Now I Know What Love Is

I need some distraction, oh beautiful release,
memory seeps from my veins,
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe,
I'll find some peace tonight-Angel, Sarah Maclachlan

Now I Know What Love Is, Chapter 5-Kiss and Secret

Deep in the craggy mountains of Bavaria, there sat a lonely house, overlooking a deep, glassy lake. Turrets and towers crowned the imposing black stone edifice. The house looked as though it had been deserted for centuries, but there was a fire burning in a distant parlour. A tall, hooded, cloaked figure paced evenly up and down the cold, stone flagged floor.

The figure stopped in his pacing to stroke the head of a huge snake, curled far from the heat of the fire in a chair in the corner. The snake's tongue flickered once, and the hooded figure's burning red eyes watched the snake in pleasure. The apparition spoke.

"I fear, Wormtail, that one of our number is no longer entirely loyal to us. How...sad."

"H-How do you know, my Lord?" said the quavering voice of one long used to subservience.

"Ah, Wormtail, you, who have known me so long, need to ask that question?" The other voice made no reply, and Lord Voldemort continued, "I think we have been here long enough. This... damp hovel you inherited has been a satisfactory place to recover and plan after the Potter fiasco last year" ...here the red slitted eyes narrowed in anger... "but I think it is time to move on. Besides, Nagini grows...restless." The snake hissed in agreement, and the cowed figure crouching in the corner quivered.

"WORMTAIL!"

"Y-Yes, my Lord?"

"Go out and fetch a mouse for Nagini, and be quick about it."

Wormtail scuttled out of the room. Voldemort stopped in front of the fireplace, staring into the flames. Their reflection danced evilly in his eyes.

"Yes, very soon," he said, in his low sinuous voice.

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The exterior of Hogwarts was beautiful at night, Draco thought. Moonlight and shadow merged to create a mysterious and imposing sight, and the torches that burned throughout the night added to the mystique. But where on Earth was Potter taking him? There was nothing in this direction but the lake, and it wasn't exactly private. To his surprise, Harry came to a stop in front of the Whomping Willow. "Potter," Draco began.

"Here we are," said Harry brightly, interrupting him. Draco watched in amazement as Harry picked up a long fallen branch and poked at the trunk. The tree immediately froze in place, and Harry held out his hand to Draco, smiling. "Come on, Malfoy, don't be such a chicken," Harry said.

Draco found himself in a long dark tunnel. It was only big enough for one person to pass through at a time, and Harry, in front, was leading him along by the hand.

"Why are we stumbling along in the dark?" said Draco.

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, pulling out his wand and muttering, "Lumos". It wasn't much better with a light, thought Draco. He looked distastefully at the bare earth wall and the dirty cobbled floor. At last they came to a set of stone steps, leading up to a door. Draco had held his peace long enough.

"Are you ever going to tell me where we are?" he asked. "Or does it amuse you to demonstrate your vast knowledge of cupboards and dank holes around Hogwarts?"

"We're in the Shrieking Shack," said Harry calmly, choosing to ignore Draco's rudeness. "You know, in the village? I thought...".

He was cut short by Draco's attempt to turn and run for it. Draco was somewhat impeded by his refusal to let go of Harry's hand, but he was still making a valiant attempt to escape. "MALFOY," Harry said, exasperated. "DRACO! It's ALL RIGHT!".

Draco gave up on his attempt to run, since he couldn't manage to drag Harry out of the tunnel and he wasn't about to let go of him. "If this is a trick, Potter, you are dragon shit. I'm NOT going in there, everyone knows its haunted."

"Its not haunted," Harry replied. "You have to trust me. There's nothing in there that will hurt you."

With that, he pulled open the door and stepped inside, releasing Draco's hand. Draco followed, albeit reluctantly. They were in a long hallway. Dust rose from the boards, and moonlight could be seen in the rooms streaming in through the cracks in the boarded up windows. Harry entered a deserted room on his right, walking to the middle of the room and stopping short. He had dropped into deep thought and almost forgot Draco's unusually silent presence.

He realized he was about to tell Draco something that he hadn't even shared with one of his closest friends. He and Ron had made the decision together that it was a bad idea to tell Hermione about the ring and picture just yet. Neither of them had forgotten the Firebolt incident. They realized Hermione only did these things because she cared about Harry and didn't want him to come to any harm, but really, where was the fun in that? Harry completely intended to tell Hermione about the ring but not just yet.

