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Inter Vivos	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 42948 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 1
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Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Twelve�Pain

�� That is
not an option, Mr. Potter.� Harry wasn�t sure, but he thought Professor
McGonagall�s cheeks were a little pink. Of course, they had been arguing about
this for twenty minutes now, and he probably looked the same way. At least he wasn�t trying to pretend he wasn�t
angry. �All the Champions must attend the Yule Ball. Remaining within your
rooms would send the wrong message to the other students.�

�� Harry
stared at her. �What message? Because the one that says I don�t know how to
dance is the truth.�

�� McGonagall
flushed again and scowled at him. It occurred to Harry that she�d been less
certain of how to deal with him ever since he�d become friends with Draco. He
hid a grin. His Head of House really wouldn�t understand if he showed it right
now.

�� The Goblet
of Fire marked you out as a leader among your schoolmates,� she said now, as if
this were an unanswerable argument. �Along with Mr. Diggory and Miss Delacour
and Mr. Krum, of course. You must attend the Ball and perform the first dance.�

�� I already
was a leader,� Harry said. �It�s bloody uncomfortable��

�� Language,
Mr. Potter!�

�� Harry
ducked his head, mostly so that he could roll his eyes in peace and not have
her notice. �Sorry,� he muttered.

�� McGonagall
glared at his hair. Then he heard her sigh and say, �You only need to attend the one dance, Mr.
Potter. But you will attend the dance.�

�� Harry
tapped his fingers against his leg in agitation. He had hoped to be able to
fulfill Draco�s request to not take Cho to the Yule Ball by simply not going to
the Ball. Then Draco could take Cho as his date�which was obviously what he
wanted�at least if she didn�t have a date already, which seemed unlikely to
Harry. Harry didn�t really care about the Ball. He didn�t think he�d have a
good time no matter who he took. But McGonagall wasn�t cooperating.

�� On the
other hand, just giving in and asking Cho would betray Draco. Harry didn�t like the thought of Draco dancing with
Cho, but he was a friend, and Harry owed him anyway, for thinking up that
wonderful trick to beat the dragon.

�� So he
looked up and said, �All right, I�ll come to the Ball. But I won�t have a
partner.�

�� You must,
to dance��

�� She sounded
completely condescending, so much like Snape that Harry lost his temper. �I
didn�t think there was a law against dancing by yourself,� he snarled.

�� Mister Potter.�

�� No.� Harry
leaned forwards and glared at her. �Either you let me come alone, or I come
with a partner and make a big mess.�

�� McGonagall�s
eyes narrowed. �I do not enjoy being threatened, Mr. Potter.�

�� That�s not
a threat,� Harry said, �it�s a prophecy.�

�� There was
some more glaring. McGonagall seemed to think he would give in if she just
waited long enough. Harry stared stubbornly back. At last his Head of House
sighed and adopted that disappointed look that usually hurt Harry worse than
yelling. This time, though, he was too satisfied that he�d get to keep his
promise to Draco and get out of asking someone other than Cho, which would be
completely stupid.

�� Very well,
Mr. Potter. Since you are so determined to have your own way, you may attend
the Ball by yourself.�

�� Thank
you,� Harry said, coldly enough that she wouldn�t think he was really grateful,
and left to write to Draco.

*

�� Draco
pulled on his dress robes, scowled into the mirror, and adjusted the cuffs. He
was going to the Yule Ball, and he didn�t have a date. Pansy had wanted to go
with him, and Draco�s father had sent a letter suggesting diplomatically that
it might be good to keep up appearances with her, but Draco couldn�t bring
himself to do it. He would attend by himself or not at all.

�� But he was
resentful and slow about getting ready, even though he didn�t know why. After
all, Harry had granted his request, and he hadn�t even fussed at Draco about
it. He had just grinned a little when Draco asked him and said he didn�t think
he wanted to deprive his best friend of a chance.

�� He thinks I like her, Draco had realized
in outrage. But because he couldn�t describe the real state of his feelings�

�� Just like I can�t describe why I resent
going to the Ball like this.

�� he
couldn�t tell Harry the truth. Harry would want a more coherent explanation. He
deserved a more coherent explanation.
But Draco didn�t have it in him to give, and he didn�t want Harry to figure
that out.

�� You�re not
taking Pansy?� Blaise asked from behind him, in surprise. �She was bragging all
week how she was going to go with you.�

�� Yes, well,
Pansy�s overconfident sometimes,� said Draco, and turned around. Blaise was
wearing brilliant red dress robes that of course looked good on him. His mother
sent him fashion advice, Draco was certain, and she had somehow managed to
snare eight husbands, so she must know something.
�And I wanted to ask you,� he added, as his memory caught up with the
moment. �Why were you making those �Potter Stinks� badges? I didn�t know he�d
annoyed you badly enough.�

�� Blaise
blinked. �I didn�t make them. I just distributed them because I thought they
were funny.�

�� Well, who
made them, then?� Draco demanded.

�� Blaise
looked suspicious for a moment, but then seemed to decide that Draco wanted one
of his own. He grinned and leaned closer to murmur, �Finnigan! In his own Tower!
Isn�t that funny?�

�� That tosser? Draco had of course noticed
that Finnigan stayed out of Harry�s way and glared at him every chance he got,
but he hadn�t realized their feud was still ongoing. Harry hadn�t used
Parseltongue in two years, what more did Finnigan want?

�� Probably for him to leave Gryffindor Tower
and the school altogether.

�� Draco
shrugged and let Blaise see his lack of interest as they walked towards the
door. �All right,� he said. �I wanted to know how you were making them and
never letting me see you. I didn�t think you knew spells like that.�

�� Blaise
struggled, Draco saw, between the urge to accept the compliment and the fact
that he�d already told Draco the truth. At least that distracted him
sufficiently from the mention of Finnigan and Pansy to let Draco walk down to
the Great Hall in peace.

