Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You are my sunshine	By : LerDan Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2755 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I make no money from this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 1:

“Don’t you understand Hermione? It was a ceremony. He is one of them,” said Harry to Hermione and Ron as they headed towards Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Hogwarts Express. They were just passing the beautiful mountains of Scotland; it was a very beautiful sunny afternoon. The trio were sitting in a compartment all by themselves, discussing non-other than Draco Malfoy himself.

“He is one of what?” asked Ron, confused.

“Harry’s thinking that Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater,” said Hermione, a small disbelieving chuckle leaving her lips.

“You are mad,” commented Ron lightly and bit into his chocolate frog.

“He is a Death Eater. I know what I saw. I’m positive that he is one of them. I can even feel it,” said Harry and looked at them pleadingly, “And his father is a Death Eater. He has to be one of them, right?”

“Harry, your hatred towards Malfoy is almost blinding. Don’t let the hatred get into your rational mind,” said Hermione leaning closer to Harry and taking his hand in hers, forcing him to look at her face, as he turned his face towards the window, making a ‘tsk’ing noise. Harry was about to answer Hermione, the door to their compartment slid open and in walked; Neville, Luna and to Harry’s displeasure Ginny.

“Hey guys,” said Neville and sat beside Ron, looking a bit shaken, “We couldn’t find a free compartment. Everywhere is full, and wherever we turn everyone’s looking at us like we are some kind of a hero or something.”

“Well, it’s understandable, isn’t it?” said Luna peering into her bag, looking for…God only knows what. When everyone gave her a blank look, she shrugged and lightly said, “We were with Harry last year, didn’t we?” she sat closer to the door, and there was left one seat between Harry and Luna. Ginny took the opportunity to take that seat.

Harry looked out of the window and grimaced as he felt her seat closer to comfort right beside him. The talk started to continue to the part of the same boring questions how their summers were, what they did, and etc. It was a good thing that they weren’t asking how his summer was, because he didn’t want them to look at him in pity. He didn’t like to be pitied. And then once again, they all started talking about what happened in June, and Harry felt his throat thickening with overwhelmed emotions. His beloved Godfather was murdered, and he had seen it happening. It wasn’t a pleasant thing to think about right now, so he closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering, steadying breath.

“Yeah, it was really awful,” he heard Neville say, “I mean, that man, Black I mean, he’s been really good at us. He helped us. And I don’t understand why Professor Lupin looked so sad, and…hey, Harry, are you alright?” he asked as he saw Harry’s face considerably paled.

No, he was not alright. He felt someone take his hand in theirs. He frowned and looked at his hand which was in his lap, he looked at the hand in his like it somehow offended him, and he turned his head to the owner of the hand and bit back a disgusted expression at bay. It was Ginny, Ginny taking his hand in hers, giving him comfort. He didn’t need her comfort. He didn’t like the feeling of her hand on his. Ginny was more like a sister for him, than someone else to whom he could go out with. He shook his hand out of her grasp and sprung to his feet.

“I need some air,” he declared and took his Invisibility Cloak out of his truck. Everyone looked at him puzzled, as he without waiting an answer from them walked out of the compartment, and slamming the door after him.

He heard Neville ask Hermione if Harry was ok, and she said that he was. But he wasn’t. He bloody wasn’t OK. He needed some air, right fucking now. So without thinking further he started to walk towards the end of the Hogwarts Express. Every single head turned as he passed by their compartments, followed by whispers and giggles. He wanted nothing more than to hide, and with a jolt he now realized that he’d taken his Cloak with him. Brilliant.

Now, safely under the Cloak he walked his way down the aisle, looking into the compartments here and there, not paying really much of an attention who was in them. But when he walked into the side of the Slytherin’s boot, he stopped short as he saw a shockingly white blond hair sitting alone in one of the compartments. The first thing that Harry saw on Draco Malfoy’s face was the blank expression followed swiftly by the sadness of his eyes. Harry frowned and peered more closely at Malfoy, realizing a minute later then he had pressed his face to the small window of the compartment and his nose was flat to his face, and it was a really uncomfortable thing to do, to tell you the truth. So he backed away slightly and looked at his face again.

