managed to contain himself when Hermione continued on, "No, really. If you received an electric shock every time you answered wrong, you would probably put much more attention to your studies."

Harry's laugh billowed up from his chest at the sight of Ron's stricken face. Still laughing he said, "Hermione, you did not just suggest Electro-shock therapy!"

She screwed up her face and sighed. "No, I admit it was just a scare tactic, but honestly, if you don't study, you'll never live up to your potential."

"Oh, ho ho, mate," Dean Thomas said from Ron's right side. "Now you're in trouble. She wants you to live up to your potential!"

The table roared with laughter and Ron's face turned an awful shade of puce. Hermione stood up abruptly and with a flip of her hair, flounced out of the dining hall like she'd never flounced before. Harry and Ron chased after her, but took their time about it.

They found her sitting in the empty classroom, her hands folded patiently as she waited for the instructor. Harry started to go in, but Ron put out a hand to stop him.

"Better let me," he said. "Do you mind?"

"Well...no," Harry said, somewhat surprised. "I'll see you in a bit."

He turned and gave Ron a little wave, wondering at his two friends. Of course, now that he had a free moment, he could dash up to the infirmary...

When he entered, Madam Pomfrey was stacking fresh linens. She didn't even ask if he was ill, instead she simply nodded her head at him and went on with her work. Harry ducked behind the privacy screen and saw Draco sitting up in bed doing a word puzzle.

"Hey," Harry said by way of greeting. Draco glanced up and grinned, he looked past Harry and then back.

"You alone?"

"No, I brought the cast of the HMS Pinafore with me. I thought they could perform the opening number for your amusement."

"You Gryffindors don't make skillful comedians," Draco drawled at him, setting aside his quill and book.

"Hey," Harry said with a sudden realization. "You can see!"

"You don't make great detectives, either," Draco noted. Harry stood by the bed. Draco looked out toward the alcove and whispered, "Is Pomfrey still here?"

"Yeah."

"Is she the only one?"

"Yeah," Harry repeated. "Why?"

"I just want to be sure its safe to do this." He grabbed a fistful of Harry's shirt and pulled him down for a quick kiss.

"Mmm," Harry moaned softly, putting his hands on Draco's cheeks. "I could get used to this."

"Not yet," Draco murmured, pushing him away. "Besides, I haven't decided quite what to do with you."

"You haven't?" Harry said, not knowing what to think of Draco's statement.

"Yeah," Draco lolled back against his pillows, strumming his fingers across his exquisitely unshirted chest.

"Well," Harry said in a sinfully sexy voice, "let me know if you come up with anything."

They both laughed and Draco grinned at him, causing Harry to blush and look away shyly. Draco raised an eyebrow at the effect he was having on the dark-haired boy. Harry was so handsome and unassuming, he wondered how it was possible for Harry to be so sexy and not know it. Draco shook his head.

"You have Charms today?" Draco asked finally after an extended silence.

"Yeah," Harry said.

Draco's smirk applied itself and he said, "Be sure to tell me what's on the test."

Harry's mouth fell open in shock and he sputtered, "I will not!"

Draco laughed at him. "Oh, come on. Scared to break a few rules?"

"I'm known for my rule-breaking, so no," Harry retorted.

"Well, bully for you," Draco said. "Anyway, don't get into a snit about it. I'll do marvelously with or without your help."

"Unless you have to levitate oh, say, a wine goblet." The smile instantly left Draco's face and Harry knew he'd put a toe over the line. He immediately retracted his statement. "I'm sorry. Oh, I'm sorry! I did not mean it."

"Oh, but I think you did," Draco said coldly, the coolness getting all the way into his eyes and turning them to steel. "I think you should leave now."

Harry panicked, wondering why of all the stupid things he could have said, he had to say that! Why, when things were going so well with Draco, did his old habits of rivalry get the best of him? He hastened to apologize. "Please, Draco, I really didn't mean it. It was stupid and thoughtless..."

"If you don't leave, I'm going to get up and forcibly remove you," Draco continued calmly. He was staring straight ahead at a spot on the wall, completely rigid and motionless. Harry just stood there, floudering, and nearly forgot to flinch when Draco leapt from the bed and punched him in the face.

Draco reeled backward, falling against the bed as his own jaw exploded with pain. He rubbed it, wondering what had just happened. He pushed himself up and tried again. His fist made contact with Harry, but instead of absorbing the punch, Harry's arm seemed to deflect it. Draco felt pain seeping up his arm.

"Potter," he said between wheezes. "Punch me."

"Draco, no," Harry argued. "You're in no condition..."

"Do it!" Draco ordered.

"No," Harry protested, trying to talk Draco into sitting down.

"Do it!" Draco screamed at him.

Harry was still shaking his head, talking as though trying to calm a tantrum out of him.

"Hermione is nothing but a filthy little mudblood," Draco etched out, "and your mother was nothing more than a mudblood who-"

But Draco didn't have to go any further. Harry hauled off and punched him squarely in the nose. Draco didn't feel a thing. Instead, Harry's nose erupted in pain, blood leaking out and running red rivers down his shirt. Harry's mind grappled desperately with the situation just as Madam Pomfrey came tearing down on them.

"Boys! You will stop fighting immediately! Mr. Malfoy, back to bed this instant!" Her voice had become quite brittle as she shouted at them. "Mr. Potter, get out! Go to class! And I will not give either of you anything. Barbaric fighting! Go!"

Harry turned and fled the hospital wing in a wave of confusion. He arrived at the door of his class still holding his nose. Blood flowed freely from his nostrils and he was beginning to taste it in his mouth. What had just happened? Things had been going so well with... Malfoy the hated git-face. Harry's mouth formed a hard line. He was utterly baffled. Malfoy had wanted for Harry to hit him. He had goaded him into it, but why? Why?

Harry was still standing in the hallway when the class let out and students began to empty from the classroom. Hermione gasped when she saw his bloody face. She and Ron hurried over to where Harry stood shaking.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione demanded. She pulled a handkerchief from inside her robe and began mopping his face with it. Harry winced when she got near his nose, so she gave him the cloth and let him do it.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled. Harry finished cleaning up his face and muttered, "We'd better hurry. Don't want to be late for our next class."

It was lunchtime before he had a chance to explain it to them. Ginny, Hermione and Ron sat across from him, listening intently as he told the story.

"I don't understand," Hermione said, frowning.

"What's not to understand?" Ron snapped in exasperation. "Malfoy insulted you and Harry's mum. He couldn't bloody well just sit there!"

He turned to Harry. "He's lucky you just punched him. You could've really hurt him if you'd used magic."

"That's just it, Ron," Harry exhaled in frustration. "I didn't hurt him at all! We hurt ourselves!"

"Yes, you keep saying that, Harry," Hermione said patiently. "But what on earth does that mean?"

"Hermione, you know earlier when you said I opened an empathetic connection between myself and Malfoy from the poison?" Harry said. "Well, I think it opened a physical one as well."

"Well, that's not possible, Harry," Hermione said, exchanging a worried look with Ginny. "I asked you if you'd had any fluid transfers with Malfoy and you said no. You said you were sure you didn't have any open cuts... the only other way is..."

She stopped a moment, paling slightly as she asked, "You, erm, didn't spit in his mouth, did you, Harry?"

Harry halted, thinking at once of the deep kiss he and Draco had shared. Keeping his face as blank as possible he said, "Yes. Yes, I did."

"That's disgusting!" Ginny wailed. Ron started laughing uncontrollably.

"Wish I could've seen the look on his face," Ron said.

No, you don't, Harry thought, trying to keep a straight face.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said ruefully. "You really shouldn't have done that."

As soon as dinner was over with, Harry hurried up to the sick ward in search of Draco. He found him lying in bed wearing green silk pajamas. His mouth was open in a thoughtful "o" as he filled in his puzzle.

"Hallo," Harry said uncertainly. Draco looked up.

"Hullo." It was a sullen greeting at best.

"I came to apologize for...for what I said before," Harry said.

Draco sighed. "I suppose you expect me to apologize as well."

He turned a lazy gaze on Harry and waited. Harry responded with a small smile, saying, "No, actually, I don't. I know what you were doing. I know you didn't mean it, you just wanted me to hit you...you know, to see if you could feel it."

