http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3163139/1/Raspberry_Jam

http://www.fanfiction.net/u/983931/vvc

RASPBERRY JAM

by vvc

Summary: Draco tries not to think of his upcoming transition and the unwanted partner chosen for him by his father. Then he finds he may have a choice after all. Will the faith he puts into his choice be rewarded? HPDM A slow, soft romance.

Author's Notes

-This is a SLASH story. The sex is not graphic, but the intimations are unmistakably there. I must thank Shivani for her most excellent story Crumbling Pedestal that managed to intimate some very hot sex without actually coming out and saying anything directly. I tried to copy that concept.

-I changed Draco's birthday so it would fit my story. I am perfectly aware that hplexicon shows his birthday as officially June 5.

-This is an AU for year six. Also, OotP did not happen - there's too much in there for Harry and Draco, much less Harry and Severus, to ever have an amicable relationship. In my opinion.

-This is a slow, soft, sort of love story. Quite smarmy in parts. There is no action. There is no adventure. There is no smiting of bad guys.

-I'm really quite the fan of magical maturity fics, so I decided to do my own.

Chapter 1 - 1 September 1996

Draco knocked on the heavy wooden door, opening it and entering his godfather's office upon hearing the terse "Enter."

"Hello, Godfather," Draco said, closing the door behind him.

Severus looked up at his visitor, unsurprised, but still with a look upon his face that Draco couldn't quite place. Rising, Severus pulled out his wand and cast the expected privacy charms on the office and then muttered several additional spells that Draco recognized as detection charms. The boy watched his godfather curiously - the man had never done this before when Draco came to visit; he wondered what had happened recently to make his godfather even more paranoid than usual.

After Severus finishing checking his office he turned to Draco. Draco smiled and took a step forward to greet his godfather more warmly only to stop abruptly, jerking back slightly and widening his eyes as his godfather turned to him with a raised wand and a threatening scowl.

"Be still, Draco."

Draco remained still and silent, blinking in astonishment, as his godfather spent the next couple minutes casting spell after spell at him. Again, Draco recognized some of the spells as detection spells - more complex ones used on people instead of things. He began to get worried when heard the detection charm for the Imperius curse followed by other charms he didn't know but could decipher enough of to know were checking for other forms of mind control. A nervous swallow followed this realization.

Finally Severus appeared satisfied, nodded his head sharply, stowed his wand and closed the distance to Draco, enclosing him in a warm hug. Draco hesitantly wrapped his arms around his godfather. Tentatively he queried, "Is everything…are you…okay?"

"I am well, my son."

Draco relaxed at the endearment. Severus never called him son unless they were secure.

"What was with the display, then? Impressive, by the way. Will you teach me those spells?" Draco made no effort to leave the embrace, relishing the rare affection.

A warm chuckle was followed by an amused and indulgent response, "Yes, my curious cat, I will teach you them if you wish."

Draco grinned into his godfather's shoulder. Severus never denied him when he wanted to learn something, no matter what it was - old or new, physical or mental, legal or illegal, wizardly or muggle. Of course, the last they assiduously hid from his parents, no sense in getting himself murdered before his majority, after all.

"What was with all the detection spells? Do you think someone is watching you? Or me?"

"Not any more than usual, no."

Draco waited a bit but Severus didn't seem inclined to comment further or answer his original question. Draco frowned in concern and some frustration. He couldn't ask again, that was one of his godfather's rules that protected the both of them. He could ask any question he wished, anything at all, and Severus would respond in one of three ways: answering honestly, refusing to answer, or not answering at all. If Severus refused to answer Draco, he would state why and when Draco could possibly ask again, but if he didn't answer at all…well, that meant Draco was to drop the subject, completely, for at least one year. No more direct questions. No roundabout questions. No trick questions. It was frustrating for the boy sometimes, even though he knew he was truly better off not knowing some things and trusted his godfather to not keep things from him unnecessarily.

Draco sighed softly, made a mental note of the situation, and tried to put it out of his mind. If he was in danger, Severus would have said.

"Very good, Draco."

Draco huffed in annoyance. Of course, sometimes his godfather was just testing him.

Severus tightened his hold and pressed his cheek to Draco's head. "I have a story, a gift. Perhaps…not in that order. Both are dangerous. Neither must be revealed before the appropriate time." Severus sounded almost distant, distracted. The last statement made Draco curious, more so than the dangerous comment. His life was already dangerous.

"All right. I love stories and you always get me the best presents."

"A gift, I said. Not a present. This cannot be wrapped."

Draco furrowed his brown in confusion. His godfather was usually more direct with him than this. What could possibly be bothering his godfather so much to indulge in his usual circumspect speech habits? And employ such high security measures on their meeting?

A quick squeeze and a kiss on the head indicated the end of the embrace and Draco reluctantly let go. He sent a questioning look to his godfather but obeyed the hand on his back directing him to the sofa and the soft commands, "Come. Sit."

Severus stayed silent while arranging himself next to Draco and summoning tea for them both. Draco sniffed. Chamomile. His godfather really was anxious to be summoning a calming tea. Draco sipped his tea and watched Severus, respecting the silence his godfather seemed to need.

"You will be turning sixteen soon."

Draco blinked a few times before responding, taken aback by the obvious statement. "Yes, soon," he agreed.

"Have you considered who you would like with you during your transition?"

Draco stiffened, gritted his teeth, and resolutely kept himself from sniping at his godfather. What kind of idiotic question was this? Severus knew this was a big sore spot for him, one of the biggest, right after the issue of Death Eater initiation and his parents' loyalties to the Dark Lord.

"Of course not."

"You have not considered it at all?"

"All has been arranged."

"That is not what I asked."

"All has been arranged," Draco ground out for a second time.

"Have you considered who you would like with you during your transition? This is not a rhetorical question, nor one to remind you of your father's arrangements. I want an answer," Severus demanded firmly.

Surprised at his godfather's pressing on this topic, he took a deep, hopefully calming breath and let it out slowly. His answer still came out strained and bitter, "Whenever I catch myself thinking about it, I stop myself. No good would come from me contemplating a choice I do not have."

"And if you had a choice?"

"I do not."

"If you did?"

"I do not have a choice! Why are you asking me this!" Draco cried out despairingly.

Severus watched as his godson closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. The expression of pained resentment slowly left Draco's face as he regained control. A minute later Draco opened his eyes and glared balefully at Severus.

Severus set his cup and saucer on the coffee table then took Draco's and did the same. Severus turned towards his now slightly quizzical, if no less angry, godson and gently took pale elegant hands in his own potion-stained ones. While running his thumbs along the back of Draco's hands, he quietly, solemnly, asked a not so simple question, "If I could give you the ability to make a choice, would you take it?"

A quick indrawn breath and a momentary clench of hands were Draco's only response for several long moments. Looking at the serious face of his godfather, and recognizing the tone of voice as one Severus used only in the most serious of situations, Draco realized that this was, indeed, a real question. An unbelievably true question. Not rhetorical. One that needed an answer. A considered answer. But…

"I do not want you to take any risks for me."

Severus rubbed Draco's hands again in acknowledgement and said, "There is little risk."

"Impossible."

"My alibi is well-established."

"You can't just take me somewhere, send me somewhere. I'm being guarded, you know that," Draco reminded Severus with some exasperation.

"Your guards will be easily eluded," Severus assured him.

"I cannot use a portkey. The charms father placed on my medallion prevent it. You know this, too, you helped him."

"You won't need a portkey."

"I cannot use the Headmaster's floo. I don't trust the old fool not to tell my father where I went," annoyance now evident in the boy's voice.

"You won't floo," Severus calmly replied.

"I cannot simply walk out of the school! It would be noticed immediately!" Anger and frustration warred for dominance in the young man's tone.

"You will not have to. There are transition chambers here." Severus remained impassive and calm in the face of his godson's temper.

Draco gave Severus an incredulous look. "They are not secure. They cannot be further warded to keep out determined intruders."

"Some are more secure than others."

Draco gave a deep sigh. "How can this be possible? Explain it to me."

Severus again ran his thumbs across the back of his godson's hands. Soft hands. But not a soft body, nor a soft mind. He had seen to that. He had done his best to counteract Lucius' lazy arrogance and Narcissa's spoiled indifference. And he had done well. Draco's spoiled brat mask was perfect but the truth underneath, that only the two of them saw, was that Draco was a fine young man, intelligent and caring, thoughtful, curious and persistent, loyal, loving, and fascinated with life. His son, not theirs.

He had spent more time with Draco than both Lucius and Narcissa combined. And he had known this would happen. That it would be he that would raise Draco, be the greater parental influence. That Draco would be his son more so than theirs. And he had done what he had needed to do to ensure his son would have a choice, that Lucius could not control Draco's transition. Severus' greatest slight of hand.

"Your birthday is not October 19, it is October 12. You could enter the transition chamber on the evening of the 11th and as it is a Friday you could be gone all weekend before someone realized you were missing, especially if you take these next several weeks and establish a pattern of being a recluse on the weekends. By the time anyone hunts for you on Monday, it will be too late. Even if the Headmaster breaks the wards on the transition chamber as soon as he finds outs, it will be too late. You will have a most disquieting and uncomfortable remainder of the week, but you will not be able to form another transition bond."

Draco was silent for several long minutes. To say that he was stunned would be a vast understatement. How had Severus fooled his father about his birthday? He couldn't see any way that that was possible. But his godfather never lied to him. If he said that Draco's birthday was October 12, then it was October 12. This…could work…for him, anyway. He didn't see how Severus would be anything but dead from this deception, however.

"Father will kill you."

"No, he will not."

"How could you possibly explain this away?"

A sly smile came over Severus face. "Ah, well, you see, I get so engrossed in my potions that I forget about such trivialities as date and time."

"But…"

"And Narcissa came to my manor on Sunday, I am sure of it because I was in the entrance hall inspecting my weekly delivery of potions ingredients when she unexpectedly appeared. She can confirm this herself. It was she, after all, who threatened the delivery man with castration if he did not leave immediately. The baby came only minutes after I had her settled in a guest room. Then she was so weak and became so ill and I had to make and administer several different potions on different time cycles and I just focused on that and let the house elves take care of the baby."

"But…"

"When Lucius showed up Tuesday he relieved me of my duties and put me to bed and I slept for over thirty hours, a sure sign of extreme exhaustion. When he asked me when the baby was born I told him Sunday at 2:17 pm. Is it my fault he assumed two days prior instead of nine? Really, he should have known it was not just two days. I have gone longer with no sleep and not been nearly so obviously exhausted. He had seen this numerous times since school. And just how was I to know which Sunday it was? All I know is that it was Sunday. It could have been September still for all I knew or cared."

Draco was again silent. That was actually a pretty good story. Severus' inattention to time whilst brewing potions was practically legendary. He himself teased his godfather about it. So did his father. And his mother. And several other people, some of them Death Eaters. Yes, this was a very good story.

"And how did I find out the real date?" Draco asked curiously, knowing that his godfather would have thought this out and come up with the best possible answer/alibi for him to use.

"The first potion your class will be making is the paternity potion, an appropriately difficult potion for 6th years, useful in and of itself when there is question as to the child's father or the mother's fidelity, but also used as a base for several other potions. Theory will be covered on Tuesday, the brewing will be done on Thursday, and a three foot essay will be due on its uses and the uses of its derivatives on the following Tuesday. In the course of your research you will have accessed the book Lifecycle Magics by Edmond Edgecomb which, in addition to discussing the potion as a means of verifying paternity, advocates the use of several other potions and spells to determine a child's heritage, health, power, and possible destiny. One such set of spells, unoriginally called The Arithmancy Series, when combined with a potion keyed to an individual with their own blood, are used to determine the absolutely exact time and location of a child's birth. These numbers may then be given to an arithmancer for the development of a completely accurate astrological chart. You, being schooled in arithmancy and the creation of astrological charts, thought it would be interesting to see if there were any significant differences in your chart if you used such precise measurements. Plus, brewing the appropriate potion presented a challenge. Therefore, you brewed the potion and cast the spells and revealed the truth."

"And I, of course, immediately saw the advantages to this because I hate Pansy and everyone knows it. So I cunningly started my recluse habits to hide my actual disappearance in October," Draco smirked at Severus.

Severus smirked back. "Exactly. Also, you figured out what must have happened. You have heard the story of your birth several times. You know Narcissa had been ill, Lucius had been away, and I couldn't be bothered for any time or day that was not Sunday at 1:30 to inspect my delivery of potion ingredients. That, in fact, during the summers, I still cannot keep track of any other time. It is always you who watches it when you are there, otherwise you would never eat if left up to me."

"And I will tell father this so it makes your story all the more believable." Draco nodded his understanding.

"Yes."

"You don't really lose track of time during the summer, do you?" Draco asked suspiciously

Severus gave an indignant snort. "Of course not!"

"This…this could work."

"Yes." Severus was silent a moment. "It is my transition gift to you. Choice. The option to choose your own partner. Of course, I'll give you a nice pretty knife officially."

Draco gave a shaky laugh. "Of course." Draco swallowed hard, trying to keep his suddenly rising emotions in check. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, my son."

Draco gripped Severus hands tightly trying desperately to slow his breathing and calm his racing heart. It wasn't working. When his godfather moved closer and placed an arm around his shoulders, Draco, for the first time since he was eleven and been rejected by Potter, lost control of his emotions. But he was too immensely relieved, too incredibly grateful, too wonderfully safe in his godfather's embrace to care that he was sobbing like a child.

Chapter 2 - Monday, 7 October 1996

"Hey, look. Golden Boy's coming to breakfast all alone," Blaise said, scorn evident in his voice. "They must be having another lover's spat." Blaise laughed at his own joke, joined readily by the surrounding Slytherin students.

Draco glanced up from his anxious fiddling with his breakfast, only absently aware of the additional sly comments made by his housemates as he watched Potter walk to the Gryffindor table and begin serving himself foodstuffs.

"Scrambled eggs," Draco thought to himself. Potter always served those first.

"Bacon next, 5 strips and 2 slices of toast." So far so good, a normal day. No bacon meant Potter was queasy which meant, in turn, that he was either fighting a headache or was suffering from lack of sleep, or both. Not a good day to approach him.

"Now, is it still strawberry or has he calmed down enough for marmalade? Or is he going for the grape?"

Potter had been annoyed the past three weeks solid, who knew at what, but Draco could tell by the flavor, and amount, of jam on his toast. Marmalade was an even-tempered day and Potter would do his best to not be riled by anything people said to him. Strawberry meant he was annoyed at people, usually his so-called friends, once again invading his privacy or pushing him into the Golden Boy mold. The amount of strawberry jam showed just how annoyed he was.

Three weeks ago Potter had come to breakfast and slathered a hideous amount of strawberry jam onto his toast. Draco still wondered just what it was that had upset Potter so much - he hadn't heard a thing through the gossip mill. The amount of jam had been steadily decreasing, but it was still strawberry. Of course, it was usually strawberry. People were stupid when it came to Harry Potter and Potter obviously realized it. Still, three weeks solid of strawberry was a new record.

Potter coming to breakfast alone was definitely a sign of his mood. However, it was pretty much a toss-up as to which end of the spectrum his mood had swung. Being still annoyed, his friends could have said something stupid (again) and sent him straight to the grape jelly. Draco always stayed away from Potter on grape jelly days. People thought it was coincidence or luck that Draco was never the brunt of the worst aspects of Potter's temper. Draco never enlightened them. He reckoned if they didn't figure it out themselves then they deserved the boy's wrath.

On the other hand, coming alone to breakfast could mean that Potter had come to terms with whatever was bothering him and had decided he didn't need to worry about pleasing his friends and would reach for the orange marmalade. Draco wished Harry had more marmalade days - he truly didn't need his fickle friends.

"Yes! Marmalade! Thank Merlin!" Draco rejoiced in the privacy of his mind.

Draco had been waiting for a marmalade day to give his note to Harry and had been getting more and more desperate as the days went by and it was still strawberry jam the other boy put on his toast. Draco was running out of time.

He had spent the first week after his godfather's revelation doing what he supposedly did of his own inspiration, i.e. reading Lifecycle Magics, brewing the necessary derivative potion, casting the appropriate spells and redoing his star chart. It had actually been rather interesting. He recognized that his actions were mostly procrastination over thinking about choosing a transition partner, but he didn't feel too guilty. He had needed the time to get over his shock.

He had spent the next two weeks going over everyone he knew and evaluating whether he would want, or could tolerate, their presence during his transition and forming a lifelong bond with them. He had come to the rather frightening conclusion that there really wasn't anybody in this school, or out, with whom he wanted a transition bond. No one except his godfather - which was completely out of the question as Severus would likely be killed for his part in the duplicity…and the only person he had ever wanted to be a part of his life - Potter - the boy who had rejected him so many years ago. The boy he fought with on a regular basis. The boy he insulted because he had to and because he still hurt from the rejection on the train. Of course, he did realize that he himself was partly responsible for Harry's rejection; he had come on rather strong and snobbish. He had been stung and angered by Weasley's comments and lashed out. Not his best moment. Still, perhaps it had been for the best. The both of them probably would have been worse off if they had become friends then.

The next week had been spent gathering his courage and his faith to write his request to Harry and the time since then in waiting for a marmalade day. Draco desperately, desperately hoped that the note, letter really, that he had written to Harry would convince him of Draco's sincerity and that Harry would be able to put aside everything bad that had happened between them and consent to being his transition partner. The letter had been hard to write, in a way; Draco wasn't used to spilling his feelings to anyone but Severus. In another way, though, it had been simple and even cathartic; he had told Harry things he had wanted to tell him for years. He had apologized for being an ass and asked once again, in a nicer tone, for Harry to be his friend. To be there for Draco when no one else would. To allow Draco to be there for Harry when no one else could be bothered to truly understand their hero. Maybe his prayers over the last two weeks since he had made his decision to ask Potter would be answered. Hopefully the gods didn't hate him so much as to deny him this one thing.

Later that evening a bemused Harry sat in his curtained off and privacy spelled bed turning an envelope over and over in his hands. Nice stationery, expensive, with his name on it, in Draco Malfoy's handwriting. He remembered earlier that day when he had received it. He, Ron and Hermione had been leisurely walking to History of Magic after breakfast and Draco and his pet goons had come around the corner at the last moment, running into them. It had obviously been deliberate. Draco had remarked in a snide, superior voice, "Can't be bothered to watch where you're going, Potter?"

Malfoy's goons had laughed and Draco had sneered. But the look in Malfoy's eyes hadn't been one of malice; it had been one of desperation. And he had felt Malfoy place something in his hand. Instinctively, Harry had hidden it and responded with a slightly annoyed, "As much as you can, Malfoy." Harry had walked off, surreptitiously placing the object in his pocket.

And now he sat on his bed, wondering just what was going on.

Suspicious, he had cast several scanning spells on the miniaturized letter - no magic except the residue of the shrinking spell he had countered. What could Malfoy possibly want that desperately? And from him? Harry finally opened the envelope, pulled out several sheets of parchment, and began to read.

Harry,

Thank you for reading my letter despite what, I am sure, are several rather founded suspicions…

Half an hour later found Harry once more turning an envelope over and over in his hands, having replaced the enclosed letter after reading it several times. I ask, with the utmost sincerity, that you consent to being my transition partner…he couldn't believe what Malfoy was asking of him. He was, truly, beyond shocked that Malfoy had even considered him in that capacity, much less asked him.

Actually, he was beyond shocked by a great number of things in Malfoy's letter. I confess to being sorely hurt by your rejection of me…I admire your sense of self-control…I am certain we could be better friends to each other than any others that currently hang upon our apron strings…

Really, he was surprised the most that Malfoy recognized just how often he had to reign in his temper. He found Malfoy's…Draco's…Jam-Scale of Potter's Moods to be absolutely the most hilarious thing he had ever heard. He was glad for the silencing spell on his bed because he had laughed himself almost silly at Draco's explanation. He then had felt an immediate sense of admiration at Draco's observation skills. No one else, as far as he knew, had a clue that he existed in an almost constant state of annoyance. Still, even he himself hadn't realized his moods were so reliably indicated by the jam he chose to put on his morning toast.

"If only for that," he thought bemusedly, "I would acquiesce to Draco's request. In gratitude for paying attention to and knowing me so well even, or especially, from afar. How could I refuse? Especially considering my own transition."

Harry quickly wrote a short note and put it in his Care of Magical Creatures book to pass to Draco tomorrow.

Chapter 3 - Friday, 11 October 1996

Draco fidgeted nervously once again, shifting restlessly foot to foot as he waited, hoping he had understood Potter's note correctly. "Honestly. Couldn't he have been a bit more verbose than "F 6 Laces"? This had better be the right place."

Friday at 6:00 had been easy enough to decipher, but "Laces" had him stumped until he remembered an evening encounter between them in their third year. They had had a small confrontation beside the portrait of Octavia Martinelle. They had, of all things, both stopped at the nearby alcove to retie their respective shoelaces. Nothing had come of the meeting besides snide comments. He was pretty sure he had decoded the note correctly but, still, it was nearly 6:10.

As Draco continued to fret, he suddenly felt a hand upon his mouth and an arm come around his chest from behind. Before he could panic, Harry's voice came softly into his ear, "Sorry for being late. Had to evade the lackeys." A string of hissed syllables later and Potter tightened his hold upon Draco, spun him around and stepped into space.

Draco clutched reflexively at Harry's forearms as he felt them enter freefall. His grip didn't lighten once he felt the speed of their fall slowly reduce and then felt firm ground under his feet once again. Harry released him and Draco's first comment came out a strangled, "Fuck, Potter!"

A light and amused chuckle behind him was followed by a hissed word that lit several torches, illuminating the small, plain room they were in. Draco spun around in time to watch Harry emerge from his invisibility cloak, a look of interest on his face and amusement sparkling in his eyes. Draco scowled and Harry smirked back at him.

"Just what would you have done, Potter, if I had died from the heart attack you just gave me?" Draco testily demanded.

"Banished your body to the lake and gone back to the tower," Harry replied so matter-of-factly that Draco gaped at him in disbelief.

"You sure you want this, Malfoy?" Harry asked seriously. "Malfoy?"

"Please tell me you would not have really fed my body to the squid, Potter. Please." Draco looked somewhat sickened and dismayed by the thought.

"Of course not. I wouldn't have banished your body into the lake, just close to the shore. You know, so someone could find you. Feel better, now?" Harry asked, a smile flitting about his lips as he struggled to control his laughter as Draco's countenance shifted from relieved to appalled to aggravated.

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry suspiciously, still unsure whether the other boy was telling the truth or having him on. He opted for another topic, "Where have you taken me?"

"An extra-special and ultra-secret hiding place. Shhhh! No telling!" Harry said with wide eyes and an exaggerated childish mischievousness in his voice. Draco quirked an eyebrow at him, crossed his arms, and stared at him imperiously.

Harry smirked and copied the stance for a moment before dropping all pretense and once again asking seriously, "You sure you want this, Malfoy?" Looking his once-supposed-nemesis up and down and pointing towards the single door in the room, he stated, "Once I take you through that door, there is no turning back. Are you sure you want this?"

Draco, too, dropped his stance, then, nodding slowly, answered back with equal seriousness, "Yes, I'm sure."

"This is a lifelong bond, Malfoy."

"I know. Call me Draco."

"Draco. We'll probably end up lovers by the end of the week, you do realize that, right?"

"Yes. I realize that. Harry."

"You're putting your very life in my hands."

"I trust you with it."

"I'm going to see you at your worst, you know. Writhing and crying in pain, sobbing in frustration, pleading desperately for relief."

Draco winced, but replied firmly, "I know."

"Begging me to fuck you to get rid of the crawling under your skin, if only for a few minutes."

A quick, short nod from Draco and a soft, "I know."

"You're going to be helpless before me. I'm going to have to dress you, feed you, bathe you, carry you to the bathroom, practically hold your dick for you as you pee."

"I KNOW! For Merlin's sake, Potter! I know all that, all right!"

"I thought you were calling me Harry, now?"

Draco hissed at Harry, seething at the other boy's placid expression and relentless exposure of the unsavory aspects of transition. Shaking, hands fisted at his sides, Draco closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing. Several minutes later, Draco opened his eyes wide in realization of what Harry was doing. He was testing Draco's resolve! He was pushing Draco to see if he really wanted Harry as his transition partner. Draco stared at Harry speculatively and Harry stared right back at him, waiting.

"You being an asshole about this only reassures me that I made the right choice. This is what I want. Now," Draco adopted a more formal stance and tone, "Wilt thou, Harold James Potter, stand watch over me throughout mine transition? Tend to mine body whilst it is weakened? Guide mine intellect in the initial expressions of any new abilities Gifted me? Accept the bond that shall tie us together all our lives long that will be created during this time of my need?"

"I accept this responsibility of guarding thee, Draconis Lucius Malfoy, during thy transition. I shall tend thy body whilst it is weakened and guide thee in the initial expressions of thy new abilities, should it be needful. Gladly do I accept the honor of the bond that shall be formed during thy time of need and tie us together all our lives long." Harry's tone was just as formal as Draco's had been.

"Great." Draco heaved a relieved breath and ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Harry watched Draco rub the back of his neck anxiously for a moment then took a step towards him, immediately stopping when Draco startled at the movement. Harry, now that Draco was watching him, albeit a bit warily, once again approached the blond. Placing a hand in the small of Draco's back and gently pushing him towards the lone door, Harry urged quietly, "Come on. Let me show you around and we can get comfortable."

"All right." Draco followed the hand's urging and took the few steps to the door, then watched and listened in fascination as Harry proceeded to have a conversation with the decorative snake inlay. After a short exchange the door opened and the hand still on Draco's back encouraged him into the next room.

A large combination sitting room and library met his curious gaze. Nicely decorated in carved furnishings, dark rugs, and bright tapestries, the room managed to give off a distinctly masculine feel of wealth, power, and age. A single larger-than-life portrait hung between several tapestries over a fireplace that, while only about four feet tall, stretched nearly twenty feet. On either side of the fireplace were double doors decorated across the center with mirror images of large carved snakes. The remaining walls held bookcases, also about four feet tall, under more tapestries. The interior of the room contained several comfortable looking chairs and sofas, matching end tables holding tea sets and strange looking lights, and a couple work tables with a single layer of drawers.

"Nice place. Where are we?" Given the parseltongue Harry had been speaking, Draco wondered if this place once belonged to Salazar Slytherin but couldn't see anything solely indicating such. True, there were serpents on the doors, but the predominant color was blue and he saw no family or school crests anywhere.

"We're in the Founder's Quarters. Specifically, we're in Salazar Slytherin's study." Harry smiled at the look of amazement and disbelief that came over Draco's features.

"But….it's blue," Draco protested then shook his head in disgust at himself for such an inane comment.

"Salazar liked blue," Harry replied with a small smile.

Draco glanced sideways at Harry for a moment then asked curiously, "You know this how? Slytherin's colors are silver and green."

"Well, Rowena got to pick colors first and she picked blue, so Salazar was stuck with his second favorite color of green for his house," Harry answered lightly, his smile growing wider.

"And you know this because…?"

"Salazar told me," Harry couldn't hold back his grin as Draco looked at him in surprise then over to the painting in embarrassment and awe.

Harry's laughter rang through the room as Draco was greeted politely by the now smirking painting, "Hello, young snake. Your companion tells me this is the night of your transition. You have chosen your partner well; he will look after you most diligently. Perhaps we can speak again when you have fully recovered, but for now you should both be off and rest up. If you are as powerful as my lion-snake believes, you shall need all the rest you can get before your transition begins. I wish you good luck. Go on, now. Be off!"

After a quick acknowledgement and a stammered thanks from Harry and Draco respectively, Harry dragged the blond from the room, through the right hand double doors, the rich laughter of Salazar following them. Draco was pulled through the first door on the right before he got a decent look at the long hallway. Recovering from his astonishment, Draco noticed the bedroom they were now in, also decorated in blues. "At least the accents are in silver," Draco thought.

"How did you find this place, Harry?" Draco admitted he was filled with a burning curiosity about not only the place itself, but also about Harry's apparently friendly relationship with Salazar's painting and just how Harry had found the legendary Founder's Quarters.

Harry turned to Draco before answering, a sheepish look upon his face. "Well, it was actually an accident."

"An accident," Draco repeated blandly.

"Yeah. See, in third year, after that whole mess with the duel, I thought, well why not? Right? And then Sirius was after me, well, supposedly really, and I thought it would be nice to have a different place just in case he got in. So I went looking because I kept seeing snakes and was talking to myself, so, that's the short version. You see?" Throughout the whole explanation Harry had been running a hand through his hair, alternating between smoothing it down, ruffling it, and pulling it over his scar. He ended his speech with a hopeful look at Draco who returned it with a look of total incomprehension.

"No," was the only thing Draco could conceivably answer to such a disjointed account. He hadn't followed a single leap of logic in Harry's answer, although he did remember the duel and the escape of his mother's cousin. He just didn't see how they were connected in any way, especially since they were in different years.

Harry gave a deep sigh and said, "Well, I'm sure we'll get to the long version sometime over the next week. Right now, though, I think we would be better off following Salazar's advice and getting some rest. We should be able to nap about five or six hours before things get started."

Giving Harry a look that clearly communicated that Draco was only humoring him, Draco nevertheless gamely responded, "Sure. The bed looks big enough for the both of us. I get the left side." Harry laughed as Draco sat on a convenient chair to remove his shoes then stood and removed his school robe, tossing it across the same chair before placing his wand on the nearby nightstand, climbing onto the bed and lying down. He really was tired, had been all week, and didn't think he'd have any trouble falling asleep, even if it was only about half past six. He'd be worried about his health if he didn't know that this was perfectly normal as one approached transition.

Already starting to fall into sleep, Draco was startled when he felt Harry place a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see Harry peering down at him with gentle concern. He was so surprised to see that look directed at him that he almost missed Harry's words to him as he was pulled into a sitting position.

"I know you're tired. Sit up for a minute and let's get you undressed," Harry said as he urged Draco to sit up.

"What? Why?" Draco asked, slightly confused but not resisting as Harry unbuttoned a shirt cuff.

"It'll be easier now than later," Harry answered as he finished unbuttoning the second shirt cuff and started pulling the shirt out of Draco's pants.

"Oh. I guess so," Draco replied absently as he watched Harry unbutton his shirt, wondering why he wasn't protesting such familiarity. When Harry finished the last button at the collar, he felt Harry's hands cup his face and lift it so he could meet Harry's gaze, which showed a great deal more concern than it had earlier.

"You really are out of it, aren't you? More so than I would have thought you'd be at this time. Have you not been sleeping well?" Harry asked worriedly. Draco really shouldn't be quite this tired. In fact, he should have been getting plenty of sleep as the formation of the transition net the week before the actual transition sent nearly everyone to early bedtimes and afternoon naps. Although, come to think of it, he hadn't heard anything about Draco being absent for the standard school sanctioned naps…

"No. I've been sleeping fine. I haven't been able to take any naps, though, and I haven't been able to go to bed early. I've had to make sure I acted completely normal, including my energy levels. I couldn't afford anyone to get suspicious. I guess it's just hitting me all at once," Draco answered tiredly. He was just now realizing what a toll his deceptions had been taking on him both physically and mentally.

"That makes sense. Well, don't worry about it. I'll take care of you, I promise," Harry said encouragingly. He released Draco's face and pulled the shirt off of him, turning to drape it over the school robe Draco had removed earlier. He turned back to Draco to see the blond nodding in reply and yawning.

Pulling Draco's tank-style t-shirt out of his pants and over his head, Harry mused that neither he nor Draco had started any arguments since they had met that night. True, it could be simple exhaustion on Draco's part, but Harry rather thought it was because, underneath both of their masks, which they had both dropped, the two of them truly would make good friends, just as Draco had written in his letter. Tossing the t-shirt onto the chair, then pressing Draco back into a lying position, Harry found that he was eagerly looking forward to having a new friend.

Harry continued undressing Draco, removing his belt, pants and socks. Gazing at the blond lying quietly in his boxers, Harry had to admit to himself that he was rather looking forward to having a new lover as well. Draco was as much an athlete as himself and it showed.

Noting the blond's deep even breathing, Harry decided to see if he could sneak the boxers off now instead of having to worry about them later. Sure enough, Draco didn't move a muscle as his last remaining piece of clothing was removed and added to the pile on the chair.

Harry removed his own clothing, intending to climb into bed himself when he realized that Draco was on top of the covers. A quietly annoyed, "Damn," escaped Harry's lips as he realized he was going to have to disturb Draco to get him under the covers. Hopefully Draco would remain too out of it to notice, much less complain about, the state of both their undress.

Gently, Harry lifted Draco's upper body to his own chest, awkwardly pulling at the covers beneath him. Draco stirred and murmured but went right back to sleep at a quiet, "Shhh. I'm just getting you under the covers."

Laying Draco back down, he gently lifted the blond's hips slightly, sweeping the now scrunched up covers further down the bed with one arm. Once again, laying Draco back down, he finished tugging the covers out from under the exhausted boy and covered him with only the sheet and blanket. The room was comfortable and once Draco's body temperature started to rise during transition, the duvet would simply be too hot.

Grabbing his wand, Harry walked to the opposite side of the bed and climbed in. Dropping his wand in the middle of the right half of the bed, Harry scooted over directly next to Draco. Really, it would be better if Draco could have contact with Harry when the transition started. Skin to skin contact would soothe some of the sensations caused by transition. Maybe with the contact, Draco could continue to sleep through the first couple hours or so of his transition as well. Given how exhausted he already was, it would only help as the transition magics really started to hammer at his body.

Harry snuggled in, wrapping his arms around the unconscious blond, doused the lights with a quick parseltongue phrase, and settled in to get whatever sleep he could.

Chapter 4 - Saturday, 12 October 1996

Harry blinked his eyes open, momentarily confused about his surroundings and why he had someone in his arms. He quickly remembered and, yawning himself somewhat awake, rolled over onto his back, flinging out his right arm in search of his wand. Finding it, Harry cast a quick tempus and noted the time of 1:37.

"S'good," Harry mumbled, pleased that both he and Draco had managed to sleep for so long. Dropping his wand back onto the bed, and thankful for the dim lighting the room provided simply with a quick phrase, Harry turned and raised himself up to check on his charge.

Harry examined what he could see of Draco. There was no question that transition had started. Draco's face was flushed, likely from the small but still noticeable increase in body temperature, and his brows were furrowed slightly in discomfort. He was also becoming restless. No doubt he would wake soon.

Harry lay back down and waited for Draco to wake, contemplating what the next twenty-odd hours would bring for them both. The blond would wake, restless and uncomfortable, peevish and jittery. Things would go downhill from there. Likely they would go downhill fast and far. Draco was, after all, a powerful wizard and the more powerful the wizard, the more powerful the transition. Harry was certain Draco would be receiving a specific gift, just as Harry had. In the whole of the student population, Draco was second only to Harry in raw magical power. They had both held those positions since they entered Hogwarts at age eleven. Harry never could decide if that said a lot about them as wizards or whether that said little about other wizards.

Most witches and wizards simply received a power boost, some more than others. It depended upon the individual's magical strength and fitness entering into transition. Rather like a muggle body-builder's ability to lift greater weights than his fellows, a highly magically fit wizard could endure the strain of the invading transition magics for a longer period than a weaker or less focused wizard. This led to the possibility of absorbing sufficient power for a Gift to manifest. Draco's arranged partner, Pansy, for instance, being a relatively low-powered witch, not to mention rather undisciplined magically, probably received hardly anything. Perhaps a flush of power for several long minutes before her transition net collapsed, seizing her magic channels and keeping her from absorbing more power.

Draco woke suddenly with a gasp and a jerk of limbs. Harry quickly dismissed his musings and tightened his hold on the blond and spoke lowly, "Shh. You're safe. No need to worry. How are you feeling?"

"How do you think I'm feeling?" Draco responded sharply. He sighed and apologized softly, "Sorry. I've got a bit of a headache and I'm feeling a bit warm. Other than that, all right. Do you know what time it is?"

"It's close to two o'clock."

"Hmm." Draco moved a bit, bringing his hand up to rub his forehead, then abruptly froze.

"Uh, Harry? Why…? When…?" Draco stopped, swallowed his sudden anxiety and spoke again, banishing the squeak that had crept into his voice. "Why are we both naked and when did that happen?"

Harry smiled and kept the amusement out of his voice as he answered evenly, "When I first undressed you and because it was easier stripping us both then than having to hassle with it when it became a necessity."

"I see."

Harry waited, wondering if Draco would have the guts to ask him straight out not to have sex with him during transition.

"You know, a transition bond is stronger and deeper if sex is delayed until later in the week."

Harry was impressed that Draco had managed the whole sentence sounding for all the world as if he was discussing the advantages of silk over cotton. Harry replied with a non-committal, "Hmmm."

Silence. A nervous swallow. "The transitionee will also be more empowered if their partner doesn't siphon off some of the magics during sex."

"Hmmm," Harry replied, thinking he really shouldn't be teasing Draco at a time like this but being unable to help himself.

A shaky breath. "I'd really appreciate it if you didn't have sex with me during my transition."

"All right."

Draco was still a moment in his disbelief of Harry's easy acquiescence, then flipped abruptly and gave Harry's smiling face an outraged look. "You prat!" he exclaimed, "You weren't ever going to have sex with me, were you! I can't believe you made me ask you not to!"

"Well, technically, you didn't. But, no, I wasn't going to have sex with you. During your transition, anyway. It's my guess that we'll definitely get around to it later, though," Harry replied, his amusement at the situation finally coloring his tone.

Draco blushed, turned back around and said, "Uh, well, about that…"

Harry's eyebrows rose at Draco's blush and the nervousness in his voice. Wrapping his arms more securely around his stiff bed companion, he said, "Let me guess. You've never?"

"Yes, I have!" was Draco's indignant reply.

"With a guy," Harry clarified.

"Well, no," Draco answered nervously, "not with a guy."

"Well, we can talk about the mechanics, if you like," Harry offered obligingly.

"No!"

"I don't see why not. The topic surely needs to be discussed before we engage in any sexual activities," Harry replied reasonably.

"Later! Much later!" Draco demanded desperately.

Harry chuckled and said agreeably, "Sure. Later. Before we have sex, though, all right?"

"Uh…"

"It really is important to talk about before we do anything. I want you to know what to expect when you bottom and what to do when you top. No need to be embarrassed. I had a good teacher and I'll teach you," Harry said.

"Harry, please!" Draco begged.

"All right, all right. No more sex talk for now. You have anything you want to talk about?" Harry asked.

Draco sighed. "I don't know. I'm not feeling in the mood to talk right now. I'm rather irritated, actually."

"That's normal," Harry said reassuringly.

"I know that!" Draco snapped back then winced and said, "Sorry."

"S'all right. I'll try not to take offense at anything you say or do."

"Good luck with that. I can be a downright nasty piece of work, you know. I've taken lessons from Severus on how to cut someone to ribbons in three sentences or less. I imagine I'll be using that skill before long to curse the world in general, transition in particular, and you specifically," Draco replied, a bit of rueful humor seeping into his voice.

Harry laughed. "Yes, I imagine you will. Still, I'll do my best and we'll spend day two repairing the sore spots you hit. How's that?"

"Yes. All right. Sounds like a plan," Draco agreed. "I want to walk around," he added a moment later.

"No. Your balance will be off. Best if you just stay in bed," Harry said.

Draco flopped onto his back, disrupting Harry's embrace, bent his knees and started tapping his feet. "I know that. I didn't say I would do it, I just said I wanted to," he replied testily.

"How about you scoot over to the middle of the bed, instead," Harry offered, tugging lightly on the blond's right arm.

Draco looked at Harry in aggravation but complied with the suggestion before returning to his feet tapping. "Can you turn the lights up?" he asked abruptly.

"Yeah." A quick parseltongue command and the lights were at maximum.

"You know, it's fascinating hearing you speak parseltongue. What did you say?" Draco asked as he sat up, almost falling over before catching himself with one arm, scowling at his impaired coordination.

"Lights on."

Draco looked over in incredulity. "Lights on?"

"Yeah," Harry replied with a grin.

"What do you say to turn them off? Lights off?" Draco demanded.

"Yes," Harry answered with an even bigger grin. Then volunteered, "There's also "lights quarter", "lights half", and "lights three". I'm guessing Salazar didn't feel like saying the whole "lights three-quarter" when that's what he wanted."

"Well, at least the password to the door wasn't "open" or something else like that," Draco said in disgust.

Harry swallowed his laughter and said, "Actually…"

"No way!"

"The password usually is "open" but I had to tell the guardian why I was bringing you so we had a bit of a conversation afterwards," Harry explained.

Draco stared at Harry in disbelief, then shook his head and took a look around the room. It was just as nice as the study and decorated similarly. Idly, he watched the carved snakes in the bed posts slither up to the canopy and back down. Wrapping his arms around his legs, he started tapping his fingers as well as his feet. Already, he could feel the magic building under his skin, thrumming through the net his magic had built throughout his body over the last week to catch the magic as they bombarded him during his transition. He imagined he could actually feel the net shunting the magic into his current magic channels, stretching them into new areas of his body, expanding them to allow greater power to flow through him, branching into new abilities.

Draco was startled out of his observations when Harry sat up beside him. "Want me to rub your back a bit," Harry offered.

Draco stared at Harry, recognizing the offer for what it was - an attempt to sooth Draco's nerves from the invading magics. Draco turned back to watching the moving snakes and stated with utmost conviction, "This day is going to suck."

Moving behind Draco and placing his hands on the blond's shoulders, Harry replied with equal conviction, "Yes. This day is going to suck."

Two hours later, Draco's opinion of the probable ugliness of the day had trebled.

"Damn it all, Potter! Let me go! I don't want to stay in this sodding bed another minute! If you're not going to help me walk around then bloody well let me go and I'll do it myself!" Draco demanded shrilly, struggling against Harry's hold.

"No," Harry replied through gritted teeth, keeping his grip firmly on the wildly struggling blond. Currently Harry was kneeling behind Draco, who had managed to get his own legs out from his previous similar kneeling position and was pushing against the bed trying to knock Harry over backwards. It wasn't working well as Harry was not only bigger and stronger but determined and, unlike the desperate boy in his arms, in full control of all his faculties.

"You get off on dominating people, Potter?" Draco asked snidely.

"No, not really," Harry answered. "Ah, so now the insults are starting. Progress," Harry thought to himself clinically. The first hour after Draco had woken, Harry had been able to mostly sooth him with words and massage. The second hour had deteriorated into a fight to keep the blond abed until now Harry was using physical force to restrain Draco from getting up and inadvertently hurting himself through what would be a supreme lack of coordination. It would probably be another hour before the blond would be too tired to continue fighting so strenuously on a continual basis. After that, Draco would calm down but still make occasional escape attempts. Harry figured that would probably be more nerve-wracking than having to keep Draco restrained at all times.

He was right.

An hour and a half, a dozen escape attempts, and countless insults later, Harry was straddled across the back of Draco's thighs, holding Draco's wrists firmly to the small of his back and trying not to scowl fiercely at the still struggling, swearing blond. Draco yelled in frustration but Harry would be damned if he let the other boy up even an inch. This had been a hard won position and he wasn't giving it up.

"Potter, you bastard! Get the bloody hell off me! I do not need you sitting on me like some common barroom bouncer! I will finish this by myself! I don't know why I asked you to be here!"

"You asked me because you knew I could kick your scrawny, stubborn arse!" Harry said viciously, getting a bit frustrated himself.

"Like hell, Potter! You couldn't beat me in a fair fight if your life depended on it! You and your stupid luck is the only reason you're not a spot on the Dark Lord's shoe!"

Harry gritted his teeth and stayed silent and reminded himself that he had been cursing Salazar and his idiotic ideas to the nine hells at this time. "Maybe. You're still not getting up."

"Selfish, arrogant, stupid Gryffindor!"

Harry smiled with grim amusement. "You said that already. Probably a good dozen times. You need new insults."

Nearly a quarter hour later Harry mused to himself that he probably shouldn't have said what he did. Draco had obviously taken it as a challenge. Harry's ancestry, predictably, as well as his capacity to create descendants, had been belittled. His intellectual and magical capabilities, also predictably, had been denigrated. His choice of friends and his house had been slandered with impressive virulence. His future prospects had been attacked mercilessly. His general looks, hygiene, fashion sense, social skills, etiquette, morals, sexual appetites, and common sense had all been roundly condemned. All this had been done quite creatively and in several different languages, some of which Harry didn't speak. All in all, Harry was rather impressed with Draco's vituperative prowess. It was a good thing he had a fairly strong sense of self.

"Please, Merlin, let's get to the begging stage soon," Harry pleaded in his mind while Draco continued his verbal rampage.

"Please, Harry, it itches!"

"I know it itches. You can't scratch, though, or you'll tear off your skin," Harry replied, once again intercepting Draco's hands.

"I don't care! Please!"

"I care, so no."

Draco had finished insulting him some time ago, then started begging for Harry to let him move around, was now complaining about the itching all over his body, and would soon start crying about the prickling energy under his skin. Harry figured, using his own experience as a guide, that they were halfway to noon.

The incessant prickling, once it started, was going to drive Draco crazy, just as it had him. The unrelenting prickling, as if every cell in his body had fallen asleep and was waking up all at once, had been the worst phase of transition. It lasted twelve hours. He had screamed his pain unreservedly, sobbed his frustration unabashedly, begged shamelessly for the sensations to stop, and promised anything if he was given even momentary relief. He had, essentially, been delirious for the greater part of half a day.