Malfoy looked older somehow, not the Malfoy Harry knew. He had this darker looks to him; his face was the same pointy one, but it held sadness to it too, he was wearing black suit, which Harry idly thought suited Malfoy. Trust Malfoy to work a color on himself that would make anyone shudder with raw jealousy. It wasn’t the fact that he was looking darker, it was the fact the he was alone in his compartment.

But was this sadness?

Harry never saw another expression on Malfoy other than rage, a sneer, and a smirk. This expressionless expression, the sadness, was unnerving. It really was. What was really wrong with him?

Harry jerked back slightly, realizing that he’d been standing in a deserted hallway, watching his rival brooding to himself. He shook his head lightly, he re-adjusted his Cloak once again and wanted to walk away to the point where he knew that held a small balcony, and he could’ve gotten his fresh air and walked back to his friends. But here he was, looking at Malfoy.

He had changed. Like Harry himself; why he had changed, was a mystery to Harry. True, some of it was due to Sirius’s death in the summer, 2 months ago, but there was something else too, but what it was he didn’t know. He just hoped he’d find out soon. Now, was not the time of thinking about himself, it was Malfoy’s time. And why was he thinking about Malfoy anyway? He cursed under his breath and re-adjusted his Cloak.

He was about to turn and go when Malfoy did something that froze Harry in mid-step. His breathing changed rapidly, more ragged then before, and he paled considerably. Heart beating wildly in his rib-cage he re-took his previous place by the window. Malfoy was tracing a finger inside of his wrist; on his left side. Exactly where the Dark Mark was. Harry held his breath in anticipation, waiting for Malfoy to do something; roll up his sleeves, or something. He wanted a proof that Malfoy really was a Death Eater. He had to be a Death Eater, or he wouldn’t be touching that place, would he?

Harry frowned. But what if he truly wasn’t branded yet? He backed away from the door again, re-adjusted his Cloak and left the broody Draco bloody Malfoy to his own thoughts and world.

Little did Harry know, as he walked away Draco Malfoy himself looked up at the door, where mere seconds before Harry had been standing under the Cloak.

00000

The Great Hall was buzzing with the students. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked towards their usual seat in the middle of the long table; Harry facing Ron and Hermione and to his discomfort the Slytherin table. He scanned the Slytherins, acting normal as if he was just looking around, but he was actually searching for the shocking-white blond hair. What surprised him that he had seen his group of friends, but he wasn’t with them. What surprised him even, when Malfoy walked through the door and sat a little away from his friends, keeping mostly to himself.

Now Harry could see him clearly, he was thinner, tired and looked almost exhausted. Harry frowned yet again, and wondered what really had happened to Malfoy. He was once again watching him as he sat there, his right hand propped under his chin, gazing at the turkey that was right in front of him, looking as delicious as Harry could remember it, but he wasn’t eating, nor conversing with his friends.

A laughter from his left side, distracted him momentarily and turned to watch as Seamus, Merlin knows how, exploded the goblet full of Pumpkin juice. Harry smiled despite of himself. Everyone started to tease and mock Seamus for his clumsiness and Seamus took it all in with a smile and comments of his own.

Harry sensed prickle of unease, like someone was watching him. He turned his head to his right and saw that Ginny was talking to her friends and was looking at him from the corner of her eye, but it wasn’t her; Harry was sure of it. He looked at the Slytherin table again and his breath left him completely.

Draco Malfoy was watching Harry with so many emotions in his eyes, on his blank face, that Harry shuddered lightly. Harry tried to look away, but the look on Malfoy’s eyes held him in his place. The steel-grey eyes were glistening with something akin to…dare he says, pleading. Malfoy was pleading with Harry about something that he couldn’t and wouldn’t know. And it didn’t matter if Malfoy was pleading with him or he wasn’t feeling well, or whatever, Harry Potter hated Draco Malfoy and that was it.

“Harry?” Hermione’s voice shook him out of his thoughts, “Harry, are you alright?”

“Yeah, why?” he asked; now his gaze landing on Hermione’s concerned one.

She changed a glance with Ron and said, “You were glaring, like, if I hadn’t talk to you, you’d’ve spit fire. Harry, what is it?”