He walked into the room a little bit farther. Back to Draco, he was attempting to peer out one of the many openings left by the spaces between the boards in the windows. Draco was still nervous about being in the place altogether, and was slowly inching closer to Harry. He was afraid this was some kind of trick and Harry was going to leave him alone with only some horrendous vengeful spirit for company. He jumped when Harry began to speak.

"I suppose you wanted to talk to me about that ring," Harry said. He began to tell Draco the story of the ring, including Augustin and the photo. His words came haltingly at first, then began to spill out in a rush. He hesitated when relating the story of the dream, but he took the plunge and told Draco every word of it. It was now an extremely personal experience to him and it had been hard for him to even tell Ron. Finally he got to the experiment he and Ron had made with ring the night before last.

Draco listened in silence, amazed. Harry really trusted him. Draco had never given Harry reason to have faith in him, but here they were, together, and Harry was telling him this unbelievable story. Even stranger, Draco believed every word of it.

"I can't even describe to you what happened when I put that ring on", Harry said. "It was like a combination of a Pensieve and a Perceptivity potion. All the unrelated thoughts in my mind just meshed together, like, I don't know, I could THINK so clearly."

Draco was now standing behind Harry, staring at the curve of his neck.

Harry continued, "Have you ever had one of those moments where the universe just opened up for you and you could suddenly understand something? It was only a stupid Transfiguration formula but it was like being conked over the head by the truth, the concept just entered my mind whole and everything McGonagall had said made sense. Like I always knew it but I only realized it when I put the ring on."

Draco, unable to stop himself, reached forward and ran his fingers gently over the nape of Harry's neck, coming to rest on Harry's shoulder.

"And what happened, Potter, when I put that ring on your finger?" said Draco. "Can you describe that?" he breathed into Harry's ear.

Harry dropped his head for a moment, unwilling to answer. Then, as though he could no longer do battle against the truth, he turned and faced Draco and looked him in the eye.

"I realized something else that I have always known," he said.

Draco reached for Harry, but he needn't have bothered. Harry was already there. His mouth met Draco's with an intensity that made Draco's knees weak. He might have fallen had Harry not wrapped his arms around him. His skin burned everywhere Harry's body touched his. They kissed almost in utter silence, small kisses that broke and reformed like ocean waves.

Draco buried one hand in Harry's soft messy hair and used the other to caress Harry's neck, collarbone to shoulder to pulse point. Harry moaned into Draco's mouth, wanted to arch and purr like a cat at the pleasure of the touch he so desperately needed. He broke their kiss and paused for breath before turning his attention to Draco's neck. He licked a slow path almost to Draco's earlobe and then followed it back with a trail of softly blown breath. His arms tightened around Draco and pulled him closer. Draco, enjoying Harry's attention, turned them both around and leaned back against the wall, tipping back his chin and offering his throat to Harry's lips.

Harry's hands unlocked themselves behind Draco's back, traveling up the length of their bodies and grasping Draco's own hands. No, uh-uh, thought Draco, I hope you're not planning to push yourself away from me because you're not going anywhere. But Harry only held Draco's hands, palm to palm, and slipped his fingers in between Draco's. He pushed Draco back against the wall, a little roughly, trapping him in place, holding his hands on either side of Draco's head. You want this, thought Draco, you want it, and you want it as much as I do.

Oh, he wants this, thought Harry, listening to Draco's soft sighs and moans. Harry himself was absolutely lost in Draco, and he knew the most exquisite pain of his life when Draco dropped his head, finally, and bit him, softly at first and then harder. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, Draco's bites changed to the tiniest gentlest kisses imaginable. Harry couldn't help himself. He said Draco's name, softly at first, trying it out. Draco's kisses at his throat changed to gentle sucking, and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco again and growled, "Draco, God..." He felt Draco tense against him.

"Again, say it again" said Draco urgently, "please, Harry, I want it, I need it..." Harry complied feverishly, whispering Draco's name over and over. He would have begged Draco not to stop, told him how much he needed him, wanted him, had he been able, but he couldn't speak. He was reduced to pleading whimpers.

Draco finally stopped kissing him and just stood there, holding Harry in his arms, cheek against Harry's jaw.

"I didn't know," said Harry. "Oh, Draco, all this time and I didn't know..."

"Shh," said Draco. "It doesn't matter now. What matters is this. What matters is us."

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"I hope you're comfortable," said Harry. "Selfish little sod." Draco smiled contentedly with his eyes closed. "Oh, I am," he replied. Harry was sitting on the floor, back against one wall of the Shrieking Shack. Draco was lying comfortably against Harry, back to him, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. Draco stretched his arms behind him, bringing them to rest on Harry's shoulders, hands behind Harry's neck. Harry responded by rubbing his own hands along Draco's torso, up and over his chest. He planted a small kiss on Draco's temple.

