The Spirit of Death

Harry Potter

With Draco's Quidditch strip hidden at the bottom of his shopping bag, and his presents for Ron and Hermione piled in on top, Harry was satisfied that Draco would not find his Christmas present ahead of time. 'And if he does show an interest in my shopping, I'm sure I can think of something to distract him with,' he thought, with a smile, suddenly remembering that they could read each others' minds, and hoping that it didn't work long-range. It didn't seem to, Harry's was not aware of any thoughts other than his very own floating across his brain right at that moment.

He was drawing up the hill towards the Shrieking Shack, where he had arranged to meet Draco once they had each finished their shopping. As he neared the top of the incline, the white-blond crown of Draco's head came into view. He was looking the other way, out over the rolling countryside, from the impressive vantage point where few others dared go, for fear of the ghosts they believed haunted the Shack. Feeling Harry's presence, Draco turned and smiled at his partner, who dropped his shopping, carefully, and moved to hug him. They broke apart, both smiling their pleasure in the others company. It had been quite chilly throughout the day but there radiated, about the top of that hill, warmth that had been lacking even in some of the cosier shops. It was still snowing, but even the snow seemed to radiate brightness and warmth, gleaming white, in pristine drifts.

"How're you?" asked Draco. The words gently broke the soft silence of their non-verbal communication; Harry almost did a double take then took a couple of seconds mastering his jaw to fashion a response.

"Good," he managed, "you?"

This all seemed like a formality as they knew exactly how each other was, through their telepathy. Even over longer distances, where thoughts cannot distinctly be heard, each knew generally how the other was feeling.

"Oh!" said Draco suddenly, "you know what happened in Charms last week? I've found that ever since, I've been able to do some pretty awesome tricks!! Watch!" Harry watched, as his boyfriend flicked his wand at the snowdrift to Harry's left, facing away from the village. Right on the edge of the plateau on top of the hill, it looked as though a strong wind was blowing over the snow. It rushed away, then back then round in a spiral, carrying snow with it, until after a couple of seconds it had fashioned a loveseat overlooking the countryside, with a rectangular drift in front, like a coffee table or a footrest. Draco flicked his wand back and forth a couple more times, causing a wooden end-table to appear at either end of the loveseat, and a vast spread of food to appear on the table. Harry looked in awe.

"How did you do that?" he asked, returning his stare to Draco's face. He was smiling.

"I don't know - there's no incantation, but if I think about what I want to happen, the wand will actuate your thoughts when you flick it. It's weird, but kind of cool, especially once you master the flick. See if you can do it!"

"OK," said Harry, uncertainly, and drew his wand from his pocket. He looked around for inspiration then concentrated hard. He flicked his wand at the Shrieking Shack, a back door of which blew open. In the return motion, he caught Draco's crude snow-furniture, which was starting to melt under the heat of the pies Draco had 'made'. Then with a second sweep of the wand, it all moved fast, following the arc of Harry's arm movement, then through the door and inside the Shack.

"Nice!!" said Draco, eminently impressed, then turned to follow the table inside. Harry, walking behind him, smiled and waited for Draco's response. When Draco reached the door, Harry got what he was waiting for.

"Woah - Harry!! That must have been like five things you did in two movements!!"

Harry followed Draco into the Shack, closing the door behind him against the cold, and inspected his work. The snow furniture was nowhere to be seen, but a wooden loveseat, carved lovingly in the same style as Draco's snow-seat and piled high with cushions, was sitting behind a wooden version of Draco's table, in front of a roaring fire. There was also the addition of a couple of Harry's favourites to Draco's already ample spread of food.

"That's amazing," said Harry, taking time out to think about how much power he had harnessed during his little show-off. Neither of them dwelled on the matter though, both being too hungry, despite the fact that it had only been about four hours since breakfast.

When they had finished eating, Draco made the plates and leftovers disappear and the pair sat back in front of the fire, enjoying its warmth. They were holding hands on the loveseat, but sat in serene silence, communicating their enjoyment of a lazy afternoon together telepathically. Occasionally they played little magic tricks on each other, but the pair of them sat for hours together. Eventually, when the fire had burnt low and the sun had disappeared behind the close, winter horizon, Draco sat up and looked into Harry's face.

Harry and Draco stared at each other straight in the eye. The depth was unfathomable, the tension palpable, the intensity of the moment beyond anything either of them had ever experienced. Draco knew what he wanted to say to Harry, this boy for whom, at age sixteen, he felt as if he wanted to spend the rest of this life with. So many thoughts were rushing through both their heads. As they could tell what the other was thinking, or indeed was about to think, they both had a lot of the same thoughts at the same time, the intense magic between them compounding the usual effect of their telepathy to a point beyond any known to most of the rest of wizardkind.

There were so many obstacles and hindrances to be overcome for their relationship to blossom, nothing between either of the two boys, but external difficulties, not least of all, Draco's father Lucius. Just as important to Harry was the reaction of his close friends, especially Ron and Hermione. The three of them had been through so much together. It had always seemed, however corny it may have sounded, like they were the three musketeers or something. The fact that Harry now wanted to include someone new in his life, he feared, could make his relationship with Ron and Hermione seem sidelined. They were no longer the two most important people in Harry's life. This position was now completely filled by Draco. He was dreading having to tell anyone - Hermione already knew, but he was sure that when the time came to tell Ron, he would not be able to accept it, especially as Harry had kept it secret for so long. He knew could rely entirely on Hermione's word that she would not tell anyone, and took some comfort in that.

He had, on several occasions before the previous week, considered confiding in Hermione - he often felt too excited by his relationship with Draco to want to keep it a secret, but it was very hard to say. Plus he had rarely been able to talk Hermione alone since she and Ron had started dating. The pair of them were always very touchy-feely around each other, although Harry doubted that their relationship was anywhere near as 'real' as the his and Draco's. He was sure that Hermione would figure something out, though.

Harry's focus returned to the centre of Draco's beautiful, dark eyes. Harry felt he could happily drown in those eyes. Suddenly, the atmosphere between them changed, Draco drew a long, shaking breath. He held it, then,

"Harry?"

Draco was asking Harry's permission. Harry responded with the very slightest of facial expressions, a slight raising of his eyebrows and a lightening of his eyes indicating his assent.

On the same, held breath,

"I love you, Harry."

Neither of them said anything more, as nothing else needed saying. The atmosphere around them was so electric, so magical, that the still, night air glowed with the energy.

Draco and Harry were lost in each other's entire world, in each other's eyes, thoughts and emotions. It was the first time that either of them had used the word 'love' in the context of their relationship, and neither one of them could think of anything they wanted more than to spend the rest of their lives together, wrapped up in that moment, until the end of time.

They were nose to nose on the sofa, in each other's arms, both burning with desire. The gravity and meaning that Draco's words had brought was so profound that neither of them had the words to begin to describe what they were feeling. Nor did they need to. Each emotion that one boy felt was ringing through the other's head, clear as day. Harry opened his mouth, and he reached around his own back, finding his partner's hands, clasped together at his lower back. He continued to stare through Draco's eyes, into his heart, and spoke straight from his own.

"That's the first time anyone has ever said that to me," he whispered, close to tears. He put his arms back around Draco's back and held him as close as he could without crushing him. Draco inclined his head towards Harry's, rubbing their noses, until their lips met. The touch of Draco's soft, smooth lips was so delicate, so sensual that Harry broke away, silent tears now streaming down his cheeks. He put his head over Draco's shoulder and held Draco's body tightly to his own.

"Don't ever leave me," he wept, "I love you too, more than anything in the world."

"Harry, I promise, I will never, ever let you go."

At the same moment they both leaned in and their lips met again. The touch was more tender then ever, at first, but then the kiss became more passionate and both of them felt more in love than ever before. Draco pulled off and looked at Harry, breathing hard. He leaned in slightly again, and Harry started close his eyes, but then Draco kicked himself back off the seat, landing smartly on the hardwood floor as the seat slid to a halt again.

"If you want another one, you're going to have to catch me," he taunted, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Harry grinned, then sprang after him. They tore around the house, up and down the stairs and through all of the rooms, jumping over dusty furniture they went, laughing uncontrollably at the puerility of what they were doing. Harry drew his wand from his pocket again, and flicked it at Draco, whose feet were pulled from under him. He rotated forward, but then swept across the room before landing, on his back, back on the loveseat. Harry then flung his wand aside and sank down on top of Draco on the seat.

"Got you!" he whispered, smiling, then they kissed again.

Shortly after they had finished kissing, they both decided that it was probably time they went back to school, it was dark after all. Harry got off Draco, who then stood up beside him. Draco flicked his wand at their seat, which vaporized, then swept through the house replacing the shiny stripes where they had been running with an ample layer of dust.

