Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Family Means More Than Blood	By : WingsofaDream Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 59825 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 7
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its associated characters are property of J K Rowling, not me. This story is not being written for profit, just for the lols.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
6th September 1991: Morning

Harry groaned lightly as he stumbled out of the portrait hole, into the corridor behind, only just catching himself before he tipped over the whole way. Luckily, he soon recovered and dashed off to his right in order to try and make it to his first DADA lesson of the school year without being more than a few minutes late. As he ran, he struggled to tie his hair into a neat braid, the mass of black strands brought over his shoulder so his hands could twist and manipulate them and the length of black ribbon which he used to tie it dangling from in between his teeth.

Harry hated the first week back at school after the summer holidays for one reason only; it was so hard to get back into the habit of waking up at around six o'clock in the morning. Back home, he was allowed to stay in bed for as long as he wanted, usually only emerging from his bedroom at around midday when his stomach began to demand food. At Hogwarts however, he had to get up to get into the bathroom before everyone else, sort out his bag with all his books and such and then go down to the Great Hall for breakfast. It was too much! Add that to the fact that Fred and George never saw fit to wake him up and then make sure he actually got up, it was no real surprise that for the first week back at school, Harry got no breakfast and was usually late for his first lesson of the day.

Jumping off the last couple of steps on the flight of stairs he had been running down, Harry began to try and tie the end of his braid off without slowing down. He had absolutely no luck going at the speed which he was and he resigned himself to the fact he was going to have to stop, if only for a moment, in order to tie the ribbon securely. So, skidding to an abrupt halt, Harry quickly pushed his glasses back up his nose before swiftly tying the ribbon around the end of his braid with an ease and precision which had only been perfected with a copious amount of practice.

With that done, the braid was flipped back over his shoulder and the dark haired boy went to dash off again. However, a sight to his left caught his eye and made him stop before he even started. Not too far off from him was a short, slight pudgy, brown haired boy who Harry recognised as one of the new First Years and he looked rather intimidated and lost. Harry felt a pang of sympathy for the boy and, with no consideration for how late it was going to make him, he headed over to him.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked gently, almost as if to make sure the boy did not bolt like a frightened animal.

"I-I can't find my classroom." The boy stammered nervously, obviously making sure not to make eye contact with Harry.

"That's perfectly understandable, it is a massive school after all. What lesson do you have now?"

"Potions."

"Ah, lucky you. In that case, you're in completely the wrong place. You need the dungeons. C'mon, I'll take to down there." He offered with a kind smile which seemed to ease the other boy's apprehension somewhat. He got a timid smile in reply and Harry took that as an acceptance so he turned and headed off in the direction of the dungeons. "So what's your name?" The older boy asked curiously as they began to hurry down the corridor; not running or jogging but walking very fast.

"Neville Longbottom." The boy answered a little breathlessly and it was clear he was finding their pace rather taxing. They could not slow down though, they were both late enough as it was.

"Well Neville, I'm Haryon Snape..."

"Oh, I know who you are, everyone does." Neville interrupted him quickly and Harry gave the boy a curious glance which seemed to only embarrass him. "Well, what with the newspaper pictures and the chocolate frog cards"

"Oh yeah, forgot about those. Anyways, you can call me Harry, most people do. It's usually only adults who call me Haryon."

"Why is that?"

"Two syllables are easier to say than three and you know how lazy teenagers are." Harry joked as they two boys entered the dungeons. "Best pay attention to where we're going so you don't get lost again." He advised as they turned a corner.

Neville nodded obediently before dutifully looking around himself. After a few moments of silence passed, the First Year spoke up again. "Is it true your dad is the Potions teacher here?"

"Yep; Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and my father." Harry confirmed with a smile as they reached a closed door and he signaled for his companion to stop. "Just try not to blow up your cauldron and don't act out of line and you'll be fine." And with that piece of advice given, he knocked on the door quickly before lowering his hand to the handle and then waiting for the invitation to enter came.

