Adamo Redamo

Adamo Redamo (3/?)

Chapter 3
~ Occultatio ~

Harry and Ron, having arrived early for once, took seats near where the Slytherins usually sat instead of where those near the other Gryffindors. This had been Ron’s idea, and as he’d worded it: “If were gonna mess with the slimy git, might as well go all out!” After rolling his eyes with a smile, Harry had agreed. Several of the Slytherin’s glared at them, and Harry couldn’t be certain, but he swore he saw teeth being shown. He knew they wouldn’t say anything to them, not with their so-called ringleader not here yet. He wondered, briefly, where Draco was anyway.

//Oi! Right behind you, superboy.//

Raising a questioning eyebrow at Ron, Harry turned around to find Draco scowling at him. //How did you get in here without me seeing you?//

He saw Draco shrug. //Magic, Potter.// He drawled, ruffling the top end of his quill.

Fighting back a groan, Harry was momentarily distracted when Hermione came running in. Tossing a rather large book in front of Ron, she hurried into her seat just as Snape entered the room. //I found it in the library; it contains some spells we can use to shield our thoughts from each other. It’s very complicated and I’ll explain when I can.// She said, all in one breath. Harry and Ron nodded, but all Draco could do, not yet used to Hermione’s rather…rushed tendencies, was appear confused.

Ron quickly slid the tome into his bag, not wanting to risk Snape taking it away. //So, who shall we mess with first?//

Draco tilted his head towards the other Gryffindors, who were still eying them warily after their strange behavior at breakfast. //Neville would be a waste; he’ll mess up something on his own, anyway. What about…Finnigan?//

Harry felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. He knew that Ron would love the chance to mess with Seamus; The same Seamus who always hung all over Ginny like a cheap suit of Uncle Vernon’s. //What did you have in mind, Malfoy?//

Hermione seemed to be focusing her attention, however, on Pansy Parkinson. Before any of them knew what was happening, Pansy’s chair tipped up sending the shrieking Slytherin onto the floor. Not breaking even a sweat, Hermione continued to pretend to be listening to Snape outline the details of the potion they would be making. //Sorry, but I’ve waited so long to do that.// She told them, holding her head a bit higher as a scowling Pansy was berated by Snape for interrupting class.

Harry hid his laugh inside a cough, and knew more than a few people who would have also loved to mess with Pansy. Snape droned on, instructing them to split into teams of two as always and setting his face into a no-more-stonier-than-usual mask. He could see the relief on Hermione’s face, since she was usually partnered with Neville. This time she quickly sidled up to Ron and began chopping her snails. Harry looked up, a smile daring to break free, //Wouldn’t Snape love to us as a pair, Malfoy?//

Draco, already walking towards Harry, nodded. //Just play along, Potter.// Rolling the sleeves of his robe up, Draco slowly added the requisite ground beetle eyes to their cauldron. “So, how are you today, Harry?” He said, a little too cheerfully.

Smiling brilliantly, Harry forced himself to not look directly at Snape. “Very well, Draco. And yourself? //Is Snape’s face always that…red color?//

//Oh no, keep watching. It’s about to get a whole lot better. Follow my lead here, Harry.// Draco stared at Goyle’s cauldron, and after a moment it began spewing dark blue-colored foam everywhere.

Harry, in turn, used their ‘magic’ on Pansy’s potion. As it was about to splatter Hermione, he held tightly to his charm, as did Draco and Ron. The foam instead attached itself all over Snape, who had been walking over to investigate.

The class was dead silent for a moment, as Snape stood before them looking like a blueberry. Nobody moved, even as various cauldrons began to bubble furiously. In a chillingly calm voice, Snape instructed them all to get out quickly. Most people didn’t need to be told twice, and Harry gladly ran from the classroom with Hermione and Ron. After a moment, he turned around to see Draco running with them as well. //Best potions class we’ve ever…not had…I must say.//

Unconsciously running towards the Quidditch pitch, the four students finally stopped beneath a large tree. The chilly October air bit into their skin, but it was otherwise bright and sunny. “That was a stroke of genius, Malfoy!” Ron exclaimed, resting amidst a large pile of red-gold leaves. “Wait, was that actually me?” He shook his head for dramatic effect.

Affecting his usual smugness, Draco smiled. “You expected any less?”

Hermione tossed a small pile of leaves at him and motioned Ron to give her the shielding book back. “Now then, unless we want to continue reading each others minds, I suggest we work on shielding. According to this, we control the shields, and can either block out everyone, no one or whomever we chose.” Tapping the cover of the book, she turned to the appropriate page.

* * * * *

Had he been expecting any strangeness, sitting in the leaves with his three (former?) enemies, Draco found none. They seemed to be treating him the way they treated each other, which, he thought with a grin, wasn’t as well, ‘happy huggy’ as he’d expected. Hermione was going on and on about shielding and what the steps were. That would be nice, having his mind back once again. Not that he thought about anything exciting-

//I’ll say…//

“Would the two of you pay attention to something other than each other? This is important!” Hermione interjected, fixing them with a McGonagall-worthy glare.

Looking guiltily at the ground, Draco rolled his eyes. He was not…thinking about Harry! //Not the way she was inferring, anyway.// “Can we just get on with it then? I’ve already been cursed, enchanted and…now whatever this is you’re about to do!” He brushed some dry leaves from his robe. “And I’m not feeling too well, I might add.”

“Oh, poor baby. I feel for you, Draco, really. If you would have been listening to me, I clearly-“

“Clear as mud, perhaps.” Ron mumbled under his breath, much to Harry and Draco’s delight.

“I clearly stated that this is something you need to do yourself. Here,” She unceremoniously dropped the heavy book into Draco’s lap. “Read this aloud and add our names in at the end.”

