Nied is Not Enough

Chapter Six

Harry stayed in his chair until about 6:45 that evening thinking about how to handle the situation with Morgan. He could relate to her in that he also had no parents, but how did the woman die? What kind of life did Morgan have outside the magical world? Where would she go during the summers? He gave up trying to answer the questions and morosely headed toward the staffroom for his meeting with Malfoy.

"Ah, Harry, I'm glad you made it. Thought you might stay in the Dungeons all night again," Malfoy said from a chair in front of the blue-flamed fireplace. He wasn't wearing his usual robes, but a pair of black slacks and a closely-fitting forest green sweater. He was sitting comfortably with a glass of dark wine in his hand. Several papers were set out in front of him on the coffee table. "I was just going over some of our student's progress reports for the year so far. Would you like to have a look at them?" He motioned for Harry to sit in the other chair.

Harry noticed how the blue flames made Draco's eyes look like they used to: a clear silvery blue. His features were highlighted by the flame and shadow and Harry had to keep himself from staring. It's Malfoy. It's Malfoy. Must work. Sit down.

"How are they doing so far?" Harry finally brought himself to ask without sounding perturbed. He picked up a stack of reports and thumbed mindlessly through them.

"Fine, I suppose. No real problems," Draco had gone across the room and filled his wine glass again. He brought the wine decanter and another glass for Harry. He set it on the table between them and filled it about halfway. Harry glanced up at Draco raised his eyebrow. "Don't worry, Potter. I'm not going to poison you. I'm drinking from the same wine."

Harry 'humphed' and took the glass from the table. The two men discussed the students in their house, the rules that might need to be looked at more closely and the death of Morgan Wolfe's mother. Draco was obviously uncomfortable discussing the child's loss. "We'll have to deal with that when she returns," he finally said after staring at his again-empty wine glass for a minute.

Harry found that speaking to Draco was not as difficult as it seemed, as long as he didn't look directly at him while doing so. If he did look, he couldn't help but stare. Draco filled both wine glasses for the fourth time and Harry was beginning to feel a bit fuzzy.

"You know, Malfoy, you're not as big an ass as I had hoped," Harry let slip after he downed the fourth glass. "What is this stuff, anyway?"

Draco simply chuckled and filled Harry's glass again. "It's from my private collection. An '83 Merlot from France. It's older than we are." He looked at Harry across the table and smiled widely.

Harry turned his face to look at Draco. He couldn't help but smile back. His muscles had loosened from the wine, as did his tongue. "You know, Malfoy, I was wondering when it was you decided to stop being such a prat."

Draco brought his hand up to his face and rested his chin on his thumb. "Quite awhile ago, actually." His eyes twinkled and he smirked. "I'm wondering when you decided to become Snape."

Harry, taken aback by the statement, looked at Draco with his mouth hanging open. "I am most certainly not like him!"

"Well, the students talk about you like we used to talk about Snape."

"What do you mean, 'we?' You were his pet! I'm the one he endlessly tortured!" Harry sat forward and slammed his wineglass on the coffee table.

Draco smiled again. "I suppose you're right, Potter. But still, you're gaining his reputation quickly." Draco set his empty glass down on the coffee table.

"I suppose I am a bit prickly. But it's for good reason," Harry sneered.

"And what reason is that, Mr. Potter?" Draco looked at him captivatingly.

Harry watched as Draco smoothed his palms against each other. "I, well, I, erm, it's just that, well- it's none of your damned business, Malfoy." Harry was tensing under Draco's gaze.

"I see. Well. I'm heading back down to the Dungeons. Would you like to walk with me?" Draco held out a hand to help Harry stand up. Without thinking about it, Harry lifted his hand toward Draco's. He caught himself quickly, though, and jerked his hand away.

"I can get up by myself, thank you. But I'll walk with you. Prat."

"Snape."

"Git."

"Scarhead."

Harry glared at the man in front of him, but his insides were smiling.

The two stumbled down the halls, catching themselves on the wall or a stray suit of armor. One of the Gryffindor prefects gave them questioning looks as they walked past. "Five points from Gryffindor for that look, Mr. Cullen," Harry snapped and the prefect dropped his eyes.

"Now, that was Slytherin of you, Professor Potter," Draco looked at Harry in amazement. Harry simply shrugged.

The two men continued their insults all the way down to the Dungeons' entrance, with a few, "Oh, that's a good one," or "can't you come up with a better one than that?" thrown in. After gaining entrance, they turned towards their respective rooms. Harry stopped and turned toward the blond.

