Adamo Redamo

Adamo Redamo (1/?)

Chapter One

~Inside of me, Inside of You~

Biting, unseasonably cold winds slashed into the pale skin beneath his robes. Turning his eyes back to the parchment inside his hand, Draco Malfoy wondered what his father could have gotten on about with him this time. Darkness enveloped him, and he shivered at the complete...blankness of it. Emotionless, cold and unforgiving.

Somewhat like Lucius Malfoy himself, actually.

Cursing under his breath, Draco unconsciously wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chilly air. He had been instructed by Lucius to meet him on the Quidditch Pitch just after midnight. As it turned out, that meant 30 minutes after midnight. Finally, a black-robbed figure appeared on the opposite end of the pitch. Not that he was genuinely looking forward to this hypocrisy of a father/son talk; He had all of the important lectures memorized already anyway.

How could you not have done better? Been smarter? Beat Potter at least once? It all made him nauseous, really. If he didn’t know better, he would swear Lucius wanted Potter as a son instead. ”Bloody Boy who lived,” He whispered into the night air. “Wouldn’t that make Lucius happy?”

Draco stood his ground, calmly awaiting his father's arrival. There were few things that actually scared the Slytherin boy; yet, as the figure grew closer, the boy’s stormy-gray eyes widened in terror. Backing away instinctively, Draco raised his wand with a shaking hand.

*

As a gust of frozen air filled his lungs, Harry Potter held the invisibility cloak closer to himself. He would not do well to be found prowling around in the dark.

//Especially now.// He mused, miserably. Especially after Professor McGonagall had confiscated the Marauder’s Map, leaving him on his own with Mrs. Norris and her equally as hairy owner. How she knew of the map, he had no idea, but suspected she had known about it since its intrepid creation.

Hogwarts had been sealed tight since July, when two dozen students were kidnapped right from their own homes during summer holiday. Found unconscious in the Forbidden Forest days, often weeks later, the children had little to no memory of the events and were generally of no help to the Ministry.

The Hogwarts express had run in earnest then, effectively transporting nearly every student back to Hogwarts. Harry, for one, was likely the only student happy to be going back to school. That, and the Dursley’s had nearly wet themselves with elation at the news.

It was the safest place, Dumbledore had assured them all.

Harry wasn't so certain.

There was...something in the air that made his stomach roll over. He had been halfheartedly playing Exploding Snap with Ron and Seamus, trying to ignore the small voice in the back of his mind, willing him outside. Mentioning something about giving Hedwig the new bag of treats he had bought, he had grabbed his cloak, the treats, and left.

Ahead of him, he spotted two figures on the far end of the Quidditch Pitch, and was startled to hear one of them screaming. Holding his cloak tighter to himself, so as not to trip, he shouted a distracted Lumos and aimed the tiny trail of light towards a screaming Draco Malfoy.

Before them, hovering near the ground was a Dementor. Harry, having rather extensive experience with the horrible, soul-sucking creatures, ignored the bone-chilling cold it exuded. Draco was beside him, caught between burying his head inside his cloak, and trying to appear unaffected. With a shaking hand, he lifted his wand and shouted into the night air. “Expecto Patronum!”

The dementor turned its hooded face towards him, as a brilliant silver stag marched towards it. Confused, it hovered above the frozen ground for a moment, until Harry’s second shout of “Riddikulus!” forced it to flee into the forest with a loud crack.

Sinking to the ground, he tried to calm his heart. The voices hadn’t been bad that time and it had been a few years since he’d had to use that spell, but he must have done well enough to make the blasted thing retreat. Glancing briefly at Draco, he pulled himself up from the cold grass. “It was a boggart.”

Draco fixed him with his steel-gray eyes. "I knew that, Potter."

Harry noticed the frightened look in Malfoy's eyes, yet found he was not quite wanting to humiliate the other boy. Especially when said boy was trying to catch his breath and looked about ready to faint. "What are you doing out here, Malfoy?” he asked, instantly regretting it. Part of him was also amazed that the one thing that he feared the most was also what Draco feared.

Running a hand through his slivery hair, Draco snorted in disbelief. "Oh, and you're one to talk, Potter," reaching out, he grabbed onto the shimmering fabric of Harry's invisibility cloak. "Perfect Potter, strolling the grounds with his pathetic disguise." He tossed the cloak to the ground, causing his feet to disappear beneath it. "At least I have the courage to show my face."