“Watch it, would you? Future generations of Malfoy reside here,” He gestured to his lap. He laughed as Hermione wrinkled her nose in distaste. Quickly reading the passage, he was amazed at how easy it was. He passed the book to Ron and felt the quieting of his mind as the redhead’s scattered thoughts were closed off from him. Next was Hermione, followed finally by Harry.

Yes, Draco mused, it was not until Harry spoke the passage, that the awful feeling he’d started feeling grew worse by leaps and bounds. A chill passed over his skin, settling in his gut. //It’s probably the porridge…// Plus, he did not even want to contemplate the words Harry had unconsciously let slip before their link closed.

//Wouldn’t mind being where that book was…//

* * * * *

Once classes were over for the day, Harry had to admit that he was actually missing Draco. Shaking the feeling off, he rested into a large chair by the fire. No, how could someone actually miss Draco? He was…he was…tall, blonde, and dead sexy. Yep, that would be how.

//I need to lie down…//

Hermione, a bit too pleased with herself than she should have been, was trying to ignore Ron’s attempts to get her to laugh. Seamus and Ginny were…he didn’t even want to know what those two were doing, really. Besides, Seamus wouldn’t get very…er…far with Ron sitting right there. Not unless he wanted to retrieve his wand from up his-

“Oi! Harry, are you in there?”

Snapping around to face Ron, Harry smiled. “Yeah, just…keeping an eye on the horny Irishman.” //Not too far from the truth…//

Ron grumbled something in the general direction of Seamus, causing him to drop Ginny to the floor. Getting to her feet, the fiery-tempered redhead marched over to her brother. “What is going on with the three of you? I heard that you were seen sitting outside earlier with Malfoy of all people! And…what about breakfast? The whole school thinks you’ve gone nutters!”

Harry, Hermione and Ron exchanged looks, not sure, what was safe to tell. They couldn’t tell Ginny about the curse, or the charms. Not yet, anyway. Finally, it was Hermione who saved the day. “McGonagall paired us up with Malfoy for a special transfiguration project. Only certain students are selected, and it will score us major points on the N.E.W.T.s if we do it correctly.”

“Oh. Well then, I should have guessed it was something like that,” She sat down beside Harry and passed him a chocolate frog. “That still doesn’t explain this morning. You were all acting so…”

“Barking mad. I believe you used the word mad.” Seamus reminded her, leaning down to give her a kiss.

As Harry was watching the volley of words between Ginny and Seamus continue, Harry began thinking more and more that lying down would be a very good thing. His head was swimming, and he was cold, even with the fire behind him. Yawning for effect, he politely excused himself and barely made it upstairs before passing out. Had anyone gone to check on him, they would have known that something was, indeed, very wrong.

* * * * *

In another part of the castle, Albus Dumbledore was awaiting the arrival of three of his former students. Fawkes was keeping him company now, as Severus Snape had just left in a huff. Oh, he knew full well what caused the potions Professor to resemble a blueberry, but was not at liberty to divulge that information just yet. He was surprised to learn that the…explosions had been from Slytherin cauldrons; Since Draco would have had to turn against his own housemates. Perhaps spending all this time with Harry and company was having a positive effect on Draco.

One could only hope. He knew that life was about to become more complicated for the four students, and they only had each other to rely on.

As the door to his office swung open, the confused faces of Remus Lupin and Sirius Black greeted him. Both had been instructed to use a concealing charm, so as to not cause unnecessary panic in the school. Especially for poor Harry, who would undoubtedly be very upset to see Sirius take such an extreme risk. “I apologize for the suddenness of this meeting, but certain circumstances have left me with no alternative.”

Sirius nodded, looking rather uncomfortable in the plush office. “Does this have something to do with Harry?” He asked, concern evident in his voice.

Retaining his calm façade, Dumbledore nodded. “In order to protect Harry from what we all know is coming, he was…shall we say…cursed-“

“I don’t understand. What do you mean, cursed?”

A long sigh came forth first, as the esteemed Headmaster searched for the right words. “Adamo Redamo. Unforgivable, but not likely to cause any permanent danger.”

At this, Remus’ face grew pale. “But that’s…dark magic! If you’ll forgive me, Albus, do start at the beginning.”

By the time the full explanation was given, Sirius appeared ready to choke the life out of who ever concocted the idea in the first place. Fortunately, or unfortunately as it were, Lucius Malfoy had just opened the door.

* * * * *

//It is too warm in here…//

This was Draco’s first thought, upon waking up in his bed. Still clad in his thick robes and standard Hogwarts attire, it was no wonder he was so warm. “How’d I get in here, anyway?” He wondered, aloud. He could not remember much after coming back inside after potions…no, after performing that shielding spell of Granger’s.

Potions had been an entire experience onto its self.

Ugh, and he still felt as if someone were ripping him apart from the inside out. Gently rising from the bed, he sank back down quickly, as the room spun around him madly. It felt like the time he and Pansy had gotten some Muggle whiskey and…

//Oh, not good right now…//

No, and the spinning seemed to be getting worse, if anything. His unconscious instinct was to call out for one of his housemates, but the name that came out of his mouth as he grasped the charm around his neck was that of Harry Potter.

* * * * *

Counting to ten, Dumbledore watched as Sirius and Remus gaped in shock. Lucius, confused soul that he was, somehow managed to appear nervous. Although, watching the shock change to something more sinister, it looked as if Lucius had due cause to be nervous.

“Albus? Have you gone mad?” Sirius exclaimed, getting to his feet.

Lucius cleared his throat, holding back a biting remark that would not get him anywhere. “If I may have a word, gentlemen?”

Snorting in disbelief, Sirius opened his hands in a ‘be my guest’ gesture and sat back down. “Well?”

