Immortalitas Aestas

After Draco had run out of the room, Harry had sat for quite some time trying to make sense of what had just happened. He'd kissed a few people in his seventeen years. He'd kissed Hermione a couple of times over Christmas Break in fifth year before they'd both decided they were much better off as friends, and Cho Chang and Alicia Spinnet at the end of sixth, both at the Leaving Ball. He was therefore quite sure that it didn't usually result in one of the people fleeing the room.

In fact, he was sure it didn't.

After the confusion had come the anger. How dare Draco kiss him and run off! How dare he not explain himself! He was probably in his common room laughing at Harry with the other Slytherins. How dare he make Harry feel this way! How dare he not let Harry kiss him back!

He had thrown quite a few things across the lounge. He'd shattered Professor Lupin's snowglobe, promptly felt guilty about it, and then fixed it with Reparo. He managed to throw several books across the room before Hermione's voice had entered his head and chastised him for his mistreatment of important information. And he caused several vases and picture frames to explode, which of course he'd immediately fixed. And he'd done it all with wandless magic. The ability always seemed to appear when he was feeling an emotion strongly. At least he hadn't ended up on the rooftops, like he had when he was younger.

After the anger had come a realization.

Draco was not playing around with Harry's emotions.

Draco was not laughing at Harry with the other Slytherins.

Draco was scared. Scared that Harry wouldn't kiss him back. Scared that Harry didn't feel the same way. Scared that Harry would be the one to go back to his common room and laugh with his friends.

Calm, arrogant, self-centered Draco Malfoy was scared.

Of course, there was no reason for Draco to be scared. Harry wanted to kiss him. Harry wanted to be with him. Hell, Harry definitely felt the same way. The desire may have hit him suddenly, but it wasn't any less true, and if anything had been growing stronger every day since trying the Invincibility Potion.

He glanced at his watch. It was now midnight. Ron and Hermione would no doubt be wondering where he was.

He pulled himself off the sofa, running his fingers through his hair. He left the lounge and headed for Gryffindor Tower, keeping close to the shadows and listening for every noise. He did not feel like running into Filch or his cat tonight. The corridors were still ridiculously hot, even though the sun had gone down over five hours ago. A trickle of sweat dripped down the side of Harry's face, and he impatiently brushed it away.

He reached the entrance to the common room and greeted the sleepy Fat Lady.

"Password?" she asked, hiding a yawn behind her hand.

"Golden snitch," he answered, a smile on his face. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, dear," she said, swinging open.

Harry crawled through. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he was grabbed by Ginny.

"Where have you been?" she demanded. "I looked everywhere for you. Dean said you had a date."

Harry raised an eyebrow, allowing her to pull him away from the portrait hole. "A date?"

"Yes," she accused, jabbing her finger into his breastbone. "And it wasn't with me."

He moved her hand, rubbing at the spot she'd poked. "Ginny, I wasn't on a date."

"Oh," she said, full of charm once more. "I didn't think you were."

"Hmm," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. He stepped around her. "Look, Ginny, we need to talk."

"Oh?" she asked, batting her brown eyes in a way she most likely thought was flattering but Harry thought made her look like she was having a seizure.

"Yes," he responded, sitting on the sofa. "Sit, please." He indicated the spot next to him.

She sat, curling a long leg beneath her. She had her hair pulled up high on her head and, like everyone else at Hogwarts, her cheeks were flushed from the heat. "Well?"

Harry chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip for a moment before responding. "See, Ginny, the thing is that I don't like you the way you seem to like me."

She tilted her head to the side, waiting for more.

"I don't have any interest in dating you," he elaborated. "Ever."

She sighed, leaning back against the sofa. "Oh, Harry, I know that. I just keep hoping that if I'm persistent that I'll change your mind."

Harry shook his head. "I'm sorry Ginny. That's not going to happen."

She shrugged. "Can't blame a girl for trying." She stood up, leaning over to brush a kiss over Harry's cheek. "I'm always going to have a crush on you, you know. One never forgets their first love."

He laughed slightly. "I know - and thanks Ginny. For understanding."

She nodded, reaching out and ruffling his hair. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight," he said softly, watching her walk up the stairs to the dormitory. She really was a very pretty girl; he just wasn't interested in her. Or any girl for that matter. Closing his eyes he leaned his head against the back of the sofa. Then he remembered something Ginny had said. Dean said you had a date.

