|
Chapter V Harry stared at his oatmeal, watching the top layer slowly dry out, the blueberries he'd poured on it earlier gradually dying his breakfast blue. Around him, the Great Hall was noisy as usual, but the Gryffindor table was strangely subdued. Most of them had seen the points board this morning and nearly had coronaries at the sudden drop in status, yet no one was sure why. The older one's knew the last time this happened, it involved a few arrogant first years who were now fifth years. While there were suspicions this was the case once again, no one voiced them. Harry Potter was much more than a name to them these days. Harry pushed his breakfast away, his stomach churning. After Ron said he'd wished Draco would drop dead, Harry had fled up the stairs and grabbed his invisibility cloak, determined to find the Slytherin at any cost, just to be sure he was all right. At first, he didn't know where to go, but decided to start out by heading towards the dungeon. Professor Snape nearly plowed into him as the man rushed up the stairs, an urgency in his steps that set off warning bells in Harry's mind. He followed the older man to the Hospital Wing and breathed a sigh of relief as the one who'd been plaguing his dreams was sitting calmly, playing cards with the Nurse, and not at all dead. What he'd heard shortly after caused the relief to vanish from his system and be instantly replaced with an all consuming dread. Connected. To Draco Malfoy. And it was all his fault. The dreams weren't his dreams at all! They'd been Draco's and Harry was just an observer. That's why he couldn't move, that's why he couldn't help. Would he be forced to live through this every night? Was it part of the punishment for casting the broken spell that altered Draco's mind that he got to suffer through the nightmarish consequences? Draco's life had metamorphosed. He had new abilities, new gifts, and he was no longer normal. His perception had changed forever. He was tied to Harry forever. And it was all his fault. Harry felt like crying. "So..." Seamus said, trying to break the tense silence, "Anybody read that article in the Prophet about the new Quidditch regulations proposed by the Magical Sports and Activities Committee?" He looked over at Ron, hoping for a response, but the redhead continued to sit very still, staring at the wood grain on the table. Hermione hadn't come to breakfast at all, and Seamus, who had received his share of "Breakfast is the Most Important Meal of the Day" lectures from the bushy-haired prefect, thought this was very odd and disturbing. Ron stood up suddenly and walked out of the Hall, never saying a word. Seamus and Dean exchanged a look. "Harry," Dean began. The bespectacled boy looked up, his eyes filled with exhaustion. Dean swallowed. "Harry, what happened?" Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, reflexively running a hand along his forehead. "We're in trouble," he said simply. "We figured as much after seeing the points this morning," Seamus said, looking like he'd bitten into a particularly foul-tasting Bernie Bott's bean. Harry nodded. "Remember when we cursed Draco and his friends on the train at the end of last year?" he asked. "Sure do," Seamus chortled. "They looked fantastic." Harry bit his bottom lip. "Professor Snape found out about it." "That little twat snitched on you?" Dean said, his voice rising in anger. "Bloody Hell, why does he always have to run like a little girl for help every time he gets razzed on?" "I think it's more serious than that," Harry said softly, trying to keep Dean from getting any louder. "Yeah, well, look at him, sitting there like he's so much better than the rest of us," Seamus grumbled. "I just wish he'd get his someday." Harry turned around in his seat, not previously aware that Draco had entered the Great Hall, then blinked. Draco was facing away from the Gryffindor table. * * * * * * Draco picked at his breakfast, looking up occasionally to stare at the wall in front of him. It was a different view, he could appreciate that, but he knew the risks associated with keeping one's back turned away from potential enemies. Greg had given him an odd look when he sat down in the bigger boy's chair, but said nothing. Draco's expression clearly radiated a "Leave Me Alone" attitude, so Greg, along with the rest of the Slytherin House did just that. They knew when to respect each other's moods. Draco's mind whirled with conflict. Severus would no doubt be instantly aware of his favorite student's continued exhaustion and would want to know why. Should he tell the man about the connection he'd formed with Harry Potter? The plan was so close to fruition - could they risk a security breach with the Gryffindor if Draco's mind slipped in the middle of a nightmare? Severus was right, of course; Gryffindors possessed the most irritating quality of sticking their noses where they didn't belong. If Potter found out what he and the Potions Master had planned, would he interfere, or just stay out of it? Draco knew in his heart that the boy would indeed interfere, generally making a nuisance of himself and no doubt putting the plan at risk. Too much work had gone into it at this point, too many risks had already been taken by those who would suffer dearly if their roles