“In a perfect world, my son would not have to face the fate I’ve destined him to. Now, less than three months remain before I will be forced to sell Draco’s life to the dark.” He paused, gripping the arm of the chair. “In a perfect world, your Godson would have both of his parents, alive. I can only change one of these events, yet it took both lives to even begin.“

Dumbledore nodded slightly to Lucius, signaling him to continue. He was convinced that Sirius and Remus would be hard to sell, and sincerely hoped it didn’t come down to anything drastic.

“I…I forced Noceo Parkinson to curse Draco and Harry. Under the cover of the Adamo Redamo curse, and with the extremely powerful protection charm Albus and Minerva found, they are-“

“Bound to each other until one of them dies, leaving the other to wither away to nothing. Yes, I know all about Adamo Redamo, Lucius. What possessed you to chose something so…desperate?” Remus questioned, shaking his head and placing a calming hand on Sirius’ trembling ones.

Looking to the floor, Lucius shrugged. “Defeating Voldemort will take more desperate measure than we can afford. I’d rather give my son to the light, to…Harry, than have him find himself twisted…manipulated as I was.”

“Oh, and you’re not now? You’re not going to run off like some lapdog, reporting to your Master for a well-placed petting?” Sirius sneered, the fire in his eyes nearly as warm as the flames dancing in the fireplace.

Lucius winced at the implication. “I was expecting this, and feel free to use whatever means necessary to make yourself feel better,” He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes, tiredly. “In fact…Expelliarmus!” Remus’ wand flew from his pocket, landing into Lucius’ outstretched palm.

“What are you…?”

“Veritas!” Lucius, with Remus’ wand pointed at his heart, shouted. The pain was tightening his chest, making breathing impossible, at best. “Just ask…anything you need to know. Please.”

Nodding at Remus and Dumbledore, Sirius did just that.

* * * * *

//Draco….Draco….Draco…//

“Draco!” Harry popped up, the sheets around him sweaty and cold at the same time. The room was dark now, and his bedside clock read ‘Still enough time left to study’. Well, he only knew that from seeing it for seven years; The actual room was spinning around as if it were practicing some mad dance. He heard Draco calling him, but couldn’t find his voice to reply. His head hurt, and felt horribly unfocused when he attempted to connect with Draco’s mind.

“Ron? “Mione?’ He whispered, rolling over onto his stomach.

Nothing, but then again it had only been a whisper. Taking a deep breath, he put everything he had into calling out to them with his mind.

//Ron! Hermione! Please….//

* * * * *

Having been doing her Arithmancy homework, hearing Harry’s startled cry caused Hermione to jump, sending her newly dipped quill onto the floor. //Harry? What is it?//

Ron’s eyes met hers, just as an equally desperate cry came along their bond. This time from Draco. “You…Draco….I’ll…get…meet you….go!”

Of course, in their minds, it sounded more like, //You go to Draco, and I’ll get Harry. I’ll meet you at Madame Pomfrey’s, now go!”

Ron bolted up the stairs, taking them two and three at a time, while Hermione, forgetting all about her homework, sprinted out the portrait hole in a blur. Watching the events unfold, the rest of the occupants in the common room were left speechless.

* * * * *

“Are you working as a spy for Voldemort?”

“No.” Deep breath.

“Is it your intention to harm Harry?”

“No!”

“Why are you doing this?”

“I told you,” wheeze, “For Draco, and for Harry. So they’ll have the chances…that I never had. That none of us had.”

“Is there more to this…plan?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“We’re killing Wormtail on Halloween night.”

* * * * *

Hermione raced around the castle, winding her way into the dungeons. Finally reaching the Slytherin dorm, she paused before the painting. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but for it to be so similar to Gryffindor? //Draco, can you hear me? I need the password.//

//…//

//Draco, stay with me! I’m right outside the door, give me the password.//

Although their link was down, to her it appeared that Draco was surprised to hear her voice. She guessed that he was probably expecting Ron, or Harry even.

//schnoogle.//

“Schnoogle?” She repeated, pleased when the scowling portrait opened for her. Racing past the shocked Slytherin’s, she searched each room until she found Draco. He looked a fright. “Oh, what’s happened to you?” She whispered, pushing the silver-blond hair from his damp forehead.

He smiled at her uncharacteristic concern for him, before screwing his eyes shut once more. “Harry? Where’s Harry?” //Can you help me get up, Hermione?//

Nodding, she looped an arm around his left side and hoisted him up. Staggering to his feet, he slumped against her as he tried to walk. “Dizzy…” He explained, slowly placing one foot before the other.

Together they made their way back into the Slytherin common room. Pansy had a few choice words for her, but once she found that she was being ignored, stared at them openmouthed as they exited the room.

* * * * *

Doing not much better, Harry was at least able to walk unsupported. Ron was at a loss as to what could be wrong, Harry could tell. Hell, he didn’t have a clue; he didn’t expect any one else too, either. “Ten to one it’s the curse.” He mumbled, as Ron helped him down the stairs to the infirmary.

“I’ll take those odds, Harry.” Gently placing Harry in a chair, he knocked on the closed door. Madame Pomfrey, upon seeing Harry’s current state, sprang into action. Running around madly, she quickly dispensed Harry some spin-stop and keep-it-down potions to help combat the dizziness and nausea. “Now what have you done to yourself, Potter, hmm?”

Unable to speak after swallowing the vile-tasting medicines, Harry melted into the mattress below him. He could feel Draco drawing closer, and just knew that something dreadful had gone wrong earlier that afternoon. Had it been the shielding? Was it worse than that? Could be the charm? By the time Hermione and Draco finally came into the room, and the spinning stopped for good, he was able to sit up.

Draco however, appeared…dead.