"Yes?" The deep voice of the professor came through the door and Harry winced lightly at the tone; his father did not sound happy. It was only five minutes into the lesson, surely nothing too bad could have already happened to annoy the man so much? Especially with First Years who would not start doing practical lessons for another few weeks yet. But then Potter was in this class and considering the history Severus had with the boy's father it was quite possible that something had already happened.

Harry carefully opened the classroom door, stepping into the room behind and holding the it open so Neville could follow him in. All eyes were on them, each student obviously curious as to who it was. Severus looked positively murderous from where he was standing in front of the class and Harry would have been un-nerved if it was not for the fact he had seen so much worse. The class was made up of Slytherins and Gryffindors, each split to either side of the classroom which was no surprise.

Keeping his eyes fixed on his father, Harry gave the man a happy smile in an attempt to cheer him up, no matter how minutely. "Sorry to interrupt, I'm just dropping off a lost student." He said politely as he ushered the nervous First Year in and the encouraged him forward to find a seat.

Severus seemed un-interested in the boy, thank goodness, and merely remained silent as this all happened. As Harry watched the Neville find a seat, his eyes caught Ron's. The youngest male Weasley was sitting with Potter on his left and a blond haired boy who was obviously in Gryffindor too. Ron gave Harry a grin and an enthusiastic wave which the older boy answered with a smaller smile and a few wiggles of his fingers.

"You have already disrupted my class enough, please refrain from distracting my students as well." Severus scolded his son in an icy tone, glaring at him making it clear that his ugly temper was still very much in existence.

A few sniggers came from the Slytherins and Harry blushed lightly. "Sorry Sir." He murmured before turning and quietly slipping out of the classroom, making sure to cushion the door as it shut as to cause as little noise as possible before dashing off to try and stop his arrival to his own lesson being too late.

He ran full speed for as long as possible and when he found his legs were turning wobbly, he slowed to a rushed walk, his breathing laboured and his lungs sore. In all, it took him about five minutes to reach the DADA classroom from the dungeons. Considering the fact he had already been on the way to being late when he bumped into Neville, he was now a grand total of fifteen minutes late.

Reaching the classroom door, he knocked on it politely before opening it without waiting for the invitation as it was his own class. Inside, all eyes were turned on the door in curiosity. Professor Quirrel stood at the front of the classroom beside the black board where there was a rather detailed drawing of some kind of little scenario which he must have been explaining before Harry had arrived.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor, I had to help a new First Year find his way to class." Harry explained through his panting breath, half leaning against the door in exhaustion.

"Qu-quite all right." The professor stuttered, his eyes immediately looking away when he saw that it was Harry who had come into the classroom. "Just take your se-seat and we-we'll continue."

Harry released a sigh of relief and slunk into the room, finding the seat which Fred and George had saved for him. They shuffled over a bit to allow him more room and gave him twin smiles in greeting which Harry returned. He settled quickly, organising himself and switching his attention to Quirrel who had already started the lesson again. His breathing was still a little heavy but it was gradually easing back to normal and his lungs no longer felt sore and empty. Feeling eyes on him from over to the side of the classroom, Harry looked over to see that Draco was looking over at him, studying him somewhat critically, probably due to the Harry's flushed cheeks and his manner when he had entered the classroom. Harry just gave the blond a bright though admittedly flustered smile. That seemed to be enough for that moment as Draco returned the gesture with a small smirk before turning back to the front of the classroom.

As Harry inked the quill he would use to take notes, he idly noted to himself that there were not many teachers, and not just in Hogwarts, who would let a fifteen minute late arrival go by without so much as a scolding word.

***************************************************************

7th September 1991: Mid-Morning

"You know, for everything that people say about this subject, so far, it ain't half bad." George mused to his brother and Harry from where they sat at their table near the back of the Divination classroom near the beginning of their first Divination lesson ever.

A faint hum of conversation ran through the class as the students spoke quietly to each other while they drank their cups of tea in preparation for reading each other's tea leaves. Everyone actually seemed to rather enjoying themselves. All except for Harry however, who sat glaring at the cup of tea in his hand as if it had just insulted every member of his family AND the Weasleys AND Gryffindor AND also thrown in that it supported Voldemort just for the hell of it.