As Draco moved the remaining furniture back to where it was meant to be, shown up by the shiny holes in the dust that the loveseat had left after its sweep of the house, and returned Harry's wand to his back pocket, Harry began to beat the dust off the back of Draco's robes.

"Ooh - I think I quite like you stroking me just there," said Draco, and they both began giggling.

"Are we ready to go, then?" asked Harry, casting his eyes around the room for anything they had left behind, or anything out of place. Satisfied that all was well, Harry slapped Draco where he'd just been stroking him, and strode out of the door.

"Hey!" said Draco, trying to sound annoyed, but loving it. They childish behaviour continued until they were at the top of the slope that led back down to Hogsmeade.

"Umm, we'd better go separately," said Draco glumly, "we can't really be seen together, can we?" Harry was on the point of agreeing with Draco when he remembered something.

"Follow me," he said, suddenly, grabbing Draco's hand and leading him back into the Shrieking Shack.

"Harry, its really late, we really ought to go back. If we both get back too late then people will get ideas!!"

"Just shush for a minute," said Harry, a little impatiently, drawing his wand. He flicked the end of his wand towards the middle of the now darkened room, and waited. Nothing happened. He did it again, and one of the rooms off the living room they were in there was muffled thud of wood on dusty wood. Draco suddenly tensed a little.

"Harry, this place is haunted, you know," he managed, his voice starting to shake a little.

"No its not," said Harry, leading the way into what turned out to be a kind of study, following the sound of the thud.

In the middle of the room there was a large, square, black hole in the floor.

"Follow me," Harry instructed Draco, who was slightly calmed now that he had taken time out from being frightened to read Harry's mind to find out that there was nothing untoward going on. He began to feel a little excited at the proposition of another little adventure. He watched Harry lower himself as far as he could into the hole, then drop out of site. A split second later he heard Harry land safely on the floor of whatever was down the hole.

"Hold on," called Harry, "Lumos." The hole was illuminated by the soft light of Harry's wand.

"Watch out then," called Draco, down the hole. Harry receded into the tunnel a little, so that Draco wouldn't land on top of him, smiling inwardly at the idea that that was not such a bad one. He heard Draco laugh a little, and knew he had picked up in Harry's private joke. A second later, Draco landed beside him. Harry quickly flicked his wand at the trapdoor, and ran a little further into the tunnel. The door swung shut, covering Draco in dust once again.

"Oh, come on," protested Draco, who was otherwise lost for words after Harry's practical joke. Harry turned the light of his wand on Draco, and saw a thick layer of dust on top of Draco's head and shoulders. He enjoyed the sight for a few seconds before Draco dusted himself off with his wand.

"You had to know I was going to do that," laughed Harry as they made their way down the tunnel.

"I felt you thinking about it, but I didn't think you were that mean!!" replied Draco, now laughing himself. "Where is this, anyway?"

"It's a tunnel..." began Harry.

"You're kidding!" Draco interjected.

"Very funny - it's a tunnel that runs between the Shrieking Shack and the base of the Whomping Willow," explained Harry.

"The Whomping Willow," repeated Draco, "the Whomping Willow that almost killed you and Weasley and his car at the beginning of Second Year?"

"The same," replied Harry, remembering the incident Draco described.

"Umm, OK," Draco seemed to be measuring his response, "how the hell do we get past this murderous tree, once it's noticed a couple of juicy Sixth Years appearing?"

"Don't worry," Harry assured Draco, "you know that knot in the trunk?"

"Ahh," said Draco, reading Harry's mind once again. They quickened their pace. At the end of the tunnel, where they could just see moonlight through the moss that covered the outlet of their tunnel, both boys stopped, realising they dilemma. They were both pretty sure that there wasn't much chance that nobody was looking out of any of the hundreds of windows that overlooked the grounds in the direction of the Whomping Willow. While it was dark, and quite late, it was not yet time for dinner, so they didn't have the guarantee that most people would be in the Great Hall eating. Draco had the idea first.

"Good one," said Harry, before Draco had even moved. Harry shuffled as far as he could to one side of the tunnel, allowing Draco to move to the mouth of the tunnel, just behind the moss curtain, and poke the end of his wand through the gap. The scene darkened almost completely as the cloud that Draco had conjured in front of the moon did its job.

"Your job, now," whispered Draco, "time to stop this tree from murdering us!" Harry noticed that Draco still sounded a little nervous about taking on this venerable and short-tempered tree. Harry reached out with one arm, and touched the knot on the trunk with the tip of his wand.

"Nothing's happening," said Harry, a little nervously, jabbing the trunk again, and infuriating the tree further. When he said that, he'd meant that the tree had not stopped thrashing around, as it had begun to do when Draco had shot his cloud in front of the moon.

"Oh God," said Draco. He knew it wasn't immediately life-threatening, as they could simply make their way back down the tunnel and into the Shack, in order to walk all the way back the Hogwarts from the little village, but this could take anything up to an hour. By then it would be too late, and they would both be punished for coming back too late from Hogsmeade - they only had about 15 minutes before the prescribed time by which all students had to have returned from the village.

"Hold on," said Harry, reaching around and touching Draco's shoulder, "we can make the tree stop moving, without using the knot."

"Harry, that tree is one of the most magical objects in the world," said Draco, "we don't stand a chance of stopping it."

"I bet we do," replied Harry, "with our 'think-and-flick' magic!" Harry had turned around and was looking straight into Draco's eyes, which then began to twinkle.

"Alright," he said, his spirit of adventure rekindled, "together, on three." Both boys reached tentatively out through the moss, "one - two - THREE!!" Both boys flicked their wands aimlessly through the moss-curtain, but it immediately had the desired effect - the tree had frozen solid. As the boys emerged, slowly, from between to huge roots of the Willow, they saw that they had not cast any spell at all, but were conducting magic away from it. They could both see a dark green light, the same colour as the Willow's bark, moving from the old tree to the ends of their wands, then leaving them, and flowing back down the tunnel they had just come through. Ignoring their sense of awe at the magic they were controlling, both boys ran out of range of the tree, then lowered their wands.

"Look," exclaimed Draco suddenly, pointing in the direction of Hogsmeade. Harry followed Draco's line of vision, and saw that the Shrieking Shack, usually unnoticeable from Hogwarts, especially on dark nights, had light radiating through cracks in the boarded up windows. As they watched, the light faded from the old house. Then they heard a rushing sound, which filled Harry with fear. He stood, rooted to the spot as dark green light blasted out through the hole that was the end of the tunnel.

The rushing became louder and more terrifying as it swept towards the two boys. The light got brighter and brighter green, advancing rapidly. In seconds it had covered the short distance between the boys and the hole it was coming from, and when it struck the pain both of them experienced was paralysing. Just before it struck, Harry had had a notion of trying to run, and had started to reach out the grab Draco's robes and lead him away, but the searing pain overwhelmed him, and he fell to the floor in agony. He had no idea what was happening, but became aware in some small part of his waning consciousness that was not consumed by terror, that he was leaving his body. Suddenly he was above the scene, looking down upon it. He could see his own body, and, beside it, the limp form of Draco lying motionless in the snow. He also could see a pale mist being ripped from Draco's body, and the tail of his own spirit clinging to his body. The green light suddenly swung away from the two bodies back towards the Whomping Willow. The terrible rushing was now joined by the creaking and squeaking sound that the wood of the tree made as it struggled to resist the incredible force applied to it. Harry could see the Willow bending severely as the light was dissipated on the bark. Then, he fell from his vantage point, heading directly back to his body; when he hit the ground the world faded. As the boys' unconscious bodies lay on the ground, Draco's cloud began to snow gently down upon them.

* * *

Draco's eyes snapped open. He found that he was staring at the vaulted ceiling of the hospital wing. As ever, Madam Pomfrey was quick to notice when her charges had come round, and bustled over with potions for him to take.

"Don't know what you two were thinking," she said, to herself more than anyone else, "hanging around that tree in the dead of night with no supervision, no permission to be out when it's dark, and with You Know Who back in power. Take this."

Draco, who had been trying to remember what had happened, and had not been listening, looked up at Madam Pomfrey. "What?"

"The potion, boy, drink it!!" she repeated, holding the goblet to his lips.

"Oh," said Draco, and without even asking what it was or what it was for, drank it all. It tasted foul, and burned as he swallowed it. "Ugh" he spluttered, "what on earth was that?"

"It's to treat your burns," the matron replied, "magical burns all over your face and hands." Draco tried to raise his hand to inspect it, but it caused him a great deal of pain, so he desisted.

Across the room, Harry awoke with a moan of pain. The scar on his forehead was burning, as was the rest of his face and the backs of his hands. He tried to move but he ached so much that he could no longer see the point in doing so. He could tell that Draco was in pain, he could feel it too, and could also tell that he was nearby.

