Now I Know What Love Is

Now I know What Love Is-Ch2

Draco Malfoy took his accustomed place at the Slytherin table for the Welcoming Feast, there in body but absent in spirit. After a few broken attempts at conversation, his fan club had left him alone, and he ignored or responded to the monosyllabic grunts of Crabbe and Goyle as he chose anyway. He picked at his food, wishing he could get the incident on the train with Potter off his mind. How did an honest attempt at Potter bashing turn into, to, THAT? He had barely wrenched himself away from Harry (Harry? his brain responded) before the desire to return had been almost overwhelming. And he was now uncomfortably aware of Harry's presence on the other side of the hall. He could, in fact, feel Harry's eyes riveted to him at this moment. Draco, however, stubbornly refused to look up from the chicken leg he was contemplating and return Harry's stare. Best not to get into it with Potter in the Great Hall on his first night back at Hogwarts, his brain reasoned.

Across the Hall, Harry was having a difficult time following the thread of conversation around him. Hermione was lecturing Seamus about the Irresistible potion he had illegally attempted over the summer, and Ron was trying yet again to explain the fine points of Quidditch to Colin Creevy. Harry, being of little patience, had long ago given up in that regard. He had turned the task over to Ron, reasoning that if Ron could teach him chess, he could teach Colin Quidditch.

Harry ignored his friends for the most part, preferring to watch Draco. Draco was currently waving one slim aristocratic hand at Crabbe in a "leave me alone" gesture. Harry remembered how Draco's hand felt, warm around his own, and the way the ring had looked on his hand when Draco forced it on his finger. He hadn't been able to get the encounter out of his mind. He coloured slightly, remembering the warmth and closeness of Draco's lean body. His musings were soon interrupted by the tapping of a spoon against a goblet, as Professor Dumbledore rose to make an announcement.

"I would like to introduce your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the year," said Dumbledore in measured tones."Mrs. Arabella Figg." Everyone clapped as Professor Figg appeared at the high table. The loud clapping covered the sound of Harry's gasp as he recognized the neighbor who had so often babysat him when the Dursleys went out alone. Hermione, however, noticed the look on Harry's face, as she never missed a possible theory, conspiracy or subplot. "What's wrong, Harry?" she said. "Th-that woman," he stammered. "Sh-she's the Dursleys' NEIGHBOR! What is she doing here?"

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Harry, Hermione and Ron exited the Great Hall after the Feast, talking among themselves about the appearance of Arabella Figg. "What d´you suppose she´s been doing, hanging about all these years?" said Ron. "You don´t think she´s in league with You-Know-Who, do you?"

"Don´t be silly, Ron, I expect she would have brought You-Know-Who to Harry´s doorstep if she were a Death Eater, not babysat for him," Hermione replied. "You were always safe at her house, weren´t you, Harry? She never tried to hurt you in any way?"

"No", said Harry glumly, thinking of the 20 or so cats who were always hanging about Mrs. Figg. "I just-"

Harry stopped abruptly as Draco stepped past him. Draco, unable to ignore Harry any longer, had cast a meaningful look at him as he passed by and disappeared down a dark hallway. "Bathroom," said Harry vaguely, staring after him. "I´m sure there´s one here somewhere."

With that, he turned and scurried off after Draco.

"Think we should follow him?" said Hermione anxiously.

"No," said Ron, shaking his head at Harry´s sudden departure. "If he doesn´t come along soon we´ll come back and look for him, see if he´s, er, lost or something."

Harry hurried along the gloomy passage, sure he´d never been in this part of Hogwarts before and wondering where Draco had gone. He turned a sharp corner and almost fell over Draco, who was leaning against the wall in unconscious imitation of his earlier pose on the train.

"Potter," said Draco, "why were you staring at me all during the Feast?"

"I, um..." said Harry articulately. Draco´s glance dropped to his hand.

"You´re not wearing the ring!" he said. "I, uh, I mean you had a ring on earlier, I mean I saw it on your hand, not that it matters or anything..."