"Yeah," Fred agreed with his brother, leaning back lazily in his chair as he took another sip of his milky tea. "Sitting around talking and drinking tea. Throw in some biscuits and this could very quickly become my favourite lesson."

"Even over-taking Potions?" George grinned, partly joking but also partly serious; both of the twins were actually huge fans of Potions but that was with no thanks to the subject's teacher.

"Ah yes, good point. Maybe if it weren't for Professor Snape making the class such a wonderful experience..." Fred joked, suddenly interrupted by explosive coughing from Harry. The two Weasley's turned surprised eyes onto the shorter boy as he quickly put his cup on the table and then brought his hands up to cover his mouth. "It wasn't that funny Harry but thanks anyway."

"I...I'm not...Laughing...You prat." Harry spluttered through his coughs. "I got...A m-mouthful of te-tea leaves." His coughs calmed slightly and he wrinkled his nose in distaste as he tried to spit some of the brown bits back into his cup.

"That's cheating, mate." George pointed out.

"Funny." The dark haired boy coughed out before trying to wipe out some of the leaves out of his mouth with his index finger. It soon became apparent that was not going to work however so him simply gave up, opting instead to pour the rest of his cup of tea into Fred's half finished cup.

"That's cheating too, ya know." Fred smirked and it was that smirk which finally un-did Harry and broke through his sour mood, encouraging a smile from him. "Ah, there's the Harry we all know and love. Sweetest Gryffindor in years."

"People are not still saying that are they?"

"More people than ever." George laughed, obviously finding it all very amusing. "I'm surprised you haven't actually heard someone say it yet; not like people try and hide it anymore."

Harry leaned his elbows forward on the table and rested his chin in the palm of his right hand. "Of all the ways they can compliment me, they have to pick "sweet". It's because of the hair, isn't it? Makes them all think I'm a bloody girl or something."

"I dunno, mate, I think "sweet" is a pretty accurate description of you personally." Fred admitted and was accompanied with George who nodded his head in agreement.

"Traitors."

"It's hardly an insult." George pointed out reasonably.

"And you have got to admit that you are awfully friendly and caring for a boy our age." Fred said calmly, not in the least put out by their friend's attitude.

"Being called sweet isn't a bad thing..."

"...And it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"If we were in your position..."

"...We wouldn't be complaining..."

"...Because we'd be too busy exploiting it."

"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked.

"People like you a lot, Harry, because you're a nice guy. Practically everyone in Gryffindor wouldn't think twice about coming to help you whatever the situation." George answered with a smile.

"You could get a lot of favours done for you by our House mates without them expecting you to do anything in return." Fred added.

"That wouldn't be very fair though."

"And it is exactly because you think like that, that people say you're sweet and would do all of your homework for the rest of the school year with just one word from you." George grinned just before Professor Trelawney began to speak again, effectively drawing their conversation to an end.

***************************************************************

7th September 1991: Midday

Harry walked thoughtlessly through a corridor, on his way to the Great Hall for lunch. Fred and George had already earned themselves a detention which had to be some sort of record even for them. So, he was on his own which he was not too disappointed about; after that conversation about how people saw him as sweet he was not in much of a mood to play around and joke because, quite frankly, he was sulking.

He was a boy. Boys were not sweet and he resented being referred to as such. Okay, so he was kind and usually cheerful and he had nothing against offering to help someone with something if they appeared to need help. That was not being sweet though, that was just being polite! He had no problem with people complimenting him if they wanted to, it made no difference to him, but did they have to use the word sweet? It made him feel so...So bloody feminine. He scowled to himself lightly as he thought that; it was the hair, it must have been.

"Someone's looking less than cheerful." Draco's voice suddenly came from beside him and Harry looked up to see the Slytherin had fallen into step with him at some point. "Knut for your thoughts?" He asked easily though there was a hint of concern in his voice as well.

"Nothing really, I was just thinking about something that happened in Divination this morning." Harry sighed, letting his gaze drop to the floor again.

"Oh yes, you had your first Divination lesson today didn't you?"

Harry nodded with a small hum.

"How was it?"