Harry thought it might be a good idea to talk to Dean tomorrow. He stood up and stretched, feeling his tired muscles pull slightly. The portrait hole opened, and Harry turned as Ron and Hermione crawled through.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, walking quickly over to him. "Where have you been?"

"We looked all over for you," Ron supplied with a grin.

"I was in the Prefect Lounge." Harry didn't see the need to supply any more information than he had to.

"Doing what?" Hermione asked, causing Harry to groan. Of course she would want more information. She looked pointedly at her watch. "You've been gone for three hours."

Harry shrugged. "I was working on a few things. You're the one who says we need to study more."

She pursed her lips, causing Ron to stifle a laugh. Giving Harry a long look, she said, "Whatever Harry."

Harry sighed, knowing with certainty that she didn't believe him. Crookshanks suddenly appeared on the stairs, meowing loudly. Hermione smiled, picking up the large, ginger cat. "I'm going to bed," she announced, heading up the stairs. "Goodnight, boys."

Both murmured "goodnight" and headed up the stairs to their own dormitory.

"Did you really have a date?" Ron asked suddenly, turning to face Harry.

"No," Harry said exasperatedly. "I suppose you heard that from Dean?"

"Ginny, actually. She was pretty hacked off about it." The statement was made with a large grin.

"Yes, well, I had a chat with Ginny. There will be no more tantrums on her part."

Ron shook his head, laughing. "My sister is one of a kind."

Harry didn't think that statement warranted a comment. He reached around Ron and opened the door to the bathroom. Both boys stepped in, brushing their teeth and washing their faces. They finished the walk to their dormitory and Ron headed towards his bed.

"Night, mate," he said with a yawn.

"Night," Harry replied. He stripped off his clothes, throwing them in a pile on the floor. He pulled on a pair of pajama pants, as that was all he could tolerate sleeping in with the heat, set his glasses on the nightstand, and fell into bed. With a muttered spell, his curtains fell shut. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

After what felt like only a few minutes, he was roughly shaken awake by Ron.

"Harry, it's time for breakfast," Ron said, giving him one more shake. "Get up." Ron reached up and fully opened the curtains around Harry's bed.

Harry groaned, forcing his eyes open. They immediately shut again as the light coming in through the window nearly blinded him. "What time is it?"

Ron laughed, reaching down and pulling him into a sitting position. "Eight o'clock. Get up. We want to go eat." He handed Harry his glasses, which were promptly slid on.

"I actually slept the whole night," Harry murmured in awe. "That's rather amazing." He stumbled out of bed, reached blindly for some clothes in his wardrobe, and headed towards the showers.

He managed to shower without falling back to sleep and dried off quickly, rubbing the towel over his hair to get rid of the excess water. He reached for his boxers, tugging them on. It was stiflingly hot in the showers, due not only to the intense heat, but the steam as well. He used the end of his towel to wipe off the mirror, and reached up with both hands to brace himself against it. He studied his reflection; he still had large dark circles under his eyes, even with the seven hours of sleep he'd gotten the previous night.

"You look tired, dear," the mirror helpfully told him.

"I am," he muttered, turning away. He pulled the rest of his clothes on, placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose, brushed his teeth, and then went to work on his hair. After only a few moments, he sighed in resignation. There was just no hope for it.

He returned to his room, throwing his pajamas on the bed. It was perhaps even hotter in here because there were several windows around the room, sunshine streaming in each. Ron was sitting on his own bed reading Quidditch Through the Ages for what must have been
the hundredth time, cheeks flushed. This had become a trademark for everyone at Hogwarts; people were beginning to do double takes if someone didn't appear to be flushed from the heat.

"Ready?" Ron asked, marking his page. Harry nodded, picking his watch up off the nightstand and fastening it around his wrist, noticing it was already half eight. Grabbing his wand, he replied, "Let's go."

Ron led the way down the stairs, greeting Hermione in the common room. She was wearing a simple blue sundress with her hair pulled up on the top of her head; since they didn't have classes students weren't expected to dress in their house colors. She was, as always, carrying a large book. The trio walked leisurely out of Gryffindor Tower, making inane conversation.

Entering the Great Hall, Harry immediately looked for Draco. He wasn't present, and neither was most of his house. This wasn't odd, though, as half the school usually didn't make it down for breakfast on Saturdays.

