Yule Ball

Yule Ball

Chapter III

"Well, don't you look like the cat that just caught the canary."

Harry tried to glare at Hermione, but found he couldn't bring himself to stop smiling. He took the armchair next to hers, staring into the fireplace in silence.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, good greif."

"Harry got laid!" Seamus crowed, leaning over the back of the armchair to grin at his roommate.

Harry finally managed that glare. "Seamus..."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, eyes wide in shock. "Is that a hickey?"

He blushed bright red, hands flying up to his scarf. "Of course not--"

"It is!" Seamus cried triumphantly. "Well, it's about bloody time, Harry."

"And would you look at the time? I'm just going to head on upstairs and get ready!"

He beat a hasty retreat out of the Common Room, grateful that Draco had missed that particular conversation. He scowled. *I hope I left a few marks on you, too.*

*Huh?*

*Nevermind.*

Draco sighed. *Didn't I tell you to pull your collar up?*

*Oh, bugger off.*

The Slytherin snickered but obeyed, his presence slipping away from Harry and back to the Slytherin dungeons. Harry found himself at the door to his dorm and entered, finding his other three roommates already there. The room looked like one of the locker rooms after a Quidditch game, with robes and various articles of clothing spread all over the floor and furniture.

"You guys getting ready now?" he asked, slightly surprised. From the little muggle clock on Dean's nightstand he gathered that they still had three hours till the Ball started. "Isn't it a bit early? I mean, most of the girls haven't even started yet, and Herm's still in the Common Room."

Ron leaned over and hit him with a pillow. "Oh honestly, Harry! Where have you been? We've been talking about this for days!"

"Huh?"

Dean smirked. "Must be some girl... Don't you remember? I'm, er, borrowing the dorm tonight. It's kinda important..."

He racked his brain for some idea of what they were all talking about, but drew a blank. Jeez, have I really been that out of it? he wondered.

Neville beamed. "We're all going to stay in that extra classroom Ron told us about so Dean and Seamus can have the dorm tonight."

"Oh. Um... why?"

Ron made another swing in his direction with the pillow, but Harry managed to duck this time. "Lord, even Neville's memory is better than that!"

Neville looked only slightly offended by this, and Ron offered him an apologetic smile. Dean pulled a small black box out of his pocket, and held it out so they could all see it. "I'm going to give him this tonight."

Harry's eyes widened, and then he smiled brightly. For the first time in all the years he'd known the other boy, Dean looked nervous, but there was still a shaky smile on his dark features. "That's great, Dean! Congratulations!"

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn't stop smiling. "He hasn't said yes yet, you git."

"But we all know he will!" Ron called, his head buried deep inside his trunk while he dug about within.

Harry frowned. "Okay, well that still doesn't explain why you're all tearing the room apart."

The others shuffled their feet and looked a bit nervous. Ron laughed. "Oh well, we were cleaning, but then I couldn't find that book on Charms Herm lent me-- we were going to use that to fix up the dorm."

"Yeah, we found this spell in there that would make the walls transparent from the inside," Neville explained. "We hid it in your trunk, but now it's not there anymore."

He looked over to his bed and noticed for the first time the blanket was rumpled and the lid to his trunk cracked open. "Oh. Why'd you put it in there?"

Ron shrugged. "Your bed is the farthest from Seamus', and when I asked you said it was okay. Guess you must've been spacing out again. Sorry."

Harry smiled and opened his trunk, pushing his clothes out of the way and opening a small compartment in the bottom where he kept the invisibility cloak and Marauder's Map. Sure enough, there was a large red book with yellowing pages inside. He pulled it out, and the others laughed in relief. "It must've fallen in the bottom the other night."

He handed the book over to Dean who took it gratefully. "Now we just have to clean up *this* mess."

They spent the next hour cleaning up the room and practising the charm to make sure it would work when Dean needed it that night. The effect was incredible- as Seventh Years they had the top of the tower, so it was like being above the entire castle. Outside birds flew past the walls just an armslength away, and the little black specks moving about below were students crossing the snowy courtyard. The white topped branches of trees nearby was like a lumpy blanket spread out across the land rolling away towards distant, blue-gray mountains.