*

�� Harry kept
his head up as he danced through the first dance by himself. He knew he was
blushing, but he would be embarrassed no matter what happened, and so he might as well be embarrassed in a good
cause. And he really didn�t know what in the world he would have done if there
was a girl hanging off his arm the way Cho hung off Cedric�s.

�� That hurt,
a little, to see that she�d come with Cedric. But Harry couldn�t resent Cedric
for it. He was too nice. And he
caught Harry�s eye as they turned around each other in the waltz, or the kick,
or the tango, or whatever it was, and grinned in approval. Harry smiled back
and then counted the minutes until the end of the dance.

�� It was only
five minutes, thank God. Harry looked around for Draco, and found him standing
near the food table, his arms folded and his back stiff. Harry grinned
slightly. He would have hesitated to approach Draco when he looked like that
last year. Now, he knew him well enough to see the little cracks in the mask,
what the tightness that stretched his cheeks out and widened his eyes really
meant. Draco was lonely, and he hated being lonely, and he hated the thought
that someone might guess he was lonely, so he stood off by himself and looked
stern and full of splendid isolation instead. Having briefly seen Lucius
Malfoy, Harry thought he knew who Draco was trying to imitate.

�� He stepped
up to him and nodded at Draco as if they had made an appointment to meet here.
The way Draco�s face brightened when he saw him made Harry feel glad for the
first time all evening. Hermione had tried to argue him into taking Ginny as
his partner in the Ball, and Ron had said that Harry would look stupid dancing
by himself and he ought to take anyone who would have him. He seemed to think
Harry going alone had something to do with Draco, too, and Harry had been first
irritated and then astonished by the depth of Ron�s insight.

�� He and Ron
were best friends again, but that didn�t mean Harry was about to abandon Draco.

�� Hullo,�
Harry said, and picked up a small sandwich from the food table and bit into it.
It was ham, and tasted delicious. Why
couldn�t they just invite everyone to the Great Hall to eat good food for a
night, instead of making people dance? �Are you hungry?� he added, and picked
up another little sandwich for Draco.

*

�� Draco found
his breath unexpectedly quick when he took the sandwich from Harry�s hand. And
then Harry was grinning at him as if asking why he was breathing that way, and
Draco could laugh and eat the sandwich, and then join in the conversation.

�� Why did
you dance by yourself?� he asked. �Why not just hide in your room?� He was glad
that Harry hadn�t just hidden in his
room, but the last thing he�d expected was Harry waltzing by himself, not
looking at people as he did it, as if that meant the people wouldn�t exist.
Draco had seen Lucius do that, too, but Harry did it better than his father.

�� I tried,�
Harry said gloomily, �but McGonagall wouldn�t let me. She said all the
Champions had to lead the first dance.� Suddenly he grinned, and Draco almost
choked on his sandwich, and didn�t know why. The smile was probably just too
quick, that was all, he told himself. He was used to his mother�s slow, pleased
half-smiles and his father�s smirks. �So I told her I could come without a
partner and just dance the one dance and then sit aside, or come with one and
make so much noise and mess she�d never forget it.�

�� You threatened her?� Draco was torn between
gaping and laughing.

�� It wasn�t
a threat,� Harry said, in such self-satisfied tones that Draco knew he must
have used the same words to Professor McGonagall, �it was a prophecy.�

�� The rest of
the evening blurred in a way that Draco had never imagined it could. Of course,
he only had his parents� parties for comparison to the Yule Ball, and those
were always boring affairs, overcrowded with adults and girls his own age who
wanted to giggle madly and boys younger than he was who still thought it was
important to prove who could sting each other with sparks. Well, and Vincent
and Greg, but they were hardly decent conversationalists.

�� Harry and
Draco talked about Quidditch, brooms, Harry�s godfather�still in South America,
it appeared, and Harry wasn�t anxious for him to get back, because that would
mean more people hunting him in Britain�what it was like to live with the
Durmstrang students, the latest Astronomy exam that almost everyone in the class
had managed to fail, and what the Second Task was likely to be. Harry knew it
had something to do with the golden dragon�s egg he�d retrieved during the
First Task, which was hinged and opened, but which only produced a horrible
screeching sound when that happened. Draco suggested that he could listen to
the sound and give Harry his opinion about what kind of horrible fate was
awaiting him in the Second Task.

�� That earned
him a swat on the back of the head and a smile. The swat wasn�t worth anything,
Draco knew; it didn�t even sting. The smile was worth everything.

�� And he
still didn�t know why, anymore than
he knew why he hadn�t wanted Harry to bring Chang to the Ball, or why seeing
Harry come by himself was�satisfying, but not as good as he�d expected it to
be. Draco didn�t know what was wrong with him.

�� No matter
what he didn�t know, though, he couldn�t possibly be as blind as Professor
Snape, who spent every moment he wasn�t stalking about the rose gardens and
blasting snogging couples out of the bushes glaring steadily at Harry. Once,
Harry looked up and caught his eye. At once, his face stiffened the way Draco
had tried to make his own face when he saw Harry first come in, and he looked
away.

�� Are you
not getting on with Professor Snape?� Draco asked; their speculations about the
egg had dried up.

�� Yes,�
Harry said, and looked startled at the question. He pushed his glasses up his
nose, which Draco had come to recognize as a sign of thoughtfulness, with him
(and thus rare). �We have lessons just like we always did, and I�m improving in
Potions. A bit,� he had the honesty to add when Draco glanced at him.

�� Draco hummed
under his breath and said nothing more. Harry thought training was enough. He
thought lessons were enough.

�� Snape had
said he would die for Harry, and in a way, it was ungrateful of Harry to forget
that.

�� On the
other hand, what in the world could he be expected to do, if Snape said one
thing and did another?