He didn't figure Draco would be any better off.

Draco was sobbing harshly while Harry held his hands and rocked him, trying to give as much comfort as possible. Harry had known it would be bad but he was unprepared for just how much it hurt him to listen to Draco's distress…and have to deny him.

"Please, Harry. Just once? It'll be better after that, I'm sure," Draco pleaded desperately.

"No, Draco," Harry replied, squeezing his eyes shut in sorrow.

"Please. Please. Just once."

"No, Draco. You asked me not to, remember?"

"I take it back. I take it back. Please. Just fuck me. Just once. Please," Draco begged piteously.

"No. You'll be angry at me later," Harry replied.

"I won't. I promise. Please. I promise," Draco denied frantically.

"No." Harry did his best to block out the continued pleas, keeping his eyes closed and concentrating on keeping the blond's hands trapped while rocking him gently. A shift in the magic made Harry's eyes shoot open.

"Noon," he thought with relief, "It must be."

The magic Harry had been feeling surrounding Draco had all had the sensation of being from without, adding power to Draco's skin. Now it felt as if the magic were exuding from Draco. Presently the magic would start to stabilize and any physical manifestations of Draco's gift would begin.

"Wonder what he received? Probably not fire," Harry mused, glad to be entering the downswing of Draco's transition.

Harry continued to rock the other boy. He figured it would be at least a couple hours before he would be able to see even a hint of the manifestation of Draco's gift.

Draco cried tiredly while Harry rubbed his hands all over Draco's body trying to ease the newly perceived muscle aches as well as the lingering prickles. When Draco was able to gather enough energy he would try to move away from Harry's hands, his skin extra sensitive.

Harry was aware that his rather light massage was causing Draco great discomfort; it probably felt like sandpaper running across his skin. Nevertheless, he continued with his task, knowing that the attention now would pay off in a shorter recovery time. Draco would thank him for it later in the week, he was sure, even if at the moment he occasionally managed to beg Harry to stop. A few more hours of this and Draco's magic channels would be healed enough for the boy to fall unconscious. Likely the time would be a couple hours from midnight, same as when everything started.

As he continued his ministrations, Harry stared in wonder at Draco's hair; it was now a pure white. White. Amazing. And to Harry's intense amusement, it was pure white everywhere.

"Harry?" Draco fluttered his eyes open, trying to find his companion, whose touch was suddenly gone.

"Shh. I'm right here," Harry replied soothingly, "I'm just getting the blankets."

Harry pulled the bedclothes up off the floor where they had been strewn sometime during the day and covered both Draco and himself as he lay down beside the blond. Wrapping an arm around Draco, Harry got himself comfortable. He was beyond ready to get some sleep and could feel, in an awareness at the back of his mind, that Draco was ready as well, the new magic coursing through his body finally calming enough for sleep to be possible.

Draco sighed, Harry wasn't sure if it was in contentment, satisfaction, or relief, and said his name again softly, "Harry."

"Sleep now. For as long as you like. All right?"

Draco didn't answer and Harry could feel through their new bond as Draco slipped into unconsciousness. Harry hissed the lights off and gratefully followed minutes later.

Chapter 5 - Sunday, 13 October 1996

Harry groaned as he tried to roll over when he woke. "That was unwise," he thought dryly. Trying to move as little as possible, Harry sent out his right arm to hunt for his wand. Giving up a minute later, remembering he had relocated it to the nightstand when Draco had started to get belligerent, he sighed and resigned himself to having to drag his sorry arse out of the bed one screaming muscle at a time.

Lights quarter, Harry hissed softly and proceeded to slowly untangle himself from his bed companion. Groaning again, he slowly made his way to the side of the bed. Harry picked up his wand and recast his previous spell, wondering how long he had slept.

"Wow. 11:02. I haven't slept that late since my own transition," Harry snorted to himself. "And Draco is," Harry paused to check the bond, "still completely out, thank Merlin. I'm in desperate need of hot water."

"Lots and lots of hot water," Harry murmured to himself as he slowly trudged towards the bathroom.

An undetermined amount of time later, Harry felt Draco starting to wake and quickly finished showering. Not in the mood to fuss with the remainder of his ablutions, Harry grabbed his wand and cast a hair-combing charm following by a couple drying charms and a mouth cleansing charm. Grabbing a hand towel and wetting it down with warm water, Harry left to go tend to Draco.

Leaving a highly disgruntled former-blond ten minutes later, Harry returned the hand towel to the bathroom and went to the food box to find something appropriate for the two of them to eat. Deciding on tomato soup, he brought out a self-contained serving and activated the heating charms on the mug. Grabbing a spoon, Harry went back to the bed and set the now-steaming mug on the nightstand near Draco. Harry helped Draco sit and began stacking pillows against the headboard behind him. Draco scowled but allowed the help and collapsed back onto the pillows once they were ready. Harry climbed onto the bed, settled himself near Draco, and reached over to grab the soup and spoon.

"You'd better not be thinking of feeding me, Potter," Draco groused, still annoyed at the earlier "bath" Harry had given him.

Harry raised an eyebrow and wordlessly held the spoon out at chest height. Draco reached for it, even managed to grab it with little trouble, and then watched in dismay as his hand shook uncontrollably. It was quite obvious that he'd get soup all over everything and probably none into his mouth. Draco closed his eyes, lowered his arm, and uttered a heartfelt, "Shite."

Harry reclaimed the spoon and waited for Draco to resign himself to the situation.

"Not a word, Potter. You hear me?" Draco said, opening his eyes and glaring at Harry.

Harry nodded seriously and held out a spoonful of soup for Draco. Draco took the mouthful obediently and rolled the soup around on his tongue, a look of surprise coming to his face.

"This tastes like the tomato soup from Anton's in Diagon Alley," Draco said.

"It is," Harry replied. "They have a side owl-order business where they sell all of their dishes in single-serving containers spelled for stasis with an automatic temperature charm. They're mostly for people who want to pick up a quick dinner on the way home, but they're also great for people going on extended stays into remote areas. So goes the advertising, at any rate. Of course, for myself, I found them perfect for my food box," Harry waved the spoon at an ornately carved chest that Draco would have thought held something more valuable than dinner.

"Clever," Draco said, impressed.

"I thought so. Also, quite convenient for me," Harry said, offering another spoonful of soup.

Draco took the bite and nodded. Five minutes and half a mug of soup later, Draco turned his head to the side tiredly, "No more."

"All right," Harry agreed and began eating the remaining portion.

Draco grimaced at Harry. "You should get yourself another spoon, Harry."

Raising an eyebrow, and seeing a delightful opportunity to tease the other boy a bit, Harry replied, "I'll be tasting a lot more intimate places on your body than your mouth by the end of the week, Draco. I hardly think sharing a spoon is a problem."

"Harry!" Draco protested, flushing in embarrassment and a sudden flare of lust.

"I could tell you all about it, if you like," Harry offered innocently, knowing Draco would refuse.

"No!" Draco replied, still bright red.

Laughing, Harry replied, "All right. Is there anything you would like to talk about, then?"

Draco laid his head back on the pillows and sighed. "I don't know. I can't think of anything right off. Ask me later. Finish the soup."

"Hmmm," Harry replied and did just that.

Several minutes later Harry walked the empty mug back over to his food box and placed it in the compartment he had reserved for dirty dishes from Anton's. No sense in banishing them since the restaurant offered a rebate on them. Walking back to Draco, Harry once again admired his companion's pure white hair.

Sitting once again, Harry lightly stroked Draco's arm. "You still awake?" He asked softly.

"Yes," Draco replied slowly, opening his eyes to gaze at Harry.

Giving Draco a mischievous smile, Harry asked, "Don't you want to know what gift you received?"

Draco widened his eyes. He couldn't believe the thought hadn't occurred to him already to check his hair! Lifting a trembling hand, he reached up for a lock and pulled it over his shoulder to examine it.

"Merlin," Draco breathed, staring in wonderment at his pure white hair.

Several moments passed before Draco started to laugh in wonder and delight. He turned his face and grinned at Harry in unmasked joy. Harry grinned back at him wholeheartedly.

"Congratulations," Harry said with new affection.

"A Healer! Merlin! A Healer!" Draco laughed. "I've always wanted to be a medi-wizard even though father didn't like the idea." Draco's face fell as he thought of his father. "Father won't like it," he said sorrowfully.

"Then your father can sod off. I think it's grand," Harry said and was glad to see the joyous expression return to Draco's face.

"What's your gift? You must have gotten one; you're at least as powerful as me," Draco asked curiously, still smiling widely.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "Nope. Not telling. I want you to concentrate on how to express your gift, not mine. I'll tell you later."

"All right. Fair enough," Draco agreed.

"How about I rub you down and tuck you in for a nap?" Harry said.

"A nap? I've been awake less than an hour," Draco replied in disbelief.

"And you're just bounding with energy, I can tell," Harry said, rolling his eyes while shaking his head and smiling at his companion.

Draco grinned ruefully and nodded his head, giving his hair one last look before letting Harry help him to lie down again. He was asleep before Harry finished with his arms.

Draco dragged his eyes open and looked over to where he heard sounds of quill on parchment. Harry turned to him and smiled. Draco smiled back. "How long have I been asleep? What time is it?"

"A couple of hours or so. It's," Harry stopped and cast the time charm, "nearly quarter of three."

Draco blinked in shock. "A quarter of three?"

"Yes. You hungry?" Harry asked, completely unconcerned about the time.

"Uh. Yeah. A bit," Draco replied, still somewhat surprised at the time.

"Would you like more tomato soup?"

Draco cocked his head slightly to the side, considering the meals Anton's offered. "Do you have borsht?"

"I believe so," Harry answered, getting up from the small desk he had been sitting at to go to his food box.

Bringing a mug and spoon back to the bed, Harry once again arranged a pile of pillows for Draco to lean against and then sat close to Draco and offered him the utensil silently. Draco eyed it warily but gamely reached for it. Sighing in disgust at his shaking hand, Draco didn't bother to protest when Harry retrieved the spoon and began feeding him. Once again Draco turned his head away when he felt he couldn't eat anymore and Harry finished the soup.

"You should try to stay awake for a while," Harry encouraged, dealing with the dirty dishes. "Maybe we could talk."

Draco nodded. "I'm feeling pretty awake still," he agreed.

"What would you like to talk about? I know you don't want to talk about sex," Harry added slyly, laughing when Draco blushed and shook his head vehemently.

"How about you explain that rambling monologue to me? The one about how you found this place," Draco said.

"All right," Harry said agreeably, returning to the bed to assemble his own pile of pillows next to Draco to lie against.

"Well, as I'm sure you remember, in our third year Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban and was supposedly after me. At one point the guardian portrait for the Gryffindor was slashed up, even, from Sirius trying to get to me. At the time, I got a bit nervous about him finding me and started to wonder where I could go that he wouldn't be able to get to me."

Harry glanced at Draco and saw him paying attention avidly. "The first place I thought about was the Chamber of Secrets, but I really didn't want to go down there. Bad memories and all."

"You've been in the Chamber of Secrets?" Draco asked, astounded. "I thought that was just a myth!"

Harry looked at Draco curiously. "No. It's real," he said. "I'm actually quite surprised you didn't know that. Voldemort knows, so I figured your father did and so you did." Harry ignored the flinch from Draco when he said the dark lord's name.

"No. I didn't know. Would you take me down there one day?" Draco asked, curiously. Harry had said it held bad memories, but maybe he would take Draco down for a few minutes to look around anyway.

Harry looked away. "Maybe. Ask another time." Harry snorted in amusement and said, "Maybe on a marmalade day."

Draco grinned at him. "All right. So, your first thought was the Chamber of Secrets…"

"Right. But I didn't want to go there. I started thinking, though. The Chamber is not all that glamorous," Harry gave Draco a pointed glance, to which the other boy simply shrugged, "and I couldn't imaging Salazar Slytherin spending any time there. I began to wonder if there were other places he may have hidden around the castle. Being a founder and all."

Draco nodded. "Sensible."

Harry continued, "I started looking around the castle as I was walking to classes and every once in a while I would notice a snake where I hadn't ever noticed one before. Carvings. Inlays. Tapestries. Etcetera. I thought maybe I could try talking to them to see if they would talk back or if they did anything when I said certain words."

"Like open," Draco said dryly.

Harry grinned. "Yes, like open."

"Go on," Draco said eagerly.

"So I started walking around the castle talking to snakes. I figured that everyone already knew I was a parselmouth and if they were going to have another hissy fit about me using my ability then to hell with the lot of them. It was my ability, and I knew I wasn't a dark wizard, so why not use it?" Harry said somewhat challengingly.

Draco simply nodded and kept silent.

"I had this chant going of everything to say to one of the snakes. Hello. Open. Close. Up. Down. Left. Right. North. South. East. West. I used the directions because I noticed that the snakes seemed to always point in one of the directions and thought it might be significant. I also said please and thank you."

Draco gave a soft laugh at this last statement and Harry grinned at him.

"You never know when it might be prudent to be polite to a snake," Harry admonished with light humor. "Well, one night, after having no luck whatsoever, I noticed one of my laces untied so I stopped in an alcove to retie it."

"The one we came in," Draco said in understanding.

Harry nodded. "Yes. Anyway, I was annoyed and cursing about my lack of success. What I didn't realize was that I was cursing in parseltongue."

"How can you not realize you're talking in parseltongue," Draco asked in amazement.

Harry shrugged. "It sounds like English to me. It's only if I'm paying attention that I can hear a bit of a hissing undertone."

"Fascinating," Draco said, raising his eyebrows.

"So there I was, tying my shoelace and cursing unresponsive, uncooperative snakes, when I suddenly found myself falling," Harry made a falling motion with his hand.

"The password is unresponsive, uncooperative snakes?" Draco asked in disbelief. He couldn't believe Salazar's passwords!

"Actually, it's just uncooperative snakes. No unresponsive at the beginning," Harry replied, enjoying Draco's expression.

"Why!" Draco asked, his disbelief written all over his face.

"Salazar had a bit of a temper but didn't want to yell when he got annoyed with his students, so he placed several of what he called quick exits all about the castle. That way he could escape his students, who weren't paying appropriate attention to his instructions, quickly. Hence: uncooperative snakes," Harry said with a small smile.

"Of course," Draco said dryly, shaking his head. "Go on."

"That's about it, really. I had a conversation with the door and it let me in to talk to Salazar. Salazar admitted to being quite bored and I agreed to come back on a regular basis. I've been coming here ever since and taking lessons from him."

"Why did Salazar agree to teach you?" Draco asked curiously. "It had to have been more than him being bored. Especially since you're not of his house."

Harry stared at Draco a moment, then answered softly, his hesitation obvious, "Actually, I am. The hat wanted me in Slytherin but I didn't want to go there, then."

Draco looked dumbstruck. Finally, he managed a quiet, "Why not?" A moment later, he added sadly, "It was me, wasn't it?"

Harry gave a small nod. "You have to understand where I was at that time. I'd been living with muggles who hated anything abnormal and that included me. It could have been worse, certainly, but I had a rather awful childhood. One of the worst things about it was my cousin; he was the neighborhood bully and I was his favorite target. I have a very immediate and negative reaction towards anyone that insults others, especially for something that isn't their fault. Rather a been there, done that, didn't like it one bit reaction. In Diagon Alley you had insulted Hagrid, who was the first person to ever really be nice to me. And I do mean that literally. Then on the train you insulted the first person my age that had ever been nice to me. I'm afraid I didn't give you much of a chance. I'm usually better at seeing between the lines. My only excuse is that I was a still a bit overwhelmed by the wizarding world and not thinking completely clearly."

"It's all right," Draco sighed. "I wasn't exactly being my normal charming self."

"True enough," Harry smiled at him. "So when it was my turn to be sorted, I told the hat not to put me in Slytherin. So it put me in Gryffindor instead. I have enough Gryffindor traits to be able to pass well enough, even if it's a pain most of the time."

"Too bad you can't be resorted," Draco said.

"Truly," Harry agreed with a small snort. "At least I have my lessons with Salazar, where I can drop my mask. And you, now."

Draco gave him a blinding smile, glad Harry considered him someone he could trust with his true face. "Yes."

Deciding they needed a much less serious topic to discuss, Draco asked curiously, "How did you keep everyone from finding out what you were doing?" Maybe he could come with Harry in the future, if he could keep everyone from getting suspicious.

Harry shook his head. "You'll have to ask Salazar," he said.

"All right," Draco agreed. "Who've you been writing to?" Draco asked suddenly.

Harry smiled slyly at Draco. "I've been writing for things for you," he said.

"For me," Draco said in surprise and excitement. "What!"

"Some books I thought you might like. Some books I thought you might hate but asked for and will have you look at anyway. Some books I thought might be good to have for your gift just on general principle. Anton's for more tomato soup. Some other things."

"Books I might hate," Draco said in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Muggle books. The muggles can be very ingenious and they're incessantly curious. They know a great deal about how the body is put together, how it works, and how to fix it, something I'm not sure wizards do. I ordered Gray's Anatomy, which is very comprehensive, and some other basic anatomy and physiology books. I also got some books on what muggles call first aid and also battlefield medicine. I don't know if it's true everywhere in the wizarding world, but I have noticed that here at Hogwarts there doesn't seem to be any first aid done. Everyone is just shunted off to Madame Pomphrey right away. I thought…Well, I thought, if there's a war and people get injured that there may not be enough time or energy for an immediate full healing or a place for people to recover quietly. People might have to make do with whatever they can get. I figured it would be nice if you knew what to do in that case. How to stabilize people and let them keep until they can be treated more thoroughly later and/or in a safer place," Harry said, ruffling his hair and pulling it over his scar.

Draco stared at Harry a moment then said softly, "There is wizard first aid. I took a class in it over the summer. You should take it. It's interesting, useful, and like you said, it could become important if there's a war. I'll look at the books. Thanks for getting them."

"You're not upset?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"No. Actually, they sound interesting. It'll be nice, I think, to see different perspectives on healing," Draco replied sincerely.

Harry grinned widely, relieved. "I'm glad you said that because I'm pretty sure there are at least a hundred muggle books coming."

"What! Why so many?" Draco asked, aghast. Surely Harry didn't expect him to read them all!

"They're all from different perspectives. I got some on allopathic medicine, some on homeopathic, some on anthroposophic, some on Indian and Chinese and…"

"Harry!" Draco exclaimed, interrupting, wanting to scold the other boy for what Draco thought seemed to be an excess of books. He closed his mouth, though, when he saw Harry's earnest expression. Instead, he smiled and said, "Thank you. I appreciate it. Did you perchance get any wizarding books?" He asked playfully.

Harry blushed a bit and laughed. "Yes. Gobs. You'll have a veritable library on healing by the time the week is out," he admitted, somewhat abashed.

Draco laughed. "Great. I think."

"You don't have to read them all this week," Harry allowed pompously.

"Thanks," Draco replied. He couldn't help but laugh at Harry's antics.

"You're welcome," Harry said, joining in Draco's laughter.

Chapter 6 - Monday, 14 October 1996

Draco was bored. None of the books Harry had ordered for him had arrived yet and Harry wouldn't let him read anything else, claiming that it would distract his mind from exploring his healing gift. Just because Harry was likely right didn't mean that Draco wasn't bored.

Harry was once again writing at the small desk on the opposite wall but Draco figured it would be easy enough to get the other's attention. Over the last day and a half Harry had been quite willing to talk to him about anything and everything whenever Draco felt up for a conversation. They both had very much enjoyed their talks so Draco felt confident in starting another one.

"Who's your transition partner?" Draco asked curiously, lounging in bed against his stack of pillows. Nobody at Hogwarts had claimed that honor and the information hadn't been bandied about in the papers. Surprising, really, given how un-private Harry's private life actually was.

Harry stiffened for a moment, then relaxed and answered tightly, "No one."

"What!" Draco stared at Harry in shock and disbelief, unable to comprehend that Harry would, or could, have gone through transition without anyone to help him. Harry was as powerful a wizard as Draco - only in his most private thoughts did Draco admit that Harry was actually more powerful than himself - and it would have been impossible to survive transition alone.

"No one," Harry repeated flatly.

"But…but…," Draco stuttered. Impossible! A low-powered witch or wizard could go through transition alone with little or no problems; Pansy certainly hadn't needed any help. Someone of average power…well, sometimes they could and sometimes they couldn't. It depended on the magnitude of their magical fitness, i.e. power and focus, and the strength of their determination to not injure themselves. It was possible, but it was dangerous and was not recommended; many who had tried had ended up seriously injuring themselves and some had actually died. But a powerful witch or wizard? They would kill themselves. Oh, not intentionally. But they would tear themselves apart.

Draco shuddered at the vague snatches of memory he had of the height of his own transition. He'd be ashamed of his whining and begging and sobbing if he felt he had had any control over his actions. But he hadn't and he knew it. And that was really the point. If Harry hadn't been there then Draco would have scratched gouges into every bit of his body he could reach. He wouldn't have felt pain or alarm as he ripped himself apart, just the desperate need to stop the sensations, and he eventually would have bled to death. It was a grisly fate, met by everyone who was too powerful to transition alone and had tried anyway.

Swallowing bile at the very thought of Harry ending up like that, Draco said, "But you can't have gone through transition alone, Harry. It's not possible. I mean, you would have… You had to have had a partner."

Not turning around, Harry said, "I didn't. Who would I have chosen? Ron? His jealousy, not to mention ignorance, would have kept him from truly helping me express my gift. In addition, he doesn't have the willpower necessary to resist someone begging to be fucked and I, like you, had no interest in sharing my transition magic."

Draco could see the top of the fancy quill Harry had been using spin in a broken dance as Harry twirled it in agitation. The bitterness in Harry's voice when speaking of Ron turned to scorn as he continued to talk. "Hermione, maybe? She might have the willpower to deny sex but she, too, would have been extremely jealous as it became clear that my transition was exponentially more powerful than hers. She would have spent her time lecturing about my gift and how to use it responsibly, according to her, instead of helping me express it creatively. Not to mention she would never have been able to keep her mouth shut about what my gift was."

"Let's see. Who else?" Draco heard the quill drop and watched silently as Harry finally turned around, crossing his arms over his bare chest and straightening his legs out in front of him. Draco ruthlessly suppressed the flare of lust at the unimpeded view of Harry's defined stomach.

Tilting his head back against the chair to stare at the tiled ceiling, Harry continued, his voice a parody of thoughtful deliberation, "Neville? But, no. A nice guy, really, quite sweet, and smart in his own specialty. He'll be a master herbologist in no time after school. Still, he's too timid to have been able to effectively deal with the strength of my transition. Dean? Seamus? Lavender? Parvati? No. None of them would have been decent, much less good, choices."

Glancing quickly at Draco, Harry asked, "Don't you agree?"

Draco nodded silently, understanding completely. After all, was he not in a similar position with all of his housemates?

Crossing his ankles, Harry continued, "What about the adults, then? McGonagall? No. That woman is just as responsible, or perhaps irresponsible is the better word, as Dumbledore in leaving me with the Dursley's. I don't want to be tied to her."

Bringing his head and gaze down fully, Harry smirked at Draco's disgusted look at the thought of McGonagall as a transition partner. Continuing his analysis and now watching Draco's face for his reaction, Harry said, "Hagrid?"

Chuckling at the horrified expression, Harry suggested, "Remus Lupin."

"That's illegal. He's a werewolf and a transition bond would be tainted by the wolf," Draco stated. He was starting to see where Harry's questions were leading … But how had Harry managed alone?

"I know. So. How about the great Dumbledore himself?" Harry asked with false awe.

Draco actually winced at that suggestion, his face expressing nausea at the mere thought. Containing his revulsion, Draco asked, "What about Sirius Black? He's your godfather and you mentioned that he was only supposedly after you. I'd imagine that means that you're in contact with him and know he's innocent."

Harry stared at Draco in utter shock, then his face blanked and he asked in a terse, cold voice, "You know he's innocent?"

Draco flinched from Harry's tone, berating himself for stepping on what he should have recognized would be an obviously raw nerve. Draco nodded jerkily and hesitantly said, "Probably all of the Slytherins know, or at the very least have great suspicion that he's innocent."

At Harry's continued blank expression, Draco expanded, "You already know that a lot of Slytherin parents were Death Eaters. Well, about half of them anyway. Peter Pettigrew was known to the inner circle Death Eaters and some of the others, so they all figure that it was him who betrayed your parents. The Ministry couldn't find that many Death Eaters after the Dark Lord was defeated and the public was screaming for blood. Sirius Black's name was raked through the mud by The Daily Prophet even though there was never a trial. That just screams innocent to any and all Slytherins."

"I see."

After several minutes of silence, Draco ventured back to the original topic. "So why not have Sirius Black as your partner? Other than Dumbledore might have vetoed it, I suppose." Now that he really thought about it a bit Draco couldn't imagine Harry having a partner other than one allowed by Dumbledore. The question was who would the Headmaster approve of?

Harry gave a heavy sigh, hissing slightly through his teeth. Despite his still obvious distress, Harry answered calmly, "Yeah, he would have. But even if he hadn't, I still wouldn't have chosen Siri. Yes, he's my godfather. Yes, he loves me unconditionally. Yes, even, that he would have been strong enough."

Another deep sigh and Harry ran his hand through his hair in a move that Draco was beginning to realize was a nervous habit. "But," Harry stated firmly, "he would have been a poor choice. Innocent he may be, but Azkaban did not leave him untouched. He's sane enough to get by, but he's not completely sane and I didn't want to be tied to that."

Draco again nodded silently. Still. "I can't believe, though, that Dumbledore would have let you be alone. I would have thought that if you didn't pick someone, he would have. Or he would pick for you anyway," Draco stated quietly.

Harry smiled bleakly. "Oh, he did. Have no doubt about that. Would you like to know who he picked "in my best interests"? I bet you would never guess."

Draco eyed his companion warily. The quirk of Harry's lips expressed a bitterness equal to Draco's own feelings toward his father about controlling his transition. Doubtless Harry had just as much anger, too, and Draco didn't feel like setting him off. Nevertheless, he answered the question, "One of his precious Order members I would guess. One that was blindly obedient. An Auror, if he had one, since that is supposedly what you want to do after graduation."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Very impressive, Draco. You're correct on all counts. Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror First Class. Fanatically loyal. An excellent Auror by all accounts, but still a jerk: pompous, self-centered, arrogant, self-righteous, not to mention a pathetic conversationalist."

Harry grinned suddenly in great amusement, "Extremely Gryffindor."

Draco couldn't hold back the laugh at Harry's statement. "And you can say that with a straight face since you're really a Slytherin," Draco said through his wide smile.

"Truly," Harry said, smiling right back.

"So how did you get out of it?" Draco said curiously.

Harry smirked and said, "I didn't."

Staring at Harry blankly, Draco didn't comment for several moments. "But, you said you didn't have a partner. And I want to know just how you managed that, by the way. How can you have no partner and Shacklebolt for a partner at the same time?"

Harry shook his head with mock sorrow, "It just wasn't the right time to form a bond with an over-zealous Auror."

"A time-turner! You used a time-turner! Wait. No, you couldn't have. You would have needed to go back at least two days to have no partner, preferably seven to hide everything, and a time-turner has a maximum of one day. How did you do it?" Draco asked, confusion floating charmingly over his face.

After taking a moment to admire Draco's cute expression, Harry went back to smirking and explained, smugly, "Actually, there are time-turners that go back seven days. I didn't use one, though. I did something else much grander, extremely difficult, and probably quite illegal, although I didn't check."

Raising a challenging eyebrow, Draco questioned, "What, then?"

"A time ritual."

Blinking his lack of understanding, Draco asked curiously, "What is that? What does it do? And where did you learn it?" Harry noted that curiosity was an even cuter expression on Draco's face than confusion.

A small chime sounded and Harry stood and went to Draco's side, reaching out to cradle the other boy's face with his hands. Titling Draco's head up, Harry examined his eyes. The pupils were still dilated, though that could be from the low lighting. A short phrase upped the lights to half brightness and Harry watched Draco's pupils contract. Slowly. Harry returned the lights to their previous level.

"Well?" Draco asked impatiently.

"Patience, dear," Harry replied dryly. Harry then ran his hands firmly over Draco's skull, forehead to neck, massaging lightly to ease residual tension and check for any spots that where the transition magics might still be pooling. Finding nothing, Harry continued his inspection with each of Draco's arms in turn. Finding only a few minor spots easily rubbed out, Harry then moved the pillow stack out of the way and gently pushed the other boy flat to his back and started on his legs.

Draco didn't complain - he'd learned quickly that it was futile - but he did flush and grab the sheet, keeping it strategically over certain private areas. Harry snorted in amusement as he began work on rubbing out a rather large magic pool on Draco's left thigh. Draco scowled back in annoyance but still didn't protest.

"Turn over," Harry said quietly, having finished checking the front of Draco's legs after several minutes of work on that large spot.

Huffing with impatience, Draco nevertheless did as he was bid, knowing he wouldn't get another word about the time ritual until Harry had finished his examination. Draco refused to admit that he actually reveled in the attention, although he rather suspected that Harry knew anyway. He also refused to admit that these short massages were actually quite helpful; he'd probably be up and about a whole day earlier than he would have been otherwise. Breaking up the magic pools manually, instead of letting them dissipate naturally over time, seemed to encourage the new magic channels to strengthen more quickly, letting his new magic flow properly instead of leaking and pooling in random spots, causing discomfort.

Harry ran his thumbs firmly up either side of Draco's spine, smirking in self-satisfaction when Draco moaned in relief. Not that the other boy would ever admit to doing such a thing. Draco really was amusing sometimes, the things he got embarrassed over. Nearly five minutes later, Harry patted Draco's hip, an indication that he wanted Draco to turn back over, and watched as Draco obeyed his silent command and rolled to his back with a soft sigh.

Harry smirked again when he glanced at Draco's face while working for several more minutes on the other boy's belly and chest. Draco had a contented expression and was blinking somewhat sleepily. Harry had been performing these massages every two waking hours for the past two days and Draco never failed to relax, sometimes to the point of napping. Harry was gratified at this reaction, taking it as an indication of Draco's trust in him.

Giving one last sweep of his hands over Draco's chest, Harry finished and pulled the abandoned duvet up over his charge, tucking it in slightly around the shoulders. Harry then walked around to his side of the bed and climbed on, settled himself about a foot away from Draco, scrunched his bare toes into a fold of the duvet, and waited for the other boy to come out of his slight trance and ask his questions again. It only took a few minutes before Draco's head turned in Harry's direction.

"So, how did you manage alone? And this ritual. Will you tell me about it? Why you did it? How you got away with it?" Draco asked, wiggling slightly under the covers to get more comfortable. He didn't bother to throw off the duvet; Harry was insistent about wanting him covered and warm for at least half an hour after the combination examination and massage.

"Sure, I'll tell you. Just the basics, though. I don't want to go into all the details. It would take forever."

"All right."

"You'll keep this to yourself, right?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Draco assured him. Harry's tone had made the question more of a statement, so Draco took no offense to his sense of confidentiality and ability to keep a secret.

Harry watched the movements of the enchanted snakes on the bedposts and answered Draco's question of why he had decided to do the time ritual. "Well, it's like this…At the beginning of fifth year I got a rather rude awakening about the whole transition partner thing. Once I got over my anger about the situation, I sat down with Salazar and did some serious planning."

"At the first breakfast after the feast, Martin, a really shy sixth year, was being teased about having taken an older man as his transition partner. His birthday had been just a few weeks prior. He admitted, rather unwisely, really, that they had indeed become lovers and planned to pursue the relationship to see where it would go. The guys were taunting him about submitting to the kinky whims of an older man and the girls were sighing about how romantic it was to have an older and more experienced lover. Several people were questioning the motives of an older man acquiescing to being a transition partner for a cute teenage boy. Personally, I thought he had made a great choice and said so. I could see that Martin really cared for this man and was happy with the way things had turned out. This, of course, transferred all the comments to me and started raging speculation about who I would take as a transition partner. I told everyone to bugger off but the damage was done and the rumors started."

Harry sighed in annoyance and tugged at his hair. "People started making comments and/or suggestions. Girls and boys started being extra nice to me and trying to engage me in conversation. It was annoying but not too bad, really. No one had been exceptionally crude."

Harry stopped and looked at Draco curiously, "I had noticed that you never said one nasty word to me about it at all. I was surprised at the time but now I think maybe it was because it was a touchy subject for you as well and you knew it wasn't something to tease about. Plus, I'd imaging I was using grape jelly a lot," Harry added with a grin.

Draco grinned back and nodded. "Yes, for a week or so, the second week of school, I think." Draco had quite assiduously stayed away from Harry that week. Never before and never since had Harry had grape jelly more than two days in a row.

"Yeah, that makes sense considering what happened," Harry said.

Harry continued his story, "On the next Friday I got back from classes and sat down by the fire in the common room with a magazine and proceeded to mind my own business. Ron and Hermione had been avoiding me all week but evidently decided that that night was a good time to kiss and make up and came over to sit with me. A few minutes of idle chatter, as if we were automatically back to being best friends, and Ron pops up with "You know, Harry, I'll be your transition partner if you want. It'd be fine with me." As if it would be some great burden that he would take on and he was being gracious!"

"He didn't!" Draco responded, his expression one of appalled shock.

"Oh, yes he did," Harry affirmed strongly. His indignation and anger over the offensive offer, even after a year, was still quite apparent.

"That's abhorrent! What did you say? I hope you told him to sod off," Draco said with a sneer of disgust. If someone had made such an offer to him he would have hexed them to the infirmary! The nerve! It was an honor to be a transition partner, not an onus!

Harry snorted with his own sense of disgust. "Well, after I stopped gaping, I basically said thanks, I'll think about it. He got this great big grin on his face as if I'd just said yes and gave me a slap on the back."

"Merlin! How gauche. I imagine he was quite disappointed when Dumbledore decided on Shacklebolt. Serves him right, peasant," Draco stated with venomous satisfaction. Oh, he could just see jealous devastation on the Weasel's face…

Harry snickered at Draco's offense on his behalf. "Truly. Then Hermione started in on me, and by this time everyone was now avidly listening. She warned me that I needed to be careful who I choose, as if I didn't know that, and started listing things I should think about. I tried to interrupt her but she just kept on and on. I finally had to yell to get her to shut up. She had the nerve to look disapproving and scold me for being rude when she was just trying to give me advice on something so important. I told her it was none of her bloody business and she got even more bent out of shape and started in about how this was an important decision and I couldn't just pick anyone without careful consideration. Then…then she really pissed me off."

"What did she say?" Draco asked with some trepidation. He couldn't imagine what would be so awful. "Is it what started the grape jelly?"

"Oh, yes, definitely," Harry answered, nodding. Mimicking the girl's speech and mannerisms, Harry added, "You should talk to Headmaster Dumbledore, he could help you pick someone appropriate."

Draco looked stunned for a moment, then shook his head in amazement. "I knew Gryffindors had little tact, but that's got to be the most idiotic thing she could have said. If she had done as much reading as she probably said she did, she would have known that the choice of partner is highly personal and shouldn't be dictated by anybody and certainly not somebody who was responsible for placing you with awful muggles."

Harry nodded and said sarcastically, "But I can't make any decisions without her considered advice, now can I?"

Draco snorted in derision but said nothing.

"I just got up and left at that point, furious. I could hear her demanding that I come back and stop being so unreasonable. Unreasonable!" Harry exclaimed incredulously. "I couldn't believe the nerve of her. It was none of her bloody business who I chose and it sure wasn't Dumbledore's!" Harry said, his indignation obvious. He fell silent, an angry expression on his face.

"Then…?" Draco said leadingly, once again suppressing a flash of lust as he watched Harry during his impassioned speech. Draco wondered what that would passion be like when it was focused on him.

"Well, then I walked the halls for a while and started to get worried. It was obvious that the whole situation was going to be a huge circus and would only stop if I made my choice known. So, I thought about it. Who did I want? And when I came to the conclusion that there wasn't anybody, I was scared out of my mind."

"I understand," Draco said softly. And he did. Had he not been scared out of his mind when he realized that there wasn't anyone he wanted besides Severus and Harry?

Harry glanced at Draco and gave him a small smile. "I imagine you do. There wasn't anybody you wanted either, was there?"

"My godfather, but that would have gotten him killed." Draco bit his lip and flushed slightly. Quietly, he added, "And you. I had always wanted to be friends with you."

Harry gave Draco another smile but then asked curiously, "Why would it have gotten your godfather killed if you chose him?"

"Severus is my godfather," Draco stated, a slight challenge in his tone and eyebrows. He was aware of the intense dislike between Severus and Harry. Who wasn't?

Harry was taken aback for a moment, but then gave a short laugh. "Well, all right. I still don't understand why it would have gotten him killed."

"I'll tell you later. So what did you do when you realized there wasn't anyone you wanted to transition with?"

Harry ruffled his hair. "I came to talk to Salazar and we came to the conclusion that we needed a plan. Not only on how to get through my transition with no partner, but also how to avoid being made to take an unwanted partner. After talking a while, we both agreed that Dumbledore, as much as he'd been controlling my life up to that point, would likely try to control my transition as well. So, for the next two months we made plans."

Harry looked over to Draco and quirked an eyebrow teasingly. "One aspect of those plans was the time ritual that you're so desperate to know about."

Draco sniffed in mock affront. "So tell me, already!"

Harry laughed then answered, "The time ritual would allow me to live in the same time twice without magical repercussions. I could, effectively, go through the day of my sixteenth birthday twice but only transition once. It was perfect. The downside was that it was seriously complicated and required extensive preparation. It took me six and a half months of working nearly every night to prepare and set up everything properly." Harry stopped in confusion at Draco's sigh of relief and looked over at him. "What?"

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it without saying anything. Sighing in consternation, he replied, "When you first mentioned the time ritual I thought that maybe if I had approached you sooner that we could have done the same for me and I wouldn't have to have been absent, making it obvious what I was doing. I'm just selfishly relieved that it wouldn't have made a difference."

"Even if I had done everything right the first time, it still would have taken three months to set up. You would have had to approach me mid-July at the absolute latest."

"Well, good. That makes me feel better. Continue your story," Draco demanded imperiously.

Harry grinned and did as he was bid. "I had to draw perfect runes, pentagrams, and circles on a specially prepared ritual floor. I had to make several complex potions for the floor, the markings, the incense, the offering bowls, for me. I had to do several sets of arithmancy equations - none really difficult but all very tedious - and double and triple check them for accuracy. I had to memorize this really long incantation, although chant would be a much better word. And that was just to get the time jump correct. There was more stuff to protect me magically from paradox."

"But you don't take arithmancy or runes," Draco objected.

"Not at Hogwarts, I don't," Harry agreed, "but Salazar demands I learn them from him, along with several other subjects no longer taught here."

"Really? Like what?" Draco asked curiously.

Harry waved off the question. "Later. When we talk to Salazar again, we can ask him if you may join me in my lessons."

"All right," Draco responded, mollified for the moment. He would be certain to ask again another time, however. His father had once told him about some classes that Hogwarts used to offer but were canceled by Dumbledore (although he'd never checked that information to see if his father was actually telling the truth) and he knew there were classes taught at Durmstrang and Beauxbaton that also weren't taught at Hogwarts.

"Everything had to be complete by the day I wanted to jump back to and I had to jump back no less than three months. I had everything set up by mid-May and I set the jump back anchor point as the first of June," Harry was saying into Draco's musings.

"How?" Draco asked, snapping his attention back to Harry's story.

"By doing the ritual for the first time. Doing it a second time is what brought me back," Harry stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh. So you had at least three extra months of study time before O.W.L.s. That hardly seems fair," Draco complained good-naturedly.

Harry pushed Draco's arm playfully. "Don't worry, I threw them just like I have every other test I've ever taken here."

"You what!" Draco exclaimed, appalled.

"I threw them," Harry replied patiently. "Can you just imagine how much attention I would get if I was a straight O student? No, thank you. I already get more than I've ever wanted with my very average grades."

"I suppose," Draco said doubtfully, "but these are your O.W.L.S. They are important for any future career you may want."

"Maybe. N.E.W.T.s are more important, though, and I can take any and all I want simply by showing up at the door. Even if I've not taken a single class here," Harry stated simply.

"That's true." Draco paused and then smiled wickedly. "May I come with you when you go to those tests for which you've not taken the classes? I'd love to see the look on the teachers' faces! Not to mention Granger's and Weasley's."

Harry laughed. "Sure. Far be it for me to deny anybody some well-deserved humor."

Draco grinned. "Thanks."

"No problem. Anyway, the first time through, well, time, I stayed down here. I had purchased enough food to last me and I already had clothes and toiletries here so there was no problem. On the first of September I did the ritual the second time and jumped back," Harry said, getting back into his tale.

"Why then? Why not stay down here longer than just three months?" Draco interrupted curiously. He would have stayed away longer than that.

"I thought about it. Believe me, it was quite tempting. The ritual has a maximum of one year and I had dreams of what I could do with an uninterrupted year. It takes progressively more and more power, though, the greater number of days you jump back past three months. Even though I was certain I would be getting a decent power boost during transition, I didn't know how much it would be and I wasn't sure what the power drain would be like on the return trip of the second ritual, which is significantly greater than the initial ritual. I didn't feel like having my atoms dispersed into the time-stream because I was overconfident."

Draco grimaced at the image and nodded solemnly. "I see your point."

Harry nodded back with a crooked grin. "So for June first the second time around I simply went back to the tower and continued on my merry way. School finished and my summer progressed. On the evening of July thirtieth I was taken to a safe place by Dumbledore's Order, introduced to my transition partner-to-be, and locked in a warded room without so much as a by-your-leave. But things just didn't work out the way Dumbledore thought they would. A shame, really," Harry clucked with mock sorrow.

"Of course," Draco agreed dryly. Draco was all for anything that disrupted the Headmaster's plans. "How did he react when nothing happened?"

"He questioned me most extensively. Had I felt anything on my birthday? Had I been tired in the last week? Had anything peculiar happened with my magic during the first part of the summer? What about at any other time? How did I feel now? Did I know what had happened? Did I know why nothing seemed to happen? On and on and on," Harry said in remembered exasperation.

"What did you tell him?" Draco asked, curious as to how Harry had handled the Headmaster.

Harry affected an innocent, confused look and, shaking his head, said in a perfect Golden Boy voice, "No, Headmaster. I don't know what happened. Everything's been normal. I haven't seen anybody or done anything! Do you think my transition will happen next year instead?" Harry worried his bottom lip with his teeth, his eyes wide and worried.

Draco stared blankly at Harry for a moment, shocked at the perfect act he had just staged and the difference between it and what Draco now knew as the real Harry. When Harry continued to stare at Draco with those wide, innocent eyes, Draco broke down into uncontrollable giggles.

Harry grinned at the reaction he had produced in his companion and when Draco started to calm down Harry darted a hand under the duvet and gave Draco an experimental tickle. The other boy squealed and immediately went on the offensive, startling Harry enough that he was quickly defending his own ribs. They laughed and mock tussled for several minutes, stopping when Draco was breathless and Harry's sides were sore from Draco's superior skills. Harry was still snickering when he wrapped his arms around Draco, pulling him against his own chest.

"Go to sleep, you vicious monster. You've tired me out," Harry said. It was getting late into the evening and he knew that if he could keep Draco quiet and still that the boy would fall asleep relatively quickly.

"Sleep! But I've still more questions!" Draco protested indignantly, pushing himself away from Harry's chest so he could grace Harry with a glare.

Harry threw out his right arm, grabbed a handful of the disheveled duvet and pulled it back towards himself sharply, flipping it over himself and Draco's now exposed body. Having taken care of their covers, Harry used his right hand to encourage Draco's head back down to his chest. Draco tensed and tried to pull away, finally noticing his state of undress, position, and the firm grip around his waist from Harry's left arm. Draco's breathing quickened and, even as he felt another surge of lust, let out a small sound of slightly panicked protest as he began to struggle.

Harry tightened his hold. "Hush, hush. I'm not going to hurt you. Relax. Relax." Harry continued to murmur soothingly until Draco calmed and was still except for a slight trembling.

"Good, good," Harry praised the other boy and started stroking the fine white hair rhythmically, hoping to calm Draco even further. Several minutes later Draco was mostly relaxed. His hands were still in restless fists between them and he had pressed his nose to Harry's chest, hiding his face, praying that Harry didn't mention the erection Draco hadn't been able to prevent at the skin to skin contact of their chests.

"Now," Harry said softly, "ask your questions."

Harry could feel Draco lick his lips and heard him swallow nervously. "Why…why were Granger and Weasley avoiding you at the beginning of the year? Fifth year. You said…you said earlier…"

"I did," Harry interrupted calmly. "The short answer is because, one, I was purportedly being lackadaisical about my safety considering what had happened at my house over the summer, and two, I, supposedly, gravely insulted Molly Weasley. Of course, both of those are a matter of opinion, ones of which I didn't, and still don't, happen to hold. But the two of them did and after I ignored their ranting about both subjects, they avoided me. Maybe they thought I would feel it was an awful punishment and would come crawling back begging to apologize and make up. I was disappointed that they couldn't hold their resolve to stay away from me for longer than a week."

Draco huffed a small laugh, unconsciously relaxing more into Harry body, his arousal slowly beginning to subside. "What did you do? To Molly Weasley?" He asked, his curiosity overriding his fear. He couldn't wait to hear what Golden Boy Potter had done to upset the matron.

