Touching the Untouchable

Author’s note: **Small detail changed in Chapter 11: Lucius and Snape did not take the Dark Mark at the same time (I was mistaken on that; sorry!) According to Snape, the only reason Narcissa didn’t take the Dark Mark when Lucius did (before Snape did because Snape was only a fourth-year after Lucius and Narcissa left Hogwarts) was because Voldie didn’t want women in his ranks (chauvinistic bastard…didn’t really expect less, though)**

Oh my god, this chapter didn’t turn out AT ALL like I expected. Either I’m getting better at Legilimency or Snape is losing his Occlumency touch because, despite the enormous amount of research that went into his section, he poured his heart and soul out to me. I merely copied it down, so now we find out exactly what he’s been hiding all these years. Well, most of it. (Gotta leave something for later, right?)

And right now, after finding out, I feel sorry for him, even though I know maybe I shouldn’t, but don’t worry, he won’t be out-of-character-nice or anything…he doesn’t want people to feel sorry for him. This is just his life, and he is still working on dealing with it, so snarky, Slytherin Snape will be back in full force once he’s gotten himself back under control.

I did a tremendous amount of research for this chapter (well, compared to the research I did for other chapters, which was minimal with the exception of Narcissa) so I hope you guys like it. I think it fits in with the canon that was mentioned about Snape’s past. The Harry Potter Lexicon website is my best friend right now; without it, my story would be MUCH less interesting and oh-so-inaccurate.

DRACO IS NOT GOING TO DIE!!! (Neither is Harry.) It can’t be a Harry/Draco fic if either of those two hotties die! Besides, I think I would traumatize myself too much if I wrote that, even if they came to me and told me to do it. So don’t worry, my readers, I will torture them to the brink of death or insanity and back, but in the end, they will always end up together, alive, and happy. (Unless I have them die at the exact same moment, but then they will be together and happy in the Afterlife, so in a way, they will still ‘exist’ and go on to have lots of hot gay teen sex…so it’ll still be a happy ending!) But no worries, neither Draco nor Harry will die. (I make no guarantees about anyone else, but at this point in time, I do not foresee anyone’s deaths.)

But I’m such a sucker for happy endings (notice how even my darker fics have happy endings), so if that ruins the end for you…sorry. Life has enough unhappiness that my fan fiction is going to end happily, damn it! haha
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Touching the Untouchable by Graballz Chapter 12 The Past Influences the Present


Severus Snape left his classroom and headed straight for his office. He slammed the door shut and locked with an extra-strength Locking Charm. He was feeling very shaky, which unnerved him, but the damn brat had just pushed him too far! He went to his bookcase and reached inside one of his cauldron bookends to pull out a flask. Severus, being the expert Potions Master that he was, brewed his own alcohol every now and then. He was by no means a drinker; he had lived too long as a spy to even think of being out of control, but he did enjoy a relaxing sip on especially rough days. After the conversation he just had with his godson, Severus made a swift decision that this was indeed a rotten day. He would have preferred to watch the blonde brat moon over Harry Potter instead of wounding his godson like he knew he just had; yes, seeing his Slytherin in the arms of the insufferable Gryffindor was sickening and disgusting and wrong…but even the heartless Professor Snape could see just how purely happy the two boys made each other. Severus never thought he’d see the day that he would actually prefer to puke rather than fight, but there was nothing honorable, good, or pure about the things he had just screamed at Draco, things that he had sworn he would never give voice to.

He unscrewed the cap of his flask and downed a mouthful, sighing as the rich flavor slid smoothly down his throat, taking the edge off of his current self-deprecating mood. The conversation had gotten out of hand and turned into an insult free-for-all before Severus realized it…no, that wasn’t true, and he knew it. As much as he ragged on Potter for taking responsibility for his actions, Severus would be damned before he made excuses for his own mistakes. The discussion had started out normally enough; Draco had always been slightly cheeky with him, even knowing (well, probably especially knowing) how it irked the Potions Master. The first insult to Narcissa was Severus’ Slytherin instinct to go for the weak spot in order to get the edge on his opponent, whether the opponent was a prisoner being interrogated or his own godson. He tried to make up for it by being honest, and the insolent cur turned snippy on him. He realized that the comment about Draco not being able to handle Harry’s attempted suicide by himself was out of line; he knew it at the time, too, and had tried to get the conversation back on track.

Apparently he had pushed too far this time, because Draco didn’t respond to reason and exploded into a very Gryffindorish outburst (according to Severus). He had never been described as a patient man, and he had been very close to shaking the blonde. He was about at the end of his rope, anxious to keep Draco at Hogwarts this weekend without disillusioning him to the real character of his beloved mother. A small part of Severus’ brain was dryly reflecting the irony of the ONE TIME that Draco should accept advice without question, he balks. He really was a Slytherin, through and through, even if he was missing one very big, important piece of the puzzle that the Potions Master was desperately trying to keep from him.

