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Broken Ice	By : merieth Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 1934 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Title:
Broken Ice

Chapter
2: Death is But a Beginning

Rating:
R, just to be on the safe side. Some minor reoccurrences of fcuk. I
have written harder, just none of that stuff is posted anywhere. No,
I’m not embarrassed, not really.

Disclaimer:
You know the drill, cannon characters are not mine. Ones that are
unfamiliar to the basic cannon are mine. Hn, maybe there was an
easier way to say that.

Pairing:
Future DM/HP slash. Right now, just wicked thoughts . Never has been
or never will be HP/GW, they are just on that level beyond. Oh, and
also currently repeated reference to RW/HG: they do not come into the
story for a few chapters.

Summary:
Harry hangs with Ginny. Draco meets his ancestors while 'dead'.
Harry breathes life into Draco.

Author's
Note: I
also have this posted on regular fanfiction.net. Here at
adult-fanfiction.org, I will put only completed chapters. So, the
next chapter will not be posted until it is completely written and
finished over there first.

----+++++++--------=========----

Part
1: Pillow Talk

“Do
you think I should tell them I’m gay?” Harry Potter asked
Ginny Weasley. The said Gryffindors were stretched out over Harry’s
bed. Between the two of them they had transfigured clothes that had
been carelessly discarded onto the floor into more pillows which they
had propped up against the head board.

“Harry,
honey, we’ve just finished painting our toe nails. How they not
figure out some small hint?” Ginny said, not intending an
answer. Indeed they had just finished painting their toenails scarlet
and gold on alternating toes and were currently letting them dry.

Ginny
had purchased the colors the last time they went into Muggle London.
Actually her father had to talk to the Muggle prime minister that day
and the two of them spent the day about. One of the things Minister
of Magic Arthur Weasley ( A/N what can I say, I'm a promoter;) had
been promoting was a beginning of a cooperation between wizards and
Muggles. Arthur always liked to say, if things got really bad, it’s
good to have some contingency plan. Within a month of the new school
year starting, a decision was made by the High Wizengamont to promote
a beginning of some level of understanding without expressing their
true numbers or strength. The Muggle prime minister had only had
contact with Arthur and about four others.

Harry
had joined Ginny on that trip and the two went on a shopping spree.
Between the two of them, about a hundred Galleons was spent, with
Harry paying the bill. He saw it as a birthday present to himself,
after all, he was now seventeen. Money was well spent on birthday
gifts for the year, school supplies, Christmas, and maybe an
additional bribe for Ron and Hermione. Included, however, was a
silver serpent necklace that he always wore around his neck and
secretly hoped he would be able to pass onto a certain Slytherin.

The
Boy-Who-Lived flexed his toes. Next to him, Ginny’s smaller
ones copied the movement.

“Sometimes
I think that people won’t accept me for who I have become.”
Harry paused and turned slightly to the girl next to him. “They
still expect me to be their hero. It’s like I’m the big
strong man who's expected to protect the innocent. I just want to
live my life.”

Ginny
placed a hand upon his. “I thought our friendship has taught
you that whatever happens, I’ll be there with you. As will
Hermione and Ron, once he finishes pulling his own head out of his
ass.”

Harry
couldn’t resist his upper lip from curling in amusement, but
the moment was short.

“You
don’t need to live up to any ones expectations but your own.
Besides,” she gave the tiniest of shrugs, “with the
events of last summer, you are no longer the trump card. Voldermort,”
she stressed his name, “is dead.”

“As
are a lot of other people,” Harry spoke so softly that Ginny
almost didn’t catch it. “I should have done something to
prevent Ron and Hermione from going,” he finished in a low
tone.

“There
was nothing you could have done. They made their own decisions,”
Ginny spoke a wisdom beyond her years.

“But
the blame was on me,” Harry said, lowering his stare to his
freshly painted nails.

Ginny
moved in the bed so she sat next to him and proceeded to fold her
sleep panted legs underneath her. She had dealt with this Harry
before, many times. Especially when Ron and Hermione were not there.

“Harry
Potter,” she said in her most serious commanding voice, “look
at me.” She took a hold of his face and turned it toward
herself. Harry looked up at her. “You are not responsible for
any of those deaths, including of Dumbledore’s.” Her face
was serious.

“Say
it with me Harry, I am not responsible,” she said low and
clear, staring him straight into the eye.

“I
am not responsible” Harry spoke.

“I
am my own person.”

“I
am my own person.”

“And
I shall fuck who ever I want to.”

“And
I will fuck who ever the fuck I want to fuck,” Harry shouted
out. Thankfully no one else was in the room. The barest of smiles
graced his lips.

“Watch
your language, Mr. Potter,” Ginny said sounding a lot like her
mother reprimanding the twins.

Harry
managed to look indignant. “You said it first,” he
pouted, sticking his bottom lip out and giving her the look.

Her
lips curved upward. “So I did.”

“Language,
Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said back. This time a full smile crossed
his lips and eyes. “Thanks, Gin” he said and patted her
on the arm.

Ginny
settled back down against the mattress. This time, however, she
settled on to her stomach while clutching a pillow. Her legs extended
would reach over the foot board, so she occasionally scissor kicked
them in the air.

“So,
do you think I should tell them?” He asked again. He reached
out and patted her on the head as if she were his canine companion.

“That’s
up to you,” Ginny said. “Maybe if you knew their feelings
on the issue before you opened up.” She paused. “How
would they respond?” She looked up at him. “My brother is
quite hot headed.”

“My
jaw remembers,” Harry reached up and rubbed the left side very
softly.

“He
was still thinking he could make my own decisions for me. My next
oldest brother, and your once best friend, punched you in the jaw
warning you to stay away from me.”

It
had happened right toward the end of last school year, Harry had been
an emotional wreck.

“My
friends were not there for me when I needed them,” his voice
lowered.

Ginny
reached over and patted his flannel covered knee to bring him out of
a funk before he fell into another one.

Harry
gave that small brief smile to her. “This year has been so
stressed between the three of us. Hermione has been the linking force
between the two of us.” The green eyed boy gestured wildly for
a moment before drawing a knee to himself and resting a hand onto it.
“I’m surprised that he has not accused me of trying to
steal his girlfriend,” he sighed.

“Maybe
it is a sign of things going back to the way they were,” Ginny
said, kicking her legs into the air. “I like to think that my
older brother will be accepting that you desire men.”

“But
he may not be so accepting that the boy I desire had been our worst
enemy for five years straight,” Harry finished and used his
hands again to gesture wildly with the pun on straight.

Ginny
snickered lightly.

