The Spirit of Death

By the time that the other Gryffindor boys came up to the dormitory Harry and Draco were still both very much awake, sharing their thoughts about what had just happened.

'Well I suppose it could have gone worse - they could have attacked us,' thought Draco.

'Who's to say they won't tomorrow? And what about Slytherin?' He seemed to have punched right so the centre of what Draco was worried about.

'Well we'll have to see, won't we - wands at breakfast, I think!'

There was a momentary lapse in their thoughts, as they both heard the dormitory door open. It didn't take them long to find out that it was Dean and Seamus who had entered. The obviously assumed that Draco and Harry's silence indicated that they were asleep, and didn't trouble to keep their voices down.

"Well both hangings are drawn, hopefully that means they're in different beds at least," came Dean's voice.

"Yeah," said Seamus' voice, "don't want them fucking in here while people are trying to sleep."

"Or any time for that matter." They chuckled. Harry was hurt - out of Dean and Seamus, who were good friends, Dean had been the one who has stuck up for him, at least a little, the previous year when Seamus had thought Harry insane. Now he had been the instigator of what happened downstairs, and was now taking the rise with no concern for whether Harry or Draco may be listening.

'Ignore them,' thought Draco.

'It's kind of hard when they're talking that loudly,' was Harry's reply, in as much of a snap as one can achieve in telepathic communication.

'After all those years of trying to make life hard for you - all that effort when all I had to do to get you properly mocked was go out with you. What a waste of four years!'

It worked - Harry's mind was successfully taken off whatever Dean and Seamus might be saying as the silent couple considered just what they might have spent the last four years doing, if not trying to outdo the other. At length, Harry was aware that the thoughts he was receiving from Draco were becoming slower and less coherent, and realised that Draco must be falling asleep. It was an odd sensation, as it had been a long time since they had been doing anything as passive as thinking to each other when they had fallen asleep. An active, silent conversation ending like that gave Harry the same sensation of peace he had felt when watching Draco fall asleep - his eyes gently drifting shut, only every time Harry had watched Draco fall asleep, Draco had snuggled up tight against Harry as if to stop people stealing him in the night. That had always made Harry's heart swell, feeling that someone desperately needed him, as opposed to just knowing it, due to magical prophecy. Harry finally fell asleep with these thoughts to comfort him somewhat.

The following morning both Harry and Draco woke early, their nerves jangling in nervous anticipation of what would happen today. If the reaction of the Gryffindors was anything to go by, they could not expect a particularly warm reception to their news from the rest of the school, particularly from Draco's old House, Slytherin. The last time Harry could never remember having a lump this large in his throat. Even a quick kiss from Draco before the other boys woke up did little to dislodge it, it merely pounded a little, making Harry feel as if his heart had actually moving into his throat, waiting for someone downstairs to rip it out and show everyone.

The boys showered separately, at Harry's insistence, though he did have a good look at Draco both when he came out of the shower dripping wet, and while he preened his hair in front of a very flattering mirror - "I haven't seen you before, dear," it said, "wouldn't mind seeing you again though! You look gorgeous." It chuckled gently as Draco smiled at it. He then flashed the smile over to Harry as he caught him watching.

"Its right, you know," said Harry, grinning back. Draco pretended to be embarrassed by Harry's comment by turning away and placing his hands between Harry and himself, feeling rather flattered. Draco watched as Harry made his usual, yet short, daily attempt to get the tuft of hair at the back of his head to sit flat. Harry had, over the years, tried just about everything that didn't involve Sleekeasy's Hair Potion, which he could never be bothered with. He felt as if his approach was a little slap-dash having just witnessed Draco's perfectionist's attention to detail in grooming himself.

Admitting defeat once again, Harry turned from the mirror, which was tutting, to Draco and grinned. Draco looked at Harry's hair and chuckled.

"It's a good job I like it like that," he said, still giggling a little, and led Harry from the room. Harry followed at a distance at which he could admire Draco walking. Harry found it amazing how Draco could make even boring black Hogwarts school robes look good and exciting. Perhaps it was the way he walked, or the way that his robes were perfectly creaseless from top to bottom, topped off with his sleeked back, white blond hair, and pointed features. Draco could possibly not be described as conventionally good-looking, but he undoubtedly looked good, his combination of strong, defined features, with an underlying fragility making for a package Harry, obviously, could not resist. He wondered what Draco saw in him, and then thought fairly that he was reasonably good looking, Parvati Patil at least had seemed rather taken aback, and rather pleased that Harry had asked her to the Yule Ball - she was after all one of the best-looking girls in Gryffindor, and had not had a date at the last stage at which Harry had asked her. He had come to like to think that Parvati had been waiting for him.

