Ambivalent Lucidity

Draco could not breathe. He was naked, thrown hard up against a cold dungeon wall that cut grooves into his back and sent drops of green slime oozing down the length of his spine and sliding down his legs. Gooseflesh had risen all over him, the hair on his arms and legs sticking straight out in a desperate attempt for warmth, but when it came, Draco struggled against his shackles and yelled with the futile hope that someone, anyone would hear. A cold hand slapped over his mouth, tasting of blood and grime, and Draco gagged as cool lips pressed to his neck, that hand forcing his head to the side so sharp teeth could graze the thin, pale flesh flecked with dungeon filth. Draco tugged against his shackles again, as though one more time would save him.

"Now, now," his captor whispered in his ear, breath warm and vile, "Draco, I'm coming to suspect that you are uncomfortable? You're going to damage your pretty little wrists like that, and I certainly don't want that...They'll be holding you up later." Draco felt bile creeping up his throat, and he kicked out at the other man. "So feisty..." He delivered a strong punch to Draco's gut, stepping back as the impact forced the vomit that was already filling Draco's esophagus to spray from Draco's lips. "Aw, baby's got a stomachache..."

Draco gave a horrible, wet cough and yelped as he was slapped in the face. "What do you want from me?!" he burst, tears streaming down his face, and when his captor jerked him by the hair, he gave a sob and prepared himself for the inevitable punch to the jaw.

"I want to fuck you, Draco," the voice came, harsh and gritty, and Draco squeezed his eyes shut as he found himself forced around, his shoulders ripped from their sockets, and he pressed his face against the grimy wall while trying to think of a better place. By the time he was violated, without any aid whatsoever, he was no longer there.

Draco sat up suddenly in bed with a strangled yelp and a terrible start. He found himself trembling and pouring cold sweat, and when he felt someone move beside him, he jerked and nearly fainted. Hands searched all over the blanket, trying to figure out where he was, and when his hand touched someone else's, he squeaked in terror and looked for a way out.

Harry's eyes opened when Draco touched him, and he felt Draco thrashing, panicking, and he sat up to take him by the shoulders. "Draco, Draco," he whispered softly, feeling Draco struggling against his grip, and he forcefully pulled him in close. "It's Harry. Shh...Bollocks, you're soaking wet." He felt Draco freeze up for a moment, and while he thought Draco's personalities had switched, when the blonde collapsed against him and quivered, Harry strongly suspected it was still the actual Draco. Harry grabbed his wand and cast a Silencing Charm on the bed so Draco would not wake up the other sleepers, and he murmured, "Lumos!" so he might see his companion. "It's all right...You were having nightmares..."

Draco pressed himself into Harry's chest and wrapped his arms around his neck, gulping and shuddering as he struggled to get closer. A warm hand threaded through his hair, sliding down to the back of his neck and giving it a massaging squeeze, and Draco heaved a heavy sob against Harry's collarbone. "F-fuck," he choked, and he allowed himself to weep against Harry's neck until the other pushed him back a little and cupped his cheek.

"Let's get you into some dry pyjamas, okay?" Harry asked, and when Draco shakily nodded, Harry disappeared for a moment outside the bed before returning with a warm pair of flannel pants. "You don't have another shirt, I'm afraid..." He reached out and unbuttoned Draco's shirt, sliding it from his shoulders in the dark, and he tossed it carelessly outside of the bed before gesturing to Draco's pants. "I'll let you take care of that," he whispered, and he smiled a little as Draco slipped out of the bed, pants in hand, and he returned a few moments later in new pants and a new pair of boxers peeking over the waistband. "There you are..." He waved his wand to dry Draco's side of the bed, not envying his night sweats, and he made sure the drapes on the bed were shut tight before he reached out to pull Draco close. "...Are you all right?"

Draco wiped the remnants of tears from his cheeks before shakily pressing himself against Harry, allowing the other to lie down and pull him onto his chest. He rested his cheek in the hollow of Harry's shoulder, his arm lying across his stomach and his legs tangled with the other's, and he nodded his head. "I-I think so. I didn't mean to wake you up; I was panicking, and I...I..." His eyes slipped closed and he fell silent as he felt Harry kissing the top of his sweaty hair, and he sought out Harry's other hand beneath the blanket. Upon finding it, he laced their fingers almost roughly and clung to him, breath catching in his throat at the feeling of Harry doing such a thing.

