Blast from the Past

Harry awoke the next morning with a shooting pain in his scar. Pain this intense could only mean one thing, Voldemort was on a rampage. After the various battles over the last two years, Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape had put their heads together to create a medicinal potion for Harry that would alleviate the backlash he felt from Voldemort's attacks. Unfortunately, as they had seen before the last major attack, it only worked on what Voldemort considered 'mundane'.

Harry got up and grabbed some parchment and a quill, deciding that he needed to get an early start on his day.

~Moony,

I'm writing to tell you a few things, but I'll have to be quick about it because I've got tons to do. Firstly, hope you're doing well and that I'll be able to see you soon. I've still got my eye out for that rat. Secondly, as my surrogate godfather (and probably the only person I can talk to about this right now) I feel I should tell you that it would appear that I'm, well I have, ah-hem, I've got a b, no that won't work, I think I'm beginning my first romantic, no scratch that, my first intimate (?) relationship. It's not actually extremely intimate, just yet. I know I'm not making any sense, but as I've been dreaming of him half the night, well, you get the idea. Thirdly, I'm on my way to ask for a meeting of the Order. Something is up, more details later. I'll be fine, don't worry about me. I've got everything taken care of.

Please stay safe,

Son of Prongs~

Harry grabbed another sheet of parchment and scribbled an even shorter letter.

~Fawkes,

Order trouble, Gargoyle at 8 am.

Lightening~

Harry rolled up both letters and quickly got dressed, thankful that his dorm mates were still asleep. He grabbed his winter cloak and slipped through the door and down to the common room without disturbing anyone. At just after five in the morning, he knew that the chances were good that he'd be the first one up.

As he walked out to the owlery, Harry pulled his heavy winter cloak around him tighter. The biting cold seemed worse today than ever. Even last night, when he was out at the darkest hour of the night and sat in the grass that was now stiff with frost, the cold hadn't reached through him like this.

Of course, last night I WAS engaged in some warming activities, he thought with a grin.

He was still grinning slightly when he reached the owlery and walked up to Hedwig. "Hey girl," he said gently. He stroked her head and was rewarded with a drowsy hoot from her. Once the snow-white owl woke up completely and looked at her owner, however, she quickly changed her attitude. She turned partially away from him, as though she wanted to ignore him, but knew she couldn't quite do it. "What's wrong, Hedwig?"

She made a slight trilling noise which, to Harry's ears, sounded very much like Mrs Weasely scolding the twins for some prank. Hmm, he thought. I wonder what this is about. He tied the first letter to her leg and attempted to get her to look at him, but to no avail. "Well, should I use another owl, or can I trust you to take this to Moony?" With that, she looked at him, hooted indignantly and flew out the window. Harry shrugged his head and went to another owl in the room, attached his second letter, explaining that it went to Fawkes and watched as the bird flew out the window.

The young raven-haired man stood at the window, looking out over the grounds of the school that had become his home over the last six and a half years. As the winter holidays that would mark the midpoint of the school year drew closer, Harry found himself wishing the year wouldn't end. He'd never really had a home with the Dursley's, but in spite of spending his miserable summers there, he'd been excited and hopeful about returning to Hogwarts each year. This would be different. This summer he would be turning 18 and he would be through with school. Though he was still unsure what kind of career might be suitable for him, Harry was more concerned about what kind of home might be suitable. He'd never given it much thought before. Now, all he could do was assume that he'd have a small flat by himself. He certainly wouldn't be getting married like Ron and Hermione. He couldn't imagine going back to the Dursley's. Unexpected images of coming home to Draco's welcoming arms flooded his mind, but he pushed them away. Even if he were to allow this whatever-it-is to go any further, it could never be permanent. At least, not as long as it would put Draco in danger.

The intensity of that thought was the first clue Harry had as to his deep, undiscovered feelings for the blond. Feelings that went much deeper than the shivers and tingles brought about by the memory of Draco's tongue sliding gently across his lips. Draco's hands pulling him closely, as if they had to get rid of all space between them or they would surely die. Draco's teeth gently nipping at his neck. Draco's gasp when their tongues first touched each other.