“To
me, he has proven himself over the last months that he is nothing
truly like his father.” He lowered his leg and steepled (A/N
Forgive me, but I’m not sure if that’s a word, but I
don’t know what else to call it) his other. “Without his
father to dictate his life, he’s a new man.” His eyes met
Ginny’s.

“Paying
attention much I see, Mr. Potter,” Ginny let her lips turn up
in a smirk, not trademarked. She rolled onto her back next to him so
she could tilt her head and look at him. “Classes with
Slytherin are a lot more pleasant, I take it.”

He
dipped his head a little, “Aside from the fact the only
Slytherins this year are him and that Nott fellow.”

Ginny
smiled that knowing smile.

“He
is in only a few of my classes. Advanced DADA, Advanced Potions, and
Advanced Transfiguration,” Harry said as he pushed his glasses
back up his nose.

“Don’t
forget Muggle Studies,” Ginny reminded him. Starting this past
school year, as part of that understanding between wizards and
Muggles, all years third and up were required to take Muggle Studies.

Harry
nodded his assent. For the briefest moment, he smiled in memory of a
previous class where the two Slytherins played a newly learned Poker
game with the Gryffindors.

“While
I imagine myself being accepted into Auror training,” he
continued and left that memory behind, “or maybe playing
professional Quidditch, I can’t imagine what study he will be
heading into.”

“Try
potions,” Ginny supplied. “To be a Potions Master.”

“That
is the answer that everyone else would give in relation to his
future.” Harry wiggled his toes again. “I’ve always
wondered what kind of future he sees for himself.” His green
eyes unfocused and he got a funny look that spread across his entire
features. “A future I want to be a part of.” He spoke
loud and clear with no mistake or no wavering.

Ginny
rolled again, this time onto her side with one of her legs onto
Harry’s. “Great potential,” was all Ginny
cryptically muttered. “One instance I can think of suggests
that there is a future between you two. He seemed very interested
last year.” She waggled her eyes at him.

“The
snowball fight,” Harry remembered fondly.

“No
accident from my point of view,” Ginny sing-songed.

“Landed
right on top of me, he did.” Harry’s face lit up.
“Knocked my glasses askew and I was able to feel his hot breath
on my face. It was as if his eyes looked deep into my soul. His
weight pressed down onto mine and for a moment, I felt anything but
trapped.” A blush creeps across his face. “It was the
most intimate moment I’ve ever shared.” He moved and
stroked her red hair and some of the feeling lessened. “And
then Ron pulled him off me and the expected insults flew.” He
sighed. “If only things had been different last year, we could
have dated.” Harry’s face suddenly fell as memories
started their terrible film in his head. “But things turned out
different.”

Ginny
reached up and flicked his nose to bring him out of his moment. Harry
retaliated by pulling on her hair.

“Thanks
Ginny,” Harry said, smiling in thanks. “So, I was
thinking of making it my New Year’s Resolution to pursue that
course of action.”

“New
Years what?” Ginny asked.

“Muggle
term. It’s a promise made on December 31st at 11:59 pm for the
new year. It could be seen as something wanted to accomplish. For a
better definition, it’s in the Muggle Studies text.”

The
red head laughed. “How very Hermionish of you, Mr. Potter.”

“After
all, NEWTS is in about five months, never to early to be ahead.”
Harry spoke in his most Hermione voice. “I’m so surprised
that Hermione even took the time to go skiing in Switzerland. I
imagine Ron’s having a blast.”

“It
was about time they started dating,” Ginny said.

Harry
nodded. “Ron’s face just lights up whenever she is in the
room,” Harry said. “She’ll keep him in line.”

“Especially
if he has some problem with your choice in crushes,” Ginny
added.

“Ginny,”
he squealed before covering his mouth upon realizing that he had been
doing it. “Oh, now look at me, I sound like I’ve got some
school crush.”

“Or
more like Colin Creevy when he gets you in a more spectacular pose,”
Ginny interjected. “Like those pictures he got five Galleons
for,” she mumbled very lowly.

Harry
chose not to comment on that first part, but the second mumbling, he
chose to pretend not to have heard at all. He pushed her away from
him. “Am I still even sure he still has in interest?”

“Don’t
be so daft,” the youngest Weasley said, while moving to sit
next to him in a crossed leg position. “It is rather hard to
miss how he always searches you out in the Great Hall. We both know
that those occasional snide remarks are just to get a rise out of
you.”

Harry
muttered, “Not the kind of rise I was hoping for.”

Ginny
gave a brilliant smile; she had heard him. “Just last week,”
she continued, “when the houses were decorating the trees, it
was hard to miss him watching you.” Ginny picked up a pillow
and hugged it to her chest. “In fact, I distinctly remember
hearing him say that he was glad to have some real competition in
Quidditch.”

“When
did he say that?” Harry asked, casting her a look.

Smiling
triumphantly, Ginny took the pillow and hit him on the chest.

“When
Gryffindor played Ravenclaw, the first practice match. He said it out
loud, but I don’t think he intended any one to hear it, much
less me.”

The
Boy-Who-Lived sat up across from her in a similar fashion. “Yeah,
I’ve always one upped him in that sense, except for 5th year
and those last couple games in 6th year.”

“If
I didn’t know any better, I’d take that as a sign that he
shows an interest.”

Harry
blushed, seriously blushed.

Ginny
laughed. “You’re cute, Mr. Potter.”

“Too
bad I’m gay then.” Harry laughed and let what emotion he
held out. The two of them sat there in a comfortable silence for a
few minutes.

“Let’s
go for a walk by the lake before dinner,” he abruptly said,
swinging his legs around to the edge to stand. “There we can
talk some more.” He reached out a hand to the red head.

Ginny
took it and together they stood at the side. “I am hardly
dressed for the cold.” She gestured to her sleep pants and
white top.

Pulling
out his time piece that he always kept nearby, after all, it had been
a gift from Dumbledore, he examined the time. It’s just after
2. “How about we meet back in the Common Room in 10 minutes and
then we go.”

“Ten
minutes to get ready?” Ginny said, holding a hand up to her
mouth in mock theatrics.

“Ten
minutes,” he said walking her to the door. “Be there.”
He then proceeded to push her out the door.

“Ten
minutes,” Ginny called back and moved down the stairs.

“Is
there an echo in here?” Harry called out to her retreating
back.

---------------------------

Part
2: Heir to the Malfoy
name, power and prestige.

“Draco,”
a guy’s voice spoke softly.

Draco
Malfoy felt a warmth upon his face that caused the blond to shift his
face away from it. The warmth spread across his entire body as if
enveloping him in a snug blanket.

“Draco,”
the man said again.