*

�� Severus let
out a long, patient breath. He had, for the moment, escaped from the section of
his office where Potter stood struggling with various water plants to try and
create a Purifying Potion, and stood among the shelves filled with vials,
corks, pipes, and ordinary healing potions of various kinds and colors and
substances.

�� He had been
trying, all evening, to hint to Potter what the Second Task must be like. Severus
had watched closely, and had managed to be present at one of the times that
Potter gingerly opened his golden egg. He had recognized the garbled screeching
at once. It was the language of the merfolk. Severus had been present a few
times when Dumbledore went down to the lake to negotiate a new treaty with
them. Dumbledore had insisted he come to �learn something about the operations
of peace and justice.�

�� The boy
didn�t know this. It didn�t seem to have occurred to him to try submerging the
egg in water. And of course he was hopeless at spying on the other Champions,
and Draco�s efforts to strike up casual conversations with Krum in which he
could pry details out of him didn�t work.

�� Severus had
decided that the best way to hint the truth to Potter was through his potions
lessons. They had been working on common poisons and antidotes until this
point, and then Severus had abruptly introduced him to potions that protected
the skin when one was swimming for a long period of time and the Purifying
Potion, which was meant to make salt water fresh. Potter should have been
suspicious of the change of emphasis and begun to wonder what Severus was
trying to tell him. But he had accepted the change without a murmur.

�� How stupid is the boy? Severus had long
since thought that Potter simply did not apply himself in Potions, but Potter
passed the exacting Defense Against the Dark Arts sessions with Moody this year
easily, and he had certainly managed to produce a corporeal Patronus with
training and encouragement, which was harder than any number of potions. He did
well even in Transfiguration and Charms, the bane of students who were lazy or
looked too much for shortcuts (though Severus suspected Granger helped him
there). He had failed his last Astronomy exam, but so had much of the class;
Sinistra had shamefacedly admitted that she had made the exam far too hard out
of her anger at breaking one of her better telescopes. And Potter had instincts, as could be seen in the way
that he flew that broom and juggled both Draco and his friends. He had the
right ingredients to succeed in Severus�s class as well as notice more of what
was going on about him, the way that the Triwizard Tournament demanded so that
one might survive it.

�� But he did
not do it.

�� Perhaps you are coddling him too much.
Perhaps you should be sharp again, and force him to defend himself.

�� Severus
sighed. No. He already knew that tactic would not work, and he was disgusted
with himself for suggesting it. Potter had made a permanent change for the
worse in that direction after Finnigan burned his possessions. When confronting
pointed enough insults, he simply retreated into his damned isolation and
waited out the attacker with a blank face and muted emotions. He would do it
again if Severus tried insults again, and in the meantime, he would refuse to
learn, as he so desperately needed to.

�� So he could
not use the strategy that would make him the most comfortable, and he was not
about to spoon-feed the brat the answers. What to do?

�� Severus turned
around to go back into the main part of the office�it was never a good idea to
leave Potter alone too long with a boiling cauldron, although the Purifying
Potion had no poisonous or explosive ingredients�and paused when he saw a clump
of a small plant just above his eye. Gillyweed.
Which allows one to breathe underwater, and which Potter will surely need when
the Second Task comes, because Merlin knows he could not manage the Bubble-Head
Charm or the correct Transfiguration at this time.

�� Severus
took the gillyweed and carried it back into the main part of the office. Potter
looked up at him apprehensively for a moment before he closed his expression
off. Severus found himself unexpectedly irritated. Yes, it was a good thing
that Potter was learning to control his volatile emotions, but why in the name
of sanity did he have to do it so often in front of Severus? One would think
Severus had made enough sacrifices to earn a bit of trust by now.

�� Potter,�
said Severus, and dropped the gillyweed on the table in front of the boy.
�Study this. I want a four-inch essay on it within the week.�

�� Potter
peered at the weed with a doubtful expression. �What is it, sir?�

�� Sir. The boy had gone back to titles
again. Of course, he hadn�t ever really stopped since they had resumed the
lessons. He calls Black by his name, I am
certain, Severus thought, and a corrosive blast of something like jealousy
rolled through him.

�� That is
for you to find out, of course,� Severus said, and when he saw the overwhelmed
expression on the boy�s face, he relaxed enough to add, as a great concession,
�It is a water plant, like the others you have been studying.�

�� Thank you,
sir,� said the boy, and put the gillyweed in a corked vial that had been lying
beside the cauldron. At least Severus had trained him well enough that he no
longer simply stuffed delicate potions ingredients directly into his pocket.

�� The
caution, the thanks�they would have to do for now. Severus was only glad that
Black was not present this year. He would have won Potter�s heart without
struggle, at least as long as there was this odd barrier between Severus and
the brat.

*

�� Harry drew
his wand as he stepped into the bedroom. First, no one except Seamus was there.
Second, Seamus was waving his wand at Harry�s trunk with a frown of
concentration on his face.

�� Did you
think you�d burn my clothes this time?� Harry snapped.

�� Seamus
jumped and spun around to face him. Harry hated the expression on his face. It
was full of fear and hatred. Voldemort might look like that; Tom Riddle had
looked like that when he realized Harry was killing the diary. But someone who
was a Gryffindor and Harry�s age shouldn�t look like that.

�� You
shouldn�t be here,� said Seamus. He was speaking so low that Harry almost
thought he heard a growl in his voice. �Just�just �leave Gryffindor Tower the way I tried to banish you.�

�� I�m not a
ghost,� Harry said, edging towards his trunk. He still would have felt more
comfortable if someone else was here, but at least Seamus backed up. �And I�m
not a vampire. I�m me, Harry, and you won�t touch my things again.� He cast a
quick glance at the trunk, and was reassured that the sparking barrier of wards
and protective charms still hovered over it. Still, he would have to get Draco
or Ron to teach him some more. He thought for a moment of asking Snape, but
dismissed the idea. Snape would probably be happy if Harry�s Firebolt burned,
because that way he couldn�t compete against Slytherin next year.