He ate quickly, ignoring the curious looks from Ron and Hermione who no doubt wanted to know why he was rushing his way through a breakfast he normally slept through. He needed to talk to Draco, and he didn't want to wait. Swallowing the rest of his orange juice in one gulp, he stood up.

"Going somewhere, Harry?" Hermione asked without looking up from her book.

"Yes," he responded. "I'm going to finish my Animagus essay."

Hermione arched a brow, still not looking up. Ron gave him an odd look. "Where?" he asked. "Just in case we need to find you," he hastily added at Harry's questioning look. Hermione hid a laugh behind a cough.

Harry grinned in response, shaking his head. "I'll be around," he said, winking at his two friends. "Just around."

Hermione finally looked up, giving an exasperated, "Harry." He ignored her, weaving his way out of the Great Hall. He headed down the stairs toward the Slytherin common room. He really had no idea how he was going to actually get Draco to talk to him, since he was pretty sure the other Slytherins wouldn't just let him in. Maybe if he asked nicely? Harry snorted at the thought. He doubted that would work either.

By this time he'd reached the entrance. He raised his hand to knock, but realized that pounding on the stone wall wouldn't yield him any results except an extremely sore hand.

"Malfoy!" he yelled instead, figuring that the Slytherins would eventually get tired of him shouting in the hallway. "Come out here! We have something to discuss!"

Harry figured that this wasn't too bad of an excuse; he and Draco still occasionally got into arguments over things, so the Slytherins hopefully wouldn't think anything of it. Of course, Harry didn't usually stand outside rival common rooms, yelling at the top of his voice, but hopefully no one would really question it this particular time.

There was no immediate response but Harry didn't let that deter him. "Malfoy, open the door!"

Just as he got the urge to kick the wall, it slid open and a disgruntled Pansy Parkinson stood before him. She was still in her nightclothes, a purple silk dressing gown on over them. Harry really didn't have much of a desire to see Pansy in her nightgown, and really didn't want to be talking to her regardless. "And to what do we owe this pleasure, Potter?" she finally asked with false politeness, after giving him a once over.

Harry got along fairly well with most of the Slytherin Adversarius members, with the one exception of Pansy. They had never seen eye-to-eye and she no doubt disapproved of Draco spending so much time with the "resident Boy Wonder".

"I need to speak to Draco," he replied calmly. He saw anger flash in the girl's blue eyes and heat flare in her already red cheeks and resisted the urge to just shove her to the side and find Draco
himself.

"He doesn't want to speak to you," she said with false pleasantness. "Go away."

She started to slide the entrance closed, but Harry used his body to block her path.

"Parkinson, I need to speak to Draco. And if you won't bring him out to me, I'm going to go in and get him. And you're not going to stop me."

***

Draco knew he couldn't avoid Harry forever, but he hadn't thought that he would come seek him out. And not just that, but demand to speak to him. Harry was definitely using his characteristic Gryffindor bravery, considering how a lot of people in Slytherin house still felt about him.

Draco stepped up next to Pansy, laying a hand on her shoulder to silence her before she could start yelling. "Here I am, Potter," he said quietly, avoiding Harry's green gaze. "What do you want?"

Outwardly, he was composed, his feelings hidden behind his usual Malfoy mask. His insides, however, were tied up in knots. He wanted to run away and hide forever. Harry was the courageous one, after all. Not him. Draco wasn't sure he'd ever be ready to face him again.

Harry glanced towards Pansy briefly, before returning his gaze to Draco. "I need to speak to you. Alone," he added pointedly, glancing again at Pansy. "Now," he said in a tone of voice that didn't allow for discussion or arguments.

Draco nodded once, stepping past Pansy and into the corridor. They waited until she had closed the entrance before moving down the hall and stopping outside a small study room.

"Will this work?" Draco asked, keeping his back to Harry. He could feel Harry behind him and his heart rate accelerated.

"Yes," Harry responded softly, reaching around Draco to open the door. The action caused Harry's hand to brush his arm, and Draco shivered at the contact.

The door swung in and Harry placed a hand in the center of Draco's back, pushing slightly to get him to enter the room. He stepped in behind him, closing the door.

"So," Harry began. Draco turned around, fully facing him for the first time. He hid his shaking hands behind his back, gripping them together tightly.

