Lumos Obscurum

Chapter 14 - The Last Resort

Monday morning arrived, and it brought with it an unexpected agitation among the students of Hogwarts.

"Did you hear?"

"Have you seen it yet?"

"I can't believe it!"

Students whispered violently to each other in the corridors as Harry headed toward the Great Hall for his morning meal. Harry glanced around uneasily. What in the world had happened now?

"How did it happen?"

"You got me. It's just like last year all over again..."

Was it his imagination, or were one or two students giving him interested looks as he passed? Harry quickened his pace, his feeling of foreboding growing.

He entered the Great Hall, and saw Ron waving frantically from his place at the Gryffindor table with Hermione. He hurried over. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"Harry!" Hermione looked up from her newspaper with grim expression on her face. "It's awful!"

Harry snatched up the paper. The front page was completely dominated by a headline that stated in big, bold lettering:

"Alleged Death Eater Lucius Malfoy Escapes From Azkaban"

No. Harry's mouth went dry. "It can't be," he said.

"It is," Ron said gloomily. He took the paper from Harry and looked at the article, though Harry knew he must've read it several times by now. "It says that he disappeared from Azkaban prison sometime in the pre-dawn hours of yesterday morning. Nobody knows how he got out."

Yesterday. Yesterday was Sunday... that was the morning he had woken with a terrible pain in his scar... and a great feeling of overwhelming delight.

"No," Harry said numbly. "Oh no."

That must've been it. He hadn't given much thought of it at the time, he was too preoccupied by his and Draco's mission to the Ministry to retrieve Lucius' source material on the Killing Curse. He hadn't really thought of the full implications of what he had experienced that night.

But he knew now. He knew that he had indeed felt Voldemort's emotions again... for the first time in months. He didn't want to let himself admit it... didn't even want to think about it. But now there was nothing else left to do... he had to acknowledge that Voldemort's power was growing... that he had actually felt the dark lord inside his mind.

And that the horrible things of last year were about to start all over again.

"Harry," he became aware that Hermione was speaking to him. "Harry, are you all right?"

"I felt it," he gazed at her dimly. "I felt it yesterday morning... when he escaped."

"You felt it?" Hermione repeated.

"You mean when you woke up with your scar hurting? You said it was nothing!" Ron accused.

"I could feel Voldemort. He was happy about something... but I didn't know what."

"You seemed to have forgotten to tell me about that part," Ron frowned darkly at him.

"I didn't think it was important," Harry muttered. Although, he knew it was more that he didn't want it to have been important.

"Well it is important!" Hermione said emphatically. She folded her arms. "You should've told us right away when this happened. If you're starting to feel what Voldemort is feeling again, that's not a good sign."

"You don't think I know that?" he snapped at her. "That's why I didn't want to accept it."

"Next time something like this happens, you need to tell us right away," Hermione ordered.

"I'm hoping there isn't a next time," Harry said dismally.

"Wonder how Malfoy's taking this," Ron mused before putting a spoonful of eggs in his mouth.

Harry glanced sharply up towards the Slytherin table, but the blond boy was nowhere to be seen. Malfoy... he thought. No matter how disconcerting this news had been to them, he was sure that it must be a hundred times worse for Draco.

"I have to find him," Harry muttered. "I have to make sure he's all right."

Hermione looked anxious. "You haven't eaten anything. And we have class!"

Harry scowled. It was true he had been skipping class an awful lot lately... and he knew he must have fallen very behind in his work. But suddenly, all of that didn't seem to matter very much.

He half-started out of his seat-

"What about this Lucius Malfoy news, eh?" Seamus Finnigan's voice rang in as he and Dean Thomas appeared above them.

With an irritated sigh at the interruption, Harry sat back down.

Seamus and Dean took their seats across from Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and both helped themselves to generous portions of eggs and sausage.

"It's just like what happened with Sirius Black in third year," Seamus waved his fork around. "Do you reckon old Lucius has gone to join up with him?"

Hermione glanced nervously at Harry, but Harry's face had closed up.

"No," Hermione answered. "We don't know what is going on."

"Maybe Black taught Lucius how to escape the prison before he was caught," Dean pondered.

"I'll bet that murderer told every Death Eater out there how to escape," Seamus further chewed over. "It probably won't be long now before they all break out to rejoin Black. He's supposed to be second-in-command, after all."

"I've got to go," Harry said, standing up abruptly and shouldering his bag.

The four of them gazed after his retreating back.

"Was it something I said?" Seamus blinked.

***

Harry hurried down the hall in the exact opposite direction of his morning classes - towards the dungeons.

He was actually thankful that Seamus and Dean had showed up. Though it had initially delayed his escape, they had presented the perfect opportunity for him to leave when they begun the talk about Sirius. Hermione and Ron, he was sure, expected him to go sulk about it for a few hours now. They probably wouldn't even ask any questions if he didn't show up for class.