"Dr..." he called, and at that moment Draco gave a very loud moan of pain. Something entered his head, taking up some space that had been occupied by pain: surnames only - and no being nice - there are people here!! Harry opened his eyes and felt, like he had on several occasions in his school career at Hogwarts, the sense of disorientation that comes with awaking in the hospital wing of the school. This gave him the motivation to move, he stretched out his arm to try and locate his glasses. Finding them on his nightstand he put them on, then forced himself to sit up. He felt very tired, and had to concentrate quite hard to keep his eyes open. He saw Draco lying still in a bed on the opposite side of the ward, his face covered in long, narrow burns. Trying as hard as he could to conceal his distress, he looked himself over and found burns of a similar shape to Draco's all over the back of his hands. Madam Pomfrey came over and administered the same potion she had just given Draco to Harry, whose reaction was identical.

"Ugh, what is that stuff?"

Madam Pomfrey just tutted, then stumped off down the ward into her office, closing the door behind her. Scanning the ward to make sure that they were the only people there, Harry called over to Draco.

"You OK?"

"I'm alive - I hurt like hell though. What about you?"

"I'm OK - tired and achy though. These burns sting too, must be the potion."

"What happened?" asked Draco, and Harry noticed that his voice sounded odd - he was obviously trying not to move his face or jaw too much.

"No idea," Harry confessed.

"I remember looking down and seeing us, then falling," said Draco.

"Me too," said Harry. At that moment they both fell silent again, as the door handle rattled and the door to the ward opened. Harry could see that Professor Dumbledore had entered, accompanied by Professors Snape and McGonagall. There was a click at the other end of the ward as Madam Pomfrey close her office door behind her, having re-entered the ward. As Dumbledore made his way down the long ward to speak to her, he saw Harry sitting up, and nodded. Professor McGonagall acknowledged Harry too, but Snape ignored him completely.

"How are they, Poppy," Harry heard Dumbledore ask the matron.

"Mr Potter is just very tired, so he can leave this morning, once he has taken a time-delay sleeping potion," replied Madam Pomfrey, "Mr Malfoy, on the other hand, was rather more badly afflicted and is in some degree of pain, so I expect to discharge him in time for the Leavers' feast on the last day of term."

Harry felt genuinely sorry for Draco. He was concerned about what was wrong with him, and knew that he could not show too much outward interest in it. He also knew that time in the hospital wing passed very slowly, and the prospect of spending three more days in there was one that Harry was happy not to have to face himself.

Now that Madam Pomfrey had finished briefing the three teachers, they pored over first Draco, then Harry, examining the burns and asking yes-or-no questions about the pain they were experiencing. For this reason they spend longer over Draco than Harry, as Harry was in little pain by comparison. When they had finished examining Harry and Professors Snape and McGonagall left, Dumbledore remained behind. Checking that Madam Pomfrey was sufficiently engrossed in her office, he began to speak.

"Listen to me - once you have both been discharged from here, I will need to speak with you both. You will find out what about when we meet again. I am sure you have the means, Mr Malfoy, to let Harry know when you are allowed to leave, so that you can both meet me straight after your, err, release." He smiled briefly, then turned and left.

Harry left the hospital wing shortly after Dumbledore, promising Draco that he would visit if at all possible, or at least come close so that they could 'talk'. Back down in the main school, Harry found it hard to concentrate on his lessons, not only because he was extremely tired, but because people kept congratulating him. Evidently the story that had been circulated was that Harry and Draco had had some kind of duel in which they had both knocked each other out. As Harry had made an appearance back into the daily routine, everybody therefore assumed that Harry had done more damage to Draco than Draco had to him, and Harry found it quite difficult to restrain himself from punching people like Ernie Macmillan, who made it quite clear that they were entirely satisfied with the fact that Draco Malfoy had received what they perceived to be some kind of comeuppance.

"A good thorough walloping was just what the bastard needed. Good on you Harry, old boy," Ernie had said. Greatly riled by Ernie's comment, the only reason that Harry had not hit Ernie was because he had felt the smallest of tugs on the back of his robes and, looking around, had seen Hermione shoot him the briefest of warning looks before continuing her way down the corridor. Harry had followed her, and as they had reached a particularly busy junction of the complicated network of third floor corridors they had been walking along, Hermione had taken Harry aside for a second.

"Be careful, Harry," she had whispered, almost silently. "We can only do so much to cover for you two." Harry could only assume that 'we' were her and Professor Dumbledore, and perhaps the rest of the Order of the Phoenix, if they knew yet. The chances were that they did know, though Dumbledore was known to keep particularly sensitive information secret even from his greatest confidants.

Harry made it through the week without losing his temper publicly with anyone. In private though, in his bed at night, he found it very hard to sleep without knowing how Draco was. He could tell that he was getting better, as elemental emotions had the greatest telepathic 'range'. Having not been able to go visit had been the hardest part for Harry though. He did not dare even to use his invisibility cloak to make his way through the school in the dead of night, because if Madam Pomfrey heard Draco talking to thin air, then she would keep him in for even longer. Also Harry knew that Draco needed rest. On the last Friday of term, though Harry made his way up to his bed after classes had ended, promising Ron that he would meet him and Hermione outside for a snowball fight once he'd had a rest. He was still incredibly tired, but when he reached the dormitory he felt more awake than he had at any point since leaving the hospital wing. As he walked through the door he could see, across the dark room, that there was a golden light shining out around the drawer of his nightstand. Fortunately there was nobody else in the dormitory, for Harry raced across the room and snatched the magical parchment out of the drawer to read the message.

I'm free!! We'd better go see what Dumbledore wanted. I'll meet you on the fifth floor, so we can go up together. Can't wait to see you!

Excited at the prospect of seeing Draco again for the first time in four days, Harry shoved the parchment back into the drawer, and Summoned the Marauder's Map from the trunk at the bottom of his bed.

"I solemnly swear that I'm up no good," Harry announced. With that, the magical map of Hogwarts traced itself out on the old parchment. Scanning it, Harry ascertained which part of the fifth floor Draco was waiting on, then pocketed the map and set off. Five minutes later at the top of a flight of stairs landing on the fifth floor, Harry drew the map back out of his pocket. He could see the dot representing Draco standing just around the corner. He quickly scanned the rest of the map to make sure the coast was clear. Pocketing the map once again, Harry then swept around the corner and took Draco in his arms. Both of them were overjoyed at their reunion, and when they had finished hugging, Harry took a step back from Draco and appraised him for a few moments. He was a little thinner than before, but looked much better, though still tired. He was also back to his good-looking self, now that the burns that had covered his face when they had last seen each other on Monday morning were gone. They smiled at each other, then after a few more moments, Draco suggested that they make their way upstairs.

"Hold on," said Harry, realising that the pair of them walking through the corridors together was probably not a great idea if people were hanging around. He drew the Marauders Map out of his pocket again, and studied it closely. To his immediate surprise he noticed that Filch was about to mount that stairs that Harry had come up moments before. Grabbing Draco's hand, Harry led the way swiftly up the next flight of stairs and around a corner before studying the map yet again, to ensure that they had given Filch the slip. A little out of breath, Draco managed to speak.

"What is that?" he asked.

"Oh," said Harry, and showed it to him.

Draco was as enthralled with it as Harry had been the first time he had seen it.

"Wow," he exclaimed. "Is that dot, me?" He took a few steps in either direction, still within view of the map, and smiled as he saw the corresponding dot on the map, labelled Draco Malfoy, move from side to side. Harry chuckled, then led Draco up to Dumbledore's office.

Confronted with the stone gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office, Harry noticed a small flaw in Dumbledore's plan: neither of the boys knew the password. Then remembering that on the first occasion that Harry had ever used the map, it had told him the password to open the passage behind a statue of a hump-backed witch, Harry looked again at the map.

As Draco peered over Harry's shoulder, a minute speech bubble appeared next to the perfect drawing of the gargoyle and within it was written the password, 'Liquorice Stick'. Harry smiled, remembering that Dumbledore liked to use confectionary for his passwords, often choosing Muggle sweets which most wizards were unlikely to have heard of, for added security. As Draco struggled to pronounce the word he had been confronted with, Harry told the gargoyle the password, which made Draco jump slightly when it sprang aside. They stood on the moving stone steps, which transported them up to the door of Dumbledore's office. They both knocked, and waited to be invited in. The door opened.

"Oh!" said Dumbledore, sounding slightly surprised to see them. "I was just thinking about coming to wait outside to let you in. You saved me the journey!!" His eyes twinkled at Harry who stuck his wand in his pocket.

"Mischief managed," he muttered, as Dumbledore turned away to allow them into his room.

"Sit, please." The old man conjured two chairs in front of his desk, then settled in his own throne-like chair on the opposite side. They sat, and Dumbledore steepled his fingers, then looked at the pair of them over the top of his glasses, in his characteristic way.

