The Princes of Fire & Ice

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 VIII: Actions Speak Louder Than Words

Oh that thou hadst like others been all words,

And no performance.

~Philip Massinger, The Parliament of Love (1624)~

Harry looked up in surprise as the portrait door swung open and Ron tramped through with Hermione and Seamus close behind. Ron's face was set in a tight frown, but Seamus and Hermione seemed to be getting along famously. Harry wondered if Ron's apparent unhappiness had something to do with what Ron had asked back in their dorm room, about there being "something" going on between Seamus and Hermione.

If there wasn't then, there obviously was something now.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "I've just dropped off the results to Noel Summers. Guess what our Hallowe'en theme is?"

"Hallowe'en?" Harry guessed drolly as he grinned at her. She threw him a look of mock annoyance.

"Don't be silly," she said. For a startling moment he imagined her saying, "Don't be like Draco," as Draco had given the same theme idea for the dance at the infamous prefects' meeting. Harry shook himself and attempted to smile again at Hermione. "The students of Hogwarts have chosen the theme ... Hogwarts Ghosts."

"Thrilling, isn't it?" Seamus smirked next to her, winking at Harry. "I'm just so excited, I'm not sure how I'll ever get to sleep."

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed him playfully to the side.

"I need to drop off these results to Noel so he can pass it on to the other people who are working on details."

"Are you going to go now?" Harry asked her, one eye still on Ron, who had yet to say anything.

"It's probably best," she replied thoughtfully, her gaze moving to the enchanted grandfather clock next to the fireplace. "It's not too late, yet."

"Come on then," Seamus said grandly as he offered his arm to her. "I'll escort you."

Hermione turned and gave him an appraising sort of look. He raised his eyebrows at her in anticipation and she gave in.

"Fine." She linked arms with him and gave Harry one last smile. "We won't be too long."

Seamus gave another wink to Harry and then he and Hermione strode out of the common room.

Harry immediately turned his attention to Ron, who had already moved to his side.

"Seamus asked Hermione to the Hallowe'en dance and she said yes," he relayed without introduction.

"Really?" Harry asked, thrown off a little by Ron's bluntness.

"Just now, when we were helping her tally the votes and everything. He asked her, all suave and confident and she just... agreed. And then they were all smiles and giggles on the way back." Ron looked like he might be ill.

"Are you okay, Ron?"

"I'm fine," he snapped back. "What we have to do now, thanks to Seamus, is get our own dates for the dance."

"Ron, we don't-"

"Otherwise, we'll just look pathetic. I've been thinking about this on the way here and-"

"- Ron -"

"- I thought I could ask Lavender, and maybe you should just ask Ginny-"

"- RON!"

Ron finally stopped talking and looked up at Harry in surprise.

"Yes?"

Harry almost laughed in disbelief. "Breathe for a moment, Ron," he said.

Ron frowned slightly and then shook his head. He made his way over to the couch and sat down listlessly. Harry watched his friend with concern.

"Look," Harry began slowly, making his way over to the couch, "I know you don't like the idea of Hermione going to the dance with Seamus, but just because he has a date doesn't mean we have to."

"I know what you are thinking," Ron said sourly, "and it's not that."

"Oh?" Harry tried to hide a wry smile as he sat down next to Ron.

His friend turned to look at him.

"You think I wanted to ask Hermione myself."

Harry stalled by examining his fingers, trying to think of something to say. Finally, he decided to attempt the truth.

"Well... you know... after the Yule Ball... but I guess it's been about two years and neither one of you has..."

"After the Yule Ball?" Ron sounded incredulous.

"Yeah, when you two obviously wanted to go with each other and-"

Ron was turning beet red.

"Hardly!" he exclaimed indignantly. "We would kill each other," he added as an after thought.

"Maybe, but it sure seemed like-"

"Look, I won't deny that... there have been some moments..." Ron sighed. "But, I think I've known along it was never meant to be. I really have nothing against Seamus, but sometimes it's just weird."

Harry nodded sympathetically. He realized how much attention he had been giving to his own problems, and how he had neglected Ron and Hermione since his return from being held in the Malfoy dungeons.

"So you really think it would make you feel better to have a date for this dance?" Harry asked. Ron shrugged.

"It couldn't hurt."

Harry mused over this for a moment. He couldn't think of anything less important right now than getting a date for the Hallowe'en Dance.

