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

Some lines in the fifth scene of this chapter are quoted
from a scene in Harry Potter and the
Chamber of Secrets, copyright J. K. Rowling. These sentences have asterisks
before and after them.

Chapter
Four�Earnestness

�� Potter was
carrying a Dark artifact in his satchel.

�� Severus
narrowed his eyes and cast a spell that would redouble the effect of the one
already operating, which had told him of the artifact�s existence in the first
place. At once, a deep purple glow surrounded Potter�s bag. Severus had an
excuse to hiss aloud, however, because he had just reached Longbottom�s table.

�� Longbottom
peered up at him with tears in his eyes. Severus damned the fate that had made
him teacher of a class containing such an incompetent. No one in Professor
Slughorn�s classes had melted cauldrons so regularly as Longbottom, and both
his parents had been perfectly good brewers. Perhaps Bellatrix had cast more
curses than simply the Cruciatus that night she attacked Frank and Alice, in an
effort to torment Severus years later, he considered idly. On the other hand,
she had never had that kind of foresight.

�� Ten points
from Gryffindor for making your potion such an offensive color,� he said, and
swept on, to look into Potter�s cauldron. The boy looked up and met his eyes
once, then glanced away.

�� He had done
an unexpectedly good job of keeping the secret of their meetings from his best
friends, Severus thought, as he pretended to estimate the consistency of a
potion he could see at once was marginally better than what Potter normally
accomplished. Or perhaps not so unexpected.

�� When he
began to pay attention to the boy as he was rather than as the mask of James,
Severus had seen several things he had missed before.

�� Potter was
secretive. He never seemed to make the kinds of public confessions that would
announce his pranks to other Gryffindors and had made Severus an inveterate
catcher of pranksters in the past. He never bragged about the year before when
he had managed to outface�literally�the Dark Lord and that sniveling rat
Quirrell. He wore looks of anger or outrage too frequently, still, and he
showed enjoyment and pleasure and weariness, but Severus had noticed that he
could not always trace those emotions back to a single origin.

�� He kept no
diary and no journal. He wrote no revealing letters that could be intercepted. He
lied well by omission if not directly. Several times Draco had asked him
insistent questions in their brewing sessions, and Potter had turned him aside
with a remark that gave Draco a chance to brag about himself. Severus had to
admit that was deftly done. Whether Potter would admit it or not, he was
learning to manipulate people by their weaknesses.

�� And if
another voice was raised in chatter and gossip, that person was less likely to
notice that his voice was missing.

�� Severus
could see potential in the boy to become a House-crosser, as his circle of
Slytherins in school had called those Ravenclaws who learned to manipulate or
those Hufflepuffs who had courage. Of course, the very name implied too sharp a
division between Houses; Severus knew well enough that multiple traits existed
in all personalities save the simplest. On the other hand, twelve-year-olds
like Draco and Potter were apt to take the Sorting Hat�s judgment seriously and
try to live up to the mantle of bravery or cunning, intelligence or loyalty.
That Potter had willingly exercised �Slytherin� qualities was interesting.

�� He would
not see that potential drowned by a Dark artifact.

�� On the other
hand, Potter showed none of the typical signs of addiction to a powerful
magical device: restive movements, unexplained sweat and paleness, glazed eyes.
Perhaps he did not know what he had, or perhaps he planned to use it for some
specific purpose. Severus would watch over him and see what he did with it.

�� If he
displayed any of the signs, Severus would take it away.

�� If he was
ignorant of its nature, well and good.

�� If he used
it for some specific purpose�

�� Severus
gave a smile that caused several Gryffindors to whimper as he swept up to the
front of the classroom. Well.

�� If he used
it for some specific purpose, then perhaps he would like a bit of help.

*

�� You are to tell no one what I have just told
you.

�� Draco
bristled as he stared at the letter from his father. The rest of the words had
been relatively unimportant, instructions on improving in his schoolwork and a
little of the precious information about the Malfoy fortunes and influences
that Lucius doled out to his son on an irregular basis.

�� But that.

�� Why does he think I would break the secrecy
he�s enjoined on me, when he�s trusted me with more sensitive information for
years? He doesn�t have any reason for suspecting me, and yet he still does.

�� Ordinarily,
he would be tempted to excuse his father. But not this time.

�� Not when
he�d been spending a few hours each week with people who listened to him, people who trusted his brewing skills, and people
who looked at him less skeptically each time. Potter still wasn�t talking about
himself much, but Draco had expected that. It was enough for him that they
weren�t hexing each other, and that he could look forwards to the moment when
the potion would be used on Finnigan.