"Wow," Harry breathed, unable to really put into words the sight around him.

"We should try this out some other time," Ron said from beside him. "Just imagine what it'd look like at night!"

Harry clapped an arm on Dean's shoulder, grinning. "Seamus is going to love it."

"I know," he said with a smirk. "He's such an exhibitionist."

Ron wrinkled his nose and they all laughed. At the sound of footsteps coming from beyond the door (which was not invisible and looked a bit odd standing there alone), Dean hastily whispered, "Finite Incantatem!"

The walls appeared again closing off the room and they all rushed to their beds, trying to look casual. The door swung open a minute later, and Seamus entered, looking at them all a bit suspiciously, but apparently shrugging it off.

"Some of the third years started a game of Exploding Snap, anybody interested?" Seamus asked, his accent giving his words a whimsical quality. Ron nodded and got up, and Dean followed a moment after.

"Sure, why not?" he said, turning to Harry and Neville who were still perched on their respective beds. "You two coming?"

Harry shook his head. "Nah, not this time. Thanks anyway."

"I think I'll stay here, too," Neville added and the other three filed out, leaving the room oddly quiet.

"Who're you going with, Neville?" Harry asked, feeling the sudden need to talk to fight off the nervousness clawing at him. After all, who knew if he'd still be friends with these people come tomorrow? Well, he thought, at least Neville knew and didn't seem to mind.

Neville blushed, his cheeks going pink. "Oh, um, Ginny Weasley."

His eyebrows shot up into his hairline. "Ginny? Really?"

"Yeah, surprising, huh?" he said, chuckling softly.

"That's wonderful!" Harry exclaimed, and Neville's whole face lit up. Then Harry frowned as something else occurred to him. "Does Ron know?"

"Not yet," Neville answered, biting his lip. "Ginny said he wouldn't care but... Well, you're his best friend, how do you think he'll feel?"

With Neville's hopeful eyes turned on him, Harry tried to find a delicate reply without lying to him. "He's a bit protective over her, but I'm sure he'll get used to it eventually. How long have you two been dating?"

"A couple of weeks now," Neville answered, twiddling his thumbs and looking everywhere but Harry. Harry laughed.

"Don't worry about it, Neville! Hey, if it'll make you feel any better, you can tell him before he finds out about me, okay?" Harry offered. "That way he'll be a little shocked but not violent."

Neville laughed. "You better keep Crabbe and Goyle around for backup tonight."

He grinned, imagining Draco's thugs keeping Ron from lynching his boyfriend. "That's not a half-bad idea. I might not be able to hold him back by myself."

Neville's face softened, and the round boy offered him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry Harry, I'm sure Ron will come around eventually."

"I hope so, Neville."

*******

Harry shifted his feet, trying in vain to straighten his eternally unkempt black hair. It refused to be conquered, however, sticking out at odd angles and obscuring the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. That was one reason why he rarely cut his hair, letting it hang messily in to his face- at least people wouldn't stare as much, even if it did get in his eyes.

"C'mon Harry," came Ron's voice from behind him. "It's a hopeless cause."

Harry scowled but gave up, knowing his friend was right. He turned, looking him over. Ron was wearing scarlet robes that matched his flaming hair. Harry's were dark green, since Draco had told him once that the colour made his eyes look like emeralds. Draco had, of course, been rather intoxicated at the time.

"You look like a Slytherin," Ron commented, one brow raised.

He smiled. "Yes, but together we'll look like Christmas."

Ron laughed and they headed downstairs into the loud Common Room. The entire place was like a hive of people, coming and going from the Portrait hole and hanging around in noisy groups. They spotted Hermione by the door, dressed in dark purple robes with her chestnut hair pulled up in an elaborate bun.

He smirked as he heard Ron's footsteps falter beside him, and waved to his friend as she crossed over to them.

"Hello, Herm," Harry said jovially, elbowing Ron in the side. The other boy blushed a crimson that made his whole body look like it'd just caught fire. Harry leaned closer to Hermione, blinking in surprise. "Is that makeup?"