were to be discovered, Draco's own father included among those who stood to lose the most. But if nothing could be done about his connection to Potter, as was plainly obvious to Draco if nothing had been done to break the bond between The Boy Who Lived and The Dark Lord, then was it worth worrying his Godfather about it? Draco didn't know. Angry words startled Draco out of his revelry. He looked down the table, where some Slytherin seventh-years, led by Bane Relesky, were apparently harassing one of the younger students. "Your family is full of cowards," hissed Bane softly. The first-year, Maria, Draco thought her name was, shrank down in her seat, looking anywhere but at the burly boy standing over her. Draco looked quickly over at the teacher's table, but none of them seemed to be paying any attention. Severus hadn't even attended breakfast this morning, no doubt still busy with the Wolfsbane potion. He looked back at the altercation occurring so close by, debating whether or not to get involved. "I d-don't know what you're talking about," whispered Maria nervously, looking around. Most of the Slytherins had turned their heads away from the scene, either looking at their meals or at nothing at all. "The hell you don't," Bane spat. "My father..." "Your father is drunken sod with mush for brains," Draco said, almost slapping a hand across his mouth seconds later. Blaise gave him a wild-eyed look of concern and surprise, as did Greg and Vince. Too late to take it back now, Draco thought to himself as Bane walked towards him. Draco rose to his feet. "What did you say?" Bane asked. "Your hearing dropping with your I.Q?" Draco quipped, then narrowed his eyes. "I know it makes you feel big and tough to pick on little girls who can't fight back, but I won't have you cursing in front of a lady." "Why, I oughtta," the bigger boy said with a growl, curling his hands into fists. "I don't think so," Draco replied evenly, his voice dangerously low. "Now, you're going to shut your mouth, go sit down, and finish your breakfast." Bane uncurled his fists and took a step back. Draco's voice left no room for compromise and promised a swift and brutal end if one did not comply. Draco could actually see fear in the bigger boy's eyes. Bane started to turn away, then paused, pointing an accusatory finger at the blond boy. "I'm watching you, Malfoy," he said angrily, then stomped back to his chair, followed by the rest of his entourage. Draco rolled his eyes and primly retook his seat, lifting up his spoon to stir his oatmeal. "They never just leave," he said, giving an exasperated look to his three friends. "They always have to say something." "That's bullies for you," Blaise replied with a wry smile. "Vince, pass me the sugar, will you?" Vincent, still a bit shell-shocked at the uncharacteristic show of bravery and chivalry displayed by his friend, blinked stupidly at Blaise's request and promptly handed him the salt. Blaise looked down at the salt shaker that had been pressed into his hand, frowning. With a low chuckle, Draco pushed the proper bowl to his friend. "Thanks," Blaise said, using a spoon to cover his oatmeal with a fine layer of sugar. "Hey, uh, Draco?" asked Greg from where he sat across from him. "Yes?" Draco replied with a sigh, hoping he wouldn't have to explain his actions in such a crowded setting. Greg said nothing for a moment, looking at a point over Draco's shoulder with deep interest, a spoonful of food halfway to his mouth. "Potter," he said finally. Draco stiffened in his seat. Had they guessed? How could they know? How did... "He really is staring at you," Greg finished, breaking through Draco's worried thoughts. "Pardon?" he asked, his mind still filled with panic. "Potter is staring at you," Greg said. "He'd been doing it all morning. He's doing it right now." Draco turned around and met Harry's eyes. This time, neither turned away. * * * * * * "Now, if any of you managed to brew the potion correctly, which would be a miracle in itself, it should be blue and thin," Professor Snape snapped as he walked around the room, occasionally producing disapproving sounds and making little marks on a parchment in his hand. He stopped and Neville's cauldron, gazing down with a distinct look of disdain. "Mr. Longbottom," he said, his voice icy. "What is the color and consistency of your potion?" "Um," Neville began nervously. "R-red? A-a-and a little thick?" A "little thick" was an understatement. The stirring spoon Neville had been using was frozen solid in the potion and no amount of tugging or pushing could make it move. Professor Snape closed his eyes and muttered something unintelligible under his breath. He looked back at Neville. "Mr. Longbottom, take your cauldron off of the fire before the damn thing explodes!" he growled and the boy hurried to comply. Shaking his head with disgust, the teacher walked on. He moved straight past Ron, Hermione, and Harry, not saying a word, not looking at their potions. Harry watched as he walked by, the knot of apprehension in his chest getting tighter with every passing minute. Why wasn't he yelling at them? It seemed as if the meeting they'd had the day before never occurred. Professor McGonagall certainly hadn't met with the three of them yet. The silence worried Harry, as