�� No, the
look in Professor Snape�s eyes was of real importance for him. He watched with
the same cool criticism he used in class. But his words of instruction went
deeper; he obviously saw that Draco was ready for more than the plodding idiots
who held Slytherin House back in class. And now and then he would speak a few
words of backhanded praise that Draco treasured as much as whole compliments.

�� Your dicing is, I suppose, not utterly
incompetent.

�� Crushing the maple leaves is the only method
that would work better, but textbook editors do not often see fit to put that
in.

�� A knowledgeable Potions student would do as
you have done. A very knowledge one would leave a slightly greater distance
between the wormwood and the arsenic.

�� For the
first time, Draco could feel his interest in Potions increasing to the level
that his interest in Quidditch and Potter�s friendship had. Maybe he would
become a Potions master like Professor Snape. Maybe he would use potions to
supplement the inventions that he had dreamed of creating someday.

�� He didn�t
really know what inventions he wanted to make. Beautiful ones, useful ones,
great ones. He just wanted to create something.

�� You never will.

�� Draco could
feel his scowl become more pronounced. Luckily, he was alone in his bedroom at
the moment�it was Blaise and Theo�s turn to try and instruct Vince and Gregory
in the basic theory of Charms�and there was no one to wonder why.

�� Those words
weren�t part of his own thoughts. They weren�t in the letter, either. They were
a memory of his father�s voice when Draco had got up his courage and confessed
his desire to be an inventor to Lucius.

�� Lucius
hadn�t even turned and looked at him with contempt before explaining that his
son would have better things to do. He had said that Draco never would and gone
on talking to Draco�s Mum.

�� I can do things he doesn�t know about. I can
do lots of things he doesn�t know about. And anyway, the information he�s
telling me here is something loads of people must know.

�� Probably not Potter, though.

�� His mind
made up, Draco settled down to write a letter. He wouldn�t sign it, just in
case Potter opened it when one of his nosy little friends was around. But he
wrote down the information Lucius had put in his letter, carefully rephrasing it so that no one could trace the
words back to him.

�� If his
father found out�

�� Draco
shrugged. He didn�t think Potter was the kind to blurt news like this all over
the place. If his father found out, it would have to be through someone else.

�� And in the
meantime, Potter would probably figure out who the letter came from, and it would
be another secret shared between them. Draco was getting tired of only sharing
the secret of the potion and the tips on potions-making that he fed Potter
during their time together in Professor Snape�s office.

�� He went up
to the Owlery and chose one of the school owls to deliver his message, watching
it fly away with a sense of satisfaction.

�� Yeah, loads of people must know that the
last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood girl died and the
person who did it was expelled, Draco decided as he trotted back to the
dungeons. My father couldn�t even trust
me with an important secret, could he?

�� And a
small, tightening coil of resentment in his belly that was focused on Lucius
Malfoy tightened a little further.

*

�� Where is it?�

�� Harry didn�t
respond to Ron�s frustrated shout, instead searching steadily through his
trunk. He could feel tears burning his eyes, but he blinked constantly, and
they didn�t fall.

�� Besides, it
wasn�t the loss of Tom Riddle�s diary he was crying for. It was the fact that
someone had been able to get through all the wards on his trunk and the
protective charms that he�d used after Seamus burned his possessions.

�� That meant
someone else could get in if they wanted to. It meant that Harry�s things could
never be safe.

�� He�d used
some of the same protective charms on Hedwig. Maybe she wasn�t safe, either.

�� The idea
made Harry feel short of breath. He sat down hard on the bed. Ron continued
looking under his own bed for a minute before he glanced up and saw Harry�s face.

�� Mate?� He
came towards Harry and gingerly patted his shoulder. �What�s wrong?�

�� Harry gave
him a glance that he knew was dull. �Someone had to know the password in order
to enter the room,� he said simply. �The person who took the diary was a Gryffindor.�

�� Ron blinked
and rocked back on his heels. �Bloody hell,� he said after a moment, and Harry
looked automatically behind him for Hermione, who always seemed to know when
Ron was cursing and would show up to scold him. She wasn�t there this time, though.
�I didn�t even consider that. I thought someone from Slytherin would show up to
steal it.�

�� Harry
nodded absently. After the memory that the diary had shown him, he had to think
that Hagrid had been the one to release the creature from the Chamber of
Secrets and kill the girl that mysterious letter had told him about, but he
hadn�t liked the look of Tom Riddle, either. His voice was too soft, and he had
too much confidence in going after Hagrid and reporting him. Why did he know
about Hagrid and the Chamber of Secrets in the first place? And why didn�t he
show more grief for the girl who had died?