But instead, he took advantage of this opportunity to track down Draco Malfoy.

The discussion of his godfather had hardly affected him. It felt rather weird, really, to not have an unpleasant reaction to any mention of Sirius's name, as he did for all of last summer. But finding Draco... making sure he was safe... this was far more important than anything else right now.

He arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory, and waited impatiently outside.

The first person to come through the door in the wall was a stringy little boy who was probably in second or third year.

Harry stopped him. "I need to speak with Draco Malfoy."

"What's it to me?" the kid scoffed.

Harry drew himself up and glared down at the boy. "I'm in no mood for games," Harry growled. "Get in there, and tell him to come out."

The boy backed away. "Hey now, just relax. I don't think he's even in there."

"He's not?" Harry said. "Where is he?"

"How should I know?" the kid rolled his eyes, then shouldered pass Harry and disappeared down the hall, muttering under his breath.

Prat, Harry thought.

Bollocks. What could he try next? Draco definitely wasn't at breakfast, Harry would have seen him. Would he have gone to class? He wasn't even sure what Draco's first class was...

Wait a moment.

Harry couldn't believe how stupid he was. He very nearly smacked himself, but that would have wasted precious seconds.

He sprinted upstairs and back up to Gryffindor Tower, on his way to fetch the Marauder's Map.

He made it to the dormitory in record time, and soon retrieved the map from the bottom of his trunk.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry said softly, prodding the map with his wand. Instantly, the map of Hogwarts and the surrounding grounds blossomed over the parchment. Harry peered closely at the array of moving dots, searching for Draco.

Blast it, where was that boy? He didn't seem to be anywhere inside the castle... wait, there he was. His dot was floating along the grounds just near the lake... it appeared to be pacing back and forth.

"Mischief managed," Harry wiped the map clean and replaced it, sending a quick thought of thanks to the Weasley twins before setting off after Draco.

He arrived at the lake a few moments later, and it was easy to spot Draco's figure with his back to Harry. He was now sitting silently on a rock, the morning sun reflecting gently off his blond hair as he stared into the serene lake.

"Malfoy," he called.

Draco turned, and didn't look at all surprised to see him.

"Hello, Potter," he acknowledged. "I had wondered how long it would take for you to find me."

Harry eased forward. "How are you?" he asked cautiously.

Draco shrugged, his expression neutral. "I could use a hair cut and a new set of wizard's chess pieces, now that you mention it. Are you just going to stand there all day?"

Harry sat on the smooth rock next to Draco, their shoulders brushing together. "I meant about what was in the news this morning."

Draco shrugged again. "So my dad's free again, what's it got to do with me?"

"That's what I was wondering."

Draco sighed. "I doubt I am his first priority, Potter. I'm sure he has plenty of other things to do... plotting the end of the world is no small feat, I'm sure."

"You don't think he and Voldemort would try to get you again?" Harry ventured.

"Don't worry, Potter. It's not like he can just Apparate here and drag me away with him. Hogwarts is protected, isn't it?"

"Theoretically," Harry murmured.

Draco ignored this. "I'm planning on staying here over school holidays... so I won't really have anything to worry up until summer begins, which is ages away. I'll figure it out then."

Harry stared downwards and noticed that his hand was resting on the rock just next to Draco's. He fought off the sudden urge to take Draco's hand in his own.

He shivered, and withdrew himself slightly. He stared over the tranquil lake, wondering where that strange inclination had come from. He decided it was because he knew, somehow, that it would offer the other boy comfort. But Harry didn't think that Draco would readily accept that almost-intimate gesture from him. Plus, it was vaguely disturbing.

He tried to push the thought from his mind and return to the present. Despite Draco's assurances, Harry was still concerned. They had no reason to believe that Voldemort had given up on taking Draco into his clutches. And now that Lucius Malfoy had escaped, Voldemort may try to use him to get to his son.

"Are you sure there's nothing to worry about?" Harry asked after a moment.

"I'm sure," Draco said stubbornly.

A pause.

"Then why are you moping out here on the lake all by yourself?"

To this, Draco had no answer.

***

After a while, Harry left Draco to his solitude. He drifted through the day, attending his classes but not really aware of what was being said in the lectures. His mind was too preoccupied. Draco had said not to worry, yet Harry found it impossible not to.

This feeling of detachment remained throughout the late afternoon, as he, Ron, and Hermione gathered in the library to continue with their research. The three of them were rather surprised that Draco had shown up as well, and was already at their usual table, halfway through a large textbook.

"Hello, Malfoy," Hermione said warily.

"'Lo," Draco said, not lifting his eyes from the text.

"I didn't think you'd be joining us today."

Draco shrugged ambiguously. "We have a job to do, don't we?"