Stop that. You'll never get anywhere if you stand around mooning like that. He quickly reminded himself of his purpose, his very reason for still being here, as well as the lives lost because of him. These thoughts were somber enough to dispel any comfort or joy he might have felt at the memories of the Slytherin. Realizing that he still needed to get some breakfast and prepare for his meeting, he left the owlery in a rush.

~*_*~

Harry sat in the empty Great Hall, enjoying his pancakes and eggs and decided that he rather liked having breakfast before everyone else. It was quiet, allowing him to relax a bit and spend some time with his own thoughts, thoughts that continuously conflicted with each other, but still his own thoughts. I just might start getting up at 5 o'clock every day! He chuckled to himself. Now, wouldn't THAT make Ron and Hermione think I've lost my marbles! Almost as much as telling them about Draco.

'HARRY!'

He jumped up, looking around frantically for the source of the cry. Someone was frightened, or in danger, or both. Someone who sounded too much like Draco.

'HARRY, PLEASE HEAR ME, PLEASE HELP'

Where are you? He could only hope the thought would actually reach the intended.

'ASTRONOMY TOWER'

Harry jumped up and ran, too scared to even contemplate what type of problem could have prompted such a panicked sound in Draco's thoughts.

As he burst into the Observation room he nearly froze in shock. Through the window (the same window Draco had fallen through before) he could see the bottom of a school robe and a pair of feet dangling below it. The person (Draco) wearing the robe had to be hanging from the turret at the top of the tower. Without conscious thought, Harry reached out with all the magic he had inside and grabbed hold of Draco, safely pulling him inside the tower. Once he was certain the young man was indeed safe and on solid ground, he gathering the shaking Slytherin in his arms.

"What in the name of Merlin were you doing out there? Were you trying to hurt yourself or have you just completely taken leave of your senses? What if I hadn't heard you? What if you hadn't heard me? What if I hadn't gotten here in time? You could have fallen; you could have d-" he paused, unable to say the word. His mind swam as he realized the multitude of reasons for his outburst. He wasn't just upset or nervous. He wasn't just sad or depressed about the deaths and loss in his life. He wasn't just enamored with the blond Adonis in front of him. He wasn't just wound up as a result of the run and the high magic. He was falling in love. "Gods, Dray. I can't do this."

Harry looked up into the glittering gray-blue eyes and realized that all his plans were going to be even more difficult thanks to those eyes. Those piercing eyes that seemed to reach through his own and deep into his heart, even into his very soul. Those eyes that were looking extremely tired this morning. "What's wrong, didn't you get enough sleep?"

"No, I haven't slept at all. I've been, erm, studying."

"Studying what?"

Instead of answering, Draco looked at the large table in the center of the room. There was a piece of parchment, a quill and three books lying on the table. Draco held out his hand and with a flick of his eyes, he was holding the parchment. With another flick, the quill began to float.

Harry laughed at this. "Couldn't let the Boy-Who-Lived have a talent that you don't have, eh?"

"Oh, but you do, Harry. You have no idea, but you do."

Their eyes met again as Harry offered a questioning look in response to Draco's quiet tone.

"What is it, Dray? You sound sad. I never knew a Malfoy could sound sad."

Draco held his gaze, raw emotion running rampant through his eyes. "You've never seen a Malfoy fall in love."

I don't know why I told him that. I just felt I had to. Yes, I was up all night trying wandless magic. My father's always told me I had a very strong bloodline and that I would be more powerful than him. I never thought about how powerful I could be, never thought about how powerful anyone could be, really. Not until I saw what Harry could do. When I FELT what Harry could do. The power and strength emanates from him now. That's why I can't believe he doesn't realize it. Though, from my early morning experiments and my very brief success at self-levitating, I can see where it's an amazingly heady experience.

