Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Principle of Sympathy	By : heerayni Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 5831 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not Own any part or character from The Harry Potter series, Or The Master of Magics Trilogy, They belong to J.k. Rowling and Lyndon Hardy, i make no money from this.

Chapter List
- 10
- 11
- 12
Author's Note:

CM:

Thanks for the encouraging comments. I think the tables are about to turn a bit on Harry from this chapter Onwards. I personally Love my Harry too, just as much as I Love Draco. But as i said before because Draco is more dramatic he gets more love. Harry is going to feel like crap for a while now... Its like written in the stars!

AlexKdp: Oh My dear and most favorite Stalker. My evil mistress instinct thrives on your submission and need for more..so here you have some more... It is absolutely sweet of you to go and re-read the entire story in anticipation, You can't imagine what that makes me feel like. In short i feel so flattered that i am actually blushing. Lol. You are wonderful! Please keep sending the love. I really need it. and in return i will send you back some drarry lovin..:D Little Heraa wants and demands and orders and needs....:D THANK YOU for your lovely loving thoughts!

Calypso: THank you so much for the review! The wait is over. It took me a while this time because i went blank for two days in between. Travelling does that to me..So sorry you had to hold your breath bated for such a long time. Enjoy! And keep supporting and reviewing!

Delia Cerrano: Thanks as always for reviewing! Tables are turning Delia, you will see when you read this.. as for the Stoltorm guy...well..i guess he is a bit weird yea.. and just has that mystery and darkness surrounding him..we'll see what happens with him.. i just hope he is not out to steal one of the boys from the other...*wink wink*

Chapter 11. Touching a Malfoy

In this house

There are a thousand

Dead and still souls

Making you stay

As this will be yours

A handful of earth

Cries aloud

I used to be hair or

I used to be bones

And just the moment

When you are all confused

Leaps forth a voice

Hold me close

I'm love and

I'm always yours (Rumi)

I always wondered how it was possible for people to go from one extreme edge of the emotional spectrum to the other in a matter of seconds without a very extreme external stimuli. I always thought it was something only characteristic to extremely emotional and dramatic people. It was not something that I have ever had a chance to experience.

Oh, I had my fair and really difficult share of teenage hormones but my life had been on such a critical edge in those days constantly that I was in a perpetual state of angst. Which came to a head when I fought in the final battle. Afterwards everything became muted for a long time.

And now, I stand here after a week of emotional hi-jumps, sleep deprived, strung out, vulnerable frustrated, angry and threatening yet again the bane of my existence Draco Malfoy, in a position that a simple curse would do a lot of damage, and I am angry, I am so angry at the mystery and the intrigue that would have riveted me if it was happening to someone else and not responsible for killing someone who once saved my life and I know that this man who I am threatening knows much more than he has let on, and I am angry that he has not been honest with me when I had trusted him enough to not arrest him or accuse him when all evidence pointed towards him. YET, the moment he looks into my eyes, trapped against the wall of the lift and myself, breathing shallow, eyes shining, hair gleaming, I just want him to…

Absorb me.

Hold me.

A part of my mind is protesting. But I am losing hold. I want comfort and something deep inside me is telling me he is the only one who can give it to me. I am suffocating. The need for something that I can't decipher is holding my chest captive. My vision starts to turn blurry around the edges and I know I am starting to lose balance. The heat, the rush, the madness. I try to hold purchase of something. I think I do just as I feel something cool against my cheek. Cool and firm. Like a lifeline, a pulse of existence, of being wanted, and craved and desired…

"Potter…" the wonderful deep voice whispers so close to my face that I can taste the mint of the breath on my lips.

"Potter…Look at me…" says the voice again as the coolness swipes at something warm and liquid just under my eye. I believe it's a tear. The realization bursts the bubble in my chest that was pressing against and all of a sudden everything is breaking down and building up around me once again. I hold tight to whatever I am holding and it holds me back

Trying to take as much air in my lungs as I can but when I exhale I can't help the sound that escapes me every time.