"How do you know I didn't mean it?" Draco asked indifferently, twirling his quill between his fingers.

"Well, for starters, you said "Hermione is" instead of "Granger is," and also..." Harry trailed off.

"What?"

"Well, it just didn't feel like you meant it," Harry said, adding, "It just felt like you were hurt and angry."

"All right, so my plan had a fatal flaw," Draco admitted. "But look, if you think we can forgive each other and move on-"

"I do!" Harry interrupted earnestly.

"You'd be wrong," Draco finished. Harry looked pained. Draco made an irritated noise at him and said, "Look, you and I have been enemies forever. You think that'll just go away overnight? One way or another, we're bound to end up hurting each other. I mean, look what you did to my father."

"I didn't do anything to your father!" Harry interjected, rapidly losing his temper.

"Calm down, will you? Let me say this and really listen to me, all right?" Draco was obviously upset. Harry closed his mouth and sat with his arms crossed, listening grudgingly. Draco went on, "Like it or not, you're the reason my father was sent to Azkaban."

"He was the reason, not me."

"Will you quit that? Listen, regardless of whatever else he may have done, he is still my father and I'm always going to love him." Draco stopped. "I don't know if you can understand that. You look at him and all you see is a hateful, vile man who tried to hurt you. But he loves me. And...I think he knows how I feel about you. I think he really wouldn't hurt you because he knows that. Last summer he told me I was obviously smitten with you. I tried to laugh it off, but I think he and I both know the truth. I know you can't see it in him, but he is my father. Imagine how you'd feel if you found out something really awful about your dad. It might hurt to know that awful thing, but you wouldn't really feel any differently, would you? You'd still love him, wouldn't you?"

Draco waited while Harry sat pensively in the wooden chair. Draco exhaled sharply. "Fine. I wouldn't expect you to understand."

But Harry was sitting there, thinking about the memory he'd seen in Snape's pensieve. The one that had shown in his own father in a less than glorious light. And Sirius, whom he'd admired so... Tears pricked at his eyelids, but Harry blinked them back and looked up at Draco.

"I understand," he said finally. "I really do. He's your dad and of course you love him. But that doesn't mean that I have to."

"No..." Draco said musingly. "But I wonder if it will always be a point of contention."

"Well, if you're planning to join him and his Death Eaters, I'd say that'd be a huge stumbling block in our relationship," Harry said acidly.

"Yes, well, then what? I'm being asked to choose between my family and..." Draco seemed to search for the right word, finally settling on, "you."

"Not much of a choice, is it?" Harry bit out bitterly.

"You don't understand," Draco said in frustration. "It's not just my family, it's everything that goes with it. I mean, if I actively come out on your side, well, half the Slytherins will try to murder me in my sleep. I'll definitely be disowned and my inheritance will disappear. Frankly, Harry, I'm not sure I'm ready to be poor and disinherited just to indulge my gayest fantasies."

Harry's mouth quirked. "Draco, you are some kind of freak, you know that? The things you worry about are absolutely idiotic! Why aren't you worried that Voldemort's going to kill me? Or you, for that matter?"

Draco started laughing. "I will concede your point, but I cannot deny that I'm accustomed to certain things that I cannot get while living in a cardboard box."

"Well, then you're in luck," Harry said, standing up. He came to Draco's bedside and said pointedly, "In fact, you're making a rather strong case in my favor."

"Am I?"

"Sure," Harry grinned. "I'm rich, after all, and baby, if you stick with me, I'd love to give you everything your heart desires."

"You know, I think you're supposed to be down on one knee for that kind of speech," Draco pointed out.

"Shut up," Harry said. He leaned down and brushed his lips against Draco's. He straightened up and looked into Draco's slate blue eyes.

"You're very bold today, aren't you?"

"Gryffindor courage," Harry shrugged. "Really, though, can't you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Draco considered it for a moment. "I already have. I'm still plenty mad, but I forgive you."

"That's very magnanimous of you," Harry said, pushing Draco slightly so he could sit down next to him on the bed. "See, now isn't this better?"

"Mm," Draco murmured, running his fingers through Harry's hair, "much."

Harry leaned his head against Draco's chest and listened to his heart. His voice thrummed through him, causing Harry to snuggle even more contentedly against him.

"Did you hear what I said?" Draco said, poking him.

"What? No," Harry confessed. "Was it important?"

"No, we'll figure it out tomorrow, I guess."

"What?"

"How we're going to see each other."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, straightening a bit. Draco smirked down at him.

"I mean, tomorrow's my last day in the nursery," he said. "I get to go back to my own bed. And my delightful Egyptian cotton sheets. Far superior to these scratchy things that pass for bed linens."

"My God, you are such a snob," Harry said. He ducked as Draco swung his pillow around toward Harry's head.

"I can't be faulted for having excellent taste."

"Is that a compliment to me?" Harry teased.

Draco took Harry's face in both his hands and kissed him thoroughly.

"You bet it is."

All day Friday Harry danced on the edge of his seat, thinking about nothing other than when he and Draco could be together again. It was Draco's last day in the infirmary and Harry was a little more than anxious as to where and how they would be able to see each other now. When classes finally ended for the day, Harry practically ran up to the infirmary and arrived breathlessly to find Draco packing up his get-well cards and candies.

"Hi," he said.

Draco turned and smirked at Harry's wind-swept look. He glanced over Harry's shoulder to be certain they were alone before commenting, "Breathless; it's a good look for you."

He cocked his head and Harry came to him, letting Draco give him a quick kiss. "Do you need help?"

"Crabbe and Goyle'll be here any minute to see to my things," Draco said. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Do you have to have your lackeys do everything for you?" he asked.

"No," Draco replied wickedly. "Some things I save just for you."

Harry's remark died on his tongue as Crabbe stepped inside and said, "What're you doing here?"

"He came to help me with my things," Draco answered, "but I told him I wouldn't dare trust a Gryffindor with such valuable objects."

Harry snorted. Goyle picked up a stack of items and followed Crabbe out the door. He turned at the threshold and called, "You coming, Draco?"

"Yeah," Draco said to them. He turned to go, walking backwards toward the door as he whispered to Harry, "Tonight, ten o'clock, outside Slytherin."

And then Draco winked at him. Harry grinned. He would be there. No matter what kind of lies he had to tell Hermione and Ron, Harry was definitely going to keep this date. He walked off toward Gryffindor with a smile on his face.

Around nine o'clock, and just when Harry was trying to come up with a decent fib to tell his dearest friends, Hermione approached him and asked how he was.

"We're going to the library..." Hermione said, casting a look over her shoulder at Ron. "You don't want to come, do you?"

"No," Harry said immediately, thankful he would not have to invent anything for the moment. Hermione for some reason looked immensely relieved. Ron gave him a friendly wave as they departed through the portrait hole. Harry, having an hour to kill, decided to go up to his room and change his shirt. Then he combed his hair. It still looked unruly, but in an organized rebellious sort of way. Then he changed his shirt again. Then he decided he was being ridiculous, I mean, it was Malfoy after all, and why was he getting so worked up?

Because, Harry thought to himself as he pulled his invisibility cloak out of his trunk, I'm falling in love with Draco. I'm in way over my head, and changing my shirt is the only logical thing I can think of at all. He was still a half-hour early, but Harry decided he couldn't wait any longer. He walked out of Gryffindor without having to worry that anyone could see him. For the millionth time, he was grateful for that cloak. He walked slowly through the deserted hallways, wondering what other kids were doing on Friday night. The thought that the astronomy tower was probably packed did cross his mind, but he kept walking. He very nearly collided with Professor Snape coming out of the dungeon, but thankfully they missed each other. Harry waited, pressed up against the wall, letting the cold seep through him, sending a chill down his spine. When at last Draco stepped through the portrait hole, he blew Harry away. Handsome was a severe understatement as his appearance made Harry's breath hitch in his throat.

"Eep," Harry managed finally. Draco turned toward the sound.

"Potter?"

Harry shrugged off the invisibility cloak with a grin. "You look great."

Draco arched a perfect eyebrow and pursed his pouty lips. "Put it back on. You don't want to get beat up, do you?"