�� Besides, Mr. Weasley said never to trust
anything when you can�t see where it keeps its brain.

�� Well,� Ron
said, with a huge sigh, �I reckon it doesn�t matter. The attacks have stopped,
and you know that if Hagrid let the
creature out to attack someone, he didn�t do it on purpose. Besides, Dumbledore
trusts him, and that�s good enough for me.�

�� Harry
nodded absently. He still wanted to cry and gnash his teeth, but he also didn�t
want to show too much anger, in case someone�

�� Like Seamus�

�� figured out
that Harry was upset about the thief getting into his trunk. Harry would still
remain indifferent for right now. The diary wasn�t a huge loss.

�� Besides, he
could ask Hermione about protective charms. She would probably be thrilled to
have an excuse to do research.

�� And, he thought suddenly, if we clean up the room before Seamus or
anyone else gets back, then they don�t need to know that someone was here and
looked through my things at all.

�� Come on,�
he told Ron, leaping to his feet. �I�ll give you my dessert tonight if you help
me put away these things before anyone else comes in.�

�� Ron
brightened and began to snatch tossed-about pillows off the floor.

*

�� Draco felt
silly waiting for Potter outside the hospital wing. He paced back and forth,
scuffing a toe on the floor and pretending when anyone came by to lean against
the wall and scowl into the distance. They would think he was waiting for a
friend.

�� Well, I am.

�� But
everyone Draco would consider a friend from Slytherin House was aware that no
one from Slytherin was in the infirmary ill right now. And neither was Potter.

�� But Draco
had heard about Granger being Petrified, and he was aware, at least a little,
of what that was going to do to Potter.

�� So he
waited.

�� Potter and
Weasley exited together, and Draco ducked out of sight. Weasley�s face was red,
and he looked like he wanted to hit something. Draco rolled his eyes. Of course.

�� Potter�s face
concerned him more. He looked blank and pale, the way he had right after
Finnigan burned his things. Draco thought he was trying to either hide his
emotions, in the way he was no good at, or else getting himself ready to do
something grand and stupid. Like the way he�d gone after the Dark Lord last
year, Draco thought. He didn�t know all the
details, but there had been a trace of the Dark Lord in the school, or at least
a Death Eater.

�� And
suddenly a possibility so horrible occurred to Draco that his jaw fell open and
brushed his chest.

�� What if he�s going after the monster in the
Chamber of Secrets because it Petrified Granger?

�� It was the
sort of stupid thing Potter would do, and Draco reacted without thought. He
stepped into the open and called to Potter.

�� He whirled
around, of course. But so did Weasley, and he looked suspicious at best, his
red face quickly acquiring an expression of rage.

�� What are you doing here?� he demanded. �Come to
talk bollocks about your daddy�s Galleons
at Hermione? It won�t do any good, you know. She can�t hear you.� Abruptly, he
looked away, blinking, and Draco knew he was trying to control tears.

�� Draco
ignored him for the present�this was more important�and spoke to Potter, who
was trying his best to look as if they had never spent any time together. �You
can�t go after the monster from the Chamber of Secrets yourself,� he said. �You
don�t have enough magic to defeat whatever it is.� He took a deep breath.
�You�ll need Dark Arts to fight it. And I can help you with that.�

�� Potter
started as though Draco had pressed one of the Weasel twins� pranks into his
hand. His shock of dark hair that he kept long on purpose to cover his scar
fell into his eyes as he stared more and more. Annoyed, Draco walked quickly
past him, gesturing for them to follow. They needed someplace more private to
talk.

�� Weasel
threatened him the whole way there. Draco continued to ignore him. So long as
he could hear two sets of footsteps following and not one, then Potter had not
dashed off on his own like an ignoramus again, and that was fine.

�� When they
reached an alcove on the second floor, Draco cast a warding spell, pretending
not to notice Weasley�s surprised gasp. He turned around with a faint smirk,
though. Maybe that would convince them that he knew powerful magic and could
help.

�� I already
helped once,� he said bluntly. Best be
blunt with Gryffindors, it�s the only thing they understand. �I sent you
that letter about the girl who died when the Chamber of Secrets was last
opened.�

�� So it was you,� Potter breathed. He had a
little emotion in his face now, like starved hope.

