The Spaces Between Shadows & Night

by: Silver Prophet
the combined talents of:

Christmas slipped up on Draco while he was unawares. One minute is was Halloween and all that it revelled; next minute the Professors were prepping the classes ready for mid-term exams and Hagrid was bringing in the Christmas trees.

Snow fell, covering Hogwarts in powdered bliss; the Forbidden Forest bared as nature kicked the clothes off, bare and pure in the cold winter air. If any students had bothered to cast their eyes out the windows overlooking the lake just past midnight, they would have seen two figures lapping the lake, shrouded in darkness, in perfect harmony.

Draco enjoyed the silence with Harry is step with him. With Harry there were no reasons to fill the silences that lay between them as they walked, aimlessly in the middle of the night. With Harry there were no expectations, no fears of what could be conceived from their unlikely alliance.

Draco was surprised that his father had not contacted him yet, had not heard about his friendship with Harry and turned up; to yell, to scream, to lash out with anger, threats, empty words; but nothing came. Draco was disappointed. Right now, he felt like he could take on Voldemort himself, he was so high off this...whatever this was with Harry.

He felt powerful, exhilarated...amazed.

What with their midnight walks, many classes together, and even the odd study session together thanks to their combined mid-term Potions assignment, Harry and Draco were on quite reasonable terms. Any personal subjects were strictly off limits; Harry never quizzed Draco on his obviously extensive Dark Arts knowledge and why he never spoke of his family; Draco never pressed Harry on his childhood, his cupboard and the contents of his near constant nightmares.

They were not the only ones forming new friendships either. Hermione and Alena were becoming closer with each passing week, and Harry had speculated to Draco that maybe this was because Hermione didn't have many girlfriends. She had always been in the company of him and Ron, with her two roommates, Parvati and Lavender, shutting her out of girlie things. And with Ginny's new reluctance at any kind of friendship with the pair that she felt betrayed by because of their new choice of company, Hermione turned to Alena, and found a welcome friend.

Blaise was still on the scene, of course, but with distracted attention. This was all caused by a Sixth Year Ravenclaw by the name of Luke Stevens, who she had been swooning over for the past month. The last Draco saw of Blaise was the back of her head on the Hogwarts Express, snogging the Ravenclaw passionately, and it seemed, not coming up for air any time soon.

But the four remaining were becoming, although Draco would never publicly admit it, fast friends. They would all sit together in the classes they shared, with Seamus for company as well often enough, laughing and chatting, earning glances of curiosity from all the other houses, and even stranger looks from the Professors. Professor McGonagall, strangely enough, was the one most set against the blossoming friendship between one of her favourites and the blonde Slytherin, especially when Harry and Draco had started sniggering helplessly in the middle of one of her talks and were unable to stop for quite some time. She had held them back after this incident, and given them a stern lecture about respect, quality listening skills and the importance of her class.

When she had finally let them go they had collapsed into laughter again, running the entire way to Potions to try and beat Snape there. They just managed it, slipping into their respective seats across the aisle from the girls just before he bellowed in, both flushed and panting from the run there. This had set off furious rumours about the 'true' nature of their relationship, with the four of them chalking some of the more outrageous ones up on their private list of 'Funniest Rumours Involving Us So Far'. Some of the others included Harry, Hermione and Draco having a wild and illicit 'threesome' in an abandoned classroom; Harry dying of an incurable disease; Alena's plot to seduce Harry right from under Hermione's nose; and Draco's apparently confirmed fetish for leather pants, silk sheets and furry handcuffs.

Draco had scoffed at this, his head behind a book in the library with Harry sniggering next to him. He declared solemnly that he had never owned a pair of leather pants, had never known you could get such a thing as furry handcuffs; although he did own up to having several sets of silk sheets, on his bed at Malfoy Manor.

Harry had called him a poncy git, Draco had thrown a book at his head, Madam Pince threw them both out of the library for disturbing the quiet and reckless use of school property. They had ended up in the kitchens, talking to Dobby and stuffing themselves stupid with food and rich laughter.