Swaying under the weight, Hermione was thankful when Ron assisted her with getting Draco into the bed beside Harry. “I…suppose I should find McGonagall and… Ron, you will keep me updated and…”

Hermione’s concerned voice faded into words for Ron alone, and Harry did his best to tune them out; He’d had a lot of practice. Instead, he rolled onto his side, taking in Draco’s current state. He was flushed pink, a color not associated with the pale-skinned boy at all. Sweat had caused his hair to stick to his forehead in clumps, and his robes were a wrinkled, smelly mess. Tentatively reaching out a hand, he lightly ran his hand across Draco’s forehead. It was hot, sweaty and soft under his fingers. He must have looked the fool when Ron stepped up and cleared his throat. “He’s burning up…” he offered, uncomfortably.

Nodding, Ron stepped closer to the bed. “I thought he was just being…Draco earlier when he mentioned he wasn’t feeling well. I mean,” he paused, scratching the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “We don’t know anything about him, only what he’s allowed us to see-“

“It’s not your fault, Ron.” Harry said firmly. “This is Adamo Redamo in action, I’m sure of it. Even if you’d had Draco in your back pocket all day, I don’t reckon it would have helped.”

Looking sheepish, Ron nodded in agreement. “No, I suppose not.”

Silence fell over the room then, as both Harry and Ron watched Madame Pomfrey do her magic.

* * * * *

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that Malfoy?”

Taking a few deep breaths, Lucius slowly repeated his words. “We are going to kill that miserable little rat, Wormtail.” The pain of the Veritas charm radiated through his body, but the thought of Draco gave him the strength he needed. //Besides,// he mused, //it’s not like I’ve not been through worse.//

With a wave of his own wand, Dumbledore ended the charm, looking at them pointedly. “I will not have the three of you acting as mature as a bunch of first years. If your children can get past the differences planted in their minds, so can you.”

Sirius actually looked abashed. “You’re right, Albus. It’s just…it’s Malfoy!”

“Now you really sound like Harry, Padfoot.” Remus whispered, earning him a well-placed elbow to the ribs.

“This man placed himself in grave danger to protect his son and Harry, and you’re both aware of the fact that…Peter-“

“Forgiving the interruption, Albus, but I had twelve years to mull over Peter’s evident shortcomings as a human being.” Sirius added, bitterly.

Dumbledore leaned back into the plush fabric of his chair. “Then there’s nothing more I can add. This will be dangerous to all involved, and if well executed, the first step towards defeating Voldemort once and for all.”

Lucius was about to continue, when the concerned face of Minerva McGonagall peered into the room. “Our favorite patients are at it again, I’m afraid.” She quipped, cryptically. If she noticed, or even cared that the other three men were there, she showed no change in expression as she promptly left the room as quickly as she’d come in.

Lucius knew, deep in his gut that had something to do with Draco. Yet, what could he do? For now…he needed his son to hate him to the very core. “You will let us know if something’s wrong?” he asked, quietly.

Nodding, Dumbledore suddenly looked extremely weary. “Harry…has a big heart. He will make certain no harm comes to Draco, of that I’m certain.”

Bristling a bit at these words, Lucius shook his head. “My son has a heart-“

“Which is a surprise, seeing as how you’ve never taught him how to use it.” Sirius added, quietly.

Before he could rein them in, the words came tumbling from his mouth. “Yes, and you’ve set such a striking example yourself. Any good that boy has surely has not come from you-“

Of course, had it been under different circumstances, and emotions hadn’t been running quite as high, the sight of Lucius laid out on the floor, clutching his nose wasn’t all that humorous. “Yes, I must say I deserved that.” He replied, quietly and much to Sirius’ complete surprise.

“I…I cannot believe I just did that.” The dark-haired former Gryffindor mused. “Go on, Albus; we’ll behave.”

With a grin, Dumbledore walked to the door. “Do see that you do. I’d hate to make Poppy prepare three large beds in the infirmary for you.”

* * * * *

Before Harry could contemplate what was happening, Professor Dumbledore arrived and ordered Madame Pomfrey to release he and Draco from the infirmary. Various paths and hallways blurred as the Headmaster lead them back to the cavernous room they had performed the Commendo Lateo charm in that morning. Ron and Hermione had accompanied them, helping maintain the concealing charm that allowed them to move along the halls unseen. It was maddening, and he wholeheartedly wished for life the way it was before he had heard of Adamo Redamo.

If anything, Draco’s condition had worsened during the move, and his fever was nearing dangerous levels. Madame Pomfrey told them that the best remedy for a fever was bed rest and a chilling potion. It was a known fact, however, that the patient needed to be awake to swallow the potion.

Now Harry had been the victim of quite a few fevers in his life, and could remember the awkward attempts Petunia had made to make him feel better. It usually involved cold washcloths and dozens of blankets. Oh, and apple juice, ice cold. While he couldn’t do much about the apple juice, cold washcloths and blankets should not be a worry. Unless, of course, you were trying to convince a Witch to consider Muggle healing methods. Outlining his suggestions to Madame Pomfrey, he was not surprised when she looked defeated.

“I hardly see how this will help, Harry.” She said, crossing her arms in a defensive stance.

“No, Harry’s right. Mum has actually done this herself. We didn’t always…have money for…and, anyway it does work.” Ron added, studying the floor.

Dumbledore was watching them with growing amusement. “In times of desperation, Poppy, we must explore all avenues.”

Finally, the beleaguered Witch threw her hands in the air and went to fetch Harry some cold washcloths. There were already plenty of extra blankets, which Ron helped him pile around Draco’s prone form. Ron looked nearly dead on his feet, and sat down in one of the beds on the opposite side of the room. As it was, the room was large enough to sleep eight people, but Harry hardly saw Hermione bunking up with them for the night. “Get some sleep, Ron. You’re likely to be awakened by the mad ravings of Hermione at any moment, so take advantage of it while you can.” He teased, standing in the center of the room.

