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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
- 2
- 3
Broken Ice

by Iris Wood

Chapter 3 The
Will to Live

Well, this is a complete Chapter 3.

Warnings: HP/DM, kind of, he's still unconscious. Sirius/James kiss
in a flashback. (In my world, sex is a lot freer, and everyone is
gay;) And voyeurism, but that is all I can say now. A little
wanking one of the later parts.

Anything non canon is my creation, including Aunt Taryn and the spy.

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

Part
1 A Ghost of a Chance

Bare feet touched the snow, and the man attached wondered why they
didn't pass through it. He made the motion of taking a breath and
immediately missed the icy feel of the cold in his lungs. Clad only
in the jeans still, he felt he should be cold in the snowy backdrop
and wished he had his old motorcycle jacket on. It appeared around
his shoulders and with a simple movement, he slipped his hair out
over the collar.

His idea had worked. His relation to the Malfoys had finally come to
good use. When the Malfoy child had been in the land of the dead, it
was a rule that only his ancestors could greet him. He was
knowledgeable of the feelings the young Malfoy and Harry Potter held
for each other--as the ancestors had put it, the dead are all seeing,
all knowing. A deal had been struck between himself, Corbin Malfoy,
and the higher powers: he would be given this chance only if he tries
to lift the curse upon the family that Lucius Malfoy had placed upon
it.

Turning, he found what he knew to be there: a semi frozen Draco
Malfoy being carried back to the shoreline by Harry Potter, as being
tugged in by Ginny Weasley. He knew Harry to be the hero type as
others had put it before. Harry would help him, especially knowing
his feelings for the young Malfoy despite the past they had shared
during their younger years at Hogwarts.

He heard the franticness of Harry's voice when he told Ginny Weasley
to go alert Pomfrey. He had always favored the Weasley girl and was
thankful for how she helped Harry in his time of need this past year.

“I never blamed you,” his voice sounded so alien even to
his own ears. Harry Potter could not hear him, but he found himself
saying it as much for his own sake as he wished he could for Harry's.
“The Dark Lord tricked you. You are the last thing I have of
my beloved James; I let myself think that I could give you the family
that was denied both of us.”

Sirius Black could only watch as Harry fought to keep himself calm.
He could only watch as Harry slipped off Malfoy's coat and then laid
him down onto it. He watched as Harry sank to his knees next to the
blond and touching the head back and trying to breath life into his
body. Malfoy's chest gave a rise and on the second breath, he gave a
spurt of water up into Harry's face.

Sirius found himself giving a laugh. The look on Harry's face was
priceless. Sirius had seen that wet look on James' face many a time
before. It had been after Lily Evans had done a rather spectacular
trick with a Muggle water balloon at James. He refused to let the
memory surface.

“How I loved your parents,” Sirius found the words
leaving his lips though they had no audience. He felt sorrow for his
loss, though as Moaning Myrtle had proved, ghosts still had feelings.
When he looked at his godson, he saw his best friend, a man he would
have died for, and a man he had loved. Sirius dug his hands into his
pockets, he had better not think of those days long ago.

He looked over to see Harry brushing the wet hairs off the pale
forehead, the look upon his face similar to one he had seen on
James' face many times before. The simple brush conveyed an act of
affection that tugged at his heart. Such a small thing made him long
for times when they were more carefree.

Another memory popped up and this time he welcomed it.

Twenty plus
years ago, he had been underneath the very same tree with James on a
rare sunny spring afternoon. Remus was off putting a finishing touch
on a foot of parchment for potions, and the rat was off having a
snack down in the kitchen. Only the two of them enjoyed the sunshine
by the lake.

James had his
snitch out, releasing it and then catching it. After a moment, he
dropped to a sitting position below the tree. He let the snitch go,
and suddenly turned to pull Sirius down into a laying position next
to him, only to catch the snitch a moment later. Putting the snitch
back into his pocket, James propped himself up on an elbow to study
Sirius's profile.

Just when
Sirius was about to say something, James smacked his fingers lightly
over Sirius's forehead, brushing the hair away from his eyes. Sirius
waited for the punchline, and he was not disappointed.

“Padfoot
looks like he has fleas, maybe he needs a bath.”

Sirius gave a
laugh and then retorted, “Do you want to bathe him?” The
words were out of his mouth before he had realized what he had said.

James arched an
eyebrow. “It is a nice day out here, maybe he could get a bath
right here.” A smirk streaked across his face as he magicked
the still very cold lake water onto Sirius's head.

The look on
Sirius's face remains priceless: his mouth agape, his eyes surprise,
and his hair wetly falling across his face. He did the first thing
that came to his mind-retaliation-and did a similar spell to splash
James with the freezing cold water. In that split second of
surprise, Sirius moved and pushed James' other shoulder to the ground
and maneuvered his hands to pin James down.

“Now you
look like a wet dog as much as I do, Prongs,” he said with a
grin stretched across his face. But it was James who did it; he
pushed up and managed to brush his lips against Sirius's.

“How
about a bath?” James' voice was soft and held only a hint of
promise.

Sirius gave a
nod and tentatively closed the difference between them for a better
kiss. He let the hands slip from his grasp. One hand touched the
wet skin of his neck, and the other hand reached up to brush the
hair out of Sirius's face once again.

End flashback.

Sirius smiled only to himself. They were fourteen at the time in a
world much more carefree. It was his first kiss and the start of a
new level of friendship. Sirius tried to shake his head of the
thoughts.

“Black.”

