Golden Thread Of Trust

Golden Thread Of Trust

Chapter 12: Confirming And Conspiring

Harry made his way from breakfast with a huge smile on his face. Ron and Hermione had pestered him with questions about what happened last night, but he had only told them that he and Draco were friends again. Draco had given him a smile from his place at the Slytherin table, and Harry had felt relieved; he had secretly feared that Draco had changed his mind… His thoughts were interrupted when strong hands pulled him into a side-corridor. He felt arms encircling his waist, and a voice purred "Hello, Harry," very close to his ear
"Draco…"
Their lips met in a passionate kiss, and Harry had become oblivious to his surroundings before they broke off. Draco looked at Harry.
"How am I supposed to act?"
"Act?"
Harry was still kind of dizzy, but Draco was prepared to forgive him.
"Have you told your friends about us?"
"No…" said Harry uncomfortably. "I haven't exactly come out to them yet."
"So you want to keep it a secret?" Draco asked.
"If you don't mind very much?"
"No, it's all right. I understand."
"I'll tell them as soon as the opportunity presents itself, I promise," said Harry and kissed Draco on the cheek. Promising to meet each other later in the Entrance Hall, they hurried to fetch their cloaks. In the Gryffindor common room, Harry met Ron and Hermione.
"Hey, Harry! Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade?" Ron asked.
"Sorry, but I promised Draco I would go with him," said Harry apologetically.
"Of course," said Hermione and smiled. "You will have a lot to catch up on."
Harry quietly agreed.

It was snowing when they got outside. It was the soft kind of snow that muffled all sound, and landed like big, fluffy flakes on the hoods of their cloaks.
"Do you know how much I like this kind of snow?" said Draco happily and turned his face upwards.
"Do you know how much I want to kiss you when you do that?" Harry asked longingly.
"No you don't. My nose is cold."
"I think I could bear that," said Harry bravely.
They laughed and continued to walk along the path leading to Hogsmeade.

When they arrived their cheeks were stinging from the cold, and they decided to have a butterbeer at Three Broomsticks to warm themselves.
The small inn was crowded, but they managed to find an unoccupied table by a window. The other tables were full of students and teachers who also were escaping the cold outside and talking merrily among themselves, already feeling the atmosphere of Christmas. Harry and Draco were no exception. Since they had decided to keep their relationship secret for the moment, they had to act like they were only friends, but when their hands brushed under the table, out of sight, Draco almost shyly seized Harry's hand and entwined his fingers with Harry's. They talked about the things that happened in the weeks they were apart, and soon they started to discuss more serious things. Harry told Draco of his only prediction in Divination that came true, ever. That brought them to talk about the accident, and Harry told Draco that he'd met Blaise Zabini in the corridor right after it happened.
"I suspected him, too," said Draco grimly.
"Have you thought about why he would do that?" asked Harry.
"Well, he tried to injure me, of course!"
"It's not that simple. First, he almost lands you with a life sentence in Azkaban, and then he tries to kill you. Why would anyone do that? It's not just out of cruelty, I am quite sure of that. He must have some kind of reason! Some kind of motive."
"Yes," said Draco thoughtfully. "I always assumed that the first attack was aimed for you, but when you put it that way…"
"Why would he hate you so much?" asked Harry.
"I don't know, Harry. I really don't know," said Draco and sighed.
"You have me now," said Harry reassuringly. "I won't let him harm you."
Draco smiled warmly at him.

Hermione stopped in the doorway, watching the two boys from a distance. She saw their serious air dissipate, and caught the look of complete adoration on Draco's face. She also noticed that Harry used his left hand to drink from his mug of butterbeer, and she wondered why, since he was right-handed. Then she noticed how close to each other they sat, and that Draco's hand had disappeared mysteriously under the table as well, and she smiled. How sweet. Anyway, honeymoon was over, because she needed company.
"Hi guys," she said as she sat down at their table.
"Hi Hermione! Where's Ron gone off to?"
"He's buying a Christmas present for me," she said smugly. "So, what are your plans for today?"
Harry blushed a little, because Draco was doing some very suggestive things to the fingers of his right hand.
"Don't know yet. Do you want to go back to the school, Draco?"
"Unless you want to buy gifts?"
"No," said Harry breathlessly, "it can wait. I mean, there's three weeks left, right?"
"Right," said Hermione and rolled her eyes. Harry would always be Harry. Always doing things at the last minute.
Draco and Harry waited patiently until Ron appeared, and when he finally did they shot up from their seats and said goodbye to Hermione and the startled Ron. He stared at them as they practically ran off.
"They seemed to be in a hurry," he commented.
Hermione giggled.
"Aren't they cute?"
"Cute?" asked Ron and raised his eyebrows.
"They were holding hands under the table!"
Ron snorted.
"And now they're probably off snogging somewhere," he added. "When do you think he's planning on telling us."
"Oh… knowing Harry, he'll probably fret over this a couple of weeks before he comes round."