"Er - right," Hermione said, shooting Harry a vaguely suspicious look, but Harry didn't meet her eyes. "Well then, we'd best get started," she took her seat. "Ron, why don't you continue with that book on potions you were reading last night? Here's a new one for you, Harry."

She handed him a book and Harry mechanically opened it and stared at the tiny print.

"This session had better not last long," he dimly heard Draco's voice as he drifted into his own thoughts. "Supper is soon, you know..."

Harry stared down blankly at the words and they blurred together.

Research, he thought crossly to himself. Always more research. Always more thinking, and less doing.

We've been at this for what feels like forever. The only thing we've found is that cryptic prophecy... and that hasn't been of much help, has it? Harry stifled a sigh. They were wasting their time, he knew they were. And even more so, the situation was getting worse. Voldemort could strike at any time.

And what about Malfoy? A voice in his head asked. With Lucius out of prison...

Harry closed his eyes and drew his brows together. He didn't want to think about the possibility of something bad happening to Draco. He wouldn't be able to bear it.

"Harry?" Ron's voice interrupted his thoughts. "You look out of it, mate. What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he muttered.

"He's brooding," Draco said a-matter-of-factly.

"I don't brood," Harry stated without looking up.

"Yes, you do," Draco told him. He turned to the others. "He can brood for 40 minutes straight. I've clocked him."

"You have not." Harry pried open his eyes and looked up at last. "And I do not brood," he repeated.

"Yeah?" Draco challenged. "Well then, what do you call what you're doing right now, eh? Go on."

"Well, I'm...." Harry paused, considering, and reluctantly realised he could only come up with one conclusion. "Brooding."

"Hah!" Draco said triumphantly. "That'll teach you to doubt the intellect of Draco Malfoy. Now if you'll all excuse me, supper beckons. Didn't find anything enlightening in here anyway..."

With that, he closed his book, replaced it on the shelf, and walked out.

"He still annoys me, too. I say we just kill him," Ron said merrily.

"Nobody's going to kill him," Harry said steadily... and maybe feeling just a tad too overprotective.

"Calm down, mate, I was just trying to make a joke."

Harry glanced over at the shelf where Draco had replaced the text he had finished reading. "That's, what, the two hundredth book we've read?" he grumbled.

"I would say three hundredth," Ron said.

Harry exhaled. "That's not the point."

"Mind telling us what your point is, then?" Hermione asked mildly.

"The point is that we're not accomplishing anything here," Harry replied angrily. "We've been at this for over a month, and we haven't found one bloody helpful thing."

"We did find that puzzle-" Ron started to say.

"And we haven't managed to figure out what the damned thing means, have we?" Harry cut in.

"We're doing the best we can, Harry," Hermione looked strained.

"Maybe our best isn't good enough," Harry said, frustrated. He took a deep breath, trying fruitlessly to quench his rising dread. "Time is running out. We're needlessly tossing away what little we have left."

"How can you know that?"

"I just do, all right?" Harry snapped. "Something bad happened not very long after the last Azkaban escape. Something's going to happen soon. I can feel it."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well what do you suggest we do, Harry?" Ron's voice was rather cool. "Do you have a better solution?"

Harry paused. "Yes," he answered. "Yes I do."

And he walked out of the library without a further word, leaving Hermione and Ron staring open-mouthed after him.

Harry made his way down the stone corridor, and into the Great Hall, which was filled with a mass of students just beginning to eat their evening meal. He found Draco at the edge of the Slytherin table, and walked straight over to him.

"Malfoy," he said when he reached the other boy's shoulder.

Draco glanced up, startled. "Potter? What is it?"

Harry glanced around and lowered his voice. "There are no other options left. You need to help me learn the curse. Now."

"Now?" Draco repeated, sounding absolutely scandalised. "I'm eating."

"This is important," Harry insisted.

"So is my supper!"

"What's more important, your supper, or the fate of the world?"

Draco paused, considering this.

"Malfoy!" Harry said exasperatedly.

"I'm thinking," Draco said. "Don't rush me."

"C'mon," Harry grunted as he pulled on Draco's arm to drag him out of his seat.

"All right, all right," Draco scowled, wrenching his arm out of Harry's grasp and brushing himself off. "No need to get rough."

After Draco had retrieved the stolen manuscript from its hiding place in Draco's trunk, the two journeyed outdoors and walked to the edges of the Forbidden Forest. Luckily, it was nearly dark by that time, so Harry didn't think anybody had seen them.

They found a small clearing just inside the Forest, and Draco lit a small fire with his wand to give them some light.

"All right," Draco said finally. "You want to collect the bugs to practise on, or should I?"

Harry blinked, and frowned. It was true they had used insects to perform the Cruciatus Curse on during the summer. But for some reason, Harry felt uncomfortable with the idea of doing it again... of extinguishing the life from innocent creatures. The irony of the curse he was about to learn, weighed against this newfound benevolent feeling, didn't escape him.