Toeing his shoes off, Ron smiled. “Oh, and she can yell at me right in my head now, which is all the more pleasant.”

//And don’t you forget it Ron! I’ll be there in the morning…not early.//

//Not early to you means seven-thirty! Please, not before nine!//

//Honestly…well, seeing as how we were all up before bloody dawn today…//

//Why, Miss. Granger, was that a cuss I heard? Tsk…tsk. //

//Must be all that time with Draco. His vocabulary is always a means of entertainment.//

//Uh huh. Get some sleep, ‘Mione. Be sure to smuggle in some breakfast.//

//Yes, Ron. Whatever you say, Ron. Get some sleep Ron…//

Harry laughed to himself, having listened to only parts of the mental conversation. Ron and Hermione could be…slightly nauseating when they thought nobody was paying them much attention. Ron sank back into the mattress, a smile playing on lips as he fell asleep. //Alone with my own thoughts…//

It was a wonderful feeling, but he could sense something…just beyond his reach. As if someone were trying to get attention by waving a flag at him as he walked in the other direction. Still, the feeling grew more intense the closer he was to Draco. //Brilliant thinking there, Harry…// Of course it would be, what about Draco lately didn’t make him feel everything to the extreme?

//Not a road I feel like traveling down now…// Why had he recovered so quickly, while Draco still lay unresponsive? Why had he noticed the…softness of the other boys skin? Sure, Draco was attractive, and Harry had a healthy affinity for attractive males.

//But Malfoy? //

“Arrrgh!” He collapsed into the bed closest to Draco’s and used what little willpower his traitorous mind had left him, and thought of something really disturbing. Like Dudley as a male stripper.

* * * * *

Back in Dumbledore’s office, the three men inside were doing their best to get along. Sirius could feel the apprehension coming off Lucius in waves, and tried to not take great joy in this. He wondered about Harry, and how he was holding up in light of certain circumstances. Always resilient, his Godson had always been able to withstand just about anything. Then again, he had never had to deal with the Malfoys, up close and personal. The plan that Lucius had described seemed horribly dangerous at best, but when had their dealings with Voldemort been anything but dangerous? For Draco’s sake, however, and that of Harry, Ron and Hermione, he hoped beyond anything that it actually worked.

His first problem was finding it in himself to trust Lucius. Then, of course, there was Harry to consider. He needed to make certain that the kids would be safe, and was not convinced that Hogwarts was the best place to remain. There were many things to discuss, but it was getting late. “Seeing as how you’ve left us with only six days, Malfoy-“

“Apparate to Diagon Alley tomorrow night. Dumbledore is already…ah…aware of the details.” Lucius explained.

Tapping their wands together, Sirius and Remus activated their concealing charm and with a nod to Lucius and Fawkes, disappeared out the door.

* * * * *

Moonlight streamed in from the windows, casting the room in a silvery shadow. Madame Pomfrey had indeed furnished him with cold water and some clean rags, and Harry was more than a little glad to find that it was actually working. Draco’s once flushed, sickly-looking skin was slowly returning to its usual…pale.

Much to his chagrin, he had found that the easiest way to keep watch of Draco was to sit beside him in the large bed. The only magic he had conjured was a charm Hermione had taught him to keep things cold, which was helping greatly. Cold rags failed to be of much use once they grew tepid. “Come on, open your eyes.” He whispered, ignoring the way his own eyes kept wanting to close. “I am not going to fall asleep. I promised.”

Well, Madame Pomfrey had told him explicitly to contact her if he needed to, but he was just stubborn enough to remain awake all night.

* * * * *

One hour had passed, then two. He had watched the moon-created shadows crawl across the floor, along the walls. It was not until thirty past two that Draco’s fever finally broke. Harry, who had been absently staring out the window, nearly jumped out of his skin when Draco cleared his throat. Fixing his eyes on the fair-haired boy, Harry felt a small smile make its way to the surface. “Feeling better?”

His eyes glassy and slightly unfocused, Draco managed a nod. “Thirsty.” He rasped out.

“Accio! water!” Harry said softly. The large carafe of chilled water that had been left for them floated gently to the table. After pouring two glasses, handing one to Draco and downing the other one, he shifted on the bed, suddenly uncomfortable.

“You took care of me.” It was not a question.

“Madame Pomfrey said there was nothing she could do, since we couldn’t wake you up for the chilling potion,” He paused to pour more water. “I knew an old Muggle cure, and convinced the old bat to let me give it a go.”

The smile on Draco’s face lit up the area around them. “You…sounded just like me, Potter.”

Laughing quietly, Harry nodded. “You are a bad influence on me.”

“Oh sure, blame the Slytherin,” he tore away a few of what appeared to be about seven blankets. “You look about as tired as I feel, Harry.”

He thought about denying it, but gave up, as a face-splitting yawn broke free. “I’ve been awake for close to twenty-four hours.”

Draco rolled onto his side, facing Harry. “Get some sleep, we can go back to bickering in the morning.” He teased, tossing him a blanket before closing his eyes.

There was a grand moment of uncertainty as Harry pondered whether or not to stay where he was, or retreat back to his own bed. The decision had been made, however, when Draco’s voice entered his mind with one word.

//Stay…//

* * * * *

“Lie here and rest your head, and dream of something else instead.”

-Dido “Slide”

* * * * *

The powerful mixture of pure, raw exhaustion and slightly tamed, heart-pounding…giddiness lulled Harry and Draco into what began as a dreamless slumber. Yet, as the night wore on, Draco became increasingly aware of the fact that Harry was growing distressed. Their mental link, growing stronger every moment, began flashing disturbing images every now and then. Harry, no older than three years old, crying as he was placed inside a dark…cabinet to sleep with no nightlight, calling out softly for his mum. The image faded, switching instead to that of a shrew-faced woman hitting Harry over the head with a frying pan. Then to Harry, alone in a small bedroom, talking softly to Hedwig as he studied his schoolwork by wandlight.