"You don't really want me to go with Ginny, do you?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Well, I know she has this crush on you-"

"Which is exactly why I shouldn't lead her on," Harry explained softly. He thought over all the times he had caught her watching him in awe and nervousness. Then another image of her sprung to his mind: her face right after Draco had kissed her.

He didn't like this train of thought.

"It's just the Hallowe'en Dance," Ron said dully. "It's not like you're asking her to marry you."

Harry was about to argue when they both heard footsteps on the stairs; emerging from the last step was Ginny. Harry tried to contain his surprise and force a smile and a faint hello.

"Hey, Gin," said Ron.

"Hey," she responded back. Harry thought she looked rather depressed.

Great.

He could just see Ron's big brother gears going into overdrive as he evaluated his sister's mood and tried to come up with something to cheer her up. Harry braced himself for the worst.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked as she walked over towards them.

"Nothing," she said, attempting to sound casual.

"Well, do you want to go to the Hallowe'en Dance with Harry?" Ron asked.

"What?" said Ginny.

"What?" said Harry.

Harry instantly flinched and then tried to hide it as Ginny turned her attention on him.

"Yeah, uh, Seamus is going with Hermione and I thought I'd ask Lavender," Ron stumbled on, trying to avoid Harry's eye.

"Is this true?" Ginny asked Harry.

"Yes. Seamus is taking Hermione to the dance," Harry said evenly, until Ron elbowed him rather hard in the ribs. "And, er, Ron and I thought we, uh, should get dates so, uh, do you want to come with me?"

Ginny paused for a moment, as if trying to decide if this was a joke. Harry hoped she hadn't noticed how strange he was acting; he made a mental note to kill Ron at some point in the near future.

"Sure..." she said finally, and this time her face brightened a little. Ron gave a sigh of relief and Harry nodded like a prisoner forced to accept his sentence. He wanted to do nothing more than hit Ron right now. This setup was not fair to Ginny and could only end in her being more depressed than before. Harry might not have had romantic feelings towards her, but he cared about her, and hated to see her hurt, not to mention being the one to hurt her.

"Great," Ron grinned. "We can all hang out together, then."

"Okay," Ginny said. "Well, I should go finish some reading before I go to bed." She said goodnight to both of them and then headed back up the stairs to the girls' dorms.

"Ron..." Harry began, as soon as she was out of earshot.

"Don't say anything," Ron interrupted. "It can't hurt. It'll just give her a fun night out. And we'll both have dates."

Harry sighed. He had been hurt when he thought Draco had changed, and could only imagine what Ginny would feel when she realized the boy she had fancied since she was ten still didn't love her, that the date would all be a sham.

Why was it always so hard to simply act the way people really felt? Why was it he felt like he had to pretend and mask his feelings more than usual?

***

Draco's world had always included power. He had seen it radiating from his father and he had envisioned it in his own future. He was a Malfoy; he would be handsome, rich, and powerful.

Of course, recently Draco had turned cynical. When Voldemort had risen again he had watched his father become submissive and turn into a sycophant when it came to getting his Master's forgiveness.

Master.

That was what his father had called Voldemort - and it turned Draco's stomach. Malfoys weren't supposed to have masters; they weren't supposed to be servants. They ruled themselves and they controlled those around them.

Draco thought he was off to a rather nice start when it came to his reputation at Hogwarts. The other Slytherins listened to him, even if it was sometimes out of fear of his family's connections with Voldemort. Adults who didn't know him liked to please his deceivingly handsome face, thinking he was probably still innocuous. Most of the students gave him a wide birth out of awe.

And fear.

Always fear.

There goes Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's son. Yes, Lucius Malfoy. Everyone knows he's a Death Eater. Beware him; don't get in his way.

Then there were the Gryffindors, led by Harry Potter, who had no qualms about sneering and glaring at him, generally making their dislike of him well-known. They appeared not to fear him; in fact, they seemed to think that his arrogance was actually below their Gryffindor notice. Draco tended to like his altercations with those brave Gryffindors because they challenged him. They fought back.

Especially Harry Potter.

The Boy Who Lived. The boy who had an uncanny ability to defeat Voldemort repeatedly. The boy whose parents were dead and whose aunt and uncle had raised him to be anything but the heroic, composed and righteous person he was. The boy who had a type of power that Draco envied.