Harry didn't ask questions, just pulled the hood of his cloak up and sealed himself in invisibility. He followed Draco down the hallway and up the stairs. He whispered, "Where're we going?"

"Prefect lounge," Draco whispered back with a grin. "This time of night it'll be deserted."

Harry followed Draco to the proposed destination and waited while Draco gave the password, then, with a frown, pulled out his wand and said, "Alohomora."

The door opened and Draco stepped through. He immediately saw the reason the door had been locked.

"Oh, sorry," he said, backing up and running into Harry. "We didn't know anyone was--Weasley?"

"Malfoy!"

"Ron!"

"Harry!"

"Hermione!"

Draco doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach as he rocked with snickers. He was laughing so hard that when he finally stopped, he had to wipe a tear of mirth from his eye.

"Well," he said, grinning broadly at the shocked trio. "I guess that takes care of introductions, doesn't it?"

He started in on another round of chuckles while the three of them stared around at each other. Hermione was hiding behind Ron, her cheeks a very fetching shade of pink. Draco regained himself and said politely, "Granger, what a lovely blouse!"

"Thanks, Malfoy, mind tossing it to me?"

Draco picked up the shirt and threw it; Ron caught it and passed it to Hermione whom he was shielding. Draco, trying hard not to laugh anymore, pushed Harry backward out the door. "We'll just leave you alone."

"No!" Hermione said, pulling her shirt closed. "We were just leaving. You two can...by the way, what are you two doing down here?"

"I might ask you the same thing," Harry said quickly. Ron went even redder.

Hermione, her shirt improperly buttoned, but otherwise covering the essentials, stood up. "We were going to tell you, Harry. Honestly. Oh, bugger it all."

"Uh huh," Harry said, staring curiously at them.

"You're not...mad, are you Harry?" Ron asked tentatively.

"No!" Harry said immediately. "No, I think it's...it's great."

Hermione and Ron smiled in relief. Hermione took Ron's hand and led him toward the door, saying, "Look, you two stay here and I swear, we will NEVER ask what you were doing in here, provided you promise us one thing."

"And what, pray tell, would that be?" Draco said, never inclined to make promises.

"Stay out of the prefects' bathroom on the third floor for the next hour or so." She dragged Ron away and Harry barely heard him whispering that he couldn't believe she'd said that. Harry just stared after them, the invisibility cloak hanging half-off, causing his legs to disappear when he moved. Draco shoved him through the door and locked it after them. He still looked as though he might be overcome with a giggle fit at any moment, but for now, was managing brilliantly to contain himself.

Harry cast the cloak over the back of a chair and sank down onto the couch, still moderately shocked at what he'd just witnessed.

"Well," Draco said, settling in beside him. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, great," Harry said wanly. "I've just walked in on my two best friends snogging."

"Yeah, that must be a shocker," Draco said. "I can imagine how I'd feel if Crabbe and Goyle started going at it in front of me."

"Uck," Harry said. "Thanks for that image in my head."

"Well, let me replace it with something better," Draco said, leaning forward to kiss Harry. Harry let him, finding it effectively squelched all other thoughts coming into his head until there was only one. He wrapped his arms around Draco and pulled him closer, kissing him till they couldn't breathe.

"Whoa," Draco said, smoothing at his tousled hair. "I've been out of it for a week, remember? Let me rest a bit."

"I never thought I'd hear you say something like that," Harry told him, watching Draco settle into the corner of the couch. Harry lay down alongside him, snuggling into Draco's chest. Draco's arm came around him as they shifted into a comfortable position. Draco's hand came up to stroke Harry's hair, running his fingers lightly over Harry's scalp. Harry shivered deliciously and Draco pulled him close, planting a kiss directly over Harry's scar.

Harry was startled. The rare gesture was highly intimate and caught Harry off-guard. He brought his mouth to Draco's and ran his tongue along the other boy's lips.

"How long have you..." Harry broke off, not knowing how to finish his sentence.

"What?" Draco said, his eyes closed as his fingers returned to feathering Harry's hair.

"Do you...are you..."

"Bollocks, today, Harry, spit it out."

"Are you in love with me?"

Draco's eyes opened and regarded Harry carefully. "Yes."

There was an agonizing moment of silence. Harry considered his words carefully. "Oh. For how long?"

Draco exhaled a long, almost painful sigh before admitting very quietly, "A little over a year now. You?"

"I don't really know," Harry said thoughtfully. "I didn't really realize it until that thing bit you. But I think maybe for awhile. I mean, it's appalling how much time I spent thinking about you if I didn't like you."

"You think about me?" Draco asked softly.

"Yes."

"What do you think about?"

"This." Harry kissed him, softly and sweetly on the mouth, his fingers mussing Draco's platinum hair and getting lost there. Harry pressed closer to Draco, his mouth warm and soft on Draco's lips. His tongue explored Draco's mouth, languidly memorizing its territory. Harry sighed contentedly and lay back in the cradle of Draco's arms.

"Tomorrow's Saturday," Harry said. "We're playing Ravenclaw at Quidditch. Are you going to come and, erm, watch?"

"You mean, watch you?" Draco smirked incorrigibly at him. "I'd like to, but I'm afraid I can't."

"No?" Harry tried not to look too disappointed.

"No, the ten potions I'm taking make me too vulnerable to the sunlight," Draco said. "I've got to stay out of it for the rest of the week until the course of potions is completed."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, what about after?"

"I'm all yours."

Harry ducked his head so Draco wouldn't see the very big grin on his face, but Draco tilted up his chin and looked into his eyes. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but after a long moment, he just kissed Harry softly on the lips and closed his eyes, and let time slip away.

On Saturday morning, having crept up to bed sometime after one, Harry woke up with a slight stiffness in his neck. He sat up, stretching, and glanced over at Ron's bed. He looked in shock at Ron, who was still asleep and tangled in a cocoon of blankets. His friend was snoring blissfully. Harry tossed his pillow over and hit Ron in the head with it.

"Hm, wha?" Ron said through the muffle of covers. He pulled the pillow up and threw it back at Harry. "Is it morning already?"

His face held a sleepy smile and Harry said to him, "Come on, get up. We've got that match against Ravenclaw today."

"Oh, right," said Ron, sitting up and rubbing his face with his hands. "You were out late. What time did you get in?"

"Do you really want to go down this road?" Harry asked, casting him a sidelong glance. Ron, remembering last night's confusion in the prefect lounge, hastily shook his head no. Harry grinned at him and said, "Come on, let's just get ready for the match."

At the breakfast table, Harry watched in fascination as Ron and Hermione took seats next to each other and went on about their morning as usual. He wondered just how long their relationship had been conducted under his nose. Ginny was sitting beside him poking her eggs with her fork. He wondered if she knew about it. He considered asking her, but decided it would have to wait.

Draco didn't show up for breakfast (Harry knew because he kept sneaking glances at the Slytherin table), and Harry didn't get a chance to seek him out before it was time for the match. Instead he tried to focus all his thoughts and energies on the Quidditch game.

It was a sensationally sunny day, bright and warm with a slight breeze that added extra fluff to Harry's hair. He ordered himself not to search the stands for Draco, knowing very well that the other boy would not be in attendance. Instead he watched as Cho Chang mounted her broom and floated up to eye level with him.

She was beautiful, yes, but in the way that artwork was beautiful, or flowers in a vase were pretty. Up close she was just dots and petals and beauty did not a whole love make. Harry realized he was very glad that things hadn't worked out with her, for lots of reasons.

Draco made the top of that list.

He circled the pitch, searching for the snitch and occasionally glancing at Ron to see how he was blocking. Ron's game had improved considerably over the last year and Harry was proud of him. On the whole, since Umbridge had been ousted, the Gryffindor team was functioning more as a unit. They had some really excellent players, including Ginny, and Harry always felt a surge of pride when he saw his team assembled together in their Quidditch gear.

