Nied is Not Enough

Chapter 9

Friday morning, Harry awoke early, feeling much refreshed. He left for the Great Hall to eat. He felt lighter this morning than he had for years. Draco sat at the end of the table and eyed Harry as he walked between the tables to the staff table. Harry took his seat next to Draco who still looked quite tired. Ron and Hermione waved at him from the other side of Dumbledore and Harry waved back. Some of the early-rising students eyed him during the meal. He had no idea what Dumbledore had told them about the screaming and why he had missed class all week. It didn't much matter anyway.

Some of the cuts still stung a bit, but other than that, Harry felt pretty good. It was as though a planet of regret had been lifted from his shoulders. The autumn sun shone through the windows in the Great Hall: it seemed to be calling to Harry to go outside.

"I was wondering, Mr. Malfoy, if you'd like to take a walk with me before classes start this morning?" Harry asked the blond next to him. Where did that just come from? Must be the blood loss or the salve or the...

Draco was in mid-bite when Harry asked the question. His eyes slightly widened as he finished his bite of toast. "Yes, I suppose, Mr. Potter."

Whew! "Alright, then. Finish up." Harry pushed himself away from the table and stood. "We only have about an hour." Harry began shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"My, my. We are cheerful this morning," Draco said as he leisurely sipped his coffee. He set down his cup, wiped the corners of his mouth, and stood. His dark cloak was neatly folded across the back of his chair. He wrapped himself in it and closed it around his shoulders with a beautifully ornate Celtic knot fastener at his neck. Harry watched Draco's every movement with utter pleasure.

Harry glanced down the table at the other staff. Dumbledore simply toasted the air toward Harry with his water goblet. Hermione grinned like mad and Ron gave an exasperatedly questioning look and then leaned in toward Hermione. The two nodded to the staff members and took their leave from the Great Hall.

The grounds of Hogwarts were covered in a crystalline frost which the sun reflected, giving everything a silvery glow. Harry took in a deep breath when they stepped outside into the chilly air. They both looked around at the morning and Harry finally asked, "The lake?"

Draco nodded and they headed down the path. They walked in silence until they reached the shore. Harry stood at the water's edge with a crooked grin on his face. Draco looked at him sideways.

"Who are you, today?" Draco asked. "Surely you're not Harry Potter. He doesn't know how to smile."

Harry turned toward the man before him, actually smiled and looked around at the sky. "I don't know, to be honest. I feel, erm, well...alive." Harry bent down and picked up a flat stone from the shore. He pulled his arm back and sent the stone skipping across the water. He placed his hands on his hips, obviously pleased with himself.

"Not, bad, Potter," Draco still looked at him a bit confused.

Harry picked up another stone and sent it out. This one plunked down in the water without so much as one good skip. Draco guffawed.

"You try it, then, Malfoy."

Taking the challenge, Draco unclasped his cloak and handed it to Harry. He picked three stones and sent each one skipping much further than Harry's first had gone.

"I lived on an island for several years. Not much to do there in my free time."

Harry felt a bit of frustration begin, but let it go. "Ah."

"It's not bad though, Potter. It's all in the release." Draco flicked his hand as though he were sending another stone flying. He took the cloak from Harry and put it back on. They walked a bit around the edge of the lake.

There were so many things Harry wanted to ask Draco about that final night of the war, so many things he wanted to say. He couldn't bring himself to do so at the moment. He was just enjoying the other man's company and the fresh November morning. He wrinkled his forehead in thought.

"Something on your mind?" Draco asked as he bent to pick up another stone.

"Actually, yes." Harry looked at the man squatting next to him searching for more skipping stones. "I, erm, was wondering..." Harry had no idea how to ask the question. "It's just that, well..."

Draco gracefully stood and faced Harry. Their breath mingled in the air between them and faded. "The best way to ask is to actually form a question."

Harry took in a quick breath as Draco's eyes met his own. "That night...at the Leaky Cauldron...it was my birthday and, oh, gods." Harry broke eye contact with Draco and looked down at the ground.

Draco bent his neck to try and regain the eye contact. He reached his hand to Harry's shoulder and led him to stand straight. "I knew it was you, Harry. I've felt your signature before." With his free hand, he placed it on his robes where his skewed cross scar was on his chest. "It just took me a bit to remember."

Harry's chest was rising and falling at the touch of this man. He knew! Why didn't he tell Hermione? Harry felt slightly queasy knowing that Draco knew all along and had been playing him the fool. It didn't seem to matter, though.

Draco moved the hand that had been covering his scar and placed it on Harry's other shoulder. They were at arm's length to one another and Harry's breathing increased.

"I figured it out right after our last handshake. You're pretty hard to forget, Harry." Draco looked through Harry's glasses into bright green eyes. "I didn't know what my effect on you was, however." He stepped painfully close to Harry, their foreheads almost touching.

Harry had never felt so explosive before in his life: so completely out of control. He could feel the heat radiating from Draco's body. He wanted so badly to lean forward so slightly and feel the warmth of Draco's skin on his own. He looked back and forth at those staggering hazel eyes. "W-we better get back. Classes will be starting soon," he breathlessly whispered.