"Let's skip the bugs this time," Harry suggested.

Draco looked at him thoughtfully but didn't push matters. "Okay," Draco said. "I doubt you'll get it right the first time, anyway," he added casually. Purposefully ignoring Harry's sharp glance, Draco opened the bound pages to the appropriate place.

"I looked over this for a bit last night," Draco said, his tone all business now. "Avada Kedavra requires a fair bit of skill, and, not surprisingly, a tremendous amount of power to be channelled through the wand."

Harry nodded, and pushed all extraneous thought from his head, now only focusing on this task laid before him.

"The wizard will choose his... well, it says prey here, but I guess you can just aim for a rock or something," Draco said. He continued reading, "The wizard will choose his prey, and he will need to focus all his energy, and all his ability, on smothering the life force within the victim. The wizard must concentrate his raw power through the wand, aiming directly at the intended target. For best results, use only when the wizard is at full strength." Draco looked up. "You got all that, Potter?"

"I got it," Harry rolled up his sleeves and withdrew his wand from his back pocket.

Draco turned the page. "The wizard must say the incantation with full confidence. He will not feel any pain, nor any remorse for the deed that will be done. Only with a full acceptance, and no less, may this curse be performed. The wizard is warned that there is no countercurse, no reversal... etcetera, etcetera. Blimey, these warnings go on for the entire page," Draco said, skimming it quickly.

"Never mind the warnings," Harry said tersely. He had grown more and more tense as Draco read. The full impact of what he was about to do has suddenly hit him, and he was feeling more than a little uneasy about the whole thing. It's the only way, he told himself fiercely.

"Let's just do it," Harry said.

"Okay," Draco put the book down on the grass, and looked expectantly at Harry. "Well, have a go, then."

Harry gripped his wand tighter than was necessary as he took aim at a small log on the ground. He lifted his wand-

"Wait, wait!" Draco scrambled up and moved behind Harry.

"What is it?" Harry glanced over his shoulder to look questionably at the other boy.

"You were aiming too close to me."

"I thought you said there was no way I'd get this right on my first try," Harry said.

"I did," Draco said indignantly. "I just refuse to bet my life on it, is all."

"Well don't worry," Harry said.

"Go on then, Potter," Draco's voice said from behind him. "Get to it."

Harry took a deep breath, and once again took careful aim at the small log. He steadied himself, and said tentatively, "Avada Kedavra!"

He felt something large shiver through his wand, causing a jolt to run up his arm. But whatever had whispered out the end of his wand fizzled out immediately after it had formed.

"Ah, see?" Draco's voice sounded much more at ease now. "Told you it was harder than it looks."

"I knew it would be," Harry retorted. "Now be quiet, and let me concentrate."

He raised his wand and tried the spell again, this time with more confidence. "Avada Kedavra!"

Something large and powerful whooshed out the end of his wand, and the sounds of the forest quieted, leaving Harry with a feeling of a suffocating silence. It was a green mist that hovered in the air before him for half an instant, then it dissolved into nothing, and the forest sounds returned.

"Better," Draco said. "Still not right, though."

Harry gritted his teeth, and tried once more.

He kept at it for more than an hour, but he never produced anything stronger than that green mist which had formed on his second try. By the end, Harry was left feeling quite exhausted.

"I think that's enough for now," Draco said, sensing Harry's weariness.

"No, I'm okay, I can try once more," Harry protested.

"Don't be ridiculous, Potter, you're about to fall over on the spot," Draco picked up the manuscript and tucked it inside his robes. "Besides, you haven't produced anything of worth in the last fifteen minutes."

"All right, all right," Harry said grudgingly. Draco did have a point, he didn't seem to have made much progress over the last few attempts. He stifled a tired yawn as he and Draco headed back up towards the castle. It was now pitch black out, and he and Draco lit the ends of their wands to light the path.

"Tomorrow, then?" Harry asked him. "Same time?"

Draco considered him. "If you aren't feeling too fatigued. That curse takes a lot out of you."

"I'll be fine by tomorrow," Harry said, holding back another yawn. He hoped so, at any rate.

The reached the entrance hall, and paused by the grand staircase.

"Well, see you tomorrow," Harry said.

"See you," Draco echoed, and turned down the hallway leading to the dungeons, and Harry ascended the stairs up towards Gryffindor tower. Once he reached his room, he flopped down onto his bed and fell asleep without even bothering to change out of his robes.

***

Harry practised the Killing Curse with Draco over the next couple of evenings, under the cover of the Forest. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to be having much success, and was feeling very frustrated with himself.