But now it was Christmas, and Draco had slept luxuriously late on the second day, after spending most of the day before sprawled out on the Slytherin rug spread out in front of the fire, pawing his way through catalogues and Owl Order forms for gifts. This was one of his least favourite ways of shopping, preferring to scour the shops like a panther, hunting out that all illusive 'perfect gift'.

He'd already chosen his fathers, a new silver goblet with the family logo etched on it. It was classic, expensive, tasteful and utterly impersonal. His mother, Blaise and Alena were totally different kettles of fish though. He had been caught between a kimono, with a delicate silver butterfly pattern all over it, for Alena, and a bottle of vanilla perfume for Blaise when he had landed on the book section of his latest catalogue. It was there that he had seen it.

A slow, steady smile had crept across his face.

~~ ~~~ ~~

"Draco! Hurry Up!"

Draco's answer was lost in the thick material of his thick green sweater, and then he heard the hurried footsteps and seconds later, Alena flung open Draco's dormroom. "Come on!"

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Draco yanked on his thick winter coat and Slytherin stripped scarf and turned. "There," he spread his arms impatiently to the girl. "I'm ready. Let's go!"

"Finally," growled Alena. "Harry and Hermione would have started without us!"

It was Christmas Eve, and a fresh batch of snow had fallen though the night, leaving the whole world frosted and cool-breezed. Even the Forbidden Forest looked different; its haunting bare branches and black trunks were clumped with snow and icicles.

The two Slytherin clattered down the stairs and ran through the halls. They flung themselves out into the cool sunshine and thick snow, and Draco's face stung with the intensity of going from the warmth inside out into the brisk snow-covered outside world. He didn´t even see the snowball coming.

Alena dissolved into giggles at the frozen look on his face. Draco wiped a gloved hand across most of his face, and opened iced eyelashes to see Harry, doubled over with laughter, Hermione poking her head out from behind a tree. Draco was instantly kneeling and scooping up the snow and moulding it into a snowball, all while striding towards Harry.

"You're so going to pay for that, Potter!"

The snowballs flew thick and fast for the next half an hour, with all involved switching teams. It started off house-against-house, moved to a free-for-all everyone-for-themselves, then ended up, when the law of natural rivalries intervened, girls-against-boys. Which Draco thought was distinctly unfair, although he would never admit as much, as what Hermione lost in precision of aim, she made up for with her fierce enthusiasm; and Alena had a killer shot that could knock you senseless for at least a minute. Harry and Draco were back-to-back as they desperately tried to fend off the approaching War-Women when there was a series of loud barks, making them all turn.

A very large, very black dog was flying towards them across the snow, barking. Draco quickly recognised it as Snuffles, Lupin's dog that he had seen at the station. Harry confirmed this very quickly.

"Snuffles!" He dropped down onto one knee and soon had his arms full of shaggy doggy fur, a wriggling bundle of energy.

A mad scuffle ensued between Harry and the dog, ending up with Harry flat on his back in the snow, having his face licked enthusiastically, until Hermione tugged him off and gave him a scratch behind the ears.

"Cute dog," laughed Alena, catching the dogs attention for the first time.

He barked once, showing off in the presence of a pretty girl, tail waging, before catching sight of Draco. The reaction was instantaneous. A low, threatening growl started up, showing of canine incisors and fanged gums. Snapping and snarling, the hair seemed to be standing up on his back, causing Draco to back away, faintly alarmed.

"Snuffles! Hey, it's okay! It's just Draco," Harry spoke directly to the dog, holding him back just in case he suddenly launched himself at Draco. The dog wined at Harry, cocking his head slightly to one side. "You don't need to protect me."

The dog lessened his growls slightly, but the rippling mouth gave Draco the distinct impression that he had better not get too close to the shaggy creature. He dropped the snowball back onto the ground and scuffed with his toe, sending up a little dusting of loose wetness across the bottom of his cloak. Time to retreat, Draco old boy, Inner-Draco advised sharply.

"Hey, Alena," He turned to his friend, his eyes speaking in volumes. "How about some hot chocolate?"

"Now you're speaking my language!" cried the black-haired girl, rubbing her hands together in an effort to try and keep them warm. "Hermione? Harry? Are you coming in?"

The two Gryffindors looked at each other cautiously, before Hermione found a subtle reply. "We'll follow you in."