"So," he whispered back. He couldn't help himself; he hungrily raked his gaze over Harry, starting at the top of the disheveled head, over the oh-so-familiar face, cheeks flushed from the heat, down the lightly muscled chest encased in green cotton, down the blue jean shorts and the tanned legs and to the toes of the white trainers. By the time he returned to Harry's face, he was slightly out of breath and the desire to kiss Harry was nearly overwhelming.

"Look, Draco, about last night. I for one think what you did was a bit rude." There was a hint of a smile playing around the corners of Harry's mouth and his eyes were flashing deviously.

"Harry, I'm sorry," Draco said miserably.

"I mean," Harry continued like he hadn't even heard him, "you can't just kiss someone and run off. That's just not the way it's supposed to be done."

Harry had been steadily moving towards him during the speech, and Draco had found himself backing up in response. He gasped as his back hit the stone wall behind him. Harry smirked, reaching up to place both hands on either side of Draco's head.

"No place to go," he said, smiling wickedly. "You see, Draco, the thing is that if you'd bothered to stay last night, you would have realized that I wanted you to kiss me."

Draco's eyes widened. Harry wanted him to kiss him? "You did?" he asked, his voice jumping up an octave. He cleared his throat hastily in an attempt to bring it back to normal.

Harry nodded. "Desperately so, I'm afraid." He moved a hand to Draco's face, brushing a thumb lightly over his cheek.

"Oh," Draco sighed, turning into the barely-there touch.

"Oh." Harry smiled again. "So what do you say you kiss me now? Then I can kiss you back, and everything will be as it's supposed to, if not a few hours late."

Draco nodded, thinking that was the best idea he'd ever heard. He leaned forward. "Well, I can't argue with that logic," he said, his lips brushing Harry's as he spoke. Harry smiled slightly before leaning in to close the distance. The stone wall against Draco's back felt really cold compared to the heat radiating off Harry's body as it pressed against him. Harry's tongue parted his lips, and Draco's met the caress. He found himself falling into the sensation; it was one he never thought he'd feel. Harry was kissing him, and it was wonderful, even better than he'd thought it could be. Their tongues slid against each other as if they had done so a thousand times before, Harry's exploring every ridge and crevice in Draco's mouth. His tongue brushed against the roof of his mouth and Draco let out a quiet moan. Oh, yes. So much better than he'd thought it would be.

They finally separated, and Harry brushed kisses across Draco's cheek before returning and placing a chaste one directly on his mouth. He pulled back, eyes shining, and Draco felt himself smiling back. He was completely surrounded by Harry and couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be.

"Mmm, nice," Harry murmured, raising up slightly on tiptoes to kiss Draco's forehead. He wrapped his arms around his neck, burying his face in the spot directly below Draco's chin. One hand slid up into Draco's hair. Harry was a couple inches shorter than Draco, which in Draco's opinion meant Harry fit against him just perfectly.

Draco held Harry close, content to stand and hold him forever. They didn't speak and the only sound in the quiet dungeon room was that of their synchronized breathing. Harry finally pulled away, raising his head for one more kiss, and turned to sit at the table. He motioned for Draco to join him, and he obliged. Draco reached for Harry's hand, entwining their fingers together as he pulled it closer. Harry scooted his chair closer so that their knees were touching.

Draco brought Harry's hand near his face, and seeing a scar along the top of it, raised his eyes curiously. "What happened?"

Harry was silent. Draco rubbed his thumb over the white lines, noticing that they actually formed words. "Harry, how did you get these?"

Harry sighed. "Umbridge."

Draco tightened his grip. "What did she do?"

Harry didn't answer right away. "'I must not tell lies'," he finally said, voice flat.

"What?" Draco asked.

"That's what she made me write, over and over again. 'I must not tell lies.' Only it wasn't with a normal quill. This one didn't use ink. It used my blood, and whatever I wrote was scratched into my hand. I had to write it so many times that it's been permanently engraved in my skin."

Draco felt sick. He remembered fully how he'd helped her wreak her havoc around the school, and was horrified at the memories. It was amazing that Harry was even willing to speak to him after everything he'd done.

Harry seemed to sense his thoughts. "Forget it, Draco. It's over and done with now. There's no use dwelling on the past. We have to move on."

Draco shook his head. "You're too good a person, Harry." I don't deserve you, he thought to himself.

Harry shook his head once, squeezed his hand, and pointedly changed the subject by asking, "What are your plans for today?"