Turning his head wildly for who said his name, Sirius spotted no
other person. His gaze refocused to a Harry Potter undressing the
Malfoy boy on this bed he had conjured up. Harry stopped his action
of pulling off one of the boy's shirts and was staring at the
infamous lakeside tree. Sirius followed his gaze only to find a
single black crow perched among the bare tree limbs.

“Black,” he realized it was the crow that had said his
family name. He walked over to the crow.

While he was tempted to say something such as 'how do you know my
name' or 'how can it talk,' Sirius settled on a simple “Yes.”

“I am known as Charon. I am your connection to the other
world. Your time here is limited, soon I will return your soul to
the dead.” The crow's mouth did not move, but the words came
from it.

“A deal had been struck, I thought, between the ancestors,
myself, and the higher powers. We each have our own agenda, but
thought I would be able to communicate with the young Malfoy here.”

“So you shall. He will be the only one that can see you,”
the crow spoke.

“Will I be able to return here?” Sirius worried that he
had been given a bad deal, worried that Charon would return him
without his even being able to talk to Draco.

“Yes, but as long as you are on this plane, I will be nearby.
It is my decision as to when you will come back to the dead,”
Charon ruffled his feathers. Stretching his great wings, he started
to preen himself indicating the end of the conversation.

His time was limited, but he knew he would have to wait till the
young Malfoy was awake. Turing back around, he found that the bed
was gone. Harry must have enchanted it to take them back to the
castle. Darting back to where the bed had been, he found the awkward
prints of the four post bed walking.

His feet ghosted along the snow in the direction of the castle.
Within moments, he caught up with the bed. A sight most unusual
beheld him when he reached the bed. The sight of a naked Harry
Potter perched atop the young Malfoy! Sirius's mind screamed WHAT
THE HELL?!?! before rationality kicked in and he realized that he was
trying to warm him up. What a perk! Was his next thought.

Sirius willed himself to 'sit' with his legs crossed on the bed, away
from its' occupants. Draco looked to be regaining color and his
teeth had stopped chattering. The ghost found himself unable to take
his eyes off of his godson; he reminded him so of James. Their legs
and upper chest were exposed and a blanket covered their trunks.

“You don't know how close I came to being your father,”
he whispered and tried to quickly squelched any thoughts attached to
him or Lily from surfacing.

Harry had laid himself on top of the Malfoy and Sirius could tell
that Harry was getting turned on by this. He found himself unable to
look away as he watched Harry lower himself onto Draco and balance
himself on his elbows above the other boy. Harry's head turned up
and away from Draco only to, as Sirius saw, gaze upon Charon up in a
tree. The crow said nothing, but made its' presence known with a
loud caw.

When Harry returned his attention to Draco's face, something had
changed in Harry's face. Sirius watched his profile and moved
himself into a laying on his side position. The look on Harry's face
had turned to longing. The raven colored hair fell so familiar
around the Potter face, yet so differently as James' hair was a
longer length at 17.

Again, Sirius wanted to tell his godson so badly that it wasn't his
fault that he died. He wanted to tell him that there was hope still.
The ghost watched as Harry lowered his forehead to touch the one
below him. Sirius reached out his hand to touch the raven haired
boy's face, but the bed gave a bump and his hand fell into Draco.
Almost instantaneously, Draco very horsely said “Potter.”

Sirius jerked his hand away and wondered if he had caused the boy to
say his name cause he had been thinking so heavily about him. That
thought was quickly lost as he watched Harry press himself into Draco
and Harry wrap his lower body tighter around the blond. The
Gryffindor's breathing changed.

He could only watch as Harry closed the distance between their
mouths. He could only watch as Harry peaked his tongue out to slide
it between the Slytherin's lips.

Draco at that moment jerked his eyes open, unfocused and unaware of
the man above him. Harry jerked upward as he watched Draco arch
himself up in a wordless scream.

“What is the meaning of this?” Sirius had not noticed
that the bed had stopped and looking down at the end of the bed stood
Snivellus, the Weasley girl, and Madam Pomfrey, all at the opening of
the bridge walkway to the castle. Sirius glanced back at Harry to
see that the boy had turned a full body scarlet. Below him, the
Malfoy boy was unable to move, his eyes still unfocused.

Sirius watched as Harry closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath,
before speaking, “It was a logical way to bring up his body
temperature.” He opened his eyes and grasped the thermal long
sleeve that was piled next to Sirius, and pulled it on after rolling
sideways off of Draco and pulling the cover up over him.

“By molesting him” Snape bit out.

Madam Pomfrey moved to the side of the bed and checked over Draco.
“I think Mr. Potter should be commended for his act of bravery,
and his attempt to keep him alive.”

“Appropriate warming spells did not come to mind,” Harry
slowly said. “The only thing that did was a Muggle documentary
that I had seen at my relatives before,” his voice was stronger
by the time he finished speaking. He grabbed his pants and pulled
them on below the blanket.

Sirius felt he should be commended too. With his own private smirk,
he looked fully over at Snivellus, who had gone red int the cheeks
and could only grit his teeth and look upon them wide eyed. The
Weasley girl was silent next to them, the slightest smile on her
face, as if she knew something else no one else did.

“Let's get him to the hospital wing,” Pomfrey said. Just
as Harry popped off, she reduced the size of the bed to fit through
the doors. Sirius stood too next to Harry.

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley, for your alert, you are dismissed.”
Snape addressed Ginny. “You, Mr Potter,” he said,
turning to Harry, “may follow to the hospital wing to collect
your things.”

Harry gave a nod and moved to follow them into the castle.