"Erm, Malfoy?" He shyly asked. Draco stopped and turned toward Harry. "Thanks for the potions. You know, for my dreams."

"Not a problem. And you can call me Draco," he smiled at Harry. "Besides, a man could get bloody tired of all that screaming." Draco looked at Harry from his shoes all the way up to his face, then turned and glided toward his door.

Harry felt a chill go up his spine at the last look Draco gave him. He watched the man disappear into his rooms, pushed himself away from the wall he didn't even realize he was using to prop himself up, and entered his own rooms.

The sweet taste of wine still rolled in his mouth as he flung himself onto the bed. He could hardly believe that he had spent the last, what was it, three hours (!) with Draco Malfoy and actually had a good time. Maybe Malfoy really had changed. Maybe Harry really was supposed to be in Slytherin. "Maybe, I'm just drunk." He answered outloud. He wriggled himself free of his clothes and into bed. He set his glasses on the bed stand next to the new bottle of sleeping draught. Without taking it, he rolled onto his back and fell quietly into sleep.

Harry was back in the staffroom talking with Draco about the students. The fireplace was much larger and produced more heat. As Harry drank more wine, he became increasingly stifled. He removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. With his eyes closed, he was lost in his own thoughts. He felt a hand on his own as he held his wineglass. The skin was incredibly smooth and cooling on his own rough, dry hand. Silky fingertips traced up the inside of Harry's arm. The sensation was exceptionally maddening. Draco had gotten up from his chair and moved behind Harry's, dragging his fingertips further up Harry's arm to his shoulder. Harry kept his eyes closed as the cool palms slid down the front of his shirt to his chest. He could feel Draco's breath against his neck. His own breath sped up as Draco's hands cooled his skin. The blond man whispered, "I know it was you..."

Harry woke with a start. He could still feel Draco's hands on his chest. He grasped for his glasses and looked around the room. The sun was peeking through one of Harry's high windows and lighting his bedroom with a nice autumn glow. He sat up and rubbed his head with his hands, realizing that it was pounding. He definitely needed some water. After a long shower and a filling breakfast, Harry decided to head to Hogsmeade to pick up a few essentials, maybe have a look around.

The autumn air was crisp which made Harry glad his jacket had a self controlling temperature charm on it. The road on which he walked was surrounded by beautifully changing trees: reds, golds, deep purples and greens surrounded him. He couldn't help but to breathe in deeply and fill his lungs with the sweet smell of decaying leaves. Harry felt really good for the first time in quite awhile. He remembered the conversations that he and Draco had the night before, the warming wine and the general ease he felt during the evening. His strides became shorter and he slowed to enjoy the morning unwrapping around him.

"Harry! Wait up!" Ron was running up to meet him. His face was red with running as he stopped at Harry's side. "Nice to see you, mate. Didn't think you were ever coming out of the Dungeons." Ron gave a half-grin as they continued walking.

They talked about their students for a while, telling stories about the ridiculousness of young witches and wizards. Ron told Harry a story which involved a run away broom attached to one child's robes. Before they knew it, both men had to stop to catch their breath from laughing.

"It's great to see you smile, Harry," Ron finally said after fully catching his breath. "Hermione and I are meeting for lunch at the Three Broomsticks at one. It'd be great if you'd join us."

Harry pondered the offer for a moment and asked, "Since when are you two getting along?"

"Well, since you've been hiding in the Dungeons, mate," they continued walking. "As soon as I saw her come into the Great Hall that night, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I've been bugging her since then. It's nothing serious yet. But really, how could she not forgive me? I mean look at me!" Ron had stopped and made some ridiculous pose and had a cheesy grin stretched across his face. Harry just rolled his eyes and let a chortle escape his lips.

"First thing, Ron, lose the cheese. I doubt you'll convince anyone with that."

Ron let the smile slide from his face and his shoulders drooped. "You're right mate. It's just that, well, I have really been an ass, you know? I mean, Hermione was the greatest thing I could have asked for. I was just too enthralled to be where I was to notice her anymore." A forlorn look crossed his face and he kicked a stone on the path.

"Give it time, Ron," Harry patted his old friend's shoulder as they entered the village. The two went their separate ways, Ron still kicking at the road and Harry putting on his serious face. Give it time, Harry thought to himself.

He kept going over the meaning of the new Slytherin password. He wondered if Dumbledore was implying that he needed to close the space between him and Draco or between himself and the rest of the school. He remembered that the rune of necessity is ruled by Saturn which is the task master planet. The hermit must make personal sacrifice. Self-deprivation can be a useful learning tool and inner strength is built on acceptance of the vicissitudes of life and not the resistance of. He had given up by choice the component of living which was the most difficult. He had given up emotion and attachment. He had given up physical contact and trust. He made himself a machine, as cold and unbending as steel. Harry felt a pain in his heart at the thought of this. An emptiness which was always there, but he tried to ignore, flooded his chest cavity.

