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Angels and Devils	By : Beren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16945 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
Title: Angels and
Devils

Chapter: Fallout 08/10

Author: Beren (aka Didi)

Email: beren.writes@gmail.com

LJ: http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=beren_writes

Wordcount: 5375

Pairing: Harry/Draco

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created
and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury
Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money
is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warnings: This story is set post OOTP and therefore has SPOLIERS. If
you don’t want to know anything that went on in book five do not read this
story.

Summary: Harry defeated Voldemort: his act of heroism is famous throughout
the wizarding world. He’s trying to finish his final year at Hogwarts in
peace, but something peculiar is happening to him, something he never would
have expected. It's all rather embarrassing and making his life very complicated.

Author's Notes: This fic has Veela!Draco and lots of other things that
appear to have become fandom clichés, which was part of the point in
writing it :). I've had great fun with this fic, trying to explore ideas in
a slightly different way than I have seen before. It may have Veela!Draco, but
it is all from Harry POV in case you were wondering. I will be posting in two
blocks, the first five parts now (05Jan05) and the second five parts next week.
Thanks go to Soph for the beta. I've actually had this one hanging around since
I was writing GTS.

====

Chapter 8 Fallout

Harry had woken up on Sunday
morning and found himself on a transfigured chaise in Remus' room. When he had
fallen asleep was not clear, but he and Remus had spent long hours talking before
he had drifted off. The old adage that things always look better in the morning
was not true and as Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower after a leisurely
breakfast with his friend, he neither felt more cheerful nor any more relaxed
about the whole situation. If anything he was more confused than ever.

His dreams had made it
more than clear what his subconscious wanted from Malfoy. The images in his
mind were graphic, strangely resolute and very difficult to ignore. The Seraphim
in him was not ready to give up on Malfoy just because they were no longer controlled
by the mating drive. Knowing what this really meant for the future was difficult
and Harry could not shake the feeling that his life was much more complicated
now.

He walked into the Gryffindor
common room and found most of the seventh year gathered around the fire.

"Harry!" it was
Neville who saw him first and alerted the others to his presence.

He tensed ready for accusations
to fly, and was most surprised when he found himself gathered into an enthusiastic
hug by Hermione.

"Oh, Harry,"
she said, pulling back and looking him up and down, "when Malfoy was at
breakfast this morning and you weren't we were so worried. Are you okay? The
arrogant prig didn't hurt you did he?"

For a moment he just stared,
quite overwhelmed by the caring in the faces around him.

"I'm fine," he
said quietly, knowing that his internal dilemma was not exactly 'fine', but
needing to reassure his friends. "Professor Dumbledore took me to see Remus
last night, I had breakfast with him."

"So no ... uhm ...
nasty side effects then?" Hermione was obviously the lead in the group
and from the look in her eyes she had been researching again.

Harry shook his head.

"Just a bit sore,"
he replied and managed to call up a small smile from somewhere.

That made the boys grin
and most of the girls blush to the roots of their hair. Hermione slapped him
on the arm playfully for his trouble.

"For once in my life
I do not want details," she said, matching his opening gambit beautifully.

It was probably quite obvious
to his two best friends that they would need to talk about this, but Hermione
seemed content to let it rest in front of the others. Harry was grateful because
there were just some things he could not talk about in front of most of his
year even if they had all but adopted him as family.

As a group they dragged
him back over to where they had been sitting and all but forced him into a chair.
It seemed that the famous Potter brooding ability was being thwarted.

"So how was ... Malfoy
at breakfast?" Harry asked hesitantly.

He was not sure if he really
wanted to know, but at least his friends could give him an indication of what
he was in for when he next set foot in the Great Hall.

"As arsey as usual,"
Seamus replied irreverently. "Actually, come to think of it, arsier than
usual. Now that everyone knows he's part Veela the snotty bugger is flaunting
it."

"Yeah," Ron agreed
vehemently, "if I hear Pansy giggle at him one more time I'll put the dozy
cow out of her misery and save us all the pain."

"Ron!" Hermione
did not seem to like that particular line of conversation.

It was scary how well she
could sound like Molly when she wanted to. Harry for his part was fighting down
a wave of what he could only call completely irrational jealousy. He tried very
hard not to let what he was feeling show, and Hermione missed it thanks to her
focus being on Ron, but Neville was looking at him in a very speculative manner.
Maybe this was something he could not hide.