They were forced on Friday evening to push back their scheduled practise time, because Harry had yet another Occlumency lesson to endure directly after dinner. His concentration during this lesson was more abysmal than any of the previous times, because his mind was still preoccupied with learning Avada Kedavra. And he could tell that Snape was fast losing his patience, which was not a good thing.

"Potter!" Snape's nostrils flared. "This is the fifth time tonight you've had to pick yourself off my office floor."

"Getting observant, are you?" Harry said coldly, brushing himself off and recovering from Snape's latest attack.

"That's enough of your lip, Potter," Snape said icily. "I have demanded lesson after lesson that you practise this. One would think that you would be more concerned about learning this properly. You know as well as I do what the implications of the Azkaban escape are."

"Yeah," Harry said before he could stop himself. "Yeah, you know because Voldemort probably told you himself..."

"Do <>," Snape's eyes flashed and he gripped his desk, "proceed to talk so indifferently about matters you know nothing about."

Harry raised his head resolutely. He was through letting himself be bullied by Snape. "I know enough to question where your loyalties really lay, even though I seem to be the only one doing so!"

Snape's lip curled. "Alone in a crowd... the only one brave enough to stand up and fight... that's always been your story, hasn't it? You are Perfect Potter, after all."

"Yeah, yeah that's right, I am," Harry said. "Or maybe I am just sick of taking orders from you. I know you don't give a damn about whether or not I actually learn this stuff. You're just doing it because Dumbledore made you. So the question is, why am I still here?"

"You're still here, Potter, because you are an insubordinate little boy who doesn't know what's good for him."

Harry gritted his teeth and felt his irritation grow. "I know just fine what is good for me, thanks," Harry said roughly. "I don't need anybody telling me so."

"Ah, so is your attachment to Mr. Draco Malfoy good for you, Potter?" Snape's eyes glinted in the dankness of his dungeon office.

Harry was caught off guard. "My... my what?"

"You heard me," Snape said coolly. "Your attachment. To Draco Malfoy. I've seen most of your memories and thoughts by now, Potter, including the ones of him. I must say, it's not something I had ever expected to happen." Here, Snape paused and smirked. "Really, it's a pity your defences weren't stronger."

Harry felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. All of the memories of Draco which Harry had tried so desperately to keep hidden... and now he knew Snape had seen them all.

But seeing them is one thing... to read too much into it and actually imply to Harry that his relationship with Draco was more than a casual friendship... when he didn't even know one bleeding thing about it!

Harry swallowed. "I've had enough," he spit out. "I don't have to take this from you anymore. I'm leaving."

He made for the office door, anger pulsating with every sharp footstep.

"That's right, Potter," Snape said lazily after him. "Run away from your problems... run away from things you don't understand."

Harry clenched his fists and slammed the door shut behind him, cutting off Snape's voice. Harry hurried upstairs to the entrance hall, where Draco would be waiting for him.

When he arrived, he found Draco leaning nonchalantly against the stairway's wide railing.

"You're early, Potter," Draco observed. "Had a good Occlumency lesson?"

"No," Harry said shortly. "Let's go."

Draco raised an eyebrow, but followed Harry outside without comment. It was almost completely dark, with just the last of the sun's rays disappearing over the horizon. Harry shivered slightly in the cool late October air.

"Rather chilly out here," Draco said.

Harry nodded. "It's the only place we can practise, though."

"Still..." Draco murmured, "better learn it soon, before winter comes.. I don't want to be out here in ten feet of snow. I might catch a cold," Draco looked distinctly unhappy at the thought of becoming ill.

"It's not going to take me that long," Harry said firmly, but privately he wondered, what if it really did take him that long? What if the time to confront Voldemort came, and he still couldn't perform the curse? What would he do?

Harry inhaled the cool air deeply. Don't worry about it, Harry told himself. Just focus on the here and now.

They reached the clearing in the Forbidden Forest and went into their routine of setting up the space. "All right, then," Draco said after he had lit a fire. "Let's see if you're any better at this tonight."

Harry nodded and quickly picked out a decrepit-looking tree as his target. He stood quietly for a moment, trying to focus all his energy at his objective. At last he let out his breath, took aim, and said, "Avada Kedavra!"

But all he got was that greenish haze that floated between him and his target for half a second before dissipating.

He tried not to let his frustration his frustration show, but Draco must have noticed it. "It's okay, Potter, try again," he encouraged quietly.

"Avada Kedavra!" And so it went on, and on, for a good long while. Yet with all his determination, Harry did not manage to produce a proper Killing Curse... not once.

On a low branch of a nearby tree, a night owl hooted at him. "Stop mocking me," Harry growled at it.

"I didn't say anything," Draco said in surprise.

"Not you," Harry snapped. He tapped his fingers against his wand impatiently, thinking hard.

I don't understand! he thought desperately. Learning Avada Kedavra is the right way... it's the only way, I know it is. So why can't I do it?