"It's okay," Harry claimed softly in the dark, letting his wand extinguish and tucking it beneath his pillow before he released Draco's hand to wrap both arms strongly about him. "You shouldn't apologise for something you have no control over, Draco." He squeezed the blonde before untangling their legs and rolling onto his side so he could face him, and he lifted a hand to brush a string of hair from his cheek. "What were your nightmares?"

Draco's eyes widened slightly at Harry moving so they were facing each other so closely, and at the question, he looked down at the mattress. "I was, er, locked up in a dungeon and...and..." He shook his head insistently before looking Harry in the eyes. "M-memories that are best left alone..." He saw the look of horror in Harry's expression even in the dark, and he squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see it. "Don't..."

Harry was faced with a dilemma-should he press Draco about it or not? The sight of Draco with his eyes slammed shut in an attempt to forget suggested that he should leave it for now, and he reached out to brush his cheek. "I won't," he whispered, and he smiled as Draco nodded and moved up to rest his head on the pillow. His hand slid over to rub the curve of Draco's bare side, feeling the ribs beneath the skin with his fingertips, and he blushed as Draco slid a hair closer to him at the contact. His rough palm slid over Draco's side and onto his back, fingering his spine from his lower back to his shoulders, and when Draco shuddered, Harry leaned in close to touch the tips of their noses, and their stomachs came flush together by default.

Draco's nightmare rushed to the back of his memory as Harry pressed so close, and he brought his hands up to Harry's chest in case he found he might like to push him away, but his hand slid down to cup Harry's sharp hip, and when Harry's hand moved into his hair to cradle the back of his head, he opened his eyes and looked into his companion's. He could taste Harry's breath on his own lips, and it seemed that they lay there for eons holding one another before Harry closed the gap between them and brushed a kiss very softly along Draco's lower lip. The touch was so light Draco wondered if he had imagined it, but there it was again, and he felt his heart rate double when Harry took that lip between his own and suckled it gently. "Mmmn..." Draco fought his body for control, wanting to throw himself into the kiss and shove his tongue down Harry's throat, but he managed to stave it off and merely leaned closer, crushing their lips together and wrapping his arms tightly about Harry as he opened his mouth against him. He felt Harry's tongue brush his, and he met it with his own, whimpering at the warmth it provided. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck rose, and when they parted for air, Draco's eyes opened and he stared into the eyes before him with bated breath.

Harry could not believe he had just kissed Draco Malfoy and the world had not come to an end-Ron was still snoring, Neville was still mumbling in his sleep, and his own heart was still pounding in his chest. Thus, he did the only logical thing he could think of: he leaned in and kissed Draco again, though this time it was much softer and shorter. He wanted to do this slowly, wanted to give himself time to really enjoy this, so when the second kiss ended, he pulled Draco to his chest and squeezed him. "Go back to sleep, Draco..."

"But- "

"Shh. We'll talk in the morning..."

After extremely pleasant dreams the rest of the night, Harry woke early the next morning and, without opening his eyes, reached over to Draco's side of the bed to draw him close, only to contact cool sheets. He grunted and slid one eye open to find the bed otherwise empty, the drapes thrown open, and he sat up to run his hand through his hair and sigh. "Draco?" he called quietly, and he received no response. Groaning, he slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom, only to be met by Neville at the door. "You seen Malfoy?"

Neville nodded grimly. "Yeah, he's pretty sick. He's been throwing up all morning," he said with a disgusted shudder, and he stepped aside so Harry could pass into the bathroom. "It's not Draco-Draco though...sounds like a kid."

Harry groaned again and moved into the bathroom, seeing Draco's feet extending from beneath one of the stalls. "Hey," he whispered as he opened the door and sat down on the floor beside the blonde, who had his cheek resting on the toilet seat and his arms clutched around his stomach. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't feel good," came Draco's child persona, and he whimpered as Harry pulled him in against his chest. "Woke up this morning and Dwaco was so tired so I came out instead and...and I don't wanna frow up again..." Tears rose to his eyes and he reached out to grab the toilet bowl, leaning over it and dry heaving for a moment before he sank back against Harry's chest. "I think Dwaco wants to come out to see you, Hawwy," he whispered, and he closed his eyes.