Not that it mattered at all now though - for one thing he had ignored her for the large part of the evening, preferring Ron's company, and combined with the revelations about Hagrid, and Ron's eminent annoyance at Hermione going to the ball with Viktor Krum.

He followed Draco back through the sixth year boys' dormitory and down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, which was still quite empty. There were a few dark shapes silhouetted in chairs around the edges of the room, but nobody approached them. Harry was uncomfortably aware that they were probably watching him, but did not care as he crossed the room with Draco, and took a seat beside him by the fire, which was still just glowing embers from the night before. Gradually the room filled again. Nobody approached them; they seemed to be deliberately leaving an exclusion zone around the two boys. Apart from the odd loud comment, almost everyone acted as if Harry and Draco weren't there. Harry was suddenly aware that Draco was planning to make a loud to everyone that if they came and sat in the multitude of spare seats in proximity to himself and Harry, that the would not 'catch gay', but Harry stopped him in time. Draco sulkily agreed not to say anything. After a few more minutes, his heart still in his throat and his hand on his wand, Harry led Draco through the crowd towards the portrait hole and they left the common room.

The previous night Harry and Draco had deliberated about making a grand, late entrance to the Great Hall for breakfast, so that everybody would see them all at once, and all the teachers would be present to protect them somewhat from any physically untoward response from their fellow students.

Reason had prevailed, however, as Harry had pointed out that they would have to walk past the Slytherin table to get to the Gryffindor one, and they were unlikely to make it if everyone had already heard and wanted to see them about it. It was, of course unlikely that they would make it back out of the room afterwards as well, but that was a risk they were going to have to take, as Draco pointed out bluntly that he was not going to do without food for any period of time, for anyone. Harry felt the same - he was ravenous, having not really eaten properly since lunchtime the previous day.

After they left the common room the two boys welcomed the utter silence of the corridors they chose to walk down. They took an extended route to the Great Hall, though were still careful to ensure that they didn't arrive too late. Their route took them well away from any of the House common rooms, so when the reached an empty corridor - the same empty corridor Draco had taken himself off to on the first day back - they stopped walking.

More accurately, Draco stopped them walking, by gently pushing Harry up against a wall. Harry smiled as he allowed Draco to manhandle him so that his back was against the wall, and opened his mouth slightly to receive Draco's long tongue as he approached. Through the anguish they were both feeling, the touch was the only constant, apart from the constant jeering. Harry and Draco melted into each other, revelling in the pleasure of each other's touch. Draco's hands worked at Harry's sides, caressing his torso, before moving up around Harry's neck to his head, so that Draco could hold him close and prolong their kiss. Harry was numbly thinking that Draco was exquisite in every detail, when he realised that Draco was moaning quietly, yet very contentedly, at his own hands. Harry was aware of one of his hands splayed across Draco's back, holding their bodies close together, and the other tousling Draco's hair. After admiring Draco minutes ago in the bathroom, he had completely forgotten about not creasing Draco's robes and the effort he always put into perfecting his hair, as had Draco. All that mattered in those few, precious moments was that they were together as one.

They finally, unwillingly, broke apart - lips pursed and tongues outstretched as each sought to allow the contact to last for as long as possible. Harry tenderly licked his own lips now, savouring any last taste of Draco. Draco smiled at him contentedly, the beautiful turn-down at the end of his lips, which Harry adored, curling elegantly upwards in a dashing grin. Harry shifted his gaze from Draco's soft, smooth lips to his eyes, those bottomless grey eyes which Harry felt he would happily drown in. Draco held Harry's gaze while he slipped one of his small, yet quite long-fingered, pale hands into his robes to retrieve his wand. He held it as arm's length and trained the tip of it towards his head as far as he could. He breathed an incantation, not wanting particularly to disturb the calm that had fallen between himself and Harry, and his hair sleeked itself smartly back into its usual, impeccable style. Another breath and his robes decreased entirely and hung richly and flowingly from his shoulders, running a shapely inward curve down to the floor, where the hem flared slightly. Harry thought he looked gorgeous anyway, but admired the suaveness with which Draco presented himself, and the ease with which he did so. He then turned his wand on Harry, and the tuft of hair that Harry had had forever flattened down perfectly, and his own robes looked freshly ironed, though in Harry's own opinion he didn't think he probably looked half as good as Draco.

They smiled to each other again, before Draco regally extended his hand to Harry to escort him as far as they dared to the Great Hall, before they would walk together but with no contact into breakfast. Even holding hands produced an electric tingle for Harry, starting in his hand before working up his arm and into his neck, making the hair on his neck stand up. He was sure that if they held on too long the untidy part of his hair on the crown of his head would spring back up again, but he did not care in the slightest.