�� You�re a
Parselmouth,� said Seamus. �That�s bad enough.� He didn�t cower in front of
Harry this time, the way he always did when there were others around to see. He
stood up straight instead and stared at Harry intently. Harry wasn�t
frightened, but he didn�t like it. �You shouldn�t be here,� he repeated.

�� Oh, that�s
a nice thing for people like you to say,� Harry snapped.

�� People
like me?�

�� This time,
the expression on Seamus�s face was so ugly that Harry took a step back. But he
thought the fear had increased more than the hatred. Then he told himself not
to be silly. He couldn�t read emotions as deeply as that. Being around a Slytherin is a bad influence on me.

�� People who
burn each other�s things,� Harry said, taking a firmer grip on the wand.
�People who try to drive someone else out of the only place they�ve ever felt
at home.�

�� Seamus
relaxed, and then took a deep breath and said, �Someday you�ll go too far and
do something you regret, and then everyone will know what kind of person you really are,� before he ran out the door.

�� Harry sat
down on the bed and shook his head, perplexed. That was weird. Seamus had some kind of grudge that his spell hadn�t worked?
Why should he be that surprised? And why was he still after Harry�s possessions
two years later?

�� After some
thought, Harry took the map out of his trunk and tucked it into his pocket. He
was going to carry it around with him from now on. If someone burned it�

�� Well, he
couldn�t bear it, that was all, and he wouldn�t let it happen.

�� Then he
grabbed his Firebolt and flew out the window. He was going to hide it somewhere
no one would think to look for it: on the top of the Owlery, which you couldn�t
reach unless you climbed out one of the windows and then around the difficult,
curving dome of the tower. Harry could always Summon it if he needed it.

�� He circled
high over the grounds, watching them gleam under the wash of a heavy snow and
the dim February sun. The lake flashed dazzlingly, and Harry cursed and lifted
a hand to shield his eyes from the glare.

�� The lake.
The weed Snape had given him the other day, which had turned out to be
gillyweed that let people breathe underwater. The sudden way he�d had Harry
making potions that had to do with the sea and so on.

�� The
material came together in Harry�s head the way it sometimes�rarely�did before
Potions quizzes, and he laughed aloud. At least he knew where to go for the
Second Task, now.

�� He was so
happy that he decided, as he climbed down from the top of the Owlery, briefly
hanging by one hand over a steep drop as the stone wobbled beneath him, that he
wouldn�t tell Draco about Seamus. That would only lead to Draco worrying.

�� And I don�t think he needs to know about my
climb, either, Harry thought, as he faltered, slipped, and slid into the
Owlery window just in time. He�s a great
friend, Merlin knows, but he spends too much time worrying. He needs someone to
worry about him, too.

*

�� Draco had
wondered why he was summoned to Dumbledore�s office so late at night. Perhaps
the Headmaster knew he had been receiving letters regularly from his father,
each time offering some new and more important bit of news. The latest one said
to beware of Karkaroff, whom Lucius thought was involved in more Dark Arts than
would be safe for Draco to practice in public.

�� Draco
imagined Dumbledore asking him to become a spy, the way that Snape had
half-admitted now he had been among the Death Eaters. The thought made Draco
puff up with importance. It was one thing to try and find information for Harry
because Harry was his friend, but this would be different. Important. Special.

�� He stood in
Dumbledore�s office with a girl from Ravenclaw that he knew slightly�Krum had
taken her to the Yule Ball�a small silver-haired girl who looked rather like
Fleur Delacour, and, of all people, Cho Chang. Draco cast her one incredulous
glance and then ignored her, but already his dreams had vanished. He knew he
hadn�t been called here to be a spy, not if she
was here.

�� Dumbledore
surveyed all of them slowly out of bright eyes through his glasses. He looked
tired and grim. He spent a lot of time looking at Draco, and then shook his
head and turned away with a small shrug.

�� You are
here to become part of the Second Task,� he said.

�� Draco�s
breath caught, and some of his dreams revived.

�� The
Champions will need to dive into the lake to rescue the person most important
to them,� Dumbledore continued, and picked up a bottle of sparkling crystal.
The potion within it shifted around and shone like crystal itself, and Draco
recognized it: a powerful Protective Potion. It could allow someone to survive
breathing smoke for long periods of time, or wading barefoot through lava. �We
will use a potion to protect you from the effects of the water and the
merfolk�s handling.� He smiled apologetically. �I�m afraid that you�ll spend most
of the time asleep, so as to increase the efficacy of the potion, and so won�t
get to see much of the Task. But I promise, you won�t be in any danger, and
you�ll be brought back to the surface soon after sunrise tomorrow
morning�either by the Champion assigned to rescue you, or by someone else if
that should not work.� He peered from face to face. �Do you have any
questions?�

�� They all
shook their heads, though the little girl who must be Delacour�s sister looked
incredibly upset and helpless and Draco felt sorry for her. Then Dumbledore
gave them each a dose of the Protective Potion�first to Chang, who
volunteered�and the little girl looked reassured when Chang went on breathing
as normal.

�� Draco
enjoyed his own dose of the Protective Potion. It went down his throat like
water turned to sunlight and filled his mouth with a sweet and shining taste.

�� Dumbledore
waved his wand, and the three girls fell to the floor, deeply asleep and
snoring like lions. The Protective Potion kept them from taking any bruises as
they fell, but Draco still thought that Dumbledore could have arranged a
cushion for them.

�� Then he
realized Dumbledore hadn�t put him to sleep yet, and stared at the Headmaster.
Dumbledore was once again peering at him the way he had when Draco first
stepped into the room, his expression very grave.

