Blast from the Past

1997

Hermione sat quietly watching him from across the room. She looked at the dark hair that seemed so much tamer these days, the glint of green from behind his glasses, the width of his shoulders, 'he's grown so much' as he bent over the book. She'd been waiting for the chance to see WHAT he was reading, knowing that Harry didn't spend that much time with books unless they were Quidditch related. 'Well, he didn't in the past,' she thought. Finally, he adjusted a little, moving the book so she could see the cover.

~Safety in the Darkness~

'Now why would Harry be reading something like that? I don't recall any of our classes requiring it?' Her thoughts were interrupted at that moment by her frustrated, red-headed boyfriend.

"Oi, 'Mione," Ron said as he plopped down on the couch with her. "Where've you been? I thought you'd be in the library, but you..." He trailed off as he noticed that she was still staring. He followed her gaze and found that it met with the image of his best friend in the world. Taking in Hermione's thoughtful expression, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear (making sure to let his breath tickle her neck in that way that made her squirm), "I could find myself jealous right now if I wanted to, you know."

Hermione turned to smile at him, the expression in her eyes letting him know his breath had the desired affect on her. "Honestly, Ron, you know there's nothing to be jealous of." Smiling sweetly, she leaned over and planted an innocent kiss on his cheek.

Ron barely had time to smile before she turned back to look in Harry's direction, only to find that he was gone. "Where'd he go?" She and Ron looked around the common room, curious as to where he could have gone. They hadn't heard a door close and he would have had to walk right past them to get to the portrait hole.

"He must have gone up to the dorm," Ron said, "just quietly."

Seeing no other explanation, Hermione nodded, but kept her troubled look. Finally she turned to Ron with her business-like 'we've got something serious to talk about' expression.

"Have you noticed anything unusual about him lately?"

"Like what? I mean, blimey, this is Harry we're talking about. Not much usual about him, is there?"

"I mean odd for Harry's normal behavior." She looked around, realizing the room was empty, but felt the need to continue whispering anyway. "He's reading something called Safety in the Darkness. Unless I'm mistaken it's about the Dark Arts. Last month, I noticed that he spent hours in the library reading up on the history of wizards good and bad, and something called Charm your Enemies or Curse your Friends. I have to admit, even with the restricted reading I've done, that one made me a little nervous."

"So you're worried because Harry's reading more?"

"No, it's more than that, Ron. It's WHAT he's reading. It's what ELSE he's doing."

"What else IS he doing?"

"Haven't you noticed that he seems to be getting along with Malfoy quite well? And even after that last detention, what was that - two months ago - they're almost..well.. CIVIL to each other! Plus, Harry's been working really hard in potions. I mean, it's great to see him taking school more seriously, but honestly it seems more like he's being influenced by something dark. He doesn't even smile anymore. And when's the last time you saw him looking forward to a Quidditch match?"

Ron sat quietly, taking in this information. 'I'm usually better at noticing things like this. I must really have my head in the clouds. It's all her fault. I'm so nutters about her I can barely focus in class, forget about noticing other stuff. Why did she notice it? Doesn't she feel the same way anymore? Maybe I really SHOULD be jealous of Harry? Maybe I...' He should his head, determined to stay on track here. 'Mione loved him. He knew that. She was just seeing something he wasn't. Something strange about a person that neither of them could see at the moment.'

HARRY'S POV

I'm sitting right here in front of them and they're asking where I've gone. This is absolutely too amazing for words. Hermione hasn't even noticed that my book is still here. I don't dare turn the page, though. I don't think I want anyone to know about this. At least not yet. At least not anyone in here.

Now wait a minute? Anyone in here? But there's someone else that I would like to tell?

~You know there is~

Ahh, there's that voice again. Not the snake from the Potions classroom, but the voice in the back of my head. The one that's been torturing me ever since I shook hands with Malfoy. I still marvel at that sometimes, over six years of knowing him before I took the chance to actually speak to him civilly. Before I reached out and accepted his touch. It's amazing that you can know someone that long, interact with them every day and never actually so much as touch their hand.