"Only if I don't get
there first," he said bluntly and most people looked rather shocked.

That had not been the response
any of his friends were expecting.

"What?" he asked
innocently. "I'm still pumped up on hormones," he tried to make it
sound as if this was perfectly normal and was something that would go away,
"I'm likely to hex anyone who so much as looks at him sideways."

"Note to self,"
Neville said seemingly taking Harry's words at face value; "don't look
at Malfoy."

This caused a laugh to
move around the group and Harry felt a little better with his friends around
him. Then there was some shuffling and a small stack of papers were placed on
his lap.

"We thought you'd
want to know what they were saying about you, Mate," Ron said with an apologetic
shrug. "We saved the Prophet for you and some of the mags. The Quibbler's
on top because Luna's dad printed the truth, so we thought you'd like to see
that first."

Harry gave his friends
a smile and tried to push the dread aside. The Prophet tended to try and be
nice about him since his defeat of Voldemort, but it was still sensationalist,
and he could just imagine what they would have made of him. He had no doubt
that his change in status would have been leaked on that first day, but Malfoy
had accosted him before the first edition arrived so he had seen nothing of
what the press was reporting. Poppy had not let him have the Prophet while he
was under her care.

"I think I'll read
those later," was all he could come up with as he looked at the pile.

There were bound to be
taunts from the Slytherins and funny looks from the rest of the school, along
with speculation in the press, but Harry really did not feel like dealing with
it all quite yet. He needed some normality after the last few days, and he fell
back on a childhood favourite.

"Anyone for exploding
snap?" he asked hopefully.

====

It was not until Monday
morning that Harry was forced into any kind of contact with Malfoy, or rather
Draco as his mind had taken to referring to the Slytherin no matter how he tried
not to. Monday morning meant Transfigurations, and Malfoy was one of the seventh
years taking the subject. Having specialised for N.E.W.T.s all classes were
a mixture of houses and so Harry did not even have the luxury of avoiding Slytherins
for school work, but at least under Professor McGonagall's sharp eyes there
was unlikely to be open trouble.

Harry took his seat next
to Ron and tried to be inconspicuous. It was rather like trying to hide a fire
sprite in an igloo; it worked for all of about thirty seconds. There was sniggering
and pointing from most of the Slytherins almost immediately.

"Just ignore them,
Mate," was Ron's sage advice, and Harry did his best to take it.

There was only one Slytherin
who was not poking fun to his classmates and that was Draco. However, it was
worse; Draco was acting as if he did not exist. Contrary to what he had told
his friends, Harry did not feel the insane jealousy he had in the common room
when Pansy giggled at Draco, what he felt was dejection. His mate was ignoring
him and playing up the affections of another and it had a rather detrimental
effect on his psyche.

"We will be continuing
with the transfiguration of mice into horses," Professor McGonagall drew
the class to order as she stood at the front of the room. "Remember that
your horses should only be a foot tall at this stage. Do not attempt to show
off; it will result in deducted marks."

Harry's head of House scanned
the room looking at one Ravenclaw and a couple of Slytherins to make her point.

"You may begin,"
she said and sat back down again once more.

Since he had missed a week
of school, Harry had not been part of the preliminaries for this lesson, but
he had covered the beginnings of the theory when in the hospital wing room.
Because of this he was paired with Ron for the beginning of the lesson to see
how far the class had progressed so far. Malfoy was paired with Pansy.

Hence it wasn't until about
halfway through the lesson, when they had both been given their own mouse, that
either of them had to use magic. Now Harry had felt some peculiar shifts in
his magic over the previous day, but he had assumed it was just him being touchy.
That all changed when Malfoy cast his first spell. Harry was caught by such
surprise as his own magic moved inside of him in response that he dropped his
wand.

The Slytherins laughed
at him, and Draco glared since the interruption had ruined the blond's concentration,
but for a moment Harry could not move.

"Is everything alright,
Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked from where she was assisting Dean
with his wand action.

"Fine, Professor,"
Harry said, breaking himself out of his shock and bending to pick up his wand,
"sorry, Professor."