did the waiting. Snape stopped over at the Slytherin side of the room, allowing a small smile of satisfaction as he checked Draco's potion. "The rest of you could stand to learn something from Mr. Malfoy," he said, a hint of pride in his voice. "His potion is perfectly concocted. Ten points to Slytherin." Draco smiled. The chime signifying the end of the period echoed through the room and everyone began to shuffle around, cleaning up their potion supplies and putting the room back in order. "Your scrolls on the Identitus Potion are due tomorrow. I expect them to perfect with full bibliographies. Anyone not turning in their scroll will receive a detention and points from their house," Snape said as he moved back to the front of the room. "Now, all of you get out of my classroom." Harry rushed to get out of the room as did Hermione and Ron. Picking up his book-bag, he was about to leave when Snape's voice stopped him. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, a moment," he called to them. He also nodded to Draco, who held back as well, waiting patiently by his desk. "Now," Snape said to the gathered students, "the three of you will first apologize to Mr. Malfoy for your actions on the train at the end of last term." Ron looked as though he might protest but a sharp look from the Professor stilled him. "Sorry, Malfoy," he muttered. Hermione nodded in agreement. Harry looked at Draco, who met his eyes easily, then took a deep breath. "I'm so sorry, Draco," he said, his apology truly heartfelt. Draco raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. Snape nodded, pleased with the apologies. "As you may have surmised, I have not yet spoken with Professor McGonagall regarding your behavior," said the Potions Master. Hermione was shaking. "Make no mistake, I will be doing so shortly. Your detentions start this evening. You three, plus your two brothers, Mr. Weasley, will report to Mr. Filch's office. He will find something suitably unpleasant for you to do. The rest of your punishment will be worked out with the Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, and myself." "Please, Professor," Hermione whispered, her voice wavering. It was the first words she'd spoken all day. "Please, it was just a stupid mistake. I know we shouldn't have cursed them, but it was in the heat of the moment and we weren't thinking clearly." She looked over at Draco, who stared back at her impassively. "He doesn't look like he suffered any permanent injury and we acknowledge our mistakes. Please, don't take Harry and Ron off the Quidditch team. Please, don't take away my prefect status!" "The rest of your punishment will be discussed later," Snape said slowly, not at all impressed with Hermione's hopeful begging. "You three can go." He turned away from the Gryffindors, walking over to his desk and looking through the parchments on his desk. Hermione and Ron shuffled out of the room, but Harry waited, turning to meet Draco's eyes once again. Does he know? Harry wondered. Does Draco know what's happened to him? Does he know we're sharing dreams? Almost imperceptibly, Draco nodded at his unvoiced questions. Harry took a step back in shock. A thought filled his head, one that didn't belong to him. We'll meet later, it said. We'll meet later and figure out what to do. Don't tell anyone. Harry reached back and grabbed the edge of the table behind him, feeling dizzy. "This isn't happening," Harry said softly. Professor Snape whirled around and glared at the Gryffindor. "Why are you still here, Mr. Potter?" he said harshly. Harry looked at his professor, having momentarily forgotten he was still in the room. "Leave! Now!" Harry spun around and ran out of the room. The Professor shook his head, then turned to look at his Godson. "It did work," Draco said, cutting off the questions he knew were coming. "The potion worked fine. I know I look tired, but I'm just recovering still." "Are you positive?" Severus asked him gently. Draco gave him a little smile. "Absolutely," he assured the older man. Severus reached out and clasped Draco's shoulder briefly, content with his answer. Draco squashed the guilty feeling settling in his gut at hiding his connection with Potter from him. "Good," said Severus. "Tomorrow night, I'll start teaching you how to brew it yourself. You should have no problems learning it." Draco nodded, then frowned. He turned his head, looking briefly in the direction of the departed Gryffindors. "Why haven't you told Professor McGonagall about them yet?" he asked. Severus ran a hand through his greasy hair. "I'm trying to decide how much I want to tell her and the Headmaster. They're Gryffindors, both of them. They might start asking too many questions." "You don't like leaving them in the dark, do you?" Draco asked, worriedly. "No, I don't." Severus walked away from Draco, running a hand over a nearby lab table, checking to see if his students had done an adequate cleaning job. He frowned. They didn't, as usual. "But I can understand your father's wish to keep this secret," he said, looking back at his student. "I remember what it was like when I was in school." "Do you think it will get that bad again?" Draco already knew the answer, but he felt like he needed to voice the question anyway. He started to pick