A flash of gold on the far side of the pitch caught Harry's attention. Ducking low, he sizzled toward the snitch, flying with unequaled speed and grace. Cho must've spotted it, too, because she turned and began making a beeline for the opposite end of the field. Leaning flat against his broom, Harry chased down the tiny winged ball. It surged upward suddenly, caught in a draft of wind and Harry zoomed toward it. It dipped down again and he abruptly changed direction. Diving down, down, down, Harry finally felt his fingers closing around the small, struggling snitch. From nowhere a bludger flew past, knocking the tail of his broom and sending him into a dizzying spin. He heard his name being called; the announcement that Gryffindor had won. That was the last thing Harry heard before the ground reached up to greet him.

He landed with a spectacular crash, feeling a horrific surge of pain rush through his leg right to the bone. That leg had broken his fall, and was crushed under him as he gripped the snitch and waited for his head to clear. He lolled back against the grass as Madam Hooch and Ginny rushed to his aid. The Quidditch coach slowly rolled him over and pulled out his injured leg.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked roughly, surveying him for damage. Harry, panting, tried to answer.

"My...leg," he said, sitting up. "But it's feeling better."

"Are you sure?" Ginny asked. "It looked as though you might've broken it."

Harry stood with their assistance and tested his weight on the offended calf. "Nope. It's fine."

Madam Hooch was shaking her head. "You're very lucky. I would definitely have expected more damage than that, considering the height you fell from."

The cheering Gryffindors had rushed upon him at that point and Harry was borne away by the crowd.

"It's very odd, Harry," Ginny shouted at him over the din. "You sure it doesn't hurt?"

"Not a bit!" he replied. A sinking thought caught him suddenly and dragged him downward. Harry quickly shoved the snitch into Ginny's hands and said, "Sorry."

He ran off in the direction of the castle, his mind thinking only one thought: Must find Draco. He sprinted downstairs to the dungeons and was just in time to see Draco Malfoy perform a Technicolor wonder on the cold stone floor.

"Draco!" Harry shouted with total disregard for everything else. He rushed down to where Draco was shaking, leaning against the wall as blood poured out of his leg. The bone was definitely broken and Harry could see it protruding sickeningly through the skin. He magicked away the mess and put his arm around Draco.

"We'll never make it to the hospital wing at this rate," Harry said desperately after a few minutes of meager hobbling.

"Thanks," Draco said corrosively. "That's very reassuring."

"Does it hurt very bad?"

"Shut up, will you?" Draco demanded through clenched teeth. "If you don't mind, I'm really trying hard not to think about it."

"Right," Harry agreed. "Sorry."

"What happened anyway?" Draco wanted to know. "You fall off your broom like an idiot?"

"Sort of," Harry admitted.

"We've really got to do something about this," Draco informed him grimly.

"I've got Hermione researching it," Harry said promptly.

"Good," Draco told him, "because when I shag you, I want to feel you, not me."

This was an interesting and delightful thought for Harry and he would've savored it more had Draco not thrown up at that point. They paused for a moment so that Draco could rest while Harry got rid of the mess. Rather unexpectedly, Draco began sniggering.

Fearing Draco had gone around the bend, Harry asked warily, "What's so funny?"

"You know, it just occurred to me that if I wanted to do Voldemort the biggest favor in the world, all I'd have to do is commit suicide," Draco said. Harry stiffened.

"I fail to see the humor in your murdering me," he said.

"Oh, come off it," Draco said, getting up again. Harry put his arm around him and listened as Draco panted through his next sentence. "I mean, if I really wanted to kill you, I'd have done it by now, wouldn't I?"

"What? You mean you aren't waiting for your father to order you to do it?" Harry said rather testily.

"I thought we agreed to leave my father out of it," Draco said tightly. "Besides, what do you think? That he writes me letters saying, "Dear son, Kudos on your perfect score in potions. How are you fixed for potpourri? PS, please kill Harry Potter. Love, Dad." Gah, honestly!"

He threw up again, effectively cutting off any comment Harry could have come up with. Harry realized that conversing with Draco was sapping his strength, so they went on in silence.

After a few moments more of struggling, Harry said, "Do you want me to carry you?"

Draco swore a string of rather interesting phrases, most of which involved the son of a motherless whore.

Then he vomited again. Harry magically cleaned it up and asked, "Does she have a name?"

"Who?" Draco panted, beginning to sweat from the combination of effort and pain.

"The motherless whore."

Draco tried to smile, but couldn't muster it. Fortunately for both of them, Professor Snape came around the corner at that exact moment. He took one look at Draco and demanded to know what had happened.

"It's a long story, sir," Draco said wanly. "I'd really like to get to Madam Pomfrey's first, if you don't mind."

"Fine," Snape said; he raised his wand. A second later he was carrying an unconscious Draco Malfoy upstairs in his arms. Harry continued to dog his steps until Snape turned on him and hissed, "If you keep following me, it'll be fifty points from Gryffindor."

Harry swallowed a tart remark and forced himself to remain on that spot, not moving until Snape was out of sight with Draco. When they were gone, Harry ran up to the tower, intent on showering and changing and being back down at the infirmary before Draco had the chance to miss him.

He was intercepted by Ron, Hermione, and Ginny when he came into the common room. They confronted him at once.

"What happened?" Hermione demanded. "Ginny said that fall you took was something awful. We all saw it; you ought to have broken your leg."

"I know," Harry said worriedly. "But I...Draco..."

"Draco's leg is broken?" Hermione said quickly. Harry nodded, a dull lump sitting in his throat. Hermione sucked in a breath. "Oh, God, Harry. This is much worse than I thought. We've got to go to Dumbledore."

Harry bit his lip, hating to do it, but knowing she was right. Ron and Ginny nodded at him encouragingly. Hermione turned to them. "We've got to keep this to ourselves. If word gets out, well, Death Eaters will show up to collect Draco before you can say, "alohomora." They'll kill them both."

Hermione agreed to run ahead and find the headmaster while Ron, Ginny and Harry changed out of their sullied Quidditch robes. The three of them dashed off to their dormitories, the lump in Harry's throat growing larger by the minute. When they emerged downstairs less than a quarter of an hour later, Hermione was waiting for them.

"I can't find Dumbledore anywhere," she said worriedly. "I'm just about to go and look for Professor McGonagall."

"Yes?" Their transfiguration professor came down the staircase holding a book under her arm. "What can I do for you?"

"Er...do you know where Professor Dumbledore has gone?" Hermione asked. McGonagall glanced at their worried faces and hesitated before responding.

"He's been called away," she said at last. "But perhaps I could help you?"

Hermione looked back at Harry for guidance. He gave her a quick nod and Hermione looked back to Professor McGonagall.

"Shall we go to my office?"

Much relieved, Hermione agreed on the foursome's behalf. Safely locked inside McGonagall's office, Hermione began to tell the story, leaving Harry to fill in the rest. The deputy headmistress's face went very white as they continued. They explained about Harry's bloody nose and Draco's broken leg. McGonagall looked for all the world as if she could barely fathom what they were telling her.

"You're sure its not some coincidence?" she asked when they were through. "What does Madam Pomfrey say about it?"

"I was on my way to tell her," Harry said, "when Professor Snape took Draco and told me to go away."

It didn't sound quite right in his ears, but the words were already out, so he simply waited soberly for McGonagall to say something. She stood and moved briskly to the office door. "We must get down to the infirmary immediately. If what you say is accurate, we cannot let Draco Malfoy leave the protection of this school for any reason. Come along, quickly."

She ushered the four of them out into the hallway and strode quickly along the corridors to the infirmary. Professor Snape was looking on as Madam Pomfrey mended Draco's wound. He was still unconscious, a feat that he was probably grateful for. Harry looked on anxiously, wishing Madam Pomfrey would hurry up. When she finally finished her methodical work, a half an hour had elapsed.

"Poppy," McGonagall began quietly. "These students have something they wish to tell you about Mr. Malfoy's injuries."

"I'll be interested to hear this as well," Snape hissed through his teeth. He folded his arms staunchly across his chest and waited, his brooding eyes resting heavily upon Harry. Harry took a gulp and started in on the story for the second time that day.

Madam Pomfrey had gone entirely pale. Snape's face was puckered in what appeared to be anger. He demanded of Harry, "Why didn't you come to Madam Pomfrey at once, the moment you knew what had happened?"

"I...I...I don't know, sir," Harry stammered, trying to recall a reason, if there had ever been one.