�� Mr.
Malfoy,� he said. �I must confess that I did not expect to see you here. I was
certain that Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger would be the person Mr. Potter valued
the most.�

�� Draco
swallowed. He didn�t have words prepared, because he hadn�t expected this at
all, but he had to say something. �Well, they aren�t,� he said. �And unless
you�re going to kick me out now and summon Weasley��

�� Oh, no,�
Dumbledore said, almost sadly. �The spell we used to determine the person each
Champion valued was very specific.� He hesitated, then said, �You may wish to
reconsider your association with Mr. Potter in the light of what happens after
the Tournament.�

�� What
happens after the Tournament?� Draco thought he managed to make it into a good
question and not simply parrot Dumbledore.

�� Harry will
undoubtedly receive even more attention,� Dumbledore said. �Not always from the
people he values.�

�� I�m
already aware of that,� Draco said, as calmly as he could. �And prepared.�

�� Oh,
child,� Dumbledore whispered, his face haunted. �No one who has not seen war
can know what it is like.�

�� I think I
know better than Harry,� said Draco. �And I want to be there. I want to protect
him.�

�� You are
the son of his enemy,� Dumbledore said quietly. �The heir of a very different
world from the one Harry inhabits. I ask you to reconsider your association not
solely for your safety, but for Harry�s, and for what you stand to lose if you
walk at his side.�

�� You can�t
frighten me,� said Draco. �So sod off.�

�� The
Headmaster sighed, and cast the sleeping spell. Draco was grateful he didn�t
have to feel himself slump to the floor in an undignified manner.

*

�� Harry dived
smoothly into the water, still munching on the last of the gillyweed. He
shivered and gasped for a moment as the gills on his neck opened up, but then
he could plunge his head under the water and sink, his lighted wand leading the
way.

�� The murky
green-brown water swirled around him, trying to blind him. Harry kept searching
through the muck for a glimpse of people. He didn�t know exactly who or what
he�d come down here to find, but at the very least, he knew the other Champions
would be after it.

�� He shivered
and cast an absent Warming Charm, and then the first merman darted in front of
him.

�� Harry
pulled up, staring. Two mermaids swam behind the merman, looking at him with
large eyes that reminded Harry uncomfortably of the way Seamus had looked at
him when he came into the room last week. But they were only distractions, he
reminded himself, and so he curled his knees up to his chest and spun towards
them.

�� They
reached out to stop him. Harry pulled up at the last moment and stroked
backwards and up, avoiding them the way he would Bludgers at a Quidditch game.

�� He quickly
discovered that they could move more quickly than Bludgers, whilst he wasn�t
used to the way the water clung to his limbs and slowed him down. He cast a
curse that Snape had taught him, a mild stinging hex, which here manifested as
a jet of hot water that scalded one of the mermaids. She fell back, wailing,
but two more came to take her place.

�� Harry
caught a glimpse of someone swimming in the background, someone so large and
wide-shouldered that it had to be Krum. He frowned impatiently and decided that
he didn�t have time to hang around like this battling merfolk. So he chanted a
spell that Sirius and Remus had taught him last year and said they�d used
against bullies when they were in Hogwarts. (Only after he�d overheard the
conversation between Snape and Sirius had Harry realized that they�d probably
meant Snape).

�� Copies of
himself began to appear around him, complete illusions, first one on either
side, then two, and then four and sixteen and thirty-two, budding not only off
him but from the copies of the copies. They would retain some solidity and
warmth for a minute or so after they were grabbed, which meant the merfolk
couldn�t decide who the real one was easily. Harry ducked past their confused
cries and swam on down towards the bottom of the lake.

�� Four people
were bound with long, twisted ropes of seaweed to pillars sunk into the lake
mud. Harry saw two people he didn�t know, Cho with her long hair drifting in
the current around her�

�� And Draco.

�� Harry
caught his breath, and then felt indignation grow in him. Draco�s eyes were
closed, and he didn�t appear to be in any pain, but still. He would hate to be in a position like this that made him
so�so passive. He would enjoy being awake and the center of attention, Harry
knew, but not like this.

�� Dumbledore should have asked him if he
wanted to participate, he thought, and cast a curse that slashed through
the seaweed ropes. It was really meant for slicing human flesh, but Harry had
seen Snape use it on potions ingredients. It worked this time as well as it
ever had, and Harry grabbed Draco around the waist and turned to face the
surface again.

�� Then he
discovered the merfolk drifting in front of them again, their mouths open to
show teeth that Harry reckoned could be dangerous. Hagrid had never had them
study merfolk in Care of Magical Creatures. Harry was beginning to wish he had.

�� Care of Magical Creatures.

�� That gave
Harry an idea. There was no reason he couldn�t use the same tactics twice in
the First and Second Task. He lifted his wand and yelled the Summoning Charm,
followed by the name of a creature Hagrid had had them take all too close a
look at.

�� A whoosh, a
plop, and then one of Hagrid�s Blast-Ended Skrewts was flailing away at the
mermaids and mermen. They had no idea what to do, and so they responded by
scattering and trying to reform beneath the thing. The Blast-Ended Skrewt,
meanwhile, was heading after them with single-minded determination. Perhaps it
was made more active in water, or perhaps it liked to eat fish. Harry didn�t
know, and had no intention of staying to find out. He hauled Draco to the
surface, and managed to throw him onto shore, gasping as his body lurched in
one moment from breathing air through the gills to breathing it through the
lungs.

�� Draco at
once turned over and spat out a whole stream of lake water. Harry looked
around. Krum was surfacing not far from them with one of the strange girls, and
Cedric was right behind him, holding Cho. Fleur must still be under the water.
Harry felt a moment�s brief regret that he hadn�t been the one to rescue Cho�maybe
she would have smiled at him�but then Draco was awake and talking, and Harry
had to turn back to him.