"Harry! Look at me…" the insistent hand on my cheek shakes me a bit and I open my leaking and blurry eyes to look into haunted grey ones. I want to climb inside them. I am so tired right now of the fast and sharp colors of life that is all around me. My hand moves up to the face that is facing me so close that we are sharing breath. I am praying that it's not warm to my touch like Firenze's body was. I am pleading with any supreme power above that it's as cool as the pale complexion suggests. My fingers map the skin of the cheek and it's cool. It's cool against my clammy hot fingers. Cool and firm and so different in texture from anything I have ever touched and it's alive. I am alive, that face is alive. I move my fingers alongside the cheek upwards towards the golden angled brows and then the softly blinking golden brown eye lashes fringing the smooth and soft eye lids that hide those maddening silver eyes. I move to the tall and proud nose without which nothing would make sense, it inhales deeply under my touch and I feel the warm exhale on my fingers as I touch the defined bow of the most capturing pair of lips. I have never paid so much attention to anyone's lips before. I have never even thought about it. These are trembling softly underneath my fingers strangely, soft and moist, a very strange shade of peach-pink. That is truly balanced perfectly with the silver blond of the hair and the grey of the eyes. These are the colors of life as they feel under my fingers. It is like touching colors, bottling sunshine, things that are impossible to do, just like me feeling like I belong. It's a dream that I have never dared to dream. It's beautiful and melancholy and has more substance than anything I have ever done in my life.

I don't know when and how I close my eyes and hide. All I can feel is warmth of an embrace in the coolness of it. Like my soul is reaching out of my body. I can smell mint and pepper and guava and something citrusy. I burrow deeper instinctively to touch something that smells so wonderful. Until my nose touches the source of such beautiful scent. It's the most supple soft skin covering deliciously rigid and straining muscles and bones. The embrace around me shudders and tightens at the same time. There is magic in that skin, it is squirming under my nose in a fast rhythm. I instinctively try to sooth it with my lips. Just pressing against it softly, asking it to calm down, It grows more agitated and now I can feel it pushing under the layer of clothes against my left hand as well. I find myself feeling protective about its agitation. I want to coo at it, calm it down, kiss it, taste it, this beating magic is the source of life, this beating, thumping agitated life source. Its mine!

I open my lips swiping my tongue-tip against it boldly. Scolding it to calm down. It tastes like electricity, salty-sweet and impacting. I taste it again, now with the flat of my tongue as cool and caressing fingers burrow their way into the hair at the back of my head. The surprising touch and the gasp that comes with it suddenly jolts me out.

I am Harry Potter.

I am in a Ministry elevator.

And I am in the arms of….

Draco Malfoy.

I don't know how and when I move but before I know I am on the opposite side of the elevator trying to breathe through…

Why am I hyper-ventilating in the first place?

I just had a breakdown didn't I?

In front of Malfoy, of all the people in the world.

No, not in front of Malfoy… In arms of Malfoy.

I refuse to go down the path of analyzing what just happened between me and him.

I refuse to think about it.

I refuse to turn around and look at him. I don't want to find out what the expression on his face is right now.

The indicator chimes, startling me out and suddenly the lift starts moving again.

When did it stop?

All right, so I had a break down.

Anyone can have a break down.

And if Malfoy wants to do something with it, well, I will just have to be the man I am and take it. Because only a really weak man would insult another man on a break down.

There is nothing to be embarrassed about. It's a natural reaction. Regrouping my pride and common sense I turn around to face whatever I have just earned.

Malfoy is standing right where he was just a few seconds ago. Still leaning against the wall of the elevator, but it's the expression on his face that startles me. Again.

It's blank. There is no mocking smirk, smug smile or apparent revulsion on it. It is just blank and vacant. His eyes are far away, looking somewhere inches above my shoulder. Only indication that he is not a stone statue but a breathing living human is the steady rising and falling of his chest. It does not take him long to meet my eyes with the similar expression. It's unsettling and only now I can see something in his eyes but for the life of me I can't figure out what it is.

And then he smiles that eerie smile again.

I hate that smile. It is so empty and dead. I want to wipe it off his face by doing something shocking. Though I don't think it's the emptiness or the point blank despair in those eyes, I think it's the acceptance of despair and helplessness that the smile represents. The Malfoy I knew would complain, whine, run, duck, resist against it. He was a fighter, though a coward as well, but he was still… himself. I want to say something, do something, but I don't get a chance as at that moment the indicator chimes again opening the doors that lead to the atrium.

He does not look at me again, it is as if I don't exist. And whatever just happened between me and him did not happen at all. He simply steps out without missing a heartbeat and just walks on, his silver grey robes rippling gracefully around him; towards the floo portals on the other side of the atrium. After a second or two I step out too. Before a wizard bumps into me trying to get into the open elevator swiftly..