She pursed her lips, frowning at him. "Well, I am a girl, in case you've forgotten."

He shot her a wry smile. "Oh no, I don't think Ron would let me forget something like that."

They both blushed, and Ron's eyes narrowed at him. "So Harry, where's your mystery date?"

Silence reigned in a ten foot radius around him, and he coughed nervously. "Oh, well, they're not in Gryffindor."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "No? I could've sworn it was going to be Ginny! What with the way she's been giggling constantly for the past few weeks."

"Ginny?" Ron repeated, immediately jumping into "Protective Big Brother" mode. "She's not going to the Ball, is she?"

"Of course I am!"

They all turned in surprise at the voice behind them, finding Ginny in violet robes with a nervous Neville beside her in blue.

"Um, actually, we're going together," Neville announced, and Ginny squeezed his hand encouragingly. Ron's eye twitched, but Hermione cut in before he had a chance to blow up.

"Congratulations! That's great, isn't it, Ron?" she asked, sending him a Very Stern Look.

He grumbled something inaudible before answering. "Yeah, yeah, wonderful. Just bring her back before midnight, got it?"

Neville swallowed and nodded vigorously, and Ginny sighed loudly beside him. "Oh honestly, Ron, you're not my father!"

He glowered, and Hermione smiled shakily, pulling him towards the door. "C'mon guys, the Ball starts in ten minutes."

The halls were crowded with people already on their way down to the Great Hall. Harry could feel his stomach churning in nervousness and took a few calming breaths. Draco sent him a small wave of comfort that helped to ease his nerves, and he repeated the gesture in gratitude.

When they arrived the doors to the Great Hall were closed, and a large, noisy crowd had gathered before it. McGonagal stood in front of the heavy oak doors, guarding them from curious students. Harry searched about him for a familiar blonde, when a drawl from behind him made him turn quickly.

"Well, Potter, aren't you going to reveal your secret date to your waiting fans?" he asked, but his voice lacked its usual mocking tone.

Harry swept his eyes over him, his breath quickening. Draco had let his silver hair fall in elegant strands around his face rather than slicking it back, making his effeminate features more pronounced. He wore sleek gray robes that clung to his lithe form, their color shifting when he moved. He looked ethereal.

Harry smiled and held out a hand. "Can't keep them waiting any longer then, can I?"

Draco took his hand and stood beside him. A rush of whispers swept through the crowd, all eyes turned on them. Harry glanced nervously at his friends who stood in shocked silence. Ron was the first to recover, his face turning even redder than earlier.

"M-Malfoy?!" he choked. Harry nodded and waited for an attack, but fortunately Hermione grabbed his arm, glaring at him in warning. She nodded at Harry.

"I really shouldn't have been so surprised," she murmured thoughtfully. "Harry... I don't think now's a good time to talk about this, with all of us upset. But Ron and I are your friends, no matter what happens."

Relief washed through him as he heard Ron grunt in agreement, albeit reluctantly. He turned to Harry, breathing deeply to calm his temper. "I'm sorry, Harry... I just, I can't talk to you right now. I just can't."

Harry nodded, trying not to let his emotions show as he watched the red-haired boy storm through the crowd. Hermione glanced back at him with a determined, tight-lipped smile before following her boyfriend through the path he'd created in the students. Draco squeezed his hand, grey eyes reflecting concern when they met his.

*Are you all right?*

Harry nodded slightly, but before he could respond, Dumbledore appeared beside McGonagall, smiling brightly at them, his bright eyes twinkling merrily.

"Go ahead and open the doors, Minerva," he said, and she did so, revealing the large room beyond. It was fairly dark, lit only by softly glowing snowflakes that hung in the air, casting a bluish glow all about them. The tables had been taken away, and in their place were small round ones surrounding the dance floor. A long one had been left before the staff table, and it was laden with the food (mostly desserts), with red, green and gold candles set here and there down its length. The actual dance floor itself had been covered with a thin layer of snow, magicked so that it wouldn't melt in the warm room.