Mentally rolling his eyes, Harry retrieved his cloak. "And nearly get yourself killed, I might add."

"Why should you care-"

Harry snorted, shaking his head. “Had that been a real Dementor, Malfoy, you wouldn’t be standing here with me now. Shut up for once, won’t you!”

“Oh, and now I owe my life to the great Harry Potter?” Draco sneered, his cheeks flushed from the cold air. “You tell anyone about this, Potter and I promise you-“

“Why would I want to admit to meeting with you in the dark? Seeing you up close in the light is bad enough.” Harry smiled then, pleased with the biting retort. Rarely, if ever, did he have the chance to hold something over Draco’s head.

Draco considered him a moment, watching the wind lift and arrange Harry’s raven hair at will. “You never know when to keep your nose out of it, Potter. That’s your problem, really.”

“That right, Malfoy? All right then, take your chances, get yourself killed for all I care. Brat.” That last part Harry mumbled, before turning back towards the school.

Draco’s reply was curtailed as a brilliant green thunderbolt illuminated the heavy, black sky above them. Feeling the telltale throbbing in his scar, Harry took a few deep breaths and prepared to grab Draco and run like the wind.

* * * * *

As the scene played before him, Noceo Parkinson grew restless. His instructions had been plainly (and painfully) explained to him ad nauseum before he'd apparated to just outside the Forbidden Forest. The boggart, now harnessed into an abandoned tree trunk, had worked as planned. As had the gentle, yet insistent prods at the Potter boy, suggesting that he take a walk outside…get some air…anything to get him outdoors. Now, now the most important task lie ahead of him.

He could not act yet, however. Restlessly itching his left arm, he longed to do something. Hearing a rustling in the flora behind him, he raised his wand. "My Lord?"

Stepping out the bushes, the black-robed Death Eater regarded Noceo with a disgusted expression. “You honestly expected a Boggart to frighten two seventeen year old boys.”

Noceo shook his head vigorously, his words clumsy and nearly incoherent. “No…I mean, yes. It did work, the Malfoy boy was easily fooled!”

“Ah yes, but one can never fool the great Harry Potter. Tell me, Noceo, tell me about the curse you are about to inflict these young people with.”

Noceo paled, stumbling over a large tree root. “I…don’t know, my Lord. Adamo Redamo, the only instructions my Lord has given me. I’m not worthy of more.”

The Death Eater smiled, his yellow teeth shining grotesquely in the moonlight. “You aren’t as thick as I expected. Go now, and report back to me or you will not live to see the sun tomorrow.”

Nodding, Noceo quickly moved towards where Harry and Draco were standing.

* * * * *

Falling backwards to the ground, Harry took his head into his hands. His scar now felt as if it were on fire, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

Draco was watching him closely, torn between the need to insult, and a spark of genuine concern. "Potter?" He managed, taking a step closer.

Harry glanced up, finding it hard to breathe. "Malfoy...the cloak. Get under the cloak with me. Hurry." He ground out, lifting a portion of the liquid silver invisibility cloak.

A barked laugh. "Now why would I want to do that, Potter? You hardly look up to-" The words died as Harry forcibly dragged him down beside him. "Then again..." he muttered, rubbing his sore knees.

"Would you kindly SHUT UP, Malfoy?" Finally achieving the desired result, Harry chanced a quick glance out across the field. To his horror, he saw the black-robed form of a Death Eater approaching them. "Get up, we need to move." He instructed, getting to his feet.

Draco, still in a state of confusion, was not as spry. The cloak slipped from him, exposing them both.

What happened next is probably still being debated today.

Noceo raised his wand as Harry turned, grabbing hold of Draco's hand in a vain effort to once again conceal them. It was at that moment that Noceo's shouted "Adamo Redamo!" exploded in a brilliant white light around them.

Glancing at one another, Harry and Draco wobbled slightly before falling to the frozen grass below.

Unconscious.

* * * * *

Noceo, satisfied of the completed task, raced back towards the forest. He got to his knees, out of respect for his superior. The other Death Eater, clearly Noceo’s superior, had his wand pointed clearly at him when he chanced to glance up. “My Lord?”

The Death Eater laughed a sickening chuckle. “Very well done, Noceo. Now, this is for your protection, as well as mine.” Clearing his throat, he shouted a solitary word into the night air. “Obliviate!”