"Not what I expected. First part of the lesson was drinking tea. That took all of fifteen minutes. Then the rest of the lesson was spent trying to read the bloody leaves at the bottom. I did not look forward to taking Divination for three years to sit staring at the bottom of a tea leafy cup for Merlin knows how long."

"Really Harry, what did you honestly expect then?"

"Certainly not half choking on a mouthful of tea leaves and then staring at a bunch of blotchy patterns that's for sure." The dark haired boy grumbled, glaring down at his shoes. "Havanist divination is far more practical; none of this reading tea leaves rubbish."

"If you stick with it you'll get to do the more interesting stuff; all lessons are like that." Draco pointed out reasonably.

"Hmm." Harry hummed, mostly just to show he was listening rather than actually agreeing.

Draco frowned lightly again. "Is there something else wrong, Harry? You seem a little...Well, out of it. Did you sleep alright last night?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I slept fine last night. I was just thinking about something that Fred and George said to me in lesson today..." Harry trailed off then, as if in thought. Mere seconds later though, he was focused again and he turned his head to look at Draco. "You wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

"Course I wouldn't. Why?"

"Do you think I'm sweet?"

Draco gave him an odd look at that question. "What makes you ask that?"

"Apparently that seems to be the general opinion throughout the entire population of Gryffindor." Harry sighed, his head turning back to look ahead of him as his eyes dropped to the floor. "I just wondered if it was a general opinion or whether I suddenly become a sweet, very likeable person when I'm in the Tower."

"Well, thanks to some brainless Hufflepuff who doesn't know what to do with notes once they've finished with them, I know that there are at least two people in said House who would probably choose the word "sweet" to describe you." Draco told him, sounding partly amused and, strangely, rather annoyed as well.

"Great." Harry muttered, his shoulders slumping.

"I, personally, wouldn't use the word sweet to describe you, though I must admit it does fit you well."

"Oh? How would you describe me then?" The dark haired boy inquired playfully, fully intending for the question to be taken as a joke and for the replying answer to be as much as a joke. However, when a hand came out to wrap around his arm and made him stop and, in response, Harry looked at his best friend, he was slightly startled to see that the blond looked extremely serious. In fact, it was probably one of the most serious expressions he had ever seen on Draco's face. It was more than a little un-nerving.

Time dragged on as the two boys stood in the middle of the corridor and stared at each other, Harry not knowing what to say and Draco seemingly in no rush to answer the previously asked question. Somehow, as if purposely waiting for the exact moment, just when Harry had opened his mouth and was about to finally speak himself, Draco silenced the slightly shorter boy with a small step forward, closing the gap between them considerably. Harry's mouth clicked shut abruptly at that and he looked at the blond in confusion, totally stumped by his weird behaviour. Another second or so of silence and stillness passed again before, finally, the Slytherin closed his eyes and brought his hand up to cup the side of the Gryffindor's neck.

"I would describe you as the most beautiful creature alive, in both body and soul, but merely saying that would do you no justice. There are no words for you, Harry, because all words known to us pale in comparison. To effectively describe you, I would have to create a completely new word filled with the elegance and beauty you possess, a word that rolls off the tongue with such ease and pleasure that it could be whispered in your ear constantly for the rest of eternity. Then, and only then, would there ever be a chance of letting you know just how I feel about you and just how I see you."

That whole declaration had been said in such a hushed tone that it was almost a whisper. Throughout the entire thing, Draco had continued to lean in closer until their cheeks were touching and his pink lips brushed against the shell of Harry's ear as he spoke the words. Harry, for his part, stood completely rigid, un-sure of how he was supposed to act or even of what was really going on. The warmth from Draco's body was nothing he was not already familiar with but there was something about it this time which made his heart race and his stomach do summersaults. Maybe it had something to do with the hand on his neck which seemed to make his entire body tingle despite the fact it was completely still. The warm puffs of breath in his ear made him want to shiver but his muscles were too tightened to allow them to shake his body. And the words, they were words that Harry never, in a million years, expected to come out of the mouth of his life-long best friend and to be directed to him as well.