~That's not all you want to touch~

Shut up! So, Ron and Hermione are whispering about something. I'm guessing it's about me, but it's hard to tell for sure. I have been getting some really strange looks from Hermione lately. Neither of them have gone so far as to ask why Malfoy and I are getting along better. They haven't said anything about my improved Potion skills. They haven't said anything out of the ordinary. I'm glad of that. I really don't think it would do either of them any good to know what I'm doing. I try to keep our conversations normal, casual. I try to, but I'm not sure I'm succeeding. I'm rather excited, actually. All these years of fighting against Voldemort and his followers, I've felt so useless. Now I feel that I'm actually doing something. Something important. Something that can make a difference. And it's in large part thanks to Draco Malfoy.

~Perhaps you should go thank him in person~

For once, I decide to listen to this voice. Forgetting momentarily that I'm invisible, I get up and walk over to the portrait hole and through the opening. I realize I've left my book on the table and decided not to do anything about it after I hear Ron and Hermione asking 'who's there?'

I suppose it must be strange to see the portrait open for no reason.

I set out across the castle, determined to find a certain silvery-blond Slytherin friend of mine.

~*~*~

I honestly thought it would take longer than it did. He nearly ran straight into me as he burst out of the Great Hall. I could hear the familiar laughter of the Slytherin table before the doors closed. Wondering what they would be laughing at him for, I watched in amazement as he paused and closed his eyes. He stood there silently, fists clenched and took a few deep breaths before finally heading off toward the Slytherin dungeons.

I followed, of course.

~Of course~

Now is not the time. I want to follow him to make sure he's okay. To see if he needs..

~A kiss? A hug? A warm romp in the..?~

Stop! I sighed.

I didn't mean to actually sigh aloud, but I did and apparently Draco heard it. He turned and looked directly at me, directly THROUGH me.

"Harry?" he said quietly. Now, how could he possibly have known I was there? I looked down to make sure I was still invisible. Yep, nothing there. How could Draco know and why would he look so hopeful? I mean, I know we're friends now (of sorts) but I didn't realize he would actually WANT to see me..

~Like you WANT to see him?~

Yes, okay, I admit it. I'm finding Draco Malfoy to be quite the object of my lustful affections. I guess it started when I did a mental/magical exercise called 'Opening the Darkness Inside' where the wizard is instructed to focus on all the 'taboo' acts, everything from stealing or cheating to sex of all sorts to cruelty and unforgivable curses. With each act, you have to imagine yourself doing it and explain to your conscience why it's okay to do it. Only then did I realize that I wanted to do many 'taboo' things to that pale skinned, well toned body. And I wanted to stare deeply into those steel eyes while I did them.

Draco was still looking around the corridor, occasionally stopping to make direct eye contact with me while looking directly through me. How odd that he could know me so well that he would recognize my sigh, know the height of my eyes, feel my presence. I looked into those eyes of his, looked him over head to toe actually, and took the opportunity to notice a few things myself. For one thing, he was breathing just the tiniest bit faster than normal. For another, he seemed a little - scared. It seemed so very unlike Draco, having only seen this side of him that night with the snake.

~Let's hope he's not afraid of ALL snakes~

Oh, that voice in my head is really beginning to bother me.

I watched quietly as he turned again, apparently having decided I wasn't in the hall with him. He walked the same as usual, swiftly and smoothly, with a fluid-like motion that almost gave the impression that he was floating. His head was held high, shoulders back, accentuating his perfect posture and aristocratic background. He exudes such power it makes me jealous. It used to make me angry because I thought he was a phony. I thought it was all for looks, but having worked with him in potions, having studied with him in private, I finally realized it's REAL power. It's a deep, natural power and he has no problems with using it to get what he wants. That's the Slytherin in him. That's what I'm jealous of.

For the thousandth time, I wonder what would have happened over the last few years if I had allowed the Sorting Hat to put me in Slytherin. Would Charlie and Cedric and Justin still be alive? Would Lavender be in that coma? Would Hermione have been tortured? Would I still have been Snape's least favorite student?

"Good evening, Master Malfoy." I look up to see that Draco is being addressed by a portrait of a rather foreboding wizard in silver dress robes. "Password?"

"Potter," Draco says quietly. I'm shocked. He's using my name as his password? I suppose that's somewhat logical, no one would ever guess it. I'm stunned, but I follow him into the room through the portrait hole. Looking around, I see that the Head Boy definitely has some privileges. Not only does he have his own room, but he's got his own adjoining bathroom as well. The room is decorated in Green, Black and Silver, but what else would you expect from a Slytherin?