Noceo fell back onto the grass, his wand falling a few feet from him. Shaking his head and unaware of his current surroundings, he stared into the sky, before the Death Eater beside him grabbed his hand and placed it on an old bean can. His last thought before going unconscious was //Must be a portkey…//

* * * * *

"Had it been any other two students..."

Standing shoulder to shoulder in the frigid night air, Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore considered the unconscious boys before them. Wrapped tightly together, wearing similar expressions of discomfort and near-hypothermia, were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

Dumbledore considered this, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "Hagrid is searching the grounds now; He's the only soul brave enough to step foot inside the Forbidden Forest at a time like this." The wizard said, with a touch of humor.

"Bravery? Is that what it's called these days?" McGonagall countered, lightly. Turning around, she watched as the figure of Madame Pomfrey came into view. Not being able to Apparate the boys inside, they wanted to see what the extent of their injuries were before attempting to move them.

"My word! What has happened here? Well, I do say...Potter and Malfoy." In spite of her frenzied manner, Pomfrey did manage to give both boys a cursory exam. "Mighty glad I arrived when I did!" She exclaimed, using a simple variation of the Incendio charm to warm the boys. "What, if I may ask, has happened here?"

Dumbledore looking slightly uncomfortable at the question, but it was hidden as the rapidly moving clouds above them obscured the moon. "That, Poppy, I do not know. Yet. Hagrid is hoping to find-"

"Dumbledore! Headmaster!" Hagrid's booming voice broke through the night air. Nearly running from the forest, he held up a wand over his head. Effectively out of breath, Hagrid deposited the wand into Dumbledore's outstretched palm. "Found it right 'bout the edge o'the forest!"

"Thank you, Hagrid. I trust you will keep this quiet until we can determine what's happened?" Professor McGonagall asked, watching as Madame Pomfrey levitated the two unconscious boys and slowly brought them back inside Hogwarts.

Wasting no time, Dumbledore lightly tapped the tip of his wand against the one found by Hagrid. "Priori Incantatem!"

Ever so slowly, the ghostly image of a heart spun out from the wand. It glowed bright red for a moment, before splitting in two pieces. Independent of one another, the individual pieces withered and turned black, before joining again and resuming the glow.

Feeling a cold invade his bones, that had nothing to do with the below-zero temperature, Dumbledore quietly deleted the spell.

"Adamo Redamo, I presume." McGonagall said, shuddering as the words were spoken.

"Quickly, we need to inform Poppy."

Inside, another battle was being fought. Clad only in pajamas and their slippers, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger watched as Harry and Draco cried out in obvious distress. Unable to understand what happened, and puzzled that even Madame Pomfrey didn't know, they hovered beside Harry's bed. "Is there nothing you can give them? Harry...he's crying!" Hermione exclaimed, wiping away tears of her own.

Dumbledore and McGonagall entered then, wearing twin expressions of disbelief and resignation. It was of no surprise to find Weasley and Granger by Harry's side...he just wondered how well they were going to take what he was about to tell them.

"Adamo Redamo," Dumbledore began, noticing their confused expressions. "Is very powerful, dark magic." He said, his voice colored with sadness. "It plays upon emotions and the heart. It can create, as well as destroy."

Ron appeared frightened, only because he had no clue what Dumbledore was trying to explain. "What is 'Adamo Redamo'? A spell?"

McGonagall nodded her expression grim. "An Unforgivable Curse that hasn't been successfully conjured in over 50 years, to be exact."

Paling, Hermione wished she had something to write down this information with. "But there are only 3 Unforgivable Curses, right?"

"Not exactly. Adamo Redamo is often overlooked, since it does not always kill its victims." She continued, as Madame Pomfrey tried to comfort Harry.

"Er...not always? Then you mean...Harry could...die?" Ron asked, not hiding the panic in his voice. "Forgive me Professor, but how could you say that so blinking calmly?"

A low, keening noise rose from Harry's twisted form. Ron and Hermione watched as Harry flailed his arms about, as if searching for something.

Stepping forward, Hermione cleared her throat. "Pardon me, Professors, but does Adamo Redamo cause any of these physical symptoms?" She tried taking Harry's hand into her own, and was nearly tossed to floor. "I don't understand-"

Dumbledore nodded at McGonagall, and together they moved the boy’s beds closer to one another. Acting on instinct, Harry and Draco grasped hands tightly.

