Rating:: R
House:: Schnoogle
Characters:: Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Lord Voldemort
Genres:: Slash Mystery
Era:: Multiple Eras
Spoilers:: Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban
Stats:: Published: 02/27/2002

Updated: 04/20/2003

Words: 75,059

Chapters: 10

Hits: 18,310

The Princes of Fire & Ice

Shakespearechick

Story Summary:: It is time for Draco to play his part in the plans of Voldemort – but they aren’t as glorious has he imagined. Not only does he hate being a pawn, he decides he can’t bring himself to harm Harry either. As mishaps, adventures and angst ensue, both Draco and Harry have to face their feelings, and their fates.

Chapter 01

Posted:: 02/27/2002

Hits:: 6,901

Author's Note:: & Dedications:

* * * * *

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
~Fire and Ice, by Robert Frost~

* * * * *

CHAPTER I: The Best Laid Plans

If I can catch him one upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
~The Merchant of Venice~

Draco Malfoy paced dramatically around in his bedroom chamber. Of course, everything he did was dramatic. Or calculated. Or controlled.

Impatiently, he brushed back some fine white-blond strands of silken hair off his smooth and pale forehead. His cool silver eyes glanced out the window and he noticed the sun slowly creeping up from its rest over the expansive grounds that encircled the Malfoy Manor. Any minute now one of the ghostly manservants in the Malfoy’s would knock on Master Draco’s door to awaken him and get his things down for the drive to King’s Cross station.

However, Draco had already been up for some time and was all ready to go. This was for several reasons. One, he was quite sick of the Malfoy Estate. It was nice to be home and served upon - to not have to worry about traditional homework – but living with his father, Lucius, was anything but enjoyable. Lucius had never been easy on Draco, his son and more importantly his heir – and this summer had been even more intensive with training and preparations due to the Dark Lord’s imminent return to the Wizarding World. Second, Draco was anxious to get back to Hogwarts and get on with everything that would slowly unfold. He smirked a little, priding himself that he knew more of the plans of Lord Voldemort and what would happen than Minister Fudge, Headmaster Dumbledore, or that simpering Harry Potter. More importantly though, he was ready to prove himself, and he was finally getting that chance.

The soft knock and quiet entrance of Lector, one of the butlers, interrupted his pacing and meditations.

“Ah, good morning Master Draco. It would appear you are already risen and ready for the days journey.”

“Yes.” Draco’s voice had a natural arrogance and authority.

“Good, then I will bring down your trunks. Come down for a quick breakfast; your father waits. Then we shall get you on your way.” Lector picked up the two trunks sitting neatly by Draco’s bed and disappeared down the hallway.

Draco gave himself one last look in his mirror before going down for breakfast with his father and mother. He wore a silk, silver-blue shirt under his tailored black coat with its high neck and sleek slacks. His shirt collar was open at the top, revealing a delicate silver chain around his porcelain neck. Absent-mindedly, he pulled out the chain and twirled the charm at its end between his fingers. Suddenly he gripped it tightly and looked directly into his own eyes.

“Finally, Potter will see who the ‘right’ people are.” With that, he turned and walked out of his room for the last time.

* * * * *

Harry surveyed the disarrayed state of Ron’s room half with bemusement and half with nervousness. It looked like he had packed everything. Downstairs he heard a door open and slam shut again. There were voices – a mix of laughter and questioning parents. Harry tried to move towards the door without crushing anything in an effort to meet Hermione on the stairs. Well, he assumed it was Hermione who had arrived.

He almost made it before Ron barged through the door frantically and practically bowled Harry over.

“Harry!” Ron said, rather breathless. “Have you seen my robe?” His eyes were open wide in a searching expression and his flushed cheeks almost matched the flame colored mop of hair atop his head.

“Er… wasn’t it under that pile there, last night?” Harry guessed, pointing to a heap on the other side of the bed.

“Hmmm…” Ron muttered as he walked gingerly over to inspect the pile for himself.

“Eeek!” he exclaimed suddenly, turning around to show what he had found. It appeared to be a Hogwarts robe – but it was heavily creased and wrinkled in every way to the point of looking like-

“-An accordion style robe? Pleats? How stylish.”

It was Hermione. She was standing in the doorway with a look of half disgust and half amusement at the state of Ron’s room and his room.

“Oh, it’s not that bad now, Herm,” Harry said with mock gentleness. He looked encouragingly at Ron. “I’m sure Hermione knows some straightening spells by now-”

“Arg!” Hermione grunted as she launched the nearest pile of clothes at Harry. He dodged them, laughing.

“Ah, your hair looks good today,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. Hermione just gave him a killer glare.

“Well, then, maybe you just know a… er… de-wrinkling spell? Maybe a, you know, quick-wash spell?” Ron was looking a little sheepish.