"My boys," began Dumbledore finally, "what has happened to you two?"

Harry and Draco looked at each other nervously. They were both sure that they were in trouble for the damage they had caused to the Whomping Willow and for being out of school past curfew.

"There's no need to look so worried, I just need to talk to you about the recent discoveries you two have made," he continued, noticing their body language.

"What discovery?" asked Draco, a hint of a sneer in his voice which Harry thought was a little out of character for Draco. Sensing this, Draco revised his question, "I mean - so we're both gay..." It sounded odd, as this was the first time that Harry had heard the word 'gay' used to describe himself. He knew it was right, but had avoided using it thus far in case he had to decide that he wasn't, if Draco wouldn't have him. These complicated thoughts seemed to either have occurred to, or been sensed by, Draco, as he found Harry's hand and gave it a slight squeeze, before glancing back up at the headmaster and dropping it again.

"You have discovered at your young ages, something that many wizards are lucky ever to find, and rarely do. This may sound a bit sensational considering the stage of your relationship, but after your displays since Harry's additional Potions tutoring, my certainty has increased." Dumbledore paused, mid-statement.

"What is it," they asked in quiet unison.

"Love," said Dumbledore gently, "real, strong, true love." He paused a moment for this statement to sink in a little. "You two will never be truly apart for the rest of your existences. Your very souls are entwined and interdependent. Your display on Sunday after your return from Hogsmeade are evidence of that"

"I see teenagers kiss all the time, one only need stroll through the courtyards to see young love at work. However, how many times have you seen flashes of light surround these immature couples?" asked Dumbledore. "The power that surrounds the pair of you is immense. With the emotional intensity of that single moment, and the tension which built before it, cause large magical instabilities as they do so. In that instant, that flash of light, the pair of you harnessed more power than most other living wizards, unifying your discrete magic, that the full power of it may be available to both of you. The power of this magic is sufficient to affect and harness the magic of other wizards and magical objects around you, making the pair of you immensely powerful. I have never seen this happen to anyone in this school before, nor heard of it happening to anyone your age. There are very few couples like you in existence. Upsetting this magic will destroy both of you."

This long speech sounded a lot like a warning. It also sounded like they weren't necessarily going to be together because they loved each other - but because they would not be able to exist otherwise. Dumbledore saw the looks on their faces.

"Fear not boys, as this is not the primitive magic such as most of that taught within these old walls; these bonds do not form if there is even the slightest chance of breakage - your love will grow stronger even than your magic - you will be able to harness and control enormous power. The power you do possess would appear to be quite prodigious, and I severely doubt you have come anywhere near fulfilling your magical potential. This, my boys, is very exciting!!"

Still neither Harry nor Draco could think of anything to say.

"I suppose you're wondering what happened to you on Sunday?" Dumbledore asked. Still failing to speak, both boys nodded. Dumbledore sat back in his chair, and steepled his fingers once again, considering his explanation.

"The Whomping Willow, as I'm sure you're both aware, is an extremely magical object. It was placed here at Hogwarts for a very specific reason."

Harry, who knew that the Whomping Willow had been planted over the end of the tunnel to stop unsuspecting students from coming across Remus Lupin during a full moon, started to speak. Dumbledore did not look annoyed at the interruption, he merely raised his hand, and answered Harry's unuttered question.

"There are many other species of plant we could have used to stop people from reaching the Shrieking Shack, Harry. The reason the Ministry chose this particular one was because it had just come into their possession after the raid of a Dark household, and they needed somewhere more secure than the Ministry of Magic buildings to keep it in, so at Hogwarts, it could serve a dual purpose."

Dumbledore did not seem to be in any particular hurry to get to the point of his story. He already knew this story, not from Harry, but from his father, who had told him all about it when Lupin had been appointed Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, three years previously.

"What other purpose did it serve, then?" asked Draco, eager to get to the point, though sounding a little impatient too.

"Well," said Dumbledore feeling also that he had finally reached the interesting part of his story. "The green light you conducted away from the tree when you tried to freeze it, the intensity of it when it came back from the Shack, the rushing sound it made, did it remind you of anything?"

Harry didn't have to think long to arrive at his answer. As the sense of dawning appeared on their faces, Dumbledore continued before the boys responded.

"The Spirit of Death, the very substance of the Avada Kedavra killing curse. When it rushed back out of that tunnel, in enormous supply, the simple reason that you two weren't killed instantly was because you were in such an immensely powerful position. That alone would not have saved you though. As the source of the power, the tree attracted it back and bore the brunt for you, and was almost killed in the process. The burns you received were from the leaves of the tree, every single one of which was stripped by the power of the magic. This," he paused, "is why Voldemort," Draco flinched, "was almost killed by his own curse. That spell could have rebounded upon anyone else in that room, but as he was so powerful, he attracted the magic back toward himself. This is the reason your potential power of your combined magic is potentially lethal to the two of you, so you must be very careful how you use it. I would strongly recommend that you leave your clairvoyant conjuring well alone, until your relationship has matured, magically, else you could easily become consumed by the power."

Something was beginning to dawn on Harry, but before he had this thoughts in order, Draco voiced them for him, "So I guess with all this power that Harry and I seem to have, we're going to be kind of useful in fighting the Dark Side, now that You-Know Who has returned."

Dumbledore did not answer immediately. Instead he turned to Harry.

"Harry, is it acceptable to you to discuss the occurrences at the end of last year with Mr Malfoy?"

"Anything concerning me, Draco is entitled to hear," replied Harry, looking straight into Dumbledore's blue eyes. During the summer he had had time to think about what Dumbledore had done, and his reasoning, and had written him an apology following his behaviour and destruction of property following his return from the Ministry of Magic. His trust in the old man was reformed entirely.

"Would you like to tell the story, or shall I, Harry?" asked Dumbledore gently. As Harry recalled the events, ranging from fighting Death Eaters to the death of his last remaining shred of magical family when Sirius had fallen through the archway, his eyes began to fill. He felt that he didn't want to speak, so shook his head and pointed at Dumbledore, indicating that Dumbledore should continue.

"Towards the end of term last year, Harry and some of his friends found themselves in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic in London," he began, focussing entirely on Malfoy. "In the Room of Prophecy, Harry discovered that there is a prophecy linking him and Voldemort. The Ministry record of the prophecy was destroyed in the struggle between Harry and his friends and the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. However, I have stored the memory in a much more secure place."

Dumbledore turned around to get something out of the cupboard. Harry knew what was coming. Dumbledore placed his Pensieve on his desk, then turned the heavy, stone bowl round so that it faced the two boys, then reached around the back plate and stirred the silvery contents with his wand. As it had at the end of the previous year, the mist rose from the bowl and formed itself into a likeness of Professor Trelawney, and a harsh voice filled the room. Harry closed his eyes as he remembered how he had been feeling the last time he heard these words.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."

The misty face receded into the depths of the bowl. Dumbledore replaced the Pensieve in its cupboard, then returned to his seat and surveyed the two boys over the top of his half-moon glasses, then continued his tale, as though he had merely paused for breath.

"When Voldemort attacked and tried to kill Harry that night, when he failed, he unwittingly transferred power to Harry. Power which had kept him alive through subsequent attacks, power denoted by the scar on his forehead, and power which enabled him to duel with Voldemort during the final of the Triwizard Tournament two years ago as many mature wizards would have died attempting. The additional power which 'the Dark Lord knows not' is the power of his mother's blood, for she sacrificed herself to Voldemort to stop him killing Harry. This is ancient magic which was only sealed by Harry living with a blood-relative of that devoted woman. There is now, of course, another power which he knows not."

He paused and looked at the boys, apparently to see if they had any questions, which they did not.

"This brings me on nicely to a point I needed to talk to you about anyway, Harry, regardless of more recent developments."

Harry looked up from the floor he had been staring at during Dumbledore's story, into the great man's eyes.

"I think you should go home for Christmas," he stated. Harry's eyes widened in horror. "I know you hate it there, but I think in the current state of affairs, with Voldemort returned to power, that you be somewhere he cannot possibly touch you."

"But Hogwarts is very secure," said Harry, not in the least bit wanting to spend any more time than he absolutely had to with the Dursleys.

"I know Hogwarts is very secure, Harry," said Dumbledore, replying calmly to Harry's unfinished question, "but because of the magic I described to you last year, your aunt and uncle's house is completely secure. However unlikely it may be, Hogwarts defences can be overcome by the most powerful of wizards and those we are dealing with are certainly some of them. I feel it necessary to 'top-up' the defence that your sister's family can afford you, especially after your ordeal. The power of that tree almost killed you. The mist you could see clinging to your bodies was your very spirit; if it had not managed to keep a hold on your body, you would have died."