They released each others hands at the top of a flight of stairs two floors above the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall, but figured that this was probably as far as they could safely go holding hands.

"Of course, after breakfast we'll be able to hold hands as much as we like, because everyone will be on at us anyway, most probably," he said, though Harry had tensed up again and did not appreciate the humour. Draco did not laugh either, and Harry decided that his was probably Draco's way of dealing with nervousness. Harry grabbed his hand and squeezed it one more time for moral support before they plunged down the final flight of marble steps into the Entrance Hall - which was empty. Taking several deeps breaths each, they pushed the door open and entered the hall.

The instant silence that fell indicated immediately to Harry that Cho Chang, probably with help from a number of Gryffindors, had done an immensely effective job of telling pretty much everyone about Harry and Draco. Harry felt his face burning as hundreds upon hundreds of pairs of eyes were fixed on himself and Draco as they walked determinedly across the hall to the Gryffindor table. Harry became aware, as Draco thought it, that Draco was not used to this much attention. He had always sought attention, but had only ever really received it from his gang of Slytherins, rather than the entire school at once. Even the teachers were looking at them, some apprehensively, some interestedly, and some calmly, and some tensely. Harry could tell that Professor McGonagall was just looking to hand out some Slytherin detentions. Dumbledore watched the two of them cross the Hall with his fingers steepled and his lips pursed slightly.

After an eternity Harry and Draco had made it to the Gryffindor table, and sat on the benches opposite Hermione, which meant that though they were against the far wall of the Hall they were looking into it, so could still see in their peripheral vision, as they focused hard on their empty plates, that almost everyone was still craning in their direction. There was a general murmur in the hall. Harry wondered remotely whether everyone would be so interested if it had been anybody else, because not only had Harry and Draco been in different Houses that hated each other anyway, but they had been arch-rivals since their very first day at school. He also noted with a tingle of flattery that lots of girls seemed to be interested in himself and Draco, especially Cho Chang, whom he saw was looking at him whenever he looked in her direction, all breakfast.

On their way back out of the hall the two of them received some very unpleasant threats from the Slytherins who were still at breakfast, and Harry saw Pansy Parkinson talking to her gang of girls apparently convinced that she'd known about Draco's 'problem', as she put it, for as long as she had known him, and had pretended to be friendly with him to try to 'help him back to normal'. Harry thought grimly that he could believe the part about pretending to be Draco's friend, when he heard one of the girls reply that she thought it was cool that Pansy had had a gay best friend, at which point she changed tack entirely and started talking about all the conversations she had apparently had with Draco about guys, and fashion, and makeup, amongst other things.

The Slytherin Quidditch team were all glaring at Draco - the only member of their team who was actually any good had left them, leaving them not standing much of a chance in the House Cup any more, especially if he was to start playing against them. It was not a stony glare he received however; there was a lot of knuckle-cracking going on, and Crabbe and Goyle were threatening to pulverize Draco with Bludgers in their capacity as Beaters. Draco thought, to Harry, that that was not any particular threat as both their aims was so poor, but Harry could tell that Draco did not appreciate the sentiments. Even at the end of the staff table Snape was glaring at him, though Snape glared at everything anyway, so that was no particular indication of any additional displeasure than that which Snape held for anything that was not himself.

The murmuring and attention became very tiresome though, and throughout the day Draco and Harry were trying their best to ignore the situation. They spent the large part of the day consoling each other. As Draco was now taking lessons with the Gryffindors they spent the large part of the day together, apart from when Harry had Divination and Draco had Arithmancy. Due to clashes between Divination and Arithmancy in the Gryffindor timetable, Draco had had to drop Divination, and despite what he had said to Harry about it previously, he wasn't that cut up about it. Draco had joined Hermione's group for the subject, and seemed to enjoy the experience of being able to get to know how she worked, from a standpoint which didn't require him to deride her for her heritage for the benefit of his peers. Hermione mentioned to Harry quietly at dinner how impressed she had been with Draco's attitude since they had returned from Privet Drive, and for some reason Harry felt proud of Draco. He supposed it was because Draco seemed to be making an effort, either specifically for Harry or because he actually had the opportunity of getting to know them properly now, to get along with Ron and Hermione.

Back in the Gryffindor common room that evening the atmosphere had returned almost to normal, as people returned to their work, and began to pay a little less attention to Harry and Draco, the boys found that it was a little easier to concentrate on their work, though it was true to say that not a lot of people had a lot to say to them. Dean and Seamus were sitting in Harry's favourite place by the fire, and Harry was slightly upset to see that Ron had decided to join them. He did not like the look on the part of Seamus' face that he could see, or the fact that at several times during the evening he had been aware of Dean turning to look in his direction, then start shaking and turn back to his group again. He was sure that he and Draco were a great source of entertainment for them at the moment.