Hermione sighed loudly and walked forth to yank the sad-looking robe from Ron’s grasp. With motherly indignation she looked at both of them and turned to go downstairs.

“I’ll see what we can do about this,” she said over her shoulder and disappeared. Harry and Ron looked at each other as they listened to her footsteps trail off down the stairs and into the kitchen. Harry was sure he could hear Mrs. Weasley’s exclamation about something – probably the state of Ron’s robes. He grinned and started to laugh.

“Well, at least I found it, right?” Ron smiled sheepishly at him. Then they both began to laugh again.

“Ron! Harry!”

This time it was Ginny who bounded by the room.

“Time to go downstairs and pile into the car.” She smiled almost longingly at Harry (not that he noticed) and then stuck her tongue out at Ron. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go! We can’t miss the train!” She started down the stairs.

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes together and then, taking one last look around, leaped down the stairs after her.

* * * * *

The Hogwarts express chugged merrily along the tracks from King’s Cross, heading towards Hogsmeade. Every now and then students, some still in Muggle clothes and others all ready dressed out in their school robes, would scramble laughing through the aisles of the cars catching up with their friends and the events of the summer.

As Draco stared blankly out the window he had to admit, it had been an eventful summer. Almost immediately upon his return to Malfoy Manor he had sensed a change, the presence of the Dark Arts. Of course, Dark Arts in the Malfoy ancestral home was nothing new, but now it was almost tangible as it permeated through the grounds and through the hallways. His father, Lucius, was in high spirits like Draco had never seen before; The Dark Lord had finally risen. It was something Lucius had told Draco his whole life, “The Dark Lord will return and we Malfoys, will return and serve loyally the most powerful wizard in the world.” Finally his father trusted his son enough to tell him of some of his meetings with Lord Voldemort and how Draco was to play his own part. Draco had to admit to himself that he was curious about Voldemort – not only his plan but also his power. Power was something very attractive to Draco. And now I have some of my own, he thought, surreptitiously fingering the necklace.

A sudden burst of laughter broke Draco’s reverie and he peered coldly at the other end of the train car. Sitting together, laughing and talking, were Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Draco’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but they did not see him. He looked briefly to his sides to find both Crabbe and Goyle had nodded off after apparently gorging themselves on a variety of candies. No self-control, Draco thought icily. He glanced back up at his three enemies, but they still did not see him. He hadn’t wanted to sit in the same car with them; he’d usually be at the opposite end of the train. However, the situation having changed slightly, his father had given him strict instructions about things like this – taking advantage of opportunities that present themselves without arising much suspicion. Still, Draco couldn’t help but feel a bit of uneasiness in his stomach – no doubt a recollection of the almost two years ago – the last time he had been on the train with those three. He had said some things…about Voldemort and Cedric Diggory, and the next thing the he knew, he woke up bruised and battered, not only having been hit with more than one hex but having been trampled over by other students during the majority of the train ride.

“My, my, you must be having too much fun.” A giggly voice was speaking to him suddenly. He looked up warily to see Pansy Parkinson staring back at him mischievously.

“A blast,” he drawled simply. He didn’t smile at her. She didn’t seem to notice, budging her way next to Goyle to sit across from him. Draco watched her. She was almost as tall as he was, rather pretty though there was something… brutish about her. He didn’t really feel like her company especially since she would probably bug him about not owling her over the summer.

“I think Goyle was sitting there,” he muttered dryly. Pansy giggled some more and gazed at him.

“So, what did you do this summer… besides not owling me?”

“Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” There was a pout creeping into her voice along with impatience.

“Important stuff.” Draco looked quickly down the car at Harry and his friends and then back to Pansy’s face. Was that flush anger? He certainly hoped so. In fact, he wished she would just disappear and leave him alone with his thoughts. Then he got an idea.

“Excuse me,” he said softly as he grabbed his bag with his Hogwarts robe and made towards the end of the train. He had the pleasure of seeing a scowl on Pansy’s face before she got up and huffed back to her own seat.

Ginny was sitting across from Hermione, in the window seat… next to Harry. She figured it was a logical arrangement. After all, Ron and Harry had to sit across from each other so they could talk more easily, and the same would go for her and Hermione. And she wasn’t going to sit next to Ron, whereas Hermione didn’t mind, so that left her to sit next to… Harry.

And this was killing her. The main reason was that she was having trouble breathing. She wasn’t sure her heart rate was so natural either. Right now he was leaned forwards a little and his robe was lightly brushing her robe. She had sat as close to the window as possible and had practically frozen in that position whereas Harry was constantly moving around. Sometime there was a gap between them and sometimes he moved shift in some way, his clothes, or even him, making contact with her legs.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone walking down the aisle. It took a lot to distract her from Harry but there was a certain air about this person that made her glance up curiously –

Oh hell.