"Watch it you nut-…" the middle-aged wizard stutters uselessly when he recognizes me.

"Aur-Auror P-Potter, I apologize.." I tune him out and try to look again for Malfoy in the crowd of witches and wizards milling about, but he has conveniently disappeared.

For some reason I want to go after him. I know he must have flooed to the manor. I can easily apparate at the gates and walk right in, before Malfoy thinks of changing the wards finally. After what just happened, I would not blame him either. I literally…

I decide to still avoid thinking about what I just did and what its implications are. Defeated and with headache unfolding slowly just behind my temples, I step towards the floo portals as well, more exhausted than ever.

It is going to be a very long evening.

But as long as I am hidden in my misery, I can pretend outside that all is well, and I have not done the most outrageous thing I could have done in my life just a few minutes ago.

My wand is still in my hand as I step out of my floo. Kreacher is there with a pop and I gesture him to keep silent as I unbutton my robes, I notice my hands are still trembling. I stop, take a deep breath. Staring at my hands willing them to stop trembling. It is then when I notice the little red smudge in the middle of my palm. It looks like blood. I swiftly rewind my day. No after the shower I had not come into any contact that would explain this smudge here and it does not look old enough to have come from earlier and it has no reason to be where it is. Fingers would explain, but not in the middle of the palm and in such a perfect round shape. I suddenly realize that its right in the place where I like to twirl the tip of my wand. A habit I have picked up through years as an auror. I look at my wand carefully and I can see a red stain just at the tip and along the side. I run my index finger alongside; it is still moist enough to smudge on my finger. I sudden movement in my peripheral brings my attention away from the mystery of blood on my wand. I see Kreacher shuffling, waiting for my half open robes. I am struck with an idea.

"Kreacher…come here…" I beckon him to me.

"Yes Master…" he steps closer.

I show my finger with the blood on it. Kreacher looks at it with a strange expression on his old and soggy face.

"Kreacher, being the elf of the house of black... Can you tell me who this blood belongs to?"

I do have an idea who the blood belongs to. Why it is on my wand? And why this particular person was bleeding in the first place, is another mystery all together, but the theory of the old pure-blood house-elves being able to tell the status of blood by smelling it is an intriguing one.

Kreacher leans closer to my finger, eyeing it carefully before he takes a sniff. Still inches away from it.

It takes him a second or two, his eyes clenched close in concentration, before they snap open wide and wild.

"Oh it has been so long since Kreacher has come across the blood belonging to the noble house of black and one so pure…So powerful!" Kreacher in all his soggy countenance almost swoons.

"Master said he wanted to fix the tapestry wall…Master should come and fix it now…" Kreacher wheezes with excitement.

"What do you mean Kreacher?" I, half of the time don't know what this elf talks about.

"Come Master! Come with Kreacher! Kreacher will show you…" and then he is taking hold of my wrist and dragging me towards the staircase. I am too shocked to actually stop the elf. Kreacher avoids physical contact with me religiously even if he has served me flawlessly for past Six years after I was finally able to take down the Portrait of Walburga Black and then subsequent adoption of Winky who was just on the brink of death after Dobby's death. We had come to a silent agreement and Kreacher surrendered to the fate of having a Half-blood for a master. The attitude changed dramatically after my proclamation of the Black title. Kreacher became civil and obedient.

Now to be dragged by the bouncy and enthusiastic house-elf was a shock, though I quickly recovered when I finally found myself facing the closed door of the Tapestry room. When I had started working on the renovation of the house, this room was my first target, but after countless failed attempts at fixing it, I had given up, I had ordered Winky and Kreacher both to keep it clean and tidy, but the tapestry remained the same. Rotting in places, names of the people who mattered and were not maniacally bigoted still charred off. It was a source of constant disappointment to me. So I ranted it about it every now and then to the resident house-elves.

I twisted the ornate door handle melded with the house emblem. It opened smoothly, no creaks or scrunched, the Ebony fully polished and the carvings all dusted to perfection. The tapestry is cleaner than before, the doxies have been purged and the frayed edges I had repaired myself a few years back, yet the burned off patches stand stark against the clean and restored back ground. My eyes naturally home in to the very edge of the tapestry on the wall facing the door. The name of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy is now written in Silver captions on the black swirling scrolls for background where before I remembered it clearly encased vice versa. Draco Malfoy on the other hand is encased in Silver banner with black caption. The picture is still of a eleven year old Draco. All pointy and sneering with that ridiculous head gear. It is sort of morbid.