Draco flops into a big, cushiony armchair and leans back, staring up at the ceiling. I'm standing around wondering how to best reveal myself now that I've stayed invisible this long. Powerful magic. It's much easier to BE invisible, than to wear an invisibility cloak. I'm becoming more and more grateful for the decision to "rethink my allegiances" and increasingly pleased with how quickly I seem to be picking up these dark tricks. I realize that my friends would go nuts if they knew about this, but my goal is that they'll never know - and that they'll be safe. That's what powerful magic can do.

So, just as I'm wondering if I CAN consciously decide to be seen, if it's really that easy like the book said, Draco starts talking to himself.

"I just don't get it. I can't...I can't do this...it's..." He's silent. I wonder what he's talking about but my train of thought is quickly broken when he gets up from the chair and begins stripping on his way across the room. The shoes, robe, pants, shirt, tie, they end up scattered around the floor. Before I realize myself, I'm following him across the room, a sudden need to be near that beautiful body.

He stopped and turned so quickly that I ran directly into him. I automatically put my hands around him to make sure he didn't fall and I could swear that I saw comfort in his eyes amidst the confusion. I couldn't help myself. I kissed him.

DRACO'S POV

Bastards. They're all bastards. I can still hear them laughing as I storm out of the Great Hall. I feel like screaming. I feel like running outside and jumping in the lake. I feel like pulling out my wand and putting them all under the Cruciatus Curse.

Get a hold of yourself Draco. Such emotion is not befitting a Malfoy. I stop and close my eyes, fists clenched in anger and center my breathing to bring the emotions in check. After a moment, I'm feeling better, more in control (as much as I can be these days) and I turn towards my room.

Control. It's something I've been losing my grip on lately. Harry and I have been friends for a few months. It's become a fast friendship, and probably the first true friendship I've ever had. Crabbe and Goyle are imbeciles that I would never associate with if not for our family ties. Pansy is a giggling little twit that I can barely tolerate in a crowd, much less in private (despite what she seems to believe about a relationship between us). No, Harry's definitely different.

Harry challenges me. He's always been a powerful wizard, a well known fact since he survived the Dark Lord's curse as a baby. But now, he's really beginning to come into that power. He's got a sudden thirst for knowledge of all things dark. He's asked me for tutelage on potions, curses, hexes, astral projection and more. He's been reading any restricted books he can get his hands on. His drive and focus is almost frightening.

Though I consider him my friend now, we haven't made a public display of our camaraderie. I still don't know how my father or our Dark Lord will react to Harry's desires to change sides. For that matter, I still don't know what Harry's true desires are. Does he really want to change sides? It seems odd to me that someone who's spent so much time as The-Boy-Who- Lived and the Savior-of-the-Wizarding-World, someone who's fought for the 'good' team in so many battles would suddenly decide that joining the Dark Lord and becoming a death eater is the thing to do. I haven't asked him about it yet. I know I should, but somehow, every time I think about asking him, I catch sight of his eyes.

Those glittering emeralds are going to be my undoing, I can feel it. There's so much in his eyes, so much that I doubt he'll ever tell me. I wonder if he's talked about this to his friends. I wonder if they would understand it, because I certainly don't.

'What was that?'

"Harry?" I turned, fully expecting to see Harry standing directly behind me. I can almost feel his presence. I heard a sigh, correction, I heard HARRY sigh. I'd know that sound anywhere. I've heard it in class when he's frustrated with an assignment, I've heard it in the halls when we used to fight so much and he'd get tired of my snide remarks, I've heard it recently when we're discussing the Dark Arts and he's getting tired, but most of all, I've heard it in my dreams. I've dreamt about Harry so often lately, I'm beginning to think I'm obsessed. I keep looking around, waiting, hoping for him to step out of the shadows somewhere. I finally decide he's not there, I'm certainly not blind, so he CAN'T be there. I know he's not using his invisibility cloak because he loaned it to me three nights ago and I haven't returned it yet.

Apparently others in my house are beginning to notice something unusual as well, because they're commenting on changes in my behavior. Changes I thought I was concealing. Pansy's comment tonight about me getting soft was just too much. I know what she meant, just as I know the double entendre was intended. Everyone else knew it as well. The little wench will pay for that comment, eventually.

"Good evening, Master Malfoy." I barely pay any attention to this portrait anymore. He's some heir of Salazar from about 500 years ago and I can't remember his name 90% of the time. "Password?"

