Moving Company

10. Revelations and Acceptance

Christmas morning was a slightly subdued affair in Slytherin house, mostly due to the manners that had been drilled into many: it simply wasn't right for a pureblooded wizard to jump around like a muggle at the thought of getting gifts. Of course so many of them were so spoiled that Christmas was just a day of extra presents, so there wasn't that much cause for excitement to begin with.

Harry found himself with a surprisingly large pile of presents—he was so used to only getting at most trinkets from the other Gryffindors that it never even occurred to him to get things for the rest of the fifth years, let alone for people in other years. Even the first years had all chipped in to buy him a gift. He felt quite embarrassed and apologized to everyone, who reassured him that it was quite all right and assured him that this was payment for aide to them, including ensuring that the Quidditch team had a tight grip on first place.

Harry nodded, but before opening any of his gifts, he slipped the packages containing the socks for his dorm mates next to him: he didn't feel like they'd really be appreciated. He'd give Blaise's to Ginny, and maybe he'd give Draco's to him later when they started to study again. He passed Draco the package containing the book.

Draco neatly unwrapped the paper, his eyes glittering in delight as he fingered the spine. "How'd you get this, Harry? I can't imagine you have the contacts to get this."

Harry smiled slightly. "Does it really matter, Draco? Just promise you won't use me as your test subject."

Draco nodded, then grinned wickedly. "I overheard Snape talking to Flitwick. It seems like we might have a dueling night soon to test our skills…"

Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. "And then what will you do once you get expelled?"

"Psh. Details. Details."

Harry knew that Draco wouldn't actually use the curses in class. None of them were that stupid, despite the outward appearances of some of them.

"Your turn, Harry."

Harry worked his way through the pile of presents: more books on the Dark Arts (un-subtle hints perhaps, although none of them were immediately useful for what he was studying), some sweets, and some new pants to wear under his robes.

Draco handed him an elegantly wrapped book. "You should appreciate it. Had to pull a lot of strings to get it done in time."

Harry opened, and saw Quidditch Through the Ages glowing at him. He frowned; he already owned a copy.

"Open it, already, would you?"

Harry complied and gasped as he flipped through the pages. Autographs. Tons and tons of them, from players all over Europe, both past and present. Harry's mouth dropped open. He'd seen it at the broom shop; but it was like the Firebolt: if you had to ask how much it cost, you couldn't afford it. A decidedly expensive book that Harry had drooled over, yet never dared to actually purchase for himself.

"This is fantastic!"

"Knew you'd enjoy it. And look in the cover."

Harry flipped to it, and saw that the Chudley Cannons had autographed personally, dedicating it to Harry, congratulating him on his own Quidditch successes.

"Wow. Thank you, Draco." Harry looked it over in awe; it was obvious that this was his favorite gift.

"You're welcome." Draco replied, tipping his head slightly, smiling.

* * *
Despite the fact that they were still on vacation, Harry and Draco still met in the Potions dungeon that Sunday. The atmosphere was as cheery as it had been in weeks, even though they were starting to review for the OWLs.

Harry stirred the cauldron, carefully watching the size of the bubbles that danced along the surface.

"You know, I never meant to get you kicked off the team."

Draco nodded. "It was Snape's decision."

"I miss playing you on the field. You were the best competition I had, really."

"Why thank you. I am rather good."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, I was trying to ask you if you wanted to play some one on one Quidditch."

Draco's eyes widened and he grinned slyly as he realized what was going on. "Is the great Harry Potter asking me out?"

Harry smirked slightly. "I could be."

"Well, I suppose I have to say yes. Can't let you go around dating just anyone in the school. We Slytherins have high standards you know."

Harry shook his head. "I must be nuts, you know, to want to date you."

"Well, I think you're insane anyway, although wanting to date me proves you haven't completely lost it."

Harry snorted. "Thank you so much. It's heartening to know my sanity is measured by wanting to date guys all too willing to get me more involved in the Dark Arts."

"Can I help it that I approve of your reading materials?"

Harry grinned but refrained from commenting.

"I'll find out why you're reading them one day."

Harry nodded. "Sure you will. When I tell you."

Draco snorted. "I could always ask Snape."

"You could, but you won't."

