Spell Master

Author: Babychan

email: baby_chan1778@yahoo.com or babychan1778@yahoo.com

Title: Spell Master

Rating: R but it will become NC17 later.

Series: Yes. Chapter 17/?

Parings: H/D S/N/L N/B

Summary: The wizarding world is going to find out that Harry Potter is not the only one with awesome powers. Its a Pro-Slytherin and Pro-Draco fic. This is slash fiction. This is also the re-edited version.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its characters do NOT belong to me :( (pout) I’m just writing for the fun of it. I get no money for it whatsoever. .

A.N.: I would to thank everyone for their reviews for my fic. It means so very much. Thank you.

Spell Master


By the middle of September, Harry wondered what possessed him to think that being in Slytherin could be a “good thing.” However, this time, it wasn’t his Housemates’ wealth and snobbery that made him feel this way, though it still made him uncomfortable. Nor was it their treatment of him that was distressing him; although he did have to engage in a few wizards’ duels to prove that he wasn’t a wimp.

Because he wasn’t.

It was just that over the two years, during his depression, Harry took all the crap his former friends threw at him because...he thought that maybe, once it was over, they would like him again.

The Slytherins however, were *not* his friends, so he didn’t mind hexing them into oblivion. Actually, hexing those Slytherin jerks was sort of therapeutic. In spite of this, the challenges didn‘t last long, for Draco put the word out that whoever challenged Potter was going to duel with him instead.

Harry knew that it wasn’t for his sake. Malfoy didn’t care about him. Besides roll call –in Potions–, Draco didn’t even acknowledge Harry’s existence. He even totally ignored him in all of their shared classes.

Harry didn’t know why, but being ignored by Draco pissed him off. It was ridiculous, especially, since the only time Draco Malfoy –the student, not teacher– paid any attention to others, outside of his precious Slytherin Court, was to torment them.

Nevertheless, Harry knew that the only reason Draco took up for him was because he was infuriated that people were ignoring his warning and disrespecting *his* rule in Slytherin. Draco didn’t like being disrespected, nor did he tolerate it. In Slytherin, the Prince’s word was law and those who broke his law were severely punished.

So, again, it wasn’t the Slytherin’s who bothered the Gryffindor scion. It was the *rest of the school,* and their *hate* for his new House, which was the problem.

The former Gryffindor quickly found out that wearing the Snake Crest was like having a bull's-eye painted on his back. A bull's-eye that *everyone* wanted to shoot an arrow into.

Harry noticed –and not for the first time during this month– how cruel everyone was to the members of the Snake House. They couldn’t even walk down the halls without being harassed. And when they retaliated, it was the Slytherin who usually got punished. Even the Professor’s –who Harry used to think were so fair– ruled their actions on how they felt about the Slytherin House. They even treated *him* differently.

It wasn’t fair!

It was worse than being an outcast who no one cared about.

“Has it always been this way?” Harry asked his friend as he pointed toward a third year Slytherin. The boy was getting reprimanded by Sprout, for standing up for himself, while the fourth year Gryffindor walked away without even receiving a chastising word.

Neville nodded. “I’ve always noticed it... But you know... They were Slytherin so...” He shrugged ashamed at why he used to believe this unfair behavior to be just. “You know...they were supposed to be evil, so it was okay because...”

“They deserved it.” Harry finished, ashamed as well.

Oh how different he saw things when the shoe was on the other foot! Harry had only been a Snake a day over two weeks, but he could already understand the reason his Housemates were so angry all the time. Never had the raven-haired boy felt the need to watch his back so relentlessly, and *he* had Voldemort after him! It was disconcerting to say the least, and Harry wondered what type of person he would have been if he was subjected to this unrelenting prejudice everyday, and for the past six years.

Idly, he also wondered if this was why Tom Riddle turned out the way he did.

When they reached the end of the corridor, Harry tugged on the other boy’s robe and pointed to the right. “It’s this way, Neville.”