"Touch it master, touch the picture with the blood." Kreacher says breathless and awed beside me.

I simply touch the tip of Malfoy's scrunching nose with the finger stained with his blood.

It is as if time comes to a stop. The embroidered wines that were just now waving and swirling to a rhythm of their own freeze abruptly.

"Harry?" someone says from the door way and then gasps. I turn around swiftly on high alert to look Hermione standing in the door way her eyes fixed on something behind me.

She steps into the room in a daze, her eyes shining bright with wonder. It takes me a while to see Luna and Ginny right behind her.

Ah, yes, I should not have expected anything else after the stunt I just pulled at the Minister's office. And they would be right to worry about me after what just happened in the elevator with…

NO, not thinking about that.

Ginny's frown and Luna's serene expression paired up with Hermione's awe and wonder makes me turn around and look for myself.

The first thing I notice is the background color, its changing from faded charcoal black to a deepest shade of emerald green. The shade is rather brilliant. My eyes flick towards the place where I am still touching the tapestry with my finger. I remove it gingerly, but the transformation happening in front of me does not stop. I feel the girls moving in behind me. To look closely I am sure.

The painted picture of Malfoy is no longer that of an 11 year old. It is much closer to the image of what he looks like now. Demure pose in a high collar and silk scarf, his long hair striking hair hanging in waves around his shoulders brilliant silver eyes sparkling, were it not for the haughty pose he would have passed for breath-taking. The faded embroidered golden wine wavers and then turns a brighter golden spreading slowly like a tremor through the whole tapestry becoming a brighter and most solid gold against the deep green back drop. And then the blooming of pictures on the scorched patches starts as the blackness of the burnt fabric is healing by itself, weaving back and picture after picture starts to emerge on it. All, previous portraits evolving into what seems more accurate and modern stances. The ridiculous head gears start disappearing as real hair styles start to emerge.

Nymphadora Tonks appears with a flourish with the picture of her weaving itself in clear vibrant lines. A playful expression on her delicate and exotic features, the 'originally' black hair weaved into a beautiful braid with those little flowers that girls put in their hair and her lace and silk off shoulder gown is a pearly pink color. I bet that in her life Tonks herself had never looked this way. Her name appears in a black banner with a small branch out to the name of Remus Lupin in a black banner as well, though his picture does not appears and the wine descends to a blank place underneath both names, a blank banner appearing at the end. I guess it is for Teddy, once he turns eleven, he would appear on it. My eyes then move up to the place where Sirius was and had been burnt off by his mad mother. A picture of a young and dapper Sirius with his long black hair is weaving itself effortlessly, with the roguish expression and my eyes inadvertently fall to the picture just underneath to that of Regulus who looks almost identical to Sirius, only a bit shy and demure. A silver vine emerges from the side of Sirius' portrait and weaves itself meticulously until it reaches a blank space just above Malfoy's picture and an all new picture and a name banner weaves itself together. The banner simply reads Harry James Potter-Black accompanied with a portrait of me with a very formal, serious and stern expression.

"Oh Harry, look! It's your auror face." Luna chimes from my side.

"What did you do Harry? I thought we had tried everything on it…" Hermione sounds wary and intrigued and disappointed at the same time.

"I just…touched it…" I say blankly realizing that I really don't want to explain what really fixed it.

"Really? You just touched it…?" Its Ginny that asks in that skeptical tone.

"Err… Yea… Anyways, what are you three doing here?" I ask side-stepping the whole thing without any finesse whatsoever. I cringe internally.

"Well… Ron told me what happened at the office just now, so I thought it would be better if I came by. It seems like Luna had the same idea I guess and so did Ginny…"

"Oh no, I just came to get the book that Mum lent Harry, the transfiguring patterns on enchanted curtains and upholstery one remember?" Ginny answers right away "I already had lunch, though I won't mind a spot of tea…I guess." She says quickly and I can tell that Hermione has given her some kind of signal.

"I just wanted to see Harry before I gave the report to the department, I brought lunch just in case, and just enough too Hermione." Luna smiles at Hermione and Ginny.

Like I said, it was going to be a long evening.

It's six in the evening and I find myself staring at the wrought-iron gate of the Malfoy manor. Again.