"Potter," I almost whisper it. I'd be humiliated if anyone from Slytherin knew it, but that's not why I feel the need to whisper it. It's hard now, really hard, to call him Potter. I've gotten so used to calling him Harry, both in my head and in person - hell even in my dreams.

Once inside my blissfully quiet, private room, I fall into my big comfortable chair, my favorite chair, and decide to think. I'm thinking about what's going on with Harry and me. I wonder if maybe it's time to send an owl to my father. I have the feeling that he and the Dark Lord would be pleased with the turn of events. After all, that's what they wanted of me six years ago. If Harry had accepted my friendship then, he would have been training in Dark Arts by the end of first year. He would have probably been invited to Malfoy Manor for holidays so he could continue to train.

"I just don't get it. I can't..I can't do this..it's.." There you are Malfoy, talking to yourself again? You've gone and lost your head this time, might as well run into a bludger for all the good your brain's doing you right now.

In my frustration I decide that a nice long shower would be perfect. I jump up and head to the bathroom, pulling my clothes off as quickly as possible. I know that a shower will calm me down, I'm very much a water person and can be easily calmed by the flowing water (not to mention the fact that I can adjust the temperature if a certain dark-haired Gryffindor invades my mind again). Just as I've almost reached the bathroom, I realize that I'm too particular to leave my clothing lying around like that - even for a few minutes.

I stop and turn to pick them up, but I'm unable to, suddenly finding myself up against an invisible body-shaped mass. The force of the impact nearly knocks me over, but I'm quickly caught and steadied by a pair of strong and comfortable arms. I can feel the robes, I can feel the torso against my own, I can feel one leg against mine, and I can feel the arms around me. The hands, resting on my back, just above my waist, are the only part of this mass that connects to me, skin to skin. It's nice. I can't explain it but I feel comfortable with those hands on my back. Before I have time to register this and say anything, my mouth is covered by invisible lips.

~*~*~

DRACO'S POV

I try to gasp but it's not really a gasp. Have you ever tried to gasp when your mouth is connected to another one? The result is basically your breath mixing with the breath in the other mouth. It's a bit sensual, to be completely honest. My eyes close. I certainly don't mean for my eyes to close, but I can't seem to do anything about it. The feeling that surges through my body, it's like I've been struck by lightening, rather pleasant lightening, and it's reaching through me to awaken every nerve ending I've got.

I can't seem to think straight and before I realize it, I've got my fingers tangled in the hair of my pursuer. I hear that gasp again and my mind screams 'Harry!' but my mouth won't form the word. I must be dreaming. I've fallen asleep in the chair and I'm just having another dream about him. I realize that he's never been invisible in my dreams, but it's not an unpleasant twist.

One hand removes itself from my back and I can feel movement. The robes are rustling against my bare legs, then, suddenly the familiar black robe (complete with Gryffindor badge) appears in a rumpled pile on my floor. Yes, this must be a dream, a wonderful dream and I'm not going to allow myself to wake up until it's completely over!

I can feel his lips on my neck and this time the gasp is definitely audible. His tongue flicks over the hollow of my throat and just as I'm REALLY beginning to get into this dream he moves away again. I was about to be very disappointed, but then I hear clothing rustling around again. Suddenly there's an empty pair of shoes on my floor and shortly after I see a dark read sweater land on the floor as well. Reaching out, I realize I can touch him. I've dreamed of this so many times, but it's never felt so real. If I thought he would feel like this in reality, I would try this when I'm awake.

It's extremely erotic, not being able to see what he's doing, what he's reaching for, where his lips are heading next. This thought is just crossing my mind when I suddenly feel those lips on my bare chest.

"Ahhhh."

I hear a very faint snicker. Merlin! I wish this were real. Was that a zipper? More fabric rustling and there's a pair of pants on the floor. "Interesting how the clothes appear. I wonder where my subconscious came up with this?"

HARRY'S POV

His subconscious? He thinks he's dreaming! How very interesting! On second thought, if I were suddenly being seduced by a person I couldn't see, I might assume the same thing.

Seduced. Yes, I suppose that's what I'm doing. I didn't really intend to, and now that I'm standing here in nothing but my boxers, I can't bring myself to allow him to see me. I'm thoroughly enjoying this and something about being invisible makes it feel so wicked, so exciting, so..DARK!