All traces of physical discomfort vanished.

Sharing horrified expressions, Ron and Hermione shook their heads.

"We will need to find who has performed that awful curse, Headmaster! I have nothing in the books that gives any clues how to treat it! You know Potter and Malfoy, they'll refuse the needed physical contact and-"

Closing the door behind him, Albus Dumbledore made his way out into the hallway. Madame Pomfrey was correct, and he needed to think of something before the boys woke up. If only one other person could have had the knowledge to incant such a curse, and it was most certainly not him...

"Most puzzling." He muttered to himself.

* * * * *

The sky was just beginning to become washed with the first signs of dawn. Heavy white snowflakes fell silently to the ground below. Everything was at peace...

Save for the two restless teenagers camped around Harry's bed.

Neither Harry nor Draco had awakened during the night, and Hermione, too tired to keep watch, had fallen asleep against Ron's shoulder. She'd been vaguely aware that Madame Pomfrey had been trying to get rid of them, but seeing as how THEY WERE NOT LEAVING (Ron's words), she'd given up.

Quietly stretching, she carefully climbed out of Ron's tight embrace. She was not quite ready to enjoy the feeling of being curled up on his strong, warm chest. //Right then...not thinking about that! // She took a moment to take in his sleeping form...he was rather handsome, really.

Actually, the more she thought about it, all three of them were wickedly handsome. Even Draco.

//No, especially Draco...//

Remembering Draco, however, reminded her of Harry and the hideous curse cast upon him the night before. Even now, asleep and unaware, Harry and Draco clutched hands so tightly it appeared to be but one hand and not two. Even worse, she had not known of a curse. While she wasn't going to allow herself to be that...anal...about knowing EVERYTHING, she supposed having at least some knowledge of Adamo Redamowould help now. Thankfully, Dumbledore and McGonagall knew what to expect.

Problem there? They were keeping their cards in close, and she needed to know what they knew.

Scarier yet, Dumbledore hadn't told them about who had cast the spell, and where this person was presently. Almost certain that it had to have been a form of Dark Magic, she thought of persuading McGonagall into giving her permission to browse through the library's restricted section. Naturally, that as much chance of happening as Neville Longbottom earning a compliment from Snape. Still debating her options, she failed to notice the green eyes staring at her from across the room.

"Hermione?"

With a startled squeak, she hurried back towards Harry. His eyes were barely open, and appeared bloodshot and unfocused. "I'm here, Harry." She whispered, not wanting to wake Draco. Whether Harry had noticed anything amiss...yet...she didn't want to push things.

Smiling slightly, Harry brought his free hand up to rub his forehead. "Did we at least win?"

Puzzled, Hermione shook her head before realizing what he meant. Usually, the only reason Harry ever stayed with Madame Pomfrey was Quidditch. Or rather, Quidditch injuries. Finally, Harry let her off the hook with a smile.

"This isn't exactly a Quidditch injury, am I right?" He asked, soberly.

Lowering her gaze, she nodded. "How...how much do you remember about last night, Harry?"

He was quiet for a good long time before answering. "I was taking a walk, I had some Owl treats for Hedwig...anyway...I saw Malfoy and what appeared to be a dementor but wasn't...we argued, and then...that's where it gets a bit foggy."

"Had you not been so noble, Harry." She mused. For Harry to stop and help *Malfoy*...it was just...something not many other people would do.

Leave it to Harry to help an enemy.

"So, you don't remember Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall finding you last night, unconscious? You were both cold and crying, it was rather dreadful-"

"Both? What do you mean both?"

Feeling dread clawing its way inside her stomach, she resignedly pointed to the bed beside Harry. Still asleep, and looking rather innocent, Draco Malfoy was blissfully unaware of his audience. "You've been...holding onto one another all night." She whispered, reaching for his free hand.

Staring at the sleeping figure next to him, Harry shook his head. "I know he is there, I can see him...but I cannot *feel* him," He admitted, quietly. "I can feel you holding my hand, but on this side, it almost feels like I'm holding my *own* hand."

"Dumbledore mentioned that...you would not be able to let g-go," Hermione said, recalling what their Headmaster had told them about the Adamo Redamocurse. Mind you, she did not want to be the one to break this to Harry.