"Because of Voldemort's," Harry stopped abruptly as Draco jerked in his arms. "Sorry. Because of the Dark Lord's return I wasn't allowed to go to Diagon Alley to shop for my school supplies. Supposedly it was too dangerous. Honestly, it's not as if the Alley was going to be attacked, in broad daylight, by a bunch of only recently re-banded Death Eaters and a Dark Lord that was likely still recovering from his resurrection. I was told to give my Gringott's key to Molly Weasley so she could withdraw money from my vault to get my supplies for me. You would have loved her face, and everyone else's for that matter, when I asked for a transaction slip and all receipts. It was hilarious!" Harry laughed at the memory.

Draco joined in the laughter. Turning his face to the side and settling it more comfortably on Harry's chest, he said, "I'm sure I would have."

Harry tugged on a few locks of Draco's hair and continued softly, "She was so flustered that she just agreed and left as quickly as she could. It was totally worth all the grief I got. Ron went ballistic and Hermione gave me a lecture, as usual. Even Dumbledore got in on the action, scolding me for hurting her feelings of all things. I just shrugged and said I was going to spend some time that year making a budget for the rest of my schooling and I wanted to know what was in my account and how much things cost so I could make the best plan possible. He left it alone after that."

"Did you get the slip and receipts?" Draco asked with amusement, relaxing further.

"I did. I did not, however, get back my key," Harry said, tugging again on Draco's hair. "I had to ask for it specifically. From a very red-faced Molly Weasley who wouldn't meet my eyes. I haven't completely decided if that was accidental or deliberate, although I'm leaning towards the latter due to some of the looks I got from Dumbledore."

"What looks? And did you actually do the budget?" Harry noticed that Draco's fists had opened and he seemed a bit more comfortable.

"I did," Harry answered amiably. "I had to throw off suspicion. I even asked him a few weeks later what the tuition cost was for Hogwarts. He seemed pleased with my newfound maturity, as he put it."

Draco snorted. "Of course he was. What do you mean you had to throw off suspicion?"

Harry twirled a lock of white hair with his forefinger. Softly, he answered, "I know a lot more about my accounts at Gringott's than Dumbledore, or anyone, has ever told me. I am completely familiar with my entire estate, as a matter of fact. It was one of the things Salazar insisted on. Salazar helped me get all the information I needed and taught me what I needed to know to manage it with some semblance of competence. I'll never be a stellar estate manager, but I'll be fine overseeing any estate manager I might hire."

Draco nodded against Harry's chest and tentatively wrapped an arm around the other boy's torso. Not being rebuffed, he relaxed even more into Harry's warmth. "How did Salazar help you get your estate information?" Draco asked, quite curious as to what kind of real-world financial help could be provided by a thousand year old painting.

Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair. "You'll have to ask Salazar. That's not my secret to tell," he answered.

Draco nodded again, easily accepting that answer. He had been raised with secrets within secrets, after all, and the knowledge that you kept your mouth shut if a particular secret wasn't yours to speak of.

"So, Weasley and Granger were upset about you asking for a slip and receipts?" Draco asked, returning to the original topic.

"Oh, yes. Immensely," Harry said with wry amusement. "You should have heard them on the train here. Ron took the opportunity to berate me even more soundly for insulting his mum. Hermione, once Ron was finished, went off on a lecture about trusting our elders, especially people who were only trying to help and who knew best, and scolding me for spreading dissension by not showing complete and utter trust in Dumbledore by blatantly and shockingly questioning the integrity one of his chosen Order members. I didn't respond to her, either, which just pissed her off even more and she proceeded to start yet another lecture about not listening to the advice of my friends and being purposely contrary and belligerent. I was happy when they stopped talking to me," Harry admitted.

"You know, they wouldn't have been insulted if they didn't have anything to be insulted for. I agree with you that Dumbledore must have been trying something," Draco said softly, tiredness beginning to tinge his voice.

"I wanted to say the same thing but kept my tongue," Harry said, the smile evident in his voice. Harry stopped for a moment, then said thoughtfully, "The funny thing, though, is that I noticed Fred and George and Remus giving me odd looks. None of them joined in the general free-for-all of let's chastise Harry. Plus, Fred and George were really open with me last year, telling me about their plans for their shop and what else they wanted for their future, things I know they've never told their own family. That could be because I gave them the starter money for their shop but I wonder if they have suspicions of their own about the real me. Plus, there's some other stuff between us that I'm sure have added to their suspicions."

"It is possible," Draco agreed thoughtfully, rubbing his thumb absently along Harry's side. "Twins and magical creatures are much less susceptible to deception or deceptive magic, similar to the more powerful wizards and witches, although that raises the question of how, or even if, you fooled Dumbledore. I don't recommend approaching them, however, unless you are absolutely certain of their allegiances. Or lack thereof, as the case may be. What do you think Dumbledore was trying to do? Steal?" Draco said slowly, the call of sleep becoming more and more evident in his voice as he spoke.

"I won't. Still, I wonder. And no, I don't think he was trying to steal. I think he just wanted to control my spending habits a bit more. I ordered a bunch of stuff by owl order when I was first fetched that summer; nearly a thousand galleons worth of different things. Despite the fact that nothing I ordered was extravagant or useless, I think he might have been worried that I was going to start buying my way through life, or something," Harry said agreeably. He could feel Draco slowly falling asleep against him.

"Hmm. Maybe. Why were you so blasé about your safety? That woman, what was her name, Um-something, sent Dementors after you with orders to kiss you. That's really serious," Draco said sleepily.

"I was never in any danger from the Dementors," Harry disagreed. "I can cast a Patronus, remember. Plus, the wards around my house kept them out, which is where I was, thankfully. Who knows what would have happened if I had been outside and needed to cast a Patronus. Ask me about it again tomorrow if you want."

"All right," Draco agreed, slipping into sleep quickly, still tired from his transition.

Quietly, Harry continued petting the other boy, wondering why Draco was so nervous about being intimate. Was the concept of lying with a man that frightening for him? Harry hoped not; he didn't think he'd be able to completely contain his desire, magic-induced and otherwise, for the other boy much longer. He'd ask before he advanced to any intimate caressing. Harry closed his eyes, letting the amusing picture of Draco stuttering through a conversation about sex lull him into sleep.

Chapter 7 - Tuesday, 15 October 1996

Draco woke slowly, unwilling to relinquish the perfect comfort and warmth he was experiencing. Eventually it penetrated that he was laying against Harry with one of Harry's arms about his waist and the other bent with the hand wrapped lightly about Draco's left forearm. Draco looked at the contrasting flesh analytically. They both had the same base olive skin tone, but Harry was several shades darker. Draco decided he liked it.

Draco also noticed that Harry's fingers were actually long and elegant, something he hadn't expected. Even so, Harry's hands were far larger than his own and that he had expected. Draco knew he was small boned. He might look like his father but his bone structure came directly from his delicate looking mother. Sometimes it bothered him and sometimes he lorded his looks over others. He wondered what Harry thought, if he found Draco attractive.

Becoming aware of the increasing insistence of his bladder, Draco decided to leave Harry to his sleep and attempt to venture to the bathroom on his own. Disentangling himself, he sat up slowly. When he felt no head-rush he stood, also slowly. Evaluating himself again, Draco nodded in satisfaction and walked carefully to the bathroom. Relieving himself with no difficulties, Draco once again thanked the gods that Harry had somehow known the spells used at St. Mungo's on patients who were not able to visit a bathroom on their own. He couldn't imagine the embarrassment he would have felt if Harry actually had had to assist him relieve himself.

In fact, Draco was rather thankful that he was actually up and about today at all; he hadn't expected to be able to stand on his own, much less walk, until Wednesday. He'd known Harry's massages were helping but he hadn't realized just how much. Maybe he should mention it?

He stepped over to the mirror, looked himself over, and promptly grimaced. Merlin, he was a mess! His hair was everywhere! Draco contemplated whether it would be safe to take a shower. He felt rather spry, considering, but certainly not up to his normal self. He decided it would likely be safe enough if he sat down and walked to the shower and turned on and adjusted the water before stepping in. Using the shower wall to steady himself, Draco sat on the shower floor, hoping it was clean, and let the warm spray wash away the last three days.

It wasn't as if Harry had left Draco swimming in his own sweat over the last couple days. He hadn't. Harry had washed Draco twice, actually. He had been utterly mortified as Harry wiped him down with a warm cloth all over. Draco had protested vehemently, well, as vehemently as he could while still exhausted, but Harry had simply said "That's nice." and continued his ministrations. Draco had also tried to fight him off but had not been anywhere near strong enough to be even close to halfway effective and thus Harry had had his way with little trouble. Draco was extremely glad he was strong enough this morning to wash himself. Harry hadn't taken any liberties, but still. Noticing bottles of shampoo and liquid soap on the floor in the corner, Draco got to work putting himself to rights.

An hour later Draco had finished his shower, dried himself off, and combed his hair. He was tired now but felt infinitely better. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went to see if he could find something to wear. Stepping through the door, he was surprised to find Harry once again sitting at the small desk, writing. Draco wondered who he was writing to so extensively. "I'm sorry if I woke you," Draco said.

"You didn't. I was awake before you. Once you were in the shower I got up and changed the bedsheets. Do you think you've enough energy to sit up at the table to eat breakfast? Or would you rather go back to bed for a few hours and eat later?" Harry spoke calmly but Draco could see the concern, for him, in Harry's eyes as the other boy looked him over critically, judging his well-being.

"Breakfast. A small one, though. And how do you know you were awake before me? I was awake for a bit before I got up," Draco said a bit petulantly.

Harry answered him casually as he went to the food box to choose breakfast, "I could feel you. In my head. I could tell that you were asleep and I could tell when you started waking and I could tell when you were fully awake. I've been able to tell since the first day. How about mixed fruit?"

Draco blinked in surprise at this unexpected revelation. He couldn't tell those things about Harry. Then again, he was recovering from physical and magical exhaustion. Likely he wouldn't have been aware enough to tell even if it was an ability he now possessed due to the bond. He'd have to pay attention the next few days. "Fruit is fine," he answered absently.

Harry walked towards Draco holding a medium sized bowl in his right hand. When he met up with Draco he placed his left arm around the other boy's waist and led him gently to the table, seating him after placing the bowl on the table. Draco blinked, taking in his new position in mild surprise. He must be more tired than he thought; maybe he should have gone to bed instead.

A small plate of fruit appeared in front of him on the table and Draco stared at it blankly for a moment before realizing what it was and picking up a fork to stab a plump blackberry. He definitely should have opted for bed, Draco decided, as he utilized nearly his entire concentration to eat a dozen or so berries and a couple pieces of melon. He was going to eat a grape, but when his attempt to spear it with his fork resulted in it skittering to the opposite end of the plate, Draco figured he'd had enough and put down his utensil. He didn't remember getting to bed.

The first thing Draco noticed when he woke next was the incessant scrabbling of quill on parchment. "What in Merlin's name is he writing now? It can't be for more books."

"Harry," Draco called softly, opening his eyes.

"Hey," Harry replied from beside him, just as softly. "Feeling better?"

Draco sat up cautiously and gave himself a mental checkup. Nodding, Draco turned to the boy sitting next to him and said, "Yes. Much better, thank you." Tilting his head slightly to one side, Draco asked, "What are you writing now? You can't be sending for more books?"

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "No," he said, "I charmed the quill to write out a bunch of invitations." Harry gestured to the desk on the opposite wall and Draco flushed, noticing now that the sound of writing hadn't stopped and that Harry was sitting here and not there.

Harry chuckled again. "Since you're awake, you can tell me who they need to go to. Just hold on a minute while I get some envelopes and a quill," Harry added, putting aside his book.

Draco sat up and watched as Harry left the bed and fetched a bag with the store logo of Scrivener's, a rather small but very upscale stationery shop; it was where Draco got his supplies from instead of the common store Scribbulus Everchanging Inks. He was surprised Harry knew of it. Draco's eyes widened as the importance of Harry's words finally impacted. "Invitations?"

Harry smiled brightly at Draco's shock and climbed back onto the bed with the bag and once again got comfortable. Pulling various items out of the bag, Harry answered, "Yes, of course. Invitations. They're for your Presentation."

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. When he had decided upon Harry for his partner, he was certain that he was going to be giving up his Presentation. As it was a wizarding tradition, for those that had been Gifted during transition, and the last one had been nearly ten years ago, Draco had figured that Harry wouldn't know of it. He had felt sad at the sacrifice but knew he wouldn't regret it. There was no doubt that having a partner of his choice outweighed a traditional Presentation. Now, his Presentation was being given back to him.

"I…Thank you, Harry," Draco said softly, not fully able to hide just how much this meant to him.

Harry smiled gently at Draco, glad he could give this to the other boy as it seemed so important to him. "You're welcome," Harry said just as softly.

"Now," Harry said smartly, "time to get down to business. I've already addressed the envelopes to all the upper year students, the professors, your parents, and the other known living Gifted of Europe and their transition guardians. I need you to tell me who else I need to invite. I imagine there are a whole slew of people given your position in society." Harry arranged a stack of envelopes on top of the book he had been reading earlier, grabbed a quill, and looked at Draco expectantly.

Draco stared back at Harry, surprised again at Harry's knowledge of Presentation traditions and his obvious industry during Draco's most recent nap. Draco reached out a hand and ran his fingers over the top envelope. "This is really nice stationery, Harry."

"Yes. I wanted it to be worthy of you. Do you like it?" Harry asked nervously. The stationery was top quality but it wasn't very fancy; it was a simple mottled dark cream color. It was similar to the stationery Draco had used in his letter to Harry.

"Yes," Draco answered, running his fingers again over the smooth surface of the top envelope. "Harry," Draco started tentatively, "I don't mean to be rude or anything…"

"But you're wondering how I can afford this since I don't have access to my estate until next year," Harry interrupted, not offended in the slightest. He knew the image he projected during the school year.

Draco flushed and nodded, keeping his eyes on the envelopes. They were lovely, but they must have cost a galleon a piece. And on top of all the books…

Harry tickled Draco's chin with the feather end of a quill until he looked up into Harry's very amused eyes. "Tell me, Draco," Harry said teasingly, "how much do you think a milliliter of basilisk's venom goes for in Knockturn Alley?"

Draco raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Basilisk venom?"

Harry tapped Draco with the feather a couple times on his nose, delighting in the way it made Draco scrunch up his face. "Why, yes," Harry replied with a mock air of propriety, "basilisk venom."

Draco shook his head wordlessly, bemused at Harry's teasing. "I've no idea, Harry. I imagine quite a bit, though."

Grinning smugly, Harry nodded and informed his companion, "Most definitely. About one hundred galleons per milliliter."

"That is quite a hefty price," Draco agreed, slightly surprised. "This is relevant, how?"

"I," Harry said smugly, tapping the feather now against his own lips, "have access to about four liters of basilisk venom. Give or take."

Draco's eyes widened in shock. "Four liters?" he exclaimed. That was four hundred thousand galleons. Give or take.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "So rest assured that I can easily afford a few invitations."

"I guess so," Draco muttered, still amazed. Shaking his head, Draco set his mind to the task at hand. "You'll need to add the parents of all my Slytherin year-mates as well as some other parents, the extended Malfoy clan, some ministry officials, some ambassadors, other important people and members of high society. I imagine a couple hundred people in total. Do you have enough envelopes?" Draco asked, looking doubtfully at the stack.

In response, Harry simply reached back into the bag and pulled out seven more sets of envelopes. Draco nodded and started reciting names and addresses.

Four hours, a light lunch, and over two hundred invitations later Draco was ready for another nap.

All envelopes had been addressed and two copies made of the guest list; one for Draco to keep and another to send to the Headmaster to inform him of who would be guesting at the castle come Saturday evening. All the envelopes had then been stuffed with an elegantly penned invitation, and placed in a magical out-box that Harry said was connected to a mail service in Hogsmeade.

Draco had also found out, much to his pleasant surprise, that Harry's penmanship in his Hogwarts schoolwork was now faked. Harry had told him ruefully that that hadn't always been the case. When Salazar had seen Harry's "pathetic attempts at butchering the beautiful alphabet" he had demanded Harry learn to write properly before teaching him anything else. Countless hours of practice drills had ingrained into Harry a beautiful style of handwriting that rivaled Draco's own.

Harry had been surprised at some of the people Draco knew well, or knew well enough, to invite to his Presentation. Harry hadn't made any sarcastic comments, though; he had simply addressed each envelope as directed. He had even penned an additional special invitation for Severus Snape without complaint, although not without a query. Draco had then revealed to Harry the depth of his relationship with his godfather and the simple deception Severus had carried out on Draco's behalf. By the time he had finished his story, Harry had been darkly amused and admiring of the man's cunning.

Draco held his godfather's invitation in his hands, waiting for Harry to finish writing the special private delivery instructions to his mail service. Draco stared a bit sadly at the golden writing proclaiming Severus Shelley Snape, Master of Potions, Master of Magical Defense, Professor, Head of Slytherin House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Golden writing was for parents and siblings; everyone else's invitations were written in silver ink. He loved his godfather like a true father, oceans beyond what he felt for his sire, and was glad to be sending this invitation; it was a mark of the true bond between them. Still, he was saddened that his own sire didn't care for him beyond being an heir and upholding the family name and also saddened that he couldn't publicly acknowledge Severus as the father of his heart.

Harry tapped Draco's arm, silently holding out his hand for the last remaining invitation. Draco handed it over and watched Harry seal it inside another envelope and then inside a larger red envelope and place it in the charmed out-box. Moments later, the envelope disappeared.

"He'll get the gold one tomorrow night, barring unforeseen circumstances. He'll get the silver one tomorrow morning with everyone else," Harry said, not commenting on Draco's expression. He could guess what it was from and knew there was nothing he could say that would take away the pain.

Draco nodded silently, drained from the activity of the past few hours.

"Let's take a nap," Harry said, pulling an unresisting Draco down to the bed with him.

Draco merely let out a small sound of acquiescence and let Harry snuggle him in. He fell asleep quickly to the feel of Harry's hand stroking his hair.

After their nap and a moderate supper, Harry had plonked a very heavy book in Draco's lap and bid him look at the pretty pictures. Draco had been somewhat offended until Harry had explained that, in his opinion, Draco would have an intuitive grasp of the human body due to his Gift and should start out focusing more on what went where and how it connected rather than on what everything was called. Hence, only looking at the pictures.

Draco had considered the idea, then shrugged and complied. He couldn't think of a very good counter-argument and Harry was there to guide him in the expression of his Gift. Now, an hour later, Draco rather thought that Harry was right. Draco was fascinated with all the different pieces of the body; bones, muscles, tendons, nerves, organs, blood vessels all interconnected in a detail he had never seen in the wizarding texts he had read previously. A tap on his shoulder brought his attention to his smiling companion.

"Hey, there. How's the book?" Harry asked.

"It's absolutely fascinating. I had no idea that the body had so much stuff in it," Draco replied with his own smile.

"Good. I'm glad. Are you up to trying an experiment?" Harry asked.

"Sure. What did you have in mind?" Draco asked curiously.

"Find the page on muscles in the chest," Harry said, lying down next to Draco.

Draco cocked an eyebrow in question but nodded and found the appropriate page. He turned back to Harry with an expectant look.

"I want you to put your hand on my chest and see if you can feel, with your Gift, the different muscles in my chest," Harry said encouragingly. "Use the book as a guide."

Draco raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, thinking, then nodded. That was an interesting idea. His body agreed as another frisson of lust flared through him.

Another hour later, this time spent in becoming acquainted with the magical feel of the muscles and bones in Harry's arms and torso, and Draco was ready to stop for the night. He was tired from the utilization of his new magics as well as still recovering somewhat from the physical exertions of transition.

"Do you mind if I go back to reading, Harry," Draco asked, rubbing lightly between his eyes.

"Of course not," Harry answered. "Do you think you would be all right if I left for a couple hours to pick up something? Or would you rather I stay?"

Draco looked alarmed for a moment and then tried to calm himself. Really, he was going to be reading! What did it matter if Harry was gone for a couple hours?

"Right," Harry said. "I'll stay."

Draco flushed lightly in embarrassment. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Don't be," Harry said firmly. "I'm happy to stay here with you. There are lots of other things I can do and I can go tomorrow or the next day with no problem. All right?"

Draco nodded, relieved. "Must be the bond," he thought. "It must still need close proximity." Draco smiled a moment later. Their bond must be quite strong if it was complaining about the mere mention of distance at the end of day four. By this time, Harry should have easily been able to leave for a couple hours.

Draco got comfortable and tried to engross himself once more in Gray's Anatomy as Harry went back to the desk to do who knows what. Unfortunately, Harry's earlier question seemed to have jangled his nerves quite well and he couldn't keep from looking up every couple minutes to reassure himself that Harry was still nearby. Harry's voice caught him off-guard.

"Would you like me to sit next to you? We could talk…," Harry offered. He'd given Draco half an hour to calm down from his momentary panic, which, he could tell from the bond, hadn't happened, before addressing the other boy's agitated state directly.

Draco flushed in embarrassment but nodded anyway. He realized, just as Harry likely had, that the bond wasn't going to settle without extended physical contact. Draco consoled himself with the thought that it was the bond and not himself that was so needy. Really.

Draco watched as Harry put away whatever he had been working on then crawled onto the bed and arranged his customary stack of pillows. Draco didn't bother to hide his relief when Harry got comfortable and scooted his near leg out to lie alongside Draco's. It wasn't skin to skin, Harry being dressed in sleep pants as well as on top of the covers, but it was good enough and he immediately felt his nerves start to calm.

"So, what were you working on?" Draco asked curiously, trying very hard not to let the unmitigated relief show in his voice. "You're practically always at that desk."

"This week's homework. The teachers are going to be mad enough that I missed classes without prior authorization. I thought I'd have a bit of a peace offering when we got back," Harry admitted with a small grimace.

Draco gave a small laugh. "True. If nothing else they'll be shocked you did it at all without Granger to pester you."

Harry grinned.

"What's your favorite subject?" Draco asked, tilting his head to gaze at Harry more easily. "Everyone thinks it's Defense but I'm not so sure. You seem more driven in that class than really interested for its own sake."

Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. Although, honestly, given that Draco had Harry's moods correlated to his morning condiments he probably shouldn't be so shocked that Draco had figured out this little tidbit. "Arithmancy," he answered with a small smile. "Followed closely by Rituals. Yours?"

"Rituals? Really? That's…that's…" Draco said in shock.

"Not taught here. Yes, I know. Yours?" Harry asked again with an impish grin.

Draco snorted. "Prat. I was going to say something more like fascinating or perhaps advanced. And my favorite subject is, well, uh, Healing, actually." Draco smirked at Harry's chuckle.

"Also not taught here," Harry interjected dryly.

"Well, yes," Draco agreed with amusement. Giving Harry a sly look, he added, "Continuing with the theme of favorite subjects we're not learning from Hogwarts' faculty, I also really like being an animagus."

"What!" Harry sat up straight in shock and started at Draco in open-mouthed amazement.

Smirking smugly, Draco stated proudly, "Finished the training this past summer."

Harry blinked and snapped his mouth shut, then grinned. "Wow. That's amazing! Congratulations! What's your form?"

"What's yours?" Draco countered, not quite ready to give up that secret without something in return.

Harry's lips twitched. To Draco's astonishment Harry started to laugh. Loudly.

"What?" Draco demanded peevishly. Becoming an animagus was a great accomplishment! It should not be laughed at! He couldn't believe he'd just shared one of his greatest achievements with Harry and Harry was laughing at him!

Under Draco's glare, Harry's laughter died down and in between several uncontrolled snickers he managed to get out, "I'm sorry. It's just…just…you win!" Harry laughed again, though it was a slight bit more subdued.

"What do you mean I win? I win what?" Draco asked, annoyed and hurt.

Harry quieted and shook his head with a smile on his face. "I don't have a form. Or, I guess I should say, I've not trained to attain my form. I'm not an animagus."

"You're not!" Draco asked, forgetting his anger and hurt, truly stunned that Harry wasn't an animagus. "But…your father…your godfather…"

"I thought that was a secret?" Harry asked wryly.

Looking abashed at his slip, Draco said, "Severus told me. You're really not an animagus? I would have thought…"

"Nope."

Draco slowly started to smile then started laughing himself. "I win!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, smiling back. "One hundred fifty points to Slytherin." Giving Draco time to bask in his glory, Harry asked again, "So what is your form? Will you tell me?"

Still snickering, Draco answered proudly, "A cat. A Siamese, to be exact."

"Ah. How appropriate. Finicky…," Harry nodded with an air of authority.

"Discriminating…," Draco countered.

"Nosy…," Harry added with a tut-tut.

"Curious…," Draco alleged.

"Snobbish…," Harry shook his head sadly.

"Regal…," Draco countered with a sniff and his nose in the air.

"Demanding attention all the time," Harry said insistently.

Draco was quiet a moment. "Well, yes. But, really, there's nothing wrong with that."

Harry laughed again and then leaned in towards Draco, their faces only inches apart as he breathed, "No, I suppose not."

Draco swallowed down the spike of lust from Harry's nearness and asked stutteringly, "So, you said you'd tell me about those Dementors."

Harry jerked back sharply. "Well, that was an effective mood killer," he said crossly.

Draco cleared his throat nervously, "Yes, well."

Glaring at his bed companion, Harry huffed back against his pile of pillows. Annoyed, he sighed and said, "Fine. What did you want to know?"

"I don't know," Draco said softly, upset at having angered Harry. He could feel the aggravation across the bond to his guardian. "How come they were outside your house for two hours? Why didn't they come in? There aren't any wards against Dementors that I know. Didn't you notice them? Didn't your relatives?"

Glancing at Draco, feeling his distress, Harry took the other boy's hand and started idly tracing the back of the long slender pale fingers, trying to calm and reassure. "They were outside for two hours because the idiot supposedly guarding me had fallen into a drunken stupor and their presence wasn't reported until the next guard arrived. Dumbledore claims they didn't get in because of the blood wards on the property. He's lying through his teeth, though. There is a ward against Dementors and I know it's on that house because I've seen the runes; my guess is that it's probably illegal, so he falls back on the blood ward explanation. I didn't notice them because I was, officially, asleep. And, yes," Harry finished with an evil smirk, "my relatives did notice them. They were cowering in the living room the whole time, afraid to go outside to the car and leave in case they were attacked. Too bad, really."

Draco looked over, shocked. "They could have been kissed!"

Harry shrugged. "It wouldn't have been any skin off my nose, I assure you."

"Wow. There really is no love lost between you, is there?" Draco asked, stunned.

"Not any at all," Harry affirmed.

"Then why do you stay with them?" Draco asked in confusion. "If they're that bad any blood wards would only be passably effective at best."

Harry nodded and moved his idle tracings to the back of Draco's hand, pleased with the shiver his attentions caused. "True. From what I've been able to determine from my study of the wards at that house, the blood wards never really set. They were placed. They were activated. But, as far as I can tell, they never anchored. It's quite conclusive proof that at least Petunia never ever once cared for me at all and most likely hated me on sight, which is what she's always claimed. I stay there because, despite my pleas and protests, Dumbledore continues to believe that I'm safest there and that my relatives really do love me." Harry snorted in disgust, then again in amusement when Draco also snorted in disgust.

"I've not been able to completely determine if he really believes that or if he's just lazy and doesn't want to so thoroughly ward another place for me to stay." Harry sighed and added, "Most of the time I truly believe it's the former, even if it means that he's a daft idiot for dismissing my claims of a rotten home life and for never checking the state of his wards, presuming he was the one who set them, which, he may not be, I grant."

"Hmmm," Draco replied, keeping his negative thoughts about the headmaster's sanity to himself. Staring at the fingers that had progressed to caressing his forearm, Draco asked suddenly, "Will you show me that Dementor ward? Severus has trained me in entrance wards; I'd like to learn how to cast it."

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Better check first to see if it's legal, though."

"All right," Draco agreed, suppressing a shiver from the caresses. A minute later he asked abruptly, "What happened to that woman? And what do you mean officially asleep?" Turning to look at Harry, perplexed. "Weren't you? And even if you were, what does that matter?"

It was Harry's turn to look slightly abashed. "I've got a compartment trunk. I was actually inside it when the Dementors were there; their effects can't pass through wizard-spaced objects. I wasn't about to inform anyone of that, though, so I said I was asleep. The only effect a Dementor has on someone unconscious is the chill from the air. Why else do you think it takes years for prisoners to go insane instead of days or weeks?"

Draco looked flummoxed. "Oh. I didn't know that."

Harry shrugged and continued to caress the pale arm in his hold. "Not many do. Nobody suspected anything; they probably figured I didn't know enough about Dementors to lie effectively."

"And the woman?" Draco pressed.

"Umbridge?" Harry asked distractedly, examining the feeling of the fine hairs on Draco's forearm.

"Yes, her," Draco replied, using every ounce of self-control to swallow his lust and remain still. "I remember The Prophet was slandering you until they found out about her, but they never printed what happened to her. Do you know?"

Harry snorted in disgust and said, "She's in Azkaban right now. For treason. It's ironic since that is what she claimed as to why she sent those things after me in the first place. "Spreading lies to incite the public against the <inistry" blah blah blah. Too bad under Veritaserum she admitted it was because Fudge had been complaining that if Voldemort was back it would ruin his image and wouldn't it be for the best if I retracted my statement and kept my mouth shut?"

"Good, she deserves it," Draco stated then added thoughtfully, "It was probably a good thing she did that."

Harry stopped his idle movements along Draco's arm and stared in disbelief. "What? Why would you say that?"

Cocking his head and looking steadily at Harry, Draco answered, "The Prophet had been printing stories about you being crazy and saying your claims about the Dark Lord's return were just the rantings of a spoiled kid trying to get attention. And of course, everyone ate that right up. I don't doubt that fifth year would have been a lot more miserable for you if that nonsense had continued. But when the story hit about the Dementors people did an abrupt about-face and you were once again the intrepid hero in the face of insurmountable obstacles.

"Morons," Harry stated with a grimace. Merlin, he hated that newspaper.

Draco gave a short laugh. "Yes. Too bad, though, that Fudge didn't follow their lead until after that attack at the Ministry."

Harry shrugged again and resumed his exploration of Draco's arm hairs. He was not concerned about the Minister's competence. And that attack had been a good thing for Harry. Voldemort had successfully retrieved the prophecy orb that concerned the two of them and Dumbledore had decided, finally, to share the prophecy with Harry. The old man had told Harry that if Voldemort knew it then Harry deserved to know it. In Harry's opinion, it had been at least four years late, but at least he knew it now.

"And it got you away from those muggles, I bet. That could only have been a good thing," Draco said. He was surprised when Harry laughed bitterly.

"Sure it did. Four days later. I would have preferred they left me there. I had my trunk. I had a time turner. I was perfectly happy to stay away from all the annoyances of my life," Harry said disdainfully.

Draco looked at Harry in alarm. "I stepped on another nerve, didn't I?" he asked softly.

Harry glanced at the boy looking at him in wide-eyed nervousness and nodded. "You're pretty good at that."

Draco winced. "Sorry."

"That's all right," Harry said. "I've got a lot of nerves," he added ruefully.

Draco snorted a surprised laugh and smiled, recognizing that Harry wasn't angry about Draco's inquisitiveness, just about the situation his question had brought to the forefront of Harry's memory. Draco snuggled back into his pillows and boldly reversed their hand positions, taking Harry's hand and starting his own explorations.

Bemused at Draco's sudden daring, Harry asked, "Would you like to know about my summers?"

Draco nodded. "Yes. Tell me about the time-turner?" he asked curiously, "Is that how you study with Salazar without anyone noticing? How much time have you turned?"

Harry laughed and snuggled into his own pillows. "I shouldn't have mentioned the time-turner. Salazar will surely scold me for letting that slip. Ah, well. Salazar lets me use his time-turners as long as I'm responsible. For lessons, it's the hourly one, for the weekends it's the daily one, and for the summers it's the weekly one."

Draco looked up in astonishment. "He has three. Wow," he added weakly.

Harry snickered and flipped the blanket over himself. "Yes. For the last three summers I've taken the weekly time-turner with me for the holidays. I live a week at the Dursley's, usually studying and practicing whatever it is that Salazar has assigned me, then time-turn back a week and go somewhere else. Repeat. Repeat. The fiasco with the Dementors lost me two normal weeks of uninterrupted study and practice time and nearly cost me two time-turned weeks of my real holidays because I was no longer alone. I still got my time-turned weeks but it was a major hassle because of having to avoid everyone and find an isolated spot where I could activate the time-turner safely."

"Annoying," Draco said sympathetically, continuing his stroking of Harry's hand. Hopefully this would encourage Harry to continue talking.

"Yes," Harry replied. He did his best to hide his smirk. He knew what Draco was trying to do. He would never have guessed that Draco liked listening to stories.

"The first regular week of my summers I spend doing my shoddy homework for school and convincing the Dursley's that letting me out of my room would be hazardous to their normal life," Harry started to explain. "Although," he added thoughtfully, "I didn't have to do that this last summer. It was probably because they remembered about the Dementors from the summer before. Another positive benefit, I suppose."

"Wait. What do you mean? They keep you in your room?" Draco asked in incredulity.

"Yes. Don't worry," he added, seeing Draco's concern, "It's easier for me that way and I can get out whenever I want without them realizing."

Draco nodded doubtfully but resumed his attentions to Harry's hand. "How do you convince them?" he asked encouragingly.

Harry grinned and said matter-of-factly and with a great deal of amusement, "I terrorize them."

"What?" Draco laughed.

"Well, for the summer between third and fourth years, I told them that Sirius Black was my godfather and that he was looking for me so I had to stay inside and stay hidden. If he saw me, either outside or through the windows, he would probably attack. And, heaven knows, having escaped prison a year ago he probably had gathered a bunch of wizard thugs to help him," Harry said sincerely, keeping his laughter in check. Draco wasn't so reserved as he started chuckling.

"The next summer I told them that Voldemort…sorry…was back and had already gathered back his group of big bad wizards and they were already looking for me and my family." Harry smiled as Draco's chuckles grew louder. "Last summer I would have used the attack at the Ministry except that I didn't even need to say anything before they banished me to my room. Not that I'm complaining."

"That's awful," Draco said, laughing.

Harry laughed back. "It was Salazar's suggestion," he said.

"It's perfect," Draco said. "Perfect. Might as well use their fears against them."

"I agree," Harry said with satisfaction. "Especially since they've never treated me decently. They barely give me any food over the summer, not that they did before and not that I would eat it now I've got options, and constantly hurl abuse through the bedroom door."

"What?" Draco said in not-quite-disbelief. "They're too cowardly to say anything to your face?"

"Well, I have to be reminded about my general uselessness and my ungratefulness for their ever so much excessive generosity, don't I? But they can't risk me getting out and actually endangering their normal respectable family, now can they?" Harry replied with derision.

Draco snorted. "No, I suppose not."

"Anyway," Harry continued, "I don't hear them all that often since I'm usually in my trunk. The only time I'm in the room is when it's Moody's turn to guard because he can see through walls with that eye of his. Not that it matters. I've got all those speeches memorized. The Dursley's are bloody unimaginative, they are." This last was said with an amused contempt.

Draco shook his head. He couldn't believe the things he was learning about Harry's muggle home life. "What do you do with your time-turned weeks? Where do you go?" Hopefully his questions would have a more pleasant answer. He liked his stories to be a bit more upbeat than neglectful relatives.

"Different places," Harry said waving his right hand about. "My first summer I spent almost exclusively in France. The next summer I spent with a wizard that I had been introduced to the previous summer exploring Europe and the Mediterranean." Harry looked sidelong at Draco and added, "He's a historian and showed me around all the magical sites. He taught me more about history in two months than is ever taught here in all seven years. He was also my teacher for other things."

Draco started at that statement and blushed lightly. He said nothing and instead kept his hand from trembling as it stroked patterns on Harry's skin.

"Last summer I spent with a wizarding youth group from France on a world tour. We spent a week or two on each non-European continent visiting magical sites. We had a great time and learned a lot," Harry said, remembering.

"And were they equally…accommodating?" Draco asked, unsure if he should feel annoyed or grateful at Harry's experience.

Harry darted a look at Draco, unable to determine if the other boy was feeling jealous or just unsettled, and answered truthfully, "Some of them were, yes. We all knew it was just a summer fling, though. Noone expected more than that and we all parted amicably. I write to a couple of them, sometimes, but there's only friendship there, nothing more."

Draco nodded silently.

"None of them are a threat to you," Harry offered quietly.

"I didn't…" Draco started indignantly only to be interrupted.

"None of them are a threat to you," Harry stated more firmly. He turned to Draco and cupped his face with his unoccupied right hand and stared into his eyes, willing Draco to believe him.

"I wasn't jealous," Draco said petulantly.

Harry smiled and said, "Of course not. But just so you know."

Draco grumbled and looked away, slightly embarrassed to be caught out. He returned his focus to Harry's hand and ignored Harry's knowing look.

Harry simply kept quiet and focused on sending reassurance and commitment through the bond to Draco. Maybe if they were quiet a while Draco would fall asleep; it was nearing nine o'clock, the latest Draco had managed to stay awake since his transition.

Several minutes passed quietly as Draco continued his explorations. Harry could feel the other boy's curiosity rise and patiently waited for the moment when Draco could no longer hold back his questions. He was making bets with himself that Draco wouldn't make ten minutes. He amusedly resigned himself to a lifetime of attempting to satisfy and/or curb and/or focus the curiosity of Siamese cat when he won his bet at six minutes.

"How much time have you turned? How old are you physically?" Draco asked quietly. He'd been itching to ask that question ever since he'd heard of the time turners.

"A lot," Harry said, wondering what Draco would make of his answer. "There are my lessons with Salazar when I'm here at Hogwarts at four hours three times a week plus all weekend every weekend. Plus two summers doubled and one summer tripled. I'm about seventeen and a half physically."

Draco looked at Harry consideringly, "You're wearing a glamour to hide the aging, aren't you? I mean, you don't look any different than I would expect for being seventeen instead of sixteen."

Harry's nodded, "Yes. I've no interest in curtailing my activities so there's no sense in advertising that something is up by looking older than I should."

"Will you drop it?" Draco asked abruptly.

"The glamour?" Harry asked. When Draco nodded, Harry asked, "For you or for everyone?"

Draco blinked. "Well, both, I suppose. Though, I meant just for me," he said, once again turning his attention to Harry's hand. Now, though, he took his pleasure in simply holding it.

Harry regarded Draco solemnly for several moments, eventually catching Draco's now concerned attention.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Draco said softly. "I was just curious. You don't have to."

"Maybe I'll drop it for you sometime," Harry said slowly in reply, reluctance swimming in his voice. "Completely. Maybe not. I have…layers…to my glamour." Continuing more briskly, Harry added, "At any rate, Saturday, before the Presentation, I'll drop the parts that hide my age and body development. I'll need to present a strong front to all the predators."

Draco chuckled. "True. Though," he added a bit resentfully, "you'll probably scare half of them simply by being there Presenting a Death Eater's child."

Harry turned his face to Draco and raised an eyebrow.

A white eyebrow was raised in response.

"Boo!" Harry exclaimed, startling Draco and making him jump.

Both of them laughed, imaging the reaction of the audience should Harry do the same thing at the Presentation.

Their laughter became chuckles and then a companionable silence. They sat peacefully in their own musings, comfortable in each other's presence, not needing conversation to fill the quiet. As Harry had anticipated, Draco soon fell asleep. An hour later, Harry joined him.

Chapter 8 - Interlude - Severus Snape

Friday, 11 October

Severus watched his son interacting with his housemates at the Slytherin table, proud of the boy's performance this past week. Draco had not let any hint show of the tiredness he must have been feeling all week and especially today as his transition approached. After their conversation on the first day of school, neither he nor Draco had brought up the subject of Draco's transition again. It was simply too dangerous for them both.

Walking back to his quarters after supper, Severus wondered whom his son had chosen as a transition partner. He had to admit to himself that he had no idea whom Draco would have chosen. The only thing he was sure of was that it wasn't Pansy. Severus would watch the student population tomorrow; if it was a student here at Hogwarts, Severus should be able to figure out whom fairly quickly.

Severus puttered around in his rooms for several hours, rearranging his furniture and tapestries and books; tasks he had put in the category of "when he had time." Knowing he would never be able to concentrate this night for his worry for Draco, Severus threw himself into the relatively mindless labor. By the time he was finished it was nearing eleven o'clock. Pouring himself a brandy, Severus sat in his favorite chair and watched the fire while taking an occasional sip. He was startled out of his reverie an hour later when his clock began to strike midnight.

"Good luck, my son," he whispered, and took himself to bed.

Saturday, 12 October

"First and second year snakes all accounted for, though I doubt Draco would have asked one of them anyway. Ah, there's Anthony and Pansy's clique. Fourth and sixth year snakes accounted for," Severus thought to himself as he watched the students trickle in for breakfast and tallied heads.

Turning to the Ravenclaw table, Severus quickly eliminated all fifth and seventh year ravens from his mental list; they were all at their house table busy studying for their respective end-of-year tests, and probably had been for the last hour, despite the fact that it was only October. A perusal of Hufflepuff surprisingly let him eliminate the first, second, third, and sixth years. A glance at Gryffindor revealed a mostly empty table. "Lazy imbeciles," he groused to himself uncharitably, completely ignoring that breakfast had only just started and would continue for another hour.

Just before leaving the staff table at his normal time, Severus was able to eliminate the remainder of his snakes, as he had expected, the sixth year ravens, the fourth year badgers and the first, second, and third year lions. He would have to wait until lunch to make additional eliminations.

But lunch found Severus cursing his way back to his quarters. It was a nice day outside, evidently, not that he cared in the slightest, and most of the students had opted to eat outside. He would have to wait until supper.

At supper a cranky Severus stabbed a hapless carrot and scowled out at the students. As this was his normal demeanor, nobody took special note of him. "Ravens. First years, first years. Yes, all here. Second years?" Severus scowled at his plate and counted them from the corner of his eye, absently eating his carrot. "No. Farmer is missing. Third?"

Continuing his headcount, Severus eventually eliminated all but three Hufflepuffs, four Ravenclaws, and six Gryffndors before his normal leaving time. Growling his frustration, Severus made to rise, when he was stopped by the mediwitch. If it wouldn't completely ruin his hard-won reputation, not to mention make him green, he might have kissed her for the distraction that would likely allow him a couple more minutes to keep an eye out for the thirteen missing students.

"Yes, Poppy?" he asked nicely, for him. If he was nice maybe she would talk a bit longer.

"It seems that the autumn outbreak of colds has started, Severus. I had four children through my ward just this afternoon. Will you be able to brew a batch of Pepper-Up for me tomorrow? Or should I place an order with St. Mungo's?" she asked politely, mindful of the man's temper but still needing an answer.

Severus narrowed his eyes and pretended to consider her request. "Yes. I have time enough tomorrow. Do you require anything else that I may be able to brew simultaneously?" he answered, marking off the three Hufflepuffs as they snuck in late through a side door.

Glad to have caught the potions master in a good mood, the nurse replied, "I'm a bit low on hair restorer, perhaps, and I will always take burn cream."

Two Gryffindors were eliminated as Severus nodded his acquiescence. "Very well. I will have them all to you by tomorrow evening."

Poppy smiled at him in gratitude. She really was a kind woman, always thankful for his efforts no matter how disagreeable he was being. "Thank you, Severus. I will see you tomorrow then. I won't keep you any longer."

Severus nodded to her and swooped out of the dining hall. He eliminated another Gryffindor, watching in amusement as the unfortunate student scrambled to get out of his way.

"This leaves four ravens, all fourth year. Very unlikely. And the obnoxious trio. Impossible. So, he chose someone outside of Hogwarts, then. How did he get them into the castle?" Severus mused on his way to his dungeon lab.

Setting up for the potions he would brew for Poppy tomorrow, Severus suddenly lost his grip on a cauldron. It crashed onto the countertop, listed to the side, and fell off onto the floor with additional loud banging. Severus ignored it, his eyes wide with alarm.

"No," he breathed, horrified, "Draco, what have you done?"

For Severus knew…he knew…that Draco had chosen Potter.

Sunday, 13 October

Severus had never before been more thankful than he was today for Poppy's need of Pepper-Up. He was making her two batches; he needed to keep busy to distract himself from thinking of Draco's foolishness. Today's breakfast had turned up all the remaining students on his list…except Potter.

He was at a loss to explain his son's motives. Oh, Severus knew that Draco had always wanted to befriend Potter; even that he still had a fascination with the obnoxious brat. But Potter hated all things Slytherin, with Draco probably in the top five. How could Draco think that Potter would accept?

Of course, Potter obviously had accepted.

Severus couldn't see how that was anything but bad for Draco. Potter had probably fucked Draco as many times as the boy had begged in his delirium, stealing Draco's transition magic in misplaced retaliation for not getting any new magic during his own transition. Potter would taunt Draco all week, making the most of the time to get back at Draco for every perceived slight against him, his friends, his house, Merlin, his damn broom! He wanted to rescue his son from Potter's callous clutches.

And couldn't.

Severus had checked every transition chamber last night when he realized what Draco had done. None were in use. He had then sent out a search spell for Draco. It had returned empty even though Draco had to be in the castle. He, like every other Head of House, would have been alerted by the wards if any student had left the castle grounds. No, he couldn't find his son.

Why had Draco made such a poor choice? He didn't understand.

Later that evening found Severus standing in his main room, staring forlornly at the fire. Closing his eyes and hanging his head, Severus begged, "Salazar protect my son."