"I don't understand," he said again, this time out loud.

"You'll get it eventually," Draco said.

"Eventually isn't good enough!" Harry rounded on him. "I have no idea when or where Voldemort is going to make his move... it could be at any time! And I have to be ready."

Draco stood. "And there's not one single other person in the world to help you with this, is there? You'll have to defeat the Dark Lord all by yourself," he said sarcastically

"Yes," Harry said. "Don't you understand? It's me or him. It's the way it has to be... it's the way it's always been."

"And times can't change?" Draco folded his arms.

Harry turned away, aggravated. "You don't understand. Nobody understands."

It's not working, nothing's working, Harry thought uncontrollably. Nothing is working.

"I don't know what to do," Harry said forcefully. He lost control of himself then, in his frustration. Releasing his anger, he waved his wand haphazardly towards the interior of the Forest and shouted, "Crucio!"

The pure recklessness of the move, however, caused it to go awry. Something exploded out the wrong end of Harry's wand, and it flung him back off his feet, knocking his glasses off. The owl in the tree flew away in fright at the loud bang.

There was silence for a long moment, before Draco finally said, "Perhaps that wasn't the best idea."

Harry sat up, exasperated. "I had to do something. It's so frustrating.... Have you seen my glasses?" Harry asked, searching around on the ground with his hands.

"Here," Draco's voice was close, and Harry squinted and made out the blur that was Draco as the blond boy kneeled just in front of him. Harry's world swam into focus as Draco lightly replaced his glasses on his face. Then, as if noticing their close proximity, Draco flushed and looked away. Harry, too, felt his face grow warm for some reason, but he also felt his aggravation ease at this simple gesture. And his unpleasant evening suddenly improved.

"Er- thanks," Harry said, somewhat awkwardly. "Well, uh, I suppose that's enough for tonight."

Draco nodded. "Right," he said, and he stood up to gather up their things.

The two of them began quietly making their way back up to the castle. They walked for a few minutes before Draco spoke, probably to lessen the uneasy strain of the silence.

"So, it's Saturday tomorrow. Quidditch, eh?"

"Quidditch!" Harry felt his spirits rise. He had nearly forgotten they had a match. Gryffindor against... oh. Harry blinked and met Draco's eyes.

Draco smiled confidently. "Don't worry, Potter, I promise not to go too hard on you... we wouldn't want to leave Madam Hooch with a foul mess to wipe off the pitch, would we?"

Harry reluctantly felt a grin pull at the corners of his mouth. "You'll just be lucky if I don't catch the Snitch right from under your nose," Harry laughed.

Draco smirked. "We'll see tomorrow morning who gets the best of who," he said arrogantly.

"I've done it before," Harry warned. "I can do it again."

"A fluke," Draco waved his hand dismissively, "and nothing more."

"Sure, Malfoy," Harry grinned. "Believe what you want."

They arrived at the entrance hall, and were about to go their separate ways, when unexpectedly, they heard a shout coming from an adjacent corridor.

Startled, Harry glanced at Draco. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Draco said, peering intently down the somewhat darkened hallway. "We'd better go have a look."

Cursing under his breath, Harry started down the chilly hallway. What had happened now? As the two of them grew closer to the source of the disturbance, Harry's brow furrowed as he recognised one of the loud voices. "Wait a moment - that's Ron!"

Harry sprinted down the remainder of the hall. "Ron!" he yelled, and the voices quieted. Harry drew his wand as he rounded the corner and saw four or five Slytherins all gathered around a red-haired wizard laying prone on the floor.

"Get away from him!" he shouted angrily, brandishing his wand.

The Slytherins all glanced up unconcernedly as he approached. "And what do you intend on doing about it?" came Pansy Parkinson's icy voice, and Harry noticed that she was leaning against the wall, out of the way, and watching the whole thing with amusement.

"What's going on?" Draco had caught up, and was panting slightly.

"Draco!" Pansy said in surprise. Then her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing hanging around Harry Potter again?"

"That, my dear," Draco said, his eyes quickly taking in the scene, "does not concern you. What's going on?" he repeated.

"We were just having a bit of fun," Theodore Nott said smoothly.

Harry took a step forward. "Well your fun is over," he said menacingly. "I mean it. Get away, now."

Crabbe and Goyle moved forward, cracking their knuckles ominously. Harry noted in dismay that there were traces of blood on their knuckles which he didn't think were their own.

Draco moved swiftly in between them. "Go," he said to the Slytherins in a low voice.

Pansy's eyes widened and the rest of the Slytherins stared at Draco in shock. "Draco," Pansy said, frowning. "You don't want to join in?"

"You heard him," Draco said quietly, jerking his head towards Harry. "You've had enough fun for one night. Now go back to the dorm."

Pansy glared at him. "We'll have a talk about this when you return," she said threateningly.