There were a few seconds of silence, but now it was Draco felt it was his turn to defend Harry.

"You said that if we're apart we'll both be destroyed," he said, his voice shaking as he spoke, as he realised the full scope of what Dumbledore had been telling them, "you said that we can never be truly apart, so you can't send Harry away from me." Dumbledore smiled, then addressed his response directly to Draco.

"This would not count as 'proper' separation, if you will," began Dumbledore, "however, having anticipated your response, I have, err, arranged with Harry's family that you may accompany him over the Christmas holidays." Draco went paler than usual, and when he eventually began to speak, his voice was deadpan.

"My father will never go for that," he whispered. He looked the most scared Harry had ever seen anyone. "He'll want to know where I am, he'll want to know what I'm doing, who I'm with, he'll make me come home. And he'll," he looked to his right at Harry, who was watching him with emotion rising in his chest and tears rising in his eyes at Draco's eminent vulnerability, "he'll find out about us." He reached out and took Harry's hand. Dumbledore, who also seemed quite moved by what Draco had been saying, was watching the two boys in front of him and considering his response to the predicament that now faced him. But he did not have time to respond before the door burst open.

Lucius Malfoy stormed into the room, snow flying off his cloak and slush splattering off his boots, and he was furious. He was also quite taken aback by the scene that greeted him as he stared at Dumbledore. Draco tried quickly to inconspicuously drop Harry's hand, but Lucius' face was already contorted, and his hand was moving quickly to the inside of his cloak.

"What is going on here," he demanded, starting straight at Dumbledore again. "What are these two doing in here, or is it just that Potter has been cheating at Quidditch again?" He appeared extremely deranged. "Draco - why didn't you respond to my owls? I've been sending them repeatedly over the last twenty minutes to no avail. I knew something must be going on. Well, Dumbledore I'm waiting for an explanation. I've been hearing things about duelling - I hope Potter is here to receive due punishment!"

"Although the Headmaster is answerable to the parents of all the students of this school, he is not obliged to submit to invasions of his private offices Lucius. As you were relieved of you post as a parent-governor a considerable time ago, you are no longer entitled to enter the Hogwarts grounds. Please leave, I will be happy to respond to any communication you may send, provided it is through the correct channels." Dumbledore was not standing, and although his voice was calm, his eyes were blazing as they always did when he was angry. Without breaking Lucius' stare, he raised his wand and opened the door of the office.

Lucius was fuming. His wand now firmly in his hand, he pointed it at Draco. "Get outside, boy, we need to talk." Draco, who was shaking violently, remained seated. His father's lips curled, then opened as he uttered the curse.

"Imperio!"

As a blue light began to erupt from Lucius' wand, Dumbledore shot a silver shield, similar to the one Voldemort had used in the Ministry of Magic the year before. As the jet of silver came between the boys and began to form a shield between them and Malfoy's curse, the two boys simultaneously cried, "Stupefy!". There was a horrific roaring, sheering sound and two jets of red light emanated from the boys' wands, as at the same time the magic from Lucius' and Dumbledore's wands faltered. The Stunning spells united before they struck, and when they did, Lucius Malfoy was lifted clear off his feet and hurled against the stone all of the office with incredible force. The three conscious occupants of the office stared in awe at the power of the spells that had been cast, as blood began to flow freely round Lucius neck, from the sizeable cut on the back of his head.

Still evidently furious, though calmer than he had been, Dumbledore strode to the fire and cast Floo powder into flames that he conjured as he walked. He summoned Madam Pomfrey who stepped out of the fireplace and got to work stemming the flow of blood from the man's head. Meanwhile, Dumbledore summoned a small group of house elves from the kitchens to remove the limp form of Draco's father. As the last elf left the room with his burden, Dumbledore reached out and touched it on the shoulder.

"Take him to the edge of the grounds, and revive him."

"Yes, sir, yes," replied the elf. Dumbledore shut the door behind the procession of elves.

"Thank you, Poppy," said Dumbledore. While he had not said so explicitly, he was obviously asking her to leave. She looked at him, and nodded once on her way out of the office.

"Well, my boys," he said, calm and serene once again, "that was a rather extreme and unforeseen way to deal with one of our problems," he looked at Harry, and then to Draco.

"I don't think in the current circumstances, following your father's behaviour, that we could let you go home, that'll be our excuse should we need one. You will be spending Christmas with Harry in Surrey, with his aunt and uncle.

"I have arranged, for the duration of your stay in Privet Drive, as a trial period, in light of the heightened state of danger for the pair of you, and partly as recompense on the part of the Ministry for the inconvenience they caused you when you were barred from playing Quidditch last year," he said, turning briefly to Harry, "for you both to be permitted to use magic, with reasonable respect for secrecy, while in the home of Mr and Mrs Vernon Dursley. You must not use magic in front of anybody except your family, Harry, that is very important. Although Voldemort cannot find out exactly where you are, if there are reports of magical activity in that neighbourhood, it could make it very difficult for us to get you back out of there alive, because as soon as you leave the house he can see you.

"Now, the pair of you will have exclusive use of an invisible, additional compartment on the Hogwarts Express, so that we can keep this from the rest of the school for as long as we can, until you feel you can deal with any social consequences there may be. That part you may do in your own time. Beware, of course, that due to the nature of the reputation of both your families, now that there is knowledge of your relationship outside of the School, it may not be long until it is common knowledge - I would not like to see your respective existing relationships suffer as a result of this. However, on this point I may only advise you, as it is not my place to say how you must handle your private affairs.

"It is necessary at this point for you, Draco, to be made aware of a long-standing and very secret group of wizards who are the forefront of the non-Ministry resistance to the forces of evil. The Order of the Phoenix is a group of witches and wizards, headed by me, who will work to protect you and Harry as much as it is possible to do so. One element of his will be to teach you skills way beyond the scope of any qualification available ordinarily at this school. A number of teachers here are members of the Order, including Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, in addition to myself. Additional members of the Order will visit the school to share with you specialist knowledge in their particular fields of expertise, including one person you already know, Draco, and one that you may have thought you did. I speak of Professors Moody and Lupin, both of whom will be instructing you in advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts. Some training will take place over the holidays at the headquarters in Grimmauld Place."

Dumbledore now pushed his chair back from the desk a little, so he could comfortably open the drawer in front of him. He produced two purple, gold-embellished tickets.

"Your ride home," he said, presenting the tickets to the boys, "have a very merry Christmas, I'll be seeing you soon."

The old man turned around and began stowing his Pensieve a little more securely. The two boys bade Dumbledore a merry Christmas also, turned and left the office. Once at the bottom of the stairs, as the gargoyle slid back into place, Draco hung himself around Harry's neck.

"I love you Harry, so much. I don't want ever to go home, I want to be with you forever."

"Good," said Harry, smiling at Draco now that he had let go, "'cos you're stuck with me forever anyway!!" He turned smartly and began to walk off. Harry looked behind him as he walked, "Use your parchment at, say, nine tonight, we'll arrange where to meet to go home."

"Right," called Draco, staring at Harry's behind as he walked away. He drew his wand, and caused a gust of wind to blow Harry's robes up in the air, then giggled as he watched Harry try as hard as he could to hold them down.

"Very droll, Draco," called Harry as he started down the stairs, his face bright red, and his heart in his throat. Draco chuckled all the way back to his dormitory, feeling lighter than air at the prospect of Christmas with Harry.

* * *

Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry had just told Hermione and Ron about Dumbledore's last-minute plan to send him to Privet Drive for Christmas, feigning exasperation, but feeling extremely excited at the idea. Ron was outraged.

"He wants you to have to waste Christmas with Muggles?" he cried, incredulously. "I'll get Mum to talk to him, get him to let you come to ours."

"Dumbledore says that Privet Drive is really, really safe though," said Harry, in a resigned tone.

"But, Christmas won't be the same without you," said Ron, now sounding more upset than annoyed. This comment touched Harry, and he felt at the same time, a rush of warmth towards Ron, and the sense that perhaps he was sidelining Ron and Hermione for Draco. He felt better though, when he realised the Dumbledore was making him go home anyway, and there was no chance that the Dursleys would take three teenage wizards, so he quelled his initial feeling of guilt by telling himself that Draco's company was better than none. As he lay in bed that night, he felt that it was much better than none!

At nine, as agreed, Harry drew his magical parchment from his nightstand, and set it upon his lap, drawing the hangings of his four-poster with his wand, to ensure privacy. When he looked at it, he saw that there was already a message waiting on it, and with a pang of horror, he did not recognise the script as Draco's. He read the message at light-speed, then relaxed slightly, as the message which read:

Would you please return to my office tomorrow, as I have a better way for you to get onto the Hogwarts Express than by using the platform. Leave your luggage in your dormitories, I have arranged for them to be collected. My compliments to whichever of you enchanted your parchment, very impressive indeed. Albus Dumbledore.