Monday, 14 October

As he expected, Monday's potion class of sixth year Slytherins and Gryffindors was two pupils short. He delighted in taking points and assigning detention for Potter's truancy. He had taken his standard amount even though he had longed to do more. To do so, though, would draw suspicion to him that he was aware of the reason why Potter was absent, and he couldn't do that. When the spoiled brat was back in school, though, Severus would take the utmost satisfaction in making the boy's life hell.

"Mister Zabini, stay after class," Severus demanded as the students packed away their books at the end of class.

"Yes, sir."

When the last student had left, Severus turned to Blaise Zabini and raised an eyebrow pointedly. "Make it good, Severus," he thought to himself.

The boy shifted nervously under his gaze. "Nobody knows for sure, sir. We think he's still in his room. He's been staying in his room every weekend this year, not coming out. Nobody thought anything was up until this morning when he didn't show up for first class."

"And nobody thought to inform me after first class, instead of now?" Severus asked sarcastically.

"Well, ah…," Severus watched the boy swallow nervously. "We think he's hiding, sir."

"Hiding," Severus repeated emotionlessly.

Blaise straightened his shoulders and looked his Head of House in the eye. The boy had spunk, Severus had to admit. "It is the considered belief of the sixth year boys that Draco is in hiding and will not emerge from his rooms of his own volition for the next two weeks. Everyone knows that his birthday is Saturday and Pansy was to be his transition partner. Pansy hasn't been able to shut up about it for weeks. Everyone also knows that Draco detests Pansy. We believe that Draco may attempt to go through transition by himself. Sir."

Severus stared at the boy unblinking for several long moments. "I see. You may go, Mister Zabini."

"Yes, sir."

As Blaise Zabini left hurriedly, Severus had to contain a smirk of satisfaction at the rumor that had started without any help from him. "Perfect," he thought. His scowl returned in force, though, when he remembered whom Draco was with.

Severus headed to lunch, predicting that an emergency staff meeting would be called to discuss the "disappearance" of Potter. He would have to be careful not to give away what he knew. He may wish great suffering upon Potter, but to reveal he knew anything about Potter's disappearance meant he would reveal he knew about Draco's. And he wasn't prepared to give up that secret in this lifetime. To do so would likely land him at the Dark Lord's feet as the newest plaything, courtesy of Lucius.

Not thirty minutes later saw a glum potions master sitting in the staff room waiting for Albus to start this impromptu waste of time. "Sometimes I hate being right," Severus thought irritably.

"It seems we have a problem," Albus started.

"No, you don't have a problem. Draco has a problem," Severus thought sourly.

"Mister Potter was missing in this morning's classes. Mister Weasley thought that Harry was still in his bed, as the curtains were still drawn when Mister Weasley left for breakfast. However, Minerva spent a great deal of time during second period dismantling the wards on Harry's bed only to find that Harry was not there. Apparently, he's not been seen since Friday evening," Albus said gravely.

"Of course not. He's been with Draco sucking off my son's magic to make up for his own pathetic lack and is now having fun tormenting a helpless Slytherin," Severus thought bitterly.

"While I have been able to determine that he is healthy and not in any distress, the location charms I have cast have been unable to find Mister Potter. I do know, however, that he must be in the castle as no student has passed through the wards since the beginning of term," Albus added.

Severus raised an eyebrow at this revelation while the other teachers made varying sounds of distress. The Headmaster had any number of tracking devices tuned to Harry Potter. Just where had the boys gone that those devices were ineffective?

"What I would like to know from you is if you have noted any unusual occurrences since Friday evening?" Albus asked.

"Oh, yes. My son asked Harry Potter to be his transition partner," Severus responded mentally.

The Headmaster looked around the room, taking in the negative responses of most of his staff. "Severus? Have you noted any unusual occurrences?"

"Mister Malfoy barricaded himself in his room Friday evening and has refused to come out," Severus said. He figured he might as well help start his own rumors amongst the staff.

"Do you think Harry might be in there with Mister Malfoy?" Minerva asked.

Severus gave her a scathing glare and refused to comment.

Minerva sighed. "No, I suppose not."

Albus raised his eyebrows at Severus and asked mildly, "And just what does Mister Malfoy hope to accomplish by locking himself away?"

"As if you don't know," Severus thought but aloud said, "His year-mates believe that he is hiding from the possibility of Miss Parkinson becoming his transition partner. His birthday is this Saturday."

"But why, Severus? That doesn't make any sense," Minerva said, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Severus glared at her. "Mister Malfoy detests Miss Parkinson. Mister Malfoy has objected to Miss Parkinson since their fathers first made arrangements for them to transition with each other. Mister Zabini related that it is believed the boy is going to attempt transition alone."

Various exclamations of shock, denial, and horror were heard throughout the room. Even Albus looked taken aback.

"Quiet!" Albus demanded. "That seems unwise, Severus," Albus added, looking at the potions master in concern.

"Unwise!" exclaimed Poppy, desperate hysteria edging into her outburst. "It's more than unwise! It's suicidal! The boy is too powerful to go through transition alone. He'll end up killing himself! You must get him out of that room!"

Severus glared at her and stated acerbically, "I can only presume that Mister Malfoy believes it worth the risk."

"Severus," Albus said firmly, "Poppy is right. Mister Malfoy cannot go through transition alone. You must get him out of his room. I'm sure a solution can be found if he truly objects to Miss Parkinson that much."

Severus scowled fiercely. "There is no other solution, old man, I've been contemplating options for sixteen years," Severus thought angrily. "I cannot," is all he said out loud.

"Why ever not, Severus?" Albus asked, looking over his glasses sternly.

"He has removed my emergency password from his wards," Severus replied. "I taught the boy wards myself, there is no way anyone will get in without his consent. And before you bother to suggest such a thing, he has warded his room against house-elves."

"I see," Albus said with surprise. "Well, you and I will have to take a trip to his rooms when we are done here. I can use Hogwarts' magic to create a new door into his rooms. We can then discuss alternative solutions."

Severus didn't object, just nodded and remained silent. As he had told Draco, it wouldn't matter if the Headmaster found him now; the transition bond was already set. Not that Draco was actually in his rooms. Not if Potter wasn't.

"Anyone else? No?" Albus sighed. "Please keep your eyes open to anything that might reveal to us the location of Mister Potter. Thank you everyone."

Severus waited for everyone to leave then led the Headmaster to the Slytherin dorms. His stony face relayed his displeasure to the few students in the common room. Likely speculation would soon be running throughout the house as to whether he was upset about Draco locking himself away so thoroughly that the Headmaster's help was needed or whether it was because the Headmaster was insisting on removing Draco from his sanctuary. He wouldn't bother to enlighten them.

Albus was looking quite grim when fifteen minutes later revealed an empty dorm room and even grimmer when he finished reading the short letter addressed to Severus that Draco had left on his pillow. An additional fifteen minutes only produced several failed location spells. "Severus, this is not good."

Severus nodded and looked around the room with narrowed eyes, trying to spot any evidence at all about where the boy had gone. Nothing. He didn't dare express his pride in front of the Headmaster. Severus may be dismayed at Draco's choice, but he couldn't fault the boy's execution of his escape. And the letter was a nice addition for which he would be sure to praise his son. It wasn't part of the original plan they had discussed but it would definitely be helpful to keep them both out of…well, not all, but surely out of some trouble.

Severus was glad he'd been facing away from the headmaster when reading the letter as he had had to clamp his lips together to keep from laughing out loud. "I've discovered, by quite a fortuitous accident, that my birthday is actually October 12." Fortuitous accident, indeed. Severus had placed the paternity potion first on the sixth year curriculum the very first year he had started teaching. "Please thank Father for keeping my true birthday a secret. Although I'm sure this isn't one of the ways in which he meant to protect me by keeping the true date hidden, I am, nevertheless, taking advantage of this opportunity… I hope he wasn't too harsh with you when he came to collect me…" Oh, how he couldn't wait to "thank" Lucius! He could just imagine the man's face…

"Perhaps he and Mister Potter are together, after all," Albus suggested.

Severus sneered, "I highly doubt it, Headmaster. They are bitter enemies, in case you hadn't noticed."

Albus nodded. "Perhaps so, Severus. However, their simultaneous disappearance is too coincidental."

Severus scowled but said nothing. Leaving Draco's room, Severus saw a couple students in the hall. More than likely they had heard the conversation. "Excellent," he thought, "More rumors."

"Should I contact the boy's father?" Severus asked stiffly.

Albus nodded. "Please, Severus. Perhaps he has another way to locate his son."

"I'm sure he does, but if your trinkets didn't find Potter I doubt Lucius will have any luck finding Draco."

Tuesday, 15 October

Severus woke in an even fouler mood than the day before; tired, sore, and cranky from a rousing bout of painful interrogation. And his worry for Draco only increased each day he was under Potter's abuse.

Lucius had been furious and accused Severus of all manner of foul play before coming to Hogwarts himself to cast various spells in search of his heir as well as question, and subsequently terrify, several Slytherins. Having as much success as Severus had predicted, Lucius had then left in a snit to complain to the Dark Lord, resulting in Severus being called and interrogated before the inner circle. It had been vicious and painful but Severus was glad it had happened and was now behind him. He even managed to garner some amusement from the situation when Lucius had been taunted.

Severus' alibi had held easily, as he had known it would. He'd only spent the last sixteen years on it, after all. The inner circle had all been present and once they understood what had, supposedly, happened, they had laughed at Lucius' folly in not double checking Draco's birth day with a simple age spell.

Even the Dark Lord had found the situation funny. That was, until Severus had told him that Potter had disappeared at the same time and was also unlocatable. Thankfully, it had been Lucius that had felt the brunt of their Lord's displeasure at that news. The Dark Lord had then cast a parseltongue location spell on both Potter and Draco. Both failed. The Dark Lord had vacillated between being delighted that Potter was helping Draco hide and being angry that Draco was accepting help from Potter. It hadn't been a fun night for anyone.

And to Severus' delight, everyone had blamed Lucius.

Today, Severus planned on taking his foul mood out on the students. It was the least he could do since he was going to be subjected to Lucius' presence during his free time as the man prowled the castle looking for his heir. It seemed Lucius had his own trinkets that were tuned to Draco and he wanted to bring them to the castle for optimum performance.

Severus figured they would be just as effective as the Headmaster's.

He was right.

Wednesday, 16 October

Severus glowered at his breakfast. This was day five of Draco's transition; the traditional day that invitations would arrive if there was to be a Presentation. Severus had been certain his son would receive a specific Gift and therefore would have a Presentation. Now, though, with Potter draining off Draco's magic, he doubted Draco had managed to hold onto enough of his transition magic for a Gift to manifest. The Gift and Presentation were something else Potter had stolen from his son.

Engrossed in his bitter musings, Severus didn't notice right away the number of owls for the morning post until Minerva's exclamation of "Great Merlin!" Looking up, Severus saw the usual number of morning owls had doubled. He was surprised when owls of various types landed in front of every teacher, including himself. Relieving the bird of its burden, Severus was only able to stare blankly at the expensive envelope addressed to him in silver ink; an envelope that obviously carried an invitation. And he knew who would be named.

He was certain it was someone else directing his hands to open the envelope; he certainly couldn't remember any such command to his appendages. Pulling out an equally expensive invitation, Severus felt his eyes drawn inexorably to the elegant silver script.

You are cordially invited
To the Presentation of the Gifted
Draconis Lucius Malfoy
By Harold James Potter
At six o'clock on Saturday, 19 October1996
At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

This…was impossible.

Severus stood, still staring at the invitation, and left the dining hall. Later, Severus would be glad to learn his reaction had been reported to several interested parties, strengthening his and Draco's alibi. Unfortunately for Severus' reputation, however, it would be years before the stories would die about the shocked face of the surly potions master.

Severus was even more shocked when that evening he received a private missive. Included in the large privacy spelled envelope was a second invitation in gold script and a short note from Potter: For the true father of my charge. H.J. Potter.

Holding the gold invitation to his chest, Severus, for the second time in his life, felt his paradigms shatter. Obviously, he needed to reconsider what he thought he knew about Harry Potter.

Thursday, 17 October

Severus wandered into yet another shop in Diagon Alley. He was searching, willingly and sincerely, for a gift for Harry Potter. The concept boggled his mind. However, it was tradition that the transition partner/guardian of a Gifted wizard was presented with a suitable gift. While it needn't be as valuable as what was given to the Gifted wizard, it was certainly supposed to be nice. Far be it for him to buck tradition. But he was stumped. He had no idea what Potter would like.

"Probably because you have no idea who he really is," Severus thought to himself somewhat sourly.

Severus had come, quite reluctantly, to the conclusion that Harry Potter was not like his father and that, in fact, he knew very little of any real substance about the infuriating boy. Throughout the day he had been systematically reviewing all his memories of the Boy-Who-Lived and had come up with discrepancy after discrepancy.

For instance, the boy was obviously hiding his academic abilities. The boy's classwork was of poor quality, yet he had received an E on the potion's O.W.L. Potter had garnered the highest score in defense, yet nearly every teacher for that subject had been beyond incompetent. This meant that Potter either had had private tutelage or was disciplined enough for serious self-study. The same was true for the boy's E in Care of Magical Creatures. Potter had been one of the few to even pass the O.W.L.s in either subject. Given his previous classroom showing he should have failed spectacularly with the majority of his classmates. Yet, he hadn't. Severus actually found himself wondering if Potter's grades on the O.W.L.s were a true indication of his academic level or if the boy was hiding even more of his knowledge. Somehow, he wouldn't be surprised.

Potter was also not as good of friends with Granger and Weasley as seemed apparent. Now that he was looking, Severus had found many incidents where Potter's facial expression at Granger's know-it-all diatribes or Weasley's quidditch rants had been one of impatience and aggravation quickly masked to be the typical teenaged horror and/or suffering and/or annoyance and/or pained tolerance that matched the third of the triad's reaction of the moment. Very sneaky. Very clever. Very Slytherin, even.

"Not to mention," Severus thought with grim amusement, "he's obviously smart enough to realize that he needed to secrete himself and Draco where they could not be found, even by the Headmaster."

Severus knew that the inability to find the boys had to be Potter's doing, though he had no idea where or how the boy had learned the appropriate wards. Draco may be highly trained in entrance wards but, as far as Severus knew, his son was not yet skilled in non-detection wards. And he had found out earlier that day from Albus that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets had not been disturbed so he knew the boys were not under any Founder's Wards. He wondered if the boys would answer any questions about their location when they returned. Probably not.

Fingering the set of small throwing knives, Severus decided that he was going to have a long talk with the erstwhile Golden Boy. Potter had acknowledged him as Draco's true father; he ought to be able to use that to convince the boy that Severus had the right to know his son's transition guardian. Yes, that would probably work. At least, it would work as long as the boy actually had a Gryffindor's sense of honor and not a Slytherin's. He could only hope. Severus pulled himself from his thoughts.

"I will take these," Severus informed the merchant.

Friday, 18 October

"I will do it," Severus volunteered.

The entire staff room went silent as all the professor's stared at Severus in shock.

"What?" he sneered. "I do not trust any of you not to decorate the hall in a completely inappropriate fashion. Draco is my godson. I will ensure that his Presentation is not overshadowed by hideous ornamentation or, Merlin forbid, shades of red and gold."

"Very well, Severus. Thank you," Albus agreed mildly, ignoring the outraged protests of the remainder of the staff.

Severus pulled out a folded sheet of parchment and passed it towards the Headmaster. "Lucius has sent a list of caterers he finds acceptable to service this event as well as an authorization to charge his Gringott's account."

Minerva sniffed in annoyance but pushed the parchment closer to Albus. Albus picked it up, perused it quickly, then set it back down and tapped it thoughtfully with one gnarled finger.

"That was thoughtful of him," Albus said placidly. "However, I have been informed by the head elf that arrangements have already been made. And paid for."

"Indeed," Severus said, raising an eyebrow. Well, that was interesting. He probably shouldn't have been surprised, though, the invitations were rather expensive. But where…

"Albus! Just how is Harry paying for this!" Minerva exclaimed. "Those invitations were not cheap. I thought at first that only the professor's had received such fine invitations, but that isn't the case. I checked with the students of my house and they were all the same. There must have been a hundred invitations delivered just at Hogwarts! Who knows how many went elsewhere?"

"Yes, Minerva, I know," Albus replied, also looking slightly worried. "I received a guest list; nearly three hundred and fifty people were invited, half with a guest of choice as well. I expect they will all come."

"Of course they will all come," Severus scoffed. "To not come to a Presentation? And one for the Malfoy heir to boot? Inconceivable. They will all be here, rest assured, even if they are dying."

The Headmaster waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, yes," he said. "Have there been any problems with the evening passes to Hogsmeade or with parents taking their children further away to shop for gifts?"

Various negative responses sounded throughout the room. Severus had been skeptical when the Headmaster had granted "shopping rights" to the student invitees, mostly upper years, at Wednesday's noon meal, but it seemed that the students were being responsible so far.

"Very well. It seems our wayward students will return tomorrow and all this drama will finally end," Albus said.

Severus snorted. "No, Albus. The drama will be just beginning. What with Miss Parkinson being snubbed and Lucius will being disobeyed in favor of bonding with, of all people, The-Boy-Who-Lived. Likely no one will be so uncultured as to throw a fit at the Presentation, however, Slytherin and Gryffindor House are both up in arms over this and will likely take great delight in tormenting both boys come Monday. Also, Draco's parents and Miss Parkinson and her parents are guaranteed to have any number of harsh words for Mister Malfoy. Before the weekend is over Draco will be glad he cannot be disowned, mark my words."

Albus sighed. "Perhaps you are right."

"Oh, I'm right," Severus said darkly.

Saturday, 19 October

It was 3:30 and Severus was expecting the elder Malfoys at any moment. As parents and godparent, the three of them needed to open the doors to the great hall at 4:00 and begin greeting the guests. A Presentation was once of the few social gathering for which "fashionably late" did not apply. You arrived in plenty of time to be admitted or you were not admitted at all. At five minutes to 6:00 they would close the doors and all would await the arrival of Draco and Potter.

Severus picked up the long silver chain that denoted his status as godfather and placed it around his neck, settling it against his robes. Another long look into his mirror confirmed his immaculate appearance. He wore deep black rich velvet robes; understated, though of fine quality and an excellent cut that subtly flattered his frame. The godparent chain was highly visible and complementary. His hair was freshly trimmed, washed and dried and, as it held none of the fume resistant conditioner this evening, floated lightly about his face and shoulders. His "greasy git" reputation was going to take a hit this evening but there was nothing for it; he would look his best for Draco.

Hopefully, Potter was wearing at least an appropriately formal, if not traditional, robe and had provided Draco with a good quality set of robes for his Gift. Despite the rumors floating about amongst his Slytherins that Potter wasn't going to provide Draco with quality robes at all, much less the properly traditional robes appropriate to Draco's Gift, Severus rather thought that Potter had, indeed, provided well for Draco. They would see.

A knock pulled Severus from his musings. Opening his door, Severus greeted Lucius and Narcissa, "Good evening. Please come in." He opened his door wide for the couple and gestured them into his chambers. Severus closed the door and turned to his guests.

"Lucius," he nodded towards the blond. "Narcissa, you are as lovely as ever."

"Thank you, Severus. You are looking handsome this evening," she observed blandly.

He inclined his head and turned to Lucius.

Lucius eyed him dispassionately, "You are ready."

"I am ready."

"Then let us go."

Chapter 9 - Wednesday, 16 October 1996

Wednesday morning found Draco reveling in his ability to stand in the shower and wash himself. He felt a hundred times more energetic than the previous day. Why, he might even get through the whole day without napping!

Draco finished his shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist when he was done. Draco grimaced in annoyance when he realized he had left his wand in the other room; the mouth cleaning charm would have to wait until he could retrieve his wand. Grabbing a handy comb, Draco tended his hair until it fell smooth and untangled. His hair reached the middle of his back, now; it was the traditional length for a Gifted wizard. He'd have to learn how to braid it. Maybe Harry knew how and could teach him.

Harry. The other boy had kept him naked for the last four days. Reasonably so, he supposed. Well, today he was feeling better and he wasn't going to stay in bed! He would be up and about like a normal person, by Merlin, and he was going to demand some pants at the very least! Steeling his resolve, he headed out of the bathroom prepared for a battle only to find Harry not three feet away dangling a pair of silk sleep pants at him. Scowling at having been outmaneuvered, Draco swiped the pants from his smirking transition guardian and stepped back into the bathroom to don the sleepwear. Frowning at their slightly too large size, Draco stepped back out into the bedroom.

"How come you gave me a pair of yours?" Draco asked. "What's wrong with mine?"

Harry gave the other boy a blank look. "What do you mean yours? You don't have anything down here."

"Of course I do," Draco denied. "I brought a whole week's worth of clothes in my bag."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "What bag?"

Draco opened his mouth to reply only to close it a moment later when he realized he had never told Harry about the bag he had brought with him. He smiled sheepishly. "The bag that was in my trousers pocket that I never told you about?"

"Ah," Harry said in mock understanding, "That bag. I'll just fetch it now, shall I?"

"An excellent idea, Harry. Couldn't have thought of a better one myself." Draco drawled back, amused at his own expense.

Harry snorted his own amusement and turned towards one of the doors. Draco took the opportunity to fetch his wand and cast a mouth cleansing and a hair drying charm. Turning back, he saw Harry emerge from what appeared to be a rather large walk-in closet with Draco's miniaturized bag in his hand.

Harry set the bag down on the chair Draco had first used to remove his shoes and watched as Draco resized the bag and dug through it looking for something. Draco's elegant hand emerged with a black silk sleep shirt, which Harry promptly confiscated.

"Harry!" Draco protested.

"Nope. I like looking at you; you're very handsome. You're not covering up that body any more than it already is," Harry said firmly.

Draco flushed and said nothing. He watched Harry refold the shirt and put it back in the travel bag. Draco flushed even more at the wicked smile Harry then graced him with. Well, at least he knew now that Harry found him attractive.

"Well, fair is fair, I suppose. Since you're wearing your pants today, I'll take off mine."

"No!" Draco exclaimed, alarmed. "You don't need to do that!"

Harry merely laughed, turned his back to Draco, dropped his sleep pants, and crawled to the middle of the bed and got comfortable on his belly. Hearing a strangled sound from Draco, Harry turned his head and chuckled at the other boy's expression. "This would be an excellent opportunity for you to feel out all the muscles on the lower body," Harry suggested lightly. "Why don't you get your book?"

"Harry…"

"I promise not to accost you," Harry said soothingly.

"I…All right," Draco said with a resigned sigh, knowing he wouldn't win this argument. Picking up his book, Draco joined Harry on the bed and sat himself comfortably by Harry's knees. He would start at Harry's feet and work up. Maybe by the time he got to Harry's buttocks, he wouldn't feel so embarrassed.

Draco spent the next several hours immersed in Harry's body. By the time Draco reached Harry's buttocks, embarrassment had indeed been replaced by fascination. Not stopping there, Draco had then traced the branches of the nervous system as they left the spine. Satisfied with that, he had proceeded to feel the major veins and arteries, not noticing when he had encouraged Harry to flip to his back so he had better access to some of them. This new position had invited exploration of the front of Harry's legs as well as his internal organs. Draco had spent nearly an hour with his eyes closed and hands on Harry's abdomen as he felt the organs as they functioned in concert. Beautiful.

Feeling something a bit off in Harry's belly, Draco concentrated on the sensation of offness that he felt. It wasn't wrong so much as it was just…off. Figuring it out rather quickly, Draco slowly pulled himself out of the trance he had fallen into.

"You're hungry," Draco said, blinking out the last of his trance.

"I'd imagine you are, too," Harry replied calmly. "We missed breakfast."

"I am," Draco agreed, looking a bit surprised at the idea, having not noticed such a thing while magically exploring Harry's body.

"It's probably after noon. How about some sandwiches?" Harry asked.

Draco nodded, distracted by his own thoughts.

Harry sat up slowly and scooted to the end of the bed to stand. Padding quietly to the food box, Harry pulled out two sandwiches and a large bottle of pre-made tea. Grabbing cups and napkins, he rejoined Draco on the bed, crossing his legs and offering the sandwiches to Draco.

"Here. Pick which one you want and I'll have the other," Harry said nonchalantly, wondering just how long it would take Draco to realize that Harry was still completely nude. He wasn't opening the bottle of tea until then, just in case.

Draco took the sandwich boxes and read the tops. Choosing one, he handed the other back and nearly dropped it before Harry had taken hold.

"Harry!"

"Yes, Draco," Harry drawled out. Opening his sandwich box and activating the temperature charm, Harry watched as Draco flushed and tried to look at him without looking there. It was quite funny.

Grabbing a pillow, Draco offered it to Harry with a pleading look. Harry took the pillow but promptly dashed Draco's hopes of modesty by tossing it back to the head of the bed.

"Really, Draco. You've got one of your own. It looks very similar. Why are you so embarrassed?" Harry asked seriously, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Draco shrugged uncomfortably, looking away.

"Are you this embarrassed with a girl?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco shrugged again then offered, "It's always been in the dark."

Harry raised an eyebrow and took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. "So. The problem right now isn't so much me being male as me being in the light?"

Draco shrugged and nodded, then shook his head and shrugged again.

"Well, that was clear," Harry said dryly. Seeing as Draco had made no move towards his own sandwich, Harry opened his napkin and placed it over his lap. "There. That should do for now, yes? I'm more interested at the moment in you eating lunch than in you getting over your embarrassment."

Draco nodded and opened his sandwich and activated the temperature charm after reading the instructions. He couldn't look at Harry.

"Tea?" Harry offered.

"Please."

Lunch passed with no more conversation, both boys absorbed in their own thoughts. When they were finished, Harry picked up the remains and took them back to the special compartment of his food box. Draco kept his eyes averted while Harry was uncovered.

Coming back to the bed, Harry laid a hand on Draco's shoulder from behind. "Draco…"

"Because I am, all right!" Draco said quickly, interrupting Harry's question. "Because…," Draco pause to swallow nervously, "because I want it. And you. I've always wanted you. For a friend at first but then it changed. And now, the magic…the bond…it's wanting you, almost desperately. I can't fight it off very well and it's getting worse. I'm sure it'll drive us together soon. And I've never done anything like that and I don't know what to do," Draco finished softly, admitting his feelings of inadequacy. He pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them and hid his face.

Harry stroked the fine white hair before him, thinking carefully about what to say. He couldn't mess this up. Parting the hair into thirds, Harry began braiding Draco's hair and talking softly, "Draco…your lack of experience, well, it doesn't really matter that much. Not to me. True, you should be somewhat knowledgeable before we try anything, but I told you we would talk about it. Benoît…," Harry paused in his braiding for a moment before deciding to forge ahead, "Benoît - he was my first lover, that historian I told you about - he didn't care a whit that I'd not even kissed anyone. He told me that the most important things about sex were responsibility, respect, creativity and open-mindedness; that experience, while useful, had a much lesser impact on mutual enjoyment."

Draco made a derogatory sound and kept his face hidden.

Harry smiled and restarted his braiding. "I didn't believe him, either, but it turned out to be true. He taught me to be responsible for hygiene, cleanliness, and protection for myself and whomever I was lying with. It sounds boring, but when you know and do those things it gives you a sense of confidence and safety. He told me to respect what my partners do or do not want to do in bed and respect what I did and did not want to do in bed. That way I wouldn't feel taken advantage of and I wouldn't take advantage of someone else. He told me that you could have all the experience in the world but if you just did the same things over and over and over then sex got really boring. He encouraged me to try whatever I wanted no matter how odd and," Harry stopped to snicker, "he would buy me all these books and magazines and such about sex. Some of them were great and some were odd and some of them were downright awful."

Grinning at Draco's returned snicker, Harry tugged on the now finished braid and said, "Some of our best sex was right after I'd looked through something he'd bought and we'd try it out. There were mishaps, of course; not everything was perfect and wet and wild or whatever and some things just never felt arousing to me no matter that so-and-so swore by it. And I did get better coordinated throughout the summer. But overall none of that seemed to matter that much. We were interested in pleasing each other not just in peer image or reaching the goal, so to speak. Do you see what I'm trying to say?"

Draco lifted his head and put his chin on his knees. "Maybe," he sighed. "It hasn't been that wonderful with the girls so far. Quite a let-down, really, considering what the others are constantly saying."

"That's what happens when you're not really interested," Harry said dryly. "Here, hold this a moment," Harry requested, holding out the end of Draco's braid.

Draco complied and a moment later Harry had grabbed his wand and spelled a two inch tall plain white leather band around the end of the braid to hold it together. Another whispered spell that Draco didn't catch and Harry rejoined him on the bed, this time wearing sleep pants. Draco raised an eyebrow in question.

"I figured I should take my own advice," Harry said wryly, "and not harass you with my lack of modesty."

"Thanks," Draco said softly, not relinquishing his curled up position.

"You're welcome." Harry paused and ran a hand through his hair. "Look, it's true the bond is driving us together. You knew we would probably end up lovers. Still, it's not a foregone conclusion. We could resist the pull, I'm sure. I don't think that would be the best idea, though, and…well…I don't really want to, to be honest." Harry paused again, trying to think of how to calm his nervous bond-mate. "How about this? I'll not tease you anymore about sex and you let me teach you about it, starting from the very beginning," Harry offered.

Draco stared at him, lightly blushing at Harry's confession and suggestion. "What is the beginning?" he asked.

"Just some super snuggling," Harry said with an amused grin.

"What?" Draco laughed in surprise.

Harry situated some pillows and sat up against the headboard, spreading his legs and holding out his arms. "Come here," he beckoned. Draco slowly joined him, taking several minutes to relax in Harry's embrace once there.

"Now," Harry began, "Why don't you tell me some of the things you've been sensing with your Gift? Have you come across anything in your reading or exploration that you want to take further or have questions about?"

The next couple hours saw Harry and Draco tossing around ideas and observations about Draco's Gift as well as more general conversations about school, politics, future plans, and past experiences. During their exchange, Harry found that Draco was rather responsive to touch; he let Harry get more and more bold as time went on and even became more bold himself, occasionally caressing Harry's thighs and hands. Harry made sure to keep his hands above the waist but he was still able to get quite a number of hitched breaths out of his companion.

Nuzzling his nose in behind Draco's right ear, Harry splayed his right hand over Draco's belly and said apologetically, "I really need to get up and use the bathroom."

"Me, too," Draco said.

"Go on, then," Harry said, withdrawing his arms from around the other boy, "I'll go after you."

Coming back from his turn in the bathroom, Harry found Draco looking through the wizarding healing books that had arrived that morning. Draco smiled up at Harry and held out a book for the approval of his transition guardian, "I thought I'd read this one next. Maybe I could do something about those scars of yours."

Harry took the book and looked at the title - Cosmetic Wizardry: A Medi-Guide to Removing Blemishes, Banishing Wrinkles, and Looking Fit by Annabelle Rivers, Certified Cosmetic Medi-witch. "Looks like a good choice," Harry agreed, smiling. "My scar is a curse scar, though, I can't imagine it would respond to cosmetic medi-magic."

"Not your curse scar," Draco denied, shaking his head, "the other ones along your back and legs and arms."

Harry's eyes widened and he paled. He hadn't thought Draco would see those! The glamour he used, instinctively at first but then deliberately, had never failed, not even against the deepest of Madame Pomphrey's scans. Draco had seen through it with apparently no effort. Probably due to his Gift, he realized.

"I'm sorry," Draco stuttered out, unnerved at Harry's reaction. "I just thought that if I could heal them then you wouldn't have to use the glamour and you'd have that power available for something else. I didn't mean to upset you."

Harry flushed in shame and looked down at the book in his hands. He knew it was a useless, even wrong, reaction. None of his scars were his fault, he knew. Even if he hadn't figured that out for himself, Salazar had been adamant that nothing in any of the situations in which his scars had been received had been his fault. Nothing. Harry figured his emotions might figure that out sometime in the next half-century; they seemed quite behind his mental conclusions.

"H-Harry?" Draco asked, getting fearful. He had felt the scars so easily that he hadn't thought they were such a deeply sensitive topic.

Harry shook his head, still looking down at the book his hands clenched so tightly. "It's all right, Draco. You just…caught me by surprise, that's all," he said quietly, just managing to keep his sense of shame from entering his voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think it was such a big deal since you're not hiding them too hard," Draco said softly.

Harry looked up at this statement and lifted a disbelieving eyebrow at Draco. "What do you mean that I'm not hiding them too hard?"

Draco shrugged in confusion. "The glamour's not that strong. I felt them right away when I was feeling you with my magic and I can even see them now, now that I know where to look," he said, his tone easily showing his lack of understanding of the magnitude of what he had done.

Harry blinked and said seriously, "Draco, Madame Pomphrey has never been able to see through my glamours in any way, no matter what spell she used. And I'm pretty sure Dumbledore doesn't know about them either."

Draco's eyes widened and he swallowed nervously at the implications of Harry's statement. "That's a really powerful glamour," he said weakly.

Harry nodded. "Salazar says…" Harry stopped and relaxed his grip. "Never mind."

"No, tell me," Draco said softly.

"Salazar says it's an instinctive parsel-glamour used by parselmouths that really, really don't want anybody to see something. He says that if no one, not even a medi-witch, can see through it that that's what it must be. Only a parselmouth should be able to see through the glamour," Harry said quietly.

"I'm sorry," Draco said again, not really knowing what else to say.

Harry shook his head. "That's all right. If you want to try to heal them…that's all right with me. Just…don't tell anyone about them, please?"

"No, of course not," Draco said.

"And maybe you can develop that to always see through glamours," Harry added.

Draco nodded. "That would be useful."

"Well, go on then," Harry said with a small smile, holding out the book. "Try to keep in mind what you learned about skin and such in the muggle book while you read this, all right?"

Draco nodded and returned Harry's smile with one of his own. He could feel through the bond that while Harry was still somewhat upset, he was happy for Draco's interest and enthusiasm. So Draco took his book over to the settee by the fireplace and curled up for a nice read until supper.

Harry set the small table with his supper choices - a smallish salad each, a plate of blanched, marinated, and chilled asparagus, warm bread, and a decent, though not very expensive, white wine. A single serving wouldn't hurt Draco's settling magics, in fact, it might help a small bit. Harry looked over at the now white-haired boy; Harry was loath to disturb him from where he had planted his nose in that book for the last four hours.

"Draco," Harry called softly, then again a bit more loudly.

Draco startled and looked over at Harry. "Yes?"

"Can you put that book down long enough to come and eat supper?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Supper? Already?" Draco asked, surprised.

"It's a little after six o'clock, Draco," Harry said.

"Oh," Draco replied, looking down at his book as if surprised to find it in his lap. Shaking his head, he set the book down and got up and joined Harry at the table. "Nice," he said, after perusing their supper.

Sitting down, Draco lifted the wine glass and took a small sip, rolling the wine around his tongue. He nodded in approval. "A decent vintage."

"I'm glad you approve," Harry said, sitting down and picking up his fork to stab an asparagus spear.

Draco smiled at him impishly and proceeded with eating his supper. Like all of their shared meals thus far, there was no further conversation. Harry was fine with that, though he did wonder why Draco was fine with it. He would have thought that Draco would be used to idle conversation over meals. Maybe he'd ask later.

Draco helped clear the dishes and, through some unspoken agreement, the two boys made their way to the bed, moving to sit comfortably in the middle.

"I found some things I want to try on your scars, if that's all right?" Draco asked Harry, looking a bit nervous. Making Harry upset was not part of the plan!

Harry smiled encouragingly. "All right. How about starting with something small?" Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. A moment later a short, thin scar on his left palm appeared. Holding out his hand to Draco, Harry asked, "Did you remember to think about the muggle stuff while you were reading that book?"

Draco nodded absently, taking Harry's hand and peering at the small scar. "Yes. It was really helpful actually and I want to try to incorporate some of the muggle stuff with several things I read about." Draco closed his eyes and felt the scar with his thumb, the way the skin was different there than on either side, like there was a bridge between two grassy plains. In his mind he imagined the bridge dissolving and pulled the two plains together into one. Eyeing his work in satisfaction, he released the mental image and opened his eyes and looked at Harry's now unblemished palm. Grinning in triumph, he looked up to see Harry watching him.

"I did it!" Draco exclaimed in delight and Harry grinned at him.

"Congratulations."

"Did you feel anything?" Draco asked curiously.

"There was a small twinge," Harry allowed, shrugging, "I don't know if some people would find it painful or not."

"Oh! I didn't think about inhibiting pain. I'm sorry," Draco said apologetically, horrified that he could have forgotten something so basic.

"No harm. That's why we started small, right? Do you want to try another one?" Harry asked, perfectly willing to continue being a test subject.

Draco nodded, eager. "May I try one of the burn scars? They're a different type of scar than a cut."

"Sure," Harry said. Once again Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, releasing from the glamour one of the smaller burn scars on his left forearm.

Once again Draco placed his thumb over the small scar, closed his eyes, and felt. This time he imagined a plain with a large scorch mark, the ground blackened and twisted several inches deep. He was about to start working when he remembered he needed to block pain. Calling up a short, purple, healing flame, Draco encircled the entire scorch mark. Then he pulled the edges of the scorch mark inward, reducing the size of the mark. Draco stopped when he saw the black earth piling in the middle. Thinking a moment, Draco started once again to pull while at the same time dissolving the edges of the blackened earth Draco continued his work until he had completely cinched out the blackened part, leaving only a grassy plain. Releasing the purple fire and then the entire scene, Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry.

"How was that?" Draco asked.

Harry grinned. "I didn't feel a thing! Let's see." They both grinned at the now clear skin. "Another?" Harry asked, feeling a sense of pride in Draco's accomplishment.

Draco nodded eagerly. He was delighted that he was doing so well and he could see the pride in Harry's eyes and feel it in the bond. Pride for him! The only one that had shown him such an emotion was Severus. "May I try a deeper one?"

Harry nodded and thought for a moment before offering his right hand. Draco took it and waited for Harry to release the glamour on the outside edge of his hand where Draco knew the cut had gone all the way to the bone. He rather thought that it must not have been stitched together because it was a wide scar instead of a thin line.

Draco gingerly held the hand offered him, debating whether he should say anything. Deciding to go ahead, hoping Harry wouldn't get angry, Draco asked, "Harry?" At the other boys inquiring sound, Draco continued, "This one…was there a problem? It doesn't seem like it was stitched together at all."

Harry stiffened and Draco braced himself for an angry tirade. To his surprise, Harry spoke softly, "The biggest problem was the Dursley's. They never provided any medical assistance. I was even forbidden to use the bandages they kept in the bathroom; after all, Dudley might scrape a knee. What did it matter if I was bleeding to death? They certainly weren't going to waste their precious time or money on taking a freak to the doctor to get patched up."

"Merlin," Draco said, sick with disgust. He wondered if he could get the muggles' address out of Harry and discreetly pass it to his father. If any muggles deserved the Dark Lord's wrath, it was these scum. "Is that why…," Draco trailed off, thinking maybe he should just keep his mouth shut about the other scars.

"It's why my scars are the way they are. None of the deep wounds were ever stitched so all those scars are wider than they would have been. Even the surface ones," Harry paused trying to figure how to word his statement then continued in the same soft voice, "Some of my injuries were just surface wounds, or mostly so, and would have healed with no problems except that I couldn't reach them to clean them, or I couldn't keep them clean because of the chores I was required to do, so they became infected and made scars when there otherwise wouldn't have been any."

Draco was gripping Harry's hand hard and though he was aware of it he couldn't seem to lessen his hold. Maybe he could concoct one of those untraceable poisons…it would take some work but he was sure he could brew at least one of them right. Then…what? Pour it over chocolates and send them for Christmas? "Good plan, Draco. Brilliant," he thought sarcastically.

"Why didn't your magic heal them?" he asked, not sure if he really wanted to know the answer.

Harry was quiet for a long time then answered in that same soft voice that Draco was positive was freaking him out more than the actual tale of abuse Harry was relating. "It was tired, I think. At least, that's my theory. The Dursley's couldn't really abuse me much physically because, although I didn't realize it at the time, my magic would step in and stop them somehow; they would trip or something would fall on them or whatever they were using to hit me with would break. My unnaturalness would keep them away from me for a while but then they'd come at me again. They could never get in more than a hit or two before something happened and I think they realized that, so they made sure that those hits really counted. But since my magic had just stopped whatever attack, there wasn't enough left over to do more than simply make sure I didn't die. So everything healed, well, naturally, is the only word I can think of."

Draco forced himself to release his death-grip on Harry's hand and caressed the half-inch wide scar. "This is one of the worst ones, isn't it?" he asked softly, reigning in his fury.

Harry nodded. "Yes. I really thought I was going to die. They stopped attacking me and tossed me in my cupboard, but the bleeding didn't stop and I eventually passed out. I didn't wake up until the next morning. I was really thirsty." Harry fidgeted slightly. "I was nine."

Draco pursed his lips in anger and covered the scar in question with his fingers. "I'm going to get rid of it. I'm going to get rid of them all," he avowed fiercely. "By the time I am done with you you'll never be able to tell that they ever touched you."

Harry started at the fierceness and determination he heard and felt from Draco. He didn't even need one hand to count the people he had told bits of his childhood to that had responded similarly. Hermione and the younger Weasleys expressed appropriate indignation over what they knew of Harry's home life but they were all naïve to some extent. They didn't yet truly understand the cruelty some people stooped to, even against children, and never extrapolated what they knew to connect the dots about what else Harry may have suffered. But Draco knew, and seemed quite ready and willing to rip apart the Dursley's piece by abusive piece. Harry could only stare at Draco in amazement and awe, unable to respond.

Draco took this silence as acquiescence and dropped easily into his trance state. He could see the scar; it was similar to the first one he had healed but it was much wider and much deeper. He didn't think pulling would work so well because of the distance, but maybe he could build? But first, the "bridge" needed to go so that he could easily see all the layers that needed work. Draco put up the purple flame around the edges and started to dissolve the scar. Several moments later, as he was dissolving a deeper layer of the "bridge", Draco noticed that the skin no longer next to a scar appeared to be bleeding. In a panic, he imagined stone walls next to the skin and the bleeding stopped, but now what? Deciding upon a plan, Draco made the purple flame creeping so it would expand over the healthy skin as he dissolved the scar. Draco slowly dissolved the stone retaining walls, pleased when his idea seemed to work. Dissolving the rest of the scar, Draco looked into the "canyon," seeing the multiple layers of skin through the purple flames, like how the muggle books had described, as different strata of earth. The floor of the canyon was the white of bone.

Noticing a small nick in the bone, Draco imagined the surrounding bone growing and filling in the gap. Finishing that small task, he looked towards the lowest stratum and encouraged it to grow. It took some time but eventually the stratum was completely filled in and seamless and he looked towards the next. Draco noticed it was increasingly difficult to grow the layers as he progressed; it was as if the necessary building blocks weren't close to hand and the magic had to seek out sufficient material from farther and farther away. Maybe he shouldn't have dissolved the scar; maybe he could have used it as a material source instead. He would have to try that next time.

Eventually completing his task, Draco pulled himself out of his Healer's trance and moved his fingers away to look at Harry's hand. He almost panicked at the sight of blood but quickly remembered what had happened is his visualization. Leaning back and grabbing his wand from the nightstand, he cast a quick cleaning charm and looked again at Harry's hand. As expected, it was now clear of scars. Draco smiled up at Harry and Harry smiled back.

"That's amazing, Draco," he said softly. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" Draco asked, confused. "Fine. Shouldn't I be asking you?"

"I didn't feel a thing. You, however, have been at it for about half an hour now. How are your magics? Do you feel drained? Tired?" Harry asked concerned. He looked Draco over for any signs of distress.

Startled, Draco took a moment to evaluate himself. Shaking his head, Draco said, "A little, maybe. I'd like to keep going, if you don't mind. I thought of something else I want to try."

"All right. How about you work on my right hand until you tire?" Harry said. "I want you to stop after each scar, though, understand? I don't want you suddenly feeling drained because we weren't paying attention." Harry said firmly.

Draco grimaced at being restricted but nodded his acquiescence. He'd learned that tone meant he would be obeying Harry unless he could come up with an excellent counter-argument. And Harry never accepted "I can take care of myself." His response was always "I'm your guardian this week and it's my job to take care of you, not yours." Very annoying, but Harry was correct and Draco knew it. An hour and a half later Harry called a stop, despite Draco's protests.

"Why don't I make it up to you?" Harry offered to his sulking companion.

His interest piqued, Draco asked, "How?"

Harry smiled. "Let's make out. I'm rather good at it," he said.

Draco flushed and stared at Harry silently, feeling desire flaring between them.

"We'll even keep our pants on. Nothing below the waist," Harry said, running a finger lightly down Draco's right arm.

"All right," Draco agreed softly, shivering a bit at the caress.

"Good," Harry murmured as he pulled Draco to him then laid the two of them down, Draco mostly on top so as not to frighten him by getting pinned.

"The lights," Draco stuttered out.

"Oh, I want them on. I love looking at you," Harry replied softly, nuzzling his nose against Draco's cheek.

Some time later, as he lay against Harry and drifting off to sleep, Draco had to admit that leaving the lights on might have been a good idea. Once he'd become bold enough he had rather enjoyed seeing the effects of his explorations on Harry's reactions. Plus, it had been arousing to watch Harry practically worship his torso with lips and tongue and hands. He'd had no idea that his belly was so sensitive.

Chapter 10 - Thursday, 17 October 1996

"Damn it, Harry!" Draco yelled.

"Sheesh, Draco. Calm down, will you?" Harry replied, sitting calmly in the middle of the bed.