at the sleeve of his robe, but stopped himself, the voice of his Etiquette Coach shouting in his head. "It will be worse," Severus said darkly. "It will be much worse." Draco started to pick at his sleeve anyway. "You weren't at breakfast." "No, I was stuck at my cauldron all morning," came the reply. Severus noted Draco's expression, his eyes darkening. "Something happened." "Tensions are starting to rise." Draco sighed, hopping up to sit on the lab table behind him. "Bane Relesky harassed a first year right in the middle of the Great Hall. He didn't care who heard him." "And?" Severus asked, closing his eyes briefly and raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. "And..." Draco hedged, "I defused the situation." Severus sighed and glared at his student. "Draco, you are supposed to be keeping a low profile. If anyone discovers what going on, you could be putting yourself, as well as others, at great risk!" "He doesn't suspect anything more than usual," said Draco, sliding off the table, hurriedly reassuring his teacher. "You know what he's like, all hat and no cattle. Nobody listens to a thing he says anyway. The plan isn't in danger." "For the sake of everyone involved, I hope not," Severus said. "Still, it might be best to step things up." Draco nodded. "I agree." "I have to finish the Wolfsbane potion before I can solely turn my attentions to this matter," Severus replied, his mind rolling with potion schedules and timetables. "I think we should target early November." "Should I speak with my father, or you?" Draco asked. "I will. I have to speak with him anyway. Speaking of which..." Severus walked around his desk, digging through one of the many drawers. "Ah, here it is!" From the depths of the desk, Severus removed a small, cloth-wrapped bundle, then walked back to Draco and handed it to him. "What's this?" Draco asked, unwrapping it. Inside the bundle was a palm-sized gray stone, small flecks of silver glittering in the dim light of the room. "A Gillipsee Stone?" he asked, looking surprised at his teacher. "You're father gave it to me to give to you when I visited the Manor a few weeks ago. He said to use it as a last resort. I assume you know what it's used for," Severus said mildly. "Well, yes ," Draco replied, "of course I do! Does this mean...?" "I think you should consider it," said the professor. "Any cloth should do, but choose carefully - the stone can only be used once." "Do you think I can do the charms necessary for it?" Draco asked, skeptical. Severus smiled. "I think you can now." Draco opened his mouth to protest, but paused, remembering the effects of his reflected curse. "I suppose I can," Draco agreed, pocketing the stone. He looked back at his teacher, his tired eyes shinning with gratitude. "Thank you." "You're welcome," Severus said. "Now, don't you have somewhere to be?' "Lunch," Draco replied. "Go. Enjoy it," Severus told him with a wave of his hands. "And no more random acts of bravery during meals." "Yes, sir," Draco said, giving a tiny mock salute before walking out of the room, dipping his hand in his pocket to clutch the cool stone. Draco smiled. A Gillipsee Stone, one of the rarest items in the known world, and the key component in the charm needed to create invisibility cloaks. "Just what I always wanted," Draco mused, laughing quietly. It was almost enough to make him forget about the silent conversation he'd had with Potter moments earlier. Almost. * * * * * * The day passed uneventfully. Harry was on edge, expecting the sky to fall any minute, waiting for Professor McGonagall to swoop down on them, and the moment when he would have to meet Headmaster Dumbledore's disappointed eyes. It never happened. Harry sat on his bed, dressed in his favorite pajamas, curtains closed around him. He held his hands out palm-up, looking at the surface of the appendages, not liking the odd green tint they'd taken on. No amount of scrubbing in the bathroom had managed to get the stain of the metal polish he'd been forced to use off his skin, as he'd spent the past four hours polishing suits of armor in the hallways. The task wasn't made any easier by the fact that every time you turned your back, the armor would run off, not enjoying the sensation of being polished. Filch said it was because it tickled. Afterwards, Quidditch practice was a spectacular failure. Ron, their new Keeper, couldn't block a Quaffle to save his life, and Harry, who was supposed to be fulfilling his role as Team Captain, couldn't even stay focused long enough to keep his broom flying in a straight line. The team called it quits after only forty minutes, then went their separate ways, grumbling and mumbling angrily. The Ravenclaw game was only two days away and their chances of winning didn't look stellar. All in all, it hadn't been a very good day. Harry collapsed back on the bed, extinguishing the tiny ball of light floating above him with a wave of his wand, then stuffed it underneath his pillow so it could be easily reached in case of emergency. Next, he plucked his glasses off his face, he depositing them on a shelf mounted on the wall next to his bed. Rolling on to his side, he closed his eyes and hoped he would dream. He did need to talk to Draco, after all. * * * * * * Draco stood quietly in the