Severus stared at the flask bitterly. Draco, being Draco, had had years of practice upsetting Snape. As much as he loved his godson, he was a walking reminder of the cruelty and viciousness that were the combined forces of Lucius and Narcissa, and hearing Draco defend even one of them, when he had no idea what they were really like, made Severus want to tell the boy exactly why he shouldn’t stand up for them or go back to Malfoy Manor. In his anger, he lashed out and spilled some of the Malfoy family secrets that Draco had never heard before; he should have left the room and didn’t. Maybe Draco didn’t understand why the accusation of being a liar sent Severus into a four-color, full-blown rage, but he had said the magic words, and before Severus could check himself, he was screaming at Draco. It only just now registered with the Potions Master that he had actually made his Slytherin, Malfoy godson cry.

Making children cry was nothing new or startling for Severus Snape, one of the most feared professors at Hogwarts. Truth be told, he actually enjoyed it most days. The Hufflepuffs were almost too easy; Severus could generally reduce any of them to whimpering with a well-timed and steady glare. The Ravenclaws were a bit tougher. Professor Snape wasn’t as hard on them because they DID know the answers, most of the time. He supposed that his own Slytherins might have broken down in tears alone in their dorm rooms after a particularly ruthless Potions class, but Merlin help the Slytherin who dropped his or her mask in public. It wasn’t that he never yelled at his House’s students, but they were exceptionally well-trained to be able to handle it. The Gryffindors gave Severus the most perverted pleasure, especially Potter. Being Gryffindors, they held out longer than the Hufflepuffs, which Severus took as a challenge, but unlike the Slytherins, he could tell exactly when they were about to break, and that was most satisfying. To his surprise, the Weasley girl was one of the tougher nuts of that family to crack (her brother Ron had been relatively easy in comparison), even though Severus had the distinct honor to claim that he had made every single Weasley child cry in class at least once. With Ginny, it had been ONLY once, and for a very brief time. He didn’t feel as good making Granger cry, since she was the only one of the Gryffindor bunch who could actually come up with a correct answer. But Potter was a completely different story. He had the distinct misfortune of reminding Severus of the cruel, insufferable, arrogant James Potter, with Lily Evans’ eyes. In Potter, Severus Snape exacted revenge for the humiliation he suffered at the hands of James Potter while they themselves were students at Hogwarts. With the one possible exception of seeing Harry Potter with his arm slashed open, Severus liked nothing better than to make Harry miserable as payback for the past.

* * * * * *


The past was a complicated mess that Severus preferred not to think about, yet at the same time, could not let go of. Born a half-blood, his Muggle father took great care to suppress his son’s wizarding tendencies with threats, violence, and abuse. Severus grew up without any friends, paranoid, and suspicious because that was what it took to survive his father’s horrible temper. Being plucked from a life of isolation and thrust into a snake pit of his own peers was a very large shock to Severus’ system, but he was sorted into Slytherin without hesitation. Lacking the social skills that everyone else seemed to possess, Severus started his education as a loner, an outsider, watching but never drawing attention to himself, until James Potter seemed to make it his mission to torment the quiet, withdrawn teenager. In his own house, Lucius Malfoy was the undisputed leader of Slytherin while James Potter was the ever-popular Gryffindor. Both were pure-bloods from old wizarding families, but Lucius was four years older than both Severus and James. He resented both Lucius and James for being well-liked; he couldn’t understand why because they were both arrogant and mean, and yet they each had beautiful women in their lives before their time at Hogwarts was up. James was also increasingly talented at Quidditch, and as they got older, he began to flaunt it in Severus’ face more and more.

Both Lucius and Narcissa were in their fifth year when Severus began as a shy eleven year old, and he met James Potter, who was also in his first year, shortly thereafter. Lucius was never publicly nasty to Severus while at Hogwarts (although after they were both adult Death Eaters, Malfoy had shown just how venomous he was), but he also didn’t defend Severus when James Potter began to torture him. Severus received lecture after lecture from his blonde leader about the proper behavior of a Slytherin, how a Slytherin must never be gotten the best of (especially by a Gryffindor), and how a Slytherin should never show weakness or defeat in front of others. Severus had never smiled much in his life, and it was relatively easy for him to assume a stoic expression that was only replaced with outright rage whenever James Potter was around.

As if his problems with James (and therefore, indirectly, with Lucius) weren’t enough, Severus had also never been around girls before, and Narcissa Black had been the epitome of Aphrodite, Cleopatra, and every other beautiful woman history had ever mentioned. Narcissa Black was in the same year as Lucius, even though age-wise, she was one year younger than her future husband. They were both fifth-years when Severus arrived at Hogwarts and a couple, but that didn’t stop Severus from thinking that Narcissa hung the moon, at first. He had been way too shy to ever initiate a conversation with such Perfection, but Narcissa went out of her way to flirt with the stringy-haired first-year. He wouldn’t understand why until his third year, but at the time, he wanted to be liked and accepted so badly that he did his best to be charming and suave, even if most of the time, he came across as a stuttering ninny. He knew that Narcissa was with Lucius, but he privately reveled in the fact that the Slytherin leader’s girlfriend acted so interested in HIM, more or less behind her boyfriend’s back. He had gotten so caught up in infatuation that he didn’t notice Narcissa’s use of him as an errand boy; he was so grateful to be noticed that he did anything she asked without question. It was quite ironic, actually; while Severus was being lectured on the necessity of being alert and on-guard at all times by Lucius, Severus was utterly trusting and allowed himself to be vulnerable to Narcissa, and boy, did he pay the price for that later.