Draco fingered the charm around his neck; it was warm to his touch. With this amulet he had bested Harry at Quidditch, but that was only the beginning. There was more power in store for him through it. His father claimed that serving Voldemort would bring power, but Draco highly doubted this. It seemed only to bring servitude. A Master was still a Master, and even if you were a Death Eater you were still a groveling servant, bound to Voldemort's will, not unlike the house elves whom Draco detested.

But the fact remained that right now even those groveling Death Eaters were more powerful than Draco. His father could very well harm him, and Voldemort could crush him. They were the ones who had given him the amulet in the first place.

They had given it back.

This still made Draco's eyes narrow in suspicion. He had failed them, he had fled them and he had freed Harry Potter. Why had there been no punishment? He had seen grown, powerful wizards taken down for less. What was so special about him that they looked the other way at his obvious insolence and rebellion? His father had even gone to great lengths to come up with an excuse for his behavior - pride and the desire to prove himself.

Draco laughed at this. He had failed because he couldn't kill; he was weak. He had fled because he was afraid; he was weak. He had taken Harry back with him... because he was weak.

True, he had resented the amulet the first time because he had felt used, and he was. He was still only a pawn in the plots of Voldemort. But he was obviously very strategically important if they had given it back to him, and had even adjusted it so it was less of a burden. It no longer annoyed him as it had before - keeping him up, crowding his thoughts and slowly taking control over him. Now it was like an occasional energy boost. He could lift heavier things, run farther faster and thwart any fencing opponent in a matter of minutes.

But he still didn't know why all of this was so important or what was expected of him. In the nightmare, the image of killing Harry stood out in his mind more than the rest. But Draco was beginning to realize this had to be an exaggeration - a figment of his imagination. His father would never think he was capable enough to kill Harry, and Voldemort obviously wasn't eager to have Harry dispatched.

And when the time came, Voldemort would want the revenge to be his alone.

The order he had received to kill Harry had obviously been a test, but what he was getting tested for he had absolutely no idea. He was still in the dark, and even his classmates were spying on him. He had always suspected this, but his little experiment at the prefects' meeting had proven it. His father had learned of his actions very quickly. He would have to be careful.

It was obvious that he would have to tow the line for now. He would have to listen to his father and comply with his orders and serve the whims of Voldemort. But he decided he would not stop looking for a way out, a way to come into his own power. And, as for Harry, if the Gryffindor wanted to pretend that he could ignore him, then Draco could play that game as well. It would probably be best he limited his contact with Harry anyway.

Draco smiled to himself, pleased that he had come to this decision. He looked out the window at the slightly overcast sky and dropped the amulet back onto his chest. He had made another decision.

He wanted to practice Quidditch.

***

"This is not really how I imagined spending my Saturday," Seamus said wryly as he watched Hermione making out a list of decoration items they needed.

"Justin was in charge of booking the music, right?" she asked distractedly, oblivious to what Seamus had just said.

"Yeah, I think he booked Lucius and the Death Eaters."

Hermione did not react, still lost in her own thoughts.

"Yes, that was Justin's job... but what about the rest of the entertainment?"

"You can't go wrong with putting Malfoy and Harry in the same room," Seamus continued in an amused tone. "Instant fireworks."

"Hmm?" Hermione glanced up from the papers at him. "Did you say something?"

"No, absolutely nothing."

Hermione gave a small sigh and then smiled apologetically to Seamus.

"I'm sorry, Seamus. You know how engrossed I can get."

"Yes, the infamous Granger-one-track-mind," he smiled back.

"It's just... all of this is coming up so quickly. Thanks for helping, though."

"I'm not quite sure how I'm helping," he mused, blowing some papers off the table.

"Seamus!"

"Sorry," he said with a sheepishness that Hermione didn't believe was all that sincere.

As Seamus bent down to pick up the scattered papers, there was a soft knock on the door to the common room and then it opened slowly. Both Hermione and Seamus looked up, surprised at the knock, and saw Noel Summers looking down at them.

"Oh good, Hermione, you're here," he said, stepping over the threshold. Noel was an inch or two taller than either Seamus or even Ron, who was one of the taller sixth years. He brushed back his sandy-blond hair with his fingers distractedly and focused on Hermione and the mess around her on the table. "Working as hard as ever, I can see." He grinned and stepped over the table.

"Hey Noel," Seamus said casually. "Nice of you to drop by the Gryffindor common room and notice how much better it is than the Hufflepuff one is."