It felt very odd, he thought, seeing Harry’s dreams. Yet, it was also strangely intimate, and he was certain that Harry, given a choice, would never want to share these images with anyone, least of all him. Unconsciously moving closer to Harry, he sincerely hoped his own sleep remained dream free.

Harry was shivering now in the dream, standing alone as Cedric Diggory lie dead beside him. The darkness was oppressing, twisting and pushing down on his chest as the images swirled into focus. Standing brave against the menacing group of Death Eaters, including Draco’s own father, Harry skillfully called the Triwizard cup to his hands, and grabbed Cedric before the image faded to black.

Damn, he thought, more than a bit taken back. His scariest dreams were of having to kiss Pansy with the lights on again.

A near-painful grasp on his left hand forced Draco’s eyes open then. Harry, tears running down his face as the dreams ravaged on, tossed and turned in the tangled blankets. Looking hopefully towards where Ron lay sleeping, he wondered if perhaps Ron had grown accustomed to Harry’s nightmares by now. If that were possible, that is.

Harry was calling out softly for his mum again, in a small voice that was not all together different now than it had been when he was small. Now fully awake, Draco was not aware of what horrors the dream had shifted to, and knew he had to do something. Grabbing Harry by the shoulders, he shook him gently, while calling his name. Harry fought him off, mumbling something about ‘snuffles’ being injured. Turning his voice to a low growl, Draco was finally able to rescue Harry from the horrors of his dreams.

Still crying, and quite frantic, Harry blinked as he tried to focus his glasses-free eyes on Draco. They were no more than an inch apart, twisted, tangled, and overwrought with emotions. Harry, shaking from both the dream and the extreme lack of sleep, leaned forward to place a quick kiss on Draco’s cheek. “Thank you.” He whispered, closing his eyes once more.

He had known it was coming, felt the charge between them a moment before Harry had moved, but the simple action of Harry’s chaste kiss brought tears to his eyes. He should be repulsed, shocked, mad even.

He was not any of those.

His heart beat madly in his chest, as he entwined Harry’s hands with his own and shifted a bit so that Harry’s head rested on his shoulder. They had shared one hell of a night, and Draco knew one thing: they could not have done it without each other.

* * * * *

The next afternoon, since the three boys had slept through the morning hours, Draco sat on his bed, staring unfocused at the ceiling. Hermione had brought lunch in for them about a hour ago, before she and Harry had decided to take a walk. It had been strangely comfortable, waking up with Harry, and he was trying to wrap his brain around it. He was not…gay, was he? No. He did not feel any attraction to boys…just Harry.

Except it was not attraction, exactly. It was deeper, clichéd as that may sound. Of course, he could just blame it on the damn curse controlling his emotions, and that may very well be playing a part, but there was more to it than that.

Wasn’t there?

“Arrgh!” He exclaimed, rubbing at his temples. How did he get here anyway? In this position, debating over whether or not to allow himself to feel something for Harry Fucking Potter. Too late, his inner voice chimed in, you already feel something. “No!”

Across the room, lying on his back with his head dangling off the side of the bed, Ron rolled onto his stomach. “Something wrong, Draco?”

Yes, no, yes…maybe. “No.”

Ron nodded a slight smile on his freckled face. “Right then. What’s with the internal debate?”

Looking at him pointedly, Draco bit out his next words. “You would do well, Weasley, to stay out of my private thoughts.”

Unsure whether or not to laugh or roll his eyes, Ron settled for the latter. “So we’re back to that again, are we. Well, Malfoy, you can talk to me, mind. I’m not about to give you a hard time about anything.”

Draco said nothing, focusing his attentions instead on the place where Harry had been sleeping not more than two hours ago. Could he really talk to Ron about this? No, he mused, he could not even talk to himself about it yet.

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?” Ron half-whispered.

Remaining silent, Draco tried his best to ignore the question. It’s Harry, isn’t it? “When is not Harry?” Leaving a confused Ron behind, Draco walked determinedly towards the bathroom.

* * * * *

“Why are you so quiet this morning?” Hermione asked Harry, offering him a piece of her orange.

“Afternoon.” Harry corrected her, managing a smile.

She waved it off. “Are you okay, Harry?”

With a grand sigh, Harry got to his feet and extended his hand to Hermione. “Let’s walk a bit more, and I’ll explain.” At her nod, he continued. “To say that I…that we had a long night would be putting it mildly. It was near three when Draco’s fever finally broke, and when we finally fell asleep…”

“Was it a bad one?” She asked, already well aware of his tortuous nightmares.

He nodded. “I could feel him there, in my dream…watching, trying to help, trying to pull me out of it. I…I’ve never felt anything like that before.” His voice was filled with quiet reverence. “When I finally woke up, he was…holding my hands, trying to calm me down. I-“

“I’m guessing this isn’t Ron were talking about?”

“I kissed him. On the cheek.” Harry went on, undeterred. He saw Hermione’s eyes widen and blushed. “He…we fell back to sleep in a jumbled mess of blankets and now I feel just as jumbled, if not more.”

Reaching into her bag, Hermione pulled out another orange and placed it inside Harry’s hand. “It doesn’t have to mean any more than you want it to, Harry. Don’t allow this curse to play with your emotions any more than it already has.”

“Trying to force feed me vitamin C?” He joked, tossing the orange from hand to hand. When Hermione did not return his easy grin, he sobered. “I was gay before the curse, and I’ll still be when it’s all over. If my…attraction for Draco has…if I even have an attraction for him, that is. Oh, bugger.” Frustrated, he dug his nails into the puckered orange peel and ripped away a tiny piece. “I do, don’t I?”