"Got a question for you," said Draco. "Well, several questions, actually. How'd you get Ariadne to bring me your note? She dislikes most people, people who aren't Malfoys, that is."

Harry privately wondered if he was supposed to be flattered by that piece of information, but wisely decided to keep his thoughts to himself. "A post owl who doesn't like people, Draco? Anyway, I didn't have to get her to bring it to you. She offered."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she came over to me while I was in the Owlery, made a friendly gesture and then stuck out her leg like she was offering to bring you the note. I didn't have to get her to do anything."

Draco let that piece of information digest quietly for a moment. He mentally shook his head.

"Next question. How did you know where the entrance to the Slytherin dungeons is?"

Harry smiled weakly. He was glad Draco couldn't really see his face. "Er, Fred and George Weasley told me about it in third year. They'd been down that way looking for, um, hidden tunnels or something."

Draco turned his head a little and regarded what he could see of Harry's face. Even in the semi darkness he could see a rosy blush on Harry's cheek.

He's lying to me, thought Draco. Why? He decided to let it go for the time being.

"Last question. Where did you get that admirable cloak? I thought invisibility cloaks were damned expensive and hard to come by."

"It was my father's," said Harry shortly.

Draco sat up a little and turned toward Harry. Harry was looking away from him, and the coldness on his face hurt Draco unbearably. He reached out to place his hand gently on Harry's cheek. He attempted to turn Harry's head toward him but Harry wouldn't budge. Draco then did something he had never before done in his life. He apologized.

"Harry, I know it's too late for this, but I'm sorry about your parents, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what it must have been like for you, losing your parents when you were small, having to grow up with Muggles like the Dursley's. You never had any affection, anybody to love you, but if you'll let me, I'll..." He stopped short, staring into Harry's eyes. Horrible pain was reflected there, but there were other emotions as well. Hope, and also, well... love. "I'll try to help make up for it."

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Harry woke up with a start. It was no longer dark in the Shrieking Shack. Murky light filled the room.

"Draco, wake up," he said, rubbing the other boy's shoulder gently. Draco responded by burrowing his face farther into Harry's neck.

"No," he replied. "If I wake up it will be morning and last night will have all been a dream."

"No dream, love," Harry replied, kissing Draco's forehead. He tipped Draco's chin up and kissed his lips, softly. "But we have to get up and get going. We'll be missed soon."

Both boys struggled ungracefully to their feet, helping each other up. They brushed dust off their robes, then headed for the door. They joined hands naturally as they entered the tunnel. Their progress was somewhat impeded by the fact that they had to stop every few feet to kiss, but they eventually made it to the entrance.

"One more kiss before we go?" said Harry pleadingly.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" said Draco, teasing.

"No, not at all," Harry replied, pulling Draco closer to him and nipping gently at his lower lip. "I want to kiss you like this every day."

Draco, pleased, rubbed his hands up and down Harry's spine.

"When will I see you again?" said Harry, against Draco's lips.

"You'll see me in Potions and Care of Magical Creatures," Draco said.

"Don't be mean," Harry replied. "You know what I'm talking about."

Draco gave up any pretense of teasing. "Whenever you want," he said. "Whenever we can."

Draco and Harry reluctantly left the Whomping Willow and walked across the front lawn of Hogwarts. High above them, an early riser watched them from his sitting room window, cup of tea in hand. Hmmm, thought Albus Dumbledore. That certainly is an unexpected development.

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Harry arrived for his meeting with Professors Dumbledore and Figg in high spirits. They could throw anything at him and he wouldn't care. He had Draco now.

He and Professor Figg got to the stone gargoyle hiding the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office at the same time. "Ah, good, Harry, there you are," she said briskly. "And right on time too. Well, lets go up then, shall we? Sugar Plum!"

The gargoyle sprang to life and moved aside. Harry and Professor Figg ascended the spiral staircase, but instead of going right through the open door to Professor Dumbledore's office, Professor Figg rapped on the solid wood panel in front of them. It slid open, and Harry was greeted with one of the strangest sights of his life.