This
time a strong hand grasped Draco’s cheek. The other hand then
pushed back the hair on the young blonds forehead. A moment later,
the same hand raised and let a slap fall across that cheek. “Damnit
boy!”

Awareness
came back to the young Malfoy as his eyes shot open to the face of an
unknown man.

“Wake
up!” The man said as he drew back that hand again to strike
that cheek a second time.

“If
you want to keep that hand sir, I suggest you do not do it.”
Draco’s eyes narrowed with threat at the man kneeling above
him. Blinking a few times to clear his orientation, Draco looked more
closely at the man above him. Black hair, but the same Malfoy nose on
that face.

“There’s
that Malfoy arrogance that comes with the name.” The other man
smirked while lowering his hand.

“Who
the fuck are you?” Draco asked as he again stared at the man,
however odd the angle might be.

“And
such language from our youth,” the other man tsked softly.

Using
his hands and arms, he managed to brace himself up into a sitting
position. He looked around trying to figure out where he was at. In
the nearby distance Draco saw something he didn‘t believe. It
was Malfoy Manor! But these grounds he did not recognize. On this
side of the manor, instead of a garden that he had helped his mother
plant, there was a courtyard with a small pond by which he was
currently sitting next to.

“What?”
Draco questioned more to himself than to the man beside him. Pulling
his legs up, he sat more comfortable. The pond next to him sparkled
blue and reflected the sunlight. Above him the sun shone in a bright
ball in blue skies. No cool British breeze, just solid warmth that
did not make him sweat.

“How
did I get to the Manor? Last I remember I was at Hogwarts. It was
most defiantly winter. The manor never looked like this. I have no
memory of it.” Draco rambled until the other guy placed a hand
in front of him.

“Malfoy’s
do Not ramble!” The other guy affronted the younger man. “And
it is not your memory, it is mine.”

Draco’s
eyes said what jaw dropping would have accomplished.

“You
see, Draco Malfoy, you are no longer among the living.” The
other man reached out and stroked a hand across the Malfoy’s
cheek.

Draco
felt the warmth of the touch and jerked back, but managed to
simultaneously faint backwards onto the ground.

“What
type of generation is this?” The man exclaimed out loud,
throwing his hands up into the air. The young man was once again
laying on the ground.

After
several seconds of watching the young Malfoy heir, the raven haired
man stood up and walked over to the pond. Pulling on his panted legs,
he kneeled down and dipped his fingers into the water. After swirling
it for a few seconds, he moved back up to the young blond on the
ground and flicked the water onto his face.

Two
grey eyes shot open, and a single word was upon his lips, “Frozen.”
His whole body shivered in memory. But after a moment, he felt the
warmth upon his body and face. Tilting his face toward the sky he
breathed deeply.

“What
happened to the old code of Malfoy’s never fainting?” The
raven haired man mumbled more to himself than to Draco. He moved to
stand above the young Malfoy.

“In
times of dire circumstance, Malfoy’s have been known to exhibit
behavior less known to their kind.” Draco maneuvered himself
back into a sitting position, this time with his legs crossed under
him.

The
other man arched his eyebrows in a very Malfoy manner (A/N fine, I
dropped the manor spelling.). “Death is a dire circumstance,”
he quipped.

“Never
expected it, always so careful I was,” Draco mumbled.

“Ah
yes. Ever since your aunt’s boys taught you to,” he
paused for a second, “ice skate, I believe the term is for it,
you’ve been skating around Christmas. But mustn’t let
dear old daddy find out. Some part of you still feared that he would
beat the Muggle tendency out of you.” The other man accurately
spoke.

“How
do you know about that?” Draco’s eyes narrowed at him,
not betraying the feelings he felt inside. Somehow, Draco knew the
answer to the question.

“I
am dead.” He accentuated with his hands each sentence. “I
know all. I see all. With each passing generation, I watch from
above.”

“An
angel?” Draco quietly asked.

The
raven haired man snorted loudly. “Hardly angelic.” A
smile crossed his lips. “I am just an observer of my family.”
The other man dropped to be sitting next to Draco.

“Family?
Then where’s the blond hair?” Draco sneered. Outside of
his cousins, the only Malfoy’s he knew were blonds. All of the
hanging pictures in the manor that he knew of had blond hair.

“This
dark as raven hair color comes from my grandmothers side,” he
said while running a hand through his hair and pulled on it for the
young man to see. “Besides, your father hid away those
portraits.”

Once
again, Draco’s eyes went wide. That hair was a shade that he
had seen many past days.

“My
grandmother was one Elizabeth Potter,” he used his hand to
sweep it around in a very Malfoy manner, one that Draco had seen his
father use.

Draco
snickered lightly.

The
other Malfoy shot him a look. “The Potters were an old
prestigious family. After all, all the pureblood families are
interrelated somewhere along the line. It was back when the Potters
were highly regarded, less than two hundred years ago. Now the lines
are shrinking and purebloods are intermarrying with other purebloods
too close to their own line and causing birth defects including
squibs.”

“So
then mine and Harry Potter’s genes are not that far off in the
scheme of things,” Draco exhaled. “My father has been
going off on someone who is genetically our cousin.”

“Not
that close,” the other man said. “Elizabeth’s
youngest brother is the descent line directly to Harry Potter.”

“Always
knew my father was a fool,” Draco mumbled off.

“Lucius
Malfoy’s my grandson,” the other man sneered. “He
had not gained those power hungry ambitions from his father. In my
day, and the way Lucius was raised, Malfoys did not need to prove
themselves to anyone, not even their own parents. It was an unspoken
thing that family would be there for each other and no matter what
happened, family was the connection. Lucius felt he needed someone’s
approval, and that someone turned out the be the worst kind of man.
My son, Lucien, raised your father , gave him the family life only
worthy of a Malfoy. And what does Lucius do?” that last
sentence mumbled off; Draco did not hear it.

“I
never knew my grandfather, Lucien Malfoy,” Draco said, reciting
his version of what his father had told him. “He and my
grandmother died when I was very young.”

Now
the other man snorted, “That’s what your father told you,
indeed.” Anger rose in the other Malfoy’s eyes. “Lucius
Malfoy killed both of his parents within days after joining with that
bastard. It was not a nice death, as his blood had resisted many
attempts to be killed. Malfoy's have long life spans.” His
voice broke for a moment before letting anger into his words.
“Lucius Malfoy killed my son!” The elder Malfoy slammed
his hand into a nearby tree.

Draco
took in what his ancestor was saying, quietly making little mental
notes on certain points to talk about later. Listening to his
ancestor, the Malfoy heir felt his blood bubble. He had not been
privy to such information about his family. “Damned fool
following another’s damned foolish teaching.”

“Twisted
and manipulated by trash,” the elder spat out.