�� That was
fast,� he said. �Or it felt fast.� He blinked and touched his head as if it
hurt. �It feels like I wasn�t asleep for long.�

�� Why did
you let Dumbledore do that to you?� Harry demanded. �It was dangerous��

�� Oh, not
really,� said Draco, and stretched, and smiled. He was looking very strangely
at Harry, who continued to float in the water, as if he thought he needed to
memorize Harry�s face before he disappeared or something. �We had a Protective
Potion in us. That kept us from suffering just about anything, including
drowning. And the sleeping charm was used to make sure we weren�t
uncomfortable.� He reached out and rested a hand on Harry�s shoulder. �Anyway,
now I can imitate Ginny Weasley and say you�re my hero.�

�� Harry felt
his face heat up. Ginny had been bloody embarrassing about that the first few
weeks of last year, though thankfully she�d calmed down.

�� I was just
rescuing you,� he said. �You needed rescuing.�

�� That time,�
Draco said, and scowled, and looked more like the Draco Harry knew and was
ready to count one of his best friends. �I won�t, always.�

�� I know,�
Harry said.

�� Harry!�

�� He looked
up, and contained a sigh. Ron and Hermione were coming along the lakeshore
towards them. Hermione looked worried and determined, Ron grim and determined.
Both of them were staring at Draco.

�� We�ve taken what you�ll sorely miss,�
Draco muttered, quoting the rhyme from the egg that Harry had finally managed
to translate by putting the egg into water. �I reckon they�ll want to know why
you sorely missed me.�

�� And I�ll
tell them the truth,� Harry countered, and pulled himself out of the water to
face the cheering crowd and his frowning friends.

*

�� Severus
smiled a little and leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on Draco where he sat
and Potter where he stood, apparently giving some unwelcome news to his
Gryffindor friends, from the way they gaped at him and then stared at Draco,
then gaped at Draco and stared at him.

�� Potter had
taken Severus�s hints. He had utilized the gillyweed for the purpose it was
meant for.

�� Severus was surprised that he had rescued Draco,
and not someone else, from the lake water, but he knew Draco would be full of
smugness and spirit for the next week, and that, in one way, made it the best
thing that could have happened. Potter should begin giving something back for
the devotion that Draco had shown him so far.

�� But Severus
could see the situation from another angle. He would have to warn Draco to
beware of Lucius.

�� And perhaps of Karkaroff, he thought,
glancing at the Headmaster of Durmstrang, who didn�t seem to know whether to
scowl at his favorite student�s loss�the judges had apparently awarded Potter the
top points for the task�or clutch his left arm. A known Death Eater around the boy�no, I think Lucius is the greater
danger, and Karkaroff would avoid going back to the Dark Lord�s service if he
could, but still, he is too weak to resist compulsion. It is entirely possible that
Lucius would try to use him against Draco.

�� For some
reason, Potter looked up just at that moment, and his eyes met Severus�s. Severus
made his face stern. The boy should not look to him for approval. He had done well at the Second Task, but this sort of
brainless dashing to the rescue would not benefit him much in everyday life,
and if he had been a good student, he would have figured out Severus�s hints
the first day he started giving them.

�� Potter
glanced down again. Severus was glad of it.

*

�� Draco could
not be more pleased as the school year stretched its wings and sped through
March and April. His father was sending him more and more letters, trusting him
with more and more secrets.

�� Karkaroff has contacted me. He appears to
fear that the Dark Lord is returning rather earlier than expected. I have tried
to reassure him, only to receive a letter loaded with vitriol and strange
screeds. I believe he may be teetering on the edge of madness. Stay away from
him if you can�

�� Yes, of course I am rather disconcerted that
you were Potter�s most precious thing. But we cannot always choose what other
people value us, or why; we can only give them encouragement or discouragement,
as needed. I would recommend that you stay close to Potter, if he will still
have you after that very public rescue. Cultivating his friendship could be
useful.

�� One of Mr. Parkinson�s business concerns is
about to go under. I am now more glad than ever that I never contracted a marriage
for you with his girl, who, if your reports are anything to go by, has rather inherited
his intolerable personality than otherwise.

�� Yes, from what I have heard, I may say that
you will learn something useful from Moody. And a reputation can be deceiving,
my son (as your father knows full well). Moody has been known to practice a
Darker Art or two in his day. Pay attention to his lessons, and if you have the
chance to catch him alone and flatter him enough, perhaps he will let down his
guard and teach you something important.

�� Draco did
not think that last was likely to happen, not with Moody�s mantra of �CONSTANT
VIGILANCE!� But his father thought it
was true, and he didn�t mind letting Draco into his innermost thoughts. Yes,
Draco�s career as a spy was progressing well.

�� And, in the
meantime, he continued to be Harry�s friend, and even sometimes to associate
with the pair of sulky Gryffindors who had replaced the smug Granger and Weasel
when Harry told them off for being surprised about the end of the Second Task.
Harry mediated between them like a small but determined diplomat, and also
ensured that he and Draco regularly got some time alone.

�� The time
alone was sweet to Draco, though it was hard to say why.

�� The only
thing he didn�t have to be happy about was the state of affairs between Harry
and Professor Snape, which was more a mess than ever.

*

�� Harry was
exhausted. Oh, his friendship with Draco was going well enough, and he wasn�t
as worried about the Third Task as he used to be, and he had even managed a few
fragile get-togethers between he, Ron, Hermione, and Draco, where he kept Ron
from insulting Draco�s father and Draco from calling Hermione a Mudblood.

�� But the
lessons with Professor Snape were going to kill him.

�� Snape had
increased the lessons from two nights a week to three, and then four. He then
insisted that Harry stay longer each time, and he had begun to snap at him
during the �detentions� as he did during the classes for making mistakes. Harry
had argued that he didn�t have as much time to make the potions as he did
during the class. Snape had simply replied that they were all simple potions
from years ago, and if he had learned to make them correctly the first time
around, this wouldn�t have happened.

�� And Snape was
present one night when a parrot swooped into the dungeons and brought one of
Sirius�s notes to Harry. Jumping to conclusions, Harry thought, he snarled, �Is
that Black�s parrot?�

�� Yes,�
Harry said, taking the letter and starting to open it.