Harry then remembered that, as he would be leaving tomorrow morning, he needed to give Ron and Hermione their Christmas presents before he left. Having not wrapped them, he figured that a little simple conjuring could not hurt that much, so he waved his wand over the gifts, and they were instantly concealed in beautiful wrapping paper depicting very cosy Christmas images. Smiling, he scooped them up and ran back downstairs, eager to enjoy his last few hours he could spend with Ron and Hermione that year.

Both of them were extremely pleased with their presents. Ron had been rather overwhelmed when he had unwrapped his Cannons strip, and had immediately run off upstairs to the dormitory with it. Hermione laughed, then Harry presented her with her gift. She was very impressed with it, as not only did it shrink all of the books down to fit in a tiny space, it made them all weightless too, so she would not have to heave seemingly tons and tons of books around school, as she still took more subjects than most other people, even though she didn't require her Time Turner in order to attend all of her lessons. Smiling, she leaned over and kissed Harry on his cheek, just as Ron came charging out of the bottom of the stairs from the dormitory.

"Oy, Harry - don't be stealing my girl!!" he called, as he ran across the room dressed from head to toe in orange - he was also wearing the hat Harry had bought him several Christmases ago which, surprisingly, still fitted him. Harry and Hermione laughed endlessly at Ron as he ran about with one arm stretched out in front of him. Eventually, glowing red from exhaustion and embarrassment, Ron sat down again, between Harry and Hermione, putting an arm around each of them.

"My two favourite people," he announced, sitting back and pulling them both back with him. Harry knew that the parade had been Ron's way of showing Harry how much he liked his present. Ron was always very shy about expressing his emotions.

"Oh!" said Ron, once he had caught his breath back, "hold on, Harry." Ron turned to look at Hermione, who nodded. With that, Ron charged off again, arousing another loud cheer from the Cannons' supporters across the Common Room. In about a minute he was back, with a large, merrily wrapped present.

"Merry Christmas!," said Ron happily, as the present landed in Harry's lap. "From Hermione and me," he added, sitting down next to her and placing his arm around Hermione's neck. They both smiled at they watched Harry opening his gift. He tore at the paper for a few seconds, then out fell a large, leather-bound book with beautifully gilt pages. The gold lettering on the front of the book pronounced its title: Avantgarde Conjuring - A Sorcerer's Guide, by Merlin Beck.

"I haven't managed to get it open yet, Harry," Hermione admitted, "I've tried every spell I could think of to get it open, but I guess you'll have to try yourself."

"Hermione thought it'd be educational for you or something, Harry, which isn't the point of Christmas, is it? So I got you these too," said Ron, handing Harry a smaller parcel. Harry opened this too, and found a large bag of Fred and George's very best, prototype firecrackers. Grinning, Harry looked up at Ron and thanked him.

"Only thing is though, there's terms and conditions attached," Ron mentioned, "you have to write to Fred and George to tell them how they are."

"No problem, Ron," chuckled Harry, arranging the book and the firecrackers on the seat next to him.

"Wait," said Hermione, who had seen that Harry was about to carry all his things upstairs. "In order to prove Ron wrong, because he thinks I'm still too boring to do Christmas properly, I got you each something." She presented Ron and Harry with identical parcels, then sat back. "Open them, then!" she pressed.

The two boys, looking at each other, ripped open the paper on Hermione's parcels, and both let out exclaims of delight at what they found. Hermione had bought each of them a large Official Chocolate Frog Card Organizer, which consisted of lots of pages of magical pockets, one for each Frog card. The great part was that every time a new card was released, the folder added a page for each new card. The boys were very impressed.

"You know, I don't actually remember saying that you were too boring for Christmas," he joked Hermione.

"I think this is possibly the first time that Ron has ever been pleased that you've proven him wrong!!" Harry added. Hermione smiled at Harry's sentiment, then Ron tried to kiss her. Laughing, Harry picked himself and his presents up, and turned to leave the common room, to pack his things for the next day's journey.

"See you, guys," said Harry, before he went upstairs, "I guess I'll not see you in the morning."

"You'll see us at breakfast," Ron told Harry, "we've decided to get up quite early, haven't we?" he turned to Hermione for corroboration.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, briefly, looking at Ron warningly. Seeing Harry's questioning look at Hermione's expression, Ron took the liberty of explaining to Harry what Hermione was on about.

"Then we're going to take advantage of the fact that Hermione's is the only person in her dormitory who's staying for Christmas, if you know what I mean," he said.

"I don't want to know," said Harry, trying not to laugh at the expression on Hermione's face. "See you in the morning, then."

Harry hardly slept that night. He was too excited by the prospect of having Draco entirely to himself for the next two weeks, but at the same time, worried about how the Dursleys would react to having wizards in their midst. He was sure that none of them would stand for it, though he was equally sure that he and Draco could have a lot of fun with Dudley. Though Dudley was bigger, probably, than Draco and Harry combined, Harry was sure that they would have no trouble at all from him, as Dudley was terrified of magic. He eventually fell asleep smiling, and looking forward to the next two weeks.

The following morning, breakfast was chaotic. There were people all over saying goodbye to friends, and running upstairs to fetch Christmas presents they'd forgotten to distribute before heading home for the holidays. Students who were staying on for Christmas, generally, slept in and breakfasted late on this day every year, to avoid the clamour. As promised however, Ron and Hermione were present, though Harry was given the distinct impression, judging from the redness of their eyes, that he hadn't been followed that closely to bed the previous night. The late evening was the preserve of the lovebirds in the Gryffindor common room, territory into which Harry was yet to step. Harry was just on the point of forgetting that he had a train to catch when he saw Draco leaving the hall, glancing in his direction several times. Harry didn't have to disengage from Ron and Hermione in any way to reply, of course, though Draco did nod his acknowledgement that Harry would be there in five minutes. Neither of them, still, had quite gotten used to telepathy as a means of communication, though its potential merits were becoming very clear, especially in terms of keeping their relationship secret from the rest of the school. If anyone was ever to see the pair of them speaking civilly it would be all over school in five minutes flat, even without telepathy, because it was something that just never happened.

Hermione produced a pile of food boxes, and started putting food into them for Harry for his journey.

"You can't live off Chocolate Frogs all the way back to London, Harry," she said as she filled the boxes and sealed them so that they would stay warm and wouldn't leak.

"Thanks, Hermione," said Harry, and meant it - he didn't plan to eat it on the train at all, but if Aunt Petunia decided to starve him, as she had done in the past, he planned to use them to stay alive over the two weeks' Christmas holiday.

Harry stood up, and gathered the boxes Hermione had filled for him. Ron and Hermione also stood up, looking a little upset that he was leaving.

"I'll see you in two weeks - it's not that long," he promised them, even while feeling that it would seem a lot longer than it sounded, though they would all have other distractions. Hermione hugged Harry, and they kissed each other on the cheek, then there was an uncomfortable moment as Ron and Harry didn't know what to do. They settled on a high-five, then as Harry bade them farewell and left with his boxes of food, Ron clapped him on the back, saying "See you, mate."

Harry turned and tried to wave whilst balancing the boxes on one hand, and almost failing, drawing a short laugh from Ron and Hermione and a few others who were watching Harry leave.

Harry was halfway out of the dormitory when he realised that Draco had never had to dress and a Muggle before. Shit, he thought as he dug right to the bottom of his trunk and produced a spare pair of jeans, a T shirt and a jumper for his boyfriend to wear in Privet Drive. Harry spared a moment to think about how Draco would react to having to stoop so low, though perhaps his attitude towards Muggles wasn't as extremist, in reality, as he had always made it seem around his Slytherin peers. Five minutes later, with Draco's change of clothes in his rucksack along with the rest of the stuff that he thought he might need over the holidays, which included Fred and George's firecrackers, Harry arrived outside the gargoyle outside Dumbledore's office, for the second time in as many days, to find Draco sitting with his back against the wall opposite, shouting names of sweets at it, in an attempt to get it to open. Draco's attempts included a couple of valiant attempts at mimicking what he thought might be the names of Muggle sweets, but to no avail. Harry gave him a questioning look as he approached.

"Password's changed," Draco announced.

"Oh," said Harry, who then swung his bag off his back and dug out the Marauder's Map to find out what the new password was. After a few seconds waiting for the speech bubble to appear next to the gargoyle on the map, Harry laughed softly.

"It hasn't changed at all," he spluttered, "it would appear that you just can't say it properly." Draco looked a little affronted at this, and a pink tinge came over his white face.

"Go on," said Harry, "try and say it. This ought to be good!!" While Harry grinned at him, Draco attempted to utter the password.