Draco brushed his hair back from his eyes. "I'm sure we will. Now just go, already."

Crabbe and Goyle looked dearly like they still wanted to pummel Harry, but they, along with Pansy and Nott, reluctantly withdrew. Pansy cast one last scalding look back at Draco as they departed.

"I could've handled them," Harry told Draco as he hurried to Ron's side.

"I know," Draco said indifferently. "But I saved you the trouble. How bad is he?"

Harry winced as he examined Ron. It looked like they had hit him with a couple of jinxes in addition to the traditional battering. His nose was bloody, and a black eye seemed to be forming. "Bad," he answered.

He prodded Ron's shoulder gently. "Ron," he said softly. "Ron, can you hear me?"

With what looked like was a great struggle, Ron's eyes rolled open.

"Oh - hullo Harry," Ron smiled lopsidedly at him. His breathing sounded laboured to Harry's ears. "Doing rounds... they were out after curfew...."

Harry sighed. "Oh Ron," he said dismally.

"Couldn't resist," Ron murmured as his eyes closed once again, and he passed out.

Harry started to move him, to take him up to his bed, but Ron moaned lowly as he did so. Harry grimaced, and looked up at Draco, who was hovering apprehensively nearby.

"Listen," Harry said softly, and Draco's expression hardened, knowing what Harry was about to ask. "He's really hurt..."

"Potter..." the blond boy sighed.

"You're a Genupaean," Harry said. "You can heal him."

"I've told you before, I don't like using it," Draco said shortly.

"Please, Malfoy."

"I don't want anybody else knowing about me," Draco said resiliently. "I've told you this before."

"He's passed out; he won't know that you did anything," Harry said immediately.

"With all his injuries... with me to heal him entirely would completely drain me. You'd have to carry me to bed as well."

"Then just heal the major damages," Harry said. He leant down again and he gently touched Ron's bruised jaw. "Please, Malfoy," he said softly. "He looks like he's in so much pain...."

Draco exhaled loudly and looked unsure.

"Please, Malfoy."

"All right, all right," Draco finally gave in. "What have I said about resorting to begging?"

"To not do it," Harry supplied.

"Right, maybe one day you'll listen to me," Draco nodded and bent down to have a look at Ron. After studying him intently for a couple minutes, Draco gently placed his hands, palm down, on Ron's chest and took a few deep breaths.

Harry watched as a deep look of concentration formed on Draco's face as he poured life energy into Ron. Even before Harry's eyes, the bruises on his freckled face noticeably faded, and his breathing seemed less strained.

At last, Draco sat back, looking visibly worse for wear. He pushed his sweaty hair out of his grey eyes, and stood up shakily.

"Thank you," Harry said quietly.

Draco nodded, and leaned against the stone wall for support.

"We should get him up to bed now," Harry said. He raised his wand and levitated Ron to chest height. He glanced over at Draco. "Are you okay?"

Draco nodded again, "I'll be fine. Come on, let's go before anybody comes to look into the noise. We're near Snape's office, but I don't know if he's in there. I'd think he'd already have come, if he was."

Together, the two boys journeyed up to Gryffindor tower, with Ron drifting along in between them. "Phoenix tears," Harry said when they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who was nearly asleep. She murmured groggily and opened the portrait for them, and they headed inside. The common room was, thankfully, deserted.

"You'll have to change your password now," Draco said, amused.

"What? Oh," Harry belatedly realised that he had let Draco hear the password. "I'll have to tell a prefect in the morning to change it," Harry said distractedly. "Wait here, I'll be back." He levitated Ron up the narrow staircase to their room, and set him gently down on his bed, pulling the covers over him. Careful not to wake the other boys, he exited the room again.

"He's fast asleep in his bed," Harry said, reaching the common room. Draco was reclining sleepily on one of the red armchairs. He glanced up as Harry came into sight.

"Your chairs are more comfortable than ours," he commented vaguely. He wrenched himself out of his seat and headed towards the portrait opening. "Well, good night," he said.

"Malfoy," Harry put a hand on his shoulder to stop him, and said quietly, "Thank you again. For helping me."

Draco smiled tiredly. "You're welcome."

Harry studied him closely. "Do you want to stay here tonight? You could kip on a couch, or something..."

Though clearly exhausted, Draco still managed one of his smirks. "I think I can handle getting back to my own house."

"Okay, if you're certain," Harry said. "I was just making sure."

Draco nodded and turned to leave, and Harry withdrew his hand. Draco hesitated, then turned back to Harry. "Potter-" he started softly.

"Yeah?" Harry inexplicably felt his breath catch.

Draco leaned forward... and before Harry knew what was happening, Draco had pressed his lips against Harry's.