�� Draco
heroically refrained from rolling his eyes. Yes,
one must be blunt with Gryffindors. I did think he would have figured that one out.

�� And how
did you know about that?� Weasley demanded.

�� My father
told me,� Draco said. It really was as pleasant as taunting to ignore Weasley�s
spluttering and continue speaking to Potter, he thought. It made him and Potter
seem like adults whilst Weasley was a child. �I want to help. You promised me
an adventure with you, remember?�

�� Potter�s
eyes widened. He really had forgotten all about that, then. Draco found himself
obscurely offended, more than he would have if Potter denied their friendship
in front of Weasley.

�� This could
be a very dangerous adventure,� Potter whispered, low enough that Weasley had
to stop his whinging to hear.

�� I don�t
care.� Draco folded his arms so they couldn�t see his hands shake. He didn�t
care as much as he wanted to be with Potter, but he was still afraid. �Take me
along.�

�� Potter
licked his lips. �All right,� he said. �But I need other spells from you before
you teach us the Dark Arts.�

�� Harry!� Weasley burst out, but Potter
ignored him, too.

�� I need
more powerful and protective warding spells,� Potter said. He gestured at the
diagonal line of light that shielded the mouth of the alcove. �Like the one you
just cast, in fact. And I need a spell that will shield us from sight whilst we
try to find out what happened to Hermione. They�re supervising us too closely
for us to just sneak around.� A bitter smile touched his face. �And since
Seamus burned my Invisibility Cloak, we can�t use that.�

�� Done,�
Draco said instantly. His father had trusted him with the incantation to the
Disillusionment Charm, and after many unsuccessful tries that summer, Draco had
finally managed to perform it. He turned away from Potter and Weasley, raising
an eyebrow when they stared at him. �Well? We need some place more private than
this to practice.�

�� The professors
will stop us,� Weasley objected.

�� Draco gave
him a superior smile. �Not when I cast that spell I�m going to show Potter,� he
said, and then his eyes rested, deeply challenging, on Potter. He was the one
who would make the real decision here, whether Weasley knew it or not.

�� Potter
raised his head. His eyes shone like a hunting dog�s, and he nodded, once.

�� Draco
nodded back, and, finally feeling adult and part of something, dissipated the
ward to lead them away.

*

�� Harry stood
outside Hagrid�s hut under the Disillusion Charm, or whatever it was called,
that Malfoy had taught them, Malfoy on his right and Ron on his left, and
heard, primarily, the terrified beating of his heart.

�� He and Ron
had decided that they had to talk to Hagrid about the attacks since Hermione
was Petrified, even though in his heart of hearts Harry still didn�t believe
Hagrid had anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets. So they�d cast the
Disillusion Charm on themselves and come down to the hut, Malfoy tagging along.

�� They�d
arrived�only to find Dumbledore there and an odd-looking man that Ron said was the
Minister of Magic, Mr. Weasley�s boss.

�� They were
talking about taking Hagrid away to Azkaban.

�� Harry felt
faint, sick to the point where he didn�t think he could stand. He had to lean
against the solid wall of the hut and breathe very fast.

�� Someone had
broken into his things again, and Hermione was Petrified, and now Harry was
losing another friend to prison. It
felt like a bad dream. It felt like something he couldn�t recover from.

�� It felt
like something he needed help to face.

�� But where am I going to get that help? he
thought, wiping at eyes that wanted badly to stream�and that was another, minor
grief pressing on him. He didn�t cry. He wasn�t supposed to cry. Crying only
made things worse and made him a baby. It�s
not like Snape or McGonagall could give me help for this, and Dumbledore�s
letting them do it!

�� A hand
touched his elbow. Harry looked automatically at Ron, only to find him
listening to the conversation with a frown on his face. Then he realized the
supporting hand came from Malfoy. Malfoy tilted his head at the hut, though,
and Harry reckoned he thought listening to the conversation was important, too.
Harry swallowed his weakness and joined them.

�� Someone had
knocked on the door. Dumbledore had answered the knock, and�

�� And Lucius
Malfoy stepped into the hut.

�� Next to
Harry, Malfoy gasped. Harry nudged him in the ribs to shut him up.