Alena nodded and fell into step beside Draco. They were almost to the door of the school when Alena obviously felt that enough distance had been put between them to strike up conversation again. "The package arrived this morning."

Draco turned to her, his grey eyes looking warm against the backdrop of winter. "Really? And everything set?"

"Yes," Alena inclined her head back towards the pair behind them as Draco held the door open for her. She mock bowed, giggling. "Why, thank you kind Sir!" Still smiling. "He's going to love it."

"Yes, he is," smiled Draco, genuinely. His eyes lit up quietly. "Race you!"

As Draco sprinted off, he heard Alena's squawk of indignation, before hearing her light and agile footsteps chase after his gleaming blonde hair as it splashed out behind him, the light from lanterns adorning the walls spilling out over him and making it dance more than usual.

~~ ~~~ ~~

Draco wandered back through the halls alone, some half an hour later, when he wondered where the Gryffindors had gotten. Alena had walked back to the dormitories alone, saying something about presents to wrap, smiling angelically.

He picked up his ears at the sound of Hermione's voice, distinctly coming from an empty classroom. He heard the sharp tone of her voice and flattened himself against the wall, sliding his way next to the door, straining to hear their voices from within.

"...I don't think we should tell them, Harry," Hermione sounded strained. "It's too great a risk."

"Why not?" argued Harry. "You think Alena's trustworthy, don't you?"

"Of course! But I still don't think we should tell them!"

Harry sighed deeply. "This is because of Draco isn't it? That's why you don't think they should know."

Draco raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to hear Hermione's answer. "Among other things."

"I trust him, Hermione. You said only a couple of weeks ago that he had changed, and I trust him."

"I don't disagree with you, okay Harry? But it really isn't our decision to make. It is simply not our call to make. Dumbledore wants us to keep it as close to ourselves as possible, and I just don't think it would be wise to tell either Draco or Alena."

"Ron knows. Have you thought about that recently? About the damage he could do if he was angry enough?"

"He would never-"

"Would you bet on it, Hermi? Would you stake your life on it? Because I trust Draco Malfoy more than I trust the one person who I counted as my best friend, aside from you."

Hermione sighed. "No, I honestly hadn't thought about that, but it's still not our decision to make. Look, we'll talk to Dumbledore about it later, but for now lets not fight about this, and just enjoy the rest of the day, okay?"

Draco never heard Harry's reply because of the echoing sound of feet coming up one of the adjoining passageways. Quickly considering his options, he turned and strode back the way he came, towards the Slytherin commonroom.

But unfortunately, he had not been quick enough. "Mister Malfoy, a word with you if you please!"

Draco turned at the last possible moment to face the stern Deputy Headmistress, rearranging his face into politeness. "Professor?"

"Walk with me a minute, Mister Malfoy," Draco glided into step with the thin Professor, thankfully leading away from the classroom where Harry and Hermione were talking. He was barely paying attention to Professor McGonagall, which was why her next question completely startled him. "I wish to discuss your motives towards Mister Potter."

"Motives, Professor?" Draco was surprised. He did not like the feeling.

"Motives, Mister Malfoy. What do you hope to achieve with this frankly transparent friendship?" Professor McGonagall never once looked at Draco, just kept walking.

Draco's eyebrows raised. "Transparent? I'm not sure I understand you, Professor."

"What are your intentions towards Harry?" Professor McGonagall stopped and stared down at Draco, making him feel, somewhat, like a first year. "Well?"

"I have no intentions or alterative motives towards Potter, Professor." Confused.

"Then I suggest that you stop this ridiculous charade post haste." A command.

"Charade?" Suddenly, comprehension showed up and danced naked in front of Draco. "Wait a minute...are you trying to tell me stop being friends with Harry?"

McGonagall looked down at him with a perfectly serious face. That's exactly what she's telling you, Draco, Inner-Draco pipped up.

"With every respect, Professor, no!" Forceful. "I will not cut off my friendship with Harry simply because you find it inconvenient!"

"Watch yourself, Malfoy."

"What really bothers you about our friendship, Professor? Is Professor Dumbledore worried that I'm going to influence the Golden Boy over to the dark side? Is that it?" Draco eyes grew wide as McGonagall's expression hardened. "Oh my, that is it, isn't it? I am not my father, Professor. I do not want to harm Harry, I just want him a part of my life, and I'm sorry if that offends you, but I am not going to just walk away from him, no."