Sirius the ghost walked over to Snivellus and stood inches away from
him. “Thank you for protecting Harry,” he said, though
he knew that Snape could not hear. In the final battle in which
Albus Dumbledore lost his life, and the Dark Lord was vanquished,
Severus Snape had protected Harry Potter, and removed the unconscious
boy from the fight. Snape turned and walked into the castle,
intending on sending for Draco's aunt.

“Black,” the crow spoke to him. “Your time here is
limited.”

Sirius gave a nod toward the crow and walked into the castle.
Hogwarts had changed so little since he was a boy here, only the
teachers have. Remembering that he was a ghost, Sirius decided to
take the shortest path to the Hospital wing: through two empty
classrooms.

When he reached the hospital wing, he found that Draco had been
transferred to a hospital bed. Harry sat perched on a empty bed next
to the Slytherin and was silently separating the clothes into piles
next to him.

Sirius moved and stood next to Draco, between Harry and the bed.
Draco's eyes were closed, as if he were asleep, a bottle of potion
next to him on the table. He looked more alive now than before.

“I need your help, Draco,” Sirius said, kneeling next to
the bed. Draco opened his eyes to look at him.

“Sirius Black,” the words were just audible to Harry on
the next bed, and he leaned a little closer in.

“I want you to help bring me back.”

======+++++====

Part 2 Complications

Harry clutched his necklace tightly in
his hand. He could only sit and watch Draco sleep now. Pomfrey had
allowed him to collect his things and he was dragging his feet about
leaving. The school nurse had applied a lotion to the Slytherin's
skin to help blood flow to all parts of the body and had given him
something to help him relax. (AN: yes, I don't know if making him
relax after a near drowning would be the best solution, but I'm just
making this up as I go...) Draco was still recovering and she
planned to do a full examination in about an hour after she brewed a
special potion to help him.

Harry had informed her that Malfoy did
speak a little while he was only half conscious, but Madam Pomfrey
was yet to get a response from the boy. Relaxing was the current
solution and he would talk and move when he was ready.

While sitting and watching the sleeping
Slytherin, Harry thought he looked so innocent and childlike. Who
had known that things would turn out like this when he woke up this
morning? It was two days before Xmas and he had rescued Draco, who
had been doing a distinctly Muggle thing, seen him naked, pressed
himself onto him to help save him, and stolen a kiss.

Harry sat down on the vacant bed to the
right of the occupied one. Draco was unresponsive to voices now, but
the Gryffindor could swear he had heard him say, 'Black,' 'Cousin,'
and 'Potter.' Had he been dreaming? The way Malfoy said his name
had caused a fire to burn in Harry, as if he knew he was there.
Harry knew that the Malfoys were related to the Blacks according to
the Black Family tree. Draco's mother was a cousin to Sirius: one of
three sisters. Rolling his eyes, Harry wondered which family had the
stronger pureblood mania.

Looking down at the necklace in his
hand, he pressed the S into his palm. He had bought this necklace
with a secret hope of one day giving it to the Slytherin, but that
was a hope that said Slytherin would one day be in his life. The
pendant even looked like a snake, its' eyes were tiny emeralds and if
one looked hard enough, you could make out the indentation of scales
curving down the back of the S. Harry had slipped it also off when
he undressed to warm the Slytherin. It also represented the
Slytherin half inside of him, for now more than ever, he had recently
wondered how things would have been different had he been in
Slytherin rather than a Gryffindor.

But he shook his head away from any
such line of thoughts, and it was a 'caw' that brought him back into
the hospital room. Up on the window sill sat a black crow, almost
impossibly the same crow that he had spotted twice before. Feeling
suspicious, Harry thought to himself that he should ask Hermione
about crows after the holiday.

Bringing his gaze back down, he looked
back at the only occupied bed in the wing. Draco's eyes were barely
open, looking in his direction, but not really looking at him. Harry
resisted the urge to jump up and grab the blond's hand. Instead,
Harry edged himself to the edge of the bed and leaned forward to
watch the Slytherin for movement.

“Sirius Black.” The words
were barely audible to Harry, but once again piqued his interest.

Draco's eyes seemed to follow something
Harry did not see, for he turned his head a little to look down at
the end of the bed.

“Murderer,” the boy
breathed, before settling his half lidded eyes back toward Harry.
The Gryffindor gripped the pendant tighter in his hand; how he wished
he could go over and shake the other boy and correct him.

“Pettigrew,” the name
scratched lowly from the Slytherin's mouth.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, it
was as if Malfoy had read his mind. Standing up, Harry gave into the
urge to reach out to the other boy. Just when his eyes were focus
solely on Draco, and his right hand hovered above Draco's, the crow
gave a loud CAW that seemed to echo in Harry's ears. Looking up, he
could see the crow flying out the window, though he was sure that
there was a magical barrier there and no way in or out for a simple
crow to just fly though.

Feeling more perplexed, Harry returned
his attention down to the blond in the bed. “Draco,” the
name left his lips just as he grasped the hand of the Slytherin.
Within seconds Draco's features changed and he looked to be in pain,
and looked to be more aware than before. Draco started thrashing his
hand as if trying to rid Harry's hand.

“Hurts,” Draco said, his
face contorting in pain. Harry immediately let go and backed away.
The blond's hand visually trembled.

“Sorry” was the first thing
out of Harry's lips. While he felt slightly worried and a bit upset
over Draco's reaction, he didn't feel good about this new
development. When Draco didn't say anything, Harry turned and said
that he would return with Pomfrey. Slipping the necklace into his
pocket, Harry exited into the nurse's office without looking back at
Draco.