“I…nothing, it’s nothing. Really. I just-” Harry got distracted once again, as Malfoy gave up on his meal and walked out of the Great Hall; shoulders hunched, face as sad and gaunt as Harry ever saw him. Harry cleared his throat once again and looked back at Ron and Hermione who were peering at Harry like he had gone mad. “I need some air.”

It seemed a really good excuse for him, because Ron gave him a small meek smile and Hermione nodded in understanding. He walked out of the Hall, out of the Entrance Hall and into the light night air, trying not to think about Ron and Hermione’s sympathetic faces. He heaved a great sigh of relief as the cool air hit his face. He loved this; the night, the moon, the stars. He swallowed hard as he saw the Dog Star shining merrily. Harry felt his throat tighten at the thought of his Sirius. It was so strange without him. Harry never felt this alone in his entire life.

He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, looking at the Dog Star, but he felt the prickle of the same unease as he felt in the Great Hall. He turned and looked around himself, there, in the dark shadowy corner. The person shifted a bit, and Harry felt the same anger bubbling inside of him as he noticed the blond hair. Malfoy was spying on him. Harry started to angrily storm his way towards him.

“What the fuck you are doing Malfoy?” Harry snapped at him as he neared the impassive blond. The said blond just looked at him, which seemed to flare Harry’s simmering anger, “Don’t you dare stand there looking bored, tell me what the fuck do you want from me?”

Malfoy still looking at him, moved away from the wall and started to slowly, walk towards Harry; peering at him from low-hooded eyes, like a snake. Harry, taking a step back, moved his hand towards his wand. Harry didn’t like the glimmer that shone in Malfoy’s eyes; it was really unnerving and unsettling. “M-Malfoy? What are you doing?” he pointed his wand at Malfoy, as he slowly moved closer to Harry. “Back off,” it really was eerie seeing Malfoy like this.

Then Malfoy lunged forward, seized Harry by his arms and slammed him to the wall. Harry’s vision blurred and his wand hand slacked a bit. He groaned as his back made contact to the cold wall, painfully. Then there was Malfoy’s hot breath, tickling his earlobe and the side of his neck, he shuddered. “If you’ll ever, ever as much as a blink an eyebe in my way, or spy on me-”

“I didn’t-” started Harry, and he felt a cold fear run down his spine as Malfoy slammed a fist on the wall, close to his head. Harry’s eyes widened as he watched Malfoy’s lip curl.

“-you’ll wish you’ve never been born, understand?” Malfoy finished as if he’d never got violet just seconds ago. Harry shaking with fear, now anger all gone, he nodded very slowly. “Good,” Malfoy growled in his ear once again. He lingered there for mere seconds, but it felt like hours for Harry, and with another hot breath on his neck, there was left only the cold night air, as Harry so wanted to breath. But he could only smell Malfoy’s strong, rich cologne now. He took another shuddering breath and slid down the wall, sitting on the cool stone floor he looked down at his knees which he unconsciously brought to his chest. He took another steadying breath and looked up at the night sky; filled with endless stars. Harry bit his lip in anxiousness as the tears wanted nothing more than to spill out of his eyes.

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“Potions. First thing in the morning and it’s with Slytherins. Brilliant,” said Hermione bitterly as she bit into her toast, “it’s a good thing that we have a new Professor, isn’t it? Good morning, Ronald,” she added in her small morning rant, as Ron yawned wildly and sat right beside her. He granted in his own way of greeting. “Anyway, it’s a good thing that Professor Snape got what he wanted, isn’t it? I mean, he can’t act all broody and snap at us at every awakening moment, can he? I mean, yes we will see him in DADA class, and yes he will still be the same Professor we all know, but-”

“Hermione, I really, really must ask you to…to just be quiet for one second,” said Harry, sleepily.

“Hear, hear,” added Ron through another yawn.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it when you…talk,” said Harry, hardly realizing what he was saying through a sleep foggy mind, “But I’d really would like it if you just stopped talking, right about now. Thanks.”

Hermione looked startled, but then in closer inspection of Harry’s features, she understood that he hadn’t slept a blink the night before. “Oh,” she breathed out and buried her nose into her Potions book, reading away in high speed.

Harry sighed in relief and tried to eat his eggs, but found it too tasteless. Instead he took a sip of his tea and looked around the Great Hall, noting that the students had energy in themselves to still laugh and talk about their holidays. Unconsciously he moved his gaze towards the Slytherin table, seeing Malfoy’s friends sitting together chatting their morning’s away and there was Malfoy again, sitting away from his friends; looking at Harry.