Draco spun around and stormed away, the blood roaring in his ears. The cheek. He shook his head, trying to clear out his thoughts. How bizarre, was his last thought as he leaned against the nearest wall and pressed his face into his hands.

~~ ~~~ ~~

The portrait door swung open and Draco stormed into the scarlet and gold commonroom. His shock had dissolved on the way here, but the anger had hung around like a thundercloud, and his face showed it. He had gone back to the Slytherin dungeons first, only to find a note from Alena saying that she had wrapped and gathered all their presents and taken them up to the Gryffindor tower.

Harry looked up from his curled up position on one of the chairs when Draco stormed in and looked faintly concerned. "Hey Draco, what's up?"

Alena looked over to him. She was decorating the Christmas tree with Hermione, wands out, and she had just conjured up some pretty fairies that fluttered gently. "Who lit your fire?"

"McGonagall."

Alena and Harry looked over to each other.

"Ah," Hermione leapt in. "I was wondering when she'd talk to you."

"What do you mean, Granger?" Draco snapped.

"I got the impression at the last Gryffindor Prefects meeting that she's not too impressed by yours and Harry's friendship."

"Not impressed? Understatement of the decade, Granger. She obviously thinks that the only reason I'm friends with you two is because I want to turn Harry over to the Dark Side. She made herself very clear that I was to stop all relations with you immediately."

Harry choked. "You're not going to, are you?" his tone was timid.

"Don't be so bloody stupid, Potter. I've never taken the slightest bit of notice of threats and I don't plan to start now."

"Oh, that's good," Relief washed over Harry's face.

Before anything else could be said, the portrait swung open once again. Alena, the only one facing the door, screamed.

Draco flew around, setting his body in front of the two Gryffindors and Alena, his wand out automatically, his face set in stone. His wand tip was pointing straight into the shocked face of murderer and fugitive Sirius Black. "Don't move."

Sirius stepped back, his hands raised in defence. "Woah!"

"Sirius!" Harry's voice broke through Draco's concentration and all he was aware of was a black-haired whirlwind flying past him and throwing himself at the tall, thin man.

Hermione was suddenly at Draco's elbow, forcing his wand down firmly, her voice gentle. "It's okay, Draco. We know Sirius. It's okay."

Draco looked at her, the smile on her face was warm, then looked back at Harry and Sirius, both talking a mile a minute, then looked back to Hermione. "Trust you two to know a mass murderer. Someone start explaining now. I don't have the patience right now."

"Actually, he was innocent, Malfoy." Spoke up Harry, grinning.

"Whatever," Draco waved the comment away. "Well? Who's going to start?"

Draco sunk down into one of the chairs and shook his blonde hair out for his eyes.

~~ ~~~ ~~

"Trust you to have a mass murderer for a Godfather, Potter."

Harry glared at Draco over the tops of his glasses, while the blonde stretched his feet languidly towards the fire and blatantly ignored him.

The five of them had been talking for nearly three hours, rehashing and reminiscing. Draco had remained unusually quiet all the way through the laughter of Harry and his Godfather, the feelings of protection to the messy haired Gryffindor that he had felt earlier coming back through his in waves, and he couldn't shake off the crawling of his skin. He wanted to put it down to his confrontation with McGonagall earlier, but there was a little man in steel-capped boots jumping up and down in his brain, trying to get his attention, and he was not best pleased with the sensation. After all, this was Harry Potter. Why would I want to protect him? Draco questioned himself.

Sirius yawned suddenly, his jaws clicking back into place with a stretch. "Tired, Siri?" asked Harry of his Godfather.

"Just a bit, Harry. It's been a long day." Sirius smiled, gently.

"Go to bed then. Rest while you can." Harry's tone was warm, with an undercurrent of amusement.

"I think I will. Moony'll be wondering where I am in any case," Sirius stood, surveying the four teenagers. "Don't stay up too late you lot! I'll see you all in the morning."

"Night Sirius!" called Hermione, sounding happily tired herself.