It was Draco Malfoy. He slowed as he came upon them and Harry was the next to notice, Ron and Hermione having a bit of a disadvantage with their backs to him.

“What the hell are you staring at Malfoy?” Harry asked, tensing immediately.

“Ginny.” Draco smiled sarcastically.

Hermione had to restrain Ron who almost flew out of his seat, swinging at Malfoy. Ginny was too surprised and getting more and more confused to be flattered in anyway, not to mention either flattered or grateful for Ron’s protective-older-brother reaction.

“You keep my sister out of this,” Ron’s voice was rising urgently, despite Hermione’s whispered words to him that it was useless, he was taking Malfoy’s bait. Draco sneered at him, obviously pleased at the reaction he had received from Ron.

“Relax, Weasel. She’s just too short and I didn’t see her behind Potty, here.”

“And you were watching us because…”

“Why was I watching you?” Draco smirked.

“Yes?” Harry was becoming more irritated.

“You mean the world doesn’t revolve around you Potter? Well then, I’ll pass the word on to- never mind.”

With that ominous and sinister answer, Draco gave Ginny a piercing look. She had tried not to look at him through the whole exchange because she hated him so much, but his eyes seemed to reach down to her soul. He smiled knowingly and for a second she was afraid he would say something snide about her feelings for Harry, but blissfully she was excused when he continued on his way.

When he emerged a few minutes later, dressed in his Hogwarts robes, looking impeccable, he didn’t even give any of them a glance. But Ginny, who was trying to gaze not-so-directly-at Harry, looked over his head for a second and watched Draco walk by. His father must have drilled that poise and walk since he first crawled out of his Hell play pen, she thought bitterly and returned to talking to Hermione and giving a quick glance in Harry’s direction.

* * * * *

“Wow, Malfoy. This is all just yours?” Crabbe stood in the doorway to what was Draco’s new dorm room. It was smaller than most of the other Slytherin dorm rooms, but this year Draco had no roommates.

He grinned smugly has he surveyed the four poster bed, the fine cabinet and desk and raised his head with pride as he thought about his dad arranging this for him. Apparently it hadn’t been that difficult, this was one of the smaller rooms and normally they had only squeezed two people in it, so Professor Snape had gladly made adjustments. Actually, Draco considered, he wasn’t sure if one could use the term “gladly” with Snape. But he was sure of one thing, Snape had done this for him – Draco was Snape’s favorite student. But Snape could probably care less what his father said or wanted. Lucius and Snape had once been “friends” as Death Eaters, but Snape had renounced Lord Voldemort.

“Yes, well, that’s the Malfoy name.” Draco walked over to the wardrobe and removed his robe, hanging it up neatly. Then he sat down on his bed and looked around expectantly. Crabbe and Goyle stood awkwardly just inside the door, staring at the room and Draco himself rather dully. Oh God, I think Weasley has more brains than they do combined, he thought.

“Guess…we’ll… go to our room now and unpack,” Goyle said rather stupidly.

“Mmmm…” Draco barely responded. He was feeling more and more grateful to any room arrangement that would keep him from dealing with the idiocy of these two. Sure they were useful when it came to blind loyalty and making fun of certain Gryffindors but… as for conversationalists, Draco thought he could have a more intelligent conversation with his reflection.

Once they lumbered out and shut the door Draco began a lazy attempt at unpacking. He came across his textbooks and schedule for classes this year:

Advanced Level Potions – Professor Snape
Defense Against the Dark Arts (level 5) – Professor Lupin
Care of Magical Creatures (specialization: Dragons)– Professor Hagrid
Transfiguration – Professor McGonagall
History of Magic – Professor Binns

There was nothing that different about his classes this year. He looked forward to getting into some more advanced potions and transfiguration (though he couldn’t stand Professor McGonagall) but he was even more thankful about narrowly avoiding Muggle Studies. How horrible that class would be – even if it was intended for Pure Bloods like himself. He had opted for more Care of Magical Creatures even though he and Hagrid did not get along and it meant yet another class with Harry, Ron and Hermione. However, this year things were going to be different. It was actually better that those three would be there to witness it from the first day of class on. And, of course, Draco (as demonstrated by his specialization for the class) was hoping that Hagrid would trust the fifth years with his favorite (and Draco’s) – dragons.

Draco quickly threw his books and schedule over in a corner to deal with later and slid his trunk under the bed. Combing his hair back with his fingers, he straightened out his shirt and grabbed his robe from the wardrobe. It was time for the Sorting Ceremony and the first dinner of the school year.

* * * * *

The Gryffindors table, along with all the other Houses, was buzzing with new excitement and anticipation as the Sorting Ceremony ended and the feast began.

“Oh, I am starving!” Ron exclaimed as his eyes and stomach took in the huge expanse of food that was displayed before him.