"Good afternoon, Seamus," Noel said with a smile. "Actually, I hear disturbing rumors that the Slytherin dungeon has luxurious leather couches. But, anyway," he gestured to Hermione. "Helping her out?"

"If you mean getting bored out of my mind while she ponders shades of orange and black, then yes."

"Hey!" Hermione said indignantly.

"Well," Noel said with a laugh, "I just wanted to drop by and see how it was going. Oh, and give you the latest."

"The latest?

"Yes. We are sticking to the theme, but aren't going to worry about setting up the whole murder mystery. There just isn't enough time."

"Oh, okay," Hermione said.

"And, Morgana just told me that Justin managed to book Celestina Warbeck."

"I wanted Lucius and the Death Eaters," Seamus said with a pout. Hermione looked at him in surprise and then seemed to remember him saying this earlier when he denied saying anything at all. He winked at her as Noel gave him a weird look.

"Lucius and the..."

"Inside joke," Seamus said with a dismissive wave. "Forget it."

"Good," Hermione said finally. "Then I guess we just need the finish up the decorations and the posters. Oh, and the menu."

Seamus groaned audibly, but both Hermione and Noel didn't seem to hear him as they poured over what Hermione had already planned. He was watching them work when suddenly the door swung open again and this time Harry and Ron stepped through.

"Hey Seamus, Hermione - oh, hey Noel," Harry said on seeing the Head Boy at the table.

"Who let in the Hufflepuff?" Ron said with mock seriousness.

"He let himself in," Seamus whispered conspiratorially. "One of those annoying Head Boy privileges."

"Ah yes," Harry said, nodding gravely. "So what have you been doing all morning?"

"Working on the dance," Hermione said, not bothering to look up from the papers. Noel was now sitting next to her. "There were some last minute details that needed to get planned and finalized."

Harry nodded again and then had to smother a laugh as he caught a look from Seamus. The Irish boy was miming killing himself with boredom and was pleading with Harry and Ron to rescue him from his Hermione-escorting duty at this particular moment.

"So, er, Seamus, would you be able to take a break and, er, come practice some Quidditch moves with us?" Harry asked.

Ron had to suppress another laugh as Seamus went from bowing to them to turning towards Hermione, all business.

"Would that be possible, Hermione?" he asked.

"You three go along," Noel said, surprising them. "I'll stay here and help Hermione." He looked up and winked at Seamus. "I'm sure you'll be more, uh, productive, at Quidditch. I can take care of this."

"Sure, Seamus," Hermione said. "I'll catch up with you at dinner, okay?"

"Okay, great," Seamus said, attempting a casual tone.

They were about to turn around and leave when Harry walked up to Noel's side of the table and leaned down.

"Um, Noel?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Did Malfoy apologize to you, by any chance?"

"Actually, he did."

"Oh. Okay. Good. I, er, I was just curious."

Noel gave him a friendly smile and then went back to work. Harry stood there for a moment before calling to Ron.

"Ron, did you grab the equipment?"

"Sure, it was right here by the door, where we left it."

"Oh yeah," Harry said ruefully and made his way back over to the portrait hole with Ron and Seamus. Ron held the door open and Seamus was about to step through when he paused and suddenly ran back over to Hermione at the table. He leaned down, and kissed her cheek ever so softly, and then ran back out the hole before she had a chance to say anything.

As Harry followed Ron out the door he couldn't miss the look of happiness she was wearing, or how her fingers were still brushing over the spot on her cheek where Seamus had kissed her.

***

Draco remembered watching Harry's first Quidditch game very clearly. He remembered being disgusted, jealous and bitter. Harry had barely learned what the game was, let along how to maneuver around on his broomstick; and there he was, on the team. And he was good.

Harry always flew so lighthearted and easily, as if he was escaping to his freedom. Draco had to admit that flying made you feel free. You were free from gravity and free from the responsibilities and people down on the ground. Draco had always enjoyed practicing his flying at home because he could escape his parents. He could be by himself, instead of under their scrutiny and their expectations, and he could imagine flying away.

He was in charge in the air.

Draco felt a surge of energy as he dipped down on his broom and felt for the practice Snitch, fluttering in his pocket. He patted the pocket lightly and then returned to engaging in some dangerous dives and flips with his polished Firebolt. He spun faster than he normally would have been comfortable with, and dove faster and farther than he imagined even Viktor Krum doing. The Wronski Feint was like slicing through butter with a hot knife. He could now do it with his eyes closed.