Severus had an uneventful first year at Hogwarts, and the trouble with James was only minimal their second year, except for James’ bragging about his Quidditch skills. It was the first year of Voldemort’s first reign of terror, but Severus was so far removed (other than receiving subtle hints that, as a Slytherin, he would eventually become a Death Eater) that he didn’t pay much attention. He was finally feeling like this was the way life was supposed to go; he had a secret friendship-that-almost-bordered-on-more with the most beautiful girl in school and an increasing interest in the subject of the Dark Arts and Potions. Lucius was even friendly on occasion, and Severus’ world only got brighter when Lily Evans entered the picture. She was the same age as Severus and James, which also made her four years younger than Lucius and Narcissa, and she was very good with Potions as well. That was how she and Severus had met, actually. Lily had approached him after Potions class with Slughorn in the middle of their second year and shyly asked if he would like to get together to work on some advanced potions, since they were clearly the smartest of the class. (It had taken her all of the beginning of their second year to work up the courage to talk to the quiet Slytherin.) Severus had been appropriately flattered and only slightly suspicious, but he had agreed. They had had marvelous afternoons together over a cauldron, sharing a love for brewing and a similar distaste for the conceited Potter. He was surprised to learn that she was the witch daughter of Muggles, and she understood when he confided his inferiority complex over being a half-blood in the presence of pure-bloods like Lucius, Narcissa, and James.

Even the summer, when he was separated from his newfound friends and returned to his abusive household, couldn’t have been dampened because Severus Snape was finally feeling like he fit in. He picked up right where he left off in third-year with both girls. His friendship with Lily was quickly growing close and comfortable, while his secret ‘thing’ with Narcissa was exciting, dangerous, and passionate. It was Lucius’ and Narcissa’s seventh year; they would not be returning to Hogwarts after that. Severus didn’t like to think about his third year; it brought back very painful memories. Third year was when he watched helplessly as his world began to fall apart. The ribbing he received from James Potter increased. Among other things, Narcissa had somehow found out about his extracurricular potions sessions with Lily and had become very jealous. As much as Severus hated to remember, he had basically dropped Lily because Narcissa demanded it of him. Lily had been confused and hurt, not really understanding why her friend suddenly seemed more distant and unavailable, but the only explanation he had given her was a mumbled excuse about needing to take care of Slytherin business, and she wouldn’t understand because she was a Gryffindor. Severus felt terrible about it, but between catering to Narcissa’s every whim, being pressured by Lucius to agree to join the Death Eaters after graduation, and simmering over James, he was being pulled in so many directions, he didn’t know what to do or where to turn.

Then…then the end of the year had happened, and Severus spent the summer in pure misery, trying to come to terms with the ‘incident’ and struggling to figure out where he fit in now. He went back to his fourth year, mercifully out from under Narcissa’s captivating influence, but painfully wiser about the world and the devastations that women caused. He sought refuge in the only other person he had been close to. Broken and vulnerable, Severus tried to repair the damage to his and Lily’s friendship, but it was never quite the same. Lily had tried to get him to open up to her at first, but Severus was just freshly healing from being burned by the Slytherin goddess, and he refused to talk about the end of the previous year.

Hurt again and shut out, Lily had pulled back from him, not understanding how desperately Severus needed her, and therefore she missed the chance to help him recover fully from Narcissa, who Lily hadn’t known about. Severus realized with great sadness that Lily was wary of him; the comfortable camaraderie and trust they had shared during second-year was gone, irretrievably gone. He wanted things to go back to the way they were, but he didn’t know what to do, and by the time he did, it was too late. Their after-school potion-making sessions grew less and less frequent until they ceased altogether, both teenagers never knowing how badly the other wanted them to continue.

I t was a double blow for Severus, being betrayed by the first girl he ever loved and then losing his closest friend within a couple of years’ time, and that scarred him for life where the opposite sex was concerned. It was more than he could bear to see the hurt in Lily’s emerald eyes; that same look haunted Severus when her son stared up at him. Those eyes were forever burned into his memory, questioning and pleading with but a single word: “Why?” He would never again let himself get close to a female, or anyone really, but fifth year was what refocused him on the hatred and anger that would lead him down the path to the Dark Lord. Still in shock over his falling-out with Lily, Severus realized that James Potter had much crueler intentions that to just torture the stringy-haired teenager with Quidditch insults. Knowing that Lily and Severus had been close, and observing the change, James Potter had moved in to court Lily and flirt with her blatantly. Since they were in the same house, James quickly angled to spend more time with the red-head and sitting next to her at mealtimes in the Great Hall, touching her arm intimately, throwing his head back in uproarious laughter, and then throwing smug glances toward the Slytherin table to remind Severus what he had lost. To her credit, Lily didn’t immediately become enthralled with James Potter, but after being hurt by Severus—and the unspoken awkwardness that hung between them—it didn’t take long for her to warm up to her fellow Gryffindor, even though she didn’t officially date him until the three’s final year.