“Hopefully it means there is a growth spurt coming on!” Harry joked, despite the fact that Ron and Harry were about the same height.

“Hear, hear!” Ron agreed with his mouth full. Ginny wrinkled her noise a little and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Everyone ready to beat the pants off of the Slytherins this year in the newly reinstated House Cup?” Seamus Finnigan spoke up, asking eagerly. For a second a dark shadow passed over the features of Harry; Hermione and Ginny saw it. Ron, sitting next to him sensed his body tense. Somehow they had managed – or at least tried – to get over most of the terrible things that had happened last semester including the failed replacement for the House Cup – the Triwizard Tournament. Seamus noticed the awkward silence and began to regret his comment when Harry smiled weakly and answered.

“Definitely.” They all smiled nervously, and Harry glanced backwards over at the Slytherin table. A few of the Gryffindors followed his gaze.

Draco sat book ended on each side by Goyle and Crabbe, obviously the center and pride of his house. Blaise Zabini seemed to be trying to get Pansy Parkinson’s attention, but her gaze was fixated on Draco who was doing a remarkable job of ignoring anything and anyone in her general direction. Draco, like Harry, was the Seeker for his House’s Quidditch team, and more importantly they had also both accepted team captain positions. Ron had been accepted to the Gryffindor team – as a chaser, a position dearly lacking since the graduation of the Angelina Johnson – Katie Bell – Alicia Spinnet trio. New this year was Ginny, who was also a chaser. It turned out she was light and a quick flier with great coordination, and maybe it was familial instincts that let her work so easily with Ron on the field. The third chaser was Dean Thomas and Seamus himself had stepped in as Gryffindor’s keeper.

“So, what classes are you taking this year?” Ginny asked Hermione suddenly, trying to change the subject. Everyone staring at Draco – especially herself – was a little unnerving and she wanted to move on.

“What isn’t she taking,” Ron drawled. “That would be the shorter list.”

Hermione shot him one of her infamous looks of indignation and shook her head before answering.

“Advanced Potions, Advanced Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies.”

Seamus laughed.

“That all?”

“Yes, Seamus,” she looked at him with the uttermost seriousness. “I need a light schedule to accommodate for my duties as Prefect as well.”

Ron almost choked on whatever it was he was shoving in his mouth. Harry started laughing. They figured it wouldn’t be long before Hermione had to bring up the fact she was a Prefect now. They had already commenced the traditional mocking and ridiculing of her Prefect badge.

“But why are you taking Muggle studies?” Seamus continued. “Isn’t that mostly for, uh, Pure Bloods?” He grimaced at the term. “I mean, I assume you already know how to live without magic and how to manage in the Muggle world.”

“True,” Hermione said in a very scholarly tone that indicated a lesson was coming up. Ron’s watering eyes began to roll as he traded faces with Harry and Neville Longbottom. “However, I think it is very important, as someone who came from a Muggle family, to understand how the Wizarding World perceives us. I think it will be very interesting and useful.”

“And a nice blow-off, filler class.” Ron finished. He ducked as some desert cookie flew in his direction.

“Hey!” Dean protested as the cookie narrowly missed his own face.

“Sorry Dean,” Hermione said, trying not to laugh.

“Crappy aim…” Ron muttered. He decided it would be best, though, not to look up at Hermione because he was sure now was not the time to risk deadly stares.

* * * * *

Professor Snape entered his classroom has briskly as he always did, moving quickly to the front of the room and throwing down some papers on his desk. He spun around to the class and barked, “Advanced Potions for Fifth Years!” as a sort of introduction to the class. His eyes peered around the class, surveying the collage of familiar faces. Harry, Ron and Hermione sat in the back in their traditional places. For Harry and Ron it was so they could be ignored by Snape as much as possible, but Hermione’s eagerness to answer all the questions never failed to make this impossible. Draco sat in the front row along with fellow Slytherins Crabbe and Goyle (though Snape had the sense never to ask them anything) as well as Blaise, Malcolm Baddock and Graham Pritchard.

“In this class,” Snape continued, “we will deal with much more advanced potions and how to make them as well as understanding how and why they work. We will also do some research on some banned potions, such as love potions, and dabble in potions such as truth serums, things you might have to face in these…times.” His eyes lingered on Harry for a second – or at least Harry thought – before returning to the front of the class and on Draco.

“Mr. Malfoy, do you know any ingredients to a basic truth serum?”

“They usually include Jobberknoll feathers.” Draco responded simply.

“Correct,” Snape nodded in satisfaction. “And what would you get if you added ground scarab beetle, cut up ginger root, and armadillo bile?”

Harry noticed Hermione’s arm high in the air waiting to be called on. I wonder why she even bothers anymore, he thought listlessly.

“A wit-sharpening potion,” Draco answered in his relaxed, confident tone. “To make a person think more clearly.”

