Now I Know What Love Is

Now I Know What Love Is

Harry sighed uncomfortably and glanced sideways at his companions. He squirmed in the leather seat, trying to relax and enjoy the ride, oblivious to the concerned looks that punctuated the conversation of his mates. He, Hermione and Ron were on the Hogwarts Express, speeding through the northern English countryside. Everyone had noticed how distracted he was, but no one had commented, figuring it to be the result of last years events, the death of Cedric Diggory and the rumoured reemergence of Lord Voldemort. The real reason Harry was distracted was the small objects secreted in his pocket, and he wanted another look at them.

He got up abruptly and slid open the door to the compartment, stepping out into the hallway. Ron and Hermione looked at him inquiringly. Harry mumbled, "Want a drink.... going up front." His friends nodded and returned to their discussion of the possibilities for their new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher. Harry slid the compartment door closed behind him and walked to the end of the corridor. Feeling less conspicuous there, he slid his hand into his pocket and drew out the objects he had been obsessing over. He clenched the first tightly in his hand and then opened his fingers, staring at it. It was a ring, platinum in colour and imbedded with a Greek key design all the way around. The other was a portrait, a daguerreotype, although Harry didn't know that. The sepia toned picture showed a young man, haughty and imposing looking. He had one arm propped regally on the back of a carved chair and was staring into the camera as though he had just been insulted by the photographer. He was absolutely beautiful.

Harry had found the objects in the attic of the Dursley's home, while being forced to clean it one hot summer day. He had no idea where they'd come from. None of the Dursleys were collectors of antiques, being of the opinion that newer was better, and more likely to cause envy among the neighbors. Besides, the picture and ring were inside a small leather box, stamped with a crest unfamiliar to Harry, and hidden among the rafters, making them almost impossible to see. He had opened the box and stood staring at the contents until Dudley's frustrated shout from below echoed around the roof. He then slid the objects hurriedly into his pocket, wanting to make sure they were not seen and taken away from him. The Dursleys may not have been antique collectors but they would have had the ring to the jewelers before you could say Muggle, and to Harry's untrained eye it looked expensive. Of course he couldn't wear the ring at home, and now that he was among friends and could do what he wanted, he had no desire to display it, preferring to keep it to himself.

He clutched the ring tightly in his fist and stared at the picture until an amused and rather weary voice from behind him made him jump.

"My God, Potter, what are you doing?" said Draco Malfoy. Harry turned quickly to the sight of Draco leaning against the wall, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded. "You're insane," Draco continued. "What are you hiding behind your back? Copy of Playwizard? Come on Potter, let me see. This should be good for a laugh."

Draco stepped forward, trapping Harry against the wall effectively with the proximity of his body. He looked at Harry through lowered eyelashes and smiled in a self-satisfied way. He leaned forward even closer, placing one arm on the wall above Harry's shoulder and wrapping the other around his waist. Draco's hand snaked around behind Harry, and reached for his right hand, the one with the ring in it. The realization of what was happening hit Harry at that moment. He shoved his hand forward, intending to push Draco away. Instead his hand made contact with Draco's reaching fingers. Draco's palm slid over the top of Harry's hand, forcing the ring onto Harry's middle finger.

Time appeared to stop. Voices up and down the hallway, which had been so clear to Harry in the preceding moments, seemed to fade and become muted. The two boys stared into each other's eyes. Draco glanced down at their hands, still intertwined, and returned his gaze to Harry as though he couldn't take his eyes off him, taking in every feature as though he had never seen them before. Harry found himself unable to breathe. Well, breathing was overrated, anyway.

"What have you done, Malfoy?" he said, not accusing, only wondering. Draco sighed softly and began, "I-I think...".

At that moment, a loud bang issued from one of the compartments and the two boys returned to reality and jumped apart. Draco brushed by Harry, giving him one last bewildered look, and continued on down the corridor, entering a compartment where Harry heard the voices of his Slytherin friends greeting him, the low grumbles that were Crabbe and Goyle and the higher pitched sugary squeals of Draco's ever-present female admirers.

Harry returned the items to his pocket and returned to his own compartment, greeted by the concerned faces of his two best friends. His hand still burned from Draco's touch, and his breathing was ragged. He barely had time to sit before the compartment door burst open again and Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas tumbled in, shouting excitedly about a spell gone awry, Neville Longbottom's current mishap. Harry closed his eyes and wished he was alone in his bed in Gryffindor tower, with the bed curtains closed, his pajamas on and his ring in hand once again.

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