I have been acting too impulsive lately. But, when Hermione and Luna left after the long lunch which then morphed into the afternoon tea, I found myself in the tapestry room again staring at the now intricate repaired portraits. Sirius, Andromeda, Dora and myself. I noticed for the first time how Tonks actually resembled Narcissa more than her own mother. I had never in my days in this house thought that I would love to be in this room. I casted the specialized 'revelio' spell that Dean taught me, to show the spell work and structural magic that has gone into a magical tapestry or art. The structure was fully repaired now. Glowing blue and healthy. Almost seamless. It reminded me of the Malfoy manor wards woven so perfectly and intricately the night before the wake, when Hermione had declared that the Blood wards were intact and both Ron and Hermione had also said that they could not see the Transparent ward, just like all other Aurors and curse-breakers were unable to see the one around Dumbledore's tomb the night before. The nature of the wards was the same, but the structure and signature was different. Where the one surrounding the manor was fluid and constantly moving in a random pattern, the one surrounding the Tomb was faceted and solid, its movements angular and abrupt.

So a drop of Malfoy's blood was responsible for this extraordinary feat. It was sort of intimidating the amount of blood magic that the old pure-blood families used for…

But why was Malfoy bleeding in the first place?

A little niggling feeling of guilt started growing in the pit of my stomach.

I was so out of control inside that Elevator.

Did I really need to be so harsh and then so…

What had happened really? Why did i…?

It was too much for me to process and I knew I had to face the consequences of my actions.

I had injured Malfoy while THREATENING him again and then I had had a breakdown, I had sobbed and clung to him like an inconsolable child. He could have pushed me off, but he hadn't, he had been kind and considerate to the person who had threatened him just a few moments ago, distrusted him time and time again and then there was the strange connection again between us, but this time it was as if I was being revealed. I was being exposed. Why? How? I needed answers.

Why am I the only one who sees these wards? What keeps happening between me and Malfoy when we come into any kind of physical contact? Why do we keep on coming into physical contact? Why do I lose myself in such a way when it comes to him? I did not even want to think about his connection to the Firenze's murder.

It was all too frustrating so I decided that while it was driving me insane I should go and apologize to Malfoy for…Whatever. I will make it all his game. I will give him full rein on deciding what to do with whatever happened in the elevator between us.

And he will be answering questions tonight, I will not leave him until I am satisfied.

Set on my goal I had showered and taken a dose of pepper-up to help me along and apparated straight to the gates of the Malfoy Manor. And here I stand now. Like an idiot, trying to make a decision that is already made for me.

I push open the wrought-iron gate easily and step inside the swirling wards effortlessly just as I have always. Another mystery to solve I mention to myself. I have hardly walked twenty steps towards the looming manor glowing orange in the sunset when I notice for the first time the extreme stillness and the quiet surrounding the manor. I halt. No sounds of birds or trees or crickets or anything. In my understand this time of the evening is just as full of nature's racket as early morning and The Manor grounds are the rule in that instance. I know this because Narcissa was very fond of sitting outside in the garden at this time specifically as I discovered during my tea trips. She would sit in midst of the racket of birds settling in after a day of roaming and everything accompanied and she would have a strange serene expression on her face. Sometimes she would look at me and her eyes would sparkle and a little smile would touch her lips, as if she knew something about me that I did not. I am starting to think she might have been right.

I start walking towards the manor again, my steps now stern and my instincts on high alert. I find the main door opening to a slight push of my hand, as always granting me access even when I can feel the extra wards surrounding it.

Something is out of place, is what my mind tells me straight away as walk into the entrance hall. The Chandelier is already laden with burning candles along with the silver wall sconces. lighting all corners of the circular hall.

I have hardly had a slight look across the expanse of the hall when that always eerily self-composed house-elf Monk pops in.

"Lord Black!" The elf squeaks looking a bit panicked for some reason. It is very uncharacteristic of this particular elf.

"I need to see Lord Malfoy…" I state solemnly, refusing to take off my cloak with a slight shake of my head. I need to feel as put-together for this encounter as I can be. So far things are not looking up and I am still trying to figure out what is wrong.

"I am afraid it is not possible Lord Black… M-m-master is unavailable…" he says with an even more uncharacteristic stutter.

My instinct is now beeping urgently.

"Unavailable?" I ask as sardonically and authoritatively as I can.

"Y-y-yes, Master said he is visiting a special friend… and so he won't be back for supper or late dinner or breakfast… but Monk shall take a message if you wish to leave one for Master."