"Calm down? Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down when you're cutting yourself right in front of me?" Draco demanded stridently.

"It's not a bad cut, for Merlin's sake. If you want to try and heal it, you're going to have to calm down first," Harry insisted calmly. "Take a few deep breaths, all right? Then give it try."

Because he knew Harry wouldn't allow him to attempt any Healing until he did indeed calm down, Draco closed his eyes and worked to control his breathing. It was hard when the image of Harry's arm bleeding profusely all over the towel was forefront in his mind. Less than a minute later Draco was able to regain his composure and reached for Harry's arm. Less than a minute after that Draco dropped Harry's arm and glared at the other boy, his agitation still quite apparent.

"Not a bad cut, my arse!" Draco said waspishly.

"It wasn't. Not in comparison to some of the other ones I've gotten, anyway," Harry replied reasonably, vanishing the blood and towel with a quick spell.

Draco merely hissed at the other boy, still seething but unable to contradict the claim. Draco was familiar with, well, what used to be all of Harry's scars and some of them had indeed been much deeper.

"So, was it different being a fresh cut rather than a scar?" Harry asked curiously, completely unconcerned about Draco's temper tantrum.

Draco flushed slightly and looked away, not answering.

Harry snorted and said, "I'll take that as a "Yes, Harry, it was different but I don't want to say so because then it would mean you had a valid point for cutting yourself like that." So, how was it different?"

"It wasn't different enough," Draco bit out.

"How was it different?" Harry asked again.

Still looking away, Draco answered tersely, "There was a sense of urgency instead of a sense of being able to take all the time I wanted. I didn't have a "bridge" to dissolve. Other than that, it was the same. Don't do it again."

Harry stopped at Draco's tone and really looked at the other boy. He was upset. Very upset by the looks of it. A lot more upset than Harry had anticipated or had acknowledged. And the bond was practically humming with distress. Maybe he had gone a bit far?

"All right. I won't. I promise. I'm sorry," Harry said softly, sincerely. "I really thought it was important. I thought it would be better for you to see if there were any major differences now, in a controlled and safe environment, then at a time when it might be an emergency. I really didn't mean to upset you so much. I'm really sorry. Forgive me? Please?"

Draco closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around himself. A moment later he nodded hesitantly. He believed Harry - knew that Harry had done it to help him learn about his Gift - but he still felt a bit sick at the memory of Harry bleeding on the towel. He felt Harry shift on the bed then Harry's arms go around him and Draco leaned into the support and laid his head on the offered shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Harry said again softly. "Let's stop for the afternoon, all right? You can work on my scars again after supper if you want, all right?"

"All right. I want to. You still have a lot of scars and I want to get rid of all of them," Draco replied equally softly.

"You don't have to get rid of all of them this week, you know," Harry said with amusement.

Draco shrugged, not taking his head from Harry's shoulder. "Maybe not, but I think I can. I'm getting better each time I fix one. Faster. Besides," Draco raised his head and grinned at Harry, "think of all the extra energy you'll have if you don't have to waste it on a glamour all the time."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I suppose."

Draco smirked back. "I have suggestions on what you ought to do with all this…extra energy."

Harry smirked back. "Oh? Is that so? And just what might they be?"

"Well," Draco said, looking mildly insulted, "are you or are you not teaching me other things, hmmm?"

"Well, yes," Harry agreed with a small smile.

"Well, then, you can hardly give me proper instruction if you're not giving me your full attention because you're tired, now can you?" Draco demanded.

"I guess not," Harry said, desperately trying not to grin at Draco's play.

"Then the glamours must go," Draco said pompously, "which means the scars must go which means you'll be letting me work on you again tonight."

Chuckling, Harry replied, "I suppose so, then."

"Good. Now, though, since you've called a halt to this afternoon's Healing activities, we'll have to do something else interesting," Draco said slyly, tilting his head closer to Harry's so their lips almost brushed.

"Oh?" Harry breathed. Damn, the boy was hot when he got it in his mind to explore sex.

"Yes. Why don't we see if any of those activities we did in the shower this morning can be done equally well in this bed? Hmmm?" Draco said, pushing Harry backwards onto the bed.

Draco woke to the sensation of his hair being absently twirled, tugged, and stroked. Harry really seemed to like playing with the long white locks. Not that Draco was complaining. He didn't move from his position of lying half on Harry, left leg tangled between Harry's and left arm lying across Harry's torso gripped lightly by Harry's right hand, but did let Harry know he was awake by lightly stroking Harry's side. Harry responded with a silent squeeze of Draco's arm but for the most part seemed quite content to be a pillow.

Finally, Draco spoke softly, "I thought I was done with these naps."

"Yeah?" Harry said with an amused contentment.

"Yes. I didn't take one yesterday," Draco said, slightly bemused, wondering how long he was going to need extra sleep.

"I know. It's probably why you took one today. The last vestiges of your exhaustion plus we've…been more active…today," Harry said with a bit of a smug smile.

Draco grinned and sat up. "Yes." Giving Harry a contemplative look, he said, "You know, before you distracted me…"

"I distracted you?" Harry said indignantly.

Snickering, Draco continued, "Yes, as I was saying, before you distracted me earlier I came across something in that muggle alternative healing book you're having me read. It was about how to correct your eyesight. I thought I might try it on you if you're willing. That way you can get rid of those awful glasses."

Harry dropped his mock scowl and raised his eyebrows in surprised interest. "Really? What was it? Even if it works I'd still keep my glasses, I think. It would be an unknown advantage against enemies and all that."

Draco nodded in agreement. "True. You need a better style though," he said firmly, appeased when Harry nodded in assent. "It said that bad vision, not otherwise caused by cataracts or disease or injury, is caused by the muscles in the eyes being either too tight or too loose. I thought I'd see if I could sense that in your eyes and try to correct it. If that's all right?" he asked nervously. Asking to mess with someone's eyes wasn't to be taken lightly.

Intrigued, Harry nodded his consent. "As long as you're awake enough to concentrate."

Draco nodded and positioned himself behind Harry, lifting Harry's head into his lap. Closing his eyes, Draco placed his hands over Harry's eyes and dropped into a trance.

Several hours later an aggravated guardian was pushing a somewhat dazed Healer back into a pile of pillow. "What were you thinking! You should have stopped before you got this tired!" Harry's alarm and worry caused the admonishment to come out harshly.

"I figured I could handle it," Draco protested feebly, already knowing that Harry wasn't going to accept his statement and would likely become even more angry for pushing himself without permission or supervision.

"You figured you could handle it! I don't care if you figured you could handle it! Have I or have I not told you to stop when you're tired? That I don't want you pushing your Gift too far too fast? That there is plenty of time to work on things later? That you don't have to do everything this week? That it will take months or years for you to fully develop your Gift? That that is normal and expected and otherwise fine!" Harry demanded caustically, indeed angry at his disobedient charge.

Draco winced at Harry's furious tirade. "I didn't want to stop in the middle," he offered lamely, knowing that this excuse would also be unacceptable.

"I don't care," Harry hissed out. "No more healing tonight," he added crossly.

"But your scars…," Draco started only to be interrupted by a still furious guardian.

"Can wait," Harry said through gritted teeth.

Draco swallowed nervously and nodded quickly at that tone. He remained silent, staring and picking at the duvet, as Harry spent the next several minutes in highly agitated pacing at the foot of the bed. The ire he could feel over the bond kept Draco from appreciating the view; Harry hadn't bothered to redress after their earlier intimacy.

Eventually Harry stopped and gave a gusty sigh. After several deep breaths, Harry said in a much calmer, though still quite firm, tone, "You are staying in bed the rest of the night. I'll get supper." He set action to words and went to the food box to pick out a meal and brought it back to the bed, completely missing Draco's nodded compliance.

Draco sat up and accepted the box without protest, opening it to find a creamy pasta dish. Taking the subsequently offered fork, Draco ventured tentatively, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry."

Harry sighed, still agitated. "Draco. I don't want you to push too hard this week. You know why. It's not necessary. I'm not going to abandon you once we go back to the school. I promise. We'll work together on your stamina in the coming months. I don't want you to hurt yourself. All right? I worry."

"I know," Draco said contritely. He really didn't like it when Harry was angry at him. He heard another sigh from Harry and then felt a hand cup his chin, urging him to look up into Harry's concerned eyes.

"I forgive you," Harry said softly. "I know you want to explore and try different things with your Gift. Just…try not to do that again, all right?"

Draco nodded with a small smile and concentrated on his food. Supper progressed silently, as usual, and the atmosphere slowly altered from tense to companionable.

As Harry was walking back to the bed after disposing of the dishes, Draco was able to appreciate a nude Harry and asked curiously, "So, did it work?"

Harry stopped abruptly, taken aback that he hadn't bothered to notice if Draco's labor had borne fruit. Moving his gaze to the far wall, Harry's face took on an expression of astonished wonder when he could clearly make out the scene in the tapestry that hung there. "I…yes. Yes, it worked."

Draco grinned happily. "That's great! We'll have to go outside soon and determine just how far you can see."

"Sure," Harry said. Laughing in delight, Harry looked around the room with a brilliant smile. "This is great! I've never been able to see this well!"

A few minutes later Harry turned to find Draco still smiling at him. "Thank you," he said, the deep sincerity obvious in his voice.

"You're welcome," Draco said softly, glad he could give Harry something that seemed to mean as much to him as the Presentation meant to Draco. "Now," he said snootily, "let's snuggle and talk."

Harry laughed at Draco's antics and eagerly crawled back onto the bed and positioned himself appropriately. Draco snuggled himself into Harry's arms comfortably and decided to ask another question about Harry's transition. He figured after the earlier emotional outburst, a full stomach, and a warm snuggle, that Harry might not get too upset about his nosiness.

"I've been wondering. You didn't have a transition partner so how did you keep from tearing yourself apart?" Draco asked curiously. "I know you can't use magical restraints during transition because it disrupts the absorption of the new magic."

Harry stiffened slightly then relaxed and gave a rueful snort. "I should have anticipated that you would ask about that. Well, to answer your question, that involved something else highly complicated that I had to learn."

"What?" Draco asked, his curiosity piqued even more. The time ritual had been a fascinating bit of magic. What else had Harry done?

"To keep me from tearing myself apart during transition, Salazar taught me how to make clay golems," Harry said casually.

"Golems! Those are incredibly difficult and take a lot of magic," Draco said with amazement. "Not to mention they're illegal without Ministry sanction," he added wryly, glancing up at Harry.

"Are they? I didn't check," Harry stated, a smile flitting across his face.

"Yes, quite," Draco drawled, amused at Harry's utter lack of concern about the legalities of his actions.

"Hmmm. Well, they were very basic golems. No facial features, no muscular definition. They were just a couple of heavy bodies with hands to hold me down."

"You were held down by golems? That's awful!" Draco both looked and sounded horrified.

"Yes, it was. But it was the only thing we could think of that would both keep me from tearing myself apart and also be able provide basic care for a few days. So that's what we did," Harry stated emotionlessly, the memory not a pleasant one.

Draco furrowed his brow. "They don't count as magical restraints?"

Harry shook his head. "Not anymore than another wizard does. The magic runs through them, just like in a real person, but they clay is there; it's not conjured.

"Hmmm. Interesting." And it was, even if Draco figured he would pass on learning how to create one. "How did you keep them working while in transition? They're supposed to need near constant supervision."

"Hogwarts is a fine lady. Very under-appreciated," Harry stated matter-of-factly.

Blinking in incomprehension then narrowing an eye in slight irritation at Harry's cryptic answer and amused countenance, Draco asked, "Just what does that mean, exactly?"

Harry smiled mischievously. "Hogwarts is semi-sentient. If asked in the proper way, she can do many things, like manage golems for a few days."

"Really?" Draco asked, astonished. He'd heard rumors about Hogwarts being sentient, of course. Everyone had. But as far as he knew nobody had been able to offer up proof.

Harry nodded. "Yes. As long as what you're asking isn't too complicated."

"How do you ask her to do something?" Draco asked, fascinated by this revelation.

Harry furrowed his brow in thought for a moment then answered slowly, "You have to be able to picture, very clearly, exactly what you want her to do. If you want to know more than that, you'll have to ask Salazar."

Draco raised his eyebrows as "ask Salazar" was, yet again, a response to one of his questions. "Salazar has taught you a lot of secrets about the school, hasn't he?" he asked intently, watching Harry's expression.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco's intense regard and nodded. "Yes. There is a reason, though. Unfortunately, you'll have to…"

"Ask Salazar," Draco finished with rueful amusement.

Harry snickered. "Yes. Sorry."

Draco shook his head in mock exasperation. "That's all right. I'll put it on my list of questions for him. You will bring me back down to talk to him, won't you?" he asked eagerly.

"Yes, given Salazar's permission," he replied. At Draco's concerned look, he added reassuringly, "I'm pretty sure he'll agree. As long as you promise not to reveal what goes on down here, that is."

"Yes, of course," Draco said dismissively. Really, he would never endanger an opportunity like this!

Harry nodded, understanding Draco's unstated opinion easily. "Now, it's my turn for a question."

"All right," Draco said, rubbing his cheek on Harry's chest.

"How do you think your friends and family are going to react to your Gift? You said before that your father wouldn't be happy," Harry said, his own curiosity and nosiness encouraging this particular question.

Draco grimaced. "My mother will be delighted because it will increase her social status to have a Gifted child but will otherwise be indifferent. My sire will put on a pleased face and tell everyone how proud he is. Privately, though, he's going to be upset that I didn't get an offensive Gift. And, he'll want me to use my Gift only for his Lord," he added darkly.

Harry gave a grimace of his own. "We'll address that when we have to," he said, well aware from Draco's letter that Draco had absolutely no interest in serving Voldemort.

Draco sighed and pressed his forehead to Harry's chest, using Harry's scent and presence to block the despair that welled up anytime he thought of how Lucius would do whatever he felt necessary to get his heir to follow in his footsteps. "All right," he said softly.

"So, then, what about your godfather?" Harry asked, ignoring Draco's turmoil, knowing the other boy didn't want to talk about it.

Draco lifted his head and smiled. "Severus will be ecstatic for me!" Draco declared.

"Somehow, I'm having trouble picturing that expression on Snape's face," Harry said dryly and was rewarded with a surprised bout of laughter from Draco.

"Well, he certainly won't show it much in front of everybody," Draco said with a smirk. "I'll be able to tell, though. I know him very well," he asserted.

"I'm sure," Harry replied with his own smirk. "Your friends?"

Draco looked away and answered sadly, "I don't have friends, really. Just guards and admirers and hangers-on."

Harry was silent a moment, not sure how to respond. "That must be lonely," he said eventually, meaning it.

"Yes," Draco admitted softly. "It's another reason I wanted to be friends with you so badly."

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly and hugged Draco close. "You have me now."

"It's all right. I wasn't totally alone. I had Severus. He's always been there for me," Draco replied, putting on a brave front that Harry saw through immediately. A father, as good as he may be, was not the same as a friend.

"How about these others, then?" Harry asked, dropping the painful subject. "I imagine Pansy's going to be livid but what about everyone else?"

Draco snorted. "I don't give a damn about Pansy. How I wish I could have been anywhere else than cooped up with that simpering twit for a week," he said with revulsion.

Harry smiled. "And everyone else?"

"Ah, I don't care," Draco waved a hand. Closing his eyes and once again relaxing into Harry's warmth, he added, "The guards, meaning Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini, will be instructed to either be ingratiating and/or to not let me alone with anyone, most especially you. Nott will likely try to contract for my services; he's very practical and several of his relatives were injured in the last war. The girls, except Pansy, who will be beyond livid, will all be fawning over me so as to try and interest me in considering them for marriage. What about yours?"

Harry gave a small shrug. "I'm sure you could predict their reactions as well as I could."

Draco huffed. "Let me guess. Granger will lecture you about irresponsibility and Weasley will go absolutely ballistic and rant and rave about the evilness of Slytherins and how could you betray your House like that. I hope he doesn't make a fuss at the Presentation," he said worriedly. "Did you actually invite him?"

Harry grimaced and said, "Yes. I was rather reluctant, true, but he's an upperclassman. If we're lucky, maybe he won't come."

"I should be so lucky," Draco sighed, knowing he'd be seeing the hothead at the Presentation.

"Yeah, sorry," Harry agreed glumly. "I invited the twins, too, and included with their invitation a note asking them to keep Ron in check. Hopefully they'll threaten him polite."

Draco blinked in surprise. "The twins? Why?" he asked, perplexed. There really wasn't any reason for them to be invited to Draco's Presentation. Harry's maybe…

Harry hesitated, then answered, "Partly for me, I admit. I could use some support from all the people who are going to be displeased with me. But also for you. Their business has grown faster than any other in the last twenty years and in less than six months they already have supply contracts with Practically Humorous in America and Paige's Plaisanteries in France and have entered talks with some place in Greece that I can't remember the name of. They're up and coming businessmen with the potential of worldwide contacts. They're making quite the stir in the business world and if their last name wasn't Weasley it's likely no one would think twice about their attendance at your Presentation."

Nodding in thought, Draco asked, "You won't mind, will you, if I bring that information up when they come to greet us? It will justify their presence and it certainly won't hurt them."

"No, of course not," Harry said.

"Good. Back to the Weasel. Do you think he'll make a scene?" Draco asked worriedly.

Harry bit his lip and really thought about it. "I don't know," he answered finally. "It's a Presentation so he might be on his best behavior. On the other hand, it won't have been long enough for him to calm down about the situation. The twins will threaten him but he'll be jealous of you. So…I don't know. We'll see. Maybe the sheer number of people there will keep him civil."

Pulling away from Harry and sitting up, he turned to the other boy with a quizzical expression. "He'll be jealous of me? Because of my Gift? Or because I'm with you?"

Harry crossed his legs and put his wrists on his knees. "Yes, yes and yes." At Draco's raised eyebrow, Harry elaborated, "He'll be jealous of your Gift despite knowing that only one out of three or four hundred wizard-kind become Gifted. I'm sure a lot of people will be jealous of you for that and although Ron's jealousy might burn a bit brighter than average in that regard it's nothing really out of the ordinary. Primarily, he'll be jealous because you're with me."

"Is he really that possessive?" Draco asked in concern.

Harry nodded. "What else does he have but a claim to Harry Potter to hold up to his family as his own? Bill has an exciting curse-breakers job with Gringott's that lets him explore dangerous tombs and Charlie has his dragons. Percy, despite being a git and mostly ignored by Fudge, has his ambitions and is really quite competent. The twins have their very successful business and Ginny is the one and only girl. What does he have?"

Draco stared at Harry with a distant look for several moments while he processed what Harry had said. "So, what you're saying, is that all of his idiocy over the years stems from a general feeling of insecurity?" Draco asked.

Harry shrugged and nodded. "Not all of it. There's still a bit of a temper there and a nice helping of ingrained prejudices but, yes, a lot of it. He sees me, instead of himself, as what makes him unique. Until he finds a focus for himself, he'll be jealous of anybody and anything that has claims on my time."

"Surely he must have his own strengths," Draco insisted. He didn't know of any, but then he'd spent the last five plus years avoiding Ronald Weasley.

"Of course," Harry said. "He's actually really good at Care of Magical Creatures but dismisses it because it's Charlie's field. He doesn't think about all the options other than dragons that he could find in that field. Also, I think he'd be good in some kind of sales position. When he forgets to be jealous, he's really quite amiable, fun-loving, and good at idle-conversation and putting people at ease. He likes to be helpful and figure out practical solutions to problems. He's also amazing at chess and could always be a professional player."

"Hmmm," Draco replied noncommittally. It wasn't as if he was going to concern himself any over Weasley's career options. "What about Granger?"

"What about her?" Harry asked, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around his legs.

"How will she react?" Draco asked. Draco figured she would be just as angry as Weasley but that he wouldn't have to worry about her making a commotion at the Presentation and that was his main concern.

Idly tapping a finger, Harry thought for a moment then expounded on his second friend, "Hermione will start out agreeing with Ron about how I should never have trusted you and that I'll regret my impetuosity someday when I find out your real motives. Next she'll scold me like some disobedient toddler for going off somewhere nobody could find without any adult supervision. Then she'll start in on how inconsiderate I was about everybody's feelings by not telling anybody I was leaving at all. Then she'll bring Dumbledore into it and really piss me off."

Draco gave a small huff of amusement and asked suggestively, "What's with her? Does she have a fetish for old men with white beards or something?"

"Ewww! No! That's awful! I'm going to suffer from that image for the rest of my life now, thanks to you!" Harry declared, repulsed at the images inspired by Draco's not-so-innocent question.

Draco merely laughed.

Shaking his head with a look of revulsion, Harry said, "She just has a thing for authority in one form or another and Dumbledore, to her, is the ultimate authority; a wise and powerful wizard fighting for the good of all." Harry ignored Draco's disgusted snort and continued, "All the books she reads are part of it, too. Books are an authority, and authority is right, therefore books are right. She has an amazing memory and can track down information faster than anybody I've seen. But it's just facts. She doesn't really integrate one concept with another and think for herself. She can string facts together to get an answer, but intuition or creativity is completely out of her realm."

Giving Draco a reassuring look, he said, "She won't make a fuss at the Presentation. It would be illogical and she's very much ruled by logic. She'll only break rules if she has a logical justification. Once she understands, logically, why you picked me and that you aren't working for Vol…him, she will support you - us - with all the logic at her command. Which is considerable."

Draco was silent a moment. "I don't know whether I should pity her or not," he said eventually, rolling over in his mind Harry's assessment of the witch.

"Not," Harry replied. "She'll do fine in life. The world needs fact-finders and logic-thinkers and she's a great one. And she's great at organization. I wouldn't be surprised if the Unspeakables tap her for research. She's just…" Harry trailed off, uncertain how to describe Hermione.

"Extreme," Draco offered.

Surprised, Harry agreed, "Yes, that's it. Extreme. She's not a bad person."

"Are you really that great of friends with them?" Draco asked softly. Some of the things Harry had said this week made him wonder.

"No. Yes. I mean…" Harry sighed in annoyance and tried again to get his thoughts out coherently. "I'm friends with them now. They don't always annoy me, you know. They're decent enough to have around for school, better than some other choices. Later, though, after school, I think we'll drift apart fairly quickly. We'll still be old school friends even if we are no longer best friends."

Draco nodded. "I understand. What about the other Gryffindors? And your French friends."

"My French friends will be fine; the name Malfoy brings up thoughts of wealth, power, and elegance in France, not Dark Lords and Death Eaters. You do know that, right?" Harry asked warily.

"Yes," Draco said. "It's why I do all but my school shopping there instead of London. It's much more pleasant when people are worried about you not spending money in their shop instead of being worried about whether or not you're going to hex them," he added wryly.

Harry chuckled at Draco's comment and continued. "Neville will be pleased for me, and for you. He really is a very sweet person. We talk sometimes, about life. He knows a lot of things about me others don't. He'll understand why I agreed and support us. Quietly, but staunchly," Harry said of his friend and sometimes philosophical debate partner.

Draco was surprised with Harry's assessment of Longbottom. He knew the boy was quiet but would stand firm if pressed but otherwise knew nothing of him. He certainly hadn't realized that Harry trusted him more than anyone else in his House. "Huh. Well, maybe I'll give him a second look," he said mildly.

"I'm not friends friends with the rest of my year-mates but there is Ginny Weasley," Harry went on. "She's not a friend so much but she is Ron, Fred, and George's sister. She also has a crush on me that she's had since before even coming to school. She says she's over it but I know she's not. My guess is she'll ask me to be her transition partner and will be absolutely devastated when I refuse."

"You'll refuse?" Draco said, looking up at Harry in shock. Most people didn't refuse an offer of transition partner.

Harry winced. He stretched his legs out and leaned back once again into his stack of pillows. "Yes. I'm not looking forward to it, I assure you, and I've been trying to dissuade her interest in me but I don't think it's working well. She's nice enough, I suppose, but I'm just not interested in her. Not as a lover, not as a wife, not even really as a friend. There are just not a lot of common interests between us. Why would I tie myself to her?" Harry questioned rhetorically.

Draco looked seriously at Harry. "That's going to be a mess," he said gravely.

Harry winced again. "I know."

"What about Fred and George? You mentioned them," Draco asked, following Harry's example and once again getting comfortable.

Harry paused. "They'll be happy for us just like Neville. They'll be more vocal about their support, though," he said.

Draco gave a small sound of agreement and waited; he could tell there was more about them that Harry was trying to figure out how to say.

Harry reached out and took Draco's hand and said softly, "The bond's not nearly as strong as ours but I was their transition partner."

Draco stiffened in shock and spluttered out, "But…you…you're younger! You were, what?"

"Thirteen and a half," Harry supplied.

"Why?" Draco asked, still shocked. Choosing someone younger than fifteen was rather frowned upon.

"They didn't have anybody they were really interested in, either. And they wanted someone who was willing to partner them both, at the same time. They didn't want to be separated during their transition, even though their parents had arranged it like that. They wanted to try and synchronize their magics. I overheard them one night contemplating if they would be safe to be by themselves and wondering where they could go. They're average powered wizards, so they might have been able to get through without too much trouble or damage. When I realized they were serious, I offered my services, so to speak," Harry answered calmly. Inside, he was wondering how Draco would take knowing that Harry had other bonds. He hoped Draco wasn't the jealous type.

Draco contemplated that information for a minute before saying, "I guess this is the other things between you that you mentioned before. How did you manage it? Did you bring them here? I don't recall any furor about it. I don't even know when their birthday is."

"It's April first. We did stay here, in the room across the hall and I time-turned back a week so I didn't go missing. They don't know exactly where here is, though, because I blindfolded them both on the way here and on the way back. They didn't mind. They think the room is attached to the Chamber of Secrets somehow. They also believe that I had a simple daily time-turner that I used every night. They left a note for their parents that they had made arrangements to transition with people somewhere outside of Hogwarts that was secure and not to worry about them. Arthur and Molly were upset but they didn't have reason to send up a ruckus," Harry replied, glad to note that Draco seemed more curious than anything.

"What's the bond like with them? And did they succeed in synchronizing their magics? That hasn't been done successfully in…I don't know…a couple hundred years, maybe." Draco asked, amazed and curious, well aware of Harry's relief at his agreeable response to the bonds with the Weasley twins.

Harry blessed the definite curiosity he felt and answered, "One hundred seventy two years. And, yes, they were successful. Don't tell anyone, all right?" Harry requested seriously.

Draco shook his head. "I won't," he promised sincerely, instantly understanding the dangers of such a secret getting out to the wrong, or even the "right," sort of people. It was an amazing feat. Synchronized twins could gestalt their magics, casting single spells that could be up to triple the power of their combined strength. Synchronization was considered a Gift in and of itself and was as highly sought after as any other Gift. The wards at Malfoy Manor had been set by one such set of synchronized twins.

"Why didn't they have a Presentation, then? And what about your bonds?" Draco asked again, still curious. "What are they like?"

"They didn't want one. I offered but they said they would rather keep it, and incidentally my involvement, a secret. They were quite adamant about it so I just agreed and told them to let me know if they ever did want one," Harry replied. He figured that the twins would never want a Presentation but that they would end up agreeing to one once the war was over. The twins had wanted to synchronize their magics so that they could better protect themselves, their families, their future store and its surroundings, and whatever innocent bystanders they could when war came. They had believed Voldemort would return and they would see war ever since Harry's confrontation with Voldemort in front of the Mirror of Erised; a belief that was strengthened when Ginny was possessed and validated when Voldemort was resurrected. They all knew, though never spoke of it, that it was more likely than not that their synchronization would be discovered at some point during the war. At that point there would be no point in not holding a Presentation.

"As for the bond," Harry continued easily, breaking himself from his musings, "It's more like an empathic sense when we are close, in the same room, say. I can tell if they're healthy and how they're feeling. But farther away I can't really tell much about them unless they are in physical pain or emotional distress."

"Interesting," Draco replied, suppressing a yawn. "Do you have any other bonds?" He would like to know just whom he was sharing Harry with.

"No. Just them. You?" Harry asked, his thoughts unknowingly echoing Draco's as he wondered with whom he was sharing the other boy.

"Not really," Draco replied. "I partnered Pansy but there isn't a bond between us. Or, at least, not enough of one to blink at. There wasn't enough power there." Draco suppressed another yawn.

Harry ruthlessly suppressed his feelings of pleased possessiveness at Draco's answer and asked, "Tired? We can go to bed early if you like."

"Yes, I'm tired, but I don't want to go to sleep yet. If you don't want to talk anymore, maybe I could read for a while," Draco mused.

"Do you want your book?" Harry asked, remembering the book he had chosen for Draco that morning.

"Yes, please," Draco responded then asked tentatively, knowing he was still on probation despite their pleasant conversation, "Will you let me up to pick another one? I'm almost done with that one."

"All right," Harry agreed reluctantly after a short pause. "Just a few minutes." He rose and went to fetch their respective books, keeping an eye on his charge.

Draco nodded and got up to go to the stacks of muggle books piled neatly behind the settee. He wanted something else on "alternative healing." The A to Z Guide to Alternative Medicine by Mike Rogers Harry had given him this morning had been interesting but it was quite broad with simple explanations. He wanted something more in depth that he could sink his teeth into. Spotting a likely book, he grabbed it and went back to the bed. He was not going to tempt Harry's resolve about being out of bed; he figured it was solid steel.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco's choice but said nothing as he rejoined Draco on the bed. They read companionably for several hours, occasionally talking about what they were reading, until deciding to retire for the evening.

Chapter 11 - Friday, 18 October

Draco looked up from his reading when a blanket was placed over his lower legs. Raising an eyebrow, he merely watched as the navy cashmere was tucked in around his bare feet. Protesting would get him nowhere, after all; Harry really had some kind of fixation about keeping Draco warm. Watching Harry curl up on the opposite settee with another luxurious looking blanket, Draco decided to ask about it. The worst Harry could do was tell him to mind his own business.

"Harry?" Draco called.

"Yes?" Harry replied, looking up attentively. That tone of voice meant Draco wanted to start a conversation.

"Why are you so concerned about keeping me warm all the time?" Draco asked curiously. As Harry's body stiffened and his face closed off, Draco added hastily, "Were you cold during your own transition?"

Harry turned his face towards the fire and forced himself to relax before answering. "I was, yes, though that's not why, really." Pausing before deciding to plunge ahead, Draco knew about the Dursley's treatment, after all, he stated flatly, "I only had a single light blanket at the Dursley's. Rain or shine. High summer or mid-winter, it didn't matter. I had the one disintegrating blanket and was told to be glad for it. I also had very few clothes and an overcoat I wasn't allowed to take from the entryway coat rack. I piled what clothes I had around me but I was still almost always cold at night. I grew to hate the cold, though I can tolerate it better than most anyone."

Draco clenched his hands around his book and took a deep breath. His disgust at Harry's muggle relatives just kept growing by leaps and bounds. "Have you ever considered giving their address to the Dark Lord?" he asked, really quite serious.

Harry jerked in surprise and stared at Draco a moment before giving a short, sharp laugh. "I have, actually, though I'd never do it," Harry said with amusement.

"Why not? Surely if there were any muggles that deserve the Dark Lord's attention, it would be them?" Draco asked. He'd forward the address on himself if he could get hold of it…

"Maybe," Harry said and shrugged. "Really, though, I'd rather just forget they exist."

"You can't just leave it at that," Draco protested. "You deserve some decent vengeance, at the very least."

Harry's lips quirked as he watched Draco get worked up over the Dursley's. "What would you have me do? I'm not really into the whole torture bit."

"Well, you could subject them to something much, much worse than a simple torturous death from our current evil wizard," Draco said with such gleeful spite that Harry was shocked speechless for a moment.

Harry put aside his book and gazed at his companion suspiciously. "What?" Harry asked. He couldn't imagine what evil fate would put such a look upon Draco's face if it wasn't the rousing bouts of torture and death he'd been advocating previously.

Draco looked Harry over consideringly then gave a wicked grin and said, "It's perfect for the likes of those…things…you call relatives. We could have an absolutely grand time."

Intrigued, Harry nodded. He approved, in theory, of Dursley vengeance. "Sure. As long as we don't get caught."

"Caught?" Draco asked in mock affront. "Why, Harry, caught implies that we would be doing something less than appropriate and I assure you that we would be nothing less than completely civil." Draco shook his head sternly.

"Really," Harry drawled, more intrigued than ever.

"Of course," Draco assured haughtily. "We would simply be enjoying an afternoon tea with your former guardians. Reminiscing about your accomplishments at school, celebrating the recognition heaped upon you from all over Europe for the defeat of the most evilest Dark Lord of all time, because you are going to eliminate that bastard."

Harry blinked at Draco, not understanding at all why this simple plan would have Draco quivering in such obvious malicious delight.

"Of course, we'd have to dress for the occasion. It would be an insult, as I'm sure you'll agree, to dress in anything other than the finest of wizarding robes accented with highly visible and obviously expensive accessories. And that would certainly include your Lord's ring for the House of Potter and my Heir's ring for the House of Malfoy."

Harry's eyes widened as he began to get an idea of where this was going.

"We couldn't arrive in anything other than the best and most spacious horse-drawn carriage," Draco said. "And we'd have to arrive on a beautiful afternoon on a weekend so that the neighborhood will be sure to witness how important the Dursley's must be to be getting such august guests."

Harry started to grin.

"You must be certain to get their advice on where you should live. Merlin knows you will have such difficulties deciding upon which of your many manors you should live in. Maybe they could recommend an interior designer. Perhaps they could also recommend a good financial advisor for your accounts?" Draco tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Or, perhaps, a firm instead? Really, so much money invested in so many ways must surely warrant more than one individual's attention."

Harry lost control of his mirth and started to laugh. Oh, yes, he could do this!

"Of course, I shall be perfectly civil, all the while giving the impression that everything around me is just so splendidly quaint. Delightful, really, but I wouldn't surround myself with such commonness on a daily basis."

Harry gripped his stomach as he continued to laugh hard; the images Draco's words were inspiring were just too funny.

"Perhaps," Draco added with another wicked grin, "we could arrange to arrive on a day when they are entertaining a large group of people? I just love to mix and mingle and charm people, you know. I'm sure I could keep busy meeting all sorts of new and fascinating individuals while you reminisce and converse with your relatives. No need to worry about me." Draco waved a hand negligently.

Finished detailing his hastily created plan, Draco watched as Harry slowly calmed himself. Draco felt quite the sense of smug self-satisfaction over the reaction he'd been able to elicit from his bond-mate. Harry should laugh more often.

Eventually Harry silenced the last of his snickers and stood. Taking the few steps to Draco, he grinned and said, "Petunia always hosts at least one gathering every summer. I'm sure we can arrange to simply…drop in accidentally…on that particular day."

Draco grinned back unrepentantly.

Placing his knees on the settee, Harry leaned over Draco and whispered, "You really are a vicious monster, aren't you?"

Draco would have replied in the affirmative if his lips weren't busy. He'd have to think up more wicked schemes if this was the way Harry would react.

Draco carded his fingers through Harry's hair and let his mind wander. How would the students react? The teachers? Severus? He knew his godfather would be happy for him but he wasn't so sure how he would react to Harry. And Harry. What was going to happen in Harry's life? Would his friends accept their bond? Would his housemates? His other bond-mates? Harry had reassured him that the Weasley twins would be happy for them, but would they be, really? He was, after all, Draco Malfoy, son of the openly secret number one Death Eater Lucius Malfoy, and he was treading on their territory. How could they be happy about the situation?

"Ask," Harry said.

Draco jerked in surprise. "What?"

"I can feel your curiosity. Just ask," Harry said.

"Hmmm. All right," Draco agreed. "The question, however, is just which question I should ask."

"Whichever. Doesn't matter. You keep doing this and I'll answer anything you want," Harry said, referring to the fingers still stroking through his hair. He was boneless, here, draped over Draco on the settee they had slightly abused with their activities earlier.

Draco smiled at the utterly relaxed sound of Harry's voice. "All right. Question one: How come you didn't ask one or both of the Weasley twins to be your transition partner? You seem to have quite a good relationship with them and you had already partnered them."

"Yeah, but I didn't want to marry them," Harry answered drowsily.

Draco blinked and frowned. What? He thought about Harry's answer for a moment then his eyes widened in realization. "Ah. I understand. With the bond from their transition you were afraid that your transition would push it too deep, yes?"

"Yes. They want to bond and marry girls. It would be just my kind of luck that our bond would deepen too far and become exclusionary for all of us," Harry said.

"True enough; you do have the weirdest luck." Draco paused and ran his hand through Harry's hair a couple times. "I'm glad you didn't ask them, then," he admitted softly, "or else we wouldn't have been able to bond."

Harry merely made a vague sound of agreement and contentment.

"Ready for question two?" Draco asked. He'd have to pet Harry's head more often; he was just so cute like this.

"Mm-hmmm."

"What are you going to have me do for my Proving tomorrow?" Draco was a bit concerned about this. He'd like to practice somewhat, if he could.

"Secret," Harry said.

"But…"

"You'll be fine, don't worry. I'd never ask you to do something I wasn't absolutely positive you could handle," Harry said reassuringly.

Draco nodded. He knew that was true. Well, seemed like he'd simply have to trust in his Guardian's instincts about tomorrow. So be it. Hmmm…next question…

"How were you able to go gallivanting about on your summers without getting caught? I'd think that the Headmaster, and probably the Ministry, would have all sorts of trackers on you. I know father has some on me. Which…," Draco stopped and frowned a bit in thought. "We're under Founder's Wards here, right? That's why no one can find us?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "Useful."

"Oh, definitely," Draco agreed wholeheartedly. How could he disagree? The wards had allowed him his entire transition week with his chosen partner. "It still doesn't answer how you got away with traveling the world."

"Secret," Harry mumbled. "Ask Salazar."

Draco snorted. Oh, he'd ask Salazar for certain. He'd ask Salazar a lot of things. And while he was at it he'd make sure that Harry got permission to speak freely because that phrase was really annoying.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled.

Draco shook his head. "It's all right. But that painting and I are having a chat."

Harry made a sound somewhere between a chortle and a giggle but didn't say anything to Draco's bold assertion.

"Do I have to ask Salazar how you were able to go back and forth from your relatives and…wherever else you were playing that week?" Draco asked in annoyance.

"Apparated," Harry said, nuzzling his face into Draco's belly. All this talking was really disruptive to his lazy dozing, despite the fingers still combing through his hair.

Draco raised his eyebrows. Really, now? "And just how long have you been able to do that?"

"Salazar taught me during the last two months of my third year," Harry said. Really, he was going to be completely awake soon.

"Convenient," Draco said, impressed despite himself that Harry had managed to learn that skill at thirteen. Of course, Draco didn't have much he could say about it since he himself had learned to apparate just a few months later during summer holidays. "You can't have apparated, though, to, say, Australia."

"Apparated to France and took a portkey," Harry said.

"Every week?" Draco asked in disbelief. International portkeys were expensive.

"Yes," Harry said.

"More of that basilisk venom?" Draco asked in amusement.

Harry gave another short chortle/giggle. "Yes."

Draco continued his ministrations in silence for several minutes, sending Harry deeper into a relaxed state. He gave some thought to his most vexing question but, yet again, no answer came to him. He didn't think it would upset Harry; he'd only ever felt a sad neutrality when the topic came up. He stroked his fingers through Harry's hair a few more times and softly asked, "Why don't you hate Dumbledore?"

"Huh? Why would I?" Harry asked in confusion, his mind once again coming up from a doze.

"Well, I don't know, Harry," Draco replied scathingly. "Maybe because he left you with those…people? Maybe because he keeps sending you back to them? Maybe because he tried to steal your key? Maybe because he tried to control your transition not to mention your life? Take your pick."

"Hmmm. Well. S'complicated," Harry replied.

"It's still morning," Draco said.

"He's old," Harry mumbled.

Draco froze in surprise, only restarting his attentions to Harry head when the dark haired boy shifted and made a discontented sound. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked in disbelief.

"He's old. He's tired. He's frightened. Grindelwald hurt him," Harry said.

Draco was silent for several minutes. "Harry," he said softly, "I'm not putting any of this together. I don't understand what you're saying."

Harry sighed and dragged his consciousness up a couple levels. "He's an old man and tired. I think he'd like nothing better than to pass on except that there's nobody to take his place. Not here at the school and not against Voldemort. Sorry. So he stays and does his best. And one of the things he's trying to ensure is that the Dark Lord doesn't win."

Draco shook his head in confusion. "What does that have to do with the way he treats you?"

"He's frightened I'll turn to the Dark Lord," Harry said.

"What!" Draco exclaimed. "Why would he think that!" Shocked did not even begin to describe Draco's feeling about that ridiculous statement.

Harry groaned and pulled away from Draco and scooted to the opposite end of the settee. Settling the cashmere blanket over both their feet, Harry resigned himself to a likely argument. Draco watched, scowling.

"He doesn't think that," Harry said.

"You just told me…," Draco started.

"He's frightened I'll turn to him, or would have turned to him if he hadn't intervened and didn't keep an eye on me," Harry said.

Draco pursed his lips then said, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Draco…"

"It doesn't," Draco said flatly. "It's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."

"You have…"

"I knew he was senile, but really, this is over the top," Draco ranted.

"Can you use a telephone?" Harry asked quickly before Draco could draw another breath to continue.

Draco snapped his mouth shut at the non sequitur. "What?" he said, confused.

"It's a simple question," Harry said. "Can you use a telephone? I bet not. Take the proper bus to get to a cinema or grocers? Live in a muggle house? No, of course not. Without access to magic and the wizarding world you'd probably be dead in a month."

Draco kicked Harry's shin furiously. "Fuck you, Potter! I would not!"

Harry yelped and pulled his legs away from a now fuming Draco. Harry looked at his grossly offended bond-mate in trepidation; he'd obviously stepped on something.

"For you information," Draco began angrily, "I am perfectly capable of comporting myself properly amongst muggles. I know how to use a phone and a phone book. I am familiar with and have used various modes of muggle transportation. I have lived in a muggle house for two months without using magic and survived unscathed."

Oh, now Harry understood. Obviously some of Draco's education had been not-so-standard for a pureblood of high station. And if there was one thing he knew about Draco even before this week it was that he took great offense if someone insulted his intelligence. Harry was really in for it.

"I know perfectly well how to use muggle money and how to do household shopping. I know how to dress without looking like some fashion-challenged idiot. I've watched television and can change the channels. I even know how to cook! I can use a stove and a blender and a toaster and a microwave, for Merlin's sake! I am not some ignorant rube!" Draco loudly continued his rant.

Harry winced. Oh, yes, he'd stepped in it all right. Draco was mad. "I'm sorry," he said and meant it. He really hadn't meant to insult Draco.

"I don't take Muggle Studies because I don't need it, not because of some ill-begotten prejudices held by my father!"

"I'm sorry!" Harry said again. He hurriedly continued when he saw Draco draw in another breath, "I didn't mean to offend you, I swear. Most purebloods don't know any of that. Same thing for the half-bloods that are raised in wizarding culture. That was the point I was trying to make. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry. All right? I'm sorry. Please, let me explain?"

Draco glared balefully at Harry but remained quiet, still fuming.

Harry realized he was still in a bit of hot water but felt encouraged by Draco's silence. Running a hand through his hair, he decided to approach his explanation from a slightly different angle. "You were asking me about the Headmaster and why I don't hate him. It's because I understand his actions for the most part." Sighing in frustration, he asked, "Look. Do you think that the wizarding and muggle worlds should be integrated? That muggles should be told about us?"

"No!" Draco blurted out, horrified. "They'd destroy us!"

Harry nodded in agreement. "Yes, probably. Not right away, likely, and not outright. A lot of them would be fine with us and try to work together to make a better world. But there are always the extremists and opportunists. And because the muggles are so much more numerous than us, their extremists and opportunists outweigh our entire population. Wizards and witches would be kidnapped and made into slaves, or experimented on, or tortured, or whatever. Only the lucky ones would be killed outright. Eventually, the remaining populace would have to go into even deeper hiding than we are in right now."

"Yes, so?" Draco said defiantly.

"So," Harry said, "there's a really good reason for wizard-kind to be wary of muggles. That wariness, with just a few negative incidents, can easily turn to fear, to resentment, to anger, to hate. Yes?"

Draco nodded. "And?"

"And what if I'd been raised here?" Harry asked.

"Then you wouldn't have been abused by those vile creatures and wouldn't…" Draco started only to be interrupted.

"Maybe I would hate muggles," Harry said.

Draco blinked. "What?"

"Just think about it. Here I am, all rich and famous, living blithely amongst magic and all my adoring fans that will do anything for me. A few bad experience here, several rude muggles there, a bit of ignorance and lots of cultural prejudice, and presto, one muggle-hating wizard at your service."

Draco stilled then nodded reluctantly. "Maybe," he said.

"Why, I just might have up and said "Yes, sir, Mister Dark Lord, sir, I hate muggles, too. Can I join you and get that pretty tattoo and help wipe them out? Thank you, sir, you're so wonderful." Can't you see that happening? At all? It's really not that far-fetched of an idea," Harry said earnestly.

Draco nodded again. "Maybe."

"And then what would happen?" Harry asked seriously.

Draco looked at Harry gravely. "There would have been no stopping the two of you."

Harry nodded. "Yes. At least, not very easily. And in our rampage we would have announced our presence to the muggles and the muggles, in defense, would have declared war against us. How is this a good outcome? For anyone?"

"So he placed you with muggles so you didn't travel that path," Draco said. Yes, he could see that logic. But to place Harry with muggles like that?