I'm amazed by the softness of his skin and the shivers that run through him as I trail my tongue down his chest, circling his navel, tickling along the edge of his boxers.

~Ahh, seems like someone's pleased~

Yes, I can see that Draco's pleased. I have the slightest bit of guilt at seducing him like this, when he clearly thinks he's dreaming. I wonder if he would react like this if he knew the truth. Has he fantasized about it as much as I have?

Suddenly, I can't do this. I grab at my clothing (noting that it disappears as soon as I touch it and wondering why that applies only to clothing) and I turn to run out of the room.

By the time I reach the portrait of the fat lady, I've dressed myself, discovered that I can indeed reverse the invisibility spell and calmed my raging hormones. "Nincompoop."

"Hmmph," the fat lady replies. "Perhaps someone should change that password," she suggests in a tone that tells me she's not in a very good mood.

"Yes ma'am. You might be right," I mutter as I walk into the common room.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*

Hermione and Ron looked up when the portrait swung open. "Harry?" Hermione asked. "When did you leave?"

"Where have you been?"

Harry looked at Ron, briefly thinking that it was really none of Ron's business, then immediately considering how insanely outraged Ron would be if he actually knew what Harry had been doing. Harry smiled to himself.

"Just went for a walk. I left a while ago. I'm pretty tired and still have some Transfiguration homework to finish," he said, nodding toward the staircase. "I'm just going to head upstairs. I didn't mean to interrupt you lovebirds."

With that, Harry picked up the book that was still open on the table, turned and went up to the boys dorm.

"Hmmm..what do you reckon that was about?"

"Probably just what he said, he went for a walk and he's going to do some homework."

"Really, 'Mione. You'd think that after all the WATCHING and NOTICING you've been doing that you would have noticed something seemed wrong about that."

"I did notice, but it's obvious we're not going to get any answers tonight. We'll just have to spend a little more time with him and try to figure out what's going on."

"You know, I really love it when you start scheming!"

Hermione simply smiled and kissed Ron goodnight. "See you in the morning," she said as she headed out to her private room.

*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#*#

Harry sat quietly in his bed, curtains drawn, wand lit, book open. He was determined to finish reading Safety in the Darkness by the end of the week. Draco seemed to think it was an odd choice, but hadn't asked any questions. Harry paused in his reading, contemplating the fact that Draco rarely asked questions about any of this. They had yet to discuss Harry's reasons for learning the Dark Arts, or how far he planned to go with this. Knowing that Hermione and Ron would have him committed to St. Mungo's, he had long decided not to tell them anything about his recent decisions. He knew that if they ever found out they would likely go through some very specific phases.

First, Hermione would try to analyze him and Ron would yell about Draco and threaten various hexes.

Second, Hermione would talk about going to Dumbledore or McGonagall and Ron would yell about Draco and threaten various hexes.

Third, Hermione and Ron would team up to convince him that Draco and/or Voldemort had put him under a spell, possibly even the Imperious Curse.

Finally, when they got around to believing that he was acting on his own will, they would despise him. Their feelings would be hurt, they would lose trust in him, they would stop speaking to him. He would become as hated and avoided as Draco himself. That thought hurt Harry. Ron and Hermione had been his friends for over six years and were primarily the best friends (not to mention the FIRST friends) he'd ever had. He didn't want them to hate him. But more than that, he didn't want them to die.

Listening to Ron, Dean and Seamus as they got ready for bed, the laughter and companionship in the dorm was comforting but at the same time reminded him again of all that had been lost. Neville would never be able to talk and laugh with them again. Harry thought back to when Dumbledore awarded Neville 10 points for standing up to him, Hermione and Ron in first year. That was a very brave moment for Neville. He showed his bravery on few occasions, but when he did, it was a great deal of bravery. The last time, just before Christmas in sixth year, was during the Death Eater siege at Hogsmeade. Neville saw Lestrange and Parkinson approaching the group, wands directed at Harry's back. He jumped in front of the Stupefy curse and was taken away by Parkinson when the Death Eaters left.

When Neville was found a few weeks later, his tongue had been cut out and he'd been exposed to the Cruciatus Curse so many times that his brain didn't seem to be functioning properly any more. His grandmother was highly distraught about it, yet somehow looked at it as a heroic act.

Harry didn't want any more of his friends being 'heroic' on his behalf. Ever. Safety in the Darkness would help him to make sure of that.