Harry was suddenly very conscious of his state-he had not brushed his teeth or anything, but when Draco came to and looked sickly into his eyes, he melted. "Good morning," he whispered, and he found himself flushing a little as Draco's arms slithered around him there on the bathroom floor. He leaned up against the door of the stall and held Draco until his stomach calmed down a little, his hand rubbing in small circles just above the blonde's bellybutton. "Are you feeling any better?"

"A bit," Draco rasped, voice harsh from vomiting, and he covered his mouth with his hand. "I really, really need a toothbrush, but I don't want to get it and I don't want you to move..." He slid his other hand down to rest on top of the one on his stomach that was rubbing therapeutically, and he moved it to a more ideal location three inches north. "There...Mmm...I think I need to visit Pomfrey today. I have a fever."

"Poor thing," Harry mocked gently, and he relaxed against the door, finding a more comfortable position for the both of them before he resumed massaging. "I'll take you down when you feel up to moving around more, but for now, do you want to stay here or go back to bed?" He felt Draco nod at the latter, and he helped him to his feet, giving the toilet a final flush before assisting Draco back to the dorm room.

Draco crawled into the bed and drew the blankets up to his chin, peeking over the edge to smile a little at his caregiver. "So...when will we talk about what happened?" he inquired in whisper, and he felt slightly flustered as Harry looked around to make sure no one was watching before leaning down to kiss Draco's sweaty forehead.

"Not now...Now you sleep."

Harry and Draco did not have the chance to talk when Draco woke from his nap-Draco woke while Harry was carrying him to the Hospital Wing. "Wh-what?" Draco managed, tucking his head into Harry's shoulder as a wave of heat passed over him. "Oh, God..." His voice was small and weak, and he choked a little before he grabbed onto Harry's shoulder and whimpered until he was hurried into the sterile room and placed on one of the beds.

"Madam Pomfrey?!" Harry called, and Draco noted blearily that there was blood on Harry's shirt. He lifted a pale hand to his mouth and drew it back to find his skin stained crimson, and he felt his eyes roll back in his head before he fainted dead away onto the pillow. "Oh, please," Harry mumbled before he was met with the mediwitch, and he gestured to Draco's unconscious form. "He started coughing up blood in his sleep. He's got a really high fever, I think, and he was throwing up all morning..." The worry returned to his stomach, and he hurried to sit down on Draco's bedside, lightheaded.

Pomfrey gave a nod and began to work on Draco, performing spells and opening his mouth to look down his throat. "How is his recovery going, Harry? I must confess myself disappointed that you did not come immediately to me for information on his affliction, but there was nothing I could do about it, I suppose..." She muttered the Lumos spell and peered down Draco's throat with it. "You said he was vomiting? His throat is very irritated from whatever he threw up, so the blood is just a response to that." She smiled and waved a healing spell over him, and Draco shifted in his sleep. "There, no more blood."

As Harry watched her bustle over to the various potions she kept on a shelf, he felt himself blush a little at her earlier statement. "I don't think he's recovering at all, but Dumbledore seems to think otherwise. I mean, at least he's Draco sometimes, and not just...someone else. He's been Draco a lot lately," he said, and Pomfrey did not miss the hint of a smile on his lips that he tried to hide. She grabbed the Pepper-Up Potion and a fever reducer before heading back to Draco's bed.

"Enervate!" she exclaimed, her wand pointed at Draco, and his eyes opened slowly to look at her. "Welcome back, Mister Malfoy. I'll need you to drink this potion first..." She placed the fever reducer in his hands and smiled as he downed it with a horrible face. "Terrible, isn't it? Now this one." She sounded almost taunting as she handed him the Pepper-Up, and he did not even look at it before drinking it, so when steam began pouring out of his ears, he turned a nasty colour of red and clamped his hands over his ears. "There we are, Draco. You'll be up to snuff in no time."

Harry could not keep back a small fit of laughter at the sight of haughty Draco Malfoy with steam gushing from his head, and Draco shot him a nasty look before deciding that he was too weak to argue, and he moved to lean against Harry's shoulder and close his eyes. Harry blushed and trained his gaze away from the nurse while his hands rose up to hold Draco lightly, palms stroking down his back. "Well, Harry," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice, "it appears to me that he is indeed recovering. Just because none of the personalities have disappeared doesn't mean that he doesn't feel a lot better. Next time it's not Draco, why don't you ask one of the other personas how to make Draco feel better? Surely one will tell you." She reached out to touch Harry's shoulder, not missing it when Draco's hand slipped into one of Harry's, and he looked thoughtful for a moment before pulling her hand back.