“Yes,
it is rather unlucky that all my inheritance would be prevalent in
someone who was so mentally unstable,” a new voice chorused
from behind the tree.

Moving
to the left, the new figure revealed himself. Black robes, open at
the chest, that connected down the front with buttons and no shoes.
Crossing his arms, the stranger leaned back against the tree. Blond
hair cascaded over his shoulders, and with a simple flick of his
head, the hair was behind his shoulder. His posture was that of
relaxed, but the look upon his face spoke volumes of anger. He had a
smooth, youthful face not hardened by any lines. Beautiful green eyes
the same color as the grass, but with yellow around the irises. And
pale skin.

Draco
watched as the elder Malfoy sprung up and quickly dropped to his
knees in front of the new arrival.

“Damn
it Corbin Malfoy, I hate it when people do that.” The blond
kicked off from the tree and dropped to his knees inches away from
the Malfoy elder. The new arrival placed his right palm over the
heart of Corbin Malfoy. It was an old secret sign that only a handful
of people have known through the millennia. “And as the most
recent generation to have the privilege, you should consider yourself
no less than my equal.”

The
new arrival pulled the other Malfoy into a hug. “I have been
watching since the young dragon arrived.” He gestured over to
Draco. “He did not even know your name until I just spoke it.”

Corbin
felt a light tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks. The two men held
out a hand to pull the young Malfoy up.

Draco
was pulled into a standing position and he observed the two men.

“Forgive
me, Draco,” Corbin said. “I am called Corbin Malfoy, born
to Perciles and Claudia, the oldest of six children, and the last
generation to bear the mark.” Reaching over to the newest
arrival, Corbin tugged a little on the black robe to reveal a small
black symbol over his heart, and then tugged on his own cloth to
reveal a duplicate mark. “I was born late last century.”
He ran a hand through his own hair. He did not want to reveal much at
this moment. Turning back to Draco, he continued, “I am your
great grandfather.”

Once
again, Draco buried into his thoughts this conversation and must
remember to ask about it later. Letting a smile that he need not have
forced grace his lips, Draco embraced the other man. “Now I see
how you knew of the Malfoy traditions.”

“Every
one held dear to my heart except this pureblood shit that your father
is so righteous in believing,” Corbin scoffed. “That’s
something your father chose to embrace.”

“Manipulations
of my followings,” the other man barked.

“And
may I present to you, Draco Malfoy,” Corbin took the hand of
the youth and placed it into the hand of the new arrival. “The
most noble Salaazar Slytherin.”

Draco
felt his eyes and mouth widen.

“Surprised?”
Corbin quipped. “You were right. You are a descendant of
Slytherin and much more of a desirable heir to the Slytherin name and
power.”

Still
holding Slytherin’s hand, Draco felt all words leave his head
as he just stared wide eyes at the legendary Salaazar Slytherin.

-------------========------------

Part
3: Not the Only Couple

Harry
Potter impatiently tapped his foot. The fire in the common room was
starting to make him uncomfortable and someone had in the short time
he was gone, enchanted stuffed animals to sing carols badly. Sitting
in the same chair as before, he pulled out the pocket watch he had
received from Dumbledore, he examined the time. Ginny was now
officially late.

“Ruddy
women always late,” Harry mumbled while slipping the pocket
watch back into his pocket. He had dressed into his outdoor clothes
in under five minutes and came out here to sit and wait. And wait.
And wait. Actually, he had just pulled on a pair of jeans over his
flannel pants and a pair of thicker socks warmed his feet in the snow
shoes. Under his shirt for the Chuddley Cannons, he'd put on a
thermal long sleeve. Over that was a pullover for this band, Templar
Nights, and a black trench coat that he left open. On his lap were
fur lined dragon hide gloves, his snow cap; his wand rested on the
arm of the chair. Plus he had taken the time to run a brush through
his hair.

After
batting with his hand this hippogriff that was annoying him, he
slipped off his glasses and used his wand to clean his glasses and
cast a charm which prevented them from steaming up.

“Just
so cute without your glasses,” Ginny said as she strolled over
to his chair and leaned in to ruffle his hair.

He
shifted out of her reach and slipped his glasses back on. “Ten
minutes,” he sing songed.

“Ten
minutes to get ready? Are you insane?” Ginny smiled brightly.
She had slipped on long black skirt with black and red tights
underneath, black knee high snow boots, a white shirt just visible
under a light red jumper, and a black trench coat similar to Harry's.
Her hair was pulled back into a tail and her Gryffindor muffler was
just loosely strung around her neck. A navy blue snow cap and
matching mittens were in her left hand.

Stuffing
her mittens in her inner pocket next to her wand, she reached out her
right hand to pull her friend up.

Harry
accepted her hand and stood. He stuffed his gloves and hand into his
inner pocket and pushed his wand up his sleeve.

“I
was just starting to sweat” Harry said to the younger red
head.

Said
red head stifled a smile and slipped into place next to him as they
exited through the portrait. The duet strode down the stair cases
before they moved. At the foot of the stairs were the fellow Seventh
years Seamus Finnigan and his boy friend, and one of the few
graduating Ravenclaws, Anthony Goldstein. Goldstein had not gone
when the summons had spread. In his words, he wanted to live free,
and not as a boot liker. Maybe some would have called him a traitor
if that battle had gone differently. Said Gryffindor and Ravenclaw
were currently embraced with the slightly shorter Finnigan nuzzling
slightly taller Goldstein.

The
Ravenclaw gave Finnigan a nudge and motioned with his head towards
the duet coming down the stairs. A satisfied Seamus looked toward
the duet. Goldstein gave a nod in their direction and made eye
contact with each of them. After a whisper toward his bf, he spun
himself in his bf arms so his back was pressed into Anthony's.
Seamus reached out his hand to Harry in a very Muggle fashion.

Harry
reached out and grasped the offered hand. “Seamus, Goldstein,”
he offered in greeting.

Seamus
let go and raised a hand in welcome to Ginny, who mumbled an
“Afternoon,” in greeting, lightly grasping the hand.
Goldstein wrapped his arms around Seamus's waist in possession.

Ginny
and Harry shared a look, both their trains of thought lingered in the
same direction.

“Rather
nice to be able to do that without everyone breathing down your
neck,” Harry commented to the two of them.

“Nice
to have less people around, less chance of getting caught for doing
naughty things.” Seamus replied while interlocking his hand
with the one around his waist. Nearby, a painting sneezed.

Ginny
went as far as to waggle her eyebrows at the pair.

“So
how long have the two of you been going out, again?” Ginny
asked, slipping next to them, to look at their reflections in the
frosty glass window.