garden, waiting with apprehension for the predictable approach of his nightly killers. He felt he should be used to this by now, but he wasn't. True to form, several heavily cloaked figures apparated not three feet away, rushing together as one, cold hands propelling him back. His legs hit a stone ledge and the sound of running water filled his ears and he was pushed backwards into a large fountain, the Death Eaters trying to force his head under the water. He fought back as best he could, clawing at the men, managing to get his head above water for a few seconds, life-giving air filling his lungs. His eyes darted around, looking for someone who should be near-by. And there he was. Potter, a few steps away, watched the scene as he always did, seemingly unable to help. This time, Draco knew exactly what to do. "Potter! Get your ass over here!" he sputtered before being dunked once again into the cold, clear water. He tried not to gasp as the hands continued to push his head back, bending his spine in a manner that simply wasn't natural. Without warning, just as his vision started to dim, the hands disappeared and were replaced by one sure fist, clutching the collar of his shirt and dragging him from the fountain, dropping him limply on the grass. Draco coughed the water out of his lungs, wiping at his stinging eyes with the back of his hands, body shaking with chill and adrenaline. "You okay?" Harry asked him, sounding slightly winded. "In a minute," Draco managed to reply, still choking a bit. "Right," said Harry, looking nervous, picking at the hem of his oversized t-shirt. "Well, I think we should talk, because you said we needed to talk, although you really didn't say that, you thought it at me, which, I have to say, is a little unnerving, so can we not do that anymore? And I guess, here we are, though we aren't actually here because 'here' is just a dream so we're really nowhere and..." "Potter! Stop babbling!" Draco snapped, sitting up, taking a few deep breaths just to make sure he could. "Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. "This is kind of new to me." "Yeah, and I'm old hat at it," Draco replied wryly. "And yes, Potter, we do need to talk. This happens to be the best place to do it. No one can hear us, after all." Harry nodded, then stopped, looking around. "Where are we?" he asked. "The last few dreams were at Hogwarts. I don't recognize this place." The two boys were sitting at the base of an ornate fountain, located not far from a beautiful castle. It reminded Harry of the castle he'd once seen in the Disney version of Cinderella, all white marble and beautiful turrets. The fountain was apparently located in the middle of an intricate garden, highlighted with rare flowers and plants that Harry didn't know by name. The flowers filled the air with a fragrant scent, very calming and pleasant. Small flashing lights hovered above the plants, creating a rainbow of colors as they blinked in and out. Harry squinted closely, then realized with a bit of shock that the lights were actually small fairies, fluttering among the bushes and shrubs, a soft humming sound, all in perfect harmony, coming from their rapid wing beats. The layout of the garden and the land surrounding it could only be described as stunning. "Father's gardens," Draco replied, shaking Harry from his awe. Draco nodded at the castle. "That's the Manor." "This is where you grew up?" Harry asked, incredulous. "What did you expect?" Draco looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know," he admitted. "Dragons maybe, guarding the gate. A big moat filled with sea monsters, a creepy old castle covered in cobwebs and curses, maybe a swamp?" Draco laughed. "Sorry to disappoint you, Potter. No, what you see is what you get." The Slytherin turned his head, looking towards the massive castle. "On the far side of the Manor are the stables," he said out of the blue. "We keep some Nightmares there." "Nightmares?" Harry looked confused and Draco struggled not to laugh again. "A kind of demon horse," he explained. "They're completely black and completely silent when they move, their eyes burning fiery red. One of my Ancestors summoned the original herd before my family had to flee France during the revolution. Only a few could be brought with us, so my Mother has made it her personal project to try to reinstate the herd on our lands." "Demon Horses?" Harry asked, eyes going wide. Draco shrugged. "They actually have very good temperaments. If we were to head over there, you could probably see a dream version of Melpomene, my favorite girl. She's one of the very few things I miss when I'm stuck at Hogwarts." Draco sighed at the memory and actually looked wistful to Harry's eyes, which struck him as odd. 'Wistful' wasn't an emotion Harry would have ever thought to associate with his rival. Draco, suddenly aware that he might be appearing soft, hardened his expression and turned back to face Harry. "So," he began, "we need to talk." "Right," Harry agreed. Silence filled the air. A/N: Finally, we're getting closer to some Harry/Draco action and I leave you hanging! *laughs wickedly* God, it's fun to be Evil! prologue, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven, part eight, part nine, part ten, part eleven, part twelve back? |