"And why won't I?"

"Because you haven't already and besides, Snape won't tell you what we're doing."

Draco frowned as their potion turned a brackish green, when it was supposed to be a clear blue, and turned down the flames. "He would if I asked."

"He wouldn't. The only other one who knows is Dumbledore, and he certainly won't tell you."

Draco tried to not pout, but Harry could still see hints of puppy dog eyes peeking through, and he laughed.

"I'll take your mind off it. I think this potion is ruined. Why don't you and I go play some Quidditch. I meant it when I said you were my best competition."

"What are we playing for?"

"We have to play for something?"

Draco nodded, and began to clean up the dungeon. "Makes things more interesting."

Harry tilted his head, a little curious, a little nervous. "What are you offering?"

"If I win, I get a kiss."

"And if I win?"

"I'll grade the next batch of essays you assign the first years."

Harry held out his hand. "You're on."

* * *
The Quidditch pitch was deserted when they got to the field. Not surprising considering the chill in the air, and the threat of snow, although that didn't deter the two Slytherins.

Harry clutched the Snitch in his hand, and at Draco's signal, released it into the air, the small golden ball somehow easier to see on this slightly cloudy day. Waiting until it had disappeared from sight, the two boys flew up into the air, ready to begin their match.

Unlike the matches for the Quidditch cup, this match was slower, friendlier. They glided around the field, each diligently keeping an eye out for the Snitch, even as they tried to look their most casual.

"You know I'm going to catch it, Harry!" Draco yelled out after several minutes of the two flying laps around each other.

"In your dreams, Draco!" Harry yelled back cheerfully.

Harry moved closer to the center of the field, when the familiar flash of gold zoomed by. Harry took off after it, and Draco did as well, only his position made him that much closer to the target. Harry's Firebolt was not known as the broom of choice for nothing though, and quickly caught up until the two were almost neck and neck, both within reaching distance of their prize. Harry made a push for the snitch at the last second, just as Draco's hand was closing around it.

"Yes!" Draco cried out, bringing his broom back down to the field, Harry landing by his side.

"I believe you owe me forfeit, Harry."

Harry swallowed slightly. "I do indeed, Draco." Harry took a step closer, closing the distance between the two young wizards before leaning forward and planting a nervous kiss on Draco's lips, willing himself to relax.

Draco prolonged the kiss, slightly slipping his tongue between Harry's lips before breaking it off. Harry blushed slightly, knowing that he could have done better then that, and for a few moments tried to look anywhere but at the honestly smiling Draco. After another minute, Draco wrapped his arm around Harry, pulling him closer, while his other hand brushed the wind-swept bangs out of his face.

"I get to pick the next date." Draco commented as they replaced their brooms in the shed.

"Just promise me that if it's food, it's edible."

Draco sighed dramatically. "Oh Harry. You still have so much to learn about living like the rich…"

Harry rolled his, laughed, and the two young men headed back into the warm halls of Hogwarts.

* * *
Classes were soon back in session, and days later came the fifth year Defense match up that Draco had mentioned on Christmas morning . Slytherins and Gryffindors were seated on the right side of the room, the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs at the left. In the middle of the room, in front of the giant chalkboard sat three chairs. The middle one was raised higher then the other two, and in it held Professor Dumbledore. Flitwick sat to the right of him, the stack of pillows to make him level with the Headmaster and Snape so high, Harry wondered how he didn't fall off.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

"Good evening, Professor Dumbledore." replied the group.

"I know that Defense this year has been a rather unusual experience for you, all what with no real teacher and a more practical syllabus then ever before, even if both teachers are focusing on slightly different areas. We are here tonight to see how we are all progressing, and to test your reflexes by the means of dueling. I should hope things go more smoothly then the last time we attempted this."

Harry winced slightly. The night in the dueling club when knowledge about his status as a Parselmouth became known by all still ranked right up there with detentions with Filch and battles with Voldemort as his least favorite school memories.

"The way this works will be simple: one student from Professor Snape's class will face off with a student from Professor Flitwick's class. The two will meet in the duel. The person who disarms their opponent first scores a point from their side, and ten points for their house. When it is all done, the house with highest over all score will receive an extra fifty points for their house!"