"Severus," McGonagall said. "This is very serious. We will have to proceed cautiously. No one can get near Mr. Malfoy. Under no circumstances should he be allowed to leave the school grounds until this matter is sorted out."

"Of course, you're right," Snape said coolly, "however, it may be out of our hands."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I have already sent word to his parents."

"How could you?" Harry shouted at him. Professor McGonagall held up a warning hand that silenced him.

"Under rule 114 in the school guidelines, parents must be notified immediately of serious injuries. I did so when the bat bit him, and I've done so now." Snape stood thoughtfully in the sliver of light crossing the doorway. "This is most unfortunate, for I do not see how we can prevent them from removing him from the school if they so choose."

He strode out of the infirmary with a swish of his robes, leaving them all behind to worry.

"Oh, Professor," Hermione nearly whimpered, twisting her hands together. "What are we going to do?"

"I'll tell you what we're going to do," Professor McGonagall said, drawing herself up. "Professor Snape has been analyzing the malanabat's poison. Perhaps he's found something that will be useful in reversing the enchantment. Harry, you run down to his office and ask him to bring up anything useful to the infirmary. I've no doubt that's what he's doing now, but you offer to help him and for Merlin's sake, don't do anything to irritate him."

Harry nodded. McGonagall continued, "Ron, you get up to the owlery and send word to Dumbledore that he is desperately needed back at the school. Make sure he understands that the lives of two of his students are in grave danger. Hermione, you get down to the library. Ask Madam Pince for anything in the restricted section on hybrid magical creatures, bat toxins or anything she thinks might be useful in regards to reversing Malanabat poison. And Ginny, you stand outside that infirmary door and don't let anyone else in except those whom I've mentioned. If the Malfoys show up or anyone else says they want to see Draco, you head them off. Distract them, lie to them, shove a filibuster firework up their nose, take off your blouse, I don't care what you have to do, but whatever it is, you keep them away from him. Madam Pomfrey will stay here and do her best to care for him until we return. Poppy?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded affirmatively. "I'll get some healing potions down; perhaps I can find something among them."

"What are you going to do Professor?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

McGonagall's face was a thin line when she answered. "I'm going up to Dumbledore's office. Now, go. GO!"

They all scattered, each running in different directions for their appointed tasks. Harry turned and gave Ginny a last wave, noticing she had her wand clutched in her hand, ready for anything.

Gah, Harry thought to himself. If anyone had told him a week ago that four Gryffindors would be jealously guarding the life of Draco Malfoy, he would have recommended psychological therapy to that person. He hurried off to the dungeons in search of Professor Snape. He found the man clinking around in his storeroom.

"Potter," he sneered when he saw Harry. "Don't just stand there, make yourself useful. Carry these vials. And be careful!"

He snapped, making Harry jump. Harry cautiously loaded his arms with the small bottles, watching as Snape loaded a small box with more of the same. They headed back up to the infirmary, making slow progress despite Snape's repeated threats to dock house points for dawdling. Hermione came hurrying out ahead of them burdened with an armload of books. Snape caught her heaviest tome when it slid off the top of the pile.

"Careful, Miss Granger," he murmured, taking the book and sliding it into the crook of his arm. Hermione gave him thankful look and hastened onward. Neither Ron nor McGonagall had returned by the time Snape, Harry and Hermione got back into the sick ward. Ginny let them slip past, unconsciously biting her fingernails to nubs as she kept her vigilant watch for interlopers.

"Is he any better?" Harry asked worriedly. Madam Pomfrey shook her head. "It's still too soon."

Snape cursed himself silently for following the rules. It would be his fault if anything were to happen to his prized pupil. He looked at Harry and asked pointedly, "Why did you feel it necessary to keep this burden to yourself? Had you but trusted your elders, Mr. Malfoy's life might not be endangered at this very time."

"Yes, sir," Harry said miserably. He knew the truth, though. Snape was only lashing out at him because he felt just as responsible as Harry did. Snape sighed.

At that moment Professor McGonagall came through the door carrying Fawkes the phoenix in her arms. The bird made a soft cooing noise when he saw Harry.

"Hey, there, Fawkes," Harry said softly, petting the bird's head. Fawkes settled on Harry's shoulder and Harry brought him closer to where Draco lay. "This is my friend, Draco. Can you help him?"

The phoenix was magnificent, and Harry always wondered if he was intuitive or if he really did understand what was being said to him. In either case, Fawkes hopped down onto the bed, laid down on Draco's broken leg, and began to weep. Harry felt relief washing over him. He knew firsthand the immense healing properties of Phoenix tears. He was grateful now, once again, for the beautiful gift Fawkes so generously gave.

Hermione sat in a corner, reading by lamplight. Madam Pomfrey had extinguished most of the lamps, hoping they would draw less attention with fewer lights on. Ron came through the door carrying Harry's invisibility cloak and broom. He was out of breath from running. He arrived just in time to see Draco waking slowly from his lethargic state.

"Mm, what happened?" he asked. Harry wondered how, even now, Draco managed such elegant speech patterns, as though he could enunciate perfectly with a plum in his mouth. Thanks to the combination of phoenix tears and the potions Madam Pomfrey had administered, Draco's broken leg was nearly mended.

"What'd you get those for?" Harry asked Ron, indicating the invisibility cape and broom.

Ron screwed up his face and said, "I don't know why. I was on my way back from the owlery when I just thought you'd need them."

Ron leaned the Firebolt against the wall and waited pensively with the rest of them.

"Hermione, dear, anything useful?" McGonagall asked hopefully.

"Not exactly," Hermione said morosely.

"What is it?" All eyes turned toward Hermione expectantly.

"There is only one way to break the connection," she said darkly. "They both have to die."

"Well, isn't that cheerful?" Ron said. "I finally get rid of Malfoy, but Harry has to go with him."

"Oh, Ron, don't joke," Hermione pleaded.

"I think it's an excellent idea," Snape said. Everyone turned horror-stricken faces on him. "Under controlled circumstances, that is. Once Dumbledore arrives, Poppy, we can administer the Drop o' Death. Stop their hearts beating just long enough, then revive them at once."

"No," Madam Pomfrey said with a grave face. "You know we can't do something like that here. They'll have to go to St. Mungo's."

She was whispering now, afraid. At that moment they heard Ginny's voice ring out loudly from the hallway.

"Mr. Malfoy, how good to see you!" she virtually shouted. The occupants of the infirmary exchanged terrified glances, Snape alone remaining calm.

"Quickly," Snape murmured so quietly that he could barely be heard as he strode to the window. "Potter, Draco, under the cloak and out on the ledge."

"Why do we have to get on the ledge?" Harry protested.

"Because," Snape seethed, "We can't risk you making noise."

Draco, hardly understanding what was happening, cautiously put weight on his newly healed leg. His head was swimming as he and Harry made their way onto the window ledge. Snape carefully shut and locked the window pane once more. From inside they could still make out Ginny's nigh onto hysterical conversation with Lucius Malfoy.

"What are you doing here, sir?" she said, nervous but polite.

"I'm here to see my son, Draco. What are you doing here?"

"Oh... I'm... I'm waiting to see my brother and his girlfriend," Ginny said, trying to cover her bases for why the two of them were in the infirmary.

"Really?" Lucius Malfoy said boredly.

"Yes," Ginny said, trying to come up with a suitable and interesting lie. "You see, he's gotten her pregnant and well, they're both in quite a bit of trouble. The headmaster's been called, and well...Professor Snape and the deputy headmistress are already in there."

"Really?" Lucius Malfoy's voice held a faint note of interest.

Inside the infirmary Snape grabbed Hermione's arm and forced her into Draco's recently vacated bed. He pulled the sheet up over her and whispered to her to play along. Hermione nodded fearfully. She didn't have to work up the act on morning sickness since she felt seriously ill at that point. Ron had gone completely white as he listened to Ginny's tale, mortified beyond belief that she could lie so blatantly, though secretly he was glad that Malfoy seemed to be buying it.

"They'll be expelled, of course," Lucius was saying. "It's only fitting."

"Of course," Ginny agreed with him, nodding wisely. "But I have to say, I do understand."

"What's that?" Lucius said, giving her a curious look.