Harry found Pomfrey mixing a potion.
“I touched Draco's hand and he said it hurt and it started
trembling,” he just blurted out.

“Oh dear,” was all she
said. Thankfully, her voice was not accusatory as Harry feared that
it would've been. She froze the bottom of the cauldron as the potion
required. “Did you wake him?” she asked as she went
though the door back into the infirmary.

“He woke himself. I heard him
mumbling to himself and when I tried to touch his hand, he said it
hurts and it started trembling.” Harry filled her in very fast
and found himself worrying more as they entered the room again.

When they entered the room, Draco was
more coherent, for he immediately made eye contact with Harry.

“I can't make a fist,” was
the first thing Draco said. With his left hand he cradled the right
hand to his body.

“Do you remember hurting it?”
She asked him.

“No” Harry said at the
same time as Draco spoke. The blond gave him a look with the tiniest
smirk attached.

“Hold out your hand, please,”
she asked. Draco held up his right hand and it trembled. She
reached out to feel it and he immediately hissed in pain. Touching
it at different spots with her hand first, she then bought her wand
up his hand from finger tips to shoulder to head. She gave a slight
shake of her head before speaking. “I can find no physical
breaks, but there does seem to be some nerve damage.” She
stood back from her patient. Instead of elaborating, she asked, “Do
you remember anything?”

“I drowned” was all the
Slytherin said looking down away from them.

“And I brought you back,”
the words flew from Harry's lips before he could realize that he was
saying them.

“Mr. Potter here and Mrs Weasley
told of how they had found you under the ice,” she said.

“Yeah,” was all that Draco
could muster.

“Sometimes there are
complications when the oxygen doesn't reach the brain for a time
period.” Madam Pomfrey summoned another vial. “Start
drinking this about every hour, it should help you get better.”
She poured it into a cup and handed it to him. “Drinking all
at once is preferable.” Malfoy took it with his left hand and
gulped it. His face made a small grimace. “Still expecting
pumkin juice, heh?”

As Madame Pomfrey walked to the door,
Harry started to make his own exit. He shrunk his excess clothes and
stuck them into his pocket. Giving a start, he remembered that he
had not picked up Malfoy's wand, so it was probably at the bottom of
the lake. He decided to go talk to Ginny and go retrieve it while
there was still time before dinner.

“I didn't find your wand,”
Harry told Draco, closing the distance between himself and the bed.
“Sorry,” was all he could muster.

“Thanks, Harry” Draco said
and leaned to grab his arm with his left hand. “For saving me,
I mean.”

Harry wiggled his arm, not to rid
Draco's hand, but to be able to grasp it, like he had intended to do
before Draco had freaked out. He had no intention of telling Draco
about how he 'saved' him.

“Who taught you to ice skate?”
The question had plagued his mind.

“My cousins,” was all he
said.

Harry's mouth fell open. For a Malfoy
to be doing something so Muggle seemed unheard of.

“Surprised?” Draco said,
causing Harry to close his mouth. “Apparently, we are not all
evil,” he cryptically said.

The doors to the hospital wing flew
open with a sudden bang; Harry immediately dropped Draco's hand. A
short woman with a short haircut and button nose rushed into the
room. From the hair, Harry could tell she was a Malfoy. The clasped
hands were not unnoticed by her. A step behind her, Snape strode in,
immediately dismissing Potter.

“Leave, Potter.”

Draco gave him a tiny smile only for
him. Harry withdrew and started to walk away, only to come face to
face with the short woman whose top of her head came up to Harry's
eyes.

“The boy who still lives,”
she said, her own green eyes peering up into Harry's.

Harry felt his guard go up. But the
next thing she said took him by surprise.

“You do have Lily's eyes,”
she said then glanced up at his scar. “I'm sorry that you
couldn't have known her, she was a dear friend of mine through
school.” She clasped his hand into her smaller one and shook
it lightly.

“My name is Taryn Saint Clair,
Draco's aunt.”

Again, Harry's mouth fell open. It was
unexpected to say the least. Suddenly, he heard a laugh from Draco
on the bed. The woman pushed past him now and placed a kiss upon
Draco's forehead.

Harry felt that he should leave, but
was glued to the spot as the truth of a Malfoy Evans friendship
turned in his mind.

“Dismissed.” Snape once
again commanded.

Harry stepped away and made his exit.
The thought of still retrieving Draco's wand seemed like a good idea,
as it would give him an excuse to come see him again. With a look
over his shoulder, he made eye contact with Draco before exiting the
room.

=====++++++=====

Part 3 Family Values

Draco remembered it all: his ancestors'
words still floated around his mind. His relation to Slytherin still
amazed him. Knowing that his family had a better side than what he
had grown up with in his house was a comfort to him.

Sirius Black had followed him back from
the dead and vanished with a crow's whim. Draco knew he was related
to the Blacks and had thought them similar to his own infernal
family. To his surprise, through his conversation with Black, Draco
learned that Sirius was not the maniacal murderer that the history
books and recent newspapers thought he was. Sirius blamed everything
on the betrayal of one Peter Pettigrew, which, as Draco knew from
newspapers from his third year, was one that Black was supposed to
have killed.