"Yes. And I think he lets Snape harass me so I know not everyone loves me. And, like I said, I think he tried to keep my key so I didn't start buying my way through life." Harry stopped a moment and grimaced. "And, as much as it pains me to admit it, I think he really did have good intentions when he arranged for me to transition with Shacklebolt. My guess is that he wanted me to have a mentor that was firmly on the side of light and could keep me from falling to the temptations of power."

"That doesn't explain why he sent you to them," Draco protested. "If anything, it would encourage you to hate all muggles."

"It does if he believes they love me," Harry countered.

"How can he possibly believe that?" Draco burst out. "Those people are rabid! They should be put out of everyone else's misery!"

"Draco," Harry groaned.

"No," Draco said. "I want to know why you don't hate him for sending you to those beasts."

"You're insulting beasts everywhere," Harry said.

"Don't evade the subject," Draco said sternly. "Tell me."

Harry ruffled his hair and gazed at Draco thoughtfully. Eventually, Harry came to the conclusion that it would probably actually be a good thing if Draco understood Harry's thoughts about the Headmaster a bit more. He propped an elbow on the back of the settee and rested his chin on his fist. "All right. Let me just give the caveat that I don't know any of this for certain; it's just what I think might have happened, what might be going on."

"Fine," Draco said shortly, rearranging the disheveled blanket over both their bare feet.

"Everyone knows Dumbledore killed Grindelwald. But what else do they know about that incident? What else do you know?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked warily. "Dumbledore hunted down Grindelwald and killed him. While I admit the spells used in their duel would be interesting to know, they really aren't that important."

Harry shrugged. "True. Did you know that Grindelwald had children?" he asked.

"He did? No, I didn't know. But what has…"

"Twin girls age sixteen and a little boy who was only five," Harry said.

"Harry," Draco whined, rubbing his temples.

"They were found dead in the same room as Grindelwald. All three had been tortured to death and the girls had been raped." Draco was startled and Harry went on relentlessly. "Nobody knows by whom or at least nobody's said. It's been hypothesized that it might have been done by their father."

Draco looked sickened.

Harry paused, then continued softly. "Sometimes I wonder if Dumbledore walked in on something. Something bad. Something really, really bad. And just couldn't handle it. I wonder if his mind repressed the memories, repressed them so deeply that they became sublimated into a blind world view that families are always loving towards their own. It would explain so much about his dealings with me and the Dursley's."

"That's awful, Harry," Draco said quietly.

"Yes," Harry said, "but it would explain so much. Sometimes…sometimes I get the impression that he really doesn't understand that the Dursley's are horrible. That he can't understand."

"But, the wards…" Draco protested weakly.

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, the wards are a sticky question. Then I think that maybe he didn't cast them and doesn't know when they are triggered. But then I wonder why he doesn't ask about their status. I don't know Draco, but I don't get bad evil wizard feelings from him. And he does have Fawkes. You can't get a much better character reference than a light creature. So, you know, there you are. That's why I don't hate him."

Draco stared at Harry for a long while then reached for his book. Opening it to his current place, he said, "All right."

"All right?" Harry said in disbelief. "That's it? All right?"

"Yes. All right," Draco said. "I see what you're saying. Don't expect me to start liking him, though."

"Uh, sure," Harry said. He was a bit befuddled by what he perceived as Draco's sudden acquiescence. He remained silent for several minutes and watched Draco read.

"Draco?"

"Yes?" Draco said, looking up.

"How did you learn about muggles anyway?" Harry asked curiously.

"Severus arranged for it. After first year and overhearing a few muggle-born conversations I wanted to know more, so he made arrangements for us to stay with and learn from some schoolteacher he had met once." Draco said.

Harry blinked then furrowed his brow in thought. "I'm going to have to reevaluate that man," he said.

"You do that," Draco said, and stuck his nose back in his book.

Harry was entranced. Draco was once again lying on the bed against a pile of pillows, reading that huge book he'd picked out. He wasn't covered with a blanket and Harry would rectify that situation except then it would block his view of those lovely toes. He wondered if Draco would let him suck on them. Harry didn't enjoy having his own toes sucked, he'd almost kicked Benoît's teeth in reflexively when he'd tried, but he did enjoy returning the favor. And Draco had a lovely set of toes, yes, he did. Harry watched them intently, waiting for any twitch that might possibly be construed as inviting.

Draco looked up, again, from his reading. Harry was looking at him, again, with sex on his mind. If Draco couldn't tell that from the bond, which was singing with a nearly compulsive lust, he would have been able to tell from Harry's tented sleep pants. Oddly, Harry didn't seem aware of his condition, too absorbed in whatever body part of Draco's that he was studying. Draco wondered which part held such fascination.

Draco moved his fingers. Nothing. He turned a page of his book with exaggerated arm movements. Nothing. He reached up and grabbed his braid, bringing it over his shoulder and letting it slide through his grip. Nothing. He lifted the heavy book with one hand and rearranged his pants over his groin. Nothing. Hmmm. He lifted his knee a bit and let his leg fall to the side. A small flash of interest. Draco narrowed his eyes. Surely Harry wasn't staring that lustily at Draco's feet? He flexed a foot. A bigger flash of interest, but still nothing to explain that intensity. Experimentally, watching Harry's face, Draco spread wide the toes of his right foot…and was nearly overwhelmed with a surge of lust through the bond as Harry's nostrils flared.

Right. Toes it was. To each his own, Draco figured. Well, there wasn't any reason for Harry to be sitting at the desk over there when it was obvious he'd rather be slavering over Draco's toes over here. Time to correct the situation.

SLAM!

Harry jumped and nearly fell off his chair as Draco slammed his book shut.

"Harry?" Draco asked sweetly.

"Yes?" Harry replied wide-eyed.

"What time is it?"

Giving Draco a suspicious look, Harry nevertheless reached behind him for his wand. A quick word revealed the time of 4:17.

"Are you waiting for an invitation before pouncing me? Because, if you are, you have it," Draco said.

Harry blinked at Draco's near blatant offer. "I was waiting for dinner," he admitted.

"Why?" Draco asked bluntly. "The bond is singing right now. We've been very good boys and waited all week. I see no reason we should wait for dinner."

"But I ordered a special dinner," Harry said weakly. It was true that the bond was singing between them. In fact, if Draco wasn't careful with what he said he might just find himself under Harry in very short order. Harry was steadily losing the last bits of his control over the compulsion surging in the bond magic.

"Harry," Draco said softly and, oh, that sound sent a frisson of lust throughout Harry's body.

"Yeah?" Harry breathed. Maybe dinner wasn't that important? He could always save it for some other special occasion…

"Forget dinner," Draco said, eyes bright, letting the bond's compulsion rush through him.

Harry inhaled sharply. "Yeah?" he asked.

When Draco nodded, Harry relinquished the last of his control over the bond's magic and stalked over to the gorgeous boy lying so invitingly on the bed.

Neither noticed the thud! of Draco's book falling to the floor.

Chapter 12 - Interlude - Harry's Outing

Harry finished his porridge and watched as Draco finished his own breakfast. Harry could feel Draco's pleasure at the lightly spiced dish; the bond between them was strong and easy to feel. Truthfully, Harry hadn't expected the bond to strengthen as much as it had in response to their intercourse last night, even if it had been the last evening of the transition week. Perhaps it was because they had gone both ways? Or maybe it was because they had both derived equal pleasure from both giving and receiving, no matter the role they'd been in at the time. Or maybe it was just his weird luck. Whatever the reason, the bond was very strong and very solid; he was pleased and knew Draco was as well.

Draco eyed Harry as he ate the last of his breakfast. "I can tell you want to ask me something. So, ask," he said, curious as to why Harry was worried about whatever it was.

Harry smiled in amusement. "I see I'll never be able to get anything past you again." Turning serious, he asked, "Will you be all right if I leave for a couple hours to pick up a few things?"

Draco was somewhat confused as to why Harry was so worried about the question when he remembered he had nearly panicked the last time Harry had asked it. Surprised at the dramatically different reactions, Draco closed his eyes and felt the bond for a few moments. Opening his eyes, he smiled and said, "Yes. I'll be fine. The bond seems to have settled enough for a few hours absence."

"Good," Harry sighed in relief. He could feel the truth of Draco's words through the bond. "I was really starting to worry that I wouldn't be able to get everything in time."

"Where are you going?" Draco asked curiously.

"Tut, tut. I'm not telling you or it'll ruin the surprise. You'll find out in a couple hours," Harry answered, wagging his finger playfully in front of Draco.

Draco slapped the hand away equally playfully. "Fine, fine. I'll wait. I can figure out some of the things at any rate. It is Saturday, after all, and I've yet to see my robes" he said with a sniff.

"I don't doubt it," Harry replied dryly. After he dealt with the breakfast dishes, Harry went to the walk-in closet, grabbed some everyday robes, and got dressed. He watched as Draco went back to the settee and his most recent book: Alternative Medicine: The Definitive Guide by the Burton Goldberg Group. It was a couple years old but was quite comprehensive. And thick. It was over a thousand pages. Draco had been reading it since Thursday night and delighted in telling Harry about all the different theories about how to fix different problems. Harry just looked at the huge silver book in horror, completely incapable of imagining sticking his own nose into it. But he was glad that Draco liked it; seems the bookstore had chosen well when he had told them "varied and comprehensive." He'd have to remember them in the future if he wanted some muggle books.

Harry put on his boots and walked over to Draco and ran his hand over the white hair. The two shared a smile and Harry left the room, intent on talking to Salazar. He figured the painting already knew what he was going to ask. Harry walked through the hallway and the double doors, coming to stand a few feet in front of the painting.

"Good morning, Harry. Things went well, yes?" Salazar asked with a small smirk.

"As if you don't already know," Harry snorted wryly. "But, yes, things did go well. I've not been able to get out, however, to acquire appropriate attire nor a suitable gift. I'd like to go back a week; I've got an idea of what I want to do but it will take quite some time to complete. May I have your permission to use the time-turner?"

"What do you want to do?" Salazar asked his student curiously. He knew already that he would give permission - he'd spoken to the time-turned Harry last week - but robes and a gift should not be that complicated. What was the boy up to?

"Well," Harry stalled, ruffling his hair. Maybe Salazar wouldn't like the idea? His teacher did tell him that his ideas got a bit grandiose at times.

"Harry?"

Harry chewed his lip a moment, then answered honestly, "I want to use unicorn hair in the embroidery on Draco's robes. I know that white thread would be fine, but I wanted something a little more…distinctive…for Draco. It'll take quite a lot, what with the runes and image, so I thought I would go into the forest and ask the unicorns if they'd be willing to give me enough. Plus, I want to do the embroidery and spellwork myself. That'll take days."

Salazar raised an eyebrow at his student's ambitious project. No wonder he'd given permission. "So it will. Make sure you use your time wisely, Harry," Salazar said as a small piece of his frame popped open.

"Yes, sir. I will," Harry said as he reached over to take the small device from its hiding place. "Thank you."

Salazar nodded as Harry set the time-turner then disappeared with a pop.

Harry blinked away the slight distortion in his vision caused by the time travel and looked up to Salazar's surprised portrait. Grinning mischievously, Harry chirped, "Good morning, sir! How are you this fine day?"

Chuckling at his student's behavior, Salazar replied, "Quite well, thank you, Harry. And why have you come back in time?"

Grinning, Harry answered, "Why, places to go and people to see, of course!"

"Of course," Salazar chuckled. "I'm sure I'll get the reason out of you later. This has something to do with Mister Malfoy's transition today, yes? Did it go well?"

"It went spectacularly," Harry replied enthusiastically. "Our bond is very strong. He was Gifted as a Healer! There's not been a Healer for over fifty years! He'll be swimming in offers before a month is up, I'd bet."

"A Healer? That is indeed remarkable." Salazar turned serious and said firmly, "Harry."

Harry stepped back and looked at his mentor in surprise. "Yes, sir?" he asked, uncertain as to the reason behind Salazar's suddenly stern demeanor.

"Harry," Salazar began again, just as firmly, "you agreed to be that young man's transition partner. You took the risk of him being Gifted. There is a reason why a Gifted wizard's transition partner is properly titled Guardian. This is a lifelong bond you have forged. Your Guardianship does not end when the week is up. I imagine that he will indeed be swimming in offers as you put it. A Gifted wizard is often hounded to use his Gift, a Healer doubly so. It will be your duty to see that he does not get overwhelmed, that he has peace from those vying for his attentions, that he does not overtax himself trying to please everyone. You must be prepared to handle these things. You are his Guardian."

Harry's eyes widened in realization of just what it was Salazar was telling him. Nodding slowly, Harry replied, "Yes, sir. I hadn't thought of that. Thank you for the warning. I will do as you say; Draco will not be overburdened as long as I can help it."

Salazar nodded in pleased satisfaction at the determination apparent in his student's eyes and stance. "Good."

"Of course, he's not going to like that," Harry said with a small laugh. "He's very independent."

Salazar raised an eyebrow. "Likely he will not be as dissatisfied as you fear. It is quite probable that he has realized for some time that he would likely be Gifted and would therefore have a Guardian who would watch over that part of his life."

"Maybe," Harry agreed doubtfully.

Salazar studied his student a moment. "If you are that concerned, perhaps you can offer him your own Guardianship?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond then shut it and thought for a moment. Eventually, he nodded slowly and replied, "That might be a good idea. I'll think about it."

Salazar smiled slightly. "Go on, now. See to your errands."

Harry grinned again. "Yes, sir! See you later!" And Harry was out the door with a wave leaving behind a chuckling painting.

"First stop - Corinne's and Adrien's," Harry thought to himself as he exited the tunnel into the Forbidden Forest. "Then - Gringott's. Then…," Harry stopped and thought for a moment. Where would he go after Gringott's? He didn't need to go anywhere but the clothing store, the bank, the forest, and back to the Quarters to rest. And he needed to go to the forest at night not during the bright of the day. Unicorn hair was more potent when harvested by moonlight.

Continuing to the tree that would hide his magic use, keeping the entrance secret, Harry thought idly, "Maybe I'll pick up some food while in Paris. Why, in all the things we talked about, did Draco and I never talk about what foods we liked?" Stopping moments later under the appropriately charmed tree, Harry grasped his wand, adjusted his glamour to not-Potter, put on a French style wizard's hat, thanked Salazar once again for teaching him how to apparate, and disappeared.

Orienting himself quickly in his new surroundings, Harry took off down the street to see a couple friends he hadn't yet told Draco about. He had met Adrien, a tanner and leatherworker of dragonhide, when he had been searching for someone who was knowledgeable and trustworthy enough to work the yards of basilisk hide he had found himself in possession of after Salazar had insisted he harvest the useable components of the ugly beast. Of course, Salazar hadn't bothered to tell him that the entire beast was useable. He'd stopped complaining, though, the moment he'd found out how much those components were worth and that he could establish a vault that wasn't watched.

He and Adrien had immediately taken to each other. It had been an odd experience; almost like instant friendship. Then he had met Adrien's wife Corinne and the same connection had happened! He had been wary, then, but eventually calmed when nothing seemed amiss after nearly an entire day in their company. He'd spent his entire time-turned summer between third and fourth year with the couple, incidentally learning French, including some words that Salazar hadn't been impressed with. He'd learned a great deal about everyday practical wizarding life from them, too, and they were very dear to him. He'd considered them as transition partners but had quickly discarded the idea. Corinne was brilliant but was physically tiny. Even with the standard strength potion available to transition partners she wouldn't have been able to restrain him physically; he would simply have used his greater leverage against her. He had refused to take the risk that he would have harmed her, maybe even raped her in his desperate delirium. As for Adrien, the tanner had made it plain at one point that he wanted no bonds other than the one to his wife.

Stepping into the store, Harry looked around at all the expensive fabrics and the one-of-a-kind robes that were found here. Corinne was a brilliant designer and her robes clothed some of the wealthiest witches and wizards in Europe. Corinne often pestered him to allow her to make him a new wardrobe but he constantly declined. What was the point, he would ask, of making a wardrobe for a boy who would grow out of it before being able to wear it all? He'd not been able to get away without a few outfits, however, something he was grateful for the summer of his transition when he'd spent three months away from everyone and was therefore able to dress as he wished instead of how he must.

(("May I help you, sir,")) a saleslady asked him politely in French.

(("Yes, thank you,")) Harry replied, smiling. (("Would you please tell your mistress that Harry is here for a special request and to finally grant her wish?"))

(("Of course, sir. I'll be back in a moment, please feel free to look around. We just received a new shipment of velvets,")) the saleslady responded, pointing out the aforementioned material before leaving through the back door.

Harry eyed the velvets doubtfully. They looked nice, he supposed. He was hopeless at fashion, though, and knew it. Accordingly, he kept the ensembles that Corinne had made for him hanging in the same way in which she had provided them in the first place so he wouldn't mess up. Merlin forbid he mix the wrong shade of green with the wrong shade of charcoal! He had patiently listened to everything Corinne told him about colors and textures and styles and accessories, nodding when appropriate but not really understanding, and had come to the conclusion that he was going to have to address his ineptitude in some other, more practical, fashion. Corinne had laughed at him and promised never to make him anything but a full ensemble. He had been insanely grateful.

Harry was suddenly accosted by a bundle of blue silk with blond hair and squeezed enthusiastically. (("Harry! It's so good to see you!")) Corinne pulled back and looked up her young friend, her delight apparent but tinged with confusion. (("But what are you doing here? Did you really come just to let me dress you?"))

Harry laughed. (("Not just to dress me, no. I have a very special request. Could we talk privately? With Adrien?")) Harry asked, smiling widely at his exuberant friend.

(("Yes, of course. Come, come, let's go have tea,")) Corinne said, practically dragging a laughing Harry behind her small frame and telling the bemused saleslady that she would be indisposed for the morning.

In short order, Corinne had seated Harry, fetched her husband, and distributed tea. (("How did you get off school grounds, Harry?")) Adrien asked, then blushed when Harry simply gave him a pointed look. (("Oh. Right."))

(("Harry is going to let me dress him!")) Corinne exclaimed to her husband.

Adrien furrowed his brows, understanding immediately the implications beyond his wife's entertainment. (("It is time?")) he asked seriously.

(("Yes.")) Harry nodded.

(("Why so early?")) Adrien asked in concern.

(("Something has come up. Not bad, but it will definitely make it impossible for me to continue to hide.")) Harry replied reassuringly.

(("Does it have to do with your special request?")) Corinne asked, finally realizing that there was more involved here than her satisfaction.

(("Yes. I need you to make a set of Gifted robes.")) Harry answered, not surprised at the subsequent reactions of his friends.

Corinne immediately exclaimed (("Finally!")) while Adrien looked at him a moment, then set down his teacup and said quietly, (("Not for you."))

Harry gave a small smile and set down his own teacup. Corinne looked at them both in shock. (("No, not for me.")) Harry agreed.

Corinne picked up her previously ignored teacup and took a small sip. (("Speak,")) she said softly. And Harry did.

The next half hour saw Harry telling his friends everything that had happened, everything he planned for this time-turned week, and everything he thought might happen as a result of his involvement with a Gifted Draco Malfoy. The next hour was spent thinking of responses and contingency plans. The several hours were purely social.

(("Come back at four o'clock and I will have his robes ready. Yours will be ready by the time Adrien finishes his pieces,")) Corinne told Harry as she escorted him back to the store.

(("All right. I'll see you later,")) Harry replied, kissing Corinne on the cheek before leaving to go back to London and the Gringott's branch there.

A figure concealed by a dark brown cloak approached a fierce looking goblin guard. The figure opened his brown-gloved hand long enough for the guard to see a black key emblazoned with a stylized "T" before pulling the hand back inside the cloak. The guard turned without a word and led the figure to a well-apportioned room that lay down a hallway beyond the sight of the tellers. Minutes later another goblin entered the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Good afternoon. How may I help you today?" the goblin asked politely.

The figure pulled down the hood of the cloak. "Good afternoon, Thornbelt. Are you well?"

A twitching nose was the only sign of the goblin's surprise. "Mister Potter. You always come on such unusual days. I am well, yes. And yourself?"

Harry smiled brightly, "I am well." He was always pleased to see Thornbelt; a practical, no-nonsense, efficient, informative, and amazingly personable goblin. It had been Thornbelt who had helped him set up his account so it was away from prying eyes and explained that goblins didn't care about age; if you came in with money then you were old enough to make a transaction. The black-key account he now held was pricey, but the discretion offered was beyond dispute; only he and Thornbelt knew who owned the account.

Thornbelt smiled back, exposing a great many sharp teeth. He was always pleased to see Harry Potter; a sensible, intelligent, and respectful wizard. "And how may I help you today?" he asked again.

Harry ruffled his hair and said slowly, "I want to petition the wards around one of my family vaults to let me take something out."

Thornbelt's nose twitched again. "Do you remember what I told you that involved?"

Harry grimaced and nodded. "Blood and invasion by a foreign magic," he answered.

Thornbelt nodded. "Very well. Which vault?" he asked, knowing the young man wouldn't have asked unless he was quite serious.

"Two hundred seventeen," Harry replied.

Ten minutes later Harry was on his knees before large double-doors adorned with the Potter crest, waiting patiently while Thornbelt chanted in old goblin to awaken the semi-sentient wards around the vault. Thornbelt finished and held out a hand to the young man next to him. Harry offered up his hands to the goblin, wincing and hissing in pain, but not pulling away, as goblin runes were cut into both palms.

"Place your hands on the doors and think of what it is you want and why," the goblin instructed, wondering if this young man would succeed in convincing the wards. It hadn't been done in so long that he would have to look up the last successful petition.

Harry did as he was told and tried to relax as much as possible as the magic of the wards invaded him, searched him, judged him. A final surge of magic and the doors clicked open. Harry grinned at Thornbelt and rose, checking his hands. "Nice," he commented as he noted they were healed and clean.

Thornbelt showed more sharp goblin teeth than usual and gestured him into the vault.

Harry stepped into the vault and stopped short in dismay. "Merlin. Did my ancestors not believe in organization?" he queried softly to himself as he looked around at haphazardly placed and dangerously stacked vault contents. Sighing, he started looking.

Luck seemed to be at least partly on Harry's side as he relatively quickly discovered a cabinet stuffed with an indiscernible number of smallish boxes. He only had to go through about fifty before finding what he was after. Approaching the exit, Harry was advised, "Walk through slowly, Mister Potter."

Harry did. Stepping through the wards felt like walking through water as they slowed him down and checked that he had taken only what he had asked for. Once the vault was resealed, Harry and Thornbelt traveled back to the meeting room.

"May I be so bold as to ask what you retrieved, Mister Potter?" Thornbelt asked, very curious as to what the young man could have wanted that the wards would agree to.

In response, Harry simply held out the smallish box and opened the lid. Harry grinned as the goblin's ears fluttered in appreciation at what he saw. "This is exquisite workmanship. Why would you want to retrieve it at this time?" Thornbelt asked, still completely at a loss as to the young man's motives.

Still saying nothing, Harry pulled out the folded papers secured in the lid and handed them to the goblin. Several nose twitches later, the goblin handed back the papers and Harry replaced them and closed the box.

"Make sure to take a look at Thursday's paper," Harry said cryptically and pulled up the hood of the brown cloak.

Thornbelt nodded thoughtfully and escorted the indeterminate brown-cloaked figure back to the lobby.

((What did they say?)) Harry asked the snake that had agreed to act as an intermediary between him and the unicorn herd in the Forbidden Forest.

((The herd stallion is intrigued by your request. He will allow you to approach and make your plea,)) the snake replied.

((Great,)) Harry said in relief. ((Can you lead me to him?))

((Of course.))

An hour later Harry was grumbling to the snake, ((It didn't take you this long to get there and back. How much farther?))

((Well, I did not have to deal with any obstacles more than a few centimeters above the ground. It is not my fault you are so large.)) Harry could swear the snake was laughing at him.

Moments later Harry forgot anything he might have said in response as he broke through into a clearing filled with unicorns. The sight was amazing, to be sure, but it was the herd stallion that held Harry immobile and awe-struck. The stallion was by far the largest of the unicorns present and stood proud and tall in a protective stance off to the side of the others. The stallion was looking him in the eye and Harry couldn't even think to breath, much less move.

Harry gasped for breath when he was released from his paralysis when the stallion shook his head and pawed the ground.

((You may approach,)) the snake encouraged.

((Uh, I should have asked before, but is there any etiquette for this situation that I should observe?)) Harry asked, still a bit breathless.

((Stop five feet away and do not lie,)) the snake answered, amused by the human's reaction.

((Right. Thank you,)) Harry said, now somewhat nervous.

Harry slowly walked towards the stallion, careful not to make any sudden movements. Stopping five feet away he opened his mouth to start talking then closed it without uttering a sound. This wasn't right. Harry kneeled and imagined he saw a spark of approval in the stallion's eyes.

"Well, you see, it's like this…" Harry began softly

Harry thought he would feel relieved if the unicorns were to agree to his request. Maybe even happy and honored. The only thing he was feeling, though, was incredibly humbled.

He'd been with the stallion eight hours now. He had worked for two hours, rested for one, worked and rested again, then worked again and was now finished for the night. Morning. Whatever. He was very tired; it was four o'clock Sunday morning and except for a couple hour nap he had been awake and active for twenty-two hours. And he'd be back tonight. It was a good thing he didn't have any more errands until Wednesday. He was going to sleep this whole day.

Harry carefully packed away Draco's robe and bowed to the herd stallion from his place on the ground, where he was once again kneeling. "Thank you, sir. I shall follow Sanna again tonight as you instructed."

The stallion snorted and stomped the ground. Harry kept his head bowed as the stallion whinnied to his herd members and led them from the clearing. Once he was sure the unicorns were gone, he lifted his head and looked for his snake guide. ((Sanna?))

((Here.))

Harry looked to the sound and watched the snake uncoil and approach him. ((Would it be acceptable if I apparated back the entrance? Would it be considered rude at all?)) Merlin, Harry hoped not. He was exhausted and definitely did not fancy an hour walk back to the tunnel entrance.

((You are tired. Can you do this magic without harming yourself?)) the snake said in response.

((I am tired but I have enough concentration for this. It is a familiar place to me and easy to visualize,)) Harry answered.

((Then it will not be rude,)) Sanna assured him. ((I will meet you there again tonight as the sun sets.))

((Thank you,)) Harry said, relieved. He picked up the box with Draco's robe, stood, and apparated back to the tunnel entrance. Giving the entrance a weary stare, he began trudging back to Salazar's Quarters.

It was now Thursday night. This morning he had finished embroidering the runes; all one hundred eighty of them. The only thing left was the traditional image to embroider on the back: a unicorn. He knew exactly what image he wanted to place there; he couldn't get his initial sight of the herd stallion out of his mind. He figured it was only right that the stallion be immortalized since it was his hair that was being used. However, he was worried about logistics. Harry started at Sanna's soft hiss just to his left.

((What troubles you?))

((I am concerned that every time I open my eyes to get a new hair that I will not be able to go back to exactly where I left off with the previous hair, disrupting the image I wish to create,)) Harry confessed sheepishly. Really, he was probably being much too over-anxious about the process. Nobody would notice if the image wasn't absolutely perfect. Probably not even him. Shaking his head at himself, he listened to the snake's response.

((Cast your spell and keep the image in your mind. The herd stallion will ensure that a new hair is supplied whenever necessary,)) the snake told him.

Startled at the idea, Harry simply nodded and obeyed. He closed his eyes, called up the image, and cast his spell.

Harry maintained the image for hours, unconsciously falling into a deep meditative state. Slowly he became aware of a sense of completion and Sanna talking to him softly. ((You are finished now, young wizard. The image is very beautiful. You must come back and look at your work,)) Sanna was saying hypnotically.

Harry listened to the compelling words of the snake as she continued on in this vein, cajoling him back to conscious awareness. Eventually he opened his eyes and sought out the helpful snake.

((Thank you, Sanna. I think I am back now,)) Harry said softly, then groaned when he attempted to move from his kneeling position. ((How long has it been?))

((Many hours. Not as many as the previous nights. Perhaps half?)) Sanna answered, providing the information she could with a snake's time-sense.

"Midnight, then," Harry thought to himself. He should be able to get back to a relatively normal sleep schedule, then.

Harry lifted his eyes to his work and sucked in a surprised breath. ((It is indeed beautiful, Sanna. It is just like I pictured it.))

((Imagine that,)) Sanna replied with some amusement. Really, what had he expected it to look like?

Harry laughed at the snake's comment and lifted his gaze to the herd stallion. "Thank you very much," he said sincerely and bowed low. Harry maintained his position, waiting for the stallion to lead his herd members away as he had the previous nights. He was surprised when instead the stallion approached him and he could see the gleaming hooves not half a meter away. He was confused but didn't dare move.

Moments later Harry couldn't move as a warmth suffused him from head to toe. His body felt revitalized, his magics rejuvenated, his mind…his mind felt healed. In dazed amazement, he realized what was happening. He couldn't help but sob his gratitude as he felt the unicorn's blessing wash away the shame he felt from his life with the Dursley's.

By the time Harry sufficiently recovered his composure, the herd was long gone. He gathered the now finished robe, thanked Sanna one last time, and apparated back to the tunnel entrance intent on going immediately to bed. He was still somewhat dazed at the stallion's blessing and figured his best route of action was to sleep. Surely his mind would be functioning normally tomorrow…

Friday morning found Harry grinning joyfully at the miserable weather as he made his way back to Corinne and Adrien's. Likely he looked like an idiot but he absolutely did not care. With an excellent night's sleep combined with the newness of the unicorn's blessing, he felt he would be in a good mood for the rest of his life.

Stepping into the store Harry didn't have time to even dispel the shield that had been keeping him dry before he was accosted and hugged by Corinne. (("It's good to see you! Come to the back; that's where we have your things."))

A laughing Harry was once again dragged out past a bemused saleslady. (("The boots and pants and shirt are spelled the same as yours. Adrien says he had a hard time making the cloak the right color. He got it in the end, though, so don't worry. Your robes are just lovely; I can't wait to see you in them. I know you didn't ask for them but I included some under…"))

(("Corinne,")) Harry said firmly, stopping the anxiously babbling designer and giving her a little shake. (("Why are you so nervous? What's wrong?")) he asked in concern.

The woman simply looked up at him, wringing her hands, unable to control her partly panicked expression.

Harry said gently, (("You don't have to do this if you don't want. It's all right. And you're welcome to still come. If not, though, I need to know now so I can make other arrangements."))

(("No. I do. It's just that I've been like this over half my life. The prospect of…it's a bit frightening. It's silly, I know. I should be excited and looking forward to it. But I just…")) the woman said helplessly.

Harry had come Wednesday and asked if Corinne and Adrien would consent to Corinne being the subject of Draco's Proving. His friends had been flabbergasted at his request, then highly emotional; never had they contemplated that Corinne might one day be healed of her injuries. They had gratefully agreed to his request and he had left them with an invitation, sending an owl to Dumbledore a little later to add them to the guest list.

Harry hugged his friend tightly and said, (("I understand. While my scars aren't as highly visible it was still somewhat disconcerting when they were suddenly gone. Draco is quite adamant about getting rid of all of them before long.")) Harry laughed then, unable to contain his joy at life any longer, and lifted his friend up and twirled her around. Corinne's squeals brought Adrien into the back room

(("Should I be jealous?")) Adrien asked with a grin, already knowing the answer he would get.

Harry set down Corinne and assumed a stance and air of mock affront. (("Of course not! Given my preferences, Corinne would have the greater cause to be jealous!"))

Adrien's grin widened. (("I know,")) he said lightly then added, (("You're in a good mood today."))

The couple looked on bemusedly as Harry practically sparkled with joy. Laughing again, Harry shared the cause of his mood, (("I was blessed.")) Moments later Harry was covered with two overjoyed friends babbling and crying their wonder and happiness. Maybe he would stay here today. He didn't have anything else he needed to do. And today was such a wonderful day to spend with friends…

Chapter 13 - Saturday, 19 October - Morning/Afternoon

Harry apparated back to the forest entrance at ten o'clock and resituated the bag holding his purchases that hung over his left shoulder. He couldn't help but smile as he traveled through the tunnels back to Salazar's Quarters. Draco was waiting for him there and he hadn't seen his bond-mate in a week. A whole week! Maybe he could drag Draco's nose out of that tome and snuggle for a while…

Draco looked up at opening of the bedroom door and smiled over at Harry. He let his book fall closed as Harry quickly made his way over and swept Draco up into a fierce hug. Harry held on tightly and reveled in the surging of the bond after a week's absence.

Draco was surprised at the intensity of Harry's greeting but returned the hug enthusiastically and offered politely, "Hello, Harry. How were your errands?"

"Fine," Harry mumbled into Draco's neck. "I missed you."

"You've only been gone two hours, Harry," Draco said wryly, nevertheless relishing Harry's possessiveness.

"No," Harry mumbled, "Been gone a week." Harry continued his tight hold on Draco. He hadn't realized quite how much he missed Draco until just now.

"What!" Draco exclaimed. "You turned a week! Why!" Draco asked, pushing Harry away slightly so he could look the other boy in the eye. "Surely you know a bond this strong likes close proximity in the beginning! And you just stretched it for what!"

"I had a bunch of stuff to do," Harry tried to reason with his incensed bond-mate. "I had to commission our robes and…"

"Our robes couldn't have taken that long to make!" Draco interrupted angrily.

"They're special. At least yours…," Harry protested.

"Harry," Draco interrupted once again. "They can't be all that special to need a week!"

"And I brought you a present," Harry offered in an attempt to derail Draco's scolding.

Draco stopped, momentarily distracted. "A present?" he asked. He liked presents.

"Yes, of course, a present," Harry said, relieved that he had managed to sidestep some of Draco's growing ire. "It is traditional for partners to exchange presents, you know."

"Of course I know. You didn't have to," Draco said even though he was eagerly looking forward to what Harry had bought him. "Don't think this gets you out of explaining why you went back a week," Draco added sternly.

"Of course I did," Harry said. "And I went back a week because your robes are very special. They took me six nights to finish."

Draco was taken aback. "Six nights?" he asked in disbelief. "What do you mean? What did you do?"

"I'll tell you later, I promise. Can we snuggle for now? Please?" Harry practically whined.

Draco assessed Harry a moment then smiled gently. "Sounds like you put a lot of effort into my robes," he said, once again wrapping his arms around Harry.

"Yes," Harry agreed, happily sticking his face back into Draco's neck.

"And you got me a present," Draco said softly.

"Yes, of course I did," Harry said distractedly, breathing in the scent of Draco.

"And you've been missing me a whole week so you could do this," Draco said as he ran his hands over Harry's back.

"Yes," Harry said, sinking into the feeling of the bond.

"Well, then," Draco said suggestively, "I think the bond needs a bit of reaffirmation, don't you?"

Harry would have answered but he was too busy responding to Draco's kiss as the other boy pulled him down to the floor. And, really, who was he to argue?

Draco lay on his back on the hearth rug staring up at the tiled ceiling. Harry had been quite responsive in their earlier activities, nearly desperate in fact. Now, though, Harry was resting comfortably against Draco as Draco ran a hand through the black hair. Stretching the bond like Harry had done wasn't such a good idea so early; it tended to snap back into place a little violently. There was no harm done, though, and the bond was now appeased and settled.

Still, Harry had been so needy for Draco. More so than Draco would have thought would be the case. He thought about that some. Given Harry's reaction, he wondered how close their bond was to being exclusionary. Probably pretty close. If the two of them continued with an intimate relationship, which seemed likely, then they would probably develop an exclusionary bond before too long. A few years, maybe. Such an outcome wouldn't be completely unexpected; about a quarter of the Gifted of Europe had exclusionary bonds. It wouldn't squeeze out prior bonds, like the Weasley twins, but it would keep either of them from forming new bonds. And Draco was completely fine with that. Possessively ecstatic, in fact. He wondered if Harry was.

"Just ask," Harry mumbled.

Draco chuckled. Evidently Draco's curiosity was getting the better of Harry. "I think our bond will become exclusionary. Are you all right with that?" he asked, concerned.

"Yes. I'm looking forward to it, actually," Harry said. And he had. Such a deep bond with another person had been one of Harry's dreams.

"Me, too," Draco said softly, happy at the truth he could feel through the bond at Harry's words. "Maybe," he offered optimistically, "if it happens soon enough you can use that as an excuse to not partner Weaslette."

"Maybe," Harry said with a tiny half-shrug. "I don't think it will, though. It usually takes a few years."

"I know. But you have the weirdest luck," Draco said with a snort.

"True," Harry agreed. Privately, though, he figured he would still have to deal with that mess.

"Harry?" Draco asked after a couple minutes of silence.

"Yes?" Harry said, already suspecting exactly what it was Draco wanted to know.

"How come it took so long on my robes? Just what did you do?" Draco asked. He was determined to get an answer this time.

A bit of abashedness filtered through the bond to Draco as Harry answered, "Well, I spelled them myself."

Draco frowned in puzzlement. "You spelled them yourself? That's nice, Harry, but what could you have possibly done that would have taken you six days?"

"Nights," Harry corrected.

"Whatever," Draco said. "Six nights, then."

"Well, you know there are runes on the edges, right?" Harry asked

"Yes," Draco answered, still mystified. "One hundred eighty of them."

"Right. I spelled each thread of each rune individually for various protections," Harry said matter-of-factly.

Draco sat up quickly, dislodging Harry from his resting spot on Draco's belly. "What!" he exclaimed in shock.

"Oomph." Harry glared accusingly at Draco as he was unceremoniously dumped to the floor then pulled Draco back down to the floor to once again lay his head on Draco's belly.

Draco rolled his eyes but brought a hand up to card through Harry's hair. He supposed if the other boy had spent such effort that he did deserve some of the head petting he seemed so addicted to. Draco was still getting his answers, though. "Well?" he demanded.

"I spelled them," Harry said petulantly. "I cast the protection spells on the individual strands and then embroidered each strand into a rune. Each rune took about ten minutes; all of them together took about thirty hours."

"Wow," Draco said in surprise. He'd never had someone spend so much time on something for him. "That's amazing, Harry. A lot more than I expected. A lot more than anyone could expect. I bet they're grand."

"They are," Harry agreed.

"What about the image," Draco asked curiously. "Did you spell that, too?"

"Well, it's special but not spelled special," Harry said. "It has a lot of magic in it and it projects a certain aura."

Draco frowned. "You mean can tell what you were thinking when you made it by touching it?"

"Yes. Or looking at it. I think you'll like it," Harry said.

"I'm sure I will, Harry," Draco said softly. How could he not? Harry had spent a week's effort on something Draco would probably wear less than a dozen times a year. "At least now I understand why you went back a week."

"Hmmm," was Harry's only response as he continued to enjoy the fingers running through his hair.

"Harry?"

"Hmmm?" Why was Draco so chatty? What was so wrong about a nice quiet snuggle right about now?

Draco snorted at the spike of sleepy peevishness he felt in the bond and shook his head. "How come you're only seventeen?" he asked.

"What?" Harry asked nonplussed. What kind of question was that? Draco knew when Harry's birthday was.

"You have a weekly time-turner. You just used it to go back a week to bespell my robes. How come you haven't used it every week since you first got hold of it? How come you only doubled your summers? Merlin knows I would be thirty by now," Draco admitted.

"Can't," Harry said. "S'got limits on it."

Draco frowned. "Time-turners don't have limits on them. Well, except for the whole you can't encounter yourself rule. That's why the Ministry restricts their use so much."

"That's for the little ones that only go back a maximum of twenty-four hours. The bigger ones for days and weeks have got limits," Harry explained.

"Really? What kind of limits?" Draco had never heard of such a thing. Of course, he'd never heard of a weekly time-turner either so that wasn't saying much.

Harry dragged his mind up where it was trying to sink into a somnolent state from Draco's attentions, resigning himself to a conversation with his ever curious bond-mate. "The weekly one only goes back one week. It's one week or nothing. And it can only double up time not triple or quadruple it. So, you can only time-turn the same week once. And it can only take one person. And it can only be activated twelve times in any given twelve months. So I use it for the summers since there are only nine full weeks."

"Oh," Draco said. Well, that was slightly disappointing. "But what about last summer? I thought you said it was tripled."

"It was. It was special because of the ritual."

"Oh. I'd wondered," Draco said. Still, Draco figured if it was him he'd have turned as much time as he could. Maybe Salazar put restrictions on Harry's use of the time-turners? "Why didn't you use the weekly time-turner instead of the ritual for your transition? Why go through all that effort? In fact, why do it at all?"

"I couldn't use the time-turner because of paradox problems," Harry said. "If I'd jumped back a week then I would have lived through my astrological sixteenth birthday again and been subject to transition a second time. Merlin knows what would have happened."

"Oh," Draco said, blinking. "I didn't think of that."

"My only options were to either disappear or do something that let me live through my birthday multiple times without paradox," Harry continued.

"The ritual," Draco said in understanding.

"Yes," Harry said.

"But why do it at all?" Draco asked again. "Why not just disappear for that week?"

"I was scared," Harry admitted. "Vol…he'd been resurrected but he was so quiet. Nobody knew what he was up to. Some hints had been dropped that if they couldn't determine what kind of attack he was planning that I would have to be guarded extra heavily whenever I left Hogwarts. If that had happened I didn't think I'd be able to sneak away without getting caught and I'd be stuck with whoever Dumbledore picked for me. So that meant I had to stay here. I could have done that easily but I didn't want to just disappear for the summer; that would have brought down way too much attention. Even disappearing for a week would have been too suspicious."

"But he did attack," Draco said, confused. "Did they still say they were going to guard you heavily?"

"No. But by that time it was too late. He attacked the ministry on June fourth. I set the anchor and stayed in Salazar's chambers starting on the first, remember. I was already on my second pass by the time I found out about the attack."

"Right, right. And your summer?" Draco asked.

"Was normal and I was able to turn every week. That world tour was a last minute decision. I hadn't thought I'd be able to do anything," Harry said.

"But how did you never get caught? Either during the summers or here at school?" Draco asked. If he was going to join Harry in lessons he was going to need to know.

"I keep very accurate notes when I'm turning time for lessons," Harry said strongly. "I time back to fifteen minutes before I arrived and wait in the alcove opposite Octavia, behind that suit of armor. When I hear myself hissing the password I leave and continue walking. The only thing I have to be careful about is if someone is following me in the first place and I have something that helps with that now, though at first it was just being careful. It's the same for the weekends. I'm very, very careful about when I jump back when I'm here at Hogwarts because I'm always cutting it so close."

"And during summer?" Draco asked. He hadn't realized how involved it would be to use a time-turner.

"The summers are a lot easier," Harry said matter-of-factly. "There are two reasons for that. One, I don't have to worry about the timing so much and usually just apparate back to the Dursley's house an hour or two after I leave, like today. Plus…"

"There isn't an anti-apparition ward at that place?" Draco asked, surprised. That was stupid. Honestly, that was one of the first wards that should be erected to protect someplace. It was the first ward Severus had taught him, as a matter of fact.

"There is," Harry said. "I'm just keyed into it."

"You are? But why? When?" Why key in someone who, supposedly, didn't know how to apparate?

"I don't know why or when," Harry answered. "From my study of the wards I know that there is a handful of people keyed into them. I don't know who they are but I'm one of them."

"Huh. Dumbledore and some of his Order, probably," Draco said thoughtfully.

Harry shrugged. "Probably. So, I just apparate from my room to France. The Dursley's go to church on Sundays, so I do it then. I leave at eight in the morning and come back at ten. I turn time at my destination, usually, so I'm not in danger of catching myself."

"He doesn't happen to have another one, does he?" Draco asked suddenly.

Harry frowned into Draco's belly. "What? A weekly time-turner?"

"Yes," Draco said. Maybe he and Harry could spend their next summer together.

"No," Harry answered.

Draco deflated. "Too bad," he said sadly.

Harry snorted at Draco's disconsolate tone.

"Could he teach me to make one?" Draco asked, perking up as he thought of the possibility.

Harry chuckled at Draco's eagerness. "Maybe, but I doubt it. They were a gift from Rowena."

"But he taught you that ritual," Draco protested.

"That was different," Harry said.

"How?" Draco asked petulantly.

"It was a ritual," Harry said soothingly, "not time magic per se. There were elements of time magic, yes, but the primary aspect was ritual magic. You don't have to understand time magic theory to do the appropriate calculations or properly set up the ritual. But to make a time-turner? Well, you have to understand the theory of time magics and you have to know how to enchant objects. Besides, evidently the theory behind the big time jump of the ritual is different than the theory behind hourly versus daily versus weekly time-travel."

"That doesn't make sense," Draco said, frowning. "It's all time-travel."

"Salazar told me that Rowena once explained it to him with rubber-bands. The difference between each type of time-travel is like the differences between rubber-bands. All rubber-bands have similar properties but how far they stretch before breaking and how far you can shoot one depends on their size and thickness." Harry remembered that explanation well. Salazar had had a rather pained look on his face when relaying the simplistic explanation. Harry had stared at his mentor's expression and decided not to ask. And based on all the tedious calculations he'd had to do for the ritual, Harry had decided he really didn't want to know any more about the topic of time theory at all.

Draco sighed in disappointment. "All right. Have you ever met her? Rowena, I mean?"

"Once," Harry said.

"Could I meet her? Maybe I could ask her to teach me," Draco said, running possibilities through his head.

"You could," Harry said doubtfully, "but you'll have to have a better reason than just because I want to. She's pretty strict from what I could tell and what Salazar has said. Sort of like McGonagall."