“Oh!” The brown-haired boy blushed. “I can’t believe I forgot.”

“It’s okay.” Harry smiled warmly.

Because their last class was let out before the bell, the two ex-Gryffindors were early when they reached the Great Hall doors. And since most off the students were still in class, the corridors were pretty much empty, or sparsely populated. Harry was grateful for that. However, once they arrived at the Hall, the Gryffindor heir changed his mind about eating at the Slytherin table. He wasn’t ready yet! Sitting with Slytherins, in class, was different than sitting with them at lunch.

Harry looked apologetically at Neville. “I can’t do this.”

“They won’t mind.” The cute, little, butterball guaranteed with a warm smile. “Anyway, you can’t keep skipping meals. It’s not healthy!”

“I don’t skip meals!” Harry assured. “I just eat them in the kitchen.” It was something he started doing last year. And since the house elves didn’t mind, he didn’t mind either.

“If it makes you feel better...” Neville said as he pouted cutely. It was a look that always worked on his boyfriend. “I asked Blaise about it, when he walked me to Charms today. He told me that Draco was going to be grading papers this hour, so he wouldn’t be there. And he said that you wouldn’t have to worry about the others either. He promised me that he would take care of it!”

Potter looked skeptical. He didn’t doubt that Zabini would do anything to make Neville happy, but Harry doubted that the other raven-haired boy could make the Slytherin Court accept him. Not that he wanted to be accepted by them, mind you, but just the same, Harry didn’t think Zabini could do it.

“That’s okay...” Harry smiled as he backed away from the door. “I’m not that hungry anyway. I had a large breakfast.” It was a lie and he knew it, but what else could he say? Neville apparently wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Anyway... I wanted to talk to Professor Lupin before I went to class.”

For a split second, Neville looked confused, then he started to frantically search all of his pockets for his class roster. Even after all this time, he still carried it. “I thought that we had Muggle Studies next?”

“We do.” Harry assured with an innocent, calming, pat on the boy’s shoulder. He and Neville had quite a few classes together. Even Advanced Runes and Tarot, which wasn’t a mistake on Longbottom's part. It seemed that what the other ex-Gryffindor lacked in potions skill, he made up for it, 10 fold, in Divination. He took all of Trelawney’s advance classes.

In a friendly gesture, Harry brought his arm over Neville’s shoulders and gave him a reassuring almost-hug. “I’ll see you after lunch okay?”

The brown-haired boy looked up at Harry and relented in a sigh.

Knowing that he won this battle, Harry thought it best to go. Unfortunately, before he was able to move his hand away, his wrist was caught in a painful, vice grip and his arm and hand was wrenched away from Neville's shoulder. Both shocked, ex-Gryffindors spun around, only to see a furious Blaise Zabini.

“Jealous much?” Pansy snickered from behind.

This morning, after Blaise walked his cherub to Charms, he had been complaining, to her, about Potter and how close the other teen was getting to his boyfriend. Blaise was certain that Harry was going to, eventually, put the moves on Neville. Pansy snorted at the thought, and she wondered what her friend saw when he looked at Longbottom. In her opinion, the idiocy of his fears were mind boggling. Nonetheless, Pansy knew that Zabini’s tolerance toward Potter was reaching its summit. So when she noticed Harry and Neville talking, she had a feeling that her long-haired friend was going to cause a scene. And when Harry put his arm around Neville’s shoulders, she knew for a *fact* that Blaise was going to cause, not only a scene, but a fantastic spectacle that wouldn’t be forgotten, for a long time.

Blaise ignored her snide remark and fixed a deadly glare on Potter. “Don’t ever touch him again!”

Neville’s jaw dropped in shock, and he silently prayed to the gods that there wouldn’t be another scene like the one at Draco’s birthday party.

Harry was shocked as well, and all he could do was stare, dumbly, at the taller boy and put his hands in front of his chest and stutter. “I...I wasn’t..”