Sirius asked things of him, but Draco
was not sure of how he could help his dead cousin. He wanted to be
brought back from the dead, and to Draco's knowledge, there is no way
to return from the dead. Sirius, however, said he knew of a way.
Second on the agenda is vengeance against the two people that as he
said it, 'ruined' his life: Peter Pettigrew and Draco's aunt,
Bellatrix Lestrange. Both had managed to stay uncaptured from the
Ministry. Moments after Draco learning this, Sirius Black had been
taken by the crow, and Black promised he would be back.

One thing Draco would never forget is
the moment he shared with Harry Potter, despite what negative
implications the actions had. He wasn't surprised that the man with
the hero complex was his savior. With smiles and a touch was all
Draco could do to repay him. Maybe, just maybe, Draco thought, there
is hope for a future between them.

But he had been most disturbed when
Potter had touched his right hand, for unbelievable pain shot up his
arm and it trembled uncontrollably. Unable to grasp anything, he had
taken to clutching it to his chest. Thankfully, Madame Pomfrey would
be able to do something about this injury.

Potter had just been dismissed by Snape
after being told that his mother was once his aunt's best friend.

“Severus told me about your
nearly drowning. What were you thinking?” his aunt demanded.

“Just ice skating and simply made
a mistake in judging the ice,” Draco said with a shrug.

“Worried sick I was when Severus
flooed me. I rushed right over. Another few minutes and he would
have missed me.” She put a hand to his forehead. “How
are you feeling?”

Madame Pomfrey popped out of nowhere to
answer that. “He is in good health, except for one problem.”
His aunt made a little wince, when the nurse said problem. “When
blood does not reach the brain, it sometimes causes complications.
Mr Malfoy is having trouble using his right hand, even to grasp
something.”

Draco felt himself trying to move his
fingers and being unable to close his fist.

“I gave him something for the
pain and will keep him on a regiment for helping him control his hand
over time.”

“Will it affect his magic?”
Aunt Taryn asked.

“Possibly,” she answered.
“But he should be back in full control of his wand and magic by
the NEWTS.”

“Five months!” Draco found
himself shouting.

“This is still a hospital,
Draco,” his aunt admonished him.

“It's too early to tell, but he
may have to relearn control with his wand. I've seen it happen that
the patient needed to be retaught his basic skills with his hands,
even to the point of having to use the opposite hand to wave a wand.”
She uncorked a potion she had been clutching. “Mr. Malfoy
will need to drink this twice a day for the next few days to help his
nervous system. Here, you may take the first dose now.”

The nurse tipped it up to Draco's lips
to drink. “Only a mouthful each time, please.”

Draco took a swig, and for once, it
tasted like carrot juice.

“I'll be back in the office, if
either of you would like to have another word together,” she
nodded to each in turn. “Nice to have meet you, Mrs. St
Clair.” She walked out.

Aunt Taryn shared a look with Severus,
as if they both knew the damage had the potential to be very serious
and permanent.

Draco warred with himself, he wanted
some answers about his family history that he thought he knew.

“Thank you for your concern,
Severus, but can I talk to my aunt alone for a bit?”

Snape nodded and turned to leave,
sharing a look with his aunt again, as if signaling that the
conversation is not yet over.

“Tell me about my grandfather and
how did he die?” he asked.

A slightly glazed look came over her
face as she repeated nearly word for word what his own father had
once told him. Listening to her small magic forced lie, Draco found
another reason to dislike his father. He wondered what type of spell
or charm his father had used to convince his family of an honest, and
not finger pointing death. He felt he would need to find out the
truth about it, and wondered how he would he would find out. Draco
asked about his grandmother and was fed the same lie.

Aunt Taryn leaned forward to push hair
away from Draco's face, as if nothing magical had just occurred. He
had to resist the urge to lean away from the touch, as he was still
reeling over the lies.

“Why the sudden interest?”
She asked as the spell fully lost its hold.

“Nothing much,” Draco
forced himself to keep his face neutral. “Almost dying makes
me want to reconnect with my family.” It wasn't a total lie,
just a twisted truth. His near death experience had forced him to
reexamine what he thought he knew about his family. “How are
the boys doing?” he changed the subject.

“Asher and J.C. have been
spending the holiday with Requiem's parents in the South of France.”
She let a smile grace her lips as she mentioned her husband. “As
I said, if Severus had not flooed me at that exact moment, he would
have missed me all together. I was doing final preparations to leave
for the holiday.”

“Thank you for your concern,
Auntie, but I'll be all right,” he said using his elbows to
push himself up on the bed a little.

“I am glad to see you are able to
do that, Draco. From what the Nurse was describing, this is a very
serious development.” His aunt said repositioning his pillow
behind him.

Draco felt a snicker leave his lips at
the word serious. “I have a feeling how serious it will be.”
This time, his lips only turned upward into a smile.

Taryn put her hands to her hips in a
motherly fashion. “What ever do you find funny. You could
have died.”

Draco could not tell her that he had
died, instead he looked down at his hands. They looked no different,
as the right one had stopped trembling, but as much as he willed his
fingers in his right hand to move, he found himself unable to curl
his fingers or even twist his wrist. He had a feeling it might be a
price for coming back. Thoughts of his cousin willed their way back
into his head. At what cost was he willing to help him? Did his
ancestors know this was going to happen? Is this the price of
bringing back one causality of this war? The cost of being able to
do magic?

Aunt Taryn reached out to touch Draco's
right hand, momentarily forgetting about the problem with the hand,
her goal simply to bring him away from whatever thoughts troubled
him. The moment she did, Draco winced at the pain and silently
pulled the hand away.

“It is serious then,” she
said more to herself than to him, pulling her hands together in front
of her.