"Oh, you know," Ginny said, unbuttoning her sweater. "Those feelings a woman gets when she sees a man she wants..."

He looked down at her, greatly amused. "And do you see a man you want?"

"Oh, yes," Ginny fibbed. "I mean, a man such as yourself...so handsome...so powerful...why, it's a wonder that any girl can contain her urges around you."

She was laying it on rather thick, so McGonagall rescued her from herself by opening the infirmary door and saying, "Ms. Weasley, you may come in now and comfort your brother while he awaits your parents' arrival. Good evening, Mr. Malfoy. What brings you here?"

If anyone was alarmed that Lucius Malfoy was out of Azkaban, no one was saying a word. Ginny ran in to Ron and hugged him tightly. They both moved closer to Hermione as Lucius Malfoy entered the room. Hermione was looking quite faint as Malfoy, senior came over to the bed.

"Well," he said, stroking one cool, gloved finger down her cheek. "It seems your filthy little impulses have gotten you into trouble. Such a pity."

"Don't you touch her," Ron said defensively. Lucius looked up in surprise.

"No," he said with amusement. "She's already been sullied; I would have no use for her."

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall interrupted. "What can we do for you?"

"I received a message saying that my son had broken his leg. Where is he?" His smooth voice hung like velvet in the air.

"He's down in his room," Snape lied baldly.

"But I got the message mere moments ago," Lucius said. "How could it have healed so quickly?"

"Naturally," Snape said, "he didn't want to be kept in the same room with the muggle-born girl. I saw no reason in prolonging his torment and allowed him to go back to his room. The break was, after all, not as severe as initially feared."

"Is that so?" Lucius seemed to be evaluating Snape's statement and weighing it for truth. He said, "Very well, take me to him."

"Of course," Snape said with a deferential bow of his head. "Right this way."

They all waited until the two men had gone completely before breathing again. Hermione found she was shaking all over. Perhaps it was the stress of the situation; perhaps it was the suggestion of expulsion that was causing her ashen complexion. Whatever the case, she lay down against the pillows and tried to relax. Professor McGonagall walked quickly to the window and unlocked it. Night had fallen and the chilly air was seeping through the sill.

"Boys," McGonagall whispered. "Come in."

Harry entered, following by Draco, as they dropped lightly from the window ledge. McGonagall spoke in soft tones. "I don't know where he'll go next. If the headmaster shows up, he'll likely demand to be taken to the office. I think perhaps Gryffindor tower is the safest place for you both now. Stay well hidden under the cloak, both of you and go straight to the boys' dormitory. Ron, Ginny, Hermione, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you'll have to stay here with Madam Pomfrey. I'm going down to the front to await Professor Dumbledore."

Concealed once more by the invisibility cloak, Harry and Draco huddled together as they hurried down the hallway. Harry held Draco's hand, finding his own palms clammy with anxiety. He was very relieved to arrive at the portrait hole, give the password and clamor through as fast as they both could move. Harry led Draco, still shielded under the cloak, through the common room and up the stairs to the boys' dorm. Together they climbed on Harry's bed. Draco waited under the invisibility cape while Harry drew the heavy red curtains, giving them a modicum of privacy.

"Well, Harry," Draco said with a smirk. "You've finally got me in your bed. Whatever will you do with me?"

Harry leapt on Draco, knocking him over and pinning the blond boy beneath him. Their hips bumped together as Harry kissed Draco desperately, as though it might be his last chance. When they broke from each other Harry whispered breathlessly, "Your father's here."

"He's here?" Draco inquired. He had been too preoccupied with not throwing up while they were on the ledge that he hadn't heard much of the conversation except Ginny's overly loud comments. "Why on earth are we up here? Is that why we were hiding on the ledge?"

Draco's face was reddening. "What do you mean in keeping me from him?"

"Please, Draco," Harry begged. "You can't leave the school with him. Voldemort will kill you. And Hermione's found a way maybe to free us from the enchantment...but we'll never get the chance if your dad turns you over to Voldemort."

Draco's mouth was taut as he said, "My father loves me. He is not going to sacrifice me. Besides, we don't know that he has any idea of our connection."

Draco stood up and Harry caught his arm, whispering fervently, "Where are you going?"

Draco yanked his arm away and said coldly, "I'm going to see my father."

Harry closed his eyes and listened to Draco's retreating footsteps; he couldn't bear to watch him go. It was a mistake and Harry felt it. Finally he got up to chase after Draco. He caught up with him in the hallway. Harry had the invisibility cape slung over himself and he tried to stop Draco by placing himself forcibly in the way.

"Get out of my way, Potter," Draco bit out.

"Listen to me, Draco and really hear me," Harry said. "Then if you still want to go see your father, I won't stop you."

Draco crossed his arms, but waited grudgingly while Harry talked. "You may be right. It may be that your father is only here out of concern for your welfare. If that's true, then as soon as he sees you, he'll know that you are all right and he'll have no need to ask you to leave school. After all, he didn't come at all when you were at your deathbed. I know that Professor Snape sent word about the Malanabat attack. But he didn't come then; why?"

Draco was silent. Harry went on, "As long as you don't leave Hogwarts, Dumbledore will keep you safe. Just please, don't go."

Harry caught Draco's hand in his and tugged him close, giving him a warm kiss on the lips. He hoped Draco understood his sincerity. When he let go, Draco was still standing rigidly in the hallway. Harry pulled up the invisibility cloak and waited. Draco strode off toward the dungeons. Alone in the hall, Harry hung his head and swore silently. He simply stood there, wondering what he should do. At last he decided to see if Professor McGonagall was still waiting at the entrance to the school; if she was, that meant Dumbledore still hadn't returned.

Harry kept invisible as he crept through the hallway. He could see Professor McGonagall pacing alone in the entry. A feeling of dread was settling low in his stomach as he set off to find Draco again. He started down to the dungeons. He hadn't gotten very far when he came upon Professor Snape lying on the floor, apparently unconscious. Harry dashed down to him and put his hand under the professor's head, helping him to sit up.

"Potter?" Snape said. Harry wondered what had happened to him. When he took his hand away, Harry's fingers were sticky with Snape's blood. Snape muttered, "They've gone to the roof."

Harry nodded as Snape's eyes closed again. He seemed to be trying to fight off something. Harry couldn't leave him there, but he also couldn't afford to leave Draco alone with his father for long. Making a split decision, Harry ran out to the entrance and fetched Professor McGonagall. He told her about Professor Snape's injury.

"Where are you going?" she asked, when Harry pulled up the invisibility hood again.

"Sorry, Professor, but I've got to get up to the roof," Harry said. He hurried to the spiral staircase that led to the rooftop. His feet stumbled on the stone steps in his haste to get upstairs. He got all the way to the trapdoor before realizing he'd never used this entrance to the roof before. He hoped it didn't have any loud squeaks or other unanticipated warning bells. Harry proceeded slowly nevertheless.

He lifted the trapdoor very slowly, revealing Draco's feet first, followed by a hint of Lucius Malfoy's boots as he stepped closer to his son. Harry stopped in mid-movement, listening to their conversation.

"You're very fortunate, Draco," Lucius was saying. "You have been chosen to fulfill a great purpose for the Dark Lord. You will be a legend among his followers."

"How will I do that?" Draco asked, his cool voice giving away nothing.

Lucius continued on silkily, "My son, when we released that Malanabat here at the school, we had hoped that it might be a Slytherin that would feel the effects, thereby culminating our research. After all, if the student belonged to one of our followers, it would be that much easier to bring the student under our protection so that we could...observe the results first-hand."

"Why didn't you just test it on yourselves?" Draco asked harshly.

"My son," Lucius hissed, "we're too busy fulfilling other needs. We cannot use ourselves for guinea pigs. But students..."

Draco was visibly upset, but said nothing. Lucius continued on, "When we got word that you were the student who had been bitten, it was a great honor for me, for us. I was about to collect you when I recalled something even more important to the Dark Lord. Harry Potter."

Lucius paused for a moment and a smile flickered across his face. "Your friend Goyle informed us that the magnificent Harry Potter was suddenly very interested in you. Yes, my son, your crush, and your excellent good looks, brought him directly into our web. For that, we owe you many thanks."