Wasn’t what?

Touching Neville?

Well, he was. So that would be a lie.

But Harry didn’t *mean* anything by the innocent contact.

“You heard what I said, Potter!” Warned the beautiful, blue-eyed boy as he scowled at Harry with a viciousness that well surpassed any scowl that Draco Malfoy had ever bestowed on him. “Don‘t ever touch him again!”

“I told him, Blaise.” Gregory lied with smile and a shrug. “This morning, I told him... But I guess he just didn’t care.”

Blaise grit his teeth. He. Was. Pissed. Because, now, he believed that Harry kept touching his boyfriend despite the fact that he *knew* it was FORBIDDEN!!

Harry glared at the large boy then fearfully looked back at Zabini. This was not good.

As each second passed, Zabini got angrier and angrier. And in his minds eye, he saw flashes of the two ex-Gryffindor together. He remembered the deceivingly, innocent-looking brushes of Harry’s arms against Neville’s –when they were walking to class together. The little pats on Neville's shoulder, and the tugs on his robe –when Neville took the wrong turn. Blaise now fully believed that they were actually *ploys* to take his boyfriend away!

Zabini felt like a fool.

An absolute fool!

Because his sweet, good-hearted, cherub had asked him too, Blaise had been going out of his way to be nice to Potter. And all the long, the bastard was trying to steal his lover away from him. Well... Blaise would be damned before he allowed that to happen! Neville was the best thing to ever happen to him, and he didn’t want to loose that. He *wouldn’t* loose that! Neville was his!

His dammit!

HIS!!

Harry stood in awe as a cool, violent, breeze swirled around them and Zabini‘s eyes turned from their normal brilliant blue to a ...violet color. A *violent* sort of violet color. The ex-Gryffindor couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Zabini’s eyes actually changed colors!

What in the HELL was he?!

That was when Neville stepped in between Harry and his boyfriend. He placed both of his hands on Blaise’s chest and looked up into his love’s eyes. “Please, Blaise....Please calm down!” This was turning out to be worse than Draco’s party. “There is nothing going on between Harry and I... He’s just my friend!”

Blaise tilted his head down to stare at his boyfriend. He didn’t understand why Neville couldn’t see that it was the *friendship* that was the problem! It made Blaise afraid. Afraid that he would lose his love, and heart, to Harry Potter.

With a flick of his wrist, Zabini’s wand was in his hand, and he pointed it at the Gryffindor scion.

Everyone’s eyes widened. Millicent, Gregory, Pansy and Vincent stepped back, while Harry stood his ground and scrambled to retrieve his wand from the folds of his robe. All of them knew what was going to happen next.

Except... that it didn’t.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Blaise.” Came the gentle warning, from the Great Hall doors.

Five Snakes turned toward the voice, while Blaise and Harry kept a challenging gaze trained on each other.

Draco bit into the apple that he was eating and stared at his best friend. Unlike the others, he didn’t look nervous or anticipatory in the least. When Zabini didn‘t back off, Malfoy tilted his head to the side and said.

“Consider it a favor... To me. Because I‘d hate to have to make an example of you ,for disobeying my orders.”

The proposal was made before Draco even realized what he was saying. Once his mind caught up with his mouth, he was pissed, and he wondered what in the hell was wrong with him. He had just called in a *favor*to protect Potter!

Neville, who was still in between the two boys, raised up on his tippy toes and kissed his boyfriend’s chin. “Please, Blaise... Listen to Draco.”

It took a minute, but Zabini finally backed off and slowly, his brilliant blues orbs reappeared.

Harry sighed in relief.

“What happened?” Longbottom asked in a worried whisper as he lovingly caressed his boyfriend’s cheek.

The boy addressed glanced, and glared, at Potter then shifted a soft, and loving, gaze back toward his love, before he admitted, in a petulant pout. “He started it!” He then placed his hands on Neville’s shoulders as if he were trying to erase Harry’s touch.