“Will I be able to hold a wand
again?” Draco found himself asking, looking directly into the
eyes of his aunt.

“There are other options,”
she said, “both of which would require you becoming proficient
in a new skill. Relearning spells with your left hand is one
option.” She reached out and grasped his left hand, pulling it
up and away from his other hand and curled the fingers. Placing his
left hand back down, she placed a hand on his head. “The other
option is wand less magic, saying the spells in your head. It
requires a complete mastery of the spell or charm before being able
to do it by thinking it. Only a handful of people have a complete
mastery of common spells and charms, it is difficult to learn.”
Her voice dropped as she finished the sentence. “Have faith
and heart, little dragon, you have good blood and a strong will. You
will get better.”

Draco found himself arching an eyebrow,
this was the first time he had ever heard her say anything positive
about being a Malfoy. Maybe she did know something about their
heritage. Or maybe she was showing a little of the pureblood mania
her brother had been so adept at.

His aunt gave a smile and kissed his
forehead. “Do you want me to stay for a little longer, here at
Hogwarts? Or I can give you the address and you can contact me if
you need to talk.”

Draco squelched the urge to ask her a
million questions about his family history. “You can leave.
Go spend Christmas with your family.”

“You are my family too. As much
as I am hesitant sometimes to admit it, I am first and foremost a
Malfoy.” She ran a hand through her hair, as if showing it off
to Draco. “Locks this beautiful come from good genes.”

Draco gave a genuine smile and nodded
his head.

“I shall go talk to Severus for a
few before leaving.” She drew out a quill and parchment from
her pocket. “Here, let me give you the address of my husbands
parents house before leaving.” She wrote it down and then
handed it to him. He took it with his left hand. “Read it
back to me,” and he did. He reached over and put it onto the
nightstand.

The petite blond woman leaned over and
carefully gave Draco a hug and patted his hair this time. “Get
well young dragon,” she said before turning and leaving the
room.

=====++++++======

Part 4 Do tell

Harry Potter stood out front the
entrance portrait of the Gryffindor Common Room. The Fat Lady had
been absent from her portrait for the last five minutes and he waited
patiently for someone to exit. With only an hour till dinner, Harry
wanted to talk to Ginny in private beforehand.

Finally, the Fat Lady returned,
slightly tipsy. Impatiently, Harry said the password and gained
entry. Ginny sat curled in one of the chairs by the fire, reading a
book. Her back was turned toward him when he tried to sneak up on
her.

“I know it's you, Harry,”
she said without looking up from her book. He sat in the chair next
to her, adjusting his jeans as he pulled his legs up onto the chair
with him.

“How's Malfoy?” she asked,
finally looking up at him.

“Draco is awake and talking.”
He leaned forward and whispered to her, “I have got to tell you
something.”

“That you were naked and
obviously looked like you had some fun while being a hero,”
Ginny responded in a similar whisper.

Harry felt a blush cross his features.
“There is that.” He gazed across the common room to see
if it is empty: the two of them were the only current occupants.
Just to be on the safe side, the Boy Who Lived cast a charm to keep
the conversation private.

“Why did you do that?”
Ginny asked. “No one else has passed through here since I sat
down.”

“Just in case,” Harry
cryptically whispered.

“So, Mr. Potter, do tell me about
it, and feel free to leave in any naughty details you wish,”
her voice dropped to a husky level.

Harry brought a hand up to cover his
mouth in mock shock. “Ginerva Weasley, I didn't know you had
such a dirty mind.”

A slow grin crossed her lips. “Dirty
is dreaming of being naked with Luna Lovegood and Hermione Granger at
the same time.” She looked like the cat who stole the cream.

“Both?” Harry practically
shouted. He let a little snicker cross his lips. “Luna might
be manipulated easily enough into being naked, but she's too good of
a friend and that would be cruel. And Hermione is dating your
brother after several long years of a delicate dance.”

“Yeah, asking to have sex with
his girlfriend maybe a little much.” Ginny said, laughing.
“The two of them have been reoccurring figures in my dreams, a
mere three times since the start of school. This was the first dream
with both of them interacting with me at the same time. I dreamt the
tree of us walked into the Great Hall in only our underclothes, and
we started trying on each others nickers.”

“Weird,” he said with a
grin.

“The funny part is that we start
comparing breast sizes and the color of our pubic hear, and
theorizing why we don't have penises.”

Harry burst out laughing.

“The funny thing is I have a
distinct memory of being very little and taking a bath with Ron. He
asked me why I broke mine off.” She managed to say this with a
straight face before bursting out in giggles.

He laughed even harder until the tears
fell.

“It's like my only real young
memory,” she said, accentuating the words with her hands.

Harry stopped laughing and got a look
on his face. Wiping the tears of laughter off his face, he switched
emotional directions. “I have no happy childhood memories,”
the voice was very small from his lips.

“Then it is a good thing you have
the rest of your life to create happy ones.” Ginny said,
putting a hand over his. “So, Harry, do tell....”

After a moment to regain his composure
and staring down at the hand upon his own, he spoke. “I did
the only thing that came to mind to help him: use my body heat. He
wasn't breathing; I had to get him breathing again.”

“You mean that he was dead?”
Her eyes widened as she said it.

“Yeah, I got his heart started
again. He even coughed up a mouthful of water into my face. Inside,
I was so scared, but I knew what I had to do.” He paused
briefly. “Getting him back to the castle was the hard part.”

“That walking bed was a good
stroke.” Ginny complemented him.

“Thanks,” he said, bowing
his head a little. “My Muggle background came in handy for
once. Memories of those documentaries allowed me to save Draco.”