But, if he had kept his eyes closed, he would not have noticed the approaching Gryffindors.

He saw Harry first, the familiar wild-haired and spectacled boy attempting to face his two companions as they walked towards the field. Draco could pick out Ron's red hair, and decided the other boy was most likely Seamus.

He could also make out some Quidditch equipment and sighed restlessly. He didn't really feel like dealing with them right now and wondered if he could ignore them.

He pulled his eyes away from the trio and decided to attempt pretending they weren't there. He was still enjoying the new freedom and confidence he felt flying recklessly with the amulet.

It was Harry who noticed the figure flying high above the pitch first. He could make out the figure in dark robes, lithe and seemingly free from gravity as they soared and zoomed around the pitch. He already knew the answer to his question before he asked it.

"Is that Malfoy?"

Ron and Seamus looked up in the direction of Harry's glance, startled from their game talk.

"Looks like it," Seamus said, squinting through the distance and darkness that was creeping in as evening began to turn to night.

Harry watched as the figure looped around and then began flying towards them, and he caught a glimpse of the whitish hair that he knew was unique to only one person in all of Hogwarts.

Draco Malfoy.

If Draco saw them, he was overlooking their intrusion to his private Quidditch practice.

"You know, I don't really want to stand here and watch that little sod-" Ron started to say when both Seamus and Harry gasped.

Draco had gone from flying straight to suddenly going into a corkscrew dive towards the center of the pitch. The closer he got to the ground the faster his spin became, and Harry was about to call out in stunned horror when the Slytherin pulled back up, shooting higher than the point of his descent.

"Did he just... what the..." Ron was muttering.

"I have never seen such a suicidal variation of the Wronski Feint in my life," Seamus pronounced dramatically.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" Harry finally said, just as Draco pulled something that glimmered from his pocket.

"That looks like a Snitch," Seamus declared helpfully.

It was, indeed, a Snitch. Draco opened his palm and it fluttered out erratically. Harry could imagine the feel of the Snitch, his own eyes searching through the dark, trying to seek out the small, golden ball.

Draco flew around in circles lazily, watching the Gryffindors out of the corner of his eye, especially Harry. He had seen them frozen to their spots, watching him in shock as he performed his new trick. He was just as impressed as they were; he wasn't a bit dizzy. He smiled wickedly as he thought of the next stunt to attempt. Casting his eyes around the air he could still catch random flashes of gold. The Snitch. It was there, flying around, waiting to be caught.

But just how should he attempt to catch it? He had already shown off his new diving skills - what else could he attempt?

Draco stopped circling and zoomed back and forth between the goal hoops a few times, each time getting faster. Then he saw it, the glimmer of the Snitch fluttering below him. He smiled to himself as he descended slowly towards it, the whole time keeping his eyes on its unpredictable changes in direction.

Finally, he was situated below its flight pattern. He carefully stood up, until he was simply standing and balancing on his broomstick. As he reached up to grasp it, he felt it slip through his fingers, plummeting downwards a few feet. Without thinking he jumped up slightly and as he came back down he wrapped the back of his knees around the broom and then swung, head down, arms reaching for the Snitch.

His slim fingers closed around its vibrating wings, crushing them as he tried to orient himself now that he was hanging upside down from his broom.

It wasn't exactly what he had planned, but he had still succeeded. Bending back upwards as if stomach muscles were always this strong, he righted himself on the broom and looked down towards Harry, Seamus and Ron.

"I...he... what..." Seamus and Ron were still muttering incoherently, but Harry was watching Draco through narrowed eyes. He had been trying to ignore Draco, trying to forget the abduction and the two kisses; he was also trying to avoid the old Draco who was back with a vengeance. But he couldn't ignore this display of preternatural Seeker skills. Draco was good, but he wasn't that good.

And Harry had thought this before.

No. I told Draco that, when we were making the potion.

And soon after Harry had learned why Draco had done so well at that Quidditch match.

But that was impossible now; they had left the amulet in the cell back in the Malfoy dungeons. And Draco had been glad to be rid of it, and not just because it could be used to track him.

As Harry pondered this, Draco finally flew down to the ground and got off his broom with impeccable style. Harry looked up and saw Draco headed right for them, but his gaze was looking past the group.