"Welcome to the Hogwarts' Annual Yule Ball," Dumbledore announced. He stepped aside to allow the students to file through into the large, dimly-lit room. Harry, with Draco's slender hand still curved around his own, moved in, following the mass of bodies. They stopped at a table near the back, and were immediately surrounded by the inquisitive faces of Harry's friends.

"Are you really dating Malfoy, Harry?"

"He didn't curse you, did he?"

"Are you completely mad?"

"It wasn't a love potion, was it?"

"What did Ron say? I can't believe he didn't kill you!"

"Shut up!" Draco finally snapped, and the whole lot of them turned angry glares on him. He ignored them with his usual arrogant nonchalance, looking down at his free hand as though there were actually dirt under his perfect nails. "Can't you see you're annoying him? For fuck's sake, the least you could do is take turns interrogating him."

Harry coughed, and the rest of them (although clearly no less annoyed with Draco), looked somewhat guilty.

"Sorry, Harry," Seamus said, being the first to break the tense silence. "I s'pose it's just the shock. I mean, Malfoy? Seriously?"

Dean nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it's shocking enough to see you two together without trying to kill each other. Sorry though."

He shrugged it off. "It's fine, I understand. Anyway, yes, Malfoy, and no he did not curse me, I like to believe I'm sane, no, there were no love potions involved, and hopefully Ron will be able to talk to me before the end of the year."

His answers seemed to satisfy them momentarily, but seconds later they were all bursting with new ones.

"Oh just spit it out already, Longbottom," Draco said, drawing Harry's attention to Neville who stood wide-eyed near the back of the group.

"What's the matter, Neville?" Harry asked gently, slightly irked by Draco's cocky behaviour.

Ginny smiled and nodded at him, although she didn't seem to know what he wanted either.

"Um, I was just wondering if you could tell us," he paused and chewed his bottom lip for a moment, "what you were talking about back at the lake."

"Oh, that," Harry replied vaguely. Draco, along with the rest of the group watched him curiously. He noticed then that the Slytherins were surprisingly absent. He'd expected them to storm over and immediately start demanding explanations, at the very least, or threaten to curse them. "Well, I'd like to wait and explain that later, if Ron and Hermione come back."

*Explain what?*

*This,* Harry replied mentally. *Our telepathy. I kinda hinted towards it when I talked to Neville that first time. Actually, I'm rather surprised he remembered.*

He realized the group had gone rather quiet, and noticed the two large bodies that were pushing through to them. Next to him Draco tensed, eyeing the approaching Slytherins warily. Crabbe and Goyle stepped in front of them, but their eyes were locked on Draco. Then they both reached beneath the collar of their robes and removed two identical charms, placing them in Draco's palm. Draco stared at the necklaces, twin sapphire pendants swaying softly with the slight movements of his hand, clearly shocked by their actions, but Harry had no idea what was happening.

"We don't protect you just cause we have to, Draco," Crabbe said in his deep, gruff voice. It was probably the longest sentence Harry had ever heard him use. That said, the two stalked away, back to the Slytherin side of the room.

"What on earth was that all about?" Harry asked, still completely confused. Draco slipped the charms into his pocket and turned to him.

"Those were used to monitor my behavior," he explained, voice neutral. Harry's eyes widened in understanding, and murmurs ran through the group around them.

Music began to play, from where Harry didn't know, and their little crowd began to disperse. Draco turned on him, and Harry smiled.

"Shall we?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. "Why not? We've already given them the shock of their lives- might as well rub it in a bit."

They moved out to the dance floor, Draco completely unaffected by the many eyes following their movement. Harry bit his lip, trying to ignore them, reminding himself that after seven years he should be used to it. He moved to put his hands on Draco's hips, but stopped when he noticed the pale boy's glare.

"What?"

"I am not going to be the girl, Harry," he warned. Harry blinked.

"Well, you're the small one," he defended, and narrowly missed having his foot stepped on.

"You're only an inch taller than me. Besides, Potter, we both know I'm the better dancer."