“Seven
months,” Goldstein quietly answered.

“Ever
since Ireland played England during the summer,” Seamus
supplied by finishing the thought.

“Amazing
that in the entire crowd, we found each other,” Goldstein
continued.

“And
I lost a bet, so I went out on a date with him,” Seamus
chuckled.

“The
bugger just got under my skin,” Goldstein leaned down slightly
and nibbled at his ear.

Seamus
scrunched his nose in response, letting a little giggle escape his
lips. “And now you wouldn't have it any other way.” He
turned slightly and the pair shared a brushing of lips and nose.

Ginny
snickered slightly to herself over their antics while making a glance
over at her partner. Something seemed to register in Harry's eyes.
Maybe it was longing. Maybe it was hope.

“Where
the two of you off to?” Seamus inquired, successfully bringing
Ginny's attention back to the pair.

Harry
did not fail to notice that both boys scanned him from head to toe,
neither did Ginny. “Out for a walk before dinner” he
answered.

“It's
ruddy cold out there” Goldstein said, pulling his bf closer.

“We're
ready for the freezing,” Ginny said gesturing slightly with
her hands, calling attention more to Harry than herself.

“We've
noticed,” Seamus whispered. “If you want to warm up
later, we'll be in my bed before dinner.” Seamus gave a wink,
while Goldstein gave a slow sultry smile from his spot next to his
bf.

Harry,
in all his cuteness blushed and started to sputter and Ginny quickly
came to his supposed rescue.

“Maybe
we can schedule that in” Ginny said straight faced looking at
her friend.

Harry
blushed harder under their gaze, but he stopped sputtering.

This
time Ginny fully came to his rescue. “Harry and I must be on
out way now, boys.” Ginny raised a hand out to Harry and
pulled on his hand. “See you two later, Seamus, Anthony.”
She started to walk away, with Harry in tow.

“Later
guys,” Harry intoned as he was pulled by them and gave a short
wave with his free hand as Ginny pulled him off.

Both
boys gave a laugh as the duet exited the staircase and into the main
hall. Goldstein moved Seamus a little and gestured with their joined
hands up the stairs. Up they went.

Ginny
finally let go of Harry's hand as they entered the Great Hall.
Venturing a look over at her friend, she was relieved that Harry now
had this wordless grin across his face.

They
continued walking. Both knew their next words would be shared in the
imagined privacy of the outside.

Moments
later, they reached the exit. They stopped to put on the last of the
outdoor gear and snapped up their trench coats. Finally without a
word, they gave a nod to each other and Harry pushed open the door.

The
first thing Harry felt was the icy touch upon his cheek. He held the
door open for Ginny, who slipped through. Harry followed and closed
the door.

After
a moment of looking about, Ginny finally spoke. “I think they
were serious.” The red head linked her arm into Harry's.

Once
again, the Boy who Lived's cheeks were red, not only from the cold,
but from embarrassment. “I Can't believe you'd imply that I
would enjoy such attention from the only full and out couple in the
school.”

As
the two walked on, Ginny had to laugh. “Honey, I know your
little sex fantasies extend beyond one blond Slytherin Prince.”

“Right,
it's bad enough I got the Malfoy virus. But even worse, I got the
gay disease. Watch out Ginny, I'll sneeze on you and spread the gay
boy hormones onto you.”

Ginny
reached out a hand and lightly hit the other Gryffindor on the
intertwined arm. “I fully recognize my position as being
permanently in your life as long as we live.”

Harry
rolled his eyes as he trudged on through the snow. “Like I'd
ever get rid of you. You've become a permanent fixture, don't worry.
You saved me from loosing myself.” He smiled.

“Just
know that I'll be there for every Christmas to annoy the partner and
watch the children,” Ginny joyfully intoned.

“I
admit that I want kids in the future, and a career, and someone I can
snuggle up to.” Harry stopped and Ginny stopped with him.
“Doors open everywhere now that I'm finishing schooling, and
what am I going to do with this life?”

Ginny
touched a mitten hand to Harry's cheek. “How many times must
we have this conversation? Your future is your own. Your destiny is
your own. I'll say it again and again until you get it through your
thick skull!” Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck.

“It's
the scar, it's a block against self confidence and hope for the
future,” he said as he hugged her back. “I will always
have it and it's a part of who I am.” For the first time, he
looked down over Ginny's shoulder.

“Foot
Prints,” Harry whispered to no one in particular.

“Probably
our own,” Ginny said turning slightly and letting one arm
fall. She also looked down, spotting them in the snow.

“Ours
should be only to here, leading away from the castle.” He
glanced back at the castle above them and then forward, unable to see
past these trees and hillside.

“Let's
follow them, at least we can surmise that there is a safe path down
to the lake.” Ginny suggested.

“Can't
see if any one is down there, trees are blocking it.” He felt
a cold wind rush his exposed skin and in a flutter he continued,
“We'll use the tracks to go down to the lake as far as they can
take us.” Rolling his shoulders, Ginny's arm slipped off his
shoulder.

“Sudden
chill?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah,
I wasn't cold, then suddenly it penetrated my very bones.” His
green eyes met Ginny's. “Let's continue our walk down.”
He reached out and arm and the red head took it and continued their
walk.

---------------=========---------

Part
4: Heir to the Snake

“I
could have inherited that power and have been the Dark Lord?”
Draco finally said when words returned to him. Looking directly into
the eyes of Slytherin, he saw someone more akin to himself than what
the Chocolate Frogs showed. After a second, Draco felt himself
laughing. “You don't look anything like I pictured you.”

“That's
the funny thing about a thousand year's passing, young dragon,”
the ancient said, “that image of me is a modern day creation.
DO you think people would have been fearful of me if I looked so
young and gorgeous to them?” He paused for a second and sighed.
“But I got old and they created an image from the old me to be
fearful of.”

Finally
releasing the ancients' arm, Draco shook his head. “No, I
suppose not.” Looking from his two ancestors back to the manor
in the distance, the thought about being the Dark Lord surfaced again
quickly in his head.

From
the thoughtful look on Draco's face, the other two guessed what he
was thinking about. It was Slytherin that finally spoke, “It
would have been your decision to make, Draco Malfoy.”

“You
could say that whatever was in your heart and head would have shaped
your future as a great wizard or as a dark lord” Corbin
continued.

“But
doesn't that apply to anyone?” Draco dropped his eyes and
raised his hand to push back some loose hairs. “Power does not
make one great,” he found himself quoting another famous
wizard, “it's how you use that power that makes one great. I
have no doubt in my ability to do magic and I know my own strengths.”
He brought his eyes back up to meet Slytherin's, “Since my
start at Hogwarts, my attitude toward my father has shifted. I like
to think that I've grown from that first year who cried to daddy over
anything that went wrong, into an adult capable of making my own
choice and following my own path.”