Severus didn’t realize it at the time, but upon reflection, he observed that it was quite possible that Lily had wanted to make things right between them during their fifth year. He was so busy concentrating on getting James back, though, that he didn’t see the opportunity until it had slipped through his fingers; and then, that afternoon in June, any hope (of Lily and Severus reconciling) that had stubbornly hung on was shattered when Potter and Black hung the Slytherin upside down, revealing the graying underwear to the entirety of Hogwarts (the underwear he had been wearing during the ‘incident’…but had washed many, many times since then). It was such a public humiliation for Severus in and of itself, but it brought back repressed memories of being hurt by Narcissa, and it was too much for him to deal with. Lily had been quarreling with James, defending Severus and demanding for James to let him go, and Severus, overwhelmed with guilt, shame, and regret, had snapped at her, screaming that he didn’t ‘need or want help from a girl, especially a Mudblood’ like Lily. He had wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole the second the words had left his mouth, but as a Slytherin, he was trained not to show remorse or any emotion at all, except that he had exuded anger. Everything that was good inside Severus had broken at that moment when he watched the incredulously crestfallen look cross Lily’s face, followed by furious rage, and she turned her back on him for good.

Severus Snape had turned dark, angry, and depressed the summer after his fifth year, and he returned to Hogwarts as such. He steadfastly ignored pretty much everyone, especially a certain red-headed Gryffindor, and poured all of his bitterness into studying the Dark Arts and potions. After their falling-out, the period of awkwardness, and then his hurtful words, Severus couldn’t bring himself to apologize to Lily, but he also didn’t think she would ever forgive him, even if he had, and he wasn’t about to risk more rejection. He still thought about her every time he touched a cauldron (and that was true for the rest of his life); it was a constant source of pain and pleasure. He remembered fondly the fun times they had as second-years, but even those good memories were tainted because they were always quickly followed by enormous burdens of guilt and regret. He loved potions too much to give it up, no matter how excruciating it was for him. He and James Potter were clear and complete enemies, and it was only another slap in the face for Severus when Potter saved his life during their sixth year. Sirius Black had tricked the Slytherin, much to his dismay, into going through the passage that led to the Whomping Willow during a full moon while Remus Lupin was in full werewolf mode. Before Severus could actually enter the Shrieking Shack, though, James Potter had stopped him, and it was just insult to injury when he realized that the noble but arrogant Gryffindor had saved his life. After that, he took more care to continuously avoid all things Gryffindor, and then in seventh year, Lily and James had become an official couple, so James was more occupied with her that year than tormenting Severus. And after that, Severus had graduated and joined the Death Eaters, just like Lucius had told him to, and truthfully, he was almost glad to be back under the command of the confident blonde, if for no other reason than he didn’t have to make the decisions anymore; he just did what he was told (whether it was torturing innocents, interrogating prisoners—Severus had become quite the Occlumency and Legilimency expert—or spying missions for Voldemort). It meant being near to Narcissa again, but by that point, Severus was dead inside.

Sitting at his desk in his office, Severus Snape suddenly chugged the remainder of the alcohol in his flask, overwhelmed by his memories. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about the past, but the fight with Draco, and seeing his godson in tears, triggered it all. His final insult to Draco’s mother, however true, had hurt the blonde, and Snape knew it.

You are better off without her!

Draco was better off without her. Severus was better off without her…and Lily…and Lucius, James, Voldemort, and everyone else he had ever met. He put his head down on the desk, groaning. He was exhausted and emotionally raw.

“I’m so sorry, Draco…I can’t,” he mumbled. “I can’t face her; you’re on your own. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from her.” For the first time since the summer after third-year, Severus Snape covered his face with his hands and cried.

* * * * * *

The Quidditch pitch was empty. Even if there had been a game earlier, everyone would be inside by now. Harry assumed that it was around dinnertime, but he dismissed the thought of eating. He was looking forward to just being in the air again because, on his Firebolt, all of his problems seemed miles away. In his mind’s eye, he watched as two eleven year olds raced around the field, one blonde in green robes and the other, raven-haired with red robes, trying their best to outdo the other. It made him smile, and he took off for a couple of laps, starting low to the ground and gaining height with each circuit. When flying in circles was about to make him dizzy, Harry started at one end and flew as fast as he could across the entire field, skidding to a stop (well, as much as one can “skid” while in the air, on a broom), turning, and racing himself back the other direction.