A smattering of applause filled the room as Dumbledore drew a list from the side of his chair. He called up Seamus from Gryffindor, and a girl from Ravenclaw named Sarah Harrison to start the first bout.

The duel was painful to watch. Despite his early confidence, Seamus fumbled with his Recurvo spell. His initial attempt to get it up in time, failed, and he got hit head on with the tickling charm. He squirmed and laughed and tried to cast Expelliarmus to no avail. Meanwhile, Sarah had no such difficulties and seconds later his wand was in her hand, and the right side of the room burst into applause and cheers, while Harry's roommates hissed and jeered Seamus' efforts.

"Way to go Seamus," Draco sneered.

"Nice choke." added Blaise.

Crabbe just glared without comment. Harry muttered something silently, and the room was restored to calm as Dumbledore named the next two participants. Harry watched as the duels progressed. Despite the differences in teaching styles, the two groups were actually comparatively equal: while Snape's students knew about the Reflecting spell (and Harry the Impenetrable spell), many of them, like Seamus, were having trouble getting it cast in time, allowing them to get hit and disarmed. Conversely, the rest of his class (mainly the Slytherins) realized that not casting it successfully would only be a waste of time so most of them didn't even bother. Without that waste of time, Snape's students made quick work of Flitwick's; the curses they knew were stronger then the still- simplistic defense spells that Flitwick had taught his group.

About forty-five minutes in, there were only four students left: Harry, Ron, Lavender and a Ravenclaw that Harry didn't really know.

"Mr. Potter of Slytherin, and Mr. Weasley of Hufflepuff."

Harry and Ron stood facing each other, the normal level of pre-duel chatter filled the air.

"I've been practicing, you know, with Hermione." Ron commented.

Harry nodded. "I'm sure it will show. Good luck, Ron."

Confidently, Ron replied, "You too, Harry. You'll need it."

Harry smiled slightly, bowed his head, and raised his wand, Ron doing the same.

"And begin!" Dumbledore cried out.

Harry muttered silently and Recurvo was up a scant few seconds later, just as Ron began to cast the jelly legs curse. Hitting Harry's shields, it made Ron dodge out of the way to avoid getting hit by his own hex, throwing Ron's momentum off, which Harry used to quickly disarm him. The whole match was over in less then a minute, and garnered applause from everyone in the room, including the three professors.

"Excellent work gentlemen." Everyone knew that by "gentlemen" Dumbledore meant Harry; he was the only one who'd successfully used the reflecting spell that night. Although a few of the other Gryffindors had gotten close, their reflexes a little too slow. Even so, he smiled, thanked Dumbledore and Harry. Harry shook Ron's hand and returned to his seat, getting congratulations from all around him, including some of the female Gryffindors who were now in a state of quasi-lust caused by Harry's fine dueling skilled, tempered first by Harry's relationship with Blaise, and now with rumors of Harry's relationship with Draco.

The final match of the night was anticlamtic after Harry's show of skill; Lavender, who was never good in Defense, got soundly trounced by the Ravenclaw, her loss was enough to result in Ravenclaw winning the fifty point bonus.

Dumbledore pronounced the night a success, and dismissed them all.

* * *
A month into term, Hermione needed help. Flitwick had assigned them all papers for Defense, and Harry happened to have the books she needed. Those who had seen him last said that he'd been heading out towards Hagrid's hut.

She heard Harry's voice ordering a series of commands, but wasn't sure who he was talking to, until she saw the big, familiar looking dog. She frowned, "Snuffles? Is that you? Why are you still a dog, there's no one else out here?"

Harry jumped, spinning around to face Hermione. "Don't do that, Hermione. It could be dangerous." He turned and faced the dog. "You'd better change back." There was a strange emphasis on the last two words.

Within moments, the dog was replaced with one very naked, very still Sirius Black, who didn't even so much as blink.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?" asked Hermione.

Sirius didn't move.

"Um. Harry…is there something wrong with Snuffles?"

Harry sighed. "Finite Incantatum."

Harry's godfather shook his head, as if waking up, then immediately grabbed for his robes to cover himself.

Hermione gasped. "Does this mean…"

Harry nodded slightly.