However, just because all of this was very new and very strange, Harry felt no urge to make it stop and, if he was perfectly honest, it was not too uncomfortable with the situation. A little startled, yes, but for some unknown reason he was very accepting of it, as if it was not out of the ordinary, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Underneath all the confusion and apprehension, there was a strange calm which made everything seem all right again, as if nothing in the world could possibly hurt him as long as he was near the boy who was pressed so very close to him.

When Draco moved away a little, Harry was fully prepared to ask the blond what exactly he had meant with all of that. But, upon seeing his eyes, the breath in his throat caught and he found he could not speak. Since when had Draco's eyes been so bright and hypnotic? And were they not usually a shade of grey instead of the shining silver which seemed to glow in the dimly lit corridor?

"Draco?" Harry whispered carefully, not knowing whether talking was a wise thing to do but feeling the need to say something, anything.

Draco did not reply which Harry was not really that surprised with. However, what did surprise him was when the blond drew closer again but instead of going past his cheek to speak in his ear, he continued straight on. The dark haired boy's eyes widened in a sudden realisation that his best friend of the past thirteen years or so was about to kiss him, right on the lips! They had kissed before but that had not only usually been on Draco's initiation but had also either been on his forehead or his cheek. No one had ever kissed him on the lips before! Well, except for Severus but the man was his father so it hardly counted.

Harry eyes flickered from his friend's descending lips and then up to those eyes quickly. Draco's eyelids were lowered very slightly but some of the shining silver of his irises was still visible and Harry felt his resolve start to slip away. Those eyes were just so captivating, making him feel as if everything was right and just with the world. There was no desire to pull away, he was quite content to let what was about to happen, happen...

"Sirius was right; Snape really is the greasiest, most foul tempered git in the entire world!"

Harry snapped out of his pleasant frame of mind upon hearing those poisonous words from somewhere around him. His head turned to the side and he caught sight of the person it was who had said such hateful things about his father: Johnathan Potter, accompanied by Ron, Neville and two other boys whose names Harry did not know yet. A glare found its way onto Harry's face as he watched the group of First Years continue on his way but he was not planning on actually saying anything to them. The case was obviously different for Draco though.

"Why don't you keep your's and your mutt of a godfather's opinion to yourself, Potter?" The blond called down the corridor to the group of five boys, sounding as annoyed as Harry felt.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Malfoy? I wasn't talking to you." Potter stopped and raised an eyebrow at them. "Why don't you go back to doing whatever it was to Snape that made him turn that bright shade of red?"

It was with that remark that Harry returned to his senses and realised that he and Draco were still in a somewhat intimate position. The Slytherin was still holding his arms and their bodies were very close to each other. Rather hastily, the Third Year Gryffindor stepped away from his best friend, subsequently breaking the contact between them. Unfortunately, that seemed to only make Draco's new bad mood even worse and, although he could not sure, Harry thought he heard the other boy actually growl.

"You ought to watch your tongue, Potter, you are only a First Year after all." Draco called, looking as if he was about to move towards the group of younger boys so Harry quickly latched onto his arm. That seemed to be really affective as the blond's muscles seemed to liquefy and when he turned to look at Harry, his face was a lot more calm though there was still some traces of anger there.

"He's just a stupid kid, Draco, he's not worth anything." Harry assured him, making a point of speaking loud enough for the boy in question to hear.

"Hey, who are you calling stupid, Snape?" Potter called angrily as Ron, who stood beside the shaggy haired boy, desperately trying to make himself disappear.

Hearing that made Draco tense up again but nothing came of it as Harry tugged on his arm a little. "C'mon," he urged in a gentle, soothing voice. "Let's go grab something from the Great Hall and then take a walk, hmm?"

Draco said nothing in reply but did allow himself to be led away, all the while glaring at Potter darkly over his shoulder. Harry was just totally confused by his best friend's odd behaviour but he just put it down to having a bad day. What else could it be after all?

****************************************************************

12th September 1991: Morning

"Ah, Hogwarts has officially begun now that you've managed to wake up in time to get to breakfast." George teased Harry as the he joined them at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for breakfast.

"No thanks to you and Fred." Harry yawned as he plonked himself down next to the twin who had spoken. "Hasn't it ever occurred to either of you to wake me up when you get up?"