Hermione, for the first time in a while, was not sat entwined with Ron. They had entered the common room together after dinner but, when Ron had headed over to the fire where Dean and Seamus had already been sitting, Hermione had remained with Draco and Harry, who had chosen to sit in a corner out of peoples' way.

Neville had come over to them for a brief spell, but had not sat down and had quickly headed off to sit alone with Trevor, casting furtive glances across the room, to struggle through his Potions work. Harry realised that since Ginny had returned after the holidays, she had not spoken to Harry; in fact he had not really seen her at all. This was unusual, as Ginny liked to have girly chats with Hermione. Harry looked around the room for her, and saw her sitting with a group of girls from her own year. He was surprised to see that she had obviously been staring in his direction, but not as surprised as she was to see Harry looking in hers. She quickly dropped her gaze back down to her work. Even across the room Harry could see her face and the tips of her ears reddening.

Harry and Draco again retired to bed before most other people, especially the other occupants of their dormitory. Again they both lay there, each alone in their beds, thinking about the day that had passed. Again, both were wide awake though hidden behind their hangings when the other boys came to bed. Neville came up first, still alone, and quietly turned in. Then Ron, Dean and Seamus turned up about half an hour later after Neville had fallen asleep (it had been his snores that had identified him to Harry).

Dean, Seamus and Ron were still talking about Harry and Draco.

"I hope they haven't been at it tonight," Dean said, reusing his joke from the previous night. It went down just as well as it had the first time, though Harry was mortified to hear Ron's gruff laugh intermingled with Dean's and Seamus' guffawing. He began to feel numb and tuned out to what the three boys were saying as they continued their snide joking. He heard thoughts from Draco in his head, but he could not respond. A rage like that he had felt when Ron had accused him of getting his own name into the Goblet of Fire was coursing through him. He was so angry he wanted to cry, and pummel everything he could reach into a million pieces. He grabbed his pillow and stuffed a corner of it into his mouth to prevent himself from making any sound, biting into it hard, angry tears leaking from the corners of his eyes onto the pillowcase. Then he heard Draco's voice.

"For a group of such staunch homophobes, you seem to be irresistibly interested in Harry's and my relationship. One could be mistaken in thinking you're all jealous, talking behind our backs," he called, harshly through the hangings.

If he had expected to get away with this, thought that the three boys would be taken aback and abashed by what he had said, Draco was wrong. Harry's feelings of hurt were immediately replaced entirely by angry, joining that considerable amount of anger he was already feeling.

He could barely hear Ron, Dean and Seamus crossing the room and tearing down Draco's hangings, Draco's futile attempts to reach his wand in time, Draco's anguished cries of fright and pain, over the blood roaring in his ears. He snatched his wand out from under his pillow and tore back the hangings of his bed. He was dismayed to see Dean and Seamus pinning Draco's arms down, keeping the boy stationery, while his legs thrashed wildly, and he bucked and arched his back in an attempt to shift them.

"Oooh," said Dean nastily, "we like that, don't we. Is that what Harry does for us?"

Harry took a split second to take in the scene: Draco looking frightened out of his mind - outnumbered and defenceless against three angry boys with wands; Dean and Seamus restraining Draco painfully, jeering nastily at him; and Ron looking torn between savage pleasure at seeing Draco, whom he had long hated receiving some kind of comeuppance, and aghast at the nature of his friends.

Dean was laughing harshly so that he loosened his grip on Draco's right upper-arm slightly. In a wrench of effort and power disproportionate to his thin, lightly-muscled body, Draco snatched his arm out from Dean's grasp, but the other boy slammed his grip back down on Draco's hand, causing him to whimper slightly as his fingers were becoming crushed.

Dean was working his wand, obviously about to hex or worse, curse, Draco.

As Harry's face contorted and he raised his wand, Ron caught sight of him and his expression changed to one of fear.

"Expelliarmus," he bellowed, his voice torn with rage. The power of Harry's emotion launched Dean, who was the far side of Draco's bed to Harry, against the wall, and Seamus' wand was blasted from his hand also. Draco ducked the spell by scrunching into the mattress, and seized the opportunity to free himself finally from the boys' restraint. Seamus scrabbled over the bed for Dean's dropped wand and whirled, but Harry was ready for him.

"Stupify," he bellowed, in the same awful voice. He stood over the prone bodies of his two fellow Gryffindors. He then turned his gaze to Ron, the same expression of awesome anger on his face. Ron retreated slowly to the door, breaking into a run as he reached the top of the stairs.

He lowered his wand and looked back at Draco, curled up at the bottom of his bed. He was staring up at Harry, a look of terror still plain upon his face.