Harry felt Draco's left hand leave his shoulder and the warm fingertips brushed against the skin on Harry's neck. He half-closed his eyes and opened them again.

"Yeah." Draco was breathing faster than normal as well. "Can't keep the students waiting." He dropped his hands from Harry and took a step backward.

Harry turned and began briskly walking back up the path. Draco stood for a moment and let out a heavy breath. He too began walking.

Harry remained a few steps in front the entire walk back to the castle. A ferocious surge of adrenaline rushed through his arms and legs, making them feel almost numb as he strode. He could feel Draco's eyes on him as he walked, making him want to walk a bit faster. They reached the castle entrance quite quickly. The men shook off the cold in the entry hall and nodded to each other to take leave.

Harry grabbed Draco's arm before the blond could turn completely toward the entrance to the Dungeons. "Um, Draco," What am I doing? "I was wondering if you'd like to have another meeting about our house this evening?" Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Draco looked from the hand which was holding his arm to its owner's face. "I suppose we could discuss some things." His eyebrows shot up quickly and returned to their normal position as he smiled slyly at Harry. "How about my rooms, this time? Say nine-thirty?"

Before Harry had the chance to answer, Draco was striding toward the Dungeon entrance and disappeared down the corridor. Harry looked around the entrance hall and saw the Gryffindor prefect, Brian Cullen, standing with his jaw slack in the doorway to the Great Hall. Brian snapped his jaw shut and returned to the Great Hall before Professor Potter had the chance to take any more house points away from him. Harry chuckled and bounded up the stairs to his classroom.

*****

Harry couldn't concentrate during his classes. His thoughts kept wandering back to the lake shore and Draco's hands on his shoulders, their faces almost touching. He had most of his classes read from their textbooks for the day so he could thoroughly assess what had transpired.

Harry had never thought of himself as anything more than plain old Harry. He wondered if Draco really was playing him the fool or if he really saw something in Harry. He thought of the look Draco gave him after their first co-head of house meeting and the chills again ran up Harry's spine.

Harry gazed out the window of his classroom at the darkening sky. He remembered Dumbledore's advice: life is choice. It's when everything horrible and beautiful comes together that we are really living. He took the heartstone out of his pocket and let it spin on his hand. He let flow everything he thought about Draco: the prat from his days as a student, the eighteen year old that put his life on the line to save Harry's, the man he was beginning to know now. They seemed like different people to Harry. Beautiful and horrible. Balanced and unequal. Arrogant and sincere.

A few of the fourth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws watched their professor in wonder as the heartstone spun in his hand. It began a jumble of color and steadily grew brighter and whiter in his palm. It lit the classroom with its intensity. When the bell rang, he had the student's rapt attention. He looked out over the sea of dazed faces not realizing the effect it had on the students. He closed his hand around the spinning stone and the room was back to its normal light. The students quietly gathered their books and quills. After they all filed out, he saw that Hermione was leaning against the doorway.

"That was quite a show, Harry." She had four or five books gathered in her arms. She took a few steps into the classroom and let them drop to the nearest desk. Harry stared at her as she made her way to the front of the classroom.

"I, uh, suppose this was a lesson?" She asked with an air of mockery.

"Nah. Just thinking. I had 'em reading today." Harry smiled at his old friend and was suddenly reminded of the years they spent as students.

"Aha. Well, Professor, you had them all entranced."

Harry tossed the stone in the air, caught it and put it back in his pocket. Hermione smiled.

"So, uh, what happened the other night, Harry? No one's heard from you all week and you've refused to let us near you." She raised her eyebrows at her old friend. "We were all pretty surprised to hear that you were in the hospital wing covered in charmed glass wounds. Do you have any idea how difficult that stuff is to shatter?" Hermione sat on the desk directly in front of Harry's.

"It's a long story. You sure you want to hear it?"

"Classes are over for the day, my friend. I've got just about two hours. Go."

Harry began with his nightmares of the war, the heartstone Dumbledore had given him and the sudden realization that Draco saved his life. Hermione listened attentively as Harry told her of the resurfaced memory of the night Voldemort fell. He told her about why he decided to become an auror and why he chose to separate himself from everything he had known. He recounted the night at the Leaky Cauldron and the first impression he had of Draco, the man; the communication that he himself had sent and the initial feelings he had for the blond. She nodded and said nothing as he spoke. He told her about what happened with the heartstone in the moonlight and how he had really just given up being human until his life was played out in front of him on a million points of light. He talked about his feelings for Draco and his utter confusion on the matter.

"Harry, listen. If you're worried that Draco is a man, don't." She finally interjected.

"It's not that, though. I mean, gods, Hermione." That bothered him at first, but not nearly as much as the fact that it was Draco Malfoy. "I don't know how to do this! I've never even considered something like this before." Harry was beginning to get frustrated.

"By this do you mean a relationship?"

"By this I mean all of it. I just don't know what the hell I'm doing is all. I already told you that I cut myself off from living. All of this is part of living and I don't know if I can do it." Harry had stood up and was pacing the front of the classroom and running his hands through his hair. "I didn't even bother after Cho because I don't understand any of it."