Exhilarated, Harry began the usual Gryffindor warm up flying exercises that he used with his Quidditch team. Even though no one else was around and he couldn’t play a game or even a scrimmage, working out and exercising cleansed his mood. He put himself through the paces at a rigorous rate, pushing himself to compensate for not attending his house’s Quidditch practice this week. He finally came to a halt in the middle of the field, sweat soaking his shirt and making his hair slimy. He was breathing hard but decided to do one more drill before quitting. They were called “suicides”, and he gave an involuntary shudder at the name, but they were one of his favorite drills. He Accio-ed several rocks and Transfigured them into markers, distributing them at even intervals across the field. He flew to one end of the field and mumbled “Go!” under his breath. He raced from the first rock to the second, turning on a dime as he tapped it, and dashed back to the first rock, tapping it. He then flew past the second rock to the third rock, tapped it, and went back to the first rock (and so on) as fast as he could. He was so intent on pushing himself that he didn’t notice he was no longer alone.

* * * * * *

Ron saw that there was someone already on the Quidditch field by the time he got out, but he didn’t know who it was until he got closer. He recognized the black hair, glowering as he watched the nimble Seeker dart back and forth. The other boy hadn’t noticed him, which was just fine by Ron, and he thought about just turning around and leaving. He had told Hermione that he would be flying, though, and he knew for sure that he didn’t want to go back in and have a discussion with her just yet. When Potter paused at the end of the field after completing a difficult series of “suicide” drills, Ron observed that he must have been out here for a while for his shirt to be darkened and sweat to be dripping off the boy’s forehead. Ron’s blue eyes widened when Potter turned around unexpectedly, catching sight of him. He couldn’t very well leave now, so he flew onto the field. A decidedly nervous expression crossed Harry’s tired face.

“Hi,” came the timid greeting. Ron sort of growled in his throat in response. They both hovered in the air, looking at each other, trying to decide what to do. Ron didn’t immediately go for his wand like he did the last time he saw Harry. Harry hesitated, not wanting to make the first move and upset Ron, so he tried to read his former best friend’s face and react accordingly. Ron was scowling ferociously. Harry broke the silence again.

“How-uh-h-how’s your week been?”

His week had been difficult, trying to keep up pretenses with Hermione that his therapy was working while simultaneously failing to analyze his own thoughts and feelings on the matter. Plus he had been loathe to allow his girlfriend out of his sight unless he knew exactly where she was (like now). His initial explosive anger at Potter had passed, and now all that was left was smoldering resentment mixed with confusion. They had had plenty of fights through the years, some resulting in the two boys not speaking to each other for several weeks, but through it all, Ron and Harry had always made up. Granted, it was usually some sort of crisis, courtesy of You-Know-Who, that had forced them to work together for the greater good, and by the time it was all said and done, the two boys had forgiven, forgotten, and were friends again. This time was different; the catalyst was darker than anything they’d ever fought about before, and Ron had threatened Harry at wand point. Plus, now that old Voldie was dead, Ron was pretty sure there wouldn’t be a good versus evil crisis to drive them together.

“Fine.” The response was clipped. Ron was trying to work through some things. “You talked to Dumbledore?”

“About?” Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Punishment…consequences…paying for what you did.”

“Paying for what I did,” Harry repeated. “What do you think I’ve been doing ever since that night? What do you want from me, Ron? Tell me how I can make it right!”

“You can’t, Harry! You can’t undo it! Fuck, I’ve watched you get away with everything but bloody fucking murder ever since you got here! You crossed the line, mate, and now you have to live with the consequences,” Ron reiterated what he had said to Dumbledore, trying to brush away his slight guilt at continuing to hold to his position that ‘Potter must pay’ even after the suggestion was made that Harry had punished himself ten-fold.

“Get away with murder? What about the Dursleys, Ron? Remember them? The people who used to beat me and lock me in the cupboard? Do you consider that ‘getting away with murder’? What about Snape and his fucking detentions? What about Voldemort? Do you think I ASKED for any of that? If I had any fucking choice over my life, do you honestly think that I would choose for my parents and my godfather to be dead, with a Dark Lord threatening our very existence, to be abused by Muggles just so that I could come and play the hero? If that’s what you think, then you don’t know me at all, Ronald Bilius Weasley!” Harry’s temper flared for an instant. He ducked his head angrily, wiping the sweat from his brow onto the shoulder of his shirt; well, Draco’s shirt. Draco would probably be upset with him for staining one of his good shirts, but Harry wasn’t in the mood to care right then. Hell, all of Draco’s shirts were good shirts, but Harry had borrowed it from Draco for that day. Ron’s eyes widened as a wave of guilt washed over him. Harry could practically feel the change in Ron’s mood, and he forced his own temper down as well.

The Dursleys…Ron had forgotten about them, and he knew better than most the torment Harry had suffered. In any other circumstance, Ron would have readily agreed that Harry had paid in spades for any and every wrong he had committed, just by enduring eleven long years with those Muggles. And now he felt guilty for having a double standard, because it wasn’t ‘any other circumstance’; it was Hermione and what Harry did to her. Snape tormented them all; yes, he was exceptionally and unjustifiably sadistic to Harry, but that was Snape, whether they liked it or not. And even Ron had to admit that Harry suffered for all of them with regards to Voldemort. The equation all added up to Ron’s forgiveness of Harry, just like he had done a thousand times before, and he didn’t like it. But he would have to live with that.