He strode by, his eyes never turning to Harry or any of the others, and it made Harry nervous for a moment. Had Draco fallen deeper back into his sneering old self than Harry had first thought? When they had been abducted together, Harry had gotten the sense that Draco was not yet fully committed to Voldemort. But his steel grey eyes, cool and unfeeling as he passed them, his remarks at the meeting and the fact that his father had yet to yank him out of school and punish him, led Harry to think Draco was swiftly becoming more of an enemy. And the skills he had just displayed before them were not natural, not in the slightest.

"What do you think that was all about?" Seamus whispered, after Draco had passed.

"Something sneaky, for sure. And probably illegal," Ron hissed.

They both turned and looked at Harry. He was still staring towards the door to Hogwarts, focusing on the path Draco had taken.

"What do you think, Harry?" Ron inquired gently.

"Hmmm?"

"Uh, about that unusual display of Seeker talent Malfoy just showed us? What do you think it means?"

"I... I think it means there is, er, something going on," Harry said, trying not to reveal what he really suspected. He was glad, for the moment, that Hermione was not there. She would have remembered the amulet he had told them about immediately.

Harry had an idea about what might be going on with Draco, but he knew he couldn't confide those details to Ron or Seamus. He needed to deal directly with Draco, which was something he was not looking forward to. That contact would be dragging up... feelings he didn't want to deal with. But if Draco was again under the guidance of his father and Voldemort, then Harry needed to confront him now rather than later.

"Do you think we should tell one of the teachers?" Seamus asked. Harry and Ron turned and looked at him blankly. "Oh right... you don't do that..."

Ron rolled his eyes and turned back to Harry.

"You know more about what was going on with Malfoy earlier and the whole episode with his father when you both got sucked through that Portkey. Do you think we should be worried?"

"Worried about what?"

The three boys looked up at the sound of the new voice and saw Hermione had joined them. They had been so busy discussing Draco that they hadn't noticed her approach.

"Worried about what?" she repeated, looking at their faces questioningly.

"Malfoy," Ron said finally. "We think he's up to something."

"He's always up to something," Hermione said. "What's happened now? Did you get into a fight?" She seemed to be surveying the three boys for marks of a scuffle.

"No, no... actually, he didn't even glare at us," Seamus began thoughtfully. "What made you come out here?"

"Oh, I finished with Noel early and figured I could come and find you three," she answered briskly. "He was out here practicing?"

"Yes, not that he seemed to need it," Seamus continued. Hermione still looked puzzled. Seamus walked over to her. "He was flying around like a maniac - but a gifted maniac. Corkscrew dives and catching the Snitch by standing up on his broom and then swinging upside down as it changed direction. I've never seen anything like it."

Hermione gasped and then caught a look from Harry.

"Do you think it could be the-"

"We really should get to dinner," Harry said, interrupting her with a meaningful look. "We can discuss this later."

"Okay," Ron said after a pause, brightening at the mention of food.

"So much for Quidditch practice!" Seamus joked as they started heading back to the great hall.

"Heh, maybe we don't need it," Ron said ruefully.

"Us maybe," Seamus said with a wink. "But I pity whoever has to go up against Malfoy as Seeker."

They all looked over at Harry who was suddenly blushing. He was grateful dusk had settled over them and hidden the flushed color of his cheeks. He was still thinking about Draco.

"Oh, I... uh... have an idea how he could be beaten," Harry said quickly. Hermione looked at him again, trying to figure out exactly what it was he was thinking about.

She decided she would just have to ask him later, maybe after dinner.

***

"Your Veritaserum was very well mixed for a student," Professor Snape said to Draco, a rare moment of pleasure showing through his eyes. "I was quite impressed."

"Thank you, sir," Draco said, tapping his fingers lightly on the countertop of the potion's table. His detentions had been more like private lessons in Potions than actual punishments lately. He was curious to see what Snape would teach him tonight.

"Truth serums, in all their forms, and spells such as the Veritas curse, are so successful because of how they subvert your own will when it comes to your thoughts and memories," Snape went on. "However, we academics like to think that every spell has a counter spell and every potion has an antidote of some sort."

"Yes," Draco nodded, feeling that he should say something to demonstrate that he was interested and listening.

"Even the Veritas curse, for example, should be able to be repelled some way. A few wizards have learned how to shield themselves from the Imperius curse, but no one has been able to break the Veritas curse. One would think it would be as simple as the Imperius, if not easier."