The
two elders shared a similar private smile. Corbin took a step closer
to Draco. “Lucius Malfoy was raised more by Tom Riddle than by
my son. He ignored his family and was mesmerized by Tom Riddle's
words. Riddle was angry at the world, angry at the hand he had been
dealt; this power he was born with just corrupted him more. Lucius
found himself wanting the approval of Riddle than of my son.”

“If
you had that choice and the power, Draco Malfoy, would you have been
a dark lord?” the most ancient and noble Slytherin said.

Draco
remembered his father never being there when he grew up. He
remembered clamoring for his attention. “Wouldn't my
childhood have been different if Tom Riddle had never existed? My
father would have been there for me and I would have had that loving
family” he found himself grimacing slightly as red hair popped
into his mind, but shook it off just as quickly.

He
went silent again as thoughts turned in his head. After a moment, he
mumbled, “Would I go dark?” He then focused again on his
two ancestors. Slytherin's hair matched his own blond, but the nose
was sharper, and the eyes were the same cool gray. The ancient had
his hands now clasped behind his back and those eyes focused on Draco
with no judgment in them, just plain curiosity.

Corbin's
hair was also long, and Draco now noted that the raven hair was in a
braid down his back. His face clean shaven, but the eyes were green
that sparkled with gold. A small freckle was prevalent under
Corbin's nose and Draco noted that his pale arms were dotted with
brown freckles.

Averting
his eyes, Draco finally spoke: “As I am now, I would not.”
He sat down right where he stood and his two ancestors sat down on
rocks that had magically appeared. “While the lure of such
power draws me in, I think of all the pain and suffering that bastard
has caused. With my father not being seduced by the dark bastard, I
would have had a very different childhood. No nights of crying in
bed. No bruises on my fingers when I did something wrong.” He
stopped again and looked over at the manor in the distance. Longing
filled his eyes as he thought of growing up with a grandfather and
all the fun grandparents are. Though questions about his family past
looped through his head, he banished them with a shake of his head.

“I
wouldn't want any kid to grow up without a father, or parents to love
them. Mine weren't the best and my father fully expected me to
follow in his footsteps.” His voice lowered, “Part of me
is glad he is in that coma, and part of me is angry that he will not
be a part of my life.”

“What
would you have done with the power, young dragon?” His great
grandfather asked him.

“We
know of Tom Riddle's ascent into power,” the ancient started.
“His influence over people and the ability to control them was
his number one asset. I could tell you of how many people joined him
of their own free will. That nonsense about using the Imperius Charm
on people to control them was merely their defense against court.
Those that renounced the old ways by claiming Imperius Charm were
dealt with harshly when he returned to power,” Slytherin
finished.

“I
don't know if I am the mentor type, but fame and glory sounds nice.”
Draco found himself smiling a little.

“Careful,
the desire for fame could lead you astray,” Corbin said.

“Power
has many outlets,” the elder blond started. “There are
many pathways between black and white, good and evil. Sometimes they
are not so clear.”

“It
all returns to personal choice then,” Draco said.

“A
great philosopher once said that even our inactions cause a great
reaction to the world around us,” Corbin said.

Draco
gave him a look.

“Malfoy's
should be educated in all arts, including philosophy and the
literature classics,” Corbin defended his answer. “I
even trained my children in muggle literature like the learnings of
Shakespeare and Dickens. The matters of the heart and class struggle
are universal, young dragon.”

Draco
found himself scoffing.

“You
would not scoff if you read these works,” Corbin said.

“Even
to my students a thousand years ago I preached of understanding the
Muggles. My reasoning may not have been for perfect harmony as
Godric may have wanted, but as my later students would interpret it,
they cannot deny the need for knowing the enemy. In matters of the
heart and mind, they are our equals.” Slytherin found himself
rising to his feet with his words. Turning his back on Draco, he
muttered softly, “You have only just begun to familiarize
yourself with the matters of the heart.”

Draco
did not hear these last words. He was amazed that Salazar Slytherin
himself would speak so highly of that which he had been taught were
lesser than him.

“Muggles
might surprise you,” Corbin muttered.

“People
in general might surprise you,” a new voice said from his
position kneeling by the lake, looking at his own reflection.

Draco
noted the strange carvings on the back of the new arrival. While they
could be described as tattoos, they were more like permanent
etchings on his skin that could never heal.

After
a moment, the stranger turned around and Draco found himself looking
onto a handsome male with an aristocratic face framed by black wind
blown shoulder length hair. His gray eyes matched a depth of his
own. No cloth covered his chest either, and Draco noted more
carvings on his chest, including what he recognized as protection
runes. He simply wore a pair of Muggle jeans.

“Why
do you keep those markings? This is heaven and you could choose your
body to be from whatever stage of life you wanted.” A note in
Corbin's voice sounded chastising.

“These
marks remind me of what I had sworn to protect and what I had loved.”
The stranger ran his fingers over a rune for love prominently
displayed across his chest. He looked back into the eyes of Draco
Malfoy.

Gray
met gray again as the stranger stood and moved a step closer to
Draco. As he did, Draco felt himself doing a mental backup. The
words of his ancestors had reminded him of something he had almost
forgotten.

“Am
I really dead?” Draco found the voice to speak the words with.

The
stranger stepped up to Draco and reached up a hand to touch the cheek
of the young heir. Draco felt the contact on his cheek and he felt
cold.

“You
are about to be brought back,” the stranger said with a nod
towards the ancestors.

And
with that, Draco Malfoy felt his body go ice cold. He could feel it
penetrating his soul as it moved up his body. He tried to move away
from the stranger, but he had grabbed the wrist of the young dragon
with his other hand and still cupped Draco's face.

When
the cold reached his chest he realized he couldn't breathe and
suddenly found himself gasping for air. Still the stranger held on.

After
a moment, the cold pressure covered his face. It filled his mouth
and nose. As it reached his eyes, Draco cast a glance over at his
two ancestors who merely watched. He blacked out.

-------------==========------------

Part
5 The Hero complex

Harry
Potter felt a shiver rip through his body, as if an icy hand had
placed itself upon his bare chest. Inhaling a deep breath, Harry
stopped in his tracks, causing Ginny to walk past him. Placing a
gloved hand over his heart—though the clothes—the boy who
lived focused on the rise and fall of his chest to remind him he is
alive.

“What's
wrong?” Ginny asked, closing the gap that had come between
them. “Did someone walk over your grave?”