Considering him with a raised eyebrow, Hermione nodded. “Love is blind.”

Harry looped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer as they arrived back inside. “You are an evil woman, Ms.. Granger.”

* * * * *

It’s Harry…

Resting his head against the cool tiles in the shower, Draco could not recall a time when he had been more confused. Damn the curse and all it stood for! He should be back in the dungeons, back causing trouble for Gryffindors not…

Sleeping with them, laughing with them…liking them.

Yet, how boring. How positively…mind numbing it all seemed now. He could not compare having a witty conversation with Hermione to trying to get Goyle to speak in complete sentences.

It’s Harry, isn’t it?

Squeezing his eyes shut against the steady spray of water, he willed the image of a sleep-tossed Harry from his mind. The sun had just begun to creep into the sky when he had awoken again. Harry, exhausted from both the long day and the nightmares, was sound asleep…across his chest. One hand had been unconsciously entwined with his, and the other rested lightly on his collarbone. Draco hated to admit it, but nobody…not even Narcissa, had ever been that close to him. The few fumbling times he’d slept with Pansy, he’d kicked her back into the girls dormitory right after.

Not that he had done anything like that with Harry.

Sleeping with another person, really sleeping, was a rather intimate experience. He guessed that Harry had not had much experience there either, if the nightmares about sleeping in the cupboard were true. He thought about how odd it was that he and Harry had grown up nearly the same, but Draco’s awful relatives were his own parents.

It’s Harry, isn’t it?

Yes, he thought with a grimace, it’s Harry. Turning off the water, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. Wiping the steam from the mirror with a pale hand, Draco suddenly remembered that there was a good chance Harry…and Ron for that matter…could hear his thoughts. Although, were the flimsy shields they had constructed still in place? No, he knew that there was no way they could be.

Splendid.

Yet, why wasn’t he able to hear Harry’s thoughts? No matter, struggling to remember the words that had effectively shielded him from Harry, he whispered them quietly. It was then that the room began to swim around him in a garish display of steam, towels and mirrors. Fighting to remain on his feet, he made a desperate reach for the doorknob only to have his hand slide clear off. The momentum threw him crashing to floor, causing quite the clatter. The floor was cold beneath him, and he felt goose bumps race across the surface of his skin. He was still lying there when the door opened to reveal Harry, Ron and Hermione. “Harry…” He whispered, trying to sit up.

Hermione moved aside, and Draco swore he saw something pass briefly between her and Harry before the boys green eyes were above his. “What happened?” Harry asked, gingerly helping him sit up all the way.

Trying desperately to ignore the fact that he was clad in nothing more than a towel, Draco shook his head. How could he explain what he did not understand himself? “I…I don’t know.” Harry’s warm hands passed over his chest as he helped him to his feet, leaving something akin to fire in their wake, causing him to shiver in response. Thankfully, Harry took this to mean that Draco was cold, and asked Hermione and Ron to find some clean robes.

“I’m not sure myself,” Harry explained, nervously stuffing his hands into his pockets. “But I bet it has something to do with that shielding spell.”

Ah yes, that sodding shielding spell. “We weren’t…shielding last night, had they worn off?” Wincing at his utter lack of coherent English, Draco silently willed Hermione to find him any robes. Even Weasley’s best new old ones. Anything was better than having to stand so close to Harry with nothing more than flimsy cotton covering his bits.

Moreover, Harry was either a very good actor, or had found a way to focus his attentions elsewhere, because his expression gave away nothing. “I…your shields were already pretty worthless when Hermione finally found you. I heard you call my name, but the room was spinning around me as well.”

“I don’t remember much of that. So, Hermione actually waltzed into the dungeons and proceeded to-“

“Carry your sorry arse all the way here? Yes, that would be me. You might be needing to explain a few things to your girlfriend, she seemed a bit miffed with me.” Hermione retorted, tossing Draco a familiar set of robes.

“Pansy is not my girlfriend, as much as she would like to believe it. Not that I blame her, really.” He tried to disarm Hermione with his most devastating smile, but as usual, it failed straightaway.

Meanwhile, Draco could sense that Harry’s eyes were starting to wander. Chalking it up to the bloody curse connecting them, he tried to remain unaffected as a slow blush crept up from his toes.

There was a long moment of awkward silence, broken only when Hermione cleared her throat. “You should change, Dumbledore’s on his way down to speak with us. Harry, maybe you should make sure he’s all right before leaving him alone?”

Now, that time Draco was certain he saw Hermione wink at Harry, who in turn turned red as a beet. Of course, he was also certain that they assumed he had not seen that; it was only by glancing up into the mirror, and catching all the right angles that he had. Truth be told, he was still rather dizzy, but he did not need Harry helping him get dressed.

That would make me dizzy for other reasons I would rather not contemplate.

“I can dress myself, Granger.” He bit out, smiling slightly as her eyes narrowed.

“Right then. Harry, you coming?”

Not thinking about that either…

Harry was eying him warily, but nodded in agreement. “I’ll be right outside the door.” He mumbled, shutting the door behind him as he left.

Glancing into the mirror, Draco stuck his tongue out at the image reflected there. “Harry fucking Potter.”

* * * * *

As it turned out, Dumbledore had decided to keep them waiting until early evening. Harry and Ron had kept themselves busy playing chess, whilst Hermione and Draco ruminated over advanced Arithmancy problems. How anyone could understand Hermione’s lightning quick mind and tendency to become greatly enthused over schoolwork, Harry would never know. Yet, Draco seemed content to argue with her, slyly pointing out solutions she had not thought of. Harry guessed that he never really took time to realize just how smart Draco was. Since he and Ron had not ever enrolled in Arithmancy, and Hermione never mentioned it, he had no idea that Draco was enrolled as well.