"All right," Draco said. A moment later he added, "We should get up and take a shower so we can get dressed."

Harry propped himself up on an elbow and looked down at Draco in disbelief. "It's not even noon," he protested.

"Well," Draco said anxiously, "we need plenty of time to prepare."

Harry stared at Draco a moment and realized that the underlying tension running through the bond wasn't from Draco's unsatisfied curiosity but from his nervousness.

"No," Harry stated flatly.

"Bu…"

Draco never finished his protest as Harry decided that another round of "reaffirmation" might curb Draco's anxiety.

"Can… we get dressed…now?" Draco gasped out, desperately trying to remain standing.

"In a minute," Harry murmured, his head buried in Draco's shoulder.

They stood under the spray of the shower for several minutes, recovering from their latest bout of "let's keep Draco from thinking about his Presentation and driving Harry to distraction." Harry would never have thought Draco would be subject to pre-performance jitters. Harry wasn't so foolish as to think, and certainly not to mention out loud, that it was stage fright. No, he was certain Draco would be calm, cool, and perfectly collected the moment they stepped through the doors of the Great Hall.

Eventually Harry pushed himself away from the tiled wall, keeping Draco trapped between his arms. He looked at his bond-mate seriously. "You'll be fine."

Draco looked back a moment then gave a small smile. "I know."

Harry leaned in and kissed Draco gently. It was a kiss of reassurance, acknowledgement, and a deepening affection. It was sweet and full of future promise. "Let's rinse off and get ready," Harry said and pulled away.

Draco nodded and after they both rinsed off he turned to shut off the water as Harry grabbed a couple towels. "Just dry your hair, Draco. I'll take care of combing and braiding it, all right?"

Draco took the proffered towel and nodded. "Sure." He was actually rather glad Harry was going to tend his hair; he was certain it would take him forever to get the little side braids even. Best to have someone else do it. Fishing drying off, he wrapped the towel around his waist and turned to Harry to find the other boy already combing his own hair.

Draco studied Harry's back for a moment, shifting his vision a bit so he could see the remaining scars. Despite his efforts, he hadn't been able to get rid of all of Harry's scars this week. He had every intention of keeping to his promise, however. Before the year was out Draco would ensure all those scars were gone. He was reminded, though…

"Harry?"

Harry turned to Draco, setting the comb back down on the counter, "Yes?"

"Didn't you say you were going to drop the glamour over your age?" Draco said. Draco could sort of see through that piece of Harry's glamour, but not very well, certainly not as well as he could see through to specific injuries. He wanted to see what Harry really looked like and what better time than when the boy was naked?

Harry was startled a moment then flushed in embarrassment. "Oops?" he said. He had completely forgotten.

Draco laughed. "Take it down now. I want to see you," he said.

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. Draco watched in fascination as Harry's image seemed to melt into a new, but not very different, form. Raking his eyes slowly over Harry from head to toe, Draco compared the changes. The hair was longer; it now fell to the middle of Harry's shoulder blades. Draco nodded in approval; Harry was going to show his position as Head of Family. "Do you have your Lord's ring?" he asked. This would be an excellent time to display Harry's status.

Harry nodded. "I'll wear it tonight. Do you have your Heir's ring?" he asked back.

"Yes, of course," Draco said absently and continued his perusal. Harry's shoulders and chest were a bit wider and more developed; a young man's chest instead of a boy's. His arms and legs and torso were slightly more muscled; they weren't overly large but it was apparent that Harry worked his body at more than just flying a broom. Not stunning changes, but overall they gave Harry a greater presence. "Very nice," he said approvingly.

Harry smiled. "I'm glad you think so," he said. "Shall we?" Harry motioned to the door into the bedroom.

Draco walked out the bathroom door and headed towards the low table that held the bag Harry had returned with earlier. The bag was certain to hold Harry's robes as well as Draco's but Draco was unabashedly more interested in what his robes looked like and what his present was. Harry snatched the bag away before Draco could grab hold.

"Damn it, Harry!" Draco scowled at his smirking Guardian.

"No peeking," Harry said with a grin, perfectly aware that he was taunting Draco with all the mysterious goodies in the bag.

"It's been hours," Draco said. He did not whine. He was a Malfoy.

"And another ten minutes won't hurt you," Harry said unsympathetically. At Draco's pathetic look Harry rolled his eyes and said, "I'll give you a couple packages to open while I comb your hair, all right?"

Appeased, Draco nodded and sat expectantly on the settee. Harry pulled a couple gift boxes out of the bottomless bag and moved the bag to a nearby chair. "Come sit on the table so it's easier for me to reach your hair," Harry said as he held out the boxes and pulled out the comb from where he'd placed it in the waist of his towel on his way out of the bathroom.

Draco obligingly shifted to the table and took the boxes eagerly. "I love presents," he said excitedly.

Harry laughed and started on Draco's hair. "Open the little one first. I'll tell you about them after you open each one."

"All right," Draco agreed and turned his focus to his presents. He untied the fancy ribbon on the small package and took off the lid, exposing colorful tissue paper. Moving aside the first layer exposed a very thin pair of gloves made of knitted…acromantula silk? "Harry, is this…?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "Acromantula silk. Keep going."

Impressed, Draco continued, eventually revealing socks, a long-sleeved turtle-necked undershirt and full-legged underpants, all of knitted acromantula silk. "Merlin, Harry," he said, amazed, "I don't own anything in acromantula silk. Father says it's too expensive to buy for a growing boy."

"Well, that's true, but you're nearly full grown and these are spelled to fit themselves to you. Within reason, of course," Harry said as he continued to gently detangle the white hair.

Draco merely nodded. Still…

"They're also spelled for temperature and to protect you against hide garments," Harry added.

"Merlin, Harry, if you keep going I might just want to never take them off," Draco said wryly, trying to cover his surprise at such a fine gift. Harry chuckled at his comment and Draco asked, "Why gloves? Same reason?"

"Yes," Harry said. "They're to be worn under hide gloves. Open the next box."

Draco repackaged his new undergarments and set them aside only half reluctantly. He couldn't wait to put them on but…there was another present… As he untied the ribbon on the new - much larger - box Draco decided it probably held the hide pants and high-necked shirt that formed the base of a Healer's traditional garb. And, indeed, setting aside the lid and digging through the tissue revealed medium gray hide. Running a finger over it, Draco tried to determine which type of dragon had provided his new clothes.

"It's basilisk," Harry said, putting the comb back into the waist of his towel and setting his hands on Draco's shoulders.

"From the one you killed?" Draco asked curiously.

"Yes," Harry said. "It's not quite as spell-resistant as dragon-hide but that is balanced by it being lighter, thinner, and just generally more supple. It allows greater flexibility than dragon hide. And, personally, I'd rather dodge a spell than hope that my armor is going hold up."

"Good point," Draco said. "And since I'm agile, this won't hinder me like dragon hide would."

"Exactly," Harry said. "These have been spelled to help protect you from magical and physical attack."

Draco nodded in understanding then twisted his body to look up at Harry and asked eagerly, "Shall we get dressed?"

Shaking his head in amusement, Harry said, "Sure. Hand me the bag so I can get my things?"

Draco did as asked then immediately dove back into his packages. Oh, he couldn't wait to feel the silk against his skin and run his hands over the basilisk hide. Harry smiled at Draco's antics and pulled out the boxes that held his own undergarments and hide clothes.

"How do they fit?" Harry asked when they were both dressed.

"Perfectly," Draco said, somewhat surprised. "Are the spelled?" He hadn't thought that was possible with the hides of magical creatures.

"No," Harry said. "I, uh, snagged a couple of your hairs before I left. The tanner and seamstress both have mani-clones." Merlin, he hoped Draco didn't get mad about that.

Draco raised an eyebrow. Those were expensive. Only the most prestigious clothiers could afford to purchase, much less keep licensed, the magical manikins that would alter form with the addition of a client's hair. Although, given the quality of the garments so far, he really shouldn't be surprised. "Oh. You could have told me, you know. I've done that before and I'm fine with it."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I wasn't sure. Next layer?"

Draco nodded and eagerly took the new gift box Harry pulled from the bag. Draco sat on the settee and opened the box, revealing the floor length under-robe. The robe was designed to show off the hide beneath it; sleeves had been eliminated and the neckline swooped low to mid-chest and only buttoned from there to the hips before splitting open freely from hips to floor. He put it on and started work on the two dozen little buttons, only peripherally aware of Harry pulling out another box and doing the same.

Harry finished his buttons and looked up to see Draco studying him. "The velvet is a nice choice," Draco said, running a hand over the robe. "What fabric did you choose for your outer dress robe?"

"Me," Harry said in disbelief. "Believe me, Draco, I chose nothing. I am as completely inept at fashion as you've always believed. The designer chose. But to answer your question, I've no idea. Shall we find out?"

Draco snickered and nodded, gesturing to the bag now sitting on the low table. Harry pulled out another box and quickly opened it, pulling out a robe of heavy brocade. "Nice," Draco murmured. "Put it on."

Harry shrugged the heavy garment onto his shoulders, letting the full sleeves and open style front fall as they will. "Turn," Draco said. Harry obeyed and slowly turned in a full circle to let Draco evaluate his appearance. "You look resplendent, Harry," he said. And he did, standing there in black on black on black he looked every inch the young lord he was.

"Thank you," Harry said, smiling a bit in embarrassment. "I'll pass along your comment."

"No. Let me," Draco said. "I think I might want to meet this designer of yours."

"Sure," Harry said agreeably then once again opened the bag and pulled out a package. He passed the package to an eager Draco and sat on the chair to pull on the boots he had left there earlier when they had cleaned up from their activities on the floor. Since Draco had admitted a bit of envy over them when he'd been taking them off Harry, Harry figured Draco would be delighted that he now owned a similar pair of basilisk hide boots complete with optional color charm.

"Ooooh," Draco cooed over the boots. He spent the next several minutes caressing the boots and playing with the color charm before Harry got impatient.

"Just put them on, you nut," Harry said. "And reset the color."

Draco sniffed but did indeed put on the boots. "Do I get to see my robe now?" he asked a minute later, eager to see the robe Harry had spent so much effort on.

"Of course," Harry said and pulled out the next to last large box from the bottomless bag and handed it over. He watched Draco closely; he didn't want to miss any part of Draco's expression when he examined the robe.

"Finally!" Draco exclaimed and Harry chuckled at the childlike delight Draco was displaying.

Draco opened the box and moved the tissue. For a moment he was curious about the shimmering effect his saw on the runes embroidered on the light gray robe and then widened his eyes as he realized what they were made of. "Unicorn hair," he breathed.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Merlin," Draco breathed and pulled the garment out of its box reverently. "Merlin. Where did you get so much?"

"From the herd stallion in the forbidden forest," Harry said. "He was very helpful."

"The herd stallion," Draco said in stunned disbelief.

"Yes," Harry said, well aware of the significance. "Harvested by moonlight."

"Merlin," Draco said yet again, unable to form a coherent sentence in the face of such a gift. Unicorn hair willingly given was more potent than strands simply collected from where they'd been caught in bushes or bark. It was again more potent if harvested by moonlight. And the hair from a herd stallion was even more potent still. To use such hairs in embroidered protection runes… "How?" he managed to get out.

"I asked a snake to be an intermediary between me and the unicorns and ask the herd stallion if I could get the cooperation of his herd for my project. He agreed and was the one to donate his time and hair," Harry explained, gratified that Draco understood the value of the hair. "Here. Give it to me," he said softly.

"Why?" Draco said, holding the robe to himself, unwilling to let go of such a fine garment.

Harry smiled and said gently, "Let me show you the back and then you can put in on. All right?"

Draco nodded agreeably enough but still only reluctantly handed over the robe. Harry took the robe, turned it around, and held it up so Draco could see the image of the stallion on the back.

Draco inhaled sharply and reached out to run a finger over the fabric near the embroidered image. Acromantula silk again, he noted absently. Heavier than the undergarments and woven instead of knitted. "Is that…?" he asked.

"Yes, that's him. This is what he looked like the very first time I saw him. I couldn't get him out of my mind, so I used that memory for the image. It seemed appropriate since it was his hair," Harry said.

"He's beautiful," Draco said, entranced.

"Yes, he is," Harry agreed.

Draco dropped his hand from where he'd been stroking the fabric near the stallion's head. "I can't believe I'm going to be wearing this," he said awed. "I see what you mean about the aura. Was he really like this?" He could feel the strength and confidence and authority of the stallion emanating from the artwork. He could feel the sheer power of the beautiful animal.

"Oh, yes," Harry said, closing his eyes a moment in remembered awe. "He was amazing. Do you want to put it on or look at it for a while?"

"I better put it on or I just might sit here all night looking at it," Draco said, quite serious.

Harry laughed but nodded and helped Draco into the heavy silk robe, settling it comfortably. "Sit here on the table again so I can braid your hair," Harry said.

"It won't hurt the image, will it?" Draco asked worriedly.

"No, the image is high enough you won't sit on it," Harry said, pressing on Draco's shoulder.

Harry pulled out the last two boxes from the bag and handed the large one to Draco. "This is your Gifted cloak. The tanner had a hard time getting the right color - for some reason basilisk hide doesn't seem to like blue - but it came out fine eventually. There's also a pair of matching gloves for whenever you go outside."

Draco opened the box and pulled out the gloves, setting them aside so he could bring out the long and not-heavy cloak. He figured it was spelled lighter like his father's dragon hide cloak was. The cloak was a lovely midnight blue and was cut in the traditional style for a Gifted wizard: the hood was large and could be pulled over his head far enough to completely hide his face and the right panel overlapped all the way the left side of the body so no one could see the color of his Gifted robes before being revealed by his Guardian. It was also from basilisk hide.

"It's very nice, Harry. Thank you. Everything is very nice. I don't know what to say, really. You're going to run out of basilisk hide at this rate," Draco said, overwhelmed by how well Harry had provided for him today. This went beyond any of Draco's expectations, even knowing that Harry had access to sufficient funds.

Harry smiled at him. "I'm glad you're pleased. Thank you is enough. I can feel how much you mean it. And that thing shed a skin every year for nearly a thousand years. Believe me, I have plenty of hide left," Harry said.

"Thank you," Draco said again, purposely projecting his gratitude across the bond.

Harry blinked for a moment then blushed. "I, uh, have your present," he said, holding out a small box.

Draco accepted the box and asked teasingly, "You're actually going to let me open it before I'm fully ready to go?"

"Uh, well," Harry stammered.

"Ah, I see," Draco said. "It's the clasps for my hair."

Harry laughed a bit and nodded sheepishly. "Yes. They'll go perfectly with your robes. Make sure to read the provenance in the lid."

Draco nodded and opened the lid to reveal a set of three cylindrical clasps: a large clasp that would go on his main braid and two tiny clasps that would go on the two small decorative braids that would fall from just in front of his ears. They were exquisite. They were worth a small manor. They were made from unicorn horn. "Harry, I can't…," he strangled out.

"Read the provenance," Harry said firmly.

So Draco did. He read about how nearly four hundred years ago Richard Potter had commissioned the clasps for his only grand-daughter, Beatrice Montaigne. Beatrice had only lived six weeks after her Presentation as a Healer, killed in some random raid during the Thirty Years War. Richard had placed the items in the Potter vault with the admonishment that they were to be given as the Presentation gift to the next Healer associated with the Potter family. Evidently, that would be him. As Lord, Harry would be bound to honor the man's request. And that meant these now belonged to Draco. Draco couldn't speak.

Harry said nothing, instead opting to start on one of Draco's little braids. A couple minutes later he took out one of the smaller clasps and attached it the end of the braid. The little clasp - it was only about an inch tall and a quarter-inch thick - was heavier than it looked and caused Draco's braid to swing a little when it was released. Harry quickly made the second braid and fastened on the other little clasp before moving behind Draco to braid the remainder of the long white hair. Finishing the braid, Harry tapped on Draco's shoulder and held out a hand. Draco fingered the large clasp as it rested in the box. It was three inches tall and an inch wide; large enough to securely hold his main braid. It was so beautiful. And the carving... He'd need a magnifying spell to see all the detail. He lifted the heavy piece and placed it in Harry's palm. He couldn't believe he was going to wearing something like this.

Then Draco started to giggle. Then he started to laugh.

Harry smiled and fought to not join the infectious laughter. "Not that I mind your happy mood, but what brought this on?" he asked.

"Harry," he burbled, "my mother…" Grabbing control of his laughter, Draco shook his head and felt the clasps jump about. "My mother loves to wear expensive jewelry. It's all very tasteful, of course, but the more expensive the better. It's her way of showing off. She'll be wearing something hideously expensive tonight, but this…this will top anything she's ever thought about purchasing, much less worn. I can't wait until she sees them and realizes what they are." Draco continued to snicker.

Harry snickered as well then leaned in to kiss Draco quiet. "Vicious monster," he said in amusement. "Let's go."

"No, wait," Draco said quickly. "Your present, Harry."

Harry grinned. "You got me a present?"

"Of course, Harry. You didn't think I would forget did you? I brought it with me." He got up and went to the nightstand where he'd hidden Harry's present a few minutes after Harry had left that morning.

He handed the small box to Harry with a little shrug and a smile. "I guess it's the day for jewelry," he said.

Harry grinned and accepted the box. Opening it he found a bracelet of overlapping two-inch tall rectangles made of… Harry lifted the bracelet from its box and set the box aside to study the material of the bracelet; it was bright crimson with gold flecks.

"It's made from the eggshell of a Chinese fireball dragon," Draco explained. "They have the hottest flame of all the dragons and the eggshells are rumored to give protection from fire. My great-grandmother gave it to me just days before she died and told me to give it whomever I felt worthy of it. It belonged to her brother, Pierre Badeau."

Harry raised his eyebrows at the name. Interesting. Appropriate. "It's beautiful," he said and slipped the bracelet onto his left wrist and felt it constrict slightly to remain secure.

"I thought you would like it since it's in Gryffindor colors. Of course, now I know you're really a Slyherin…" Draco trailed off, uncertain now as to how Harry would receive his gift.

"That's all right. I really like it. It's beautiful. Thank you," he said, and kissed Draco again, making sure to project his pleasure and gratitude.

Draco flushed in response. "Now we can go," he said.

Harry grinned and picked up Draco's cloak and gestured towards the door. "After you."

Chapter 14 - Saturday, 19 October - Presentation

Severus grit his teeth and politely greeted yet another pair of sycophants. He loathed this. Loathed it more than he had ever loathed teaching dunderheaded students. He wanted to hex all these simpering idiots into toads and slugs and other slimy things. At least that way they might be of some use in potions. All this bloody etiquette was going to kill him before he ever got to see his son again. Of course, Lucius and Narcissa were thriving.

He wanted to hex them, too.

In fact, maybe he'd hex them first.

It could be argued, after all, that it was their fault he was in this position to begin with. Then again, if not for them he wouldn't have Draco. And his son was the only thing on this planet that could get him to be polite to…yet…another…imbecile.

Eventually the torture ended and everyone was checked off the guest list and ushered into the Great Hall. The three stepped into the Hall and Narcissa waited demurely - hah! that woman was a harridan when she wanted to be - while Severus and Lucius closed the massive doors. At the deep thud all the guests quieted and skittered out of the way of the stones that began slowly rising from the floor in a fifty-foot-wide semi-circle. The masses quickly left their respective positions about the Hall to jockey for a position on the steps. Severus, Lucius and Narcissa made their way to the spot on the floor immediately in front of the new stone steps, directly across from the door. It was their position of honor as parents and was shared only by the Headmaster as de facto host.

The next several minutes ticked by slowly as everyone waited. Severus was greatly looking forward to seeing everyone's reactions to Potter. Severus and Flitwick had laid a wager, instigated that morning at breakfast by Flitwick, with McGonagall and Sprout that Harry Potter would be barely recognizable. The two men claimed that Potter would arrive as a confident and strong young man, having dropped all pretense of being a naïve schoolboy, and also that he would be dressed imposingly in fine quality traditional robes. Pomona had argued that Potter's personality wouldn't change because of being a transition partner, even if it was to a Gifted Draco Malfoy, and Minerva had argued that Potter would be dressed in something of Draco's, not having the time, knowledge, or inclination to be dressed properly. It was Minerva's opinion, after she'd thought about it, that the invitations and catering must have been arranged by Draco prior to his disappearance in the event that he became Gifted.

Severus didn't think so. And, surprisingly, neither did Flitwick. He'd confided to Severus after breakfast that he'd long noticed something a bit off in Potter's work; something that hinted at a greater knowledge and ability than displayed. The Charms teacher had kept his silence simply because the boy had. It was Flitwick's opinion that this very public appearance would prompt Potter to drop his act.

The doors clicked and slowly opened and, ah, yes, Severus and Flitwick both anticipated being five galleons richer before the end of the night.

Harry placed his hand on the doors and they obligingly swung open. He and Draco stood there until the doors were fully open and then waited until the count of ten. "Whoever designed this ceremony definitely had a flair for the dramatic," he thought.

They walked forward twenty feet and stopped just on the edge of the semicircle and let the assembly take in the image of the two figures: one imposing young man dressed all in black and one figure hidden completely under a cloak of midnight blue. Harry stood regally and cast his gaze over the guests. Most of them stared back at him in shock. He noticed Snape wasn't one of those shocked speechless. In fact, he looked rather smug for some reason. "On with the show…," Harry thought.

"I, Harold James Potter, have come to Present to thee the Gifted Draconis Lucius Malfoy. Wilt thou, in fair mind and good conscience, stand witness to his Proving of his Gift?" he demanded imperiously.

"Aye," rumbled some five hundred voices in response.

"So be it," Harry replied.

Harry turned to Draco. Harry could feel Draco's confidence and eagerness through the bond but asked anyway, "Ready?"

Draco nodded once and looked to where he knew his parents and godfather would be standing. He couldn't wait to see that moment of shock on their faces.

Harry stepped behind Draco and undid the plain clasp on the cloak, making sure to hold the cloak closed until he got hold of the hood. Harry pulled simultaneously at the hood and the body of the cloak, divesting Draco of the garment in less than a second. The gasp was immensely gratifying. To both of them, Harry could tell through the bond. Harry shrunk the cloak and placed it into a hidden pocket in his dress robe. He then turned to look at everyone. Yes, all those dumfounded looks were quite gratifying.

As he looked about the assembly, Harry could already see some of the gazes turn calculating. Severus Snape remained as impassive and unreadable as stone to him but Draco must have seen something because Harry felt a wave of warm love and pride, not directed at him, through the bond.

Looking over the crowd again, he spotted Corinne and Adrien where he had asked them to stand. Looking back to Draco he smiled and placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, pressing him down, urging him to kneel. Draco knelt gracefully and smiled up at Harry. Their interaction caused nearly as many gasps as the initial unveiling and both young men smirked. Harry gave Draco's shoulder a quick squeeze and went over to his friends, every eye on him.

Harry bowed gracefully to Adrien ((Greetings, sir. Thank you for coming. Might I prevail upon your beautiful wife for a time?)), he asked in flawless French, something that did not go unnoticed, or subsequently un-commented upon, by the surrounding gossips.

Adrien smiled, bowed his head politely, and replied, ((With her consent, of course, Lord.)) Adrien's form of address also didn't go unnoticed or un-commented upon. Harry could almost feel the weight of the stares searching out his Lord's ring.

Bowing over and kissing the hand of Corinne, he said, ((Greetings, Madam. Might I ask you to be the subject of the Proving of my charge?))

((It is my honor, Lord,)) Corinne replied graciously with a curtsey.

Harry led her over to stand behind Draco, completely ignoring the murmurs of surprise that were now flowing outward through the crowd at his manners, command of the French language, and the mode of address the couple had used for him. Placing a hand on Corinne's shoulder, Harry uttered a quick spell and began to speak in voice that now carried easily to all in the room.

"This is Corinne Metais. During the last war she was caught in a Death Eater raid. During the raid a fire curse caught her along the left side of her face and head. A large patch of skin, from the top of her cheekbone across her eye and top of her ear to nearly the back her skull was severely burned all the way to the bone. Because the burn was all the way to the bone and because the eye was burned beyond repair, there was nothing that could be done for her other than ensure she would live. It was the opinion of the medi-wizards at St. Germaine's in Paris that only a Gifted Healer could offer her any hope of reconstruction."

Finishing his speech, Harry removed the scarf and veil from around Corinne's head, revealing the extensive scarring. Harry had chosen Corinne for several reasons. One, her injuries, even if they hadn't actually been seen, were well-known, at least in France and the upper echelons of British wizarding society, because she was well-known. Two, the injuries were well-documented and anything Draco healed could be easily verified. Both of these points would keep anybody from trying to claim a false or staged Proving. And, lastly, because Draco had experience, from Harry's scars, in healing skin. This task would be easy for Draco even if the skin in question was a much larger expanse than anything he had yet done.

Harry placed Corinne's right hand in his elbow and escorted her slowly around the semi-circle of witnesses, allowing everyone to see for themselves the extent of the damage. Corinne flushed in embarrassment but kept her head high. Once they arrived back in front of Draco, Harry helped Corinne to kneel facing the Healer.

"Do what you can," Harry said to Draco. He rose and stepped five feet away, leaving the two kneeling as the focal point of the audience's attention.

Draco nodded to Harry and raised his hands to the woman before him. ((May I have your permission to touch you, madam?))

((Yes,)) Corinne nodded and closed her remaining eye as the young Healer cupped his palms over her eyes and spread his fingers both over the uninjured part of her head and the ugly scarred hairless part. Soon she felt a small tingle at the back edge of her scarring. She remained unmoving, still unable to believe this opportunity had presented itself. The fact that she might be able to have a full head of hair was more than she had ever dreamed of being possible. And if he was able to heal the skin on her face as well…

Draco immersed himself into the scenic expanse of the woman's injury. He was nearly overwhelmed as he saw acres and acres of blackened twisted earth. He felt a mild tugging and followed it curiously. More blackened earth met his gaze. There on the left ribs. And there on the left hip. Obviously her head was not the only place the woman had caught the flame curse. He left his cursory explorations and returned his attention to the woman's head. This was a show tonight; his Healing had to be visible to the audience. It would be quite inappropriate to heal something that would require the woman to disrobe when there was something more visible he could address.

Draco placed a line of purple creeping flame along the back edge of the burn as the injured area was too great for him to completely surround. This burn was deeper than any of the burns Draco had Healed on Harry. However, Draco had Healed several bone-deep cuts. So…a combination approach, then.

He dissolved a thin vertical slice at the back of the scar so he could see the layers of healthy normal skin next to the twisted scarring. Slowly at first, then with greater speed, he encouraged the normal skin to build forward, taking the needed materials from the scar itself. Extra material was shoved along, creating a ridge as Draco continued to build the new skin forward. He continued until he reached a strange outcropping. What was this?

Ah, the ear.

Draco stopped for a moment, contemplating what to do. Well, there was another ear. He could copy it, maybe? No. Not copy it. Make it a mirror image. Could he do it? Could he fix this? Healers were able to regenerate body parts, after all. They were the only ones that could. He hadn't yet tried, though, and didn't think Harry had planned on having him experiment anytime soon. But what if he…

Draco tried splitting his attention between an awareness of the healthy ear and Healing of the injured ear. It was slow at first, but Draco soon found that it wasn't really that much different than growing skin. The visible ear wasn't that complicated, just skin and cartilage, and the body seemed to know what the ear was supposed to look like. He didn't really need to do much besides provide encouragement with his magic and a general idea of what he wanted. The hardest piece was keeping his attention split. Eventually, the ear grew back and he continued.

More blackened expanse. And more. And…what was this? A dry lake bed? No, Draco realized. The eye socket. He looked around in interest, evaluating what he saw here. Everything seemed fine, actually. It was simply that the eye was missing. And the muscles that held the eyed seemed to have atrophied away. Maybe…

Draco returned his attention to the blackened earth and finished transmuting it into a healthy grassy plain. The remaining building blocks he piled around the lake bed. He gazed upon the lake bed and contemplated it. Should he?

Draco took a moment and assessed himself. He was a little tired but not too bad. He could probably do it. He thought a bit more. Harry would be angry. Harry would even be right to be angry because this would push Draco to his limits. After a bit of a debate with himself Draco decided to go ahead and go for it and simply accept having to deal with an angry Guardian. He knew Harry wouldn't embarrass him in front of all these people. Later, though, Draco anticipated he'd probably get a good scolding. He could deal. It would be worth it.

Draco reached out a portion of his attention to the other, healthy, lake bed/eye-socket. Pulling in some of the ridged building blocks, he encouraged the atrophied muscles to build. That was the easy part. He was quite familiar with eye muscles, after all, from having worked on Harry's eyes. In fact… Draco suspiciously reviewed his memories of the last few days.

Harry had asked Draco to heal all burn scars first, giving, in retrospect, the rather lame excuse of those bothering him the most because they reminded him of all the chores he had been required to do at the Dursley's home. There had been no purposely inflicted burns on Harry but there were several from hot grease popping or other accidental burns while cooking, from the occasional burn received while ironing clothes, and from touching metal superheated from the sun on hot days working in the yard. Draco had complied easily, thinking only about how much he'd like to see the muggles served to the Dark Lord on a silver platter.

And when Draco had mentioned that scrapes seemed to be similar types of scars to burns, Harry had asked him to heal those next so he wouldn't "have any evidence of Dudley's Harry Hunting." Harry had also asked Draco to heal the half dozen bone-deep cuts he'd had "for experience in deep wounds." Harry had been training Draco for this moment for the last several days and Draco hadn't even known. "Sly little snake. I'm onto you," Draco thought affectionately.

Now. Back to the eye. What to do? Draco pulled the remaining building blocks from the ridge and into the center of the lake bed, shaping them into a sphere. Splitting his attention between the actual eye and the blob of undifferentiated matter, Draco simply thrust his magic into the mass with the fierce command copy. It took some time and progress wavered in speed, slowing when his split attention faltered. Eventually, though, there was an eye. With a last bit of energy, Draco connected the eye to the muscles and the central part of the retina to the optic nerve. Then he withdrew from his trance.

Severus ignored the murmuring of the audience that became louder and louder as it became apparent that the skin on the back of the woman's head was beginning to change from dark scarring to clear skin. He watched along with the others as, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, the scarring receded. Nearly ten minutes later an excited murmur started amongst the observers on the left; the missing ear seemed to be growing back. Lucius made a small sound on his right but Severus kept silent. No, he'd need something a bit more elaborate to get him to express the awe he was feeling.

Severus examined Potter. He stood respectfully off to the side but his attentions were carefully fixed on Draco. Returning his attention to his son, Severus noticed Draco's hands retreat until they were barely visible from Severus' perspective. His attention was drawn back to Potter when the boy stepped forward in alarm.

"No! Draco! Stop! You can do that another time." When Draco ignored him, Potter called again. "Draco! Damn it, you stubborn… You are in so much trouble."

Severus kept his face impassive as he heard Potter scold Draco, even as surprised and worried murmurs started up around him and Narcissa gasped in shock and Lucius huffed in offense. What had alarmed the black-haired boy? Severus couldn't see anything. Then it struck him what Potter was concerned about. Draco was going for the eye; to regenerate it. But…Potter was upset, concerned even, but he was not frightened. He must believe that, while it would be too taxing for one session that was to be followed by a several hours long social gathering, it wouldn't be impossible for Draco to accomplish. Severus looked with suspicion at the glasses adorning Potter's face.

Severus watched Potter as Potter continued to watch Draco intently but still did not interfere. The boy was attentive, intent, irritated, and was that…proud? Severus was taken off guard by the relieved pleasure he felt at the thought of Potter being proud of Draco. He thought a moment then realized, yes, he was glad that his son had someone else that could express pride at his accomplishments.

Fifteen minutes later Draco lowered his hands and blinked dazedly. He said a bit slowly, "The eye is back now but I can't fix the focus tonight, or increase the visual field. I'll have to do that later."

Severus set that statement aside for the moment and watched in amusement as the tiny woman flung herself onto his son and started sobbing. He wasn't sure which he found more amusing: Draco's obvious alarm and pleading expression in Potter's direction, or Potter's response of a raised eyebrow that clearly communicated "what did you expect?" A minute later, though, Potter did take pity on Draco and took over calming the woman.

Severus watched as Potter spent the next couple minutes encouraging what was very likely a calming potion into the hysterical female. "Smart boy," he thought. When the woman calmed sufficiently he watched as another potion was encouraged into her. Several moments later a light fuzz appeared on the woman's head. Ah, hair-growth. Obviously Potter had come prepared. "Very good, Potter."

Another set of strangling hugs from the tiny woman and Potter helped her to her feet and once again walked her around the semi-circle of witnesses. Even Severus looked intently at the new eye and fuzz of hair as the woman passed in front of him. Stopping behind a still kneeling Draco, Potter stared down the assembly. Several people fidgeted. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Dost thee accept the Proving of my charge?" Potter demanded imperiously, his whole demeanor screaming retribution to any who denied him.

"Aye," rumbled the crowed immediately. No one wanted on the bad side of the Guardian.

"Smart crowd," Severus thought. He rather believed that Potter probably wasn't posturing in his apparent willingness to wreak havoc if he was refused.

"So be it," Potter said.

Potter then led the woman back to her quietly tearful husband while the entire assemblage remained silent, staring in awe at the woman or Draco or even Potter. Severus admitted that he was fairly impressed with all three himself.

Potter walked back over to Draco and knelt behind him. "You are a stubborn git," Potter said sternly. The utter silence of the crowd allowed the words to carry easily.

Draco snorted but leaned back into Potter's support. "This is news to you how?" Severus wanted to snort at Draco's sarcasm. Obviously his son wasn't planning on being subservient.

Potter huffed. "Quiet," he instructed. "Breathe."

Draco closed his eyes as Potter brought his left arm around Draco's waist and his right arm up to hold his hand over Draco's solar plexus. Potter closed his eyes and moments later his right hand started to glow. Gasps and exclamations echoed loudly in the Hall before it once again fell silent. Even Severus sucked in a surprised breath.

Only strongly bonded pairs could shunt magic between them to rejuvenate a drained partner. And only if both partners had sufficient control and focus of their magic. Such skill wasn't usually acquired until a wizard's mid-twenties at least. Of course, he knew Draco was sufficiently disciplined; Severus had trained his son himself. But Potter?

Less than a minute later the glow faded and Potter opened his eyes. "Better?" he asked. Severus raised an eyebrow at the true concern for Draco in Potter's tone.

"Yes, thank you," Draco said, opening his own eyes.

"No more healing the rest of the night," Potter said. Severus wondered how Draco would respond to such a restriction.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Fine." Well, now, wasn't that interesting. Severus knew his son well and could see that he would obey, that he was only making a token protest for form's sake.

"I mean it," Potter said firmly.

"Yes, yes," Draco said dismissively, flapping his hands. "Get on with it."

This time it was Potter who rolled his eyes but he nevertheless rose and assisted Draco to his feet. Turning to the audience, Potter spread his arms wide, grinned, and said, "Let us celebrate!"

Potter clapped his hands together loudly and the steps started to lower, jolting everyone into a flurry of comments and conversation. Severus merely stood and awaited the arrival of his son, for once patiently listening to the comments of his coworkers. There were several exclamations starting with "Merlin…" or "Did you see…" or "Can you believe…" or "I never…"

His favorite so far was from a gobsmacked Albus, who was standing to his left: "Goodness, Severus. I think I need to talk to young Harry." Albus certainly did. But Severus was going to get to him first. It gave him a naughty sense of triumph.

Draco pulled his braid to the front so that the view of the back of his robes would be unimpeded; he wanted everyone to get the full impact of the image. A unicorn may be the expected traditional image to see on the back of a Healer's robes, but his unicorn was different and he wanted everyone to know. Partly he wanted everyone to take a second, third, or fourth look at the boy they thought they all knew. And they would once word got around that Harry had done the embroidery himself, and with unicorn hair as well. It was time the world got a peek at the real Harry Potter and gave him the respect he deserved. And partly, well, partly because Draco wanted people to drool over him. It was his night, after all. Let them be envious.

Harry turned his head to Draco. "Shall we?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. He wasn't looking forward to meeting Draco's parents but, then again, he couldn't image they would actually address him. And that was just fine by Harry.

"Certainly," Draco said then smiled. "My parents are going to try and insult you, you know. All very properly, of course."

Harry snorted. "Yes, of course. I trust you to defend my honor, my brave hero," Harry said with fake adoration and a fluttering of lashes.

Draco just laughed and led Harry over to Lucius and Narcissa. Etiquette demanded that he greet his sire and dam before his godfather. A shame, really, but he was going to have some fun with his parents' preconceptions. Harry trailed along behind him in a guard's position; it was the position he would keep all evening, being acknowledged openly only occasionally for his part in Draco's transition. Harry would also field all inquiries about contracting Draco's services.

"Hello, Father," Draco said, bowing to his father.

"My son," Lucius replied with an inclination of his head. "Congratulations on your Gift. You have applied yourself greatly to display so well your skills this night."

"Thank you, Father. I have indeed been applying myself and Harry has been an excellent guide, as well," Draco said. He was going to get Harry's name out into this conversation immediately. Might as well tell Lucius up front that his son and heir was going to be siding with Harry Potter.

Lucius narrowed his eyes in anger and flicked a quick dismissive gaze towards Harry then replied cordially, "Is that so? He encouraged your ideas, then?"

Ah, there was the insult to Harry's intelligence. "Yes, of course," Draco replied with a tight smile. "We've had any number of conversations about various possibilities that have occurred to us. Then there are the books Harry purchased for me; they have been quite informative thus far." A little luck and Lucius would take that comment and twist it to attempt an insult on Harry's capacity as mentor.

"I'm glad to hear he was able to provide you with appropriate reading material. I'm sure Flourish and Blotts had several decent tomes on Healing," Lucius said with only faintest of snideness in his tone. The Malfoys did not shop at the common store of Flourish and Blotts for anything other than Draco's textbooks.

"Several?" Draco laughed lightly and shook his head in amusement. He looked back to Harry's slowly flushing countenance and said. "I'll have to buy a new wizard-spaced trunk to fit all the books he ordered," Draco teased affectionately. As he drew his gaze back to his father he noticed Severus intently studying Harry's reaction.

Lucius frowned slightly at Draco's reply. "Indeed? I was not aware Flourish and Blotts had such a wide selection."

Draco furrowed his brow then said in puzzlement, "You're right, Father. They do not. Or, at least, they did not the last time we were there." Turning slightly towards Harry, Draco asked curiously, "Harry? Where did you get all those books?"

Still slightly red, Harry answered calmly, "Most of them are from the bookshop run by St. Mungo's. Since I know you are able to read French fluently, I also bought some from St. Germaine's." He didn't mention anything about the muggle books as he figured, rightly, that mentioning them would detract from the counter-insults that Draco was issuing on his behalf.

Draco blinked. "I don't think I've seen the ones in French," he questioned.

Harry said, "They arrived this morning."

Harry flushed a bit brighter when Draco simply lifted an amused and knowing eyebrow in response. Evidently, Harry had gone to St. Germaine's sometime during his time-turned week. Obviously Harry hadn't planned on saying anything about it and now he was caught out. Draco turned back to his father.

"I'm glad to know you've had an enlightening week. Your mother and I were concerned," Lucius said smoothly, bringing Narcissa closer so as to pass along the conversation.

"That's right, Father, best give up now while you're only a little behind," Draco thought a bit vindictively.

"Yes, Draco, you disappeared with no warning and with someone so unexpected. We didn't know what to think," Narcissa said, putting her hand daintily on Draco's arm.

"I am well, Mother," Draco replied, kissing her cheek. Draco's smile was as bland as his mother's.

"Turn around and let me see your embroidery, Draco. It must be exceptional; I've heard several comments about it already," Narcissa said.

"So the robes will be insulted first," Draco thought and turned. "Do make your first strike, Mother."

"This is exquisite work, darling," Narcissa praised, "and your robes are finely done. You chose an excellent designer. Who made these for you?"

Draco resolutely kept the nastiness from his smile and his voice as he turned back around and replied, "I don't know who made them, Mother. They were a gift." One again he turned towards Harry, privately exulting in the slightly blanched face of his mother as her underhanded snipe backfired spectacularly. "Harry?"

Harry smiled at Draco. Both pretended to not be aware of all the spectators who were being very careful to hear every word while appearing to not be avidly listening. "All our clothes today were made by Corinne and Adrien Metais."

"Really?" Draco said, surprised. "I didn't think to put together… Well, it looks as if I will get my wish sooner than I thought to relay my appreciation to your designer."

"Truly," Harry agreed with a smile. "I'm sure she will be pleased to speak with you. The two of you can gang up on my wardrobe," he teased. "She's been after me for years." He was fully aware that he was adding fuel to the rumors by admitting to knowing the famous designer.

Draco chuckled lightly. "Maybe we will." He turned back to his mother with a pleasant expression.

"We shouldn't keep you. We will see you tonight and all day tomorrow. Greet your godfather, darling," Narcissa said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Not up for round two, Mother?" Draco thought snidely, only slightly disappointed she hadn't taken a decent look at his clasps. Severus would, he knew, so he would still get that little jab in since she would be standing so close. Out loud, he simply agreed pleasantly, "Of course, Mother. I will see you later." He kissed her cheek again and stepped over to the man he really wanted to greet.

"Parrain," Draco said, kissing Severus on the cheek and grasping his shoulders to give him a light hug. Draco wanted to cling to the man for a moment, but took comfort in what he could get while in public.

"Filleul," Severus responded with his own acceptable-under-the-circumstances kiss and light hug.

Severus stepped back and Draco could see the amusement in his eyes over the encounters with Lucius and Narcissa. Draco kept still as Severus ran a long finger over the robe. "Acromantula silk?" he asked.

Draco nodded. "Yes." He noted the twitters among the not-listeners.

Severus traced a rune. "Unicorn hair," he said. He glanced up at Potter. "I can feel protection spells in the runes, Potter. Your doing?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry answered politely. "I spelled the strands and then embroidered them."

Severus raised an eyebrow at that admission then turned his attention back to Draco. Draco looked at his godfather in mild surprise; he was practically being complimentary to someone he'd always criticized. "Turn, Draco. Let me see the image. It seems to be creating quite the stir and I am curious to see what could earn your mother's praise."

Draco smiled slightly and turned obligingly to show his back. He felt the weight of Severus gaze on the image for nearly a full minute. The combined power of so many unicorn hairs exuding from the image of the stallion seemed to greatly affect his godfather. Eventually, Severus asked, "Did you embroider this as well, Potter?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry answered, again politely. A moment later he added, "It is an image of the herd stallion that was so generous as to provide the hairs. He was an amazing animal." Harry figured he might as well keep adding to the flurry of rumors that were going to fly tonight.

"Yes, I can see that," Severus said. He touched Draco's shoulder to prompt the boy to turn back around. Severus turned his attention to the large clasp and lifted it in his open palm. He looked up at Harry, who was watching Severus dispassionately.

"This is unicorn horn," Severus said.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. Harry could feel the vindictive satisfaction from Draco as Narcissa and Lucius paled in shock and the not-listeners gasped nearly as one before they started chattering, though still softly enough to overhear anything else of interest. Merlin forbid they miss anything of the semi-private conversation.

"And did this also come from the herd stallion?" Severus asked. He doubted it. The embroidery could be done in a week, but the clasp was too detailed.

"No, that is a legacy from the Potter vaults," Harry said. "It was made in 1610." More murmurs spread at the information that Harry had been into the family vaults before his majority. Those from older families would know exactly what he would have to have done to get access.

Severus looked at Harry another moment before returning his attention to the clasp. It was beyond beautiful. A masterwork. It was truly a legacy piece. He lowered the clasp then lifted a small one. Releasing the clasp, Severus stepped back. Looking at Harry, he inclined his head in respect and said, "You have provided exceptionally for my godson. My thanks."

Surprise flashed through Harry's eyes before he gave a small bow and responded, "It was my honor."

Severus turned to Draco. Draco could see the pride in Severus' eyes, for Draco's Gift and for Draco's choice of partner. He knew then that Harry and Severus would make peace, eventually, if for no other reason than they were both important to Draco. "As your mother has said, I should not keep you. I will see you again tonight."

"Of course, Parrain," Draco said and kissed Severus' cheek again before stepping over to the Headmaster.

Harry gave Severus a last lingering look as he followed Draco to the Headmaster. Severus Snape had been downright cordial. His expression had relayed nothing but a calculating interest and respect. Evidently Harry wasn't the only one doing a bit of reevaluation. The Headmaster's greeting brought Harry's attention back to Draco.

"Congratulations, my boy! Congratulations!" the Headmaster said exuberantly, placing his hands on Draco's shoulders with a joyful smile.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Draco replied, feeling a bit odd with the man's hands on him but not shaking them off.

"To be a Healer, ah, it is a wondrous Gift," the Headmaster went on in a jovial tone.

Draco merely nodded.

"You must be careful, though," the Headmaster admonished lightly. "Let Harry help you from getting over-extended. I was very good friends with Sebastian Sutter, you know. It's why I'm in such good health," he said with a beaming smile, "but I must say he was often frazzled from pushing himself too hard. You must let Harry help you."

"Yes, Headmaster, of course," Draco replied, surprised. He could see that the Headmaster truly was happy and concerned for him. He placed a hand over the Headmaster's in a sign of acquiescence and comfort and immediately felt something odd from the skin to skin contact. Sending out his magic a bit, he was suddenly taken aback at the sense of the man's age. He could feel the readiness to leave the corporeal world and suddenly he understood exactly what Harry meant when he said the headmaster was old and tired. The hand under his disappeared and Draco's attention was brought back to the man before him.