A
laugh escaped Harry's lips and immediately he felt warm. “Rather
odd, Mrs Weasley, to hear a Muggle colloquialism from your lips.”
He reached out with his hand that was over his heart and grabbed her
gloved hand.

“Remember,
I did date Dean Thomas for a few months,” she said, leaning
into him while loosening her muffler from her face. “He taught
mt about football and his crazy obsession with the players who stay
on the ground.” She gave a shrug, “What fun is that?”

“His
part of the Gryffindor room is littered with non moving pictures of
the players. I think I was the only one not creeped out by it, even
Seamus, who is a half blood, says he lived more in the magical world
than the Muggle and was perplexed by it.” The rest of the boys
were from wizard families. “But then again,” Harry
continued, “entering the wizard world did not weird me out.”

“It
is easier adjusting into rather than adjusting out,” Ginny
said in memory of spending time growing up helping her mother clean
the nonmagical way.

Harry
nodded and threaded his arm through hers. Feeling safer and once
again reassured by her presence, rather like a security blanket, he
started to step onward and felt Ginny move at his side. Around the
next bend they should be at the edge of the lake.

Something
wasn't right to Harry. The world was eerily silent around them. He
moved a little swifter, wanting to brush off this reoccurring
feeling.

Just
as Ginny asked what the rush was, they came upon the lake.

The
first thing Harry noticed was a pile of snow in the distance, which
was highly odd.

At
the same moment, Ginny looked down at the still existent footprints
leading down to the lake. She brought her vision up in a sweeping
glance and commented “There's no one here.”

Bringing
his vision back over the ice, Harry Potter saw something out of
place: a hole in the ice, rather distant, more than three hundred
meters away. The world was still silent around them; it had turned
into an endless gray abyss. He pulled his snow cap off his head and
listened.

The
motion caught Ginny's eye. She followed his line of vision: a hole
in the ice.

“I've
got to go check,” Harry said suddenly, becoming breathless.
The stillness had set him off nerve. “We both expected to find
someone down here and,” he gestured wildly, “there's a
hole in the ice.”

“What
would someone be doing out there?” Ginny asked the sane
question. “Maybe someone just shot a hole in the ice with a
stray spell?”

“I
don't know, Ginny,” he turned to look at her, “but I got
to check to see no one's in the water.” Pulling out his wand,
he thought on a course of action.

“Shouldn't
we have heard a cry of help then?” Ginny offered. “They
would have tried to escape.” But she knew Harry had not heard,
she knew the look on his face. His mind was made up. Giving a sigh,
she pulled out her wand and transfigured her muffler into a rope.

The
Gryffindor did not even notice, he was forming action in his head.
Only when he felt her tying a rope around his waist did he look at
her again.

“Just
in case,” she simply said while leaving to tie off the end of
the rope to their favorite tree.

Harry
nodded, a quick plan of action had formed. He cast a simple
levitation spell on himself, for he felt better not to touch the ice
since it was thin and could crack under his weight. Levitating one's
self was a little more tricky than levitating other things, but he
quickly masted it.

With
a side glance at Ginny, he set forth over the ice. Regulating his
breathing to help keep himself calm, he glided over the ice. From
above the ice, he could see little scratches on the ice; his mind
supplied him with the correct term: ice skating. He had seen it only
on the telly years ago and wondered which of the students ice skated.
Realizing that someone could be trapped under the ice, or even dead,
Harry Potter wondered which Muggle born had his or her life in his
hands now. The thought gave him new resolve to double check to make
sure no one was there. If the wizard was clever enough, he prayed,
he or she could have done a spell, but Harry shuddered to think of
that circumstance.

His
vision focused on only the hole in the ice, for some break in the
water. His ears strained to listen to any unusual noises.

When
in actuality it took less than a minute to reach the hole, time
stretched in his head. He'd heard nothing, saw no movement in the
water, and by the time he reached the hole in the ice, the water was
peaceful and still. Small broken pieces of ice floated within the
big hole. Again Harry found his resolve doubled as he stared into
pitch black water.

While
he was simply tempted to stick his hand in and be done with it, it
didn't seem logical if someone was unconscious. At second thought,
blasting it open a little more and doing a basic summoning spell for
a non discript human body. He wasn't sure that it would find
anything, but then he would be relieved.

The
Boy Who Lived cast his spell with a small movement of his wand and
the ice around the hole broke into smaller pieces. A summoning spell
left his lips in barely a whisper, partially afraid of what he would
find. His heart pounded in his chest and echoed endlessly in his
ears for what again seemed an infinity. If someone was down there,
they could be dead.

At
first sign of ripple in the water, Harry didn't know whether to be
relieved or saddened at finding something breaking the stillness. A
black gloved hand broke the water rising out of the water, its' palm
spread open as if he had pushed against the ice and lost. Slowly,
the inner wrist rose from the icy depths dripping with water as if it
was dripping blood.

His
heart seemed to stop in his chest when from the bank, he heard a
shriek from Ginny as she witnessed this icy being rising from the
darkened water.

Finally
the shoulder appeared and Harry knew that next would be the head.
While he still hoped that some magic had been cast by this
unfortunate soul to keep itself alive, the hope was dwindling.
Reaching out to the gloved hand, Harry gave a physical tug on the
body.

With
that tug, a blond head rolled lifelessly on its shoulder. Water
crawled down each inch of skin as if it was alive. His face had an
icy blue hue to it and the lips were an unhealthy shade of blue.

A
wordless scream filled every essence of Harry Potters being.
Finally, his voice found his throat and he shouted the name of the
frozen boy.

“Draco.”
He shouted his name once at the boy and got no response.

Second
time that Harry shouted it, he punctuated it with a light tap on the
cheek.

For
what was once bravery had now turned into fear as he saw his blond
angel unresponsive. Harry's heart pounded again as he gave a tug and
got an armful of wet frozen Draco Malfoy. The Slytherin was the last
person at Hogwarts he had expected to be doing such a Muggle thing.

With
his bounty light as a feather, Harry pulled the lifeless body close
to his own not caring if he got wet. He felt a tug as he felt
himself being pulled back to the shore, careful not to drop his
precious cargo. The blond's arm was still extended oddly enough and
Harry cradled his body in the arms.

Bad
thoughts filled Harry's head. Draco couldn't be breathing, as his
body was more of a rag doll than a living body. Harry's own breath
hitched again, wishing that his own warm breath could warm Draco
Malfoy. The Gryffindor's feet were over solid ground when Harry
leaned down and pressed a kiss onto his brow and then to his icy
blueish lips.

As
if by magic, the blond angel's body gave the most slightest of jerks.
Instantaneously, his lips returned to a normal color. Harry
canceled the levitation spell and his feet dropped to the ground.
Ginny came into his line of view and she held her once again muffler
in her hand.