Draco had a rather bitter taste in his mouth and he didn't move, standing straight with his arms crossed over his proud chest. At last he said, "I don't understand. I haven't done anything to bring Harry to you."

"Yes," Lucius laughed quietly. "You did. Your charm brought him to your bedside, did it not? And somehow, though we aren't sure of the details, he entered into a fluid transfer with you- no, don't tell me the specifics- and sealed the enchanted bond, transferring pain and pleasure between you both."

Lucius was unabashedly delighted as he continued to tell the story to his son. "Our research was turning out even better than we had hoped. Not only were our experiments a success, but you, my son, had delivered Harry Potter to us."

Lucius took a step closer to Draco and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Now, you will have the greatest honor, Draco. You are going to kill Harry Potter."

"No, I'm not," Draco protested, trying to loosen his father's fingers from where they dug into his shoulder. "I'm not going to...how would I do that, anyway?"

"Why, by dying yourself, of course," Lucius said as though it were obvious. Draco paled suddenly.

"I am not going to kill myself, father," Draco said shortly.

"No," Lucius said hypnotically. "No. No, you won't have to. You're my son and heir. I love you, and I will help you to achieve this."

"Damn it, are you listening to yourself?" Draco said. "You really intend to murder me, your own son?"

"Draco," Lucius said patiently, "you must understand. Though I would never wish any harm to come to you, this is a magnificent honor for us. With the Dark Lord's help, I may have more heirs someday."

His finger reached out to stroke Draco's cheek as he said, "None will ever be like you. You are the very image of genetic perfection. I will always remember you."

"Father, stop it," Draco said, slapping Lucius's hand away. "Think of what you're saying. I'm your son, you can't kill me!"

"No, you're right," Lucius said. "The Dark Lord foresaw that it would be too painful for me kill you, but fortunately he is going to be here momentarily to help me through it, to give me the courage I need to do his bidding."

Draco was utterly petrified. "The Dark Lord is coming here?"

"I will be a vessel for His Worship to enter and fulfill your destiny," Lucius said.

He sank to his knees and began to mutter the spell that would allow Lord Voldemort to channel into him. Draco fought wildly to regain his father's attention, shouting, "You don't intend to let Voldemort possess you for the sole purpose of killing me? You're a weak-minded coward! Coward!"

But Lucius didn't answer. His eyes swam back into his head as he whispered to himself. Harry stared, bewildered, from his spot under the trapdoor. Voldemort was going to possess Lucius, thereby getting close enough to kill Draco and by association, Harry. Harry watched in horror as Lucius's eyes began to glow red and he slowly rose to a tall standing position from his enchanted slump. He moved toward Draco, who began pleading for his father to show some sense. Draco lunged toward the trapdoor, but Voldemort, in Lucius's body, was too quick for him. He grabbed Draco by the back of his shirt and forcibly dragged him to the edge of the roof. He hung Draco's head over the side and said to him, "You will be remembered always for your humble sacrifice."

"STOP!" Harry bellowed, throwing over the trapdoor. He had left his invisibility cloak on the top step and now climbed out onto the roof, the slight breeze ruffling his unruly hair.

Voldemort-in-Lucius turned toward him and his mouth twitched in what could only be a smile. "Well, well, well."

"You don't have to kill him," Harry said, willing himself not to shake as he took a step closer. "I'm right here. It's me you want; let him go."

Voldemort chuckled. "Well, your heroics know no bounds, do they, boy?"

His grip on Draco's shirt collar had loosened slightly, but he still held him close enough to push over the edge at any moment. Harry kept talking.

"You don't want him. Now that you've got me, you could kill me directly," Harry reasoned. "Why take the byway when you can take the express?"

He wasn't sure if Voldemort would understand that expression, but he seemed to be considering Harry's words.

"Come here," Voldemort said at last. "Come to me and I will consider letting him go."

"No, I'll only come if you promise to let him go."

Voldemort threw back his head and cackled, an ugly breaching sound that traveled up from hell to come out his mouth. Then he looked directly at Harry and purred, "I promise."

Well, it was an empty promise at best, and Harry knew it, but what choice did he have? He began to take a step toward Voldemort; Draco's voice halted him.

"No, Harry, don't," Draco said.

"Its no use, Draco," Harry said. "Either way he's got me. At least this way, he won't have you, too."

"Harry, please," Draco said, desperately trying to think of something. "You don't want to do this."

"If it means you'll survive, then, yes, I do," Harry said calmly. He came another step closer, praying that something, anything would come along to help them. Harry still had his wand and considered trying to stun Voldemort, but unfortunately, Draco was between them and Harry couldn't be sure he wouldn't hit Draco in the process. If he did that, Draco would surely fall to both of their deaths. Harry took another step.

"Unhand my student, please," a voice came from behind. Harry turned and watched in great relief as Dumbledore rose up from the trapdoor and shuffled out onto the rooftop.

"No," Voldemort said softly through Lucius's mouth. "I think I prefer not."

And with a violent shove, he sent Draco Malfoy plunging over the edge of the roof. Harry saw Draco's trainers disappear and lost control of every emotion at once.

"NO!" Harry screamed with every atom in his body. He lunged toward Voldemort, but Dumbledore held him back.

"Harry, go back into the school," Dumbledore ordered. Harry stood there, dumbly, waiting for the horrible inevitable crash that would end his life and Draco's. He waited, but it didn't come. He heard Dumbledore's voice again. "Hurry Harry, Professor McGonagall is waiting."

Dumbledore was standing between Harry and Voldemort now, and gave Harry a small push toward the trapdoor. Puzzled, Harry did as he was told and disappeared into the tower. Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and ran down the steps, wondering what on earth had happened to Draco and why he, Harry, was still alive.

He found Professor McGonagall and Ron struggling through the entryway under the weight of Draco's lifeless body. Ron carried Harry's broom in one hand and broke into a grin when he saw his best friend.

"What happened?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Well, Dumbledore showed up and told me to take the broom and wait outside the school, watching for falling objects," Ron said. "Pretty soon, along came Malfoy flying over the edge like an angel plummeting to earth."

"You caught him?" Harry said in awe.

Ron beamed.

"Then he's not-" Harry couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence.

"He's just fainted," Professor McGonagall said. "Anyone would under those circumstances. Come, help us get him to the infirmary."

They managed to get up to the infirmary and found Hermione and Ginny huddled together on the bed.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried out. "What on earth happened?"

Harry and Ron deposited Draco onto a nearby bed and Harry sank into a chair, his legs finally giving out on him. A moment later, Dumbledore came through the door carrying the limp body of Lucius Malfoy.

Professor Snape, who had been sitting quietly all this time, swung his legs over the edge of the bed on which he reclined.

"Voldemort has fled Mr. Malfoy's body, leaving him quite fatigued," Dumbledore said. "Severus, I wish you to accompany me while I take him St. Mungo's."

"Of course, headmaster," Snape said in his usual silky manner. The two of them departed, leaving the students alone with Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. Draco remained motionless on the bed. Harry found his hands were shaking. He licked his lips and turned toward his friends. A small tear escaped Hermione's eye and slid down her cheek. She and Ginny were still hugging each other, but disengaged on Madam Pomfrey's suggestion.

"I'll see to young Master Malfoy," she said gently. "Dumbledore has ordered the school closed. No one will be able to get in or out until he returns. You lot go and get some rest."

Madam Pomfrey began shooing them all out. Professor McGonagall gathered them together and led them back to Gryffindor tower. Once they were all safely back in the common room, Professor McGonagall regarded her weary students and let a smile soften her features.

"You all should get some well-deserved rest. Tonight was rather long, I think." She looked at each of them in turn before saying, "And I think, Fifty points to Gryffindor. You know why."

She smiled and all of them smiled back. She sent them off to their dormitories and they did as they were told, Harry and Ron bidding Ginny and Hermione good night before trudging up the staircase.

Once inside, Harry dropped his invisibility cloak inside his trunk and flopped down on the bed. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan came hurrying over flanked by the Creeveys and Neville Longbottom.

"What happened, Harry?" Neville asked. "You won't believe the strange rumors we've been hearing."

"Er, guys, we're really tired," Ron interrupted. "Mind if we tell you in the morning?"