Harry stood up and walked over to the portrait hole with his Godfather, hugging him tightly. Harry opened the door as Sirius transformed into his black, shaggy canine form and padded softly out into the corridor, with only the softest whines.

"Hey! It's past midnight!" Exclaimed Alena. "Merry Christmas!"

The calls of 'Merry Christmas' was passed around and Draco felt his eyes gravitating to the pile of presents under the glittering Christmas tree. He smirked.

Hermione laughed, catching the look on his face. "You think that it's present time, don't you, Draco?"

"Bloody hell, yeah," growled Draco back, still smirking.

Draco caught the amused glance that ran between Harry and Hermione, Harry leaning over to audaciously ruffle Draco's fine hair, earning himself a death glare that could have melted glass.

"Why not?" laughed Alena, adjusting her bright red Santa hat. "And as I'm wearing the hat, I suppose I'm playing Santa."

She picked up the first package, obviously a book. "To Hermione, from 'Don't Slap Me' Malfoy."

They all laughed, as Hermione gingerly unwrapped the present, trying to preserve the expensive wrapping paper. She flipped the leather bound book over when she finally released it and gasped. "Oh my. The Mythology of Magic and Star-Gazing. Draco, how on earth did you find this? I've been searching for it for years."

Draco tapped his nose. "That you will never, ever know, Granger."

"Thank you!" Hermione was dazed, flipping over the first few pages, still with a stunned look on her face.

Alena grinned, reading another tag. "Dearest Alena, from Draco," She placed this aside, with a smile for Draco. "I'll open it in a minute."

Soon, all that could be heard around the room was the tearing of paper and scattered bows made it seem like a sea of ribbon.

Alena swirled around the room for near on ten minutes in her new kimono from Draco, the silver butterflies shimmering in the low lights like dancing stars. Hermione was running her hands over the leather and dragon hide satchel from Harry, embossed with her name in Gryffindor red-and-gold, all smooth and suede lining. Harry was examining his wand polishing kit from Hermione with morbid fascination, despite Draco's rather personal comments about wands and their uses.

Draco himself placed his present from Alena aside, a well-thought out gift of silver plated puzzles; something that he could spend hours staring at and poking at and figuring out, even if he never figured it out, it would always be around to be pondered about.

He turned his attention to a rather odd shaped package, all lumps and bumps. He poked at it. Soft in one place, hard in some others. He raised his eyebrow, reading the tag with some amusement. To the Evil-Over-Lord-In-Training, from the Golden-Wonder-Boy-Who-Lived.

Draco pulled away the wrapping carefully, half-expecting it to blow up in his face, Harry watching on over the tops of his glasses. A flash of silver and pink, gleam of black gloss and Draco's jaw dropped. He pulled the paper of hurriedly, laughter escaping him in waves.

"Why, Harry, you shouldn't have!" cooed Draco, mockingly.

"Anything for you," chuckled Harry. "Poncy git."

"Well?" asked Hermione, wriggling with curiosity. "What's in it?"

"It's the 'Potter Productions Self-Ponce Kit', patent impending," laughed Harry. "Everything for the modern-day ponce!"

Draco chucked aside the black leather trousers with glee that, he noted, were exactly his size; ran his fingers over the classy dark green silk sheets, the perfect colour to co-ordinate with his velvet curtains in the dungeons; and held up the fluorescent pink fluff covered handcuffs with a look of absolute fascination.

"Omigod! Harry, where on earth did you find them?" shrieked Alena.

Harry grinned mischievously. "The twins helped me out."

"I'm going to have to have words with those two!" Huffed Hermione.

"Merry Christmas, Draco!" Draco threw a glare at Harry that could have frozen fire, before suddenly seeing the funny side of the situation.

They weren't quite sure who threw the first piece of wrapping paper, but soon the air was filled with ribbon and bows, spreading itself quite liberally over the room. When they all calmed down again, Alena reached for the last box under the tree, which was actually a smallish crate, with a green bow perched on top.

"Lucky last. Harry, this is for you." She handed it over to the black-haired boy, and he peered at it sceptically.

"O-kay."