“Fuck,” Ron swore, knowing his mother wouldn’t have approved, but it was the only word that felt right. He was struggling to hold onto anger and failing. “You know, Harry, this fight is different than all the others we’ve had. Even when we were so mad at each other that we thought about ending our friendship, in the back of my mind, I always knew that could never really, truly happen because we were on the same side. We were united against Voldemort, and that was bigger than the both of us. But now…” he gestured helplessly. “He’s dead. Tom fucking Riddle is dead, and there won’t be another crisis that requires us to forgive each other, so where do we go from here?”

“You mean, are we going to be friends when we don’t have to be?” Harry clarified, thinking back to sitting on the train and looking up at the smiling red-head as they both headed to Hogwarts for the first time.

“We’re different people now than when we were eleven years old,” Ron responded, knowing that the same memory was playing in Harry’s head. “People drift apart, you know. Maybe…” he suddenly choked up and had to force himself to talk around the lump in his throat. “Maybe we’re just fooling ourselves, trying to keep a dead friendship alive…” Harry’s mouth dropped open, his eyes filling with tears. The moment had finally come. Ron didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

“You…you don’t mean that! You can’t! Ron, mate, you were my first friend EVER! I don’t want to lose you!” Harry pleaded desperately, his insides twisting with the idea that the world had gotten so fucked up that his best friend and worst enemy changed roles in his life. He gripped his broom tighter, staring intently at Ron. The expression on the red-head’s face was grim, and he lifted his shoulders.

“I don’t know, Harry…I don’t want to lose you either, but…fuck, mate, I have to protect Hermione. I love her, Harry.” Seeing Harry’s heartbroken countenance made a couple of tears drip down Ron’s cheeks. “I don’t want to choose between you.”

“You won’t have to protect her from me anymore. I know you probably don’t trust me anymore after that night, but I swear to Merlin, Ron, that won’t ever happen again! If…if you want me to….” Harry sighed. “I’ll walk away. You won’t have to choose because I’ll go away, and you won’t ever have to see me or hear me or worry about me ever again. If-if that’s what you want, Ron.” Harry’s voice broke as he said his best friend’s name, and he covered his face with one hand, terrified that he would be made to follow through on the sacrifice he just offered. Chalk one more screw-up to the goddamn Savior.

“Show me your left arm.” Harry looked up at Ron in confusion but rolled up his shirt sleeve in compliance.

“I’m not a Death Eater, Ron. There is no Dark Mark,” Harry completely misunderstood Ron’s line of thought. Without saying a word, Ron grasped Harry’s wrist roughly, giving it a slight tug that set Harry off-balance just a little. The Boy Who Lived wondered what Ron was looking at. His forearm was clean, as it always had been. No Dark Mark. He jumped a little when Ron traced the faint scar across his wrist.

Seeing the suicide scar made everything real to Ron. It was one thing to hear the word, but it was completely another to stare at the reminder that Harry had, in fact, been so wrapped up in guilt that he tried to end his life. And Ron realized that he didn’t want Harry to die; everything might not be completely normal right away, but Ron decided right then and there that he wasn’t going to abandon Harry as a friend. Ron had always been there for Harry, even when they were fighting, and he was too much of a friendly Weasley (and a ‘nice guy’) to fully turn his back on his friend. They would come to an understanding about last week, and Ron believed him when he asserted that he wouldn’t ever hurt Hermione like that again.

“You really tried to kill yourself, Harry?”

“Yeah,” he admitted softly and blushed a little. “I’m not proud of it, but it was right after you—I mean, I had just relived the memory in the Pensieve, and…I couldn’t believe it. If I killed Voldemort only to turn out to be no better than him…” Harry shuddered, remembering his feelings from six days ago.

“You’re not Voldemort. You never could be. You’re much too Gryffindor for that.” Harry snorted, and Ron gave a wry chuckle. “You might not have chosen to be the hero, but you are one, through and through. I always knew it…and I was always jealous because I tried to be like you. You endured everything and still found ways to be positive. Yeah, I was dumb about all of the fame and how everyone knew who you were, but I can’t…I can’t not be your friend. We’ve come through some tough shit, Harry, but this time, we’re choosing to be friends, of our own free will. Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if you had taken Malfoy’s hand that day…I wonder if we would have still been friends.”

* * * * * *

Harry looked up guiltily. If he had taken Draco’s offered hand of friendship…Harry could see two likely scenarios. Either he would have become just like Draco—intolerant and insulting—or the change in Draco would have occurred a lot sooner, and things might have been this way (Harry and Draco dating) earlier.