By now they had a fairly large audience; Harry lowered his voice, trying not to make a scene. "Fine. But next time it's my turn."

He wrapped his arms around the blond's neck and felt the familiar weight of Draco's hands on his waist. They began to move together to the music; Draco as graceful as always and Harry copying him a bit awkwardly. After a few minutes he got the pattern down and began to feel more confident, although the weight of other people's stares was like a burning hole in the back of his head.

*Don't worry about them,* Draco reassured him. Harry could feel his breath brushing his cheek as they moved. *They can all sod off. You're doing fine.*

*Thanks,* Harry said, hesitating before continuing. He really didn't want to cause trouble, but... *D'you think you could be a bit nicer? I know it'll ruin your reputation, but it's not going to help if you prove all the Gryffindors right and act like a git.*

Draco sighed. *I know. I don't know how you put up with them, always breathing down your neck like that.*

He pulled back a bit, and looked into Draco's eyes hopefully. *You'll at least try, then?*

*Fine. It's not as though things can get much weirder.*

Harry was finally beginning to relax when he felt Draco stiffen against him, and looked up at him questioningly. The other boy's gaze was focused on something behind him, and his face had become a cold, gaurded mask.

"Draco? Is something wrong?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Harry realized that the source of Draco's annoyance was a small group of Slytherins, who were shooting baleful glares in their direction. He turned back to Draco, who still had not answered him, and searched in his mind for some reassurance; but he found there wasn't really anything to say.

He sighed. "Draco?"

Draco looked away this time, meeting his gaze. His expression was icy, and his eyes looked as hard as metal. Harry was grateful that he wasn't the one that anger was directed at. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

Harry just nodded, knowing there was nothing he could say to change things.

The song ended and they turned back to the table. Ron and Hermione had returned, both looking weary. He felt a momentary twinge of guilt for having told them now and ruining the night, but quickly quelled it, reminding himself that they had to find out sometime.

"Hi Harry. Malfoy," Hermione said as they arrived, nodding curtly at Draco. He nodded back stiffly.

Harry turned to Ron, gathering up his courage. "Are you ready to talk now?"

Ron glared darkly at Draco, who was obviously fighting to not return it. "Does he have to be here?"

With an exasperated sigh, Harry glanced over at Draco, pleading silently with him. The blond scowled moodily, arms crossed over his chest. *Please?*

"Fine," Draco grumbled, and moved off to another part of the Hall, quickly disappearing within the crowd. Harry was more than a little sorry to see him go-- now that he was alone with Ron's anger, he felt a lot less confident. But, he reminded himself, he'd gone up against worse things than Ron Weasley's rage.

"All right, he's gone now," Harry said, shooting Ron a rather frustrated look, which the red-head pointedly ignored.

Since Ron wasn't exactly forthcoming with any explanations, Hermione stepped in. "While we were gone we talked about what was the most important to us. And while admittedly this is very difficult to accept, your friendship matters more to us than Malfoy does."

"And I'm clinging to the hope that he runs off in a few weeks," Ron muttered. He noticed Harry's glare and shifted about uncomfortably. "Look Harry, I agree with Mione. We're still friends. We'll always be friends. But I can't just stop hating Malfoy overnight. He's been a bastard to us for seven fucking years, in case you've forgotten. That's kind of hard to ignore."

Harry nodded. "I know. It wasn't exactly fun for me at first either, you know. I hated him just as much as you guys do."

Hermione looked thoughtful, and she turned her gaze on him, studying his features. "So what was it that changed things?"

"Ah, that seems to be the story everyone's waiting for," Harry replied offhandedly. "Before we get into that, as there are some other people who'd like to know as well, I just want to make sure everything is okay with you two. I'm not asking you to just forgive and forget everything Malfoy did to us; but please, for my sake, at least try to tolerate him."

"We'll try, Harry," Hermione said, and her tone of voice left no room for argument. Harry smiled gratefully at her.

"Thanks."