Harry's experience with wizard dwellings was limited. So far he had only seen the Weasley's home, full of musty chintz and mismatched crockery, and liberally scattered with magical instruments in various states of repair. Then there was Hogwarts, which was decorated in the austere medieval manner one might expect from a School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Dumbledore's sitting room was crammed with a hodgepodge of obscure magical instruments. A shelf beside Harry was overflowing with everything from magical texts with indecipherable Latin titles to oddly shaped talismans to a perfect representation of the Egyptian goddess Bast. An egg-shaped chair hung suspended in the middle of the floor. Diagrams of magical symbols covered the walls, along with ancient plaques written in Greek and in Egyptian hieroglyphs. In one corner stood a pedestal with a bowl atop that was emitting green light; in another was a cabinet absolutely stuffed with potion ingredients. Small gadgets whirled and clicked throughout the room.

Harry was just starting to examine a small glowing pyramid, when Professor Dumbledore appeared at a doorway in the far corner of the room.

"Good afternoon Harry, Arabella. Come in, please."

Harry and Professor Figg followed him into a small dining area, where Professor Dumbledore served them tea from, incongruously, a delicate Art Deco tea service.

"Now then, Harry," said Professor Dumbledore once they had all been served. "I expect you have many questions for Professor Figg and myself."

Both professors looked at Harry expectantly. He had no idea where to begin.

"I would think you'd want to know what I've been doing hanging about all these years," said Professor Figg, smiling. Harry blushed, wondering if she'd somehow overheard Ron's words on their first night back at Hogwarts.

"Well, yes," he answered.

"Do you know what a secret-keeper is, Harry?" Professor Figg asked.

"Yes," Harry replied. "Wormtail-Peter Pettigrew-was supposed to have been my parent's secret keeper."

"Yes, that's true, Harry," said Professor Figg, "and I am yours."

Harry was dumfounded. It had never occurred to him that someone had been guarding him from Voldemort for the past fourteen years, after his parents died. He had assumed that Voldemort was just, well, too weak to find him.

"Not just from Voldemort," said Dumbledore, seeming to read his mind. "From EVERYONE. The only ones who knew where you were, were myself, Professor Figg, Professor McGonagall, and Hagrid." Professor Dumbledore smiled at Harry. "I chose to hide you from the entire wizarding world, Harry. Do you understand why?"

"You... you didn't know who you could trust?" Harry said. Professor Dumbledore nodded encouragingly. "And you," Harry continued slowly, "you didn't want everyone else, the ones who could be trusted, making a big fuss over me?"

Professor Dumbledore was far too old and had seen too much to be surprised, but he came as close then as he had been in many years.

"Well done, Harry," he said. "That was my second reason. I was trusted with something extremely important after your parents died, and that something was you. I wanted you to grow up as yourself, not as the pet of the wizard community."

"I understand that," Harry said, stirring his tea thoughtfully. "But then, how were the Weasleys able to find me? Fred, George and Ron came and, er, rescued me from the Dursleys in the summer before second year."

"I am growing old," said Professor Dumbledore, winking at him, "but there are not many things that escape my notice, both at Hogwarts and in the outside world. I chose to let them come and "rescue" you."

Harry thought about that for a moment. Then his late night/early morning "meeting" with Draco entered his mind. He hoped Professor Dumbledore didn't know absolutely everything that went on at Hogwarts.

Professor Figg spoke again. "We've explained to you why I've been close to you while you lived with the Dursley's. But do you know why I've decided to come to Hogwarts this year?"

Harry shook his head mutely.

"The ring, Harry," she asked. "Are you keeping it safe?"

Harry's eyes widened in shock. "How do you know about the ring?" he gasped.

"I know about it because I'm the one who put it there, in the Dursley's house," she answered. "I lived there, you know."

"Well, how did you know I found it?" Harry said in bewilderment.

"Oh, Augustin told me," she answered. "He is the ring's guardian, a sort of magical alert system, one might say. He told me you'd found it, and Albus and myself decided it was safer to let you keep it, and for the two of us to share the job of guarding you, and the ring. The ring is very powerful. It could be quite dangerous, were it to fall into the wrong hands. So I came to Hogwarts."

"But now, Harry, as your parents placed their trust in us, so we must place ours in you. You must tell no one that you have that ring. If this secret were to be exposed, Lord Voldemort would come for that ring and would stop at nothing until he got it. Do you understand?"

"Yes," said Harry, gulping. He had already told two people, and one of them, my god, one of them was the son of a Death Eater. How could he have been so stupid?

"Good lad," said Professor Dumbledore. He and Professor Figg rose from the table and Harry followed suit. "It is a beautiful day and I am sure you would like to go and join your friends now."

"Remember, Harry," said Professor Figg. "Not a word to anyone about that ring or about the real reason I'm at Hogwarts."

"Of course not," said Harry. "Not a word to anyone. Good day, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Figg. I'll see myself out."

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