Harry nodded slightly and moved to stand up. "I'll do that," he said quietly, and he carefully pulled the steaming Draco into his arms to carry him like a child. "Thanks for fixing him, Madam Pomfrey." He was slightly embarrassed at the way she looked at them when they held hands, and he wanted to get out as fast as possible. When her hand stopped him, however, he looked strangely at her, and even moreso as she held up a finger. "...Yes?"

"There is a portrait of Petronius in Gryffindor Tower, Mr. Potter, that is protected by the password 'casurus.' Approach it and speak the password, and you will find private quarters for the two of you so your dorm-mates don't get so miffed. You can move your things in as soon as you like..." She smiled lightly at the look of pure ecstasy on Harry's face and watched him nod and leave with Draco in his arms.

After having tucked Draco back into bed, Harry approached the portrait, which was in the common room, and whispered the password so no one else would hear. To his delight, the picture swung open and revealed a room much like the dormitory they had stayed it: coloured in crimson with wooden floors, two large four-posters, a fireplace, and a connected bathroom. Without missing a beat, he closed the portrait and started upstairs again only to be stopped by Hermione, who cocked an eyebrow at the strange look on his face. "I heard Draco was throwing up this morning...Is he all right?" she asked quietly.

"I took him to Pomfrey and she gave him a Pepper-Up potion," he giggled, and he used his hands to mimic the steam from Draco's ears.

Hermione giggled and looked around a bit before she reached out and took Harry's hand. "I thought about what I said yesterday, Harry, and I'm sorry. Having Malfoy around has just been a little strange, and...and if you do decide, well...Harry, I'm not blind." She was struggling for her words, but even so, Harry found himself blushing quite heavily. "When you're around him, you're always touching him, you act like you both have a secret that no one else knows, and when I saw you at the game yesterday, I was a little jealous. Ron doesn't look at me like that, not ever, and-"

"What, how was he looking at me?" Harry asked, feeling his heart beating hard in his chest. Just because he and Draco had kissed in the middle of the night did not mean they were at all together, and he though he had thought about it, he was not so sure he could be Draco Malfoy's boyfriend, and vice versa. "He wasn't looking at me any way!"

"Oh, Harry, don't be so thick!" she snorted, and she mimicking puppy eyes at him. "He looks at you like you've hung the moon to give the sun shining out of your arse a chance to rest. I'm not the only one who's noticed, either, and Ron is positively freaked out by it. He won't be angry, though, unless you hide things from him...So don't. From either of us." She smiled at the gentle blush on Harry's cheeks and found herself blushing as Harry quietly told her what happened in the middle of the previous night. "You kissed him, Harry? Well...er, was it good?" She was not sure what exactly she could have asked besides that, and she grinned as Harry's cheeks threatened to burn right off his face. "I'll take that as a yes, and I won't tell Ron about it until you're ready to tell him, but just don't hide it, okay?"

Harry nodded shyly and watched Hermione as she left the room before he hurried upstairs to check on his charge, who was already awake and sitting up in bed, his Transfiguration text open on his lap. "Hey," Harry whispered, sitting on the bedside and peering at the contents of the pages Draco was reading before he touched his forehead. "You seem to be feeling a little better."

"A little," Draco admitted, and he looked up to Harry, his eyes focused on him, and Harry saw for the first time what Hermione was talking about. His hand crept over to find one of Draco's, his stomach giving little flops as he leaned in to kiss Draco's forehead, and he felt Draco melt against him. "Harry, can we go flying tonight?" he asked very softly, fingers slowly lacing with Harry's, and he wanted to kiss him, but he was much too shy.

"If you bundle up and come to Quidditch practise with me, when practise is over you and I can fly until curfew. Before that, though, we have to move. We've got a few rooms to ourselves, apparently, to stop everyone else from complaining about you being here," he claimed, smiling as Draco grinned up at him, and he reached up to cup Draco's cheek, just leaning in to kiss him again when the dormitory door opened and Ron came bounding in.

"Harry, are you ready for Quidditch tonight?" Ron asked, not noticing Harry jerk away from Draco and shift, unsettled, for a moment. Harry sighed and smiled lightly at Draco, who got out of bed and began packing his things.