"You can't except us to remember to do that." Fred protested.

"Yeah, we're half asleep ourselves." George agreed with his brother.

"And pair that with the fact that during the rest of the year you're usually up well before us..."

"...And you really can't expect us to wake you up if you're still asleep."

Harry looked at the two grinning twins and found himself smiling back at them. "Excuses, excuses." He joked with a small shake of his head.

"Oh, hush up and eat your bacon." Fred ordered playfully as he pushed the platter of sausages and bacon towards him.

Harry said nothing and simply obediently began to fix himself a plate. When it was halfway through dishing himself some scrambled eggs, he became aware of a set of eyes which were drilling into the back of his head. He paused in his scooping and twisted around to look behind himself. It was then that he found Draco staring at him intently, obviously not paying an ounce of attention to Bethany Zabini who was chattering away beside him. Harry gave his best friend a small wave which seemed to please the blond as he gave a small quirk of his lips before looking down at his plate.

Draco's behaviour had been very strange over the past few days. The blond had insisted on spending more time with him than usual, often intentionally seeking Harry out for the soul purpose of spending some time together. Although the almost-kiss had never been attempted again, Draco had been oddly affectionate with him, insisting on greeting him with a hug and a kiss and then on them walking around holding hands or at least with their arms linked. And then there were times like this, where Harry would find Draco staring at him intently before looking away upon getting some acknowledgment, whether it was a smile or a wave. Harry figured it was just a phase the Slytherin was going through, possibly because they had not had much contact over the last month what with him and Lucius being in Austria.

The sounds of flapping wings and owl calls brought Harry out of his thoughts and he looked up to see that the morning post had arrived. It was his turn to write to his childhood friends from Saint Gwenifwar's this week so he was unsurprised that there was no sign of Hedwig amidst the sea of brown. So, as mostly everyone else rested their knives and forks down in preparation to accept their letters and parcels, Harry just carried on eating, glad that he was actually going to be able to fill his stomach before his first lesson of the day for once.

Beside him, Fred and George each caught letters from their family's owl as well as a rolled up copy of the Daily Prophet each. They both immediately cast the newspapers aside, not even sparing them a glance. Harry looked at the papers curiously out of the corner of his eyes, his fork still partly in his mouth, before reaching over and picking one up. He pulled his fork out of his mouth and untied the twine which held the newspaper in a roll as he swallowed his mouthful of food. He unfurled it and his eyes instantly widened upon seeing the headline. As he read the front page, his eyes relaxed again before a light frown formed on his face.

"Something wrong, mate?" Fred asked curiously as he leaned closer to look at the paper.

"No, not really, it's just..." Harry paused for a moment, as if considering something. "It's just that Gringotts was broken in to."

"Wow, someone out there's got a death wish. How much did they get away with?"

"They didn't get anything, the vault they broke into had already been emptied."

"That's all right then." Fred said easily. Harry merely hummed causing Fred to pause and look at him before sighing. "But there's obviously something else wrong."

"No, nothing wrong exactly, it's just...The vault they broke into, number 713, that's the one Hagrid and I went to that day he took me to Diagon Alley and all that was in there was a small parcel, about the size of my fist. There was nothing else in there, just that."

"And?"

Harry remained silent for a few seconds before he shook his head slightly. "Nothing I guess. It's probably just a coincidence." He looked up finally and gave his friend a smile. "Sorry I distracted you."

"Doesn't matter; better to distract me and talk your worries out rather than keeping them to yourself and driving yourself nuts with them." He pointed out before returning to the letter from his mum.

Harry gave a small sigh before glancing down at the paper for a second and then looking up again. It was then that his eyes met with bright hazel ones from across the table. A girl he did not recognise with brown, frizzy hair was watching him carefully and he got the distinct impression that she had heard his entire conversation. For a moment or so they simply stared at each other before the girl gave in first and looked away. It was only then that Harry also looked away too.

With one final glance at the Daily Prophet, Harry returned to his breakfast, pushing away his feelings of doubt and suspicion as he pushed away the newspaper itself.
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Family Means More Than Blood