�� His body
moved before his thoughts did. Those were
slow and sticky and running in treacle. He had to wonder what Lucius was doing
here, and he had to wonder if Malfoy had known about this, and he had to wonder
if Malfoy would care even if he did, or maybe this was a trap, and the
tentative truce Harry had thought was growing between them was just a lie�

�� *�Already
here, Fudge,�* Lucius said. * �Good, good��*

�� *�What�re
you doin� here?�* Hagrid shouted, and Harry felt a moment�s gladness. At least someone is standing up to them! *�Get
outta my house!�*

�� *�My dear
man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your�er�d�you
call this a house?�* Malfoy looked around with an expression of such disdain
that Harry realized in a moment where Draco had learned his sneers from. *�I
simply called at the school and was told the headmaster was here.�*

�� *�And what
exactly did you want with me, Lucius?�* It was Dumbledore who spoke now, his
eyes angry enough that Harry started silently cheering him on, too. He had to
stop this, didn�t he?

�� *�Dreadful
thing, Dumbledore,�* and Malfoy removed a long scroll of parchment from his
robes and snapped it in front of the Headmaster, *�but the governors feel it�s
time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension�you�ll find all
twelve signatures on it. I�m afraid we feel you�re losing your touch. How many
attacks have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn�t it? At this rate,
there�ll be no more Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an
awful loss that would be to the school.�*

�� He�s not even pretending to be sorry, Harry
thought, looking at the smirk on his face. I
hate him. I hate him.

�� The hatred
settled in his stomach, dull and bitter, and stayed there as he listened to the
Minister make an ineffectual protest and Malfoy insist that Dumbledore had to
leave. And then it turned inwards, and Harry wondered about something else.

�� What am I doing standing here next to the
son of a man I hate?

�� He became
aware that Draco was squeezing his hand hard enough to hurt. Harry shuffled a
step away from him, but didn�t say a word. He wouldn�t take his hand away right
now only because that would cause a scuffle.

�� And there
were words that were important to listen to. Hagrid said that anyone who wanted
the truth only had to follow the spiders. Dumbledore said he would only really
have left Hogwarts when there were none left loyal to him. Harry duly
remembered the words, but his inner turmoil consumed almost all his attention.

�� Maybe he doesn�t agree with his father on
everything, but I�ve heard him say things about half-bloods and Hermione that�

�� And the information he gave us came from his
father.

�� Harry had
made his mind up by the time everyone left Hagrid�s hut and they could release
the Disillusion Charms. Draco turned to him with his face wild and pale, and
Harry felt remotely sorry for him.

�� He wanted an adventure. This was his
adventure.

�� I swear I
didn�t know he was going to be there,� Malfoy said, so rapidly it took Harry a
minute to understand the words. �Please, you have to believe me. Father didn�t say anything about that in his
letters to me. He�s been hinting at some big thing the governors are going to
do for weeks, but I didn�t know about this. Please.�

�� The last
few words came out as a desperate cry, and Harry did find himself believing
Malfoy. But that didn�t change his mind on the most important thing. They�d
still have to leave Malfoy out of their search for the Chamber of Secrets. There
was simply too much chance that he might betray them to his father. He probably
wouldn�t mean to, but Harry thought it would happen.

�� Besides, it�s not fair to ask him to make a
choice between me and Lucius.

�� All
right,� he said, over Ron�s indignant protest. �I accept that.�

�� You do?�
Malfoy was looking at him as if he, too, believed Harry was the savior of the
world. It made Harry bloody uncomfortable.

�� I just won�t tell him about the Chamber of
Secrets and the way we�re investigating it, that�s all. Ron and I will follow
the spiders, but he doesn�t need to know.

�� I do,�
Harry said firmly.

�� Malfoy
edged nearer to him with a weird smile on his face. Harry felt briefly sorry
for him. Maybe he wasn�t that close to the other Slytherins after all. Maybe
Harry was the first real friend he�d ever had.

�� But Hermione was there first, he thought.
And Hagrid. And I still have to choose
them, if I have to make the choice.

�� Thank
you,� Malfoy whispered.

�� Harry
clapped a hand over Ron�s mouth and led him away with a nod to Malfoy. When Ron
burst out into spluttering noises, Harry turned to face him and looked him dead
in the eye.