"But it's not," Draco said softly.

"Correct. The Imperius curse causes one to become subject to the whims of someone else, and to repel it you must get inside your mind and convince yourself that you are in control and that you don't have to do what they are saying."

"But...the problem with the Veritas curse, and with the truth serums such as Veritaserum, is that it deals with seemingly all parts of your mind, and gives you nothing to resist. All your thoughts are exposed and you are left speaking nothing but the truth," Draco concluded.

"Correct," Snape said, looking at Draco. "It is unlikely that sheer will alone could overcome that force."

"But... a chemical..." Draco mused.

"Exactly." Snape snapped his fingers. "If anything would work, it would be a potion which would serve to render such spells and potions useless."

"It would be a very valuable spell," Draco said thoughtfully.

"Yes, this is so," Snape said quietly. "But I also see it as a challenge to my potion skills. And I would like for you to assist me in the research and testing of potions we come up with."

"Certainly!" Draco agreed.

"But there is one condition," Snape went on gravely.

"Which is?" Draco said, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"You can't tell anyone about this. Not your friends, not another professor... not your father."

Draco looked at Snape, clearly reading his meaning.

He thinks I might report all of this to father and then Voldemort. On the contrary, I'm sure it's to my advantage to keep this a secret.

He smiled thinly. "Deal."

"I have your word?"

"Yes."

Snape almost smiled. "Well then, I'll take you at your word. The only ones who know are Professor Dumbledore, myself and now you."

"Excellent."

"Shall we get started then? We need not waste time," Snape said, back to his stern self.

"Yes, Professor," Draco said, reaching for some of the ingredients that were out on the table and handing them to Snape. He felt the amulet pressing against the hollow of his neck and realized he now had two valuable secrets in his possession.

***

"Do you think he has the amulet back?" Hermione asked in a soft whisper, even though Ron, Seamus and a few other Gryffindors were on the other side of the common room.

"I don't know. It seems like a good hypothesis though. The way he was flying... he had to have some help." Harry pursed his lips in thought.

"But I thought you said you both left it in the cell."

"We did. Draco said his father would be able to track him with it on. He didn't seem very fond of it; he had a few scars from trying to take it off."

"But he wasn't able to take it off?"

"No, I had to do it."

"Strange," Hermione said.

"Very strange," Harry agreed. "Just as strange as the lack of reaction from his father. I expected a huge punishment, and he seemed to as well."

"Maybe his father did punish him, and we just don't know. I have a feeling Lucius Malfoy is accustomed to disciplining his son to keep him under control and covering it up."

"True," Harry said. "But, considering Malfoy rebelled against his father so much - running away and freeing me as well... it seemed like Malfoy's father and Voldemort would have been furious enough to pull him from school and chain him up! I mean, they abducted him and threw him in a cell for not killing me or whatever during the Quidditch game."

"Then what do you think Malfoy had to do as punishment?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe he hasn't had to do anything yet. Maybe that comes later," Harry said quietly.

Hermione chewed on her lip. "Do you think he would agree to work for Voldemort?" she asked quietly.

Harry bowed his head and was silent for a moment. He heard the blood rushing through his ears, he saw the hatred in Draco's eyes as they fought in the hallway all those weeks ago... he saw the laughter in the same grey eyes as they bested Lucius Malfoy and escaped the cell. And then there was the desire, the meeting of lips on the train, the confusion, the manipulative snog in the hallway, and the cruel words at the prefects' meeting. He didn't know what to make of Draco any more. He was more complex than the spoiled, evil brat Harry had once thought he was.

"I don't know." He sighed deeply, "But I think I need to find out if he does have that amulet again, or something like it."

Hermione raised her eyebrows at this idea. "How are you going to find out? Go up and ask him?"

Harry suppressed a grim laugh. "If I have to, but I think I know a way." He felt a wave of determination come over him and Hermione watched, apparently in shock for a second as he headed for the door.

"You're going to go now?"

"What better time?" Harry called back. "I can catch him on his way back from detention."

Hermione shook her head and was about to rebuke him, but he didn't look back at her.

"Hey, Harry! Where are you going?" Ron called out suddenly, seeing his friend walk out the door. He had been busy chatting up Lavender; he had asked her to the dance at dinner and she had agreed.