The group broke up with only mild looks of disappointment. Harry smiled gratefully at Ron.

"Thanks," he said.

"Anytime."

Harry fell asleep the instant he closed his eyes.

He was awakened sometime later by Professor McGonagall standing at the foot of his bed calling his name. He gawked around groggily, trying to focus in the darkness.

"Come, Harry," she said quietly. "It's time."

Harry got out of bed and followed her along the quiet halls of Hogwarts as through drifting through a dream. He couldn't begin to imagine what she was talking about, but was moderately relieved when she led him to the infirmary. Professor Snape was waiting outside the door.

"I'll stand watch," Professor McGonagall said. Snape nodded and opened the door for Harry.

When Harry entered the sick ward, he found Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore already waiting for him. Two beds stood near one another, having been pushed thusly for tonight's activities. Draco lay quietly on one of them, his hands clasped over his chest. He opened his eyes when he heard Harry's voice.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Its time," Snape took great pleasure in telling him, "for you to die."

An involuntary shiver of fear spiked up Harry's spine and he took a step away from Snape in distress. Professor Dumbledore chuckled and said easily, "Come Harry, onto the bed. It will only last a moment. I promise you won't feel a thing."

Famous last words, Harry thought, easing himself up onto the bed. He didn't like the way Snape was glaring at him, so he shifted his eyes to Dumbledore instead.

"Sir?"

"It's all right, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Severus, Poppy. Let's begin."

Snape handed two small vials full of glowing mauve potion to Harry and Draco, saying, "Here. Drink all of this. Every drop."

Harry looked over at Draco who raised his potion and, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, said, "Bottoms up."

"Er, cheers," Harry said, wondering if anyone else read anything into Draco's comment. He quickly drank the fiery potion and lay down again to wait for its effects. Warmth flooded his body from the inside out, his eyes began to see nothing but hundreds of fluttering gold snitches, and then he was sinking, falling forever into a seeping darkness that slowly leeched the new heat from his bones, leaving behind nothing but the cold feeling of death.

The last few weeks of school before the holiday break were filled with absolute mayhem. Rumors were flying every which way and Harry wondered how on earth gossip could get around so thoroughly. He had suspicions that some of the portraits might be sharing more than they should, but all of it was to no avail anyway. He knew that Madam Pomfrey had only reluctantly agreed to administer the Drop o' Death after Dumbledore had said that they couldn't risk St. Mungo's because of the possibility of Death Eaters apparating into the hospital. Beyond that, the rumors were so convoluted that no one could tell fact from fiction. After he and Draco had been revived from their potion-induced comas, Snape had taken great pleasure in punching Harry in the nose, sending streams of blood flooding down onto Harry's shirt. Draco, true to himself, laughed and pointed at Harry, delighted to have felt no effects himself. The charm had been broken and both boys were free to be themselves once more.

Upon their release from the infirmary, Harry and Draco were mobbed by students wanting to hear all the details from the heroes themselves. Harry usually ducked out, but Draco could be found reenacting his brush with death in a rather overblown light. After one such media event, Ron sauntered over and said, "I notice how you keep leaving out the part where I caught you after you fainted like a girl and fell off the roof."

"Excuse me," Draco said haughtily, "but I did not fall or faint. I was rendered unconscious by the Dark Lord as he used the force of ten men to pitch me over the side like I was a pillow."

Ron guffawed and Draco looked at him seethingly. "Besides, I never thought I'd live to see the day when a Malfoy owed a life debt to a Weasley."

"Oh, Merlin, is that what happened?" Ron said, paling. "Well, in that case, I want no part of it."

"Oh, yes, you do," Draco said, making Ron squirm. "A Malfoy always makes good on his markers."

More interesting than the uneasy bond that was forming between Ron and Draco were the stories flying this way and that over Ginny's story to Lucius. Everyone in school had heard that Hermione was pregnant and despite her repeated attempts to assure everyone that it was a lie, the rumor perpetuated. The only part of the story that seemed to change was the paternity of her child. In a single week, Hermione had been romantically linked to Harry, Draco, Lucius, and even Professor Snape.

"Just think," Ron wailed piteously during Potions one day. "I'm the only one who hasn't been accused of fathering her child and I'm her boyfriend!"

"I'M NOT PREGNANT!" Hermione bellowed for the last time and stalked out of the classroom. Snape, having had enough of all the rumors, didn't even dock house points for the outburst.

After that, the matter shifted focus entirely, and Ginny appeared to be the new center of gossip. During the next week, she was said to have been pregnant by everyone from Harry, Sean, Dean, Justin, both Creevy brothers, Professor Snape, Hagrid, Lucius, and Dumbledore to finally, Draco. The ever-loving limelight hog, Draco took the opportunity to milk this rumor for all its worth by winking at Ginny across the dining hall, kissing her hand in the garden, and reciting love poetry to her from across the Quidditch pitch during practice. Ginny, having grown up with the twins, was no better, encouraging every rumor by blowing Draco kisses, owling him her bra, and sending Lavender Brown over to the Slytherin table to deliver "secret" love notes. They even went so far as to concoct a money-making scheme out of the gossip, getting Dennis Creevy and Pansy Parkinson to collect sickles for students to see a private showing of an illicit odeon of Ginny and Draco making out. Afterwards, Ginny and Draco had danced around the Gryffindor common room, their pocketfuls of sickles jingling like bells.

"Uh huh, uh huh," Draco said, giving Ginny a twirl so that her pleated skirt flared at her hips. They were smiling and laughing and Harry simply sat in shock as he watched the two of them gyrating around each other.

"You are both utterly incorrigible," he told them sternly.

"Oh, honey," Draco drawled, winking and tossing Harry a silver sickle. "Who d'you think spanks the devil when he misbehaves?"

At which point Harry leapt from his seat in a wild attempt to shove the sickle down Draco's throat. "Why does anyone even believe those rumors about you and Ginny? You're my boyfriend!"

"Ooh, possessive," Draco purred from underneath Harry. "I like it."

Harry just rolled his eyes and got off of Draco. Ron, meanwhile, was looking on at all of Ginny's spoils as she sat counting her coins merrily at the table.

"D'you think we could make that much if we made a film?" Ron asked Hermione.

She made a disgusted noise and flung her ink bottle at him, hitting him squarely in the forehead before flouncing off to the girls' dormitory.

"What?" he called after her, ink dripping down his face. Harry and Draco just laughed at him. They ducked when the empty ink bottle came their way.

After awhile, the rumors around them died down as students geared up for Christmas. Due to what had happened, the Order of the Phoenix was exceptionally busy and so Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Harry and Draco all ended up staying at school over the holidays. Harry didn't mind. In fact, in some ways it was very nice to have the school all to themselves.

On Christmas morning, he woke up in Draco's bed, wrapped warmly in the arms of his new lover. Draco smiled down at him. The Slytherin dorm had emptied out and so Harry had spent the night in Draco's bed. He decided that waking up with Draco was the best Christmas gift he could have gotten.

"Good morning," Draco said.

"Mm," Harry responded, snuggling closer into Draco's embrace. "I can already say that this is the best Christmas I've ever had..."

He grinned up at Draco wickedly, saying, "And Christmas Eve."

"Yes," Draco said, his inflection stirring Harry's heart. "That's definitely a tradition we've got to repeat."

"Yes," Harry agreed happily.

Draco extracted himself and began dressing. He tossed Harry his own shirt and said, "Come on. Don't want to miss breakfast, do you? Your friends will be looking for you."

Harry smiled, a warm genuine smile that lit up his face from within. Draco shook his head. "You know, you are positively adorable."

He grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him up for a kiss. Once they were both dressed, Draco and Harry made their way to the great hall where the remaining students and faculty were waiting. Squeezing Harry's hand quickly, Draco moved to open the door.

"Ooh, our first real adventure together," Draco said. "You sure you want to?"

Harry smiled at him again and gave Draco a light kiss on the mouth. "I won't let go."

They walked into the hall together and called out season's greetings to each other.

"Look, Harry," Ginny said, pointing upward. "You and Draco are under the mistletoe."

"Well," Draco said, grabbing Harry and dipping him vauntingly, "I always loved mistletoe."