“Don’t call me a bloody hero. Maybe I should have told you this right away, while you still hated me, because then you probably wouldn’t be so undecided about us being friends,” Harry began. Ron’s hand tightened around his wrist. “It has nothing to do with Hermione, I promise.” He hurried to reassure his…friend? “I guess you could say that Draco and I have made our peace. We’re not enemies anymore.” Ron let go of Harry’s wrist, considering Harry’s words.

“O-kay…are you guys…friends?” Ron looked suspicious and sick, not knowing what to make of this revelation.

“Yeah, you could say that. We’re…fuck…we’re more than friends, actually…” Harry’s face turned beet red. Ron wondered for a minute if Harry could mean that Draco was his ‘new’ best friend, and then suddenly clarity struck, and Ron fell off his broom in shock. Harry caught him quickly by spell and lowered him to the ground, hopping off of his Firebolt to plop down beside the slightly green Weasley. Ron sank to the ground, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his chin on his knees as he pondered morosely. He didn’t really want to hear it, but he was too much of a Gryffindor for his own good not to ask.

“You mean…that night you and I talked, and you told me you might be…well, you and Malfoy? MALFOY? Have you lost your goddamn mind? Wait a minute! So he’s…you know, too?” Ron stuttered, beginning to rock back and forth, wondering if it was too late for an Obliviate.

“Yeah, apparently, Malfoy is ‘you know.’ After I left Gryffindor that night, he ended up coming across me in the halls just as I was puking my guts up. For whatever reason, he helped me, and I-uh…woke up in Slytherin that next morning, and…yeah,” Harry’s blush crept down his neck as Ron’s eyes bugged out of his head.

“No more! I don’t want to know! Well, so are you guys, um, together, or what?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Harry cocked his head thoughtfully. “He found me on the floor of Dumbledore’s office after I…” he motioned to his wrist. “And he said he loves me, and now…well, we haven’t, like, said that we’re…boyfriends…but I’m pretty much certain that I’m in love with him, Ron.”

“Do I HAVE to hear this?”

“Only if you want to be my friend,” Harry took a chance with words and deed as he poked Ron in the side playfully. Ron rolled his eyes.

“I’m in for it now. I must be a glutton for punishment. We’ll be alright, you and I, Harry, but this whole Malfoy thing…I don’t know about that…”

“He has a first name, Ron. I don’t call your girlfriend Granger. But seriously, mate, that night…in my room…I was just so damn lonely and desperate…combined with the alcohol…it was a recipe for disaster—obviously—but I can tell you with absolute certainty that I won’t be feeling like that anytime soon. As long as Draco is around, anyway,” Harry grinned happily.

“I still think he looks like a ferret, Harry.”

“As long as you don’t call him that to his face. At least, not until the two of you are best mates…” Harry actually giggled at the horrified look on Ron’s face.

“Harry, mate, please! One thing at a time! Hermione is going to…forget how to study…when she hears about this!” Ron’s head suddenly snapped up as he paled. “Blimey, I’m supposed to go talk to her! I can’t keep this a secret from her for long! She’ll know!”

“If she hasn’t figured it out already, you mean. She’s a smart cookie, that one. As far as girls go, mate, there isn’t anyone better than her, and I’m very happy for you,” Harry started feeling as giddy as a first-year Hufflepuff. Things were looking up, indeed. He and Ron had made up and quickly fallen back into their old comfortable routine, even if Ron looked decidedly uncomfortable with the subject of conversation. He knew it might be light stepping for a while, but this was a big step towards a new kind of ‘normal’.

“When would she have time to figure it out? We haven’t had you in any of our classes all week, but her schedule is screwy anyway, since she’s filling in for McGonagall with Beginning Transfigurations. Not to mention our daily sessions with Remus and Tonks. Malfoy-er, Draco has been in a couple of our classes, but he hasn’t said a thing to either of us,” Ron told Harry, and the black-haired boy was glad that his boyfriend didn’t appear to hold a grudge against his best friends and had left them alone.

“Do you want me to come with you when you tell her?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“Let me think about that for a minute. Dumbledore just told us earlier about you...last Saturday, and ‘Mione was pretty upset about it. Oh, hey, I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?” Ron wanted to say yes to Harry’s request, but he wasn’t sure if Hermione was ready to see him again.

“Um, bad news.”

“Dumbledore said that the punishment for what I did—drawing my wand on you and the thing with McGonagall—was expulsion from Hogwarts, but he’s making an exception. Gryffindor won’t win the House Cup this year, though,” Ron watched Harry’s face contort into shock, followed by sadness and then fear.

“He was going to expel you? Does that mean…” Harry didn’t want to think about being kicked out of the school he loved.

“I don’t think he’s going to expel you. Well, he’ll probably expel you and then suspend that sentence, like he did with me. But the good news is that McGonagall woke up!” Ron tried to cheer Harry up. The green-eyed Gryffindor smiled.

“Good news indeed. Hey, you hungry? I am,” Harry realized that his stomach was rumbling, since he missed dinner altogether.

“Hermione and I ate earlier, but I can always go for something. You know that. And to answer your earlier question, I think you should come with me and tell her about your little ferret yourself. Just stay by the door or across the room from her, and leave if she starts getting agitated. She doesn’t shake quite as much, but sometimes.” Ron got to his feet, pulling Harry up, and they both picked up their brooms and began to walk back.