Hermione watched her old friend pacing back and forth. She walked to him and put her hands on his chest to stop him from moving. "There's nothing to understand, Harry. Don't analyze everything all the time. Just let it be what ever it is." She looked at him acutely.

"Yeah, this coming from the bookworm," Harry snorted.

She looked hurt at that comment. "Not everything in my life is about books, Harry." She pulled her hands away from his chest.

"I'm sorry. This is all really new to me, you know? How is ol' 'useless piece of work,' anyway?"

Hermione chuckled and smacked Harry on the arm. "We aren't talking about him right now." She looked dreamily off into space for a moment and jumped back into reality. "What you need to do is to make sure you aren't going to miss an opportunity. I mean, if nothing comes from this with Draco, at least you know you tried. Right? At least you'll have lived some."

Harry felt a well of energy and hope spring up inside him. "You're right. I'm tired of being dead."

Hermione laughed outloud and threw her arms around her old friend's neck. "Come on. Ron's expecting us for dinner in a few minutes. Oh, by the way, do you want to have dinner with us in the hall? I mean if you would rather sulk away the night..."

Harry grabbed the woman around the neck with his arm and rubbed his knuckles into her head. She screamed and slapped at his back until he let go. The cuts were still a little sore, after all.

Hermione straightened out her quite-mussed hair and gave Harry a sarcastically dirty look. He couldn't help but grin at her.

"When I said I missed the old Harry, I was lying," she said as she rubbed her head in the sore spot. "Punk."

They left the classroom and headed to the Great Hall for dinner. All through the meal, Hermione shot dirty looks at Harry at the other end of the table. Ron picked up on this and looked down to Harry who just shrugged and mouthed "what?" He pointed at Hermione when she looked away, pointed his finger at the side of his head and made a circular motion. He mouthed "she's crazy." Ron spit out the pumpkin juice that was in his mouth and laughed into his napkin. Harry sat back in his seat, laced his fingers behind his head and grinned at the world.

The sounds of the meal echoed through the Great Hall. Harry looked at Draco sitting next to him. He was reading over a pile of essays and hadn't really said a word to Harry. Harry's smile slightly faded and he leaned to look over the blonde's shoulder at the essay. He smelled like musk and earth. Harry inhaled deeply which got Draco's attention.

He carefully set down the quill he was holding and sat up facing Harry, who was now sitting against the back of his chair again. "Something I can help you with, Potter?"

"Just wondering what you're reading." Harry released his hands from behind his head and stretched his arms out to both sides behind the chairs. When he brought his arms back in, he lightly slid his fingers along Draco's back.

Draco's eyelids fluttered for a second and he remarked, "Basic potions essay about the dangers of mixing, erm, things that generally wouldn't be mixed." He winked at Harry and gathered his pile of essays. Just before he stood to leave, he leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Nine-thirty, Mr. Potter. We have some things to discuss."

Harry let the blonde's voice wash over him. He reveled in the silky sound until it hit him that he would be going to Draco's rooms in just about, (!) two hours. Relax, Harry. Just relax. Let it be what it will. He darted from the Great Hall and down to the Dungeons and finally his rooms.

He jumped into a very hot shower and let the water slide over him, relaxing his quite tense muscles. He was very careful washing so the salve wouldn't be wiped away. A ridiculous giddiness filled his stomach, which he tried to combat with seriousness. He grabbed the towel hanging by the shower and rubbed it frantically over his head. Steam from the shower covered the mirror in the bathroom and Harry rubbed the towel across the glass. He looked at his smeared reflection and the tousled mess on his head. He opened a drawer and began digging around in it. He finally found what he was looking for: Dap Hair Pomade For Those Wizards Whose Tresses Are Less Than Ruly. Harry had it to use for some of his disguises. He unscrewed the lid and slopped some into his hand, rubbed his hands together and then through his hair. He grabbed the comb and dragged it through the mess on his head. Sufficiently slicked, he shaved and brushed his teeth. Twice.

Harry glanced at the clock in the bathroom and realized he only had an hour before his meeting with Draco. He rushed into his bedroom and flung the doors open on his wardrobe.

"Dress robes, too fancy. Um, slacks and a shirt? Too stiff." The hangers clicked against each other as he rummaged through his clothes. "Comfort. That's what I'm looking for." He dug around until he found his favorite pair of jeans and a sweater similar to the one he had worn to the Leaky Cauldron. This one, however, was rich green which brought his eyes out even more. The color contrasted well against his light skin and dark hair. Should be okay, he thought as he checked himself over in the mirror a few times. Gods! I am such a girl! His hair had gone back to its original messiness and he tried to slick it down again to no avail. Now, all he had to do was wait for nine-thirty (which was at least another half an hour).

He flung himself into one of the chairs in front of the fireplace. He closed his eyes and the images of Draco swam in his mind: the grace in which he carried himself, the fluidity of his movement, the silkiness of his voice. Harry was lost in thought and memory for the remaining thirty minutes.