Draco sighed, not wanting to drop the previous conversation but knowing Harry didn't want to talk about it any longer. "I was going to meet my mother for lunch. She and Sirius are back from London, you know. I was wondering what they'd found out. You could join us, too, and bring Sirius with you as well."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You seem to be taking their relationship in stride."

Draco shrugged. "They were together for three years here at Hogwarts, but she'd been promised to my father in an arranged marriage, and there wasn't anything she could do to get out of it. They were married, she had me, and that's that. After I told my father that I wouldn't join Voldemort she decided that she didn't want to remain with him any longer either. It was really only a matter of time. I think she was just waiting for me to make the first move."

Harry nodded, taking it all in. "So, if they were to marry, that'd be okay with you?"

Draco smiled. "Yes. It would. It would make her happy, and that's all that really matters. God knows my mother deserves to be happy."

Harry smiled, and leaned in, kissing Draco again. "That's what I think about Sirius, too."

They sat in silence, enjoying being near each other and that they could touch each other without questions or comments from others. Suddenly, Harry gripped Draco's hand tightly, raising his other to his scar. "Oh, no," he whispered in horror.

"What?" Draco asked, instantly panicked. Harry looked to be in pain, and Draco wasn't sure what was going on.

"It's Voldemort. He's attacking somewhere." Harry gasped. "I need to get to Dumbledore. Help me. I can't walk by myself." Or at least, that's what Draco thought he said, as Harry was having a bit of trouble getting the words out.

Draco stood, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist and pulling him to his feet. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Harry asked, with a small grin that turned into a grimace. "Voldemort or Dumbledore?"

Draco assumed that since he was trying to make a joke that this had happened to him before. "Dumbledore. What's going on, Harry?"

Harry took a shuddering breath. "It's this," he said, punctuating the statement by shoving his hair off his head and revealing the scar hidden beneath. "It connects me to Voldemort. I can see what he's doing if he's feeling something strongly. And Dumbledore is in his office."

"And Voldemort's feeling something strongly?" Draco asked, opening the door and helping Harry down the hall.

Harry nodded jerkily. "Hatred. And glee. He's killing people and he's happy about it."

Draco regarded him in horror. Harry could see this? He could feel it?

Harry smiled slightly. "It's okay, Draco. The pain's starting to fade."

By this time they'd reached Dumbledore's office. Before Harry could speak the password, the spiral staircase appeared, with Dumbledore standing at the bottom. "Come to see me, Harry?"

Draco didn't ask how the Headmaster knew they were coming since the old wizard always seemed to know about a lot of things he shouldn't have been able to.

Harry laughed shakily, "Voldemort," his only reply.

Dumbledore nodded. " Here, Harry, have a sherbet lemon. They always make me feel better."

Harry rolled his eyes, but took the proffered candy and put it in his mouth.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you help Harry to the Prefect Lounge? I think we need to have an emergency meeting."

Draco nodded and gripped Harry more tightly, holding him close. He helped him into the Lounge. Lupin was in there working with Blaise and Tracey, who both looked up as they entered.

"Ah, Mr. Zabini, Miss Davis. Would you please go inform the other members that we need to have an emergency meeting?" Dumbledore kindly asked.

Both nodded, leaving immediately. As Blaise passed Draco and Harry he quietly asked, "All right, Potter?"

Harry nodded, and received a nod in response. Dumbledore looked at him. "Tell me what happened, Harry."

Harry sat on the sofa, Draco sitting next to him. Harry leaned slightly against him, using Draco to help him remain upright. "It was Reading. They attacked Reading. I saw a flash of green. Someone, or a group of someones, said the Avada Kedavra. There were families screaming, and I saw several Muggles being killed. The Dark Mark was above the houses. There were at least fifty Death Eaters."

Draco listened wide-eyed. He'd had no idea that Harry was having visions of the attacks, and had no idea that the scar he'd ridiculed so many times in the past was actually a direct link to the most dangerous Dark Wizard the Wizarding World had seen.

Dumbledore was observing him with a bit of amusement. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I see that Harry hasn't told you about his gift."

Harry snorted at the use of the word "gift", rolling his eyes. Draco shook his head, turning to look at him. "Later," Harry whispered, and Draco could only nod in response.

The other members of the Adversarius started filing into the room as well as several staff and Ministry officials, Sirius and Narcissa amongst them. Lupin had obviously contacted the members of the Order of the Phoenix.

"There's been another attack," Dumbledore calmly informed them all. "On Reading."