A special friend… won't be back for supper or breakfast, means that he would be spending the night at the said friend's, that could only mean…

What kind of friend do you call special? I wonder.

The romantic kind of course. My own thoughts answered.

Of course.

For some reason I do not like the realization at all.

And then I hate the fact that I do not like the realization.

What does it matter to me?

I do not answer the waiting elf and turn around to make my way out when my eyes find the floo place and the blank wall next to it. I slowly turn on my heel. The house-elf is still staring at me with wide brown eyes.

"Where are all the mirrors?" I ask the elf, who simply blinks at me as if I have asked him a question in a foreign language.

"M-m-master ordered them off-f" the elf stutters again. I do nothing to ease him and watch him closely with all the hostile Auror scrutiny I can muster.

"Why?" I ask the elf sharply.

"Master said it would be better to fill place with good art pieces that fulfill the intellect than mirrors that only feed a vain man's vanity." the elf recites almost.

I don't know why I feel so strange about the mirror. If Malfoy wants to redecorate, by all means he should, it is his home after all.

"My Lord?" the elf addresses me apologetically. "Do you wish to leave a message for master?"

"No." I simply say before I finally make my way out of the Manor.

It is still too quiet outside but I am in no mood to investigate any further. Exhausted and disappointed I disapparate.

I lay in my bed thoroughly exhausted yet sleep evades me. My nerves are still too sharp and alert. Too many questions constantly revolving in my head, wanting desperately to be answered. I wish I can answer them. But I can't. Not all of them at least.

Those which I can, I should I decide.

The first and foremost is what happened in the elevator.

One moment I was so angry and frustrated, which was understandable after the night I had had. But why is it that its always Malfoy at the other end of my wand when my own mind is not under my control. I recall the scene in the Minister's office. I remembered how almost reverently that Swedish oaf had said that single word;

"Silbern" he had said. Wasn't Silbern the name Malfoy told me he went by while he had lost his memories and magic after accidentally apparating himself to Germany?

So this Stoltorm git knew Malfoy from that time. But why had I reacted the way I had to it.

It was the sharpness of Malfoy's eyes when I had finally been able to make out his face against the sunlight behind his back. Malfoy was uncomfortable. And I had made the reflexive decision to intervene.

It was not a conscious choice at all, just an impulse.

I was so sick and tired after the meeting we had just had with Robards.

Apparently the Stoltorm guy was called in because an almost similar crime had taken place in 3 other places in past five months. According to him the first was the tomb of the renowned Scandinavian Mage Forseti's tomb at the Danish Island of Samsoe was desecrated the same way with a fully matured, shallow water, female mermaid slaughtered ruthlessly on top of the Altar.

The next attack happened a month later at the grave of the famous Frisian Witch, Maike Geduld, pioneer of the Geduld Magical sciences academy on the outskirts of the town of Drachten in Netherlands, a Pure-blooded Draken slaughtered at the Altar.

Last crime happened at the Tomb of Dominic Leggero a legendary Italian Master-duelist where a mature woodland-fae was slaughtered at the altar. The slaughter of the magical creatures who already had very tense relationships with their magical governing bodies had called in the best of the common-wealth Law enforcement to investigate the cases. Though it was the first time that the instigator of these crimes had addressed someone in their attacks. And that someone just happens to be me.

Isn't life just perfect?

Things had taken a turn for the worse when Robards started talking 24-hour security detail and safe houses.

I had reminded him of my residence being under the Fidelius charm erected by Dumbledore himself. though I had wondered for a few moments if I should ask Malfoy to ward my residence the way he had warded his. Only, the culprits themselves had used the same magic and even though Malfoy claimed that there was no way of dismantling it or breaking through, who's to say that the culprits did not know how to do so?

See how I kept going round and round, becoming dizzy with my own thoughts. All the while having that git scrutinizing my every blink, breath and twitch.

It had all come to flow out in that elevator.

The threatening, I could justify.

The breakdown I could justify.

The embracing and kissing and caressing and tasting… I could not.

And that was what I had done.

Malfoy had held me. Firmly but carefully. Like you would do for any person who was having a break down.

It was I who had stepped over the line.

What had possessed me to do so? First the irritation with Malfoy at the manor when I asked him about his appointment at the department of Mysteries, then the irritation and rescue and the Minister's office, then the threatening and breakdown in the elevator and now the worry over Malfoy bleeding and rushing to the manor and being disappointed about him being out on a dinner and breakfast date.