"But you could end up in Azkaban for this…"

"Not if the Ministry doesn't find out. Professor Snape and Dumbledore know what I'm doing, and have given me permission to do this. Not to mention Snuffles consented," Harry commented, a bit defensively.

"He's not going anywhere, Hermione." Snuffles patted her on the shoulder, trying to calm her down.

"But…but why? Why does Harry know how to do Imperius? Why are you even here Snuffles? I thought Harry said that you hadn't replied to his last letter!" She bit her lip, not knowing what to do with herself.

"Calm down Hermione, and I'll explain everything."

"Promise? The whole truth this time?"

Harry nodded. "I promise."

She sighed a little, some of the tension leaving her body. "All right."

"Hagrid said I could use his hut if needed to, why don't we go inside?" Harry suggested.

Black nodded emphatically. "Agreed."

The three walked around the side of the cottage, and went in. The first thing Sirius did was to go and make himself presentable, before starting the tea. A few minutes later, Harry and Hermione were sipping tea quietly, and Sirius slouched into an armchair.

"So. Which explanation do you want first?" Harry finally asked.

"Why not the easy one. What is your godfather doing here?"

Sirius smiled. "I can't go into details, but I've been working on things for Dumbledore, which is why I haven't had the time to write back. When I had to come here and report, I decided to spend some time with Harry…it's been a while and I thought it might be good for the both of us to spend some time together."

She nodded. It was still risky, but there were enough paths leading outside that it wouldn't have been too hard for him to get outside without being caught.

"All right, then. Harry. Why are you studying the Dark Arts?"

He hesitated, trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say. "You know that in exchange for teaching Defense to first years, my main compensation is learning advanced Defense with Professor Snape…well, I'm studying the Dark Arts because the spells there are powerful. Voldemort and his followers are all strong Dark Wizards. They don't mess around with tickling charms and jelly legs. I have to be able to defend myself against those attacks—and if possible, prevent them in the first place by incapacitating them."

She nodded, slowly. "That makes sense, I suppose. But that still doesn't explain why you had Sirius under the Imperius. Why would you need to know that? Are you learning the other two too?"

He looked at Sirius for a second, who nodded. "I'm learning them because one day they may save my life. Voldemort is so hard to kill…that one day Avada Kevadara might be my only option. I don't want it to have to be that way. But if it is, I rather risk going to Azkaban then letting Voldemort continue to live. And yes. I'm learning the others. Cruciatus is next, then finally the killing curse."

"I see." She was frowning.

"I'm not asking you to like the fact that I'm learning the Dark Arts, or that I was using Sirius to practice, Hermione. I just want you to accept it."

She nodded. "I trust you, Harry. Just be careful."

"I'll try, promise."

Hermione rose. "Good. I'll leave you to talk with your godfather."

Harry nodded. "Wait, before you go, were you looking for me for any particular reason?"

"Oh! Yes! You have some books I need for a Defense essay."

"Give me a list at dinner and I'll see which ones I can part with."

She nodded. "All right then. Have a good day, and for god sakes Harry, be careful!"

"I will."

She left the hut, and Harry sighed in relief. "That was too close."

Sirius nodded. "It was…So. What's this I heard about you and Draco Malfoy?"

"Um. We're dating?" Harry offered.

Sirius nodded. "I don't need to warn you about his family."

"You don't." Harry agreed.

It was Sirius' turn to start sighing. "Just be careful Harry. You know there's a big chance that he'll follow in his fathers footsteps."

"Yeah. I know." His voice was subdued.

"It's just something for you to remember. Think long and hard before you fall too hard."

"I will…" Harry paused. "So…does this mean that you're all right with me dating guys?"

Sirius smiled sadly, his expression telling Harry that he was thinking of a past lover. "It's not my place to comment on your love life, Harry. Merlin knows if anyone has earned the right to have a partner it's you. I want you to be happy, and if dating Draco does it for you…then I'll bite my tongue."

Harry nodded slightly. It was as much as he could hope for. "Thank you."

Sirius looked outside, seeing beginning of dusk. "I've got to be going."

Harry stood, and gave his godfather a hug. "Be careful. And thank you."

"For what?"

"For not lecturing me. For helping me today."

"You're welcome."