The next time Draco cast
his spell Harry was ready, but it still made him shudder slightly. It seemed
that every time Draco used his magic, Harry reacted, and it was rather a nice
feeling. It almost made him smile as he guessed that maybe Draco would experience
the same thing. It would be difficult to ignore him if he continually reminded
the Slytherin that he was there.

Taking a deep breath he
concentrated on the Transfiguration and calmly cast his spell. His eyes flicked
over to Draco to gauge the Slytherin's reaction and Harry felt his spirits fall
through the floor. There was nothing, not even a twitch to indicate that Draco
had felt anything. This was all just him; he was the infatuated idiot, and the
Slytherin was completely immune. It was almost as if he could feel the life
draining out of himself. Draco didn't care because Draco didn't feel anything.

====

"Today," Snape's
voice rang across the classroom with the usual sneer evident in the tone and
Harry tried to disappear using simple will alone, "we will be brewing an
aphrodisiac potion for use with dragons. The potion is called Secus Draconium.
Each year the seventh year class brews this potion for the Dragon reserves in
Romania, so I expect every cauldron to be excellent."

Harry tried even harder
to vanish when Snape's black eyes fell on him.

"Mr Potter, due to
your peculiarities of species," the Potion's master said rather viscously,
"your brewing capabilities would be even lower were you to come into contact
with Dragon's Breath Angel Trumpets, and hence you will be brewing a different
potion. You're instructions are on this desk."

The desk in front of Snape's
was usually reserved for demonstrations, but it was set up as a normal work
station today. Reluctantly, Harry walked towards his Potions professor and moved
into place. The look of disdain he earned for his trouble was not settling.

"Mr Malfoy,"
Snape continued in a much more pleasant tone, "due to your recent exposure
to Mr Potter's peculiarities," Harry tried very hard not to react, "you
are also excused from making the Secus Draconium. However, since your average
mark is so much higher than Mr Potter's you may take a study period."

Draco smirked at his fellow
Slytherins and then gathered his things.

"Thank you, Professor,"
Draco said politely and left without so much as a look back.

The Slytherin did not even
glance in Harry's direction and it hurt more than he liked to admit. How Draco
was acting as if he did not even exist was beyond him, and it was tearing his
heart out.

"Begin," Snape
said coldly, and Harry looked down at the parchment next to his cauldron.

For a long time he just
stared at the writing without even seeing it properly. The feelings that welled
up in him every time Draco rejected him were almost overwhelming, and nothing
seemed to matter anymore. It was as if his whole world view had shifted and
life revolved around the blond haired Slytherin.

"Mr Potter,"
Snape's voice snapped him back to the present, "has your meagre brain finally
switched off entirely?"

Harry simply swung his
gaze up to look his Potions professor directly in the eyes. He had little idea
what Snape would see in his face since he had barely looked at himself in a
mirror since Draco and he had become lovers, but whatever it was, Snape closed
his mouth and turned away. Maybe there was a line which the head of Slytherin
would not cross, but Harry could not find the will to care. Looking back at
the sheet he finally read it and turned towards the store room to pick up his
ingredients.

"Not those, Harry,"
Hermione's voice cut through the nothingness in Harry's brain as he slowly collected
what he needed for the lesson. "Those are the Angel Trumpet stamens; you'd
be high as a kite if you picked up those."

He looked at the orange
filaments over which his hand was hovering and reached instead to the petals
beyond.

"Thanks," he
said quietly and ignored the worried look his friend gave him.

It was towards the end
of the lesson when he had to return to the cupboard for a cold stored ingredient
that he looked at the stamens again. For a while he just stood there, and then,
acting on impulse he picked up a nearby test tube, scooped two of the fine filaments
into it with a spatula and corked it, before sliding it into his robes. He had
no idea what he was going to do with the flower parts, but he took them anyway.

====

For two days Harry carried
the stamens around in his pocket, and for two days he wondered why he had taken
them. Then a group of Slytherins chose to corner him as he tried to enter the
Great Hall for dinner. Their words were childish and vicious, and Harry could
not even really remember what they had said, but when Draco had walked past
them and laughed it was more than Harry could take. That was why he was sitting
at the top of the Astronomy tower, snow falling all around the charms that protected
the viewing spot from the weather, looking at the vial he had stolen.