As their gazes met, Harry felt as if a cold bucket of water has been turned on his head. He shuddered in fear, again, as he remembered what happened last night just outside the Front Door. He swallowed hard and tried to not to stare at Malfoy, but he couldn’t. He bloody couldn’t. He, Malfoy, seemed to have something inside of him that left Harry so breathless and with fear after him.

What the fuck was really going on? They were enemies. And they’d been enemies from first year, what was so different about this year though?

“Harry?” Ron called out to him and he shook his head lightly, looking at Ron, “Potions, mate,” he said and Harry nodded, taking his bag from the floor and shouldering it, they made their way towards the Potions classroom in the dungeons.

“Hey, are you going to apply for the Quidditch tryouts this year?” Harry asked Ron, trying to clear his mind off Malfoy and concentrating on more important subj

“I think I will, I don’t know. I mean,” Ron frowned and looked down, “I was hell last year, wasn’t I?”

“No, you were brilliant. Though I’m sorry I haven’t been there to see your spectacular saves that everyone’s still talking about.”

Ron blushed a bit at the small compliment from his friend, and shrugged, “I already told you that it was good. And Hagrid needed your help. Besides, you’ll be captain this year for our team, and I’m sure there will be some competition for the place of a Keeper, won’t it?”

Harry nodded and said, “Yes, and I hope I’ll get the best. Which in my eyes; you are good at Keeping.”

They walked down the stairs to the classroom, still talking about Quidditch, Hermione was reading her Potions book, brow furrowed. They stopped right in front of the classroom door and Hermione closed her book with a snap.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, “it’s just; I don’t know who’ll be the new Professor now. I mean, will he be good like Professor Snape, or no?”

“Who cares, Hermione?” said Ron, “As long as it’s not Snape, I don’t really care who the new Professor will be.”

Hermione’s frown deepened but she didn’t say anything; instead she hugged her Potions book to her and waited for the door to open. Harry looked around; most of the Slytherins were there already, but the one Slytherin he was thinking wasn’t there. He mentally slapped him to even thinking about it. Stop thinking, he told himself firmly and leaned up the wall and looked down at his shoes. The door opened and the students walked into the classroom. They all scattered around, sitting at their favorite places and talking to themselves in excitement, waiting for their new professor come in.

“Settle down, settle down,” they all heard their new Professor’s voice coming from his office, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Well, thought Harry, it wasn’t cold and menacing as Snape’s voice was. And they waited patiently to see who he was. Moments later the door to the office opened and out walked a very large fat man, with a little to nothing neck and with a very bushy mustache which looked like Uncle Vernon’s.

“Morning, class,” he boomed, his voice loud and clear. “I’m Professor Slughorn, your new Potions teacher. Now, we’ll have a small QA with you all and start to brew the first Advanced Potion of the year.” And the class started.

Slughorn was really good, and knew what he was saying to the students. Everyone had a chance to answer some of the questions, much to Hermione’s dismay. She was used to answering everything the teacher asked, and even though Snape never really picked her when he needed an answer, it was still shocking to see this. Everybody hated Snape, well, only Slytherins didn’t.

Malfoy walked in minutes late. He gave Slughorn a look with raised eyebrow and Slughorn only waved his hand at him, indicating him to take his seat. Malfoy sat the back of the classroom.

They were going to brew the Potion that was so commonly known as The Draught of Living Death. Currently Slughorn was explaining about asphodel and wormwood, which they were going to use in the potion. And then Slughorn did the unthinkable.

“As you all already know that it’s a dangerous potion, in its own way, I’m going to pair all of you and you’ll be working with each other till the end of the term, is that clear?” said Slughorn and everyone waited for him to continue, “Now, Finnigan with Goyle, Thomas with Crabbe, Weasley with Zabini, Granger with Parkinson,” there was an inaudible grown from every student as they shuffled to get to their new lab-partner, “Longbottom with Nott, Potter with Malfoy,” and Harry’s heart sank.

Why, oh why did he have to be paired with the least person he didn’t want to be paired?