“Is
he dead?” She asked.

“I'm
not sure,” he could only hope that the frozen boy was under a
spell.

“Go
and alert Madame Pomfrey. I will bring him to her,” he said
as he wanted to feel hope again to verbal spare with the boy in his
arms again.

She
gave a nod and took off at a run back up toward the castle.

Harry
felt the body give a shudder. He wondered what type of spell Draco
had used to keep himself alive, since he had been undeniably under
that ice for longer than five minutes, and wondered what type of
action to take. Quickly, Harry did a basic cancelation spell, just
in case he had done magic to save himself.

Harry
felt his heart sink again as the spell had no effect on the boy.
Luckily enough, Harry had seen a documentary on hypothermia while
doing dishes at his relatives before.

Try
to get him breathing first, and then worry about warming him up.

First,
Harry cast a drying spell on their clothes and puled off his gloves.
He slipped off the blond's coat and laid him down on it. Leaning
over him, he parted the Slytherin's lips, listened for breaths, and
watched for the chest rising. He heard no breath, nor saw the chest
rise. This time, Harry breathed twice into the cold body. He
watched the chest rise and fall after each breath.

Draco
gave a sudden mouthful of water into Harry's mere inches away face.
Wiping his own face with his sleeve, he watched Draco start to breath
on his own, ever so slightly. A small part of Harry though that it
shouldn't have been that easy, but the big booming voice in Harry's
head shouted that “He's ALIVE!”

Draco's
seemingly frozen in the air arm suddenly went limp at his side. His
gray eyes had not opened, but Harry knew he was breathing.

“Cold,”
the semiconscious wizard whispered and his head fell to the side.

Harry
grasped Draco's hand and brushed some hair off of his forehead. The
skin still felt cold. He had to get the other man warm.

After
listening to the blond's teeth chatter for a moment, he had an idea.
They needed protection from the cold, second, start bringing his
temperature back up, and third, to get moving.

He
conjured up a bed with blankets and then a bubble of warmth around
them. He lifted Draco onto the bed. With a hurry Harry had hardly
known before, he started pulling off the clothes of the other boy.
While he was leaning over pulling off the final shirt, Harry heard
him whisper, “Black.”

Above
them in Harry's line of vision, a dark colored bird cawed. Perched
among snow covered branches, the crow seemed highly out of place.
Harry turned his head slightly to see if Draco had opened his eyes or
somehow had known the black bird was there.

Climbing
on to the bed, he kicked his own shoes off, took off his jacket, and
started pulling off his own shirts until his snake pendant was bare
on his chest. It stood out on his own pale skin, the green emerald
eyes seemed dull in the whitened day light. Leaning back, Harry
undid Draco's pants and pulled only to encounter the ice skates them
selves still attached to his feet. They held no straps, ties, or
buttons, so Harry put an enlarging spell on them to make them slip
off his fee. It worked. Ripping down his own pants, Harry threw
them off to the side. Both of them were naked, as Harry felt that
the warmth generated down there would help. He then enchanted the
bed to take them to Madame Pomfrey.

Harry
moved so he was laying on top of the other boy. He pulled the cover
up and arranged Draco's arms up above his head to let heat escape,
but also made the blanket so the lower parts of his legs could help
let heat escape. Wanting as much skin contact as possible, Harry
pressed his chest onto Draco's as if the strength of his heart beat
could make Draco's stronger. Harry's legs were on the outside of the
blond's pressing them together. He moved to his elbows to look
directly into Draco's face. His teeth had stopped chattering, and
Harry could see his eyes beneath the lids moving, as if he were
dreaming. “Cousin,” the word filtered out of Draco's
lips as the chest attached started breathing a little more normal.

His
skin was not fully a normal color.

With
the idea of warming him up, Harry started rubbing his body up and
down across the other boy. After about three movements, he realized
he had become aroused. Harry thought that is would be more
embarrassing to have the teachers find him like this than to have
Draco wake up and find him like this, Harry tried to will his arousal
down.

Holding
the other boy as close as possible, Harry heard a bird caw above
them. What could only be described as the same bird sat on a perch
above them as the bed took them by it. Why would a crow be following
them?

Feeling
a sudden nerve, Harry looked down at the Slytherin. He lowered his
forehead to touch Draco's and let his nose rest against the other's.
Harry kept his eyes directly over Draco's as he longed to look into
those gray eyes from the same short distance.

“Potter,”
he heard Draco whisper. Having Malfoy day his name like that
reinforced Harry's hard on. Harry wondered why he would say his
name, but that he must be dreaming. Draco's body responded to it as
blood rushed to that area. Harry felt the urge, the need, to press
his lower regions down and grind that boy into the mattress. Harry
felt his breathing hitch as nothing had ever felt so good as having
someone else pressing back into him. After a moment, he wanted to
steal a kiss from the aroused boy below him. Harry pressed his lips
down upon Draco's and used his tongue to part those lips to lick his
tongue.

At
that moment, the semi conscious boy's eyes jerked open to wide.

Harry
jumped and just as he was inches away, Draco let out a scream.

“What
is the meaning of this?!?!” A voice said, full of anger.

Harry
jerked his head away from Draco's only to find Snape, Pomfrey, and
Ginny standing right in front of him, beyond them, the castle. He
had made it to the castle.

Talk
about an erection killer, Harry turned Gryffindor scarlet under their
stare.

----=========----------

The
end of Chapter 2

Well,
I hope you liked it. This part 5 was incredibly hard for me to write
as I had problems mixing magic with the right steps for rescuing
someone from the ice. Thankfully, this is a fanfiction and I can do
it however I want to.

Hope
no one is disappointed where this is heading. Kudos to anyone who
remembers the movie The Crow, this situation will be loosely based
around that one. No, Draco is not going to go around killing all the
enemies or avenging anybody, though I think makeuped clown scary
trenchcoated Draco would be an awesome thing. For all intents and
purposes, Voldie is pretty much dead for now. He will play a big
role later, MUCH later.

Just
a few notes left..... Yes, it is possible that Potter could have been
related to Malfoy, as nearly all purebloods are related somewhere
along the line. Who here can trace their ancestry back two
centuries?

With
the banter towards Finningan and Goldstein, I wanted to say that I
just wanted to have an established couple for once.

Thanks
for the warm reception to the first chapter. I hope no one will be
disappointed with it here.

Thanks
WeasleyWench, Scotty, Christina G, thrnbrooke, Drac, Night the
Storyteller, L_C, Foxy, lietothedevil, jaimie, DestinyDragon,
IrnBruOrDeath, Lith for a review.
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Broken Ice