Hermione had spent a good
ten minutes telling him about the Dragon's Breath Angel Trumpet after the Potions
lesson. It had seemed as if she felt the need to warn him about it, since he
had not appeared particularly bothered by his near miss. It turned out that
the plant had a drug like effect on magical creatures of a certain genus; the
genus to which Seraphim belonged. Their lesser cousins had been observed stoned
out of their minds on the pollen of the flower, and although no one knew the
exact effect it would have on Seraphim, it was likely to be similar.

Well just about then Harry
needed to escape reality; it was almost too much for him. He had thought himself
settled back into normal life, even with his new heritage making itself known,
but no one could have guessed what his liaison with Draco would do to him. The
balance he had managed to find since his defeat of Voldemort was gone and the
depression that had almost claimed him once was again taking him. He had not
slept in two days, since every time he closed his eyes all he saw was the disdain
Draco showed him, and he had barely eaten anything for longer.

He had pretended to eat
when he went to the Great Hall, but he was not a wizard for nothing and a variation
on a banishing charm meant that his friends were none the wiser. At other times
he used the excuse he did not want to face the Slytherins and had cried off
going to meals, instead, sneaking down to the kitchens and taking food back
to his room as if to eat it. If Ron ever looked under his bed he was going to
be in trouble.

Slowly he uncorked the
test tube and very gently tapped one of the stamens out onto a piece of parchment.
According to Hermione this was very powerful stuff for his type of magical creature,
or at least for those similar to Seraphim. House elves were related to Seraphim
distantly and Hermione had said something about Angel Trumpet pollen being about
a thousand times worse than butterbeer. Butterbeer had no affect on Seraphim;
Harry had tried, but Hermione had said that wasn't the point.

Placing the parchment on
the roof in front of where he was sitting cross-legged, Harry re-corked the
test tube and placed the vial back in his robes. If this was good he might have
need of the other stamen. Not quite sure what he was doing he reached out and
picked up the pollen covered filament between his fingers. There was a tingle
almost immediately and he looked at his yellow stained finger tips to see if
anything would happen.

For a few seconds he did
not feel any different at all and he was ready to throw the thing away as being
a stupid idea, until that was it suddenly went blue. Or rather as he looked
up and around at where he was sitting, his vision flicked to the most peculiar
level where the warm light around him was now cold greys and blues rather than
torch yellows and oranges.

Acting with complete abandon
he did something that had his rational brain been working properly would have
struck even a foolish Gryffindor as very stupid. He popped the stamen onto his
tongue and the world exploded in colour.

Harry lost all track of
time as his world vanished into unreality and he had no idea how long he watched
rainbows or mentally chased bubbles, but when his mind gave him at least a glimpse
of his real surrounding he was standing outside the protective charms on the
tower, on the balustrade, looking out over the white Hogwarts grounds. Everything
he had been feeling came back with such intensity that it made him want to scream,
and it was as if his soul was tearing apart.

He was barely holding on
as he swayed on his precarious perch, and he reached into the wind as if it
could take away his pain. The drug in his system had taken away his hurt and
anger for a few minutes, maybe more, but now it brought it into sharp focus.
He could not bare it and he desperately needed release. Wobbling like a new
born he tore at his clothes, throwing his jumper, tie and shirt out into space.
They were caught by a gust and tumbled into the darkness to disappear from his
view as he stared after them.

He wanted to disappear
too. Let his trouble go in the darkness and in his drug reality he did the only
thing left to him. Jumping in to space he cried his rage to the world and began
to plummet downwards. Falling he felt momentarily free and the feeling was wonderful.

Halfway down self-preservation
kicked in, because no matter how he wanted the pain to go away, there was a
part of Harry that did not want to die. His wings flared and his descent slowed
rapidly, but he was too out of control for a good landing. The ground was frozen
and only covered in a light dusting of snow so when he hit it, it was very hard.
One ankle folded under the strain causing him to cry out in pain and he fell
awkwardly, unable to control his movements properly with the drug affecting
his system. The arm that landed under him gave a rather unpleasant snap and
for a moment the world flipped out.

Harry came back to himself,
or at least the best he could do at the moment, lying in the snow, crying. The
mental and physical pain was too much even for the almost indomitable Gryffindor
spirit and he did not even try and get up. His will to live might have saved
him from the fall, but as yet it could not force him off the ground, or even
bring him to retract his wings.