His thoughts turned inward, and he sent his mind out, searching for Draco who had apparently ended up over by the punch table and was currently getting himself rather tipsy. He rolled his eyes, hoping that he hadn't had too much. A drunk Draco Malfoy was very hard to control. Not that a sober one was much better.

*Draco? I think it's okay to come back now,* he said. Draco made no response. *Oh for Merlin's sake, I'm sorry I made you leave, but I had to talk to Ron. He's pissed enough without having you around to make things worse.*

*Lovely way of apologizing you have there,* Draco drawled sarcastically. *Makes a guy feel all warm and fuzzy inside.*

*Would you please stop acting like a drama queen and get over here already?*

Draco grumbled something very rude in what sounded like Latin, but set his cup of punch down and began pushing through the crowds of people on the dance floor towards Harry. Ron and Hermione had resumed talking to each other, and Harry glanced about in search of everyone else. He found Neville and Ginny first, dancing nearby, and waited until he'd caught Neville's eye before motioning for them to come over. Next he saw Seamus and Dean and waved to them as well.

Once their group was complete again, with Ron and Draco glaring death and castration at one another, Harry coughed, trying to think of where to begin.

"All right, now for the explanation that I promised you," Harry said. "Remember that detention I had with Snape and Draco about two months ago?"

There were a few nods, and Harry continued. "We were supposed to clean the potions closet, as usual. Snape left in search of someone else to bother, and we started working. Things were going all right for awhile, but then we had an argument, and one thing led to another..."

******

The potions closet had always been cold and damp, and far too small, but tonight it seemed to be worse than normal. Or maybe that was just the result of his present company. In any case, Harry Potter was not in the best of moods, and was looking forward to crawling back up to Gryffindor Tower as soon as possible.

"Hurry up, Potter," Malfoy snapped, waiting for Harry to finish cleaning a bottle of what had been crushed frog eggs. They had been sticky and more than a little expired, the red jammy substance had taken him a good ten minutes or so to scrape out of its jar. Malfoy, who had been drying and putting the bottles away, glared at him in irritation, tapping his foot impatiently.

Harry shoved it into his hand, reaching for the next bottle, but Malfoy pushed him out of the way. Harry reminded himself that killing the other boy was not, in fact, an option and ground his teeth. "What are you doing, Malfoy?"

Shooting a condescending look over his shoulder, Draco stood on his toes, reaching for an old bottle of some potion whose yellowed label was torn and peeling to the point of being indecipherable.

"Since you seem determined to be here all night, I'm going to do this part." His fingers brushed the glass, just barely able to reach it. "Merlin, Potter, can't you do anything right?"

Harry elbowed him aside, reaching for the bottle himself. He was a little bit taller than Draco, although not by much, and he could almost grab it. "Just go back to your towel, Malfoy. I wouldn't want you to break a nail, or something."

His fingers had just wrapped around the bottle when Malfoy growled and shoved him. Harry lost his balance and tipped backwards, pulling Draco with him. They landed in a heap on the floor, the wind forced out of his lungs and his head smarting from where it had knocked painfully against the base of a cabinet. There was a crash of glass and then a curse--which he thought came from Malfoy, but in the confusion it could have been him, for all he knew--and then there was something cold all over him, seeping into his robes.

Harry glanced down at their entangled limbs, eyes growing wide behind his glasses. His robes were covered in a dark blue potion, which was slowly melting into the fabric. He could feel it brushing against his skin, cool and slimy, and shivered. Malfoy appeared to be covered in the stuff as well, and had recovered from their fall enough to throw Harry off of him.

"What is this stuff?" Harry asked, not really expecting an answer. He tried to brush it off of him, but by now it had already passed through his robes and seemed to be trying to seep into his skin.

"How the hell should I know?" Draco shot back, scrubbing furiously at his expensive robes, which now bore navy stains down the front. Giving up on this tactic, he unfastened the catch on the robes and pulled them off, dropping them in a heap on the floor. Harry was a little surprised by this, and noted that the clothes he wore underneath were just as expensive and pretentious as the robes themselves; a pair of sleek black slacks and a crisp white long sleeved shirt.