�� You will
read his post later.� And Snape
actually snarled, his voice so deep and dangerous that Harry thought of Uncle
Vernon, and moved into a position where he could better defend himself. Not
that Uncle Vernon had ever hit him except for a cuff now and then on the back
of the head, but he always looked like he wanted to, and right now Snape looked
the same way.

�� All right,�
Harry said, when some moments passed and Snape just went on staring at him. �I
will.� And then he turned back to the table and picked up the stirring rod and
the vial of green water Snape had shoved at him this evening. His hands were
shaking, but he hoped to hide that by brewing furiously, in accordance with the
instructions.

�� Not that
fast.� Snape stepped up behind him, and Harry flinched again. Snape paused,
then reached over Harry�s shoulder and began to move his own stirring rod
through the liquid in the cauldron in much calmer circles. Harry took a deep
breath and held still. Snape at last pulled the rod back and said, �It must be
that way, or you will ruin the potion.�

�� Yes, sir,�
Harry said.

�� For some
reason, the title irritated Snape, and he stalked away towards his potions
stores, with no sign of the gentleness he�d shown a moment before. �Return to
your brewing,� he said.

�� Harry bowed
his head and continued his work. He didn�t have the option of ending the
lessons, because Snape had said he would take points if Harry did, but he
already knew he wouldn�t continue the lessons next year. Snape was a bastard. He acted like it was a favor
that he was teaching Harry at all, even though he had been the one to insist
that Harry return to the dungeons. He snarled and snapped at him about mistakes
that Harry had seen him explain patiently to Draco in the classroom.

�� And when
Draco was around�

�� Harry
swallowed. He knew it was wrong to be jealous of Draco, even if he was sometimes. Draco didn�t have a good
family like Ron, but he got to go home to a big house each summer and eat whatever
he wanted. But he was in lots of danger from his father if his father ever found
out what he was doing, and he had actually tiptoed around for a few days after
the Second Task because he had been afraid of an angry letter. And he had
turned against his family to help Harry. He deserved respect.

�� But when
Draco was around, Snape showed that he was capable of calmness and gentleness
and patience. He just wanted to show them to a student who wasn�t Harry.

�� He
explained things much more slowly to Draco, and didn�t blame him for not
remembering everything the first time. He praised his success with smiles and slightly
softer glances of his eyes, and the way he spoke in riddles�well, Draco was
able to figure out the compliments hidden in the riddles, which Harry couldn�t
do much with. And he was teaching him more interesting
things, like the lying and acting and some spells that hovered on the border
between Dark Arts and legal magic. Snape had quit the lessons in Dark Arts now
and insisted that Harry pay attention only to potions. When Harry protested, he
snapped that Harry had to earn the privilege of a duel by doing at least one
complicated potion right the first time.

�� So he was
like a godfather to Draco, even though he wasn�t really.

�� And Harry�s
godfather was far away in South America, and Snape snarled at the mere mention
of him and punished Harry for getting his letters.

�� Harry had
thought, back sometime last year when Snape defended Sirius against the
Dementors and then stood up to him for Harry, that it was possible he could be
more than just a pupil to Snape. But that was a stupid thing to think about,
and an even stupider thing to hope for.

�� He had
friends, for God�s sake, Harry thought, driving his stirring rod savagely
through the potion. Why did he need an adult? They always failed in the end. At
least, if Sirius came back towards the end of the year and managed to watch
Harry compete in the Third Task, as he was promising to do, Harry would have
someone around who loved him for what he was. He couldn�t trust Sirius, not all
the way, but it had to be better to be around Sirius�s pranks and careless talk
than Snape�s sharp tongue.

�� Potter! Do
not stir that way!�

�� No matter what I do, Harry thought, and
he was thinking of Snape and the Dursleys both, it�s never right.

*

�� Severus had
offered bribes to the boy, in the form of easy potions that he should have had
no trouble completing. He had offered help, in the form of the gillyweed (which
the boy must have figured out, since he had used it during the Second Task, but
for which he had never thanked Severus). He had shown Potter, in the form of
Draco, who sometimes attended their lessons and sometimes did not, what a model
student should look like.

�� Potter
refused to listen to him, or to respond positively no matter what Severus did.
Sullen, stubborn, backwards, he lowered his head and plodded away after the
lessons. He never took fire during the brewing as Draco did, as the simplest
child in Slytherin often did when he or she bothered to listen to Severus�s
explanations. He was focused solely on the Dark Arts and the Defense lessons,
and he had reacted like a toddler with a temper tantrum�glares and muttering
under his breath�when Severus began to curtail them in favor of concentrating
on Potions, which Potter clearly needed more help with.

�� He wanted
his own way. He did not appear to understand that part of being a pupil and a
child under the care of an adult was not getting one�s own way all the time.

�� Severus had
begun to compare him unfavorably with Draco in all sorts of matters. Potter was
considerably less intelligent, less interested in Severus�s favorite subjects,
less forwards in asking questions. He appeared to want to figure things out on
his own, even when he could not. He would glare like a scorpion when Severus asked him if he needed help, however.

�� He took
insults too much to heart. He reacted badly to the mildest of mockery. He
needed the armor that Draco had grown from living with Lucius. Severus no longer
believed the claims of bad treatment that Potter had half made about the
Muggles. He was far too sensitive, and he would have managed some better way of
coping with verbal and emotional abuse if he had really experienced it.

�� God knew,
Severus had.

�� And then
for him to regard his dogfather�s letters with a shining look in his eyes, as
if a man absent for almost a year had done more for him than the Potions
Professor who thanklessly gave up his free time to spend with the brat�

�� It maddened
Severus.

�� And Draco
kept looking at him gravely and warning Severus about losing Potter. Severus
asked what more he could do.

�� Talk to
him like you do to me,� was Draco�s infuriating advice.