“Is that how you knew to get
naked?”

“Sharing my body heat without
warming him too quickly was the key,” Harry nodded. A sly
grin came over his features as he continued. “Having his body
under mine was one of the greatest feelings I've ever had.”

“Better experience, I'm sure,
when he is warm and conscious,” Ginny said with a raised
eyebrow.

“Rubbing my body over his was the
most erotic thing I've ever done. I had such a wood at one point,
especially with the feel of my Lil Potter rubbing his inner thigh
area.” A glazed look came over his features and he licked his
lips.

“Looks like Lil Potter is at
attention again,” even from her viewpoint, she could see the
straining of the jeans and the way he clutched the arms of the chair.
“Bet it is even better when the other person is awake and
responsive.”

The scarlet blush radiated across his
face in full bloom. “I kissed him,” he said really fast.

“You what?” Ginny's eyes
bulged slightly.

“Kissed him. It was right before
you walked up.”

“And here I thought your head was
just lowered to nuzzle his neck,” Ginny sing songed. “Little
did I know how naughty you were.”

“He said my name, well, Potter,
in a way that kindled a fire in my blood, like a lover would. It was
as if he knew I was up above him, Ginny, doing these things to his
body and he liked it.”

“You did things to him?”
her voice elevated.

“Not like that, I promise,”
he quickly said. “But his body responded lovingly to my being
there.” He sighed audibly. “I look forward to a future
where he says my name like that again.” Harry cleared his
throat and tried to will Lil Potter down before speaking again.

“He said stuff in his barely
conscious state: he talked about Sirius.” A change came over
his voice.

Ginny looked confused. “Random
ramblings?” She offered.

“That's what I thought too.
Ginny, did you know the Blacks and the Malfoys are cousins by
marriage?”

“So is about every pureblood
family,” she spoke a familiar line.

“Draco's mother was a Black and
was Bellatrix Lestrange's sister.”

“It is doubtful that Sirius had
much dealings with the Malfoy, especially his cousin,” Ginny
said.

“I don't know, but he said
'cousins' and I surmise that it was in reference to the Blacks.”
He paused again for a dramatic affect. “That's not the half
weird part,” Harry said sitting a little straighter and
leaning more forward in the chair toward her. “The weird part
was that he knew that Pettigrew was the murderer, the one
responsible. It was as if he had read it from my thoughts. Malfoy
had said Sirius's name, followed by murderer, and just when I was
biting my tongue not to automatically correct him and say that
Pettigrew did it, Malfoy said the name Pettigrew.”

“How do you know he wasn't
accusing him of murdering him and everyone?” Ginny asked, very
enthralled.

“By the look that came over his
face when he said it. Draco was awake and coherentish at this
point.”

Ginny looked a little confused.

“He had awakened,” Harry
said, “but he seemed to see and talk to something I could not
see. I wouldn't call him one hundred percent awake at this point.”

Before Ginny could interrupt, he
continued. “There is another thing, a crow that seemed to
follow us around. I saw it several times and the last was inside the
Hospital wing.”

“How could a bird get inside?
Let alone why would a crow be out in the middle of winter? Don't
they fly south or something?” Ginny put on a Hermione look.
“We'll just have to do a little library research, for it sounds
rather odd.”

Suddenly a third year boy walked into
the Common Room. He passed by without noticing them, and right out
the portrait hole.

Harry pulled out his watch, which was
attached to his pants. “Quarter till,” he said. “I
got more to tell you, but do you want to head down to dinner first?”

“Sure,” she said, starting
to stand.

“I could change and put my
clothes up in my trunk,” he said, pulling them out of his
pocket.

“Gay boys, always worried about
their looks.” Ginny mock chided. She reached out to pull him
up. When he stood, she pulled him into a hug. “I'm so proud
of you, Harry Potter, you're truly a hero,” she whispered to
him.

“This hero needs a good old
fashioned wank.” He said, a renewed grin transversing his
face. “I'll meet you down there in a few minutes, don't wait
up.”

Ginny gave a squeeze before retreating
out the door to leave Harry to his hand job, resisting any comment
that could come into her mind.

Harry let his thoughts return to a
naked Draco as he took the steps two by two up to the Seventh Year
Dorm, which was closest to the bottom, as it was the perk of being a
7^th Year. He dashed into his dorm to find it thankfully
empty, including Seamus's bed. Pulling the curtains close, he placed
a privacy charm on them.

Laying down, he dropped his shrunken
clothes at the foot of the bed. Closing his eyes, he thought of the
blond whose life he saved. He remembered the smoothness of Draco's
chest and the small clutch of hair surrounding each nipple. He
remembered laying himself on his chest and feeling the coolness of
the body. He remembered the feel of Lil P as he pressed it into the
thigh of the other boy, including the feel of the localized hairs as
he rubbed him to get warm. That did it, Harry was hard again.

He reached down to touch himself
through the denim, running his fingers down the length of the strain
on his pants. Harry imagined that he grabbed a hold of Malfoy's and
stroked it into hardness. Unzipping his pants, as he had not put any
nickers back on, he imagined Draco returning that kiss and gazing
into those gray eyes. Stroking and pulling at Lil P, he imagined
that it was Draco's hand that touched him. Harry pulled up his shirt
and stared down the length of his body, remembering the look of
Draco's below him, and watching himself in action. Fairly quickly,
he got that toe curling feeling as he arched himself into his own
touch. Faster and faster he stroked himself so that his heart raced
and that he remembered the private smile that Draco gave him in
parting. Using both hands now, he played with himself, tugging on
the foreskin and grabbing at the base. He arches as he envisions
that it was all over the paler blond boy.