That evening, after they were moved into their new rooms, Harry found that he could not concentrate on Quidditch at all. Draco was sitting in the stands wearing his winter cloak and scarf, watching them play, and Harry kept catching himself watching Draco watching. Ron caught him at it several times as well, and was getting so worked up over the fact that practise was already terrible that he threw the Quaffle at Harry and caused him to spin wildly in midair for a moment before stopping with Harry upside-down. "Pay attention!" Ron snapped, though he was pleased to hear Draco's raucous laughter from the stands.

"Sorry!" Harry exclaimed, and he got back into practise. He was careful not to look at Draco again, despite Draco taunting him, saying that it was a wonder Gryffindor ever won at anything when practise was like this. Ron was listening to this as well, and slowly his frustration built until he ended practise twenty minutes early, yelling that he needed a break from the "bumbling idiots" that made up the rest of the team. Harry hid a smile with his hand and flew over to the stands, landing on them and gesturing to the back of his broom. "Get on, you prat. You pissed Ron off..."

"I didn't!" Draco exclaimed in protest as he climbed on behind Harry, his arms slipping around his waist. He took a moment to run his palms over Harry's flat stomach before grabbing his own wrists, and he tucked his head between the other's shoulders. "You were the one not paying attention. Like I said, I can't believe you ever beat me, because-" Harry cut him off by kicking off the stands and flying at breakneck speed across the pitch. Draco screamed and held on tightly, having never ridden a Firebolt before, and he knew that any other broom was permanently ruined for him as Harry steered them effortlessly through the skies. "You could have warned me!"

Harry threw the broom into a sharp dive towards the grass, his hair flying back with the wind, and just as they neared the ground, he evened out the broom and slowed down enough that when he flipped around and wrapped his arms around Draco to pull him off the broom and roll onto the pitch, neither was hurt. The broom stopped immediately and hovered a few inches over the ground beside them as they rolled to a stop in the high grass and both burst out laughing, arms around one another and legs moving to tangle together. "F-fuck you!" Draco managed through his guffawing, and he took a deep, calming breath before bursting into giggles again.

Harry realised just how closely pressed together they were as they made eye contact, and he did not hesitate this time, hand sliding up into Draco's hair to pull him into a long, heart-stopping kiss that made his breath hitch in his throat. When his heart restarted again, it was as though it could not beat fast enough, and he felt Draco's pounding out a similar rhythm against his chest as their mouths opened together and tongues met shyly, caressing and twisting around one another. Draco's legs squeezed his thigh, and when the kiss broke, both took a deep breath and stared at one another. "What're we gonna do?" Harry whispered, his breath visible between them.

"That," Draco replied, his chilly hand moving to run fingertips over Harry's jawline. This was enough to convince Harry, for he leaned in again, and the chill of the wind was ignored as they wrapped up in one another.

Ron was staring at the both of them from outside the pitch, watching as Harry rolled on top of Draco and moaned into his mouth, and his heart hurt. He did not want to lose his best friend, not like this, and though he knew that Harry would tell him that he wasn't that everything was going to be fine, he knew it was a lie, and he wanted nothing more than to run out there and tug them apart, slap Draco, and take him best friend away forever. Instead, he heaved a heavy sigh and turned his back on them, shoving his hands in his pockets and wanting nothing more than to be holding Hermione.

Draco finally shivered and buried his face against Harry's neck. "It's cold...Can we go inside?" he whispered, smiling as he felt Harry lift him to his feet, and he slipped his hand into Harry's as they headed towards the castle. Once up in Gryffindor Tower, they went into their private rooms, and Draco regarded the two beds with a bit of a snort. "Shall we push them together?" he asked quietly, and when Harry nodded and drew his wand, he blushed as the two beds pushed together in the centre of the far wall. "Better."

Ron had absolutely no intention of speaking to Harry or Draco the next morning-he was not angry, but just a little upset that Harry had kept such a big secret from him-but when the pair strode down for breakfast and sat across from him, Harry looking perfectly normal and Draco obviously the child-Draco, he could not help a, "Mornin'" through his bacon at them. His heart lightened a little as Hermione squeezed his hand beneath the table, her face buried in the Daily Prophet.

"Morning, Won!" Draco exclaimed excitedly before placing a straw in his milk and blowing bubbles into it. "How didja sleep? Hawwy kept me up aaaaall night tossing and turning, but I musta falled asleep 'cause I woke up this morning with drool all over my pillow." He grinned, proud of himself, and he grabbed a bit of bacon off of Harry's plate to shove into his mouth.