“Exactly.” Snape pursed his lips in what a generous person might have deemed a smile. “How about some ingredients prevalent in Muggle concoctions that are quite potent when introduced into some key potions?”

Hermione, once again, had her arm high in the air. She hadn’t spent hours, usually secretly, reading The Most Potente Potions in the library’s Restricted Section for nothing. But once again she was passed over for Draco.

“Well, there is mandrake, which is used in potions to revive people who have been petrified. Wormwood when infused with asphodel is used in the draught of the living death. There are poisons, like arsenic, as well as items such as various plant roots and parts of the rat anatomy.”

“Yes,” Snape looked pleased. “Many ingredients you have dealt with are ones you have learned about from the wizarding world, but never underestimate tradition Muggle herbs and potions. Ten points for Slytherin.”

Most of the class seemed deeply interested in scrawling this down in their notes but Ron was busily trying to mouth to Harry some crass remark relating Malfoy and parts of the rat anatomy.

“Very well, that is all for now.” Snape concluded. “Be sure to do your reading for tonight on gathering and storing different ingredients as well as their different properties. Tomorrow there will be a quiz, and, if you don’t understand the ingredients and what are and are not compatible the consequences could be… dire.”

With those final words Harry, Ron and Hermione followed a petrified looking Neville out of the classroom as quickly as possible. Hermione was eager to go on to her next class, Ron and Harry just wanted out of Snape’s radar.

“Ok. Well, I’m off to Transfigurations. I guess I’ll see you guys at lunch, before Care of Magical Creatures?” She asked quickly. They both nodded and she quickly disappeared in the crowd down the hallway. Ron and Harry turned away to make their way back to their dorms for their break before lunch and the rest of the day, so they didn’t see Draco come out of Snape’s room and head the same way as Hermione.

* * * * *

Draco had decided to skip lunch, at least lunch in the Hall. He had brought back some food to his room and was lying on the bed. He pulled out his schedule to study it once more. Care of Magical Creatures was next.

He felt so far that the day had proved very successful. Snape’s class had been easy – he always excelled in it (though sometimes his grade was higher than it actually should have been) but he was also proud of his performance in McGonagall’s class. He couldn’t wait to see the faces on Harry, Ron and Hermione as he did the same thing in Hagrid’s class.

* * * * *

“Welcome to Care of Magical Creatures!” Hagrid said in his jolly way that made Harry, Ron and Hermione all smile. “I hope all of you are as excited to be here as I am. In this, your fifth year, we will be learning about and be dealing with some more, uh, complicated creatures. Some of these might be, uh, dangerous but this will all be approved by Dumbledore and, of course, there will be plenty of preparations on hand as well as actions if things get… out of hand…” Hagrid began to trail off realizing that this train of conversation was not going so well. “Hopefully, by the end of the class, we will be able to do some advanced dragon studies. I hope you all will enjoy this as much as I will.” He gave them all a huge smile. Even Draco felt pleasure playing at his lips. He really hoped that dunce Hagrid could get a hold of some dragons for them to see in the flesh and scales.

“Now, to begin with today, we are going to discuss some serpent-related creatures. Besides your basic serpent there are other creatures such as the Ashwinder and the Basilisk. Now… I’m sure most of us are… quite familiar with the Basilisk…” Hagrid trailed off again, his brow furrowing. “It is known as the King of the Serpents and its creation is illegal and has been since Medieval Times, but of course, one appeared here at Hogwarts about three years ago…”

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins snorted characteristically. Hermione gave Hagrid an encouraging smile. “Ashwinders, on the other hand, aren’t nearly as deadly. Does anyone know about them?” He looked around hopefully. Hermione raised her hand and he called on her quickly.

“They are created when a magical fire is allowed to burn for too long. It produces a thin, gray serpent which will rise from the embers.” She looked pleased with herself as Hagrid nodded.

“Good, five points for Gryffindor.”

Suddenly Draco raised his hand briefly, but didn’t wait to be called on before speaking.

“After that the serpent slithers away into the shadows, leaving an ashy trail which must be followed by the house owner because it only lives for about an hour. In that time it lays its eggs in a dark and secluded spot after which it will collapse into dust. You can recognize the eggs because they blaze red and give off intense heat. If they aren’t discovered and given a freezing charm in minutes they will ignite. Once the eggs are frozen, however, they can be used in love potions or eaten as a cure for the ague.”

This was followed by a stunned silence. Hermione’s cheeks were turning bright red and Ron was looking at Malfoy suspiciously. Even his fellow Slytherins looked surprised. Harry was regarding Malfoy intensely, who right now looked calm and composed, and rather disinterested in the disruption his answer had caused.