"Now, now, my boy, none of that," Dumbledore said gently. "You enjoy your evening." Turning to Harry, the Headmaster said, "You'll see that he doesn't over-tax himself, won't you, Harry?"

"Yes, of course, Headmaster," Harry replied seriously, wondering just what had happened. He had seen Draco's eyes glaze for a moment and the Headmaster's expression gentle in some kind of understanding.

"Perhaps you could come to my office some time this week, my boy, and regale me with the creative insults I'm sure Mister Malfoy came up with during his transition," the Headmaster said with a sly smile and a wink to the young wizards.

Draco flushed and Harry laughed. "Yes, of course, Headmaster."

"Merlin, Draco," came Harry's pained whisper into Draco's ear, "Please tell me not all of your year-mates and their parents are like the Parkinsons."

Draco snickered. "Only half of them."

"Oh, Merlin," Harry said distressed.

"You'll survive," Draco said in amusement.

"I won't," Harry avowed. "Any more sickeningly sweet compliments and flattery and I'll turn into a lump of sugar. Then I'll dissolve in all these fake tears."

Draco snickered again and turned at the new voice, "Congratulations, Malfoy."

"Thank you, Longbottom. And who is this lovely lady?" Draco said charmingly, hiding his surprise at the sincerity in Longbottom's voice.

"Malfoy, please meet my grandmother, Augusta Longbottom. Grandmother, please meet my schoolmate, Draco Malfoy," Neville said.

"A pleasure to meet you, Madam," Draco said and bowed over her hand. Or tried to. He dropped it quickly and pulled it back when he felt a shock run through his system. The woman was in pain! Somehow her pain had spiraled through his Healer's senses for a moment and Draco had felt what she felt. He looked at her and flushed, trying to stammer an apology for his rudeness. She cut him off.

"My apologies, Healer. Had I known you would be able to sense my condition, I would have kept from touching you and causing you distress. Please forgive me," Augusta Longbottom said sincerely. She certainly hadn't meant for the young man to feel the lingering pain of the joint damaging curse she had suffered in the last war.

Draco collected himself and replied reassuringly, "Of course, madam. No harm done. I'm sure it is just my inexperience."

"Draco?" Harry asked in concern.

"I'm fine, Harry," Draco said but it was obvious to Harry that Draco had been badly startled.

Harry placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and sent reassurance and protection through the bond. Draco closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths and relaxed, letting the bond sooth his jangled nerves.

"I think that's it for kissing the ladies, hmmm?" Harry said, trying to make light of the situation so as not to embarrass Draco with his lapse of composure.

Draco gave a weak laugh but said, "Perhaps so." Opening his eyes he turned his attention back to the Longbottoms. "You are having a pleasant evening, I hope?"

Both Longbottoms agreed they were having a lovely time and congratulated him again on his Gift. Then Neville turned to Harry and said with a perfectly straight face, "I must thank you, Harry, for arranging such a variety of lizard's eyeballs. I've been eating them all night."

Harry grinned. "You're welcome, Neville. In fact, I was thinking of you when I asked for them. I told the house-elves to send any remainders to you. I hope you don't mind?"

Neville grinned back, "I look forward to it." Neville bowed and led his grandmother off towards another group of people.

Draco turned to Harry as the Longbottoms wandered away, not yet acknowledging the new set of well-wishers that were approaching. "Lizard's eyeballs?" he asked in confusion.

"Sugar-coated nuts," Harry replied with a grin.

"Turkles?" Draco asked, still confused.

"Yes," Harry said still grinning.

Draco looked at Harry suspiciously. "You are weird."

Harry merely snickered and remained silent.

Draco turned resolutely to greet another schoolmate and their family. He wasn't sure he wanted in on that obviously private joke between Harry and Longbottom.

"And the greatest of congratulations to you, Heir Malfoy, on your most wondrous Gift," one twin said while both bowed with excessive flair.

Draco couldn't keep his lips from twitching slightly as his own amusement was doubled from Harry through the bond.

"Thank you, Messieurs Weasley," Draco said graciously, returning the bow.

The second twin, Draco was not going to bother figuring out which one was which, said melodramatically, though still sincerely, "We are quite honored to have been invited to this most illustrious of celebrations. I hope you don't mind we've been using the occasion to boast of our new business." Exaggerated winks were sent in Draco's direction.

Draco gave a smirk. "No, of course not. I hear you are doing well, already with contracts in France and America and Greece."

The twins both smirked back at him and he could, like a kind of echo, sense their feelings of surprised gratitude through his bond to Harry. "Alas," Twin One said with mock sorrow, "our contract in Greece is not yet finalized. However," he leaned in conspiratorially, though his voice still carried to all those not-listening ears, "we have signed a contract just this morning with a business in Japan."

"Japan," Draco said with the appropriate astonishment.

"Yes," said Twin Two, nodding earnestly, "only for a single line of our multitude of offerings, you understand, yet it shall cause us to double their production. Again."

"Most auspicious," agreed Draco. "Perhaps when business calms somewhat you might have a gathering of your business partners to introduce them to Britain."

"An excellent idea, my good man!" Twin One said brightly. "We will be sure to invite you."

"Thank you," Draco said. "I look forward to it." And he did. You never knew when worldwide contacts would be beneficial.

"Of course, you know our younger brother, Ronald, and his friend Hermione Granger," Twin Two said and dragged forth an obviously steaming redhead. Said steaming redhead grimaced as the grip on his arm was tightened a moment before it was released.

"Of course. Good evening, Weasley, Granger," Draco said politely, nodding his head. He sent a plea to the four founders that Ron Weasley kept his mouth shut if he couldn't say anything polite. He did not want a scene at his Presentation. He felt reassurance through the bond and relaxed slightly. No doubt Harry was ready to silence the fool if one wrong word was said. Plus, the twins looked slightly intimidating as well…

Ron Weasley turned even more red and ground his teeth. It was obvious that he really wanted to be anywhere but where he was. Nevertheless, Ronald Weasley gave a short and not completely graceless bow and ground out, "Congratulations, Malfoy."

Draco bowed back and said mildly, "Thank you."

Ron was immediately dragged back by a twin, his jaw still clenched and his face still red. Hermione stepped forward and curtsied but did not offer her hand. The incident with Augusta Longbottom had made the rounds in the Great Hall in less than fifteen minutes. "Congratulations, Malfoy. Healer is a wonderful Gift. Perhaps you will be able to help all those people who have lingering injuries from the last war."

Draco bowed. "Perhaps, Granger. There will certainly be no little opportunities for me to practice my Gift. I have faith that my Guardian will keep me from over-extending myself, however," he replied neutrally.

Draco could see suspicion in Granger's eyes but surprisingly not nearly as much as he would have thought. It seemed she was already coming to the conclusion that he wasn't on the side of the Dark Lord. Good. Maybe she wouldn't give Harry too hard a time and could help protect him from Weasley, who looked like he would happily dismember Draco or Harry if given half the chance.

Draco wasn't sure which twin it was that said, "Well, it's been a pleasure! Have a most excellent evening, gents. We'll be off now," before dragging off his still red-faced, teeth-grinding, murderous-looking younger brother. The others in the small group followed.

"Well," Harry said blandly, "that went a lot better than I could have hoped."

"Thank Merlin," Draco said with relief.

"Truly."

"How many calling cards did you receive?" Draco asked, placing his finished glass of punch on the reception table.

"Several thousand," Harry replied distractedly from where he was poking his finger through the gift basket with his name on it. The basket held hundreds of miniaturized gift boxes. The largest by far that he'd seen was a three inch cube. He wondered what was in that one.

Draco looked up sharply from his attentions the floating plate of fruit-flavored petit fours. "But there were only about five hundred people here!" he said in surprise.

"I know," Harry snorted. "And that's not even counting the ones that were left here instead of handed to me directly." Harry waved a hand over at a smaller basket that appeared full of calling cards.

Draco poked through the cards a bit in curiosity while taking a bite of his chosen confection. "Hmmm. Nothing odd here. Mostly the students, teachers, and my extended family," he said a few moments later, reaching for another petit four.

"Hmmm," Harry said, still poking through his gift basket. It was nearly terrifying looking at just how many presents there were. "If I was approached, I never received less than five cards and usually a lot more than that. The person making contact with me would give me their card and then pass along the cards of their spouse, children, family, friends, business associates, and neighbor's gardener."

Draco laughed.

"I'm serious," Harry said with a quick smile in Draco's direction.

"No way," Draco said. He looked shocked.

"Oh, yes," Harry said, enjoying the astonishment on Draco's face. "Although my favorite came from the Spanish Ambassador."

"Really?" Draco asked warily.

"He handed me a four inch tall stack and said simply "From everyone in my country who asked me to pass along their cards." I had to admire the man's forthrightness," Harry said in amusement.

"But, why?" Draco asked, stunned. "They wouldn't have known what my Gift was. Why send cards?"

"I guess they didn't care," Harry replied. "Evidently there's not been a Spanish Gifted wizard for nearly a hundred years. I imagine they figured they could find a use for your services no matter what Gift you received."

"Oh," Draco said, nonplussed. He returned his befuddled attention to the remaining petit fours. Maybe strawberry? The raspberry one had been too sweet.

"You know it's going to take us forever to get through all these presents and write thank you notes," Harry said, somewhat overwhelmed.

Draco looked up and smiled a bit at Harry's distressed state. "Don't worry, Harry. I'll help you."

"Thanks," Harry said with relief. "I just …there's so many," he finished lamely, staring at the gift basket as if it might attack him.

Draco chuckled. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and leaned in to murmur, "Father's on his way over. Are you ready?"

Harry grimaced but nodded and turned when he heard Lucius' approach.

"Draco, Mister Potter. We will expect you in an hour after you escort Severus to his quarters," Lucius informed them stiffly.

"Of course, Father," Draco said. He watched silently as his father collected his mother and his parents left the Great Hall for Hogwarts' guest quarters.

"We'd better get moving," Harry said.

Draco nodded, still watching the door his parents had walked through. Turning his attention to Harry, he asked, "Where are you having the baskets delivered?" He did not want them sent to his parents' quarters.

"Snape's rooms," Harry answered. "I didn't think you'd mind and I figured they would be safest there."

Draco relaxed. "Good. Thank you," he said in relief. "Let's go get Severus, then."

Draco walked over to where his godfather was conversing with the Headmaster and Professor Flitwick. The Charms teacher had shocked both Draco and Harry when he'd asked if Harry was now going to show his true potential in class. Draco had laughed as Harry had flushed and stammered an affirmative.

Severus turned his head towards Draco when he arrived. "Ready to leave, Draco?"

"Yes, Parrain," Draco said respectfully.

"Good. It is getting to be quite late enough," Severus said briskly. And it was. It was nearly eleven o'clock. "Headmaster. Filius. Have a good night." Turning away after the return pleasantries, Severus matched his stride to Draco's and accompanied him out of the Great Hall.

The walk to Severus' quarters was filled with talk of inconsequential things relating to school and potions. Harry wanted to snort at how very proper the two were acting. He settled for examining the back of the well-dressed, well-groomed, amazingly pleasant godfather of his charge. It didn't allow Harry to puzzle out the man any, but it did keep him occupied.

After the three had stepped into Severus' quarters, Harry was shocked speechless twice over. One, the room was comfortably decorated in maroons and creams and browns. Why, you could almost see Gryffindor colors if you squinted! And two, Draco and Snape were now hugging each other fiercely. Right in front of him!

Several minutes later Severus pushed Draco away reluctantly. "You should not linger here, Draco," he said. "Tradition may give us an hour but you can be certain Lucius will be angry should you actually take it."

Harry shook himself and regained his equilibrium. He stepped forward and Snape's attention turned to him. "Is it not tradition to spend the remainder of the night and the next day with parents?" he asked.

"It would be my joy, Mister Potter, but it would be impossible," Severus said a bit stiffly.

Harry held out a fist and opened his hand to reveal the familiar shape of a time-turner. "We would stay here until ten o'clock tomorrow night, if you will have us," he said politely. Harry had asked Salazar for the daily time-turner this morning, just before returning to Draco. He hadn't mentioned the fact to his bond-mate, though he hadn't meant this to be a surprise. Harry had simply forgotten to mention it.

Severus stared at the little device, ignoring the surprised and delighted gasp of his son. "Indeed," he said mildly. Well, that explained why the boy looked older. Severus wondered how much older the boy actually was. He looked up and offered, "Brandy?"

A small glass of brandy and thirty minutes later found Draco and Harry in Severus' guest room getting ready for bed. Draco wondered, now that they were in private, how long it would take Harry to scold him for earlier. Draco figured it wouldn't be long now, he could feel a watchfulness over the bond. He was actually looking forward to it. It might seem odd, but it felt nice to have the other boy worry about him and care enough to put forth the effort to chastise him.

Once they had taken their turns in the bathroom and were completely ready for bed, Harry said, "You know, Draco, you didn't have to regenerate Corinne's eye tonight…"

Draco lowered his head and smiled.

Chapter 15 - Sunday, 20 October 1996 and Epilogue

"Might you tell me where you were this past week that you could not be found?" Severus asked mildly, cutting a piece of sausage.

"Perhaps. Are you truly interested in such a small thing?" Harry asked casually, leaning back from the dining table and swirling his breakfast tea. Draco watched the interchange silently and ate his eggs.

Severus blinked, then blinked again, then raised his eyebrows, unable to completely hide his astonishment at Harry's question. "Why, Mister Potter, what a positively Slytherin question," he said.

And it was. The "perhaps" said that Harry was willing to trust him with the information. The "truly interested" was essentially asking him if he would be willing and able to keep the answer to himself. The "small thing" told Severus that wherever they had gone was quite secure and there was no need for him to be worried should the two boys decide to return there upon occasion. It was an entire conversation in less than a dozen words. He was impressed.

Harry smirked. "Thank you."

Severus sat back in his armchair and chewed his bit of sausage, considering the real questions he had been asked and studying the young man across from him. The young man unabashedly studied him back; he was quiet, calmly waiting for a response.

Severus mused that he was having a much easier time with Potter's presence than he thought he would. The young man across from him was just that: a man. Replacing the arrogant and brash boy was a man who held himself with quiet confidence. Replacing the abysmal and uncaring student was a man with intelligent and calculating eyes. Replacing the foolhardy Gryffindor was a cunning Slytherin. There was no James Potter in the man sitting across the table from him. Severus wondered when and how this had happened. He wondered how long this man had been deliberately hiding underneath the boy.

Finally, Severus nodded slowly, looking Harry in the eyes. "Yes," he said, "I am truly interested."

Harry smirked at his professor; he couldn't wait for the reaction! In the back of his mind he felt an equally wicked anticipation from Draco. "We were in the Founder's Quarters. Specifically, we were in the master suite of Salazar Slytherin's Quarters."

Severus face slackened in astonishment. The Founder's Quarters! It was rumored that the Founders had their own library, comprehensive of their day, within the confines of their Quarters, safe from unworthy students. How he would love to see it! Imagine all the lost knowledge it might contain! Severus frowned then. What about the Dark Lord? Surely if Potter had found and could access Salazar's Quarters then so could the Dark Lord. But, no; Harry had, well, not-said, that the place was safe from intruders. How could this be?

"I presume the Dark Lord would be denied entrance?" he asked blandly, seeking a confirmation of Potter's previous statement.

Harry took a sip of tea and watched his professor. Even though the reaction had been less than another might show, seeing the small signs of the tightly controlled man's astonishment had been quite satisfying. Harry wondered how the professor would react to his next statement. "Tom Riddle is no heir of Salazar," he said casually.

Severus eyebrows rose once again. Glancing at Draco's bland face and back to Potter's apparently unconcerned countenance, Severus said mildly, "Indeed." Taking another bit of sausage, Severus considered what information that statement imparted.

It seemed Potter had access to something of Salazar's. Given Draco's expression it was probably a painting, and one that Draco had met. The familiarity of the first name suggested that Potter knew Salazar's painting quite well and, therefore, had been to the Founder's Quarters on a fairly regular basis. Severus wondered how Potter managed that without anyone catching on and then remembered the time turner. Of course. Potter could spend whole days with Salazar and not seem to go missing. And it seemed Salazar's painting did not approve of the Dark Lord's actions so was likely helping to train Potter to defeat him.

Severus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Just how much time had Potter spent with that painting? Given Potter's physique…"And you found this out, when?" he asked, meaning How long have you been going there? He figured Potter, this Slytherin Potter, would understand exactly what he was really asking.

Harry smiled appreciatively. He was truly enjoying their oh-so-casual conversation. It was nice to talk to someone who understood the meaning beneath the words. "About three weeks into my third year," he responded.

"Interesting," Severus replied. So, Potter had been meeting with Salazar for three years. That would certainly account for the polish Potter displayed but there must have already been the seeds of this man beforehand. Severus wondered how they'd been planted, it certainly wasn't any inheritance from James. Well, he would puzzle it out later; it was time for a new topic.

"You do realize that several of the Slytherins will do their best to inhibit you spending time together, yes?" Severus asked, meaning "How will you maintain your relationship and continue Draco's training when faced by Lucius' and the Dark Lord's opposition?"

"That's all right. I've had experience with uncooperative snakes before," Harry replied with a mischievous smile.

Severus raised his eyebrows as Draco snickered at Harry's words. "Indeed." There must be more meaning to that sentence than simply "Don't worry. We've got a plan." Maybe they would tell him one day.

"The Headmaster was quite concerned about your absence." "You can expect to be interrogated on Monday."

"Is that so?" "I can keep my secrets from curious old men."

"Your friends have also been quite agitated." "Are you really prepared to choose Draco over your Gryffindor friends?"

"I'll speak with them." "I'll not abandon Draco no matter if they disapprove."

"The newspaper has had a number of articles ever since the invitations arrived." "Are you prepared for the publicity and censure that you will receive from what you've done as well as any further affiliation you engage in?"

"I imagine they'll have many more before they find a new scandal to lie about." "Let them say what they want. I'll not abandon Draco."

"Lucius and the Dark Lord have been somewhat upset at this development." "Lucius will present Draco to the Dark Lord the moment he steps out of this castle."

"I hope they haven't given you too much trouble." "Are you well? Did you get tortured very much about what happened?"

"No, not much. Still, they'll be upset for some time, I imagine." "I'm fine. Answer the question."

"Ah, well. If Lucius storms the castle I supposed I can always hide again." "I'll hide Draco away in the Founder's Quarters before I allow him to be taken to the Dark Lord against his will."

"It might not be you he comes after." "And if Draco is alone?"

"I'm sure Draco knows several hiding places. "Draco can get there without me."

"Of course he does." "Good."

Draco nibbled his toast, idly amused by the double conversation happening in front of him. This was going very well, this meeting between his father and Harry. He could see the approval growing in Severus' eyes - Severus always did like the subtleties of a good dialogue. Draco was glad that his godfather was assessing the situation as it was and not falling back on his old patterns or beliefs; he must have spent some time searching his memories for what Draco had already seen and at least somewhat come to terms with Harry as Draco's transition partner. He hoped it hadn't been too traumatic an experience.

"Checkmate," Severus said as he moved his knight.

Draco sighed and toppled his king.

"You must be tired, Draco," Severus said in concern. "Your game is not up to its usual standards."

Draco looked up. "I am tired. Leftover from last night, I imagine," he said.

"Perhaps you should rest. You should be prepared for when you go to your parents tonight," Severus said, allowing a grimace to quickly cross his face at the thought of the day Draco was going to have to suffer through with his parents.

Draco grimaced as well but nodded his agreement. He stood and walked towards the sofa. "Harry?"

Harry looked up from his book to see Draco approaching him. "You look tired. Do you want to take a nap?" Harry asked.

Draco chuckled. "Severus just said the same thing," he said in amusement.

Harry darted a glance over at the older man and said, "Oh? Well, maybe you should nap, then, if we both think so."

Draco nodded and pulled Harry up from the couch and led him over to the chess table. Pushing Harry into the still warm seat Draco had vacated, Draco said, "You play chess with Severus and I'll go sleep. Play nice," he admonished them both with a suspicious glare before heading towards the guest room.

Harry stared at the chessboard glumly. "I don't like chess. I always lose."

Face impassive, Severus pressed a square symbol on the side of the board causing it to quickly morph. "Backgammon?" Severus offered.

Surprised, Harry only nodded.

They set up the game and played several turns before Severus asked, "How old are you, Mister Potter?"

Harry glanced up momentarily then moved his pieces and answered, "About seventeen and a half."

"Hmmm."

Several more turns were played.

Harry offered his own question. "How long have you had that potion on the sixth year curriculum?"

"Since I started here," Severus answered after a slight pause.

More silence. More dice rolls. More pieces moved.

"What is your Gift," Severus asked.

Harry paused in the middle of about to roll the dice to stare at the Potions Master. Then he started to laugh. The man hadn't asked "Did you really have a transition?" or "Are you Gifted?" but had bypassed two relatively useless yes/no questions and had gone straight for what he really wanted to know about what he must have surmised.

"Been thinking about things, have you?" Harry asked. "Draco warned me you would."

Severus merely nodded once and continued to stare at the young man across from him.

Harry rolled the dice and moved his pieces.

"You will remain silent?" Harry asked. "Not even Draco knows. I will tell him at Easter. I don't want him to think about how to express my Gift just yet, but focus on his own."

Severus picked up the dice and rolled them in his fingers contemplatively. "Yes, I will remain silent," he said, watching the young man thoughtfully.

Harry nodded and closed his eyes. Feeling the bond to ensure that Draco was actually sleeping, he released the glamour over his hair.

Severus sucked in a breath as he stared at the long red-streaked hair. "Fire," he breathed. Looking at Harry with a flash of hope he asked, "Can you produce Phoenix Fire?"

Harry fidgeted then shook his head slowly. The hope died in Severus' eyes. Harry said haltingly, "Not yet. I think…I think I might be able to get it, though. Draco…" He stopped, unsure, but then continued as the older man waited patiently for him to get out whatever he wanted to say. "The bond with Draco is grounding me."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "Already?"

Harry nodded. "The bond probably won't become completely exclusionary for a couple years yet, but it's well on its way. I think even if we stopped having sex that it would still become exclusionary eventually."

Severus set down the dice and leaned his elbows on the board, steepling his fingers. "That's not unusual for Gifted partners," he said.

Harry shrugged. "Only about a quarter form exclusionary bonds."

"True," Severus replied noncommittally. "How much time will you need to accomplish Phoenix Fire?"

Harry looked at the spy gravely, "How much time do I have?"

"Less than a year," Severus replied honestly.

Harry winced but squared his shoulders, "So be it."

"I will help you," Severus offered.

Harry's eyes widened in shock. His first reaction was to refuse; the man had always been cruel to him and his apparent teaching skills were abysmal. But…it was obvious the professor was finally seeing Harry for Harry, not to mention Severus had been the one to teach Draco apparition and wards, neither skill of which could be learned from a book or from an incompetent teacher. Slowly, still a bit leery, he nodded.

Surprise flashed in Severus' eyes followed closely by respect. He hadn't expected Harry Potter to set aside their past and accept his help, even if the young man had done just that for Draco. "Do you wish to continue training where you have been or shall I make other arrangements," Severus asked. He was essentially asking if Harry was willing to reveal more of his secrets.

Harry thought a moment then said, "We should use my spot. It's large enough that we won't get hurt if I have to release a fireball."

Severus nodded and leaned back, reaching for the dice. He said nothing about the specious reason offered for using Harry's training grounds. Severus could have found a large enough and secure enough room and they both knew it. Harry was extending an olive branch of sorts and Severus was going to plant it without any fanfare.

"There's something else," Harry said as he reapplied the glamour to hide his hair.

Surprised at the display of wandless and wordless magic, Severus asked, "How did you do that?" A moment later he waved a hand and said, "Never mind. What else?"

Harry lifted his sleeve to expose the bracelet Draco had given him and held it out for the older man's inspection.

Severus recognized the bracelet. "Constance' bracelet," he said in surprise. He looked up. "Draco gave that to you when you exchanged gifts, didn't he?"

Harry nodded and pulled his arm back. "Constance. That was the name of Draco's great-grandmother?"

"Yes," Severus said. "When she died there was quite the uproar over this bracelet as she had not detailed its disposition in her will. Everyone wanted it and no one admitted to having it. I would never have guessed it was in Draco's possession. He was only four at the time."

Harry snorted in amusement; it was just his luck to now be in possession of a contested family heirloom. "She gave it to him a few days before she died and told him to give it to someone worthy. Draco didn't tell me the other little details."

"He probably didn't know them," Severus said, then added dryly, "I recommend not revealing it to Lucius."

Harry shook his head. "I won't."

"Why show it to me?" Severus asked.

"Did you know that it didn't belong to her originally?" Harry asked.

"No?" Severus asked, mildly surprised.

Harry shook his head and said, "It belonged to her older brother, Pierre Badeau. Does that name mean anything to you?"

Severus thought for a moment then said, "It seems familiar, as if I've heard or read it somewhere."

"You probably have," Harry agreed. "He was the last Fire Gifted able to achieve Phoenix Fire. Do you know what the bracelet is made of?"

Severus nodded. "The eggshells of a Chinese Fireball dragon. Very rare. They supposedly are excellent protection against fire, though that's not been confirmed as those with such artifacts have never allowed them to be officially examined."

"Watch," Harry said and conjured a red flame above his right hand. He put the bracelet above the flame and they both watched as the flame was sucked into the bracelet with apparently no effects to the bracelet or nearby fabrics.

Severus inhaled sharply. "Again. Hotter."

Harry rolled up the sleeve of his robe so as to have a better view of the bracelet and conjured another flame in blue. Once again he placed the bracelet in the flames and once again the bracelet absorbed them.

"Hotter?" Severus asked, watching intently.

Harry nodded and conjured a small white hot flame. The same thing happened.

"Merlin," Severus breathed and looked at Harry.

"I'd tell you to cast Incendio at me, but since I'm not affected by that spell anyway it's not a good example to show the properties of the bracelet. If you want, you can put it on and I'll cast the spell. It will be absorbed," Harry offered.

"That's not necessary Mister Potter," Severus said. "How do you know its properties?"

"I read a book on Chinese Fire Elementals; Fire Gifted abilities are very similar. This," Harry said, lifting the bracelet a bit, "is how they help hone, focus, and control their power. I put out feelers months ago for Chinese Fireball eggshell but I've not yet had any bites. Now I won't need to keep looking."

"This will help you learn control?" Severus immediately saw the possibilities.

"Yes," Harry said. "Before, when I tried something and lost control, my fire would burst out and tire me. I had to stop, usually for about a day, before I could resume working with my Gift. With this bracelet I shouldn't lose control completely. When I'm about to lose control I should be able to direct the fire to the bracelet and the eggshells will dampen the power of the fire enough for me to regain control. It should let me train faster and farther than I ever could on my own."

Severus nodded thoughtfully. "Good. I will begin thinking of ways in which your fire can be trained. Come see me next week."

Harry nodded his acquiescence and Severus rolled the dice to resume the game.

"Harry, stop whining," Draco said, once again putting on his unicorn embroidered robe.

"I can't help it," Harry said glumly. "We have to go spend a whole day with them."

"You'll survive," Draco said and helped Harry into his own outer robe.

"Your father is going to look at me the whole time like I'm scum of the earth," Harry complained, shrugging into the robe.

"Probably," Draco agreed lightly, inspecting Harry's appearance.

"He'll be constantly trying to find ways to incapacitate me and take me to his master," Harry said.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Not here in Hogwarts. More likely he'll just try to recruit you."

Harry looked disgusted at the very thought. "He'll be sending off all these innuendos about you serving him and…"

"No," Draco interrupted, "He'll probably just come right out and say that."

Harry looked at him incredulously. "With me right there in the room!"

"Yes," Draco said matter-of-factly.

"Is he really that arrogant?" Harry asked in disbelief.

Draco gave Harry a look.

Harry winced. "Right. Of course he is."

"He'll know that you won't say anything against him about what he says in private," Draco said, "because he knows that despite the fact that he and I are not close that I still don't want to see him incarcerated. And you won't want to upset me."

Harry groaned. "I can't believe this. I'm going to be listening to a recruitment speech for my enemy."

"Probably more than one," Draco said brightly.

"You're not helping," Harry said sourly.

"Stop thinking about my father," Draco instructed with a shake of his head.

"I can't. If I stop thinking about him then I start thinking about your mother," Harry said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"She'll spend the time trying to insult me underhandedly," Harry said petulantly.

"Think of it as a challenge," Draco suggested.

"What?" Harry said in disbelief.

"She'll be wrong about probably everything so you can have fun insulting her back," Draco said.

"That is not a good enough incentive," Harry said sullenly.

Harry suddenly found himself pushed against the bedroom door being kissed deeply by a rather assertive Draco Malfoy. A minute later Harry looked dazedly at his smug bond-mate.

"How's that for incentive?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded.

"Good," Draco said. "Let's go meet the parents."

Harry sat stiffly next to Draco on the loveseat they had appropriated for their afternoon tea with Draco's parents. "Just a few more hours," he thought to himself. "Just a few more hours."

The prior evening had gone well enough, probably because it had consisted solely of a stiffly polite greeting and wishes for a good night's sleep before he and Draco had been excused for the evening. The morning, however, was an entirely different story.

Harry now knew exactly why Draco never talked during meals. Breakfast had been utterly silent. It was also the last bit of semi-peace Harry and Draco had had. Immediately upon the table being cleared and retiring to the sitting room, Lucius had started a conversation with Harry to subtly discover and/or influence his beliefs. Annoyed, Harry had decided to have some fun.

He could clearly recall Lucius' shocked and then gleeful face when he had agreed that muggle-borns were a danger to wizarding traditions. Harry could also clearly recall Lucius' subsequent anger and disgust when Harry had expounded his ideas on early intervention with muggle-borns and their families and his thoughts on how to allow them to grow up bi-cultural. Lucius had been furious, though still properly cordial, when Harry had asked his opinion on adding a class to Hogwarts curriculum about wizarding traditions because didn't it seem that many of the purebloods had forgotten about them, too? Draco had remained impassive but Harry could feel the other boy's laughter through the bond.

It wasn't until after the (completely silent) lunch that Lucius had admitted defeat against Harry's values and hopes and plans for the future. He'd then taken a break and let Narcissa at him. Harry had been right when he'd believed she would be the worse of the two.

Draco's mother had mercilessly, and surprisingly forthrightly, attacked his education, both formal at Hogwarts and in pureblood tradition. He'd told her bluntly that his studies were progressing to his satisfaction and that he would pit his pureblood knowledge against any of his peers any day. She hadn't been happy with his response and proceeded to essentially call him liar, intimating that it must have been Draco that had paid for and told him exactly what do with the Presentation because it was obvious he could never be a proper provider. He had glared at her in contempt and boldly displayed his Lord's ring. In a cold tone he had told her that it had been him, thank you very much, who had seen to and paid for all the arrangements for the Presentation. Would the Lord's ring sit so placidly on his hand if he were an unsatisfactory provider? The conversation had gone downhill from there.

Luckily, Narcissa hadn't lasted as long as Lucius. It was now tea-time and she'd turned the proceedings back over to her husband. Apparently, it was now time to attack Draco.

"Our Lord will be pleased to have a Gifted wizard in his service. It will be beneficial to have all his supporters in top physical condition," Lucius said pleasantly.

Draco put down his teacup and decided to accelerate the confrontation between him and his father. He wouldn't mind another few hours of testing his wit against his father, but Harry… Well, there was a reason the other boy had been able to survive in Gryffindor tower when Draco wouldn't have had a chance. And that reason was the rising anger and impatience he could feel through their bond. If something wasn't done he was afraid there would be words. Words that might infuriate both parties enough to actually begin a duel.

"I will not serve the Dark Lord," Draco said mildly.

Everyone was silent and still. Even Harry, who had known the truth, was shocked that Draco would come right out and say such a thing. He felt appreciation and support come through the bond.

Lucius' face expressed shock but it soon morphed into fury. "You will," he said angrily.

"I will not," Draco said.

"You will uphold your family name and follow the path prepared for you. I will hear no more of it," Lucius said sternly.

"I can give more honor to my family name by following my own path than by scraping my knees before some vile creature," Draco said calmly.

"You will do as I command or…"

"Do you even have any clean robes, Father?" Draco asked with a slight sneer.

Lucius stood and glared down at Draco in outrage. Draco merely looked up at him in contempt, not intimidated in the slightest. Harry looked on in wonder.

"How dare you? You will show the proper respect and behave yourself or you will find yourself without a family name!" Lucius spat out.

"You cannot disown me, Father," Draco said with a small snort of irritation.

"I will do as I must and if that is disown you to ensure no shame comes to the family then so be it," Lucius said dangerously.

"You cannot disown me, Father," Draco said, unconcerned with Lucius threat. "You can tell the whole world that you no longer claim me as son, you can even have more children, but the family magic will recognize only me as Heir. Or do you not actually believe in the traditions you spout off so proudly?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "That may be, but I can easily ensure that you not have access to the family lands or money until such time as I expire, which will not be for a century yet."

"Go ahead," Draco said indifferently.

"Do not make the mistake of thinking I am bluffing, Draconis," Lucius said dangerously.

"I'm not," Draco said with a small cold smile.

"I will ban you from the family properties and close your Gringotts account until you come to your senses," Lucius said spitefully.

Draco stood and leaned in towards his father. "Go ahead," he said softly, challengingly.

"You will be a pauper," Lucius threatened.

Draco laughed in Lucius' face then retook his seat and smiled at his father, his manner relaxed and arrogant and condescending. "I think not, my not-so-dear Father. I think not."

"It will be done before the week is out," Lucius said firmly, retaking his own seat.

Draco smiled. "Don't miss that little apartment in Seville," he offered lightly.

"Do not mock me, boy. Do you find it so amusing that you will find yourself on the streets come summer? At the mercy of filthy muggles and unable to do magic? You will be dead by September," Lucius said smugly.

Draco just continued to smile. "You are forgetting that it is I and I alone who stands to inherit the bulk of great-grandmother Constance' estate, Father."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Not until you turn seventeen. You will be dead before then with no money and no place to go, sought after as a blood traitor like a rabid dog."

"How easily you forget my Gift, Father, when you find I will not use it for your Lord," Draco said pleasantly. "I could spend my entire summer guesting at various homes in payment for my services, should I so desire. Or I could take gold from my clients and purchase appropriate lodgings. Really, Father, withdrawal of the Malfoy fortune has no bearing on my future living conditions. Your threats are immaterial."

"You will regret this defiance," Lucius stated.

"I will not," Draco returned calmly.

And that was that. Not another word was spoken before Draco and Harry took their leave at eight o'clock

Monday, 21 October 1996

Harry sat in the brightly colored chair in front of the cluttered desk and smiled brightly at the Headmaster who was smiling back cheerfully.

"You've been keeping secrets, my boy" Dumbledore said lightly.

"Not anymore than you have, Headmaster," Harry replied, equally lightly.

What followed was a lively conversation in which the only real information exchanged was about Draco: his transition, his allegiances and upcoming familial exile, and his bond to Harry. Harry eventually convinced the Headmaster that he wasn't going to get any information out of Harry that Harry wasn't completely willing part with. Harry swore he could almost see the moment in time when the Headmaster decided to try a different approach.

"Ah, my boy, if I were to know more about your abilities I would be able to perhaps offer you private tutoring," Dumbledore said with a bright smile. "To have spelled young Malfoy's robes yourself was no little bit of magic. Perhaps on the weekends you could come and study with me. It might even be best if you stayed in one of the guest quarters nearby so as to be closer to my personal library and not have to worry about revealing the specifics of your studies to your housemates."

"Thank you, Headmaster. That's a generous offer. However…"

"Mister Malfoy would of course be welcome to stay with you so he could gain the benefit of your mentorship as he explores his gift," the Headmaster continued pretending not to hear the beginnings of Harry's protest.

Harry blinked in surprise. Surely the Headmaster wasn't suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting.

"Perhaps you might arrange to have various clients come to Hogwarts at those times. If so, the visitors would certainly be more comfortable meeting in the guest quarters than in a dormitory tower or some random classroom," Dumbledore continued serenely. "And I know how much you dislike the hospital wing."

He was. Dumbledore was actually suggesting that Harry and Draco stay, together, in Hogwarts' guest quarters every weekend. Harry could only stare dumbfounded at the cheerful old wizard.

"I do hope you'll agree, my boy. Both of you could benefit greatly from private tutoring," Dumbledore finished and plucked a random hard candy from the dish on his desk to plop into his mouth.

Still speechless, Harry actually sat and contemplated the pros and cons of the Headmaster's offer. There were a lot of pros. Access to Albus Dumbledore's private library was something to be coveted; it as rumored that he had the best collection in Britain of truly advanced texts on several esoteric branches of magic, including Ritual Magic. The Founders' Library was amazing, no doubt about it, but it was a thousand years old. Harry's fingers itched with the thought of access to truly advanced books of more modern times. Plus, Harry could indeed benefit greatly from the tutelage of an actual person that could show him what to do instead of just describing it or telling him which books to read. Not that he would give up Salazar's mentorship for anything.

And Draco… To be able to help Draco unimpeded in a relatively protected environment was definitely a desirable situation. And to be able to sleep with him those nights was something he hadn't thought to hope for. But he would have to give up some up his secrets to the Headmaster. Was it worth it?

Harry contemplated the Headmaster. "Answer a question of mine, truthfully and without being cryptic, and I will relay your offer to Draco and give you our decision by Wednesday," he said.

"I will answer only if I feel the answer does not endanger anyone, Harry," Dumbledore said seriously. "You know there are many things I cannot tell you."

"Can not or will not?" Harry asked doubtfully but shook his head a moment later. "It doesn't matter. I feel I have the right to know the answer to my question and it is the only answer that might get me to reveal any of my secrets to you."

Dumbledore looked at Harry a bit sadly, seeming to understand that Harry was quite serious about not trusting him without sufficient reason. "What is your question, my boy?"

"Who set the wards at Privet Drive?" Harry asked. If it had been Dumbledore himself then Harry was determined that he would trust the Headmaster with his secrets only when the man was dead and buried. If not… Well, then it would depend, wouldn't it, on just who had set the wards.

Dumbledore looked surprised and confused for a moment before answering, "Why, Harry, your mother set the wards. Had I known that piece of information was so important to you, I would have told you long ago."

Harry froze. "…your mother set the wards."

Of course she had. Of course. Who else would have set the wards? "…your mother set the wards."

Who else would have spent the effort to set down such a spider's web of magic around that house and town? Who else would have placed such strong and esoteric protections of the like he had found in his examinations? Who else would have keyed Harry into the anti-apparition or anti-portkey wards? "…your mother set the wards."

His mother. His mother, who had just lost her parents, unable to protect them from the evil of her world. His mother, who was expecting her own child and likely knew her sister was as well. His mother, who probably was channeling her anger and grief and fear into protecting the last of her family, estranged or not, and the promise of a new generation. And Dumbledore had completely misunderstood. "…your mother set the wards."

Dumbledore had taken one look at the wards and proclaimed them a labor of love between sisters. He had not seen them as an act of desperation and atonement. Lily had obviously loved Petunia. Therefore Petunia must love Lily. And, therefore, Petunia would love her nephew. Harry couldn't breath.

"…your mother set the wards."

Of course she did.

There really wasn't any other explanation.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.

"Are you all right, Harry?" asked Dumbledore. "I'm sorry if reminding you of your mother has brought up sadness at her loss."

Harry opened his eyes and stared at his Headmaster in confusion for a moment. Sadness? Well, yes, in an abstract sort of fashion. "Mostly shock," Harry mused.

Harry stood quickly; he had to get out of here. "I'm fine, Headmaster. I will bring up your suggestions with Draco and try to convince him of its merits. Might I be excused the rest of the evening?"

"Of course, my boy," Dumbledore said kindly, "Have a good evening."

Harry left, leaving the Headmaster behind without a clue as to the turmoil engendered by his innocent answer.

One Month Later

Harry woke and wondered for a moment where Draco was. Then he remembered he was back in the Gryffindor dorms. Again. He groaned and rolled over to his belly to hide his face in his pillow. Merlin, he hated the first day back to school after a weekend. He and Draco had spent the last four nights together, two blissfully isolated days with Salazar and two blissfully isolated time-turned days with Dumbledore and Snape and whomever Draco was Healing at the time. They had done this every weekend since returning to school. Four nights together and five nights apart. It was hard but he was grateful. He really was. Four nights was more than he had thought he and Draco would be able to get away with. He had been certain they would only have had the two nights with Salazar. Dumbledore's offer had been quite a surprise.

Dumbledore had turned out to be genuinely delighted with the depth of their bond and supportive not only in strengthening it but also in developing Draco's Gift and Harry's skills. Dumbledore had kept to his word and was now providing Harry with more advanced lessons. And as expected, the Headmaster's library was a dream come true. Harry was already on his second thick book on the practical interaction of Arithmancy with Ritual Magic.

Snape had been true to his offer as well and Harry found that the man had many ideas about how to utilize his gift in a battle setting. Harry was making much quicker progress than he had in the months before. The increased control afforded by the Chinese Fireball bracelet was also of tremendous help. Phoenix Fire, however, still remained out of his reach.

Draco had jumped into his Healer's studies with a passion. He read muggle and wizarding books alternately and often accosted a random classmate for a quick lookover as per the latest theory he was reading about. As Draco would heal some small injury or alleviate a budding headache in payment for their patience, most students were more than happy to participate. It was actually becoming a bit of a light-hearted joke, with students participating in small betting pools as to who would be next.

Harry turned over to his back and contemplated the canopy of his bed. Draco's confrontation with the Headmaster had been quite amusing. Draco had accused the Headmaster of making the offer primarily so they could improve their skills for the benefit of his side of the war. Dumbledore had merely smiled brightly at this and agreed. He had then said that his motives weren't reason enough for Draco to not to fully take advantage of the opportunity and would they like to see the room they would stay in during the weekend? It hadn't taken Draco but another minute to agree.

"Get up, Harry! Time for breakfast!"

Jolted from his thoughts, Harry smiled and sat up. "I'm up! Let me shower and I'll join you."

"If you're not ready in ten minutes I'm leaving without you!"

"Yes, yes, I hear you. Save me some bacon, will you?" Harry asked, pulling open his curtains to look at the redhead that had been addressing him.

Ron Weasley shook his head, "No way, mate! You want bacon, you'll have to get down there fast enough to get it."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said in amusement, knowing full well that there would be plenty of bacon when he made in to the Great Hall. He stood and stretched then gathered his things for a trip to the showers.

Ron had finally come around to accepting the situation - as much as he was able, at any rate. Ron still felt Slytherins in general were budding dark wizards but grudgingly accepted Draco wasn't interested in serving Voldemort. What Harry found ironic was that the final piece of evidence that had convinced Ron of Draco's intentions was finding out that Draco wasn't interested in serving Dumbledore either. Draco thought this point was so important to Ron because, to him, it kept the situation from seeming too surreal and completely upended.

"Good morning, Harry."

"Good morning, Neville," Harry replied

"I really want to thank you, Harry, for helping Gran," Neville said quietly, getting ready for his shower.

Harry glanced at his dorm mate and said, "You should thank Draco. He's the one who spent the last few weekends Healing her." Harry was surprised to hear a snort.

"I tried, believe me. Malfoy just waved me off talking about payment for services rendered," Neville said with a huff of laughter.

"Well," Harry said with a smile, "you did pay him." Typical that Draco would be uncomfortable with sincere compliments or true gratitude. Harry turned on his water and adjusted the temperature.

"I did," Neville agreed from the next stall. "But I never would have been able to if not for you accepting my offer. So, thank you, too."

Harry snorted. "How could I not have? I mean, there we are, Ron and I, having a screaming fight in the middle of the common room in front of probably the whole House…"

"It was," Neville supplied helpfully.

"And you pop in, as if we'd been talking about the weather, with "I'd like to contract Healer Malfoy's services, Guardian. Do you have time now to negotiate?" Honestly, Nev, how could I do anything but say yes?" Harry said.

"You could have," Neville said.

"No, I couldn't have," Harry argued. "I would have…"

"Harry," Neville said in exasperation. "Just say "You're welcome, Neville." Merlin, you're as bad as Malfoy."

Harry laughed and dutifully repeated, "You're welcome, Neville." It was funny that he was just as uncomfortable as Draco with sincere compliments or true gratitude. The two finished their morning preparations in comfortable silence and walked together to the Great Hall for breakfast.

As Harry piled eggs and then bacon on his plate, he realized he was happy. Dumbledore's confession about the wards had opened the way for Harry to finally forgive the Headmaster completely for the rotten childhood he'd suffered at the hands of the Dursleys; a weight had lifted from his shoulders that day. Plus, the man had turned out to be an excellent teacher for advanced Ritual Magic. Snape no longer harassed him and was actually helping him immensely with his Fire Gift. He was once again on friendly terms with Ron and Hermione and the rest of the school seemed to have finally settled down from its outrage at his and Draco's involvement. The Prophet had found a new scandal and he hadn't received any howlers for a week. And in place of a bitter rival he now had an affectionate lover. Life was good. He couldn't remember another time he was this pleased and contented with his life.

Harry felt eyes on him as he reached for the orange marmalade. He stopped and looked up to see Draco watching him. Catching Draco's eye and giving him a happy and mischievous grin, he turned instead and picked up the raspberry jam.

Draco's joyous laughter echoed through the hall.

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