"I'm going out, I'll be back," Harry answered back as the portrait door swung close again.

Ron turned his confused face towards Hermione.

"Should I be worried?" he asked aloud.

"We should all be worried," Hermione replied, feeling like an ominous cloud had just descended over Hogwarts. Nothing good ever comes of Harry's meetings with Malfoy, she thought to herself darkly. Nothing good ever comes of Malfoy, period.

***

Draco did not see Harry leaning against the wall around the corner next to the potions room. When he made the turn and saw him he stopped in his tracks, momentarily startled to see Harry waiting casually near the Slytherin common room. Draco knew instantly that Harry was waiting for him. He wasn't sure he wanted to analyze the plethora of feelings this realization caused him.

"Potter," he drawled, finally deciding to speak first. "How nice of you to come and walk me to my dorm."

Harry kept staring ahead, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Oh, Malfoy, I doubt you get worried about walking home alone," Harry said sarcastically. "It seems to me you have a little extra protection."

Draco took a few long strides so that he was almost in front of Harry, forcing the green-eyed boy to turn those eyes on him and not the wall.

"My delicate good looks that no one would want to besmirch?"

"No," Harry said darkly, ignoring Draco's jibes. "Something more dangerous."

Draco sighed. "Potter, amusing as your vague accusations are, I've finished my detention and will be going back to my dorm now. Good night."

As Draco turned to step away Harry moved suddenly from the wall and blocked his way.

"Potter," Draco said through gritted teeth. "Get out of my way."

"What are you playing at?" Harry demanded, just as hotly. "Something is going on, and you better tell me now."

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way," Draco said again, starting to walk forward. Harry reached out and shoved Draco's chest. He glared at him, daring him to try again to walk away.

"First, you fucking kiss me in the hallway to keep me from going to Dumbledore. I was supposed to trust you. Then you throw out cruel insults at the meeting, followed by your fake apology. And now you show off odd Seeker skills you don't have, and I want to know what that sniveling bastard of a father you have has to do with it, and Voldemort too for that matter!"

Draco was speechless for a moment, silenced by the combined impact of Harry forcibly restraining him and the words that had just flown out of Harry's mouth. He had never heard anything quite like it from the goody-goody Gryffindor. When he finally spoke again, his voice was like ice.

"What did you just call my father?"

"You heard me," Harry hissed back, showing his teeth.

"You fucking Gryffindor," Draco said, violently pushing Harry backwards. "You take that back."

"Never," Harry said savagely. "He's hurt those I love long enough, and if I have to stop him through you I will."

Enraged, Draco went to push Harry back farther when the other boy suddenly reached up and yanked at his shirt collar. The choking sensation stopped as the top button popped off, but by then Harry had his fingers inside the collar and grasped firmly around the amulet.

"I knew it," he declared in Draco's face. "I knew it."

"Get your hands off of me," Draco cried out, his steely eyes locked with Harry's glowering green ones.

"I took this off once," Harry declared. "Give me one reason I shouldn't yank it off now."

Draco regarded Harry's face for a moment; it was almost unrecognizable with the familiar features twisted into a hateful glare. Draco had tried to keep Harry out of this, but had only succeeded for two days. He sighed. He had to get Harry to let go.

"Because I'd hate to have to kill you right now," Draco said coolly. He used Harry's moment of hesitation to loosen the iron grip on the chain of the amulet, and used his extra strength to half-pick up Harry and toss him across the hallway.

Harry hit the back of the wall with a soft thud and collapsed on the floor. His eyes flickered open for a second, looking at Draco as if in a daze, before they slipped shut. Hastily trying to do up his shirt, Draco stepped over and felt for Harry's pulse. It was still beating strongly.

"You idiot," Draco hissed to the unconscious Harry. "You had to stick your nose where it didn't belong, didn't you. You never learn." He pulled out his wand and muttered the words of a few minor healing charms to deal with the scratches around Harry's face and arms, while avoiding any more physical contact with him. He then turned from Harry and made his way quickly towards the Slytherin dorms.

He entered the portrait hole made his way quickly and quietly down to his room. He opened the door and then charmed it locked. He didn't need any more disturbances or surprises.

The images of Harry, first looking at him with anger raw on his face, and then Harry unconscious, haunted him.

Now Harry knew about the amulet, once again. And once again, Draco would have to stifle the problem. It was his only choice.

***

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