"Liquorshticks," said Draco, trying his best to ignore Harry, to the gargoyle, which remained completely still. Harry's laughing redoubled for a moment, then he explained that 'liquorice sticks' was two words.

"You ought to be OK with it," Harry said, "you can say Liquorice Wand OK, can't you?"

"Yea," said Draco, openly embarrassed, "but you can never tell with Muggles!" Harry laughed appreciatively, then demonstrated how to say the password correctly.

As they reached the top of the stairs, the door to Dumbledore's office swung open. Dumbledore was inside, tracing out the shape of a doorway on what was pretty much the only piece of wall that was not adorned with some portrait or other. A wooden door appeared in the door before Dumbledore turned around and welcomed them to his office.

"Morning," he said, cheerily.

"Morning, Professor," they both chanted in reply.

"Well, I have to say that wasn't voiced yesterday so, if you've no further questions, I see no reason to delay your departure any further." Harry and Draco looked at each other, neither of them having thought of any other questions for Dumbledore over the last twelve hours. Seeing this, Dumbledore turned back round and opened the door. Behind the door was a candlelit, wood-panelled corridor.

"Just walk through the doorway and follow the corridor, boys. It will take you straight to your compartment. Merry Christmas," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Merry Christmas, sir," they each said as they stepped across the threshold.

Following the corridor was not a problem, as the instant each of the boys stepped through the portal they were sucked down it, and deposited in large armchairs, much more comfortable than the usual Hogwarts Express fare, which was not altogether unacceptable in itself. Settling into their new surroundings, both of them found that their luggage had been efficiently stowed in the racking by the doorway. There were also, on a small coffee table, a couple of pitchers of pumpkin juice, and a wide range of wizards' confectionary. Harry also found a packet of liquorice sticks, which set him off laughing again as he tossed them over to Draco, who threw them back rather hard. The whole compartment was arranged like a comfortable living room, with large, comfortable armchairs, and cosy, wood-panelled walls. There was also a large, ornate chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling which, Harry noticed, stayed perfectly still regardless of the motion of the train.

About halfway through the journey to King's Cross, Harry remembered that they would have to change before they got to Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters, because otherwise the porter would not allow them passage through the wall into the Muggle station beyond. Having arrived at the platform by Floo powder every time he had travelled through, Draco was unfamiliar with the process. Having assured him it was painless, Harry then set about the task of convincing his boyfriend to wear the jeans and T shirt he had brought. When Draco eventually presented himself, in the Muggle clothes, to Harry, he was not impressed. Usually seen either in his school robes, or else swathed in silk or velvet, Draco complained that the material of the jeans was too hard, and complained for a good fifteen minutes about how stupid Muggles must be to settle for such harsh garments.

"I'll show your family real clothes," he promised Harry.

The only way that Harry could get Draco to wear the jeans was by promising him that he would only have to wear them through that station and on the way back to the Dursley's house. Then, he said, Draco could wear whatever he liked, if he felt he could take the inevitable stick he would get from the Dursleys for doing so. Then Harry had to play-fight Draco into wearing the jumper, which only culminated in copious amounts of kissing. Giving up, Harry settled down next to Draco on one of the armchairs, both of them squashed in, but neither complaining about the lack of space or proximity to one another. They sat like that, eating the sweets that had been laid out, and kissing periodically, until the train pulled into King's Cross station in London.

As the train stopped, Harry stood up and went to pick up his trunk. He took the handle and tugged on it. The trunk almost hit the ceiling as Harry discovered that whoever had loaded it onto the train had bewitched it to make it feather-light. Draco, who was struggling to stand on his dead leg that Harry had been sat on for the past couple of hours, laughed as Harry dodged the trunk before it landed on top of him. They were then presented with the problem of how to get out. Unlike every compartment that either of them had ever travelled in on the Hogwarts Express, this one did not have a sliding door at one end for them to leave through. In fact, as Harry looked, there was no doorway at all - all four walls were entirely wood-panelled. Then, they both noticed a space, like that in Dumbledore's office, where there were no pictures or wall hangings. In this space, as they watched, appeared a silver coloured, metal door. Harry took hold of the door-handle and opened the door, revealing a cream leather-lined wall, and a light carpet floor. Realising what he had to do, he took hold of his trunk and stepped through, moments later finding himself sat in the back of Uncle Vernon's new company car, with identical carpet and leather to the interior of the tunnel. His trunk, he noticed, had vanished from his hand. Moments later, Draco appeared in the seat next to him, and the car squatted slightly as Draco's trunk landed, weight fully restored, in the boot of the car.

Looking forward, Harry noticed that Uncle Vernon was not sat in the driver's seat. Aunt Petunia had made perhaps her first solo road-trip since she had married Vernon Dursley. At that moment, Petunia turned around to look at Harry, who was utterly stunned to find that she looked pleased to see him.

"Hello, Harry, my darling," she cooed, exhibiting such a change in personality since the previous autumn that Harry was lost for words. She turned around further, so that she could look at Draco, who was sitting in the seat directly behind the driver's.

"And you must be Draco," she continued, "lovely to meet you." Turning back, she smiled widely at Harry, before setting off. There was silence in the car for much of the journey, the boys preferring to communicate non-verbally, as was their wont, and Aunt Petunia concentrating on not getting lost on the route back to Surrey.

I thought the Muggles were insufferably unkind, not sickly sweet, Draco told Harry.

They are, usually, I don't know what's going on. She's probably got some horrible 'surprise' planned for us later.

I like surprises!!

Harry was very wary of Aunt Petunia's strange mood for the whole journey, and made sure that his wand was within easy reach as they finally pulled up to the house at Number Four, Privet Drive.

"We're back," called Aunt Petunia gaily, in to what sounded like an entirely empty house. Draco looked around the walls, quietly inspecting his new surroundings, when they all heard a creak upstairs. Harry suspected, quite correctly, that the sound had been Dudley attempting to sneak around unheard, but his exceedingly amply proportions made it impossible for him to do so.

"Duddykins, Mummy's home," she called. Draco caught Harry's eye, and glanced at Dudley who had decided finally to come downstairs. Harry got the idea and grinned back.

"This is Draco," said Aunt Petunia, to Dudley. "He's Harry's friend, who will be joining us for Christmas, won't it be merry?" Draco, looking cold and impassive, much as he had before Harry had gotten to know him better, held out his hand, holding it dead still, not trembling even minutely, until Dudley shook it very briefly, before very quickly dropping it again. Aunt Petunia then ushered Draco into the kitchen and as Harry followed Dudley, he saw his fat cousin wiping his hand hard on the back of his trouser leg.

So far, Draco had not spoken since they had gotten off the train, and when he did open his mouth to ask Dudley to pass the sugar for the coffee which Aunt Petunia was dishing out, Dudley flinched visibly. Draco's voice was quiet, soft and direct, but polite.

"Could you pass the sugar, please, Dudley is it?"

Dudley nodded in a slightly panicked way, and thrust the sugar across the table to Draco, who accepted it graciously, nodding his appreciation to Dudley with one small inclination of his head. Then Aunt Petunia sat down.

"How long have you known Draco then, Harry," she asked, conversationally, "you haven't spoken about him at home before."

No, because you weren't interested, Harry though, causing Draco to cough slightly into his coffee, which made Dudley jump again.

"Since my first day," replied Harry, truthfully.

"So you're old friends now, then," she pressed.

"Yea, I guess," said Harry. Aunt Petunia was rocking on the front two legs of her chair, obviously with a burning question which she either did not know how to phrase, or was afraid to ask.

"Erm, Professor Dumbledore," she paused, questioning the name to Harry and Draco, who nodded together, "said that you're allowed to do magic at home, now," she said, meeting neither Harry's nor Draco's eyes, nor those of her son, who had reared on his chair in horror. Suddenly there was a loud crack as the two back legs of the chair broke, but in a flash Draco's wand was out, and Dudley was suspended exactly where he had been before the chair broke. He watched, frozen for an instant, as the chair fell to the floor beneath him, then screamed and ran from the room. Aunt Petunia, Harry and Draco all heard the front door slam, and knew that Dudley would most probably be gone for a while.

Aunt Petunia started applauding Draco, then ran around the table and hugged him.

"Thank you," she said, "the number of times Duddy has hurt himself falling off chairs like that!" Draco and Harry had to try very hard not to laugh.

"We'd better unpack before dinner," Harry suggested. Draco, murmuring his agreement, followed Harry up the stairs and into Harry's room. Harry ushered Draco into the room first, then shut and locked the door.

"Silencio," murmured Harry, waving his wand at the door, then at the window, thus soundproofing the room. The pair of them burst into almost uncontrollable laughter at Dudley's eminent terror of anything magical.

"I can't wait for dinner," said Draco, a little darkly.