“Uh, yes… that is quite correct Mr. Malfoy.” Hagrid looked at Draco like he expected him to suddenly chuck a blazing hot Ashwinder egg at him and start laughing. “Love potions are, of course, illegal, but Ashwinders are found worldwide and are most commonly used for their eggs for the ague potion. Uh… ten points for Slytherin.” Still looking dismayed Hagrid continued on about more serpents but Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of Malfoy. And he could feel the anger and humiliation rising in Hermione. It was one thing to be outshone in Potions with Snape by Malfoy, but with Hagrid? It was just too much.

After a few minutes, the rest of the class calmed down and seemed to forget the surprise of Malfoy speaking up, and answering correctly no less. Hermione appeared to be trying to concentrate very hard on what Hagrid was saying as she jotted down some notes and whispered with Ron. Ron seemed to intersperse his class notes with little lines for Hermione and Harry to read which included Malfoy’s name a few adjectives including “cheater” and some other nasty terms.

Draco let his eyes wander over to the Gryffindor trio and smiled secretly. He could clearly read the anger and confusion on the face of Hermione. Poor Hermione – she had witnessed the new and improved Draco in Transfiguration as well. Ron seemed busy doodling something, and Harry… well… Harry every now and then would glance up at Draco with a mixture of confusion, suspicion and deep thought. Draco caught the looks each time but was quite skilled in making sure Harry never knew he noticed. He found it strangely satisfying to watch the face of the unremarkable looking Potter. Draco knew very well that Harry’s carelessness hid his true strengths, and he intended to know those better than his own. Weaknesses too.

He was feeling rather good about himself. This wasn’t going bad – not bad at all. And the first day wasn’t even over yet. He still had History of Magic followed by la crème de la crème – Defense Against the Dark Arts.

* * * * *

Professor Lupin walked in and surveyed his class. It was smaller than the fourth year class; but that was understandable as students began to drop certain classes to direct their own studies – but at the same time he had expected more interest due to the events of the last semester. Then again, maybe they had been scared off. His eyes immediately found Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting close to the front. Draco was sitting on the other side of the room.

“Good afternoon class.” He smiled at Harry and stood in front of his desk. “This is, of course, Defense Against the Dark Arts – an advanced section.” He began pacing slowly in front of the first row. “This has always been an important subject, but I think we can all agree that after the events of last semester and the imminent… struggle with Lord Voldemort, this is more important than ever.” He glanced at Harry pointedly. “Now in this class, we will delve more into various Dark Art curses and spells as well as learning how to deflect them. This will mean active participation on your part, and some of it may not be exactly pleasant, but learning how these curses, like the Imperius curse, feels and works. It will make you more prepared if you are ever unfortunate enough to have to deal with them.”

Harry was staring intently at his desk. He was thrilled that Dumbledore had brought back Lupin to teach this class and he had always excelled in it. But now, after everything he had been through, he felt he had enough experience and unfortunate encounters with the Dark Arts to last several lifetimes. He didn’t want to remember the feeling of the Imperius curse, or hearing the cold voice whisper “Avada Kedavra” at Cedric.

Cedric!

Harry shut his eyes tightly trying to ignore the image of Cedric’s face… Cedric’s body…

“Eventually I will be wanting you all to do extensive research on the Unforgivable Curses. These are, of course, the Imperius Curse, Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse.” Lupin continued.

Hermione smiled weakly at Harry and he attempted a smile back. He stole a glance at Draco remembering his rival’s sudden scholarly knowledge. Or maybe he’s just displaying it now, he thought. He was pretty sure Malfoy had some extensive experience with the Dark Arts. Draco was leaning back in his chair rather casually, his arms loosely crossed and his face rather blank. His eyes seemed to be looking through Lupin thinking about other matters, though at the same time he managed to look interested in the class – which had to be some Malfoy talent. Blissfully, for Harry’s nerves, Malfoy was silent in this class. He did, however, seemed to be almost cataloging Lupin’s speech. Harry shook his head slightly and tuned back into Lupin just in time for the bell to ring. He felt a little guilty for letting his mind wander, but there was no time for that now as he got up and exited along with Ron and Hermione. He was thrilled to be back home at Hogwarts, but there had been something straining about this first day of classes and he couldn’t deny at the joy of having it end.

* * * * *

Draco sat restlessly on the edge of his bed, his hand subconsciously running along the fine silken thread count of the top sheet. It was almost midnight, but he could not sleep. It was the end of the third week of the term and he had been getting bored and impatient with the current state of affairs.