Harry nodded.

"I'll try to get in touch sooner next time." He gave Harry another hug and shifted back into Snuffles. Snuffles barked and Harry let him out the door watching him leave before returning to the castle proper.

* * *
A week after Sirius' visit, "official" news of Harry and Draco's relationship spread throughout Hogwarts, confirming the tamer rumors about the pair. No one freaked out, although a few wistfully sighed that Harry was again taken. The wishful thinking was popped the very next day, when an ominous red envelope landed in Draco's lap.

Draco shook, the Slytherins around him winced and looked at Draco and Harry with sympathy. There was no mistaking what this Howler was going to be about. He picked up the envelope and gently opened it.

Much to Harry's surprise, this one didn't shriek like Ron's and Neville's had. Instead, a chilly voice began to speak.

Draco,

I have waited patiently to see if your dalliance with the Potter child would come to a quiet end. But as that has not yet happened, I have no choice but to write you this Howler.

You are the Heir to the Malfoy name and lands, and are expected to behave in a manner according to your position. You have duties to me as my son, of which I know you are fully aware, and you must know how your…boyfriend…contradicts these obligations.

Choose wisely, Draco. We will discuss this further the next time we meet.

Regards,

Lucius Malfoy

Harry shivered slightly and watched as the envelope burst into bright silver and green flames.

Unable to take his eyes off the pile of ash, Harry said to Draco, "We need to talk."

Draco nodded. "Tonight, the Potions dungeon."

Harry nodded, feeling a lump of dread already beginning to grow in his stomach. It was going to be a long day.

* * *
Harry shifted uncomfortably on a stool looking at Draco, who also seemed less confident than usual.

"So."

"So. What are you going to do, Draco?"

"What can I do, Harry? He still expects me to become a Death Eater and serve You-Know-Who."

"You don't have though."

"I don't. He could make me, but he won't."

"What makes you so sure of that?"

"The Dark Lord doesn't want followers who aren't 100% loyal, 100% committed to him. He'll only accept you if you are truly willing. He can sense it if you're being forced."

"Well, that's good to know, I suppose. Still, just because he won't doesn't mean you won't. Do you want to become a Death Eater? Do I have to worry that one day you'll be the one who hands me over to Voldemort as some kind of sick prize?"

Draco's face was coldly indifferent, a mask that Harry wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to decipher what it was hiding. "I'm not sure. I do hate the way we wizards have to hide from the Muggles. I think that Mudbloods sully wizard blood and dilute our power, and I know the Dark Lord can change that. Put them in their rightful places. But I don't know if I want to spend my life bowing to a person who disposes of you the second you're no longer useful, or casts Cruciatus because you made a minor mistake. For all my father's boasting about how great You-Know-Who is, I know that he's scared of him. My father bends over backwards trying to please him just so he'll stay in his good graces, and let the abuse go elsewhere, or maybe get a little more power. I wouldn't blame him for that. Power is good, we should all try and get more." He looked at Harry evenly. "You have a lot you know, you just need to learn to use it."

Harry didn't say anything because he didn't know what to say. What could he really expect to hear from Draco? Harry knew his father had been pushing him on this path since Draco could remember. His prejudices against Muggles and Mudbloods were deep-seated and probably would never fully go away. Harry wanted to hear something more concrete then just that maybe he wouldn't become a Death Eater. Yet he wouldn't believe Draco if Draco flat out said he wouldn't become one either. He was shaken from his musings when Draco kissed him, as if out of desperate reassurance.

"Look. I like you, and I'm not planning on letting you go anytime soon. Whether or not I become a Death Eater is a decision I will make for myself—as is the person I will date. I will deal with my father. I have for years now; this is just one more battle that I'll have with him. Now come on. We'll miss Defense if we don't hurry."

Harry nodded, and followed Draco up towards the Defense classroom. Though Draco tried to settle the issue here and now, Harry knew that it'd only be a matter of time before it came up again. But for now, he wasn't going to worry. He liked Draco, Draco liked him, and they understood each other and where they stood. It was the best he could hope for.

As he listend to Professor Snape lecture on a curse he learned months ago, he looks at Draco and smiles. Perhaps getting re-Sorted wasn't such a bad thing after all.