Meanwhile, Draco and Harry had returned to the school, namely Harry's dormitory, and were engaged in a heated kiss. Tongues were battling fiercely for power, hands exploring bodies, entangled in darkest black and silver-blond hair, limbs entwining. They reached Harry's bed, and Harry pushed Draco down onto it and landed on top of his boyfriend. He stayed there, just watching Draco's amazing eyes gazing back at him, his fine hair spilling out over the pillow. Harry felt a pang of love towards the gorgeous Slytherin.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered.
"So are you," answered Draco, and kissed him tenderly. He removed Harry's glasses and put them on the bedside table. He proceeded to place small kisses all over Harry's face, the brow, the eyelids, the cheeks, the jawbone, and when he finally reached the mouth Harry attacked his lips with a fierceness that surprised them both. Harry could feel Draco's lithe body under his, and what he could feel only made him want to rip off Draco's robes so he could feel more. He found himself very aroused by this, and he could clearly feel that Draco was, too. Draco's hands were travelling across Harry's back, pulling him closer, making Harry's skin tingle and his body ache for more. Draco's hands were now resting on Harry's hips, and Harry bucked his hips experimentally, grinding his hard-on into Draco's. He gasped at the sensation, and was thrilled by the soft moan that escaped Draco's lips. He felt how Draco tensed, and suddenly, Harry had no idea how it happened, he was on top of Harry, and it was Harry's turn to moan as his senses were overwhelmed by Draco's ministrations. Draco was licking and sucking on Harry's neck, pinning his thrashing body down with his own. Harry's hands were exploring Draco's shoulders, his back, his slender waist and hips, very fine arse and muscular thighs, and were wandering up to the buttons of Draco's robe, when Draco suddenly tensed.
"Someone's coming," he whispered against Harry's lips, and backed away to a sitting position. Indeed, Harry could hear someone ascending the stars, and he recognised a voice as Ron's. He sat up, put on his glasses and tried to slow his breathing down. Ron and Hermione entered, looking curious.
"What are you doing?" asked Hermione.
"Nothing," Harry replied, thankful for the loose-fitting school robes that hid the evidence of the contrary.
"We were just talking," explained Draco.
Harry marvelled at his calm composure, nothing seemed to set him off-balance. Hermione nodded, and waited while Ron put his purchases in his trunk.
"Are you two coming down to lunch?" asked Ron.
"Yeah," said Harry. "In a minute."
"Okay," said Ron, and he and Hermione left.
Harry looked at Draco.
"Shall we go down?"
"You do so. I have to go back to my dorm, I've got a problem that I need to attend to," Draco growled.
Harry snickered.

Blaise was triumphant. He was careful not to let it show, though. He had finally conceived a plan that would get rid of Draco Malfoy, where the other plans had failed. He hadn't counted on Harry Potter and his saviour complex the other times, but this time both of them would go down. This time, nothing could go wrong. He had until Christmas holidays to work on the details. Two weeks were enough to brew the potion and find a way to make sure Malfoy and Potter ingested it. It was a very complex potion that really tried his potion-making skills, and sometimes Blaise wondered why he bothered about it all. Then he remembered, and the hatred came back with a vengeance. Blaise was a true Slytherin; to call him ambitious would be an understatement. He craved power more than anything in life, but unfortunately his status among the Slytherins was low because of his tainted blood. His grandmother had been a muggle, and that was enough for the other Slytherins to look down on him, and the Death Eaters to deny him access to any Dark Arts training. Blaise couldn't see the logic of it. The Dark Arts were only means to achieve power, why did Dark Wizards necessarily have to walk around slaughtering Mudbloods? It was terribly frustrating, and Draco Malfoy embodied everything Blaise detested. He was the rich, spoilt son of a prominent Death Eater and was born with access to all that Blaise desired; power, status, and a good Dark Arts education. And what did he do with it? He threw it all away and joined the other side! His treachery and the deaths of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy was a stab in the back of the Death Eater movement, and perhaps Dumbledore's side wouldn't have won the war if Voldemort's ranks hadn't been so weakened at the time. Blaise was seething with anger. Every time he saw Malfoy, he had an urge to strangle him with his bare hands, but that wouldn't do. No, this way was sufficient, the traitor would have no chance to escape, and no one could trace the potion to Blaise. Finally, he wouldn't have to stand in the shadows.