The Gryffindor common room was only about half full of people, most of the others from Harry’s and Ron’s group. Hermione was not among them (still up in their bedroom, Ron presumed), and everyone froze in shock as Ron and Harry walked in calmly, side-by-side, grinning like a couple of Chestershire cats, and acting as if nothing had been wrong in the world.
**********


Author’s note: FUCK! I rewrote the Harry/Ron scene three times before I was finally happy with my third attempt (what you see here). I am now too close to it...I need you guys to give me your honest, unbiased opinions about whether you liked it or not. (If you didn't like it, be brutal).

In the first one, I had all of Gryffindor go flying, and in the second one, Ron and Harry fight physically. Neither of them seemed right, though (probably because I kept writing Ron out-of-character with Malfoy-like insults instead of blunt Gryffindor honesty like I assume he uses). But I think it finally came together.

Honestly, what do you think? Too soon for a reconciliation between the Three? Should Ron stay mad at Harry longer? I assumed that even though Ron has a temper, he’s not too good at holding a grudge, especially in light of your comments, my faithful readers. He might be a hothead in the moment, but I don’t think he’s capable of being downright cruel (like Malfoy used to be) to Harry. At least, I decided not to write him that way.

And I hope this long (and informative) chapter makes up for the delays! And I feel like I’m getting better at balancing dialogue with exposition/prose. And I know the non-Harry/Draco pairings might seem strange, but it won’t get explicit (I don’t think).

Always, always, always, thanks for your reviews! You guys make me so happy!

Yami—I hope you like what happened with the whole flying thing, even if Ron didn’t really get to do much flying, per se. If it’s too unrealistic or rushed, though, I can always change it.

thrnbrooke—No, no, please don’t worry! Draco WILL NOT die! You made a good point with Ron knowing about the Dursleys, and I incorporated that into this chapter! I hope you like!

hismama21—Sorry about the cliff-hanger. It didn’t really strike me as such (except for the fact that I know a little bit about what’s going to happen to Draco) but he WON’T DIE! I would traumatize myself if that were to happen, so you’re safe there!

As far as why Draco went home…remember, he still loves his mother, and his father is dead. He hasn’t seen her since before his father died, so he has no idea how she’s holding up (since Snape and Dumbledore didn’t want him to go home before school). Plus he’s ready to stop being a ‘coward’ and assume responsibility for his destiny as Lord Malfoy; unfortunately just in time to have his “stupid moment” of defying authority and advice. *shrug* Cute as he is, he’s not perfect.

Night—As you can see from this chapter, Snape’s out for tonight anyway. And (I’d imagine) the rest of the weekend, since he’s kind of traumatized right now.

You make a good point about the rest of the Gryffindors, and I actually wrote the first version of Ron/Harry flying (with the rest of the Gryffindors) based on your comment. But I didn’t think it was realistic enough (and I didn’t like how snarky Ron was being) so I scrapped it and rewrote it like this. But I tried to leave it open at the end to incorporate the rest of the group into the next chapter! (Hopefully that’s okay)

Hagrid…*sigh* writing Hagrid would require research, and I already did a fuckton for this chapter, so Hagrid will not be appearing in THIS chapter, anyway. And as far as Ginny goes, she had a major role in the first version of the flying thing, so I’ll probably have an edited take for her to have a bigger part later.

Thank you very much for your suggestion. Although…what do you mean *if* she finds out about Harry and Draco? *evil grin* Hmmmmmmmmmmm *goes off to ponder*


arealdeal—Hi and welcome! Thanks for your review! It makes me happy to know that you like Ron in this. Although, after this chapter, hopefully he’s not too “predictable” again? If he is, and you don’t like that, please tell me. I’d much rather know if you (or anyone) doesn’t like the way someone is acting. Here’s my train of thought for that, though: in the books, when Ron and Harry fight, there usually ends up being a crisis that pushes them back together, but now, there is no crisis, so they have to decide whether to be friends or not. Which means that Ron has to make a decision (whereas before, it was usually made for him by circumstances) of whether to stand by Harry or turn his back. According to the HP Lexicon, Ron is Harry’s faithful sidekick, so I opted to keep him as such (makes for a better “happy ending” and all) but if you guys don’t like it, I can reason with him.

And hopefully you had some giggles about Ron finding out. If I didn’t make it *enough* of a big deal in this, I can add to it, but remember, they still have to tell Hermione now! Haha


Danine—Hmmmmm. Ron…holding a grudge…oh fuck. Well, he held this grudge for all of one week, so if that’s not realistic, I can make it go for longer. (What do you think?) And poor Draco got bumped to next chapter…a thousand apologies, but Snape just HAD to butt in and inform me that he wanted to tell me about what happened to him in the past. And he’s “doomed” in the sense that there will be lots of therapy needed before I’m through tormenting him, but I can’t kill him. It’s just not right!