Hermione snickered a little before her face became suddenly very serious, and she looked up at Draco with an unreadable expression. She closed the newspaper and studied him for a few moments before she slid the newspaper over to him. "Can I speak to Draco?" she asked quietly, slightly shocked as the child nodded and visibly changed in posture and manner to the Draco they were familiar with. "Draco, sorry to, er...bother you? I think you need to read page 6 of the Prophet."

Harry gave her a strange look, shocked that she was able to bring the real Draco back, and he moved to slip his hand into the blonde's only to have it denied as his charge reached up and nabbed the paper. "Must be important," Draco mused, and he munched on another piece of bacon as he flipped to the indicated page and began to read. Harry and Hermione studied him differently-Hermione to see his reaction and Harry to attempt to figure out what was going on-and when Draco's eyes widened and his face lost all colour, Hermione buried her face in her hands. "Shit...Fuck," Draco murmured eloquently as he struggled to get off the bench at the table, looking around frantically as though seeking assistance. Harry grabbed his arm only to be pushed off, and he watched as Draco managed to get untangled from his seat and started for the professors' table.

"Oh, Draco," Hermione breathed into her palms, grabbing the paper from the table and staring at the page again. When Harry gave her a strange look, she sighed and pushed the paper in front of him, pointing to a picture of Lucius. "He was seen in Hogsmeade last night, Harry," she whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. "I thought he was dead...We all did. I can't imagine what Draco's thinking..."

When Draco, Snape, and Dumbledore moved to walk briskly from the hall, Harry left the table and joined them, falling in step beside Draco and reaching his hand out to him. No one in the Great Hall missed it as Draco reached out and threaded their fingers, and the last thing Harry heard before the doors closed behind them was the thud of Ron's fist against the table and Hermione's sigh. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, then he squeezed Draco's hand comfortingly. Grey eyes met his, full of fear, and just as Harry was about to question the look, Dumbledore led them into his office.

Draco sat down in one of the chairs and huddled up, bringing his knees to his chest, and when Harry sat down in the chair beside him, he seemed to quickly change his mind and plop down in Harry's lap. Severus grimaced and shot Albus a hopeless look, but the Headmaster merely smiled and sat down not behind the desk but in Draco's abandoned chair. "Mister Malfoy, you seem to have previous knowledge of Lucius's...livelihood. May I inquire as to how?" His voice was very gentle, undemanding, and as he spoke he reached out to touch Draco's arm. When Draco shook his head violently and hid his face in his hands, Harry felt him seize up, and the person who stood up suddenly and sat on the edge of Dumbledore's desk was not Draco, nor anyone else Harry had met.

"Sorry to be so abrupt." The man standing before them had a distinct Irish accent-something Draco had never, ever had since his voice favoured a lightly-Scottish tone-and he swept a hand through his hair. "Unfortunately, Draco really doesn't need to be so upset. I can speak to you instead." He looked Harry over and smiled very softly before nodding to himself mysteriously before cocking an eyebrow at the professors. "Where were we?"

Dumbledore smiled and leaned forward slightly. "I was just inquiring as to how Draco know that Lucius was still alive. I expected him to be excited that his father was living, but instead he seems terrified. Can you, sir, enlighten us?" The blonde shook his head, causing Dumbledore's forehead to crease, and the older man sighed. "I see...Why can't you tell us?"

The blonde did not immediately answer, hopping from his perch to walk over to Harry's chair. He knelt before it and reached up to tip up the Gryffindor's chin, inspecting him, and he finally smiled. "It's a secret. We can only tell one person, and we'll tell him when we're ready. For now, I think Harry and I should go lock ourselves up until we are certain Lucius has left the area. It would not do for him to sneak into the castle, Headmaster, and find us...Not like this," he replied quietly, and he cleared his throat before standing back up and offering a hand to Harry. "Shall we? You and I need to speak in private, Harry."

Harry looked at Dumbledore, who gave a soft nod, and he swallowed hard before taking that hand and allowing himself to be pulled from the cushy chair, nearly falling into the blonde but catching himself just in time. "Be careful, Harry, Draco," Dumbledore said quietly, and he rose to lie a hand on each of their shoulders. "If this is such a severe situation, we must all take great caution to make sure nothing of consequence occurs." As the pair nodded, Albus smiled and gestured to the door. "Farewell, boys."