Potter frowned at the lie.

Draco shook his head and rolled his eyes. This was just another reason why falling in love was not for him.

Seeing that the spectacle was over, and the fact that the corridors were, now, quickly filling with rabble-rousing students, Millicent, Pansy, Vincent and Gregory left to go eat.

Blaise and Neville stayed in the hall. The raven-haired Prefect was trying to explain why his jealous tantrum was Harry Potter’s fault.

“Potter.” Draco called as he left the Great Hall. He made a subtle gesture for the other teen to follow him.

Harry didn’t want to, but seeing how Draco saved him, again, he reluctantly tagged along. Begrudgingly, the former Gryffindor was impressed as he watched the crowd part like the Red Sea when Malfoy walked against the flow of traffic. However, before he knew it, they were back in the dungeons and walking through passageways that Harry never knew existed.

Despite his curiosity of where he was being led, when his stomach growled violently, he started regretting that he didn’t nab something to eat first.

“Are you hungry?”

“What?” He didn’t hear Draco, but his question was answered when the blond tossed something over his shoulder. The red projectile came flying toward his face, at an alarming speed, but with his seeker reflexes, Harry caught it easily. When he looked at what he held, he groaned.

It was an apple.

An apple, of all things.

Potter’s stomach growled as he stared at the delectable looking fruit. But regardless of his obvious hunger, his mind was screaming for him to just throw it on the floor. Why? Because so many bad things happen to good people when they eat apples.

Adam and Eve and Snow White, just to name a few.

“I may be a snake, Potter, but I assure you, it’s not poisoned. ” Draco chuckled with dark amusement. “Really, Potter. You owe me a wizards dept. How do you expect me to collect it, if you are dead?”

Ashamed that his thoughts were read so easily, Harry tried to deny it. “I wasn‘t...”

Draco raised his hand to silence the lie and changed the subject. “You know... I’ve been told that in the muggle world, an apple a day keeps the dentist away.” He shook his head. “It’s untrue, though. Just one of many muggle lies that they want to force us to believe.”

“What am I doing down here?” Harry asked the slightly taller teen, in a curt tone. If it was just to insult muggles, then he was leaving. He might be a Slytherin now, but it didn’t mean he was going to share their views.

“I don’t know, Potter.” Draco drawled as he gracefully turned, to face the other boy. “Why *are* you down here? What are you and Dumbledore scheming?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Harry scowled at being wrongfully accused. “We’re not “scheming” anything! Dumbledore told me that I was put in Slytherin because I *belong* here!”

“And you believe that?” Malfoy asked curiously as he arched a delicate brow.

Harry looked away from the soul-piercing glare, of steal gray eyes. “It doesn‘t matter what I believe.”

Draco narrowed his eyes as he silently judged and weighed Potter’s reactions to his questions. Things were starting to make since now. But there were other questions that plagued him. He wanted to know why Dumbledore chose to put Potter in Slytherin *now* and not before. Did the Headmaster see something evil in the boy? Was Harry turning into the next Voldemort? Was the old coot going to blame Slytherin for the Golden Boy’s fall? He wanted to know.

On the other hand, his father’s were acting peculiar too. Unlike him, they seemed pleased by the resorting. Supposedly, and somehow, it helped their “plan.”

Whatever the hell that was.

Unfortunately Draco was still on a need-to-know basis. More unfortunately, was that they didn‘t feel he needed to know anything of any importance. Instead, they kept drilling into him that he needed to make Potter his ally. They even told him to forgive the boy’s first transgression –the refusal on the train– and begin anew.

Draco refused.

That is, he refused until his father bribed him. Because Potter was important to their Plan, Lucius made Draco an offer he couldn’t refuse. The elder Malfoy told him that if he gave Potter a second chance, he would teach him how to do certain dark spells that had been kept from him.

Summoning fire pixies was one of them.