The lid was soon levered off and Harry peaked inside, before gasping. He reached into the glass that was lining the box and very carefully extracted a rather slender something. It was a snake, with gleaming black and grey scales, little tongue flicking as it wound around his wrist. He looked up at Alena and Draco wildly.

"You got me a snake?" his voice was choked.

Draco nodded, as Alena explained. "My Uncle breeds them. This one won't get much bigger than she is, and everything you need for her is in the box. There's a magically run heat pad and there are some packets of food in there as well. Mostly they like crickets and large insects, beetles too, but I'm sure that she could have told you that herself. And we did clear it with Dumbledore first by the way, in case you're worried, and he saw no problem with you keeping a snake."

"We figured that you needed a Familiar and with a rare talent just lying around doing nothing, we decided that we should do something about it." Draco added softly.

"Thankyou! Both of you, thankyou!" Harry turned his attention back on the snake, hissing quietly to it, his face soft in the firelight. His emerald eyes turned up to them a few moments later. "Her name is Shilya."

~~ ~~~ ~~

Nearly two hours later, the fire in the grate was burning low and Draco was spread-eagle on the floor in front of it, one side of his body felt deliciously hot while the other side felt comfortably cool. Alena and Hermione were talking in low voices on the couch and Draco could hear Harry's low hissing to Shilya, a distant buzz in his ears that made him feel wonderfully safe. For once in his life, he was happy. Uncontrollably, pathetically happy.

Happy not to be bored out of his skull at one of his mothers Christmas Eve parties, happy not to play the familiar role of charming and good-looking son for his father and all his fathers friends. He was happy to just lie here and enjoy the silence. He hummed under his breath, drummed his fingers on his ribcage, a light dancing feeling from being just past the need for sleep.

Harry shifted near him, making him turn his head. He was placing Shilya away in her tank that he had removed from the crate some time ago. Harry caught him looking at him and smiled. "She's tired. I'm going to move her up to my room now."

"I'll give you a hand." Offered Draco, rising himself up first on his elbows, then to his knees, and finally to his feet.

"Thanks."

Together, they lifted the tank carefully from the floor, manoeuvring it between the chairs and up the circle stairs with some trepidation. It was a risky business, Harry moving backwards most of the way, his footsteps low and careful on the slightly uneven steps. By the time they reached Harry's dorm room, Draco's arms were aching from the strain, his shoulders feeling twisted and uncomfortable.

Harry kicked backwards, the door swinging open and hitting the wall with a dull crash. They placed the tank on Harry's bed while he cleaned off his bedside table, sweeping most of the clutter into the top draw. The tank was soon installed though, Shilya curled up under one of the rocks quite happily and Draco took the opportunity to have a look around.

"So, this is where the Wonder Boy resides." Commented Draco, stretching his back out, turning in a full circle.

"Yep. This is it." Harry disappearing under the bed for a minute, chasing after a pen that had rolled in that direction, missing the open drawer. He emerged, slightly dusty and his hair looking even more ruffled than usual.

Draco smirked. "I should have brought you a brush for Christmas, not a snake, Potter."

Harry scowled. "Well, I should have gotten you a set of manners instead of leather trousers, Malfoy."

"I'll have you know, Potter, that my manners are impeccable, you just don't have the intelligence or breeding to appreciate them."

"Breeding? More like inbreeding, Malfoy. All that pure blood is going to your head."

"Hey!" With a low growl, Draco launched himself at Harry.

They wrestled Hogwarts-Style for some minutes, the whole match being undermined by the laughter that stemmed from being so relaxed and happy.

Somehow, they ended up on Harry's bed, out of breath and laughing, Draco with one leg wedged between Harry's own being held there as Harry tickled him mercilessly, Draco hovering above him, unable to move. Somehow, between the gasps and playful wriggles, between the rule-breaking tickles and soft punches, somewhere between Draco throwing his head back and Harry trying to sit up, despite Draco's weight on top of him, they came within inches of each other. Somehow it just seemed natural for Harry to close the gap between them, hands resting on Draco's hip and small of his back, and press his mouth to Draco's.

There was nothing fantastic about this kiss.

There were no birds singing, no violins playing in the background, no angels appearing in wonderment. There were no sudden flashes of realisation, no total moment of clarity, no thoughts of perfection, or coming home, nor any groundbreaking truths.