The silence between Harry and this new persona was deafening as they approached Gryffindor Tower, and the moment they entered their private rooms, Harry sat down on the bed and watched warily as the other sat down beside him and reached over to touch his shoulder. "Harry, it's very good to meet you at last," he said quietly, and his arm slipped around Harry. "We all like you very much, save for one. Draco especially likes you, you know...He likes you more than anyone, but I'm a close second." Harry felt his cheeks warm up as the other pressed against him and touched his cheek with his nose. "Because I like you so much and because I'm the only one that knows, I'm going to help you."

At this, Harry's eyes lit up, and he turned to meet grey eyes that were so startlingly similar to those of the real Draco that his heart skipped a beat. "Help me? Really? What...What can I do?" he asked eagerly, then he gave pause. "Wait...Is there a catch to it?"

"No catch," the blonde laughed, and he sighed as though he bore the greatest responsibility. "Listen, Harry...It's very crowded in here, and Draco is very afraid all the time. I want things to be the way they used to be for Draco, and while it will certainly mean my integration with him, I am perfectly willing to merge and never be seen again once my work is finished. There's a trick to it, you see." He smiled a little as though listening to something in his head, and a moment later he cleared his throat and ran his hand through his hair. "In the beginning, we chose you, Draco's greatest rival, to be the one we would trust with our names because we never, ever suspected that you would take him on. There was an agreement between all parties, that when we spoke our names to you, our integration with Draco would be immediate and permanent. Fortunately for Draco, you are very kind and generous, and fortunately for you, you are gaining a lot of trust in this head of ours. I expect you will be receiving names very soon."

Harry blinked and stared at him, his heart fluttering. "That's it? That's all I have to do?" he asked, awed, and when the other nodded, he took a deep breath and nodded. "I...I can do that." He smiled a little and blushed as the other leaned over to plant a very soft kiss against his lips.

"I knew you could. Now, I am a bit different than the others. I am to stay until the very last personality integrates, and though you will likely only ever see me once or twice more, I will be there watching over and making sure everyone keeps their end of the deal. My name is Ian, Harry, and it's a great pleasure to meet you." He smiled a little before chuckling, and he cleared his throat a little. "Ah, it seems Draco is rather indignant that I just kissed you. I apologise-but I'm not really sorry for it. Already it seems the memory barriers are failing...Draco can see some of what's going on out here even if he's not here. Despite what you think, Harry, you've made real progress."

"It's...a pleasure to meet you, too, I think," Harry stumbled, and he could not help but laugh with the charming, engaging Ian. When his laughter subsided, he reached over to take Ian's hand, and he flushed a little. "Thank you for telling me, but...Can I see Draco? I would really, really like to-" Without hesitation, Ian froze for a moment, and Harry found himself looking into familiar eyes. "Hi..."

Draco swallowed hard and reached out to grab Harry's shoulders. "He...He kissed you, the son of a bitch," he growled, and before Harry could react, Draco crawled onto his lap and crushed their lips together. His tongue darted out and traced the outside of Harry's lips before plunging inside, as though eradicating all evidence of Ian on those lips, and he moaned quietly against Harry's mouth as they kissed for what seemed like ages.

When the kisses ended, Harry realised he was on his back, Draco astride him, and he reached up to finger through Draco's blonde hair. "Why does it bother you so much that he kissed me?" he asked quietly, and he smirked as his hand trailed down to caress Draco's feather-soft cheek. "It's not like we're dating or anything...Unless, you know, you really wanted to be...well..."

"Okay," Draco breathed, and he felt his cheeks flush as he looked down to Harry. "If you think you want to date someone's who's...well, crazy." He squealed as Harry reached up and assaulted his sides with his fingers, and he fell to the mattress giggling and attempting to squirm away. "Stop it! I...I can't breathe!" he cackled, and he returned the offensive.

Ron and Hermione gave pause outside the boys' room, hearing the two yelling and laughing inside, and Hermione sighed as Ron's ears turned pink. "Ron," she said quietly, and she took his hand. "He'll tell you when he's ready, okay? Draco's not replacing you-you know that-and you and Harry will always be best friends. You can't be angry over this-"

"Can't I?" Ron snarled, and he released her hand before stomping up the stairs to the boys' dormitory. Hermione watched him with sad eyes, but made no move to stop him.