Feeling this power within me takes my breath away, almost like Harry's kisses. I'm staring at his lips now. I can't look him in the eye anymore. I'm ashamed to admit that I'm afraid of what I'll find there, now that I've told him how I feel. Hmn, a Malfoy in love. That is a bit of a stretch. I've never seen anything resembling love between my parents. I never really gave a thought to love until recently. Never thought of marriage, relationships, sex, families and the like as anything but a way to further a bloodline. Not until late in our sixth year. Looking back on it, I can remember times, many times, when I was so attracted to him that I could barely force myself to walk away; ignoring the strange looks I got for passing up the chance to insult him. It's no wonder he never noticed. What reason would he have for noticing me or my behavior when he had real friends, a real life, not just some shell of a life designed for him by his father? His mouth. It's so perfectly shaped, slightly full lips, turning up just a bit at the ends, so tempting, so completely kissable.

Draco dared another glance into Harry's eyes. The two of them seemed frozen in the moment, as if time had paused around them to allow their minds a chance to catch up to the surging emotions.

I've never seen a Malfoy fall in love? What's he getting at? Surely he's not - no, he couldn't be. He can't be. I don't want him to be. Okay, I do, but I can't allow it. That would put him in even more danger. Unless he comes with me? That might work. I could bring him into - oh, who am I trying to kid?

Yourself?

Right, and I can't do that, can I? Because I'm in here and I know what I'm thinking so I can't be tricked!

He looks so sad, and he won't even look at me. I wish I could make everything perfect. I wish we hadn't fought all these years. Maybe things would have been easier if we'd been old friends who just fell in love like Ron and 'Mione. We wouldn't have all these- these issues. There I go again, trying to kid myself. I know better than that. It wouldn't have made any difference if we'd been friends before. There's still Voldemort.

~*_*~

Draco finally gave in to the urge and leaned forward, claiming Harry's lips in a gentle, yet passionate kiss. Harry gasped as he felt Draco's velvety tongue flicker over his lips. That same tongue slipped inside his mouth and he deepened the kiss, meeting it with his own tongue.

I honestly think I could live in a moment like this forever. His arms around me, his mouth on mine, his body pressed against me, it's enough to make me forget that I've ever had a problem in my life. Harry pulled Draco a bit closer to him, reveling in the sensations brought about by the kiss. I'm soaring. Even flying over the Quidditch pitch has never felt this good. There are these odd, fluttery feelings in my stomach that only flutter harder when Dray moves to kiss my neck. That sensitive spot behind my ear, the one he found last night, Gods, his tongue makes my wees kneak. MMMM, knees weak, yeah, that's - oh, this has to be heaven! I keep gasping for breath, not only because I know on some subconscious level that I NEED oxygen, but also because he smells so good. Like a fresh breeze mixed with something purely Draco. Mmmm, I never knew being bitten could feel so good. I'd have sought out a vampire years ago if it could make me feel like this. The slight pressure that's too much pleasure to be truly painful is gone after a second, replaced by that tongue again as I feel him licking the bite mark. I guess he's trying to make it feel better (which I didn't think possible) and it's working. I feel safe, I feel alive, I feel comforted. I feel - loved.

The comfort and certainty surrounds me and the unspoken promises and declarations are hanging somewhere in my mind but that one thought, LOVE, is right there in front. I put my hands on Draco's shoulders to bring the slightest bit of distance between us. As our eyes meet, it's finally clear to me - no matter what is wrong, or right, or good or bad, or safe or dangerous, this has happened. That love isn't just my feeling, it's his.

"You - hmm" My voice is shaking. I need to sit. No sooner did I form this thought than my legs took over and I plopped to the floor. Dray immediately sat in front of me, looking at me with concern. "You love me?"

He glanced away for a moment and I realized that I had spoken without thinking it through. I'm placing way too much confidence in my telepathy. Just because he kissed me doesn't mean he loves me. I open my mouth to make a joke of it but it never comes out because just at that moment, he looks at me and nods.

I can't help it. I know I shouldn't be happy about it. I know I'm going to have to work really hard to keep him safe and that it may hurt him horribly when I do what I know I must. But despite all this, all I can do right now is smile!

"I love you, too." I took a breath to calm myself. "Now, Mr. Malfoy," using my best 'I'm being stern and you'd better answer me properly' voice. "Would you care to tell me what in bloody hell you were doing hanging from the top of the tower?"