He had kept up with the idea of besting Potter, Granger and Weasel whenever the opportunity arose – whether it be in class or in the Hall during a meal. But, except for Granger, neither Potter nor Weasel had seemed very interested in answering anything in any of the classes so Draco spent most of his time watching them or thinking about what his father had called his ‘destiny’. Silently, he had thanked his father for being able to know the answers in class without much study and being able to see the confused, upset and possibly jealous expressions that would cross Granger’s face. It was a delight to see. Potter had seemed more distracted and Draco secretly wondered if he had been tipped off about some dark force penetrating the school and radiating from Draco himself. Potter seemed involved in every event at Hogwarts that seemed apocalyptic or related to the Dark Arts. For all Draco knew the charm gave off some… signal that Potter could sense. Maybe it had to do with that dang scar on his forehead. Harry’s broad, smooth forehead, with the slightly intriguing, always enticing bolt of lightning… Draco stopped that train of thought.

Either way, the charm was beginning to bug Draco now, despite all of its benefits. It had begun to feel like a heavy weight around his neck and he was starting to resent its control over some portion of his thoughts. Like right now, he thought. He was tired, especially physically because he had Quidditch practice today; but his mind wouldn’t stop spinning with thoughts, ideas and plans. It was keeping him awake and giving him a dull headache. And that was why he was sitting listlessly on top of the covers of his bed instead of snuggled under them resting.

He stood up and walked over to the small mirror that hung on the wall above his personal fireplace. His reflection was minimally changed. His pale, handsome features were creased with exasperation and hints of exhaustion. There were faint shadows beginning to appear under his eyes, which he found quite unseemly. He made a face at himself, his forehead creasing back at him in fury and agitation, and then he stalked away. If he couldn’t get his mind to shut up just standing here he might as well take a brisk walk around the corridors of Hogwarts. He couldn’t think of anything else to do.

* * * * *

Harry could not sleep. He lay on his bed listening to the peaceful snores of Ron, Dean and Seamus but his own blissful rest was nowhere to be found. His scar gave him occasionally moments of dull aching that bothered him marginally. He supposed he should owl Sirius about that again. More importantly, he had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that something awful was looming ahead. And, maybe it was just egocentricity, or maybe it was past experience, but he had a feeling he would somehow be involved. And he didn’t want to be. And he was sick of it. Hadn’t enough happened already?

But he guessed this was really just the beginning. Cedric’s death, the rise of Lord Voldemort and his horrible experiences regarding all of that had merely been the first scene in the first Act of some horrible epic he had been fated to take the lead in. He had been trying to ignore it recently and not think about it, but when he had seen Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express his false peace from the summer had been shattered. In fact, every time he had seen Malfoy recently he had gotten a bad feeling. Especially since he had been acting so unlike the gentleman scholar he had been before. He seemed to be studying and he seemed unnaturally confident in even Professor McGonagall’s class. Actually, confidence always was natural with Malfoy, but his sudden take to demonstrating it in class was definitely unnatural. Hermione had even said he had apparently taken a deep interest in Wizarding History, which Harry knew just couldn’t be right. There was something up. And it was keeping him up. And it was pissing him off.

Finally he swung his feet out from the covers of his bed and stood up. Grabbing his Invisibility Cloak he took one last glance at Ron, Dean and Seamus to make sure he hadn’t disturbed them before leaving the room, racing down the stairs and stepping though the porthole. It was time for a midnight stroll.

* * * * *

Were those footsteps?

Draco stopped dead in his own tracks, pausing to listen for signs of Filch or Mrs. Norris. Silence. Probably more tricks in my head, he though chagrined, his fist clenched around the charm hanging from his neck. He continued his agitated march along the corridors of the Astronomy Tower. Not much was getting accomplished, not much at all.

He cursed and muttered under his breath for a while, morosely wondering if he was going insane because of the charm and if this is what his father originally had in mind. I wouldn’t be surprised. He spluttered indignantly at the idea of being a puppet. Damn, maybe this is just enhancing my paranoia, he thought blandly.

Suddenly, as he turned a corner, he smacked right into something – or someone – that wasn’t there.

Oomph!

Harry was knocked against the wall and he heard a cold, disturbingly familiar voice curse at the air, or maybe at him.

He felt foolish for a second, realizing he had been staring intently at the floor as he strolled along and hadn’t even bothered to look up as he rounded the corner. Before he could look up and realize what had really just happened a hand shot out, blindly grabbing him and he felt the pull as his cloak was tugged violently off. His eyes glanced up and were met with the furiously chilled orbs of Malfoy.

“Potter.” He only sounded half surprised.

“Malfoy,” Harry responded, stupidly trying to sound equally put off. After all, this was my fault. Dammit! Of all the people he didn’t want to see right now, he had smacked right into Malfoy…

“What the hell are you doing?” Draco continued. His gaze pierced through Harry, who looked like a mixture of embarrassment and aggravation.

“I could ask you the same – out of bed past curfew.”

“Yeah, well, at least I’m not sneaking around invisible,” Draco snorted. “Gee, Potter, I thought the point of those things was to make one invisible – not blind.”