She would much rather be anywhere than here once Malfoy found out, too.

* * * * *

Harry, being his usual stubborn and reckless self, tried to do just that. Releasing Draco's hand, he took a deep breath.

It was the next breath that did not want to arrive...

Crushing, burning pain radiated from his chest. Breathing became rather labored, as he snapped his eyes shut. A low, keening noise beside him confirmed that Draco was faring no better.

Hermione, whose back had been turned, let out a cry and ran over to help. Unceremoniously grabbing Harry's hand, she placed it palm down on Draco's chest. The effect was immediate, and nearly sent Hermione to the hard floor below. Again.

Bright, blindingly so, white light surrounded them. Spinning, twisting patterns of light danced around the room in a dizzying display. Holding onto the bed with his free hand, Harry did not have time to question the feelings of pure elation he was experiencing. The pain was gone, obviliated by the skin-to-skin contact. Opening his eyes, he saw that the light was not quite as bright as he had first thought. Draco was awake by now, sitting beside him with a look bordering on confusion and anger. Nothing new there, he mused.

Hermione and a now-awake Ron watched open-jawed from across the room. Dimly, he was aware of seeing Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey rush into the room, but then everything went dark again.

* * * * *

Beyond even common sense, or concern for his own safety, he had reacted. Took fate by her cold, bloody heart and fought tooth and nail for another chance. For safety.

For his...James'.... son.

For everyone.

Now, standing before a large mirror, he scowled at the dirty, disheveled reflection he found there. Long, matted hair, spotted with wet, dripping remnants of snow. Angry, purple rings surrounded his eyes, bloodshot as they were. He looked a fright. While the outside appearance told stories of great despair, inside.

Inside.

Inside was a feeling he had not felt since...

Well, he thought, miserably, it would not do to think about that now.

In spite of his dreadful appearance, he smiled. To his utter delight, the man in the mirror smiled back.

* * * * *

"My word! What exactly is going on here?" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, running over towards Harry. The boy appeared unconscious, but a small, barely audible...moaning...was coming from his parted lips. Fascinated as he was disgusted, Draco blinked up at the confused witch. A response almost made its merry way out loud, but seeing as how he had no idea what in Merlin's name was going on, he thought it better to wait for a proper explanation.

Then he could kill Potter.

Dumbledore was eyeing him curiously, no doubt thinking he was behind all of this. Am I? He did not know, really. All he could recall was talking to Harry outside last night, and a bright flash of light...and then...oh, right, another bright flash of light. Splendid.

"Professor?" Draco whispered, pointing to where Harry's hand rested on his chest. A faint tingling surrounded from the five digits, stretching out further from the palm. He watched as Dumbledore tapped Harry lightly with his wand, willing the other boy into wakefulness.

"Unnh...don't wanna...gerrof me..." Harry mumbled, pulling both of Draco's hands to his chest. Then, and only then, did he remember what was happening. At least, Draco hoped so.

Right then, he also hoped he was imagining the way his breath was catching in his throat.

Blinking, Harry sat up and shook his head. "Please tell me that this isn't permanent?"

Draco flinched at the cold, emotionless quality of Harry's voice; He had never heard the other boy speak that way. Then again, he had not spent much time dissecting Harry's speech patterns, either. No, this was something that he...what, want to hear again...Er, no.

Yet...NO! Definitely no.

"Yes and no, Harry. We're certain that we have found a way to reverse the physical indigentia-"

"The what?" Draco bit back a smirk as he and Harry asked at once. Dumbledore and his bloody riddles.

"Need. Indigentia is physical need, or desire." Hermione supplied, quietly.

Both boys paled at this. No, there was NO way they...desired...each other. "Desire?" Draco squeaked, wanting to yank his hands away from Harry and go wash them about 50 times.

Dumbledore simply nodded. "Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey will be overseeing that later on today. Right now, you need to let us check you both over. Quite the drama, you've gone through, I must say."

Giving themselves over to the gentle prodding of Madame Pomfrey, Draco and Harry were silent. It was so odd, he mused; Harry was practically holding onto him for dear life, and he could not even feel it. Yet, the burning pain that had woken him up was evidence that he'd felt something.

"Can you at least tell us what happened? I hate this...not knowing." That same, cold feeling had crept into Harry's voice again.