====++++++====

Part 5 A Death Eater
Interlude

Deep in the English countryside, a lone
stone cabin with a single light coming from a window sat nestled,
covered in snow. Open snowy fields to the front of the cabin and
though it is day, the woods behind it were dark and unwelcoming. On
the side facing the snow covered fields, a stone fence separated the
property from the snow. Next to the stone door, which looked
incapable of movement, a small bronze plaque with the initials CK
on it. Three snow covered oaks full and large spread over the inner
property.

Outside the stone
gate a heavily cloaked figure appeared with a pop; the hood spilled
low over the owners face, hiding it in shadow. With a tap of a wand
and a few special words, the gate unlocked itself and several magical
defenses lowered to let the figure in. The cloaked figure crossed
the yard following an existing set of worn tracks right to the front
door. At the heavy stone door, the figure tapped the wand in a
special pattern to gain entry.

With several
audible creaks, the door opened. The cabin was warm with several
occupants spaced around the main room and a fire glowing in the
fireplace to the left if the entryway.

“Is this all
that is left?” the new arrival asked, pulling his hood down to
reveal shaggy graying brown hair and a large jagged scar leading down
his right cheek.

“Since the
Dark Lord's disappearance,” not a one would say death, for they
feared a bug on the wall would tell him that they believed him dead,
“the Ministry has taken drastic action on suspected members.”
A middle aged man said, who sat a table with several goblets and
small food items laid about.

“Lucius
Malfoy is an example of what will happen to all of us. With these
comas, they are in no hurry to trial anybody,” a young blond
woman on the other side of the table commented.

“It's been a
year since the battle. He's not dead, he's just biding his time in
hiding,” a man from next to the fireplace said, the fire's glow
playing shadows on his age warn face.

“Just like
sixteen years ago, will it take another ten to hear word of him?”
the young blond woman said.

“The death of
the only one he ever feared should be a quick lure for his return.
He may lie and wait for things to quiet down, and when they feel safe
again, he will return,” said a man who stood near the entryway
door, his arms severely scarred.

“Should we
actively go looking for him? Listen to every whisper of him?”
the newest arrival said.

“The prophecy
has not been fulfilled, Harry Potter is not dead,” a middle
aged man said as he held up his goblet to take a drink.

“Only one
here knows of the prophecy,” another guy sitting by the fire
said, patting his squirming pocket. He then pulled a rat out of the
pocket. “Wormtail, come out and play,” he said dropping
the rat on the floor. Before the rat touched the ground, a short
stubby man appeared in place.

“As the Dark
Lord's most loyal servant, I've been privy to such knowledge.”
For once Wormtail looked a little taller and stood a little
straighter. “Does anyone deny my knowledge?”

No one spoke. To
say something one way or another was a fight. It was even a ballsy
thing for the rat to have declared, but he knew it was a position of
power. “After all, it was I who sought out the Dark Lord after
those long thirteen years.” He paused for dramatic effect.
“What does our resident spy say about the going ons at
Hogwarts?”

All eyes turned to
a petite brown eyed black haired woman who was taking a drink at that
moment.

After taking her
sip, she sat the goblet down on the table.“Nothing has been
spoken about the Dark Lord amongst the teachers. They morn the loss
of their headmaster still and the traitor has kept his ear to the
wind, astutely on the lookout for any hint of out activities.”

“And what of
the boy who still lives?” the young blond asked.

“Unfortunately,
he has recovered from everything and is returning to normal.”

“No love
interests?” the words were small from the young blond.
Everyone looked at her. “Just so we can use her against him at
a future time,” she shrugged.

“The Boy Who
Lives has a crush for Lucius Malfoy's boy. I've seen it myself,”
the spy said.

A conniving smirk
crossed Wormtail's face. He remembered a distant time when he had
used the love between Black and Potter to his own advantage.

“The young
Malfoy appears to have no intention to follow in his father's
footfalls. He did not come to our side when the call went out before
the battle. We may be able to use this to our advantage.” The
spy pushed a stray black hair back behind her ear.

The last to arrive
pulled out a box the size of his hand from his pocket. The box gave
a shake as he sat it down on the table. “In this box I present
a present for Hogwarts.” Everyone gathered around the table,
curiosity getting the better of them.

“What's in
the box?” one of the Death Eaters spoke what all wondered.

“Once you get
back into Hogwarts,” he said to the spy, “release it into
the hallways. The school could use a little mayhem and holiday
chaos.” He handed the spy a parchment with instructions on how
to open the box, which gave another little shaking tilt.

“It's alive”
the other young blond woman said.

“It is a
reminder of the Dark Lord's power and that we are going to make a
return,” the knowledgeable one said.

A clock on the wall
chimed the hour. Several in the room stood to leave.

“Is everyone
leaving at once?” the homeowner asked.

All rumbled that
they must be going, and exited into the snowy day.

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

I have no idea
when chapter 4 will be a whole entity, it is only in notes and
outline form now. If anyone is interested, I can send you a
completed part, and maybe you could help me edit that part.

Thans for the
patience, this story is huge, and I have to make sure I set the
storyline correctly and pace it correctly.

Thanks to those
that reviewed. Some of you had good ideas for a possible storyline.

Next in ch 4:

-the spy releases the box

-Harry offers to help Draco

-Sirius returns

-Christmas at Hogwarts
- 2
- 3
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