Oh... Harry's eyes fluttered closed, and he found himself responding. It was warm, soft... an infinitely gentle kiss. It was intoxicating, and Harry didn't know how much time had passed, but he felt like it could've gone on for a year.

But then a stray thought of 'You are KISSING Draco Malfoy,' floated across his mind, and his eyes opened wide as reality snapped back. Reflexively, Harry pushed Draco away and stood, stunned, unsteadily wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "What-?" he stammered. "What-"

He broke off as he saw that Draco had stumbled back a few steps... Harry must've pushed him harder than he had intended.

"Malfoy-" he started, but Draco shook his head. He gazed silently at Harry, and in his eyes Harry saw confusion and hurt.

"Malfoy, wait-" Harry said again, but before he could continue, Draco had escaped through the exit, and the portrait slammed shut behind him. Harry's shoulders sunk... this wasn't right, Harry hadn't meant to push Draco away... it just happened.

Harry exhaled his breath... if he went after him now, Draco wouldn't speak to him, he was sure of that. He slowly climbed back up the staircase to bed, hoping that he would get the chance to speak with Draco before the match tomorrow.

***

Sleep didn't come easy that night to Harry. Their kiss kept replaying in his head, over and over. And Harry still didn't know what to make of it. Did it mean that Draco was actually... interested in him? In that way? Harry rolled over and frowned into his pillow. And if he did, did Harry return the feelings?

Morning came all too soon, and he rose with the sun. He made sure Ron was still okay before heading downstairs. He bypassed the Great Hall... he didn't feel much like eating anything. He headed straight to the changing room and put on his scarlet Quidditch robes. Then he waited.

One by one, the rest of the team came in, with Ron last of all. "Ron," Harry said, as Ron took a seat next to him. "I didn't know if you would be able to play today or not. How are you?"

"I'm fine," Ron said. He touched his bruises gently, but they seemed to have diminished almost entirely. "They must not have hurt me as bad as I thought... there's no way it could've healed that fast if they had. Felt pretty awful at the time, though."

"You looked pretty bad when I found you," Harry agreed, deliberately not telling him about Draco's interference, as promised. "You really ought to have known better than to take on a pack of Slytherins all by yourself."

Ron grimaced. "They were out after hours... I couldn't resist getting them in trouble. I was young and stupid, what can I say?"

"But you're okay to fly? You're not going to fall off your broom or anything?"

"Don't worry. I know the ground hurts when you are hurtling towards it at breakneck speeds," Ron nodded knowledgably.

"Okay, team," Katie Bell's voice cut through the chatter. "It's time."

The Gryffindors rose as one, and made their way out to the Quidditch pitch, where all of the students had gathered in the stands, talking excitedly amongst themselves.

"All right there, Ginny?" Ron asked his sister, and Ginny, who was gripping her broomstick tightly, nodded confidently.

Harry, not paying attention to their chatter, was busy peering over to the other side of the pitch where the Slytherin team was gathered. "Do either of you see Malfoy?" he asked, squinting hard against the bright morning sun.

"No, I don't," Ginny said.

"Wouldn't it be funny if they forfeited the match because their Seeker didn't show up?" Ron chortled.

"No, it's not funny," Harry said sharply. He really shouldn't be worried... Draco was just late, he probably overslept or something. He had been exhausted, after all. But he couldn't shake the feeling of a growing unease.

"Look at them," Ginny said, pointing curiously at Madam Hooch and Professor McGonagall conferring intensely on the sidelines. "I wonder what the matter is?"

Katie shoved her way through to the front of the group. "Why isn't the match starting?" she demanded, staring at the teachers.

"I think something's wrong," Harry said uneasily.

Katie marched across the field to see what was holding up the match. Meanwhile, the Slytherins were looking around uncertainly, and their burly captain was checking his watch impatiently.

Suddenly, Dumbledore, in his great, flowing purple robes, glided onto the pitch, his expression strained as he walked over to where Professor McGonagall, Madam Hooch, and Katie Bell were standing. He gestured for the Slytherin captain to join them as well.

The spectators' roars of excitement turned to confusion, and Harry's speculative unease progressed to certainty.

McGonagall hurried to the centre of the pitch. "This match is cancelled," her voice, magically magnified, echoed throughout the arena. "Return to the castle, at once."

"They're cancelling the match just because Slytherin's Seeker is late?" A Beater exclaimed as the students, muttering in disappointment and bewilderment, exited the stands.

"They must be overreacting," Ron said, though his voice was hesitant.

"They're not," Harry said quietly, as Dumbledore met his eyes, the elder wizard's grim look carrying across the pitch.

Harry clutched onto his broom for support. "Malfoy wouldn't miss Quidditch, not for the world." He swallowed with great difficulty. Not even for something that may or may not have happened between us last night. No, this was something worse... something Harry had been dreading.

"Something's happened to him," Harry said, his face tight. "Malfoy's gone."