"Adamo Redamo, an especially complicated Unforgivable Curse," Dumbledore began. "Fools the mind into doing it’s bidding; not unlike the Imperius curse in many respects. Gives those cursed complete control over the emotions of their intended." He finished, soberly.

Feeling as if his stomach was about to turn over, Draco took a few deep breaths. "You mean we will be in love...with each other." He near-whispered, his voice shaking.

Shaking his head, Dumbledore sighed. "Not necessarily. I mentioned that this curse gives you power of the heart over your intended. Should Harry be your intended, then yes? Otherwise, whomever you chose to give your heart to, I dare say."

"More dangerous than it sounds, I should think. How do we know what will set the curse into motion? A single errant thought? A spoken word, even in jest?" Draco inquired, his usual drawl replaced with a quiet, distinguished timbre.

"Why anyone would want to perform this curse is beyond my comprehension. It twists the mind into believing lies. True love can only exist amidst pure honestly. Remember this most of all," Frowning, Dumbledore looked gravely at the two boys. "At first I had wondered how a curse this strong was able to be performed on the two of you. Your mutual dislike is nearly legendary here at Hogwarts," smiling then, he laughed at the two mutinous expressions staring him down. "My only reasoning is the fact that your already passionate emotions worked well-"

"Passionate? I do NOT have passionate feelings for Malfoy!" Harry sputtered, even as he continued to clutch at Draco's hands.

"Oh, and I fancy you too, Potter! Honestly, Professor?"

From across the room, Hermione cleared her throat. "Did it ever occur to either of you that it takes just as much, if not more, emotion to fuel your 'mutual dislike'? Hate is just as passionate as love!" She exclaimed, rolling her eyes at the two of them.

Oh great, Granger has a bee in her bonnet.

"Did anyone ask your opinion, Granger? Stay the bloody hell out of it!" Wanting to get to his feet, Draco had to settle for rising slightly and curling a leg beneath his rear. "Why can I not remember any of this? I was out walking...ran into Potter...then, nothing!" The drawl was back now, icy as ever.

Angrier than he had been in a long time, Harry let out a groan of frustration. "Leave her out of this, Malfoy! All I can recall was watching as what appeared to be a dementor, floated towards you. I repelled it with the Patronus charm, but seeing as how it was only a boggart…”

“I knew it was a boggart! I’ve taken enough DADA classes, Potter!”

Harry continued on, undeterred. “Your sorry arse would have been...in a lot worse shape than this, had that been real. Luckily for you, it was only a Boggart!" Harry's voice had risen as he neared the end, and with extreme effort, he wrenched his hands free.

"What are you...are you mad, Potter?" He desperately needed contact, as the heavy, burning feeling filled his chest again. It literally felt as if his heart were breaking. Wouldn't that be lovely; Harry Potter breaking my heart?

Teeth clenched, Harry opened his eyes. "I prefer the pain, wretched as it is."

Draco was incredulous. "What were you doing snooping about the Quidditch pitch in the dark anyway, Potter? Secret rendezvous with Granger over here?"

"Sod off, Malfoy!" She cut in, shaking in anger by now. "You should consider yourself lucky it was Harry you ran into and not...Crabbe or-"

"Longbottom." Ron pointed out, sniggering at the thought.

In spite of himself, Draco felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. Yes, when he thought about it that way, Harry Potter with his green eyes and sometimes-evil voice were infinitely better that having to curl up beside Neville Longbottom. Gah...what am I saying?

Dumbledore smiled mildly; glad to see some sort of end had been reached. "Now then, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Professor McGonagall wished for me to give this to you," He said, producing a large piece of parchment. "I trust you know the way to the library then?"

Ron's mouth opened and closed a few times, before Hermione grabbed his arm. "Of course, Professor. We will just be...going then. Right."

Turning his attention back to Draco and Harry, his expression changed to one of concern once more. "This will not be easy, on either of you. In one hour, you will each be taken to a room where you will need to remain for the next 7 hours. It is imperative that we do this now, or you will be forever required to be in constant physical contact. After these 7 hours pass, we will move onto the next part of your...shall I call it...treatment. Now, I suggest you maintain physical contact here as much as possible, for your bodies will be under a great amount of stress once the extreme distance is in effect." Gathering his long robes about him, Dumbledore left the room.

Looking at once another, Draco and Harry shared one single thought. "We're fucked."

~*~*~*~*~