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

“Maybe you should get new glasses,” Draco said smugly, just to see the flush of anger rise to Harry’s smooth cheeks. His eyes blazed behind the lenses. For some reason Draco felt excited by this. It was also an added bonus that being smarmy with Potter was taking his mind off his own aching head and troubled thoughts.

“Shut up Malfoy!” Harry felt the agitation and frustration of the past few days surge through him.

“Hey – you ran into me,” Draco said stiffly. He mumbled something rather unpleasant under his breath about Harry and his manners and upbringing, but before he could finish his satisfied, smirking smile he found himself being hurled back by the force of Harry suddenly charging him.

Draco was initially stunned as he felt the strength and anger of Harry shove him violently back against the other wall. But he hadn’t been trained to fight by his father for nothing (especially surprise attacks) and instinctively he reached up to Harry’s shoulders and shoved him back. Harry caught Draco’s arm and swung him around, twisting them and tangling them all up. Harry had more momentum, though, and even as Draco threw a punch that hit him square on the lip, Draco felt himself falling towards the ground with Harry landing on a heap next to him. Dazed by the punch and the fall, Harry took a moment to recover. In the meantime, Draco had wrapped his hands around Harry’s collar and rolled him over so that now Draco had the upper hand. Blinding rage gave Harry new, unexpected strength, no doubt stemming from years of pent up rage against Malfoy, allowed Harry to continue the roll, working himself free from Draco’s choke hold and pinning Draco down himself. He straddled Draco’s waist, his knees digging into Draco’s sides, and he leaned his hands down on Draco’s shoulders. He moved his hands down over Draco’s arms, grasping him by the wrists.

Both of them were gasping now, Draco from being pinned down and having the full weight of Harry on top of him, and Harry was still trying to catch his breath while licking the stream of blood that trickled from his lip - which was feeling strangely swelled and puffy at this moment.

He felt his hands clenched around the other boy’s wrists so tightly that he could detect a faint pulse. There was skin under his nails and he was sure he must be causing Malfoy some pain, but Malfoy showed no sign of it in his unreadable eyes.

“Screw you, Potter,” Malfoy said with some effort.

“Shove off, Malfoy. You’re such a prat – and I’ve been wanting to do this for such a long time.” Harry couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth, not to mention the malevolent tone - which was so unlike him.

“Do what, exactly?” Malfoy hissed back, but Harry barely heard him. He had caught a glimmer of something around Draco’s neck. Without even thinking he reached down under Draco’s shirt and moved to pull out the chain. His fingers trailed down Malfoy’s flawless neckline curiously to the charm. It was an oval emerald, set in the purest silver, which shimmered like Malfoy’s eyes and hair.

Draco felt his stomach tense as he held his breath involuntarily. Harry’s delicate fingers reached for his neck and came up with the charm. His skin shivered in reaction, not unpleasantly, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. Draco saw the confusion and wonderment cross past Harry’s face as he regarded the find– and then something flickered behind his eyes. It was then Draco noticed how green those eyes were – green like the emerald charm around his neck that was now in Harry’s warm grasp. A pure, brilliant green, like his own pristine Slytherin robes.

The minute Harry’s fingers clenched around the charm he felt a shudder down his spine. His scar began to pulse dully and he sensed something darker that seemed to be coming from within Draco. There was a power in it that he instinctively found familiar and therefore dreaded.

“What…what is this, Malfoy?” Harry asked with restrained and tired inquisitiveness.

“It doesn’t matter,” Draco said flatly. He lay his head back on the cold floor and let his eyes rest on Harry. Harry who obviously could sense the evil within the charm. Harry who actually seemed concerned for Draco when he spoke next.

“Malfoy, what is this? You have to take it off. Where did you get it?”

“It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t concern you.”

“I beg to differ,” Harry said sharply. He dropped the charm and it fell back against Draco’s pale throat. The throbbing of his scar subsided. He was feeling sick thinking about it, and Draco’s voice sans the sarcastic drawl disturbed him as well.

“You can beg all you want, but does it have to be while you are crushing me? Potter?”

It was Malfoy saying his name rather breathlessly that brought Harry back to the present and suddenly made him very aware of the awkward position he was in. If someone walked by they would have found Harry Potter straddling and leaning over Draco Malfoy in a way that could be interpreted as, well, rather suggestive. Instinctively Harry drew back and slid off of Draco, who sat up gingerly, taking deeper and fuller breaths.

Their eyes met for a second and Draco looked down and the stony ground.

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t do anything.” Harry was surprised again by his tone, which was lacking its usual arrogance. Was that resignation? With that Draco got up and began to stride off down the hallway with his characteristic poise. Harry jumped up after him, but stopped short of following him.

“See ya later, Potter,” Malfoy called back wryly, and then he disappeared around the bend.

Oh God, Harry thought as he watched him go. What the hell is going to happen now?

TO BE CONTINUED…