What is wrong with you Harry Potter?

Are you jealous?

Yes you are definitely Jealous.

The question is, are you jealous 'of' Malfoy or 'for' Malfoy?

I wonder for a few seconds, knowing the answer all along.

I know this is the worst thing that can happen at the time.

But it is futile to deny that there is something between Malfoy and I.

I don't know if it's a connection or attraction, but I know it is there. And though I should be wary of it, I am not. I want to cherish it for some strange reason. It has been so long since I have felt a connection with someone.

The feeling of belonging that I felt for a moment in the elevator comes to my mind.

I realize I want more of it. As if I am on a precipice of a gigantic discovery.

Its not my sexual orientation or anything of that sort.

No, I feel like I am about to unveil my destiny. And I would be least surprised if it comes to me wrapped in pain, blood, and heat. Anything would be better than the numbness that I have been suffering from, for last seven years.

I wonder how Malfoy… No, I wonder how Draco translates it all? I wonder what he felt in that elevator.

I recall his face.

He was smiling emptily; there was no disgust on his face. No mocking or sneering. Just hollowness and that strange despair before he decided to ignore me totally and walkaway.

I would have probably done worse if I were in his position.

I feel as if a pit is opening in my chest.

I decide that I will not speak of it if he himself does not bring it up. I will not embarrass him more than I already have.

I mean what am I thinking really? Whatever is there between me and him should remain to the extent that it is at. I should not encourage it to grow. I am not even Gay, more Bisexual I think if not Asexual. And I am sure he is straight. And even if he wasn't, we both are like oil and water. We don't mix. We can hardly stand each other.

And he obviously has a 'SPECIAL FRIEND'

I think it's time I get out to find myself a special friend too, sincerely this time.

I mean if Malfoy can find one in only a week since his return, it can't be that difficult can it?

I get up from the bed and make my way down to the floo.

"Luna?" I call into the floo.

She comes into the view a few seconds later with a towel around her head. Smiling serenely.

"Hello Harry…"

"Luna, I was wondering, who are you going with to the Prophet's thing coming weekend?" I ask acting all disinterested.

"Oh, Rolf is going to be in town, so I will be there with him." She answers smiling, her grey eyes sparkling.

"Ah, I see… Oh, wait a moment, How about that Daphne I saw in your office a few weeks back? The one with blond hair and the legs?"

"Daphne Greengrass? Oh, I think she might be a good choice. She is very nargle-free… in fact she just floo called me before I went for the shower to inform me that she just landed us an appointment with Draco for an all exclusive interview…"

"Yea? Good... so can you…" I stop short as I realize what Luna had just said. "Did you say she landed you an all exclusive interview with Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes, they know each other from Hogwarts, same year same house yes? I think he took her out…."

I can't hear anymore.

"Uh Luna… You know what, forget about Daphne and all, it's alright, I will… manage…"

She looks at me in that X-ray scanning way she does some times.

"Are you sure Harry? Because…" I don't let her continue.

"Yes, yes! I am sure, I was just wondering and now that I think about it, I think I do have someone in mind actually. I don't think Daphne would be a good choice since she works for you and all and if something happens then it would complicate things. So….yea… sorry for disturbing you. I will see tomorrow at work?"

"Yes, meeting at 9, I will bring breakfast." She chimes sweetly and I just nod and lean back closing the floo connection.

Few minutes later I find myself climbing back to the safety of my bed eyeing the dreamless sleep potion on the dresser.

So what I wanted to know least of all the things I wanted to know, I have just found out.

Draco's special friend is Daphne Greengrass. The one he is probably 'canoodling' with right now.

And how can she not be.

Daphne Greengrass is one of the most beautiful girls I have ever laid eyes on.

Tall, curvaceous, delicately demure, with beautiful wavy blonde hair and striking blue eyes and a pair of breasts that just calls to some primal male instinct, Daphne Greengrass is a boy's dream come true. And that is all without mentioning her exceptional wit and intelligence, which incidentally makes her any Man's dream come true.

I had been seriously debating dating her before Malfoy came to town.

And now…

Well, she and Malfoy would just make the most perfect couple that ever existed in the universe. And together they would make the perfect pure-blooded blond children. All perfect Slytherins.

I chuckle at the irony.

I think the whole universe is aligned tonight to make me suffer.

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The Principle of Sympathy