However, what his father didn’t know was that Draco would have–eventually– done it anyway. Even without the bribe. Ever since the young scion almost had sex with Potter, he had been having odd and unwanted urges. Draco tried to make since of these strange –but strangely natural– impulses to jump to Potters rescue, but for the life of him, he didn’t understand his behavior. Even the times when his parents told him –forced him– to protect Potter, Draco knew that there was a part of him that would have done it anyway.

Most distressingly, it wasn’t that he *wanted* to do it. It was like he couldn’t help himself from *not* doing it. Like when he gave Harry the answers to the test, or saved Harry from Blaise’s jealous wrath. Or worst yet, when he gave Potter his apple.

That was *his* apple!

He grabbed two because *he* was *hungry* and because he knew that one *wouldn’t* be enough!

But what did he do? He gave it away, immediately, after he heard the other boy‘s stomach growl!!

This desire to protect Potter was getting stronger –worse– with each one of their encounters. That was why he had been trying to avoided Potter at all cost. Malfoy surmised that it *had to be* some type of incantation against him. Which, in Draco’s opinion, would only leave one culprit who had the power and the reason to do it.

Dumbledore.

The same sneaky ass Headmaster who dumped Potter in Slytherin, in their seventh year, and put Potter in most of his elective classes.

Draco scowled. He just realized that Harry *didn’t* know that Dumbledore was using him as a pawn. And for reasons Malfoy attributed to the “curse” that was placed on him, that revelation pissed him off. It also made him feel sorry for Potter because the boy was being betrayed by someone he trusted. So implicitly .

It was for this reason that Draco’s icy heart melted, a bit, and instead of leaving Potter there, to be lost in the deep recess of the dungeons, like he initially planned, he decided to be....

Nice.

“Perhaps Dumbledork is right, and you *do* belong in Slytherin, Potter.” The Veelan prince said as he rolled his eyes. “Though, I still stand by the fact that I think he’s a bumbling idiot, but there’s always a first time for everything.”

Draco hated the Headmaster with a passion that probably equaled his father‘s. And that loathe stemmed from the same thing. The way Dumbledore handled his Daa’s attempted murder. That transgression was why the young potions teacher had no problems with insulting the Headmaster –his boss– at every opportunity.

“He’s right *a lot* of the time!” Harry defended. Unlike Malfoy, Potter loved and trusted the aged wizard completely.

Malfoy didn’t even bother to contest the other boy’s biased, deluded statement. It wasn’t worth it. Instead, he took a deep breath, turned to face a stone wall and whispered a secret spell –known only to Slytherin Head Persons.

Instantly, a magical a door appeared.

“Did you know that you are a Slytherin legacy, Potty?” Draco asked as he gestured for Harry to follow him through the wall.

Harry didn’t want to follow. He didn’t trust this abrupt change of subject. Moreover, only Merlin knew what was on the other side of that magical wall. During his six years of living at Hogwarts, it was the dungeons that Potter stayed away from when he explored. His adventure with the Chamber of Secrets and the fact that this was Slytherin territory was enough to keep him away. Nonetheless, those fears didn’t stop him. Malfoy knew something about his family history. History that he never got in 6 years, while living in Gryffindor. So if the blond was going to share that with him, even if it was a trap, then Harry would follow him to the ends of the earth for it.

Though he found himself in another corridor, when Harry walked through the wall, the beauty of it all surprised him. There was no more dark, mossy stone. The air was fresh, and the stone was marble arranged in fanciful patterns of green, gray and white. It was bright as if it were lit with muggle light bulbs. However, the most notable feature was the walls. Both sides of the wide hall were lined with trophy cases, filled to the brim with trophies, cups, medallions, plaques, crests, certificates, old pictures and portraits, head busts and every type of award imaginable.

“It’s a little known fact...” Draco drawled proudly as he sauntered down the marble walkway. “But Slytherin has won the most recognition of any House.”

“How come the trophies aren’t in the Hogwarts trophy room, then?” The raven-haired boy asked curiously as they whizzed past trophy case after trophy case. “Wouldn’t you guys want everyone to know how great you are?”