The shirt didn't look so nice anymore though, now that it was just as stained as the robes. He decided not to bother removing his own, since the clothes he wore underneath (from Dudley), were more than a little embarrassing. The last thing he needed was for Draco Malfoy to see him dressed up in clothes that were ten sizes too big.

"Shit," Draco swore, unbuttoning the top of his shirt so that he could see the skin beneath. "It went right through my skin."

Harry idly wondered if Draco's skin was covered in blue marks like his shirt--they were about the same shade of white, after all.

"That's none of your business, Potter," Draco growled. He blinked in surprise. Had he said that aloud? He was positive he hadn't, so what had Malfoy been talking about?

"What?"

"I said, that's none of your business. Just because you have an ugly farmer's tan doesn't mean that everyone should."

He blinked. "What the hell are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"You just asked me if I had stains on my skin. Jeez, Potter, what's your problem? Your memory going now, too?"

Harry frowned, suddenly getting a very bad feeling about this. "Malfoy... I didn't say that out loud."

Draco turned to pin a confused, exasperated glare on him. "What do you mean? Of course you did, how else could I have--"

He trailed off, looking down at his stained shirt with an expression akin to horror. Harry couldn't help but feel the same way, studying the blue marks that marred his own robes. A thought entered his mind, unbidden.

*How the hell am I going to explain this to Father?*

Harry swallowed thickly. That hadn't come from his mind.

******

"So you got some strange potion spilled on you in detention, which apparently formed some kind of telepathy between you and Malfoy," Hermione summed up. Harry nodded. Everyone who had been listening stared at him and Malfoy in wide-eyed shock. Hermione leveled him with a very disapproving Look. "And you didn't tell anyone."

Harry fiddled with his sleeve nervously, then pushed his glasses up his nose. "Um, actually, we did go to the infirmary. But Madam Pomfrey said it wasn't anything serious, and that the effects would probably disappear in a day or two."

"But that still doesn't explain why you didn't tell us."

"Well..." Harry trailed off, not quite sure how to explain it and feeling guilty. Keeping it a secret had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now that he was faced with his friends, who didn't seem to see the logic in it, he couldn't help feeling bad.

"The only ones who knew were Snape and Pomfrey," Draco cut in, having no problems continuing the story since he didn't have a conscience to deal with. "Although I suspect Dumbledore probably knows as well. After the telepathy got started, things got complicated rather quickly. We both knew things about the other one that could end up with one or both of us dead, not to mention endangering our friends and families."

Hermione's eyes widened in understanding, as she recognized the full danger of the situation. Harry smiled grimly. "So we both decided to keep our mouths shut about it. The telepathy was supposed to go away pretty quickly, and then we figured things would go back to normal. But I guess having to share a mind made us realize some things about each other, and because of that the telepathy didn't go away.

"We were both a little freaked out when it didn't, so we met up in the library and managed to look up the potion--luckily for us Snape knew what it was. We found out that a bond had apparently formed between our minds, making the telepathy permanent." Harry finished their story and took a deep breath, waiting to hear the others' reactions. A long pause stretched out between them, the voices of other students and the sound of the music playing softly in the background drifted back to him.

Finally, it was Hermione who spoke. The other Gryffindors seemed to be waiting for Ron and Hermione to say something before they expressed their own opinions. Harry couldn't help watching his two best friends as well, hoping that maybe the story would help them to understand.

"I guess... I guess it makes sense," Hermione said at last. She looked thoughtful. "But I wish you hadn't kept this a secret from us."

"I didn't want to," Harry replied. He glanced over at Draco, who was studying the people out on the dance floor with a carefully guarded disinterest. "But I did what I thought I had to. I had to promise to keep Draco's secrets in order to assure ours."

Ron glowered. "So you're saying he had full roam of your mind?"

"No. But, we can sometimes see each other's memories, and we can also see where the other one is, what they're looking at, hear conversations they have with other people." He paused, noticing Ron's face darken further. "It was weird at first, but I guess we've both gotten used to it now, and we've learned how to respect each other's privacy."

Draco smirked. "Usually."