"Potter, bloody hell,
what are you doing?" the familiar voice was so unexpected that for a moment
Harry thought he was hallucinating again, but then a hand touched his shoulder
and he looked up to see a very worried looking Draco.

"I can't do it,"
was all Harry could say, tears still streaming down his face.

His voice sounded slurred
and strange even to his own ears, and the expression on Draco's face seemed
to indicate that the Slytherin had heard this too.

"Ye gods, Potter,"
Draco said pointedly, but without his usual sneer, "you're wasted. Where
the hell is your shirt?"

"Blew away,"
Harry replied, since it was the truth.

His companion looked around
at the gently falling snow flakes.

"There's no wind,
Potter," Draco said exasperatedly.

This was true on the ground,
but of course up higher it was not so sheltered. Trying to point this out Harry
went to move and cried out in pain as his arm complained.

"Harry, you're hurt,
why didn't you tell me?"

The agony in his arm almost
seemed to vanish as he looked up into a face that cared. Deep inside Harry something
that had almost extinguished completely burst into life again as hope burned
in his soul. Draco had called him Harry; albeit in a moment of shock, but the
Slytherin had used his first name.

"How did you find
me?" Harry asked, needing to know more than anything in the world.

"I was on rounds,"
the answer came too quickly and Harry knew a lie when he saw one.

"Liar," he said
vehemently, forgetting his injuries and everything else as he stared into Draco's
grey eyes.

For a moment the Slytherin
looked as if he was going to pull away, and then for a second the mask broke.

"I felt your magic,"
Draco said quietly, and Harry might have laughed, but he moved again first and
unceremoniously fainted.

====

Harry woke slowly with
the worst headache he could remember since killing the Dark Lord. No hangover,
not even his seventeenth birthday celebrations courtesy of the Twins smuggling
in firewhiskey, could compare to the pounding in his head, or the needles in
his eyes as morning light stabbed at him mercilessly.

"Drink this,"
a very stern voice said and he knew he was in trouble.

When Poppy used that tone
she was very upset, but he had no brain power to dwell on it as gentle hands
lifted his head and helped him drink some foul smelling concoction. It might
have smelt and tasted terrible, but the moment it hit his stomach Harry felt
some relief.

"Dragon's Breath Angel
Trumpets, Mr Potter!" Poppy scolded as he finally took a look around. "What
were you thinking?"

She was holding the test
tube with the other stamen. Harry felt suddenly very ashamed, but he clawed
onto all his courage to meet his healer's eyes. Something had shifted in him
last night, and he felt the new spirit burning within him, but first he had
to face up to what he had done.

"I wasn't thinking,"
he admitted quietly, knowing that he had been an idiot, "I just wanted
the pain to go away."

Poppy looked shocked and
then very worried. She sat down on the edge of his bed, something she never
did except in the most unusual circumstances.

"Harry," she
said quietly, placing a hand over his, "were you trying to kill yourself?"

"Oh no," he promised
quickly, seeing the anguish in her eyes, "I jumped off the Astronomy tower,
but I didn't want to die."

"The Astronomy tower?"
Poppy sounded shocked. "Oh good god, we thought you had just been flying
under the influence."

She looked so upset that
Harry pulled himself into a sitting position and reach out a hand onto her shoulder.
His head pounded some more for his trouble, but Poppy was far more important
than his comfort.

"I didn't mean to,"
he told her earnestly, "it just sort of happened. Flying is the only thing
that makes me forget; I didn't mean to hurt myself."

"Oh Harry," Poppy
said and dragged him into a hug, "why?"

The lump that appeared
in Harry's throat from seemingly nowhere was mightily hard to talk around and
he found himself swallowing several times before he could reply.

"I thought he didn't
care at all," he said quietly, "that he didn't feel anything, but
he does, Poppy, he does. He came for me. All I have to do is make him see."

For a while Poppy did not
reply, but then her hug tightened slightly.

"Oh, my dear child,"
she said as she held him close, "I hope you are right."