Harry huffed out a breath and gathering his books and notes he walked towards the back of the classroom. He dumped his everything on the table, sat on his chair with another huff and tried so hard to not feel the heat that was coming off the blond haired git that was sitting right beside him, so he did the only thing that seemed rational at this moment; he opened his book and turned to page ten. He blinked several times to adjust his vision.

This year, Harry wasn’t going to take Potions because he didn’t get enough marks for the advanced class, so when McGonagall told him that he was going to take it he was surprised and unprepared for it. McGonagall gave him the old battered Potions book and told him to use it till he could send an order to Flourish and Blotts for his Potions book. Harry reluctantly took the book, and since last night he didn’t open it. It was battered, dog-earned and very old. It seemed like it hadn’t been open till the last time it had been used.

Harry turned the book around and flipped open the last page. At the small side of the book was written

This is the property of the

Half-Blood Prince

Harry frowned, whoever the Half-Blood Prince was, he was an idiot to write something in the book. Harry sighed once again, and flipped it open to page ten once again. Writing out the ingredients from it he felt Malfoy stir right beside him, and cleared his throat. Harry looked at him and carefully masked his face. What did he want?

“Potter, the both of us know that I’m good at Potions,” Harry held back a snort, “So, I think it’d be wise if you’d go and get the ingredients, I’ll get the cauldron to heat up. Then you’ll chop them for me and I’ll add them into the cauldron. Now, get to work.” Malfoy’s voice was calm and measured and Harry found himself doing what Malfoy had told him to do.

He scrambled up to his feet and walked towards the store room, collecting the ingredients he walked back to his table with Malfoy, who was heating up their cauldron, and they started to work.

Half-way through the process, Harry was trying to cut his Sopophorous bean, but it kept slipping away from under the knife, he huffed out an angry breath. Not only the heat from the classroom and from his robes was getting on his nerve, and the fact that he couldn’t cut the bean he felt extremely stupid. And Malfoy was watching him with the same expression like before; his face blank, eyes filled with emotions.

“Damn it,” Harry cursed under his breath as the bean once again slipped away.

“What are you doing Potter? I need that bean now,” murmured Malfoy, peering down into the cauldron.

“I’d give it to you if I could cut it,” he snapped. With the back of his hand he brushed away his hair and wiped the sweat off from his forehead. He sighed and regained his calm composure, “In the book it clearly says that it has to be cut, but the previous owner-”

“Previous owner?” Malfoy cut him-off in mid-sentence, looking puzzled.

“Erm..” Harry looked at his face, so unfazed from the heat and the mess that everyone was feeling. And right next to him Harry looked like shit. He shook his head lightly and said, “Yeah, I wasn’t going to take Potions this year, I thought I didn’t pass, but apparently I did.” Harry stopped short and thought of this bizarre situation. Harry Potter was having a civil conversation with non-other than Draco Malfoy. He shook his head again, and continued, “Anyway, in this book it’s written that we’ll have to crush it, not cut it. It’ll release the juices more.”

Malfoy furrowed his brow and took the book from Harry. He read the instructions and indicated Harry to do as the book said. Harry did. And it indeed released more juice.

After that the both of them started to use Harry’s book for instructions and, at the end of the lesson, they waited with baited breath as Malfoy quickly stirred the cauldron. This was the final stage. The Potion was clear lilac; they had to stir it till it turned into clear water color.

According to the book they had to stir it counterclockwise. But the previous owner of the book wrote they ought to add a clockwise stir after every seventh counterclockwise stir. Harry held his breath as Malfoy did as was instructed. The effect was immediate. The potion turned into clear pink.

Harry swallowed hard as he saw the concentration on Malfoy’s face; how sure his hand moved over the cauldron, how he counted the stirs under his breath, lips moving with the number. Then those lips turned upward into a small triumph smirk. The damned potion turned into clear water, what they were heading for. Malfoy looked at Harry as Slughorn called the class to stop. Their eyes met. Harry swallowed hard again, his breathing leaving him once again. So many emotions, so much heat in one gaze; and Harry was the first one to break their ‘connection’.

“Don’t tell anyone about this book,” murmured Malfoy, his lips barely moving, as Slughorn made his way towards them.

First time in history, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had a class together. And no one was harmed.
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You are my sunshine