�� I�ve been
having some talks with Malfoy during Snape�s detentions,� he said, knowing he
had to tell part of the truth. �He�s not as bad when he just talks about
potions. And I think he does want to help.�

�� Why?� Ron demanded. �Even worse, why you
would you trust that git?�

�� Because
he�s jealous,� Harry said, this time knowing what Ron would believe. �Of you,
and me, and our friendship, and of not being Gryffindor. He wants to have
adventures, too.� He took a deep breath. �But there�s no way I�m letting him
help us follow the spiders, or look for help for Hermione.�

�� Ron
gradually calmed down, the red fading from his face as they jogged back to the
school together. �Good,� he said at last. �Because I�d have to think you really
had gone right mad if you did.�

�� Harry gave
a small smile. �No. Malfoy�s good enough in his place and in his way, but he�s
not ready for this.�

�� Ron gave
him the first smile Harry had seen since Hermione was Petrified. �That�s right.
Only best friends on this one, right?�

�� Harry
lightly punched his shoulder. �Right.� And,
of course, he�s where I�m going to get help with this.

*

�� All his
foresight, all his training, all his carefully changed and rechanged
perceptions, and he had not foreseen it.

�� But Severus
had been too focused on the potion that he, Draco, and Potter were preparing for
revenge against Finnigan. He was still working on the concentration, adjusting
the proportions of ingredients relative to one another. He was confident it
would be done before summer. He had still wanted to make it more potent,
however, and so he had lingered over the potion during the �detentions,�
instead of listening to Potter and Draco�s conversations.

�� He had not
seen Ginny Weasley acting oddly, though, after Minerva�s announcement about her
being taken into the Chamber, he thought he should have guessed the connection
between the Chamber, the Dark artifact that had vanished from Potter�s
possession a few weeks back, and the gentle purple glow that had taken up
residence in the youngest Weasley�s bag at the same time. He had not known it
would come to this, to the message written on the wall that he was staring at: HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER
FOREVER.

�� And he had
not guessed, either, what Potter would do when he realized his best friend�s
youngest sister was missing.

�� He walked
slowly into the bathroom outside which the message was written. One of the
sinks had sunk into the floor, and a pipe, or tunnel, led down where it had
stood. Out of the darkness came a stench of slime and rot.

�� As is usual, Severus thought, his mind
putting together pieces he should not have missed, in the places where the Dark Lord chooses to reside.

�� He had
once, more than once, sensed that purple glow in the Dark Lord�s presence. It
had been thirteen years and more back, but that did not matter. He should have
remembered.

�� The Dark
Lord was a Parselmouth.

�� And the
creature from the Chamber of Secrets must be a basilisk.

�� And�last of
all the things unforeseen�Potter had gone down into the Chamber after it.

�� Severus
stood gazing steadily down into the darkness for long moments, mastering his
memories, wrapping his fear in gauze to smother it, and reteaching the surface
of his mind the glazed calm he used in Occlumency.

�� Then he
cast a Feather-Light Charm on himself and leaped into the pipe.

�� His last
thought before he left light and the surface behind was that Draco would
doubtless regret not being here.

*

�� Laie: Thank you!

�� Heyyou: I hope I continue to produce at a good rate. I
really hope to keep it to every three days.

�� Jennie:
Thank you. I will definitely expand to other years. Some years, like the third,
will have only a few chapters covering them; I�m more interested in establishing
why Harry changed his mind in this year, though.

�� Thrnbrooke: Thank you!

�� Alex_11: It�s
entirely possible. One thing Draco will need to learn is that other people cannot
give him what makes life worth living; he has to do that himself.

�� MewMew2:
Thank you!

�� linagabriev: Thank you! I�m enjoying writing Draco a lot
more than I often do. I think it helps that I started out with all the
relationships between the three characters (as well as Harry�s relationship
with his friends) firmly marked in my mind as important, so I can give them all
more depth.

�� Snape will
eventually move beyond thinking this is merely amusing; you could argue he
already has.

�� Mangacat: Thank you! You can argue that Snape is out of
practice as a spy, since he hasn�t been spying for twelve years at the
beginning of this story.

�� Lilith: Yes. Although Harry and Draco may be set for a bit
of a blowup.

Inugrl2004: Thank you! I will
continue this story until it�s finished.

�� Starfig: What a revelation to have. ;)

�� DTDY: Thank
you for reviewing!

�� Yume111:
Thank you very much for the long review! Glad that you want to continue reading
this story.

�� I also
enjoy the idea of AUs developing this way. The
changes are fairly small at first, as you can see in this chapter, but
gradually they grow larger and increase.

�� I don�t
think Snape understands his own unconscious motives very well in this story.

�� Both Harry
and Draco are going to develop in more interesting directions�Harry more �Slytherin,�
Draco more �Gryffindor,� if you want to think of it that way. Snape thinks of
Harry as a House-crosser here, but Draco will also be so.
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Inter Vivos