It was a messy kiss, and clumsy, and tongue-tied, and utterly beautiful.

Their noses clashed awkwardly, Harry pulling backwards, then forwards with every intake of breath because of the strange angle of his head. The bottoms of his glasses dug into Draco's cheekbones as Harry nudged Draco with his lips, trying to prompt a response.

Harry had morning breath and Draco tasted of the cool minty taste of someone else's toothpaste. Harry seemed to not know quite what to do with his tongue, flicking it out and lightly ran it over Draco's bottom lip experimentally.

Something in Draco kick-started.

He had kissed, and been kissed, many times before, but never before with the unerring innocence and naivety that was stretched underneath him, kissing him; that went by the name of Harry Potter.

He reacted.

He was off Harry, out the door, and halfway down the stairs when the first panic attach hit him. He kept running, stumbling for dear life, his hands on either side of the stairs wall trying to keep his balance. He fled past the astonished Hermione and Alena who were seated in the common room, comfortably rugged up in blankets and pillows, never hearing Alena's call to him because of the blood pounding in his ears.

The second panic attack ensnared him at the top of the stairs leading down into the front entrance. Draco continued to run as if his life depended on it, his silvery blonde hair flying out behind him, bursting the front doors open and ignoring the snow and the cold attacking his burning lungs.

He couldn't breathe, suddenly feeling like a child again, helpless. He sank onto one of his favourite rocks by the lake edge, burying his head helplessly in his hands, too tired for anything.

He had run, rather than face whatever it was his screwed up life was offering to him now. He had run so hard and so fiercely that he could no longer see, hear, feel, breathe; his legs felt like jelly. His mind was still running even now, making him want to hide somewhere very safe until all the questions, that were all hanging over him like a death sentence, went away.

Draco was no stranger to cowardice.

It had condemned him so many times that he felt like he was at Deaths' Row. It had condemned him once, when he had been seduced by Pansy's older sister Rose when he was thirteen and too tipsy to fight off her advances. It had condemned him twice by never telling his father over the Summer what he could do with his Slytherin Pride and Voldemort Ways and living his own life his own way, not as a mini-Malfoy puppet with his father holding all the strings. It had condemned him thrice when he had run from Harry just now, left his mouth and warmth and dorm and house tower and school and fled down to his spot, their spot, by the lake. Cowardice formed the bars of his prison and he wasn't sure if he was ever going to be able to make it out again and feel the warmth of freedom against his face.

Hot tears streaked his pale cheeks and he sobbed dryly, not understand anything anymore, it was all just a muddle in his confused mind.

It was only when he felt the thick cloak being pressed around his shoulders minutes later did he realise he was shivering with the cold, quickly drying his face on his knees before lifting his head, drawing the warmth around him.

"What's the matter, Draco?" asked Alena quietly, sitting next to him and sliding her arms around him, cradling him to her.

He shook his head blindly, his throat constricting because of the tears and anguish. She slid her fingers through his hair and dried his eyes carefully with her thumb, leaning close to him, sharing her warmth.

"What's got you so upset? You were fine before...what's happened?" Her tone sounded desperate. "Please tell me Draco, please."

He shook his head again and with his hands tried to motion the words out of his throat desperately, wishing to be able to tell Alena, wanting the Malfoy Cowardice Curse to be lifted from his slender shadow forever.

"Potter--" His voice faltered. "--Harry--" He tried again. "--Me--" Desperate now. "--Kissed."

He felt Alena's sharp intake of breath against him, the cold and sorrow catching him off-guard again.

The fear had a name now, it had a face, a startling sort-of-handsome face, with messy black hair, startling green eyes and unbearably soft, soft mouth. It grew and it multiplied and it began crushing Draco under its heal while he folded his arms around his knees while he sobbed into them once more.

And Alena cried too. Cried for Draco, cried for the fear of possibility, cried for Harry back in the tower, who was no doubt crying too, not understanding. She wrapped her arms around Draco tightly as they sat out next to the lake, the snow beginning to lightly fall again, her face pressed into his hunched spine as he howled and shook, frightened by despair and the haunting face of Something More.

~~ ~~~ ~~
TBC
~~ ~~~ ~~