All these thoughts ran through his head as he went from shop to shop. He remembered Draco's hand from the Leaky Cauldron, how incredibly warm it had been, how nice it was to feel someone else's magic wash over him. He remembered his dream from the night before, how Draco's hands were smooth and cool against his sweltering skin. Why is this all about Draco? He asked himself. He found an empty alley with a wall and started lightly hitting his forehead against the bricks.

"You all right, there?" A low silky voice traveled down the alley.

Harry stopped hitting his head and turned in the direction of the voice. "Well, speak of the devil."

"What was that?" Draco raised his eyebrow to Harry.

"Nothing." Harry felt suddenly like a young girl swooning over Ron Weasley.

"Hermione sent me to find you. It's after one and we are supposed to be eating now."

"No longer a filthy mudblood, is she?" Harry looked at his former enemy skeptically. "And since when were you invited to lunch?"

"I'm telling you, Harry, I'm a changed man." He looked at Harry with slightly hurt but sincere eyes. "Hermione invited me earlier this morning. She and I walked together from Hogwarts."

"I don't know about you Draco Malfoy." Harry continued looking at him quizzically, but stepped away from the wall and walked down to the Three Broomsticks with Malfoy.

Hermione and Ron were already sitting in a booth inside. They sat across from each other and were talking seriously when Draco announced, "I found him beating his head against the wall."

Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, who had a red patch on his forehead. Hermione raised her eyebrow, and then smiled. Harry was a little flustered by having to sit directly across from Draco but remembered the previous night when talking with him was enjoyable. At least sitting across from him would keep him from accidentally touching Draco and having him recognize the residual signature from the communication magic. The four ordered lunch and resumed small talk while they waited. Oddly, Harry and Draco ordered the same thing: roast lamb with boiled potatoes.

"So, Harry, how is it to be in Slytherin?" Hermione looked directly at him from across the table.

Everyone in the booth stopped moving and awaited a response from Harry. He glanced around and very nonchalantly answered, "Well, honestly, Hermione, it's not so different from being in Gryffindor, except this prat is on my side, now." He motioned to Draco. The other three at the table looked at each other and suddenly burst out laughing. Draco looked incredible when he laughed. He looked more genuine at that moment than Harry had ever remembered seeing him. Harry looked at the other people at his table and kept a straight face. They went back to eating and discussing the upcoming Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"So, who's side are you cheering for, Harry?" Ron asked with a mouthful of broccoli.

"I suppose I will keep that to myself, thank you. Although I think both teams will play well." Harry pushed the food around on his plate. He remembered the several matches he played in against Malfoy. Both had been exceptional seekers during their time at Hogwarts. Harry was a natural and Draco did have to work at it a little bit, however, by the time their seventh year rolled around, Harry really had to concentrate to beat Malfoy. "The best team will surely win."

Draco shot Harry a sneer and Harry returned with a half-grin. Malfoy excused himself from the table and headed to the back of the Three Broomsticks. Ron followed suit.

"It seems that you two are getting along quite well, since that ridiculous display at the start of the year feast," Hermione leaned across the table toward Harry.

"I don't know if I can trust him, though, Hermione. He certainly acts differently than he used to, but I just don't know."

"Harry," Hermione said with utter seriousness, "I've worked with him on and off for the past four years. He and I studied together after Hogwarts for potions. He, well, he is not the same as he used to be. As soon as he got back from wherever it was, he had a sort of new respect for people. I mean he's still an arrogant bastard, but, that's just part of him. He actually apologized for calling me a mudblood." Hermione had that same convincing look about her that she did when they were students. She knew what she was talking about.

"So what's with you and Weasley? I thought that you were done with him," Harry was now the inquisitor.

"He really is a useless piece of work, isn't he," Hermione watched almost dreamily as Ron made his way around the other tables with four new butterbeers.

Ron slammed himself next to Harry pushing him into the corner. "Thought we all might like another." He cast a cheesy grin toward Hermione. She rolled her eyes. She noticed Harry staring toward the back of the pub. His eyes were sort of glazed and he looked almost sad. She watched his face as it turned back toward the table and Malfoy sat down. During the rest of the meal, she kept glancing at Harry catching on rather quickly to his preoccupied state of mind. The meal ended peaceably, minus the few short remarks Hermione made to Ron.