The problem with Harry's room was that there was only one single bed in it, a problem which Harry rectified with a flick of his wand. On the opposite side of the room appeared an identical single, divan bed, in the space where Harry usually deposited his trunk. Draco came and stood next to him, surveying Harry's work.

"Hmm, I've a better idea," he said, "may I?"

"Of course," Harry replied, stepping aside.

Draco swung his wand theatrically. There was a loud crash as Harry's nightstand and desk were shoved across the room, into the space where the second bed had been, as Harry's original bed expanded rightwards, stretching into a full-sized double bed. Harry grinned - he'd been to shy to suggest that, but was pleased that Draco had. As a final touch, Draco flicked his wand at the new bed, and out sprouted four tall posts, complete with dark green hangings.

"Very nice," said Harry, "where are you going to sleep, then?"

Pretending that he was annoyed by Harry's comment Draco pushed him backwards onto the bed, advancing on him, wand raised. At the last second, he flung it aside, and leaned forward over Harry, resting on his outstretched arms which were either side of Harry's chest. Pushing Harry slightly further back onto the bed, and lying down right on top of him, Draco said, "well, sleeping right here seems the most attractive proposition!"

As they smiled at each other, Draco slid his arms underneath Harry's back, and rolled over, so Harry was on top, kissing him passionately. With his nose inches from Harry's Draco asked.

"Or do you prefer it this way up?"

As Harry lay on top of Draco, the pair of them separated only by their clothes, he could feel himself becoming powerfully aroused, and as it pressed into Draco's crotch, he could feel that it was happening to both of them. Harry drew a deep breath, and Draco pushed his head back into the pillows, closing his eyes and arching his back. Then Harry ran his hands up both sides of Draco's torso, underneath his T shirt, lifting it off over his head. Draco raised his arms so that Harry could pull the garment off. Harry stared lovingly, for a moment, at Draco's smooth, creamy, lightly muscled torso. His physique was beautiful, with toned, but not over-pronounced muscle. His arms, which were starting to work off Harry's T shirt, were strong, and similarly toned. His body was warm, though as Harry's shirt came off and their bodies met for the first time, there was an almost electric heat between them.

Harry tipped his head sideways, and slid down Draco's body a little, hugely enjoying the pleasure of the contact, and kissed Draco's neck, while he writhed with the pleasure. Harry's hand had made their way all the way back down Draco's body, and were working the fastenings of his jeans. When they were free, Harry pushed down Draco's boxer shorts and the jeans both at once, desperate for more. Draco started kissing Harry again, both of them slipping their tongues as deep as they could into each other's mouths - longing for as much contact as possible. Harry felt his own jeans being pushed down, then kicked them off. Draco rolled the pair of them over again and took control. Sinking back down on Harry, and sliding down his body at the same time, Draco took Harry's erection in his hands, working it passionately whilst tantalizing Harry's stomach with the tip of his tongue.

Harry almost could not stand the pleasure - Draco was driving him wild. He had to show him how much he loved him. He was breathing harder than ever.

"Draco," he panted, barely able to speak. Knowing what Harry wanted to do, Draco pulled himself back up to Harry's level, pulling on his shoulders. They lips and tongues met again. Draco turned over so that his back was towards Harry, his head turned right around so that their vital lip-contact was not broken before it needed to be. The pair of them were shaking with the anticipation. Draco broke off their kiss, and turned his head away, closing his eyes as Harry approached. Harry was working himself closer, stroking the sides of Draco's torso with his hands all the time. As his chest met Draco's back, both their minds felt like they were ready to explode with pleasure.

Draco's eyes widened at Harry came onto him. Draco was only aware of himself and Harry, as one entity, and nothing else mattered in the whole world. Draco moaned as he felt Harry inching inside him, until he felt Harry's pelvis against his lower back. Breathless, the pair of them paused for an instant before Harry began to gently pump their union. Both of them moaned much louder and much more ardently as they settled into each others' rhythm. Before Harry knew it, his climax was upon him. His body tensed, and both of them were almost blown away by the pulsating pleasure they both were experiencing. Harry fell limply onto his back as he withdrew, in the malaise that follows this kind of activity. He needed more of Draco, he felt, to continue living. Draco rolled back over to face Harry, his eyes alight with desire. Harry knew, again, what he wanted to do. He drew Draco closer to him, licking the side of his face, his nose, his lips, lightly with the tip of his tongue. Harry drew his tongue right down Draco's body, before Draco's head reared again as he felt a new pleasure, which he had dreamed about many times.

During his own dreams, Harry had never considered how he would breathe as deeply as he would need to, with his mouth full, but the pleasure he could feel Draco experiencing heightened his desire to the point where he felt so alive that he would happily have died. Draco could not control the movement of his pelvis, which was thrusting him deeper down Harry's throat. Draco ran his hands down his own body, revelling in the pleasure, before running his hands through Harry's hair and caressing his boyfriend's head deeper into his crotch. He began to moan again, the volume and the pleasure each in an exponential crescendo. Harry murmured his pleasure as he felt Draco's warmth pulsing into his mouth. Draco moaned louder than ever when he felt Harry's tongue and throat contract, as he swallowed. After enjoying a brief pause, Harry came back up and looked Draco straight in the eye. Draco leaned in a little, and licked a little bit of himself off Harry's lip. Then Harry saw the sides of Draco's eyes crease as he smiled, before leaning into kiss him again.

Harry rolled off Draco, and the pair of them stared at the canopy of the bed hangings, both smiling serenely. They held hands, and said not a word as they just enjoyed each other's company and thought about what they had done. It had been entirely beyond any dream or inclination that either of them had ever had, and they both knew it would get better with experience and time. Next second, they scrambled off the bed and began fervently pulling on clothes.

They had both heard the front door slam, which meant that Uncle Vernon was home from work. This meant that dinner would be on any second. Indeed, as Harry pulled on his pants and began to thrust his legs into his jeans, he heard someone mounting the stairs. Even though Harry knew he had locked the door, the fear of being caught made him move even faster to get dressed. Just as he pulled on a T shirt, the door handle rattled, then the door opened.

Still red in the face from his fight to get dressed for dinner, Harry stared at Aunt Petunia with an utterly flabbergasted expression on his face. She had just opened, with no trouble at all, a magically locked door, with no wand, no magical experience and no incantation. Aunt Petunia did not notice this.

"Dinner's on," she said, warmly, and noticing that Draco was now wearing a different shirt, she added, "there was no need to change for dinner, dear, you were perfectly presented anyway." She withdrew from the room and closed the door in her wake. Harry and Draco looked at each other and smiled nervously as they noticed that in their haste they had put back on each other's T shirts. Aunt Petunia's apparent immunity to locked doors added another new dimension too - they might actually get caught. The smiles on both their faces widened as they each saw the light of adventure twinkling in each others' eyes.

The following couple days until Christmas Eve passed quite quickly. Harry and Draco avoided the Dursleys as much as it was possible to, without leaving the house, as Dumbledore had made clear. They kept each other occupied for much of the day in Harry's room, venturing downstairs only at mealtimes, or when their conversation had come around to some piece of Muggle equipment that Draco wanted to know about. After they had finished wrapping presents for each other, and one each from the pair of them for the Dursleys, Harry and Draco were sitting watching TV on Christmas Eve. While Draco was trying to figure out how to change channel with the remote control, something tapped at the window. Harry jumped up and let in a very cold brown owl, which was followed by a flurry of snow from outside. It dumped its letter on Draco's lap, then looked around for a fire to warm itself up before. Seeing only the Dursley's electric fire, the owl glared at it for a moment, then settled before its warmth.

Draco was too busy mashing buttons on the TV remote to be bothered with mail, so when Harry sat back down next to him, he pushed the roll of parchment at Harry without removing his gaze from the set. Harry unfurled the parchment and read the message, which was from Hermione.

Dear Harry and Draco,

Ron and I just got owls from the Order - they want to see us both at HQ on Boxing Day. I can only imagine that you'll be asked there too. Do you see what I'm getting at? Ron! He doesn't know, and you're not going to see him before Boxing Day to let him know. Write back straight away and tell me what you want me to do - I think it would probably be better if I tell him, because if you hide Draco until you've told Ron, then wheel him out, it might be too much for him to handle. I think he'll probably be OK with it if we give him a chance to think about it before he sees you together.

Write back NOW!

Hermione

P.S. Merry Christmas, both of you! XX

"Damn," said Harry, quietly.

"What?" asked Draco, absently, then noting Harry's tone, be withdrew his stare from the television. Harry handed him the parchment. After he had finished reading it, Draco laid his hand on Harry's arm.

"You know what has to be done," he said, gently.

"Yea," said Harry, taking out his wand and conjuring parchment and a self-loading quill.

Hermione - OK, do it. Thanks, Us. X P.S. Merry Christmas to you too.