�� He doesn�t
deserve that yet,� Severus snarled back.

�� Draco had
given him an incredulous look. Severus understood it, but he could not gratify
Draco�s curiosity. The memories of his connection with Lily were too private,
the memories of his bullying at the hands of James Potter and Sirius Black too
tender.

�� Severus had
been sure that his more sustained attention to the boy would result in a
blossoming. He would have given his right arm for someone to have paid more attention
to him when he was a student, enough to realize what the problems were that he
could not bring himself to tell anyone about.

�� But Potter
presumably didn�t receive the right kind of attention, so he refused to
respond.

�� They were
at an impasse, and Severus was sure of one thing: Potter was neither as clever
nor as much of a Slytherin as he had thought.

*

�� I wanted
to show you this, Draco.�

�� Draco held
out his hand automatically, and eagerly, to receive the gift that Professor
Moody wanted to give him. Lucius had been right about him. Moody was an
excellent teacher, unafraid to show them the Unforgivable Curses.

�� And if his
association with the Dark Arts was more sinister than Lucius had described it�well,
Karkaroff had tried to get Draco alone a few times, which Draco had
successfully avoided, so his father was right about that. And anyway, Draco knew he had Lucius completely fooled. Every
letter that arrived revealed more. He had never suspected that Draco had pawed
among his letters that day in the library, and Draco�s responses, careful
blends of lies and �innocent� questions, had amused and reassured Lucius since.

�� Professor
Moody placed what looked like a twist knot of gold in Draco�s palm. Draco
raised an eyebrow. �What�s this, sir?� He kept an unimpressed tone in his words;
Moody didn�t mind a bit of insolence, as long as the student who was showing it
did well in his class.

�� Moody
looked both directions�they were in the corridor outside his office�and then
leaned nearer, lowering his voice. �You and both know that Harry Potter is the
real Hogwarts Champion,� he said.

�� Draco
looked up, eyes narrowed. �I know that,� he said. He figured it was no use denying
it; by now, most people realized that Harry and Draco spent quite a bit of time
together. �But I thought no one else did. Most of them are supporting Cedric
Diggory.�

�� Moody
chuckled, a rusty sound. His magical eye rolled around his head and then came
back to orient on Draco. �I support the winning side,� he said. �And who came
in first in the Second Task and second in the First? It wasn�t Diggory.�

�� Draco
grinned, but he felt a touch of reserve, still. �So you don�t think he put his
name in the Goblet, sir?�

�� I know he
didn�t.� Moody pronounced the words with great satisfaction, for some reason.
Draco wondered if he�d been disputing with Snape on the subject. Snape would
certainly have had plenty to say. �Now, this is something that should give Mr.
Potter a bit of an advantage.� He nodded to the golden knot. �I know he�s too
noble to cheat for himself, but�� He broke off and shrugged elaborately.

�� Draco found
himself grinning more widely.

�� This will
form a map of the maze that the Third Task comprises as soon as Potter touches
it,� Moody whispered. �But it�s timed to become useless fairly soon; I couldn�t
risk its being left about and someone else finding out I helped you.
Dumbledore, at least, would recognize my magical signature right away. He has
two hours to conjure and copy down the map.� Both his eyes were fixed on Draco
now. �I would take it to him right away, if I were you.�

�� Draco
turned and ran as fast as he could go. He knew Harry was on the Quidditch pitch
right now, practicing with the Weasel for the matches they would play next
year. He pounded away from Moody�s classroom, down more flights of stairs than
he liked to remember, and out into the May sunlight through the front doors. By
then, he was panting, and he thought of what the Weasel would say.

�� Well, fuck
him. He hadn�t done anything to help Harry with the Tasks.

�� He made out
Harry right away, ducking and dodging above him on the broom. Harry saw him and
at once made a tight spin down. Draco watched, heart in his throat. He was good
on a broom, but Harry was a master.

�� And now he
was doubly nervous about playing Harry in the game between Slytherin and Gryffindor
next year. Sure, he�d done it once before, but they hadn�t been friends then,
and Harry hadn�t been mounted on a Firebolt.

�� Harry
pulled up a few inches above the ground, grinned at him, and said, �What have
you got there?�

�� Draco
hesitated. Harry probably wouldn�t want to use it if Draco told him what it
was; he would think that was cheating. But if he saw the map once, he couldn�t
unsee it. And Weasel was coming down behind Harry now, eager as ever to shatter
any time that Harry and Draco managed to get by themselves. He would make Harry
take this advantage.

�� So he said,
�Something that can help you,� and held out the golden knot.

�� Harry
grasped it.

�� And, in a
whirlwind of colors, he vanished.

�� Weasley
screamed. Draco reached out and groped in the air where Harry had been like a
fool. Then something light drifted down and hit him on the head. Draco reached
up, moving as slowly as though he were in a dream, and took the thing out of
his hair.

�� It was a letter.

�� Do not ever, Lucius�s handwriting said, assume you can fool your father as to where
your true allegiances lie.

�� And the realization
that his father had used him to betray Harry came down on Draco and blotted out
the sun.

*

�� DTDY: Snape
is falling further and further behind, alas.

�� Dumbledore
would have allowed it, but no one thought to ask him.

�� callistianstar:
Thank you! I hope you will forgive me for putting more obstacles in Snape�s relationship
with Harry; the problem is that he thinks he is giving all that he�s capable of
giving, and not questioning whether that�s what Harry needs.

�� Ecks: Thank
you!

�� LarienMiriel:
Thanks for reviewing.

�� Mangacat:
Thanks. I like this confident (sometimes overconfident) Draco.

�� Sneakyfox:
Yes, Snape is a real piece of work.

�� And I think
Harry solved the problem of Draco�s jealousy�at the Ball�quite neatly.

�� Whitmore:
Thank you! This is the first chapter where the book goes seriously AU; I�m
eager to see how you like it.

��
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Inter Vivos