Conversation finally broke out between the rest of their group, and Harry found himself bombarded by questions once again. This time he didn't mind so much though, and Draco was content to glare at the rest of the Great Hall and let the Gryffindors talk. After awhile Harry couldn't help feeling tired; most of their group had finally broken up to dance or talk to other people.

He moved over to where Draco was leaning back against a table, and sighed. "So what's up with the Slytherins? Howcome we haven't seen any of them? Aside from Crabbe and Goyle, anyway."

Draco nodded in the direction of a large group of his housemates, who had taken up a corner of the hall and were keeping mostly to themselves. "The entire chain of power just got royally screwed up. It will probably be a week or two before everything gets back to normal again. Thanks to our relationship, I've probably lost my place in the house. Doesn't really matter though; at least I've still got Vince and Gregory for bodyguards in case the rest of them decide to lynch me."

"Look on the bright side," Harry said, and paused a moment to decide for himself if there actually was a bright side. "Maybe what you did will be a good example for other Slytherins. If a Malfoy can go against tradition and pureblood beliefs and all that, then maybe some of them will be able to do the same."

Draco frowned. "I'm not going against pureblood beliefs. I still believe a lot of the same things my family taught me. I just don't agree with the Dark Lord's actions."

"I know," Harry assured him. "We went over this. But you were able to go against what most purebloods think is the right thing to do: join Voldemort. So maybe some other students will be able to do that, too."

"Harry," Draco grumbled, "if you think I'm going to start recruiting Slytherins for the side of light, or whatever, you're mad."

Harry laughed, trying not to picture Draco in a uniform trying to sell unsuspecting first years Dumbledore's propaganda. Draco caught the thought and glared at him.

"Potter. Just one question."

"Yes?"

"Why the Hitler's Youth uniform?"

Harry grinned at him and decided that it was in his best interest not to answer that question. He glanced longingly at the door, then turned back to Draco. "Let's go."

"Go? We've only been here an hour."

"Who cares?" Harry took his hand, leading him towards the door. "C'mon. I promise I'll make it worth the trouble."

Draco glanced back, decided he wasn't missing much, and allowed Harry to pull him out of the Great Hall. "I'm holding you to that."

******

As many people had observed over the years, Hogwarts at night was a very different place. The halls seemed to hold something sinister in their shadowed depths, entirely unlike the brightly lit corridors during the day. The grounds experienced much the same transformation. But within the gardens that came up to meet the lake, Harry found that the darkness took on more beautiful intricacy, no longer evil but riddled, as dark as secrets.

This was where he took Draco after they left the Great Hall that night. In the soft moonlight, amidst the snow, the other boy seemed to be a part of the garden itself. Harry felt awkward, like he didn't quite fit in here. He watched Draco closely, the way his pale skin and silver hair became one with its white backdrop. They found a stone bench beneath a weeping willow in the middle of the garden, and after they had brushed away the snow, sat down there.

"It's so quiet here," Harry whispered, his breath forming hot clouds in the still air. Draco leaned against him, and he smiled, resting his head against the other boy's. Their hands met where they rested against the stone space between them, and their fingers intertwined.

"Not like the Great Hall, with all that bloody music," Draco muttered. Harry rolled his eyes. Draco never cared much for pop music, be it muggle or wizarding; preferred something more classical. Harry thought this was all very typical. Draco glanced back up at the castle for a moment, before returning his gaze to the silent garden. "That went fairly well."

"Mm," Harry agreed, starting to feel sleepy despite the fact that it was rather cold outside. "Yeah, at least Ron didn't kill you. That would've been a shame."

"It's nice to know you care, Potter."

Harry kissed his temple. "You know, I'm willing to bet that at least half of the loving thoughts you've got in there are probably your own."

"And for years you seemed to think I was heartless."

"Oh, I don't know about that. You were a git, all right, but everybody's got a heart in them somewhere. It's just a matter of finding it."

Draco scrunched up his nose unbecomingly. "That's disgusting."

Harry laughed. "Draco?"

"What?"

"I love you."

Draco just smiled. "I know."