====

If anyone in Gryffindor
noticed the sudden change in Harry they did not comment, but he doubted they
had missed it. He had taken Ron and Hermione aside and explained everything
that he was able to about what had happened, and told them that he wanted to
try and at least be friends with Draco. He could not tell them exactly why and
he had no idea how he was going to do this since the Slytherin had gone back
to ignoring him, but Harry knew now that Draco was hiding what he was really
feeling. The true complexities of what he felt for Draco were confusing and
he could not explain them to himself, let alone anyone else, but he told his
friends a little of it. They were still unaware how deep his feelings were and
where he saw them going, but Ron and Hermione now understood some of it.

Since he had admitted to
taking what was for Seraphim a controlled substance and jumping off the Astronomy
Tower, Hermione and Ron had barely let him out of their sight. He was sure Hermione
had a charmed watch on him at meal times since he had also confessed his not
eating, and at one time he might have resented it, but now he figured he deserved
it. He only eventually complained when Ron formed a habit of following him to
the loo.

The last Wednesday of term
was Gryffindor's second match of the Quidditch season, and as luck would have
it they were facing Slytherin. For once Harry did not dread going up against
Draco; he relished it.

The day dawned bright and
clear and from the moment he climbed out of bed, Harry was almost buzzing with
excited anticipation. Over the few days since his brush with a drugged out haze
Harry's display instincts had come back. They were no where near as strong as
before, but his mate was not playing the game properly and he felt as if he
needed to prove himself to Draco somehow. His marks, which had sunk the previous
week, were back to top form, and he had been flying like his life depended on
it in the last couple of practices. He was determined to impress Draco, no matter
what it took.

The game started as usual
and Harry hovered over the pitch, keeping himself in Draco's eye-line. The Slytherin
Seeker was obviously still trying to ignore him, but unless Draco wanted to
lose the game because of not paying attention he had no choice but to look.
Harry took to weaving across the sky, doing little test dives and simply showing
off his turning skills. His eyes were darting all over the pitch for the Snitch,
but he knew where Draco was at all times as well.

When the Snitch finally
showed itself it was up by the Slytherin goal and Harry set off as if he was
being chased by a dragon. Draco was after him in a second and Harry had to hold
back his shout of delight at the thrill of the chase. Flying he was free, and
his wing nubs twitched, wanting to be part of this, but he held the Seraphim
in check. He would display for Draco, but he would not use his alternate nature
directly.

He let Draco catch up until
they were broom to broom and then Harry surged into a roll to bring himself
up and under the goal. He barely missed a bludger as it powered towards him
from one of the Slytherin beaters, but an inch was as good as a mile when it
came to Quidditch. Then he was almost on it; the snitch was in front of him,
but so was Draco, coming from the side. They almost collided, pulling up at
the last moment, losing the Snitch but both moving fast back into the sky.

Harry could not help himself
as he grinned at Draco, the excitement of the game and the excitement of pursuing
his mate mixing in his blood to make him feel completely alive. Draco appeared
perturbed for a moment and then as they levelled out once more, inclined his
head. It seemed they understood each other, at least partially.

The Snitch kept itself
hidden for another half an hour, over which time both teams scored several times,
and Goyle was almost sent off for fouling Harry. If Harry had not been so fast
the bat would have hit him, but he rather enjoyed the vaguely impressed look
that passed over Draco's face just after the incident so he was not too fazed.

The small golden ball was
fluttering near to the ground in the middle of the pitch when Harry saw it again
and he did not hesitate. Without thinking he dropped towards it like a giant
bird on its prey. He was strong, he was worthy, he had to win to prove his worth
to his mate, and his world narrowed to the Snitch. There was a collective gasp
from the crowd as he plummeted towards his prize and it never even occurred
to him that if he did this wrong he could end up seriously hurt.

For the first time in the
game he lost track of Draco, but he knew all eyes would be on him. It was almost
as if he had startled the Snitch, like a hawk coming out of the sun and the
little ball had frozen in fright. It never even moved as he reached out and
grabbed it before swooping along the ground with millimetres to spare.

The Gryffindor stands went
crazy and Harry looked up, holding the Snitch aloft, to find that Draco was
only a few feet away from him. There was a vaguely confused look of shock on
the Slytherin's face, and an almost completely hidden admiration in Draco's
eyes. Harry knew he had done what he set out to do and he was pretty sure Draco
had received the message. He did not try and stop the wide smile he showed the
crowd.

End of Chapter 8
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Angels and Devils