~*_*~

After Draco's jumbled, hasty, but enlightening explanation, the two newly in love young men left the tower together discussing the intense, but non-life threatening topics that all young lovers should discuss. What now? When do we tell people? What do I call you? When can we kiss again?

Only when they got close to the corridor leading to Dumbledore's office, did Harry remember that he had an 8:00 meeting to get to.

"Dray, baby, I've got to, er, what's wrong?" Draco had the strangest look on his face and a glint in his eyes that Harry had never seen before.

"Nothing," he grinned. "You called me baby. It's cute."

Harry groaned in frustration. 'I refuse to act like a girl just because I've got a boyfriend,' he thought. "Whatever, listen. I've got to get to a meeting, but can we talk after Potions or something?"

"Are you forgetting that it's Saturday? And a Hogsmeade weekend at that? You can come to my room after your meeting, I mean, if you want."

"I'd love to." Harry smiled and squeezed Draco's hand, leaning forward to kiss him quickly. Before Draco could react, Harry turned and ran down the corridor, leaving Draco gazing after him, shaking his head in wonder at the charge he felt course through him from that small contact with Harry's lips.

~*_*~

"Pixie Wands" Harry huffed at the gargoyle, trying to catch his breath. The gargoyle moved aside obediently and allowed Harry access to the spiral staircase that led up to Dumbledore's circular office.

"Ah, Harry. I got your note. Please, sit down. Tell me what's going on."

"Sir, I had another vision last night. It was the worst one since last year. Voldemort was torturing some Muggles again, but important ones. I heard reference to the Prime Minister. Then he was talking to Nagini and a couple Death Eaters about his plans. The Death Eaters never spoke and I couldn't quite tell who they were under the robes and masks, but he was telling them that he's going to storm the Royal Palace next week, then he's planning to take control of Beauxbatons, and finally go to Durmstrang and gather supporters. After that, they plan to attack here. He seems to think if he can control the schools, he'll have more power over the Ministry. I'm not sure why he wants to storm the Palace, though. Maybe to draw attention, or to gain power in Muggle society, I don't know."

Dumbledore sat quietly, sucking on a sugar quill. After a few moments of silence (during which Harry's mind began to wander to the most unpleasant of thoughts again), he finally spoke. "So, my dear boy, is there anything else you would like to tell me?"

"No, sir?" Harry was completely taken aback by that question. He remembered Dumbledore asking him that during second year when he was hiding the fact that he could hear a voice in the walls. He also remembered Dumbledore asking him that in sixth year when he was hiding the fact that he'd gone out to look for Ron during that two days he was missing. He assumed that Dumbledore had given up on getting information from him. At the moment, though..oh, THAT's what Dumbledore wanted to know about! His personal studies.

"Harry, I will ask once again, before I resort to demanding. Is there anything else you would like to tell me?" It was disconcerting how calm the Headmaster could seem when his words clearly showed that he was not about to take any guff.

"Yes, sir. I've been doing a bit of extra studying in the evenings."

"I'm not going to ask for details at this time, Harry. I believe in you and I have enough confidence to know that things will turn out as they should, no matter the choices that some people appear to make. Bear in mind, though, that I do know more of what goes on in this castle than you might think. Also remember that your magic can be felt by some. Those who are particularly receptive will notice a change in the strength of your aura. Those who are close to you will feel a difference in your presence. You might want to be certain you've considered those choices carefully before following through with anything, even in the name of the Order. I realize that you feel, rightly so, a sense of responsibility in the fight against Voldemort, but you must realize that there are things you do not yet understand. Things gone wrong that are in the process of being righted as we speak. Be careful Harry. I was very fond of your parents, felt like they were of my own blood. I would hate to see you do anything you'd regret when seen through their eyes." He looked at the young man knowingly, giving Harry the distinct impression that the elderly Headmaster could indeed see directly into his mind and heart and knew every thought, power and plan he had.

"You may go now. I'll call the rest of the Order together and relay your message. There's no need for you to be present. You look like you could use some rest."

"Thank you sir. I did have a fitful sleep last night. Please, stay safe."

Harry left the room as Dumbledore wondered how often the young man was worrying about the safety of others, and if he ever considered the safety of himself any more.