"It´s in my pocket," said Harry, reaching into his robes, not able to explain why he suddenly didn´t mind if Draco saw the object of his obsession. He drew the ring out and held it up between them. The dim torchlight gleamed off the silvery metal. Draco reached for the ring, taking it and sliding it onto Harry´s finger again. Their hands met and once again eternity presented itself. Harry was surprised to find himself mere inches from Draco, one hand on the small of Draco´s back. Draco slid his other hand up Harry´s arm, stopping its journey to trace the outline of Harry´s ear and his jaw line. They were so close, so close and Harry wanted so badly to melt into Draco, feel his body, hard and lean and hot, mmmm...

"I´m sure he went down this way somewhere," came a voice from somewhere close at hand. Draco looked into Harry´s eyes, startled, and fled down a nearby passage in a swirl of black robes. Harry turned resignedly to meet his well-meaning friends.

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The young man's portrait fell out of Harry's robes as he was changing for bed. He looked at it for a moment and started to place it in his trunk for safekeeping. As he was doing so, he turned the picture over and noticed something written on the faded brown cardboard back, in an elegant scrawl. Augustin, with a date, 1850. Hmph, thought Harry, must be his name. How come I never noticed it before? He shrugged, burying the ring and daguerreotype in his trunk, and climbed into bed. "Night Harry," said Ron. "Night Ron," Harry replied. He lay awake for hours and finally fell asleep, a jumbled kaleidoscope of thoughts about the day´s events following him down into his dreams.

When Harry opened his eyes he was no longer in bed. He was walking down an avenue of live oaks, beside a slow moving, night black river. It was peaceful, with a slight breeze blowing and a full moon overhead. "Bonjour, Harry," said a softly accented voice beside him. Harry looked around in surprise to find the young man from his picture walking beside him. "I am Augustin."

"How did you get here?" said Harry. "Never mind that, how did I get here?"

"You're dreaming, Harry," replied Augustin. "Much has changed between your time and mine, but that much remains the same. Dreams, if you control them properly, always give you what you want. And you wanted to talk to me. So here I am."

Harry didn't reply for a minute, so surprised was he by this turn of events. He had had prophetic dreams and true dreams and frightening dreams and the kind of dreams you can't comfortably think about during, say, Charms, but he had never had a dream that happened because you wanted it to.

Harry, lost in his own reverie, blurted out the first thought that came into his head.

"How did your picture get into the Dursleys' attic?", he said. "Oh never mind, that's stupid, how would you know where your picture´s been for years..."

"Oh, but I do know," Augustin replied. "It was placed there by the witch who owned it, and the house, before she left."

"A witch lived in the Dursley´s house?" said Harry. "That's quite surprising, considering they hate all things magical."

"No coincidence," said Augustin pleasantly. "Albus Dumbledore made sure they bought that house, just a few weeks before you were born. He was trying to protect the only living family of your mother. Considering Lord Voldemort's hatred for your father, combined with his hatred of Muggles, it´s not a stretch to imagine that they would be in a great deal of danger. They needed the protection of a house guarded by magical enchantments. And you even more so."

"So that's why Professor Dumbledore has had me spend every summer with those awful people?" Harry said. "Just so I´d be SAFE? I´d have risked a thousand run-ins with Lord Voldemort just to spend my time with somebody who LIKES me, who wanted me around..." Harry was livid. Why couldn´t they have magically protected some other house and sent him to live THERE?

"Not just to make you safe, Harry," replied Augustin softly. "To make you strong. You have known adversity all of your short life, but you have never known true defeat, not in your own heart. You passed every test that has ever been set for you. You could not have grown up with that kind of courage in the wizarding world. You would have been somebody´s pampered child, spoilt from the beginning by attention and adulation. No better than your cousin, Dudley."

Harry grimaced, knowing it was true but unwilling to admit it. Deep inside, for the first time, he was feeling the tiniest bit proud of himself.

"I have to leave you now, Harry," said Augustin, turning away. I have other tasks for the night, and you have to get some restful sleep. You have other challenges facing you tomorrow", he said, winking. Huh? thought Harry. Other challenges? Wait! I didn´t ask him about the ring!

"Wait!" said Harry aloud. "I need to ask you..."

But Augustin was gone, and Harry was falling down the black spiral of dreamless sleep.