Then again, he supposed that there were hundreds of things he did not know about Draco Malfoy.

When Dumbledore finally did arrive, Harry had been defeated at least seven times, and Hermione was quoting Hogwarts: A History, to a very bemused Draco. It was that strange moment of day, somewhere in between late afternoon and evening, and the sun cast a red-orange halo across the room. Glancing at them from above his half-moon shaped glasses, Dumbledore handed them each a scroll and took a seat. “I trust you are both feeling better. I will ask that you refrain from casting another shielding spell.” He looked pointedly at Draco, who threw his hands up in defense.

“Had it been explained to us beforehand, that something like that could happen…I mean, honestly,“ the Slytherin exclaimed, rubbing his temples furiously. “Had it not been for Harry…”

Blushing to the tips of his callused fingers, Harry tried to push the innocent kiss they had shared from his mind. To his chagrin, not only had Draco caught his eye briefly, but he could also see Ron stewing this information in his brain. Bully for me. He could almost swear that Dumbledore was in on the ‘secret’ as well, but their kindly Headmaster merely smiled.

“Yes, Harry was able to unconsciously help you when you needed it most. Partly due to the gentle prodding of the Commendo Lateo charm, yet mostly out of honest concern for your well being.” Dumbledore explained.

Reverting his eyes to the floor, Harry wondered if he should mention anything about Draco being inside his dream. While the experience had not been awful…quite the opposite…he did not need it becoming a regular occurrence. Hermione was eyeing him curiously, her brown eyes shining in a way that told him she was thinking in overdrive yet again. He thought about saying something along their bond, but Dumbledore’s next words caught him unaware.

“You, Harry, were blessed with friends who care about you, provide you with the support-“

Harry could see Draco bristling at this, angrily tugging on the silver clasp of his robe. It was too much to handle, Harry thought bitterly. While those around them meant well, everyone always means well, the four of them were having to figure out things on their own and doing a crap job of it. “This is a bit mad, Professor, if you don’t mind me saying so. One moment we’re cursed, then…then, and I mean, we still don’t know about that, really,” Getting to his feet, Harry began to pace. “I understand that…as teachers you must allow us to make our own decisions and consequent mistakes, but…you didn’t spend the night wondering if your friend was going to be OK! No, leave us to our own devices, and then clean up the mess. It’s all very aggravating.”

Seemingly out of steam, Harry sank down beside Draco once again. Ron and Hermione were starting at him wide-eyed, but Dumbledore, as always, appeared non-pulsed. Leaning forward, he tapped the tip of his wand to their scrolls and let out a heavy sigh. “There are things I cannot tell you, Harry. Not yet, and perhaps not ever. There are things that are being kept from you, from all of you,” He paused, giving them a moment of read over the words that had just appeared. “You are important, to me…to Hogwarts, to the Wizard Community. Never have I seen such a strong protection bond, not even the one I helped your parents with, Harry. That is why, until I am convinced it is safe for you to return, you will be spending the rest of seventh year away from Hogwarts.”

* * * * *

The words had passed through Draco’s ears, but simply refused to process themselves. He guessed that the old coot had finally gone mad. Harry and Hermione were staring at Dumbledore; the former's mouth opening and closing like an air-starved merperson. Ron, having given up on the entire scenario, had fallen back onto his bed, arms strewn across his eyes in resignation. It seemed that the righteous indignation and witty repertoire would have to come from him, as usual. The problem was, he was out of words now.

“I understand that this comes as a great shock,” Dumbledore added, rising majestically to his feet once again. “Your parents have been informed, and are aware of the situation of course. Harry, I did inform the Dursleys, although I daresay it took poor Hedwig several tries.”

Smiling bitterly at this, Harry shook his head. “You needn’t inform them of my whereabouts; they’d rather I just jump into the Thames and end it all anyway.”

Having ‘seen’ firsthand, the horrid treatment Harry received from his Muggle relatives, Draco knew Harry was not lying. Truth be told, he wondered how old Lucius took the news; he’d be sure to see it as another blundering failure worthy of a month’s sentence in his room. Right then, perhaps spending time away from both home and Hogwarts wasn’t that mad of an idea. “Where, may I ask, will we will staying then?”

Dumbledore pointed at the parchments they were each holding. Well, Ron’s had floated determinedly to rest right under his nose. “Each of you holds part of the address in your hands. You have until the rest of the evening to work it out, and then you are expected to have a plan to get you there by morning. Oh, and if you will all read the first line for me, one at a time, please.”

Staring at one another curiously, Draco noticed that Hermione’s eyes had widened considerably as she read over the written words. Clearing her throat, she pointed towards him. “Go on then, Draco.”

Right. “From pale into dark, across the sky you will sail. From pale to bright, deep into the night.” He read, his brows knitting together in confusion. Nevertheless, he sat back as Harry began.

“Chasing after the sun, flying so high, across the blue sky, until morning is nigh.” Harry’s voice was quiet, and Draco could hear him muttering the words to himself again after having spoken them aloud.

“Red and brown, colors of earth, find you a plan, or blue be your worth.” Came the slightly mumbled words from Ron, still lying on his back.

Finally, it was Hermione’s turn. “Completing the cycle, changing night into day, sleep peacefully you shall, safe and far away.”

For a long moment, nothing exciting happened at all. Then, glancing quickly at Harry, he nearly fell off the bed. “Bloody hell, Potter.” He whispered, his breath catching in his throat.

“You could, er, say that again, Draco.” Harry whispered, staring at a smiling Dumbledore. Their mysteriously mad Headmaster was still chuckling when he left the room.

Oh yes, they were in trouble now.