“Slytherin is *great* no matter what they know about us!” Draco snapped.

“I wasn’t saying that it wasn‘t!” Harry snapped right back. “I was just asking why don’t you let everyone see --”

“Potter,” Draco interrupted. “You’ve had detention there enough times. You’ve seen the laxity in which the school keeps them in. Do you honestly think that *Slytherin* would put their trophies in *there*?”

“No, I suppose not.” Harry sighed as he observed the high-shine of every award, no matter how small.

“Moreover” Malfoy continued. “We are not as pretentious as everyone wants to believe. Believe it or not, we Slytherins do not care what the other Houses think of us. We have nothing to prove, and if we had it our way, we’d be a school of our own.”

Harry sighed as he passed trophy case after trophy case. He remembered joking with Ron, when they were still friends, how Slytherin was so arrogant about *everything* but barely had any victories to show for it. Harry focused on one of the hundreds of cases. However, his gaze trained on a particular case. It housed a cup that was taller than him. At closer inspection, Harry realized that it was a Triwizards Tournament Cup, and he realized how wrong he and Ron were.

“How do you keep them all so clean?”

“Magic, Potter. Magic.” Draco sighed and rolled his eyes at the foolish question. He stopped at a fork in the hall and looked left, then right. Both corridors were lined with trophy cases, but only one had what he was looking for. After finding his bearings, he chose left.

Harry continued to follow, but he didn’t think his question was stupid, especially since the trophy’s in the main trophy room, of this magical school, looked so awfully neglected.

“So, Potter...” Draco drawled conversationally; even though he was already regretting his decision to do this. “Did you know?”

“Did I know what?” Harry asked confused.

Malfoy sighed impatiently. “That you were a Slytherin legacy.” He hated repeating himself. He really really did.

“Oh!... Yes!” Harry admitted brightly. “Yes, I did.” He was glad that he could honestly say that he actually knew. “Musagets Gryffindor, he was my great grandfather.”

Draco nodded and stopped abruptly in front of an exceptionally large case and pointed at a picture.

If Harry wasn’t paying attention, he would have ran right into Draco. Be as it may, he *was* paying attention and he *still* ran into Draco.

Malfoy snarled at Potter and pushed him back. He was trying to be nice, but his patience were wearing thin. Very thin. It was a miracle that he still *had* patience, seeing how he taught four classes of scholastically elite *idiots* today. Then to top it off, he still had no *true* clue to why he was doing this.

The raven-haired boy ignored Malfoy’s anger and trained his gaze on what Draco was pointing at. It was a picture... A picture of his Great Grandfather! When his great grandfather was 17 years old!

“He was Head Boy, you know.” Malfoy informed, and despite the fact that Musagets was a Gryffindor heir, he couldn’t keep the pride from his voice. Slytherin Head positions were an accomplishment to be honored. No matter who held the position.

Emerald eyes widened with pride as he took in every contour and feature, of his ancestors face. God, how different they looked. The only familial resemblance Harry could see in the young man, was his jet black hair. Musagets was handsome, muscular looking and at least 6’ 4’’ Totally unlike Harry who was lucky if he was 5’11’’ and as thin as a pole. Musagets had his father‘s, James‘, dark eyes, but unlike his dad’s kind and playful glint, Musagets’s eyes were hard, cold... Mean. He also bore a Slytherin worthy smirk on his aristocratic lips, instead of a smile. Even at his young age, Harry’s great grandfather radiated power. And even through a picture, Harry could tell that he was not one to mess with.

Draco looked away from the picture and glanced at Harry. “It’s a shame what sullying up the blood line does to a person.” He shook his head woefully. “Your father really should be ashamed of what he turned you into.” He too noticed the extreme difference in the Gryffindor heir’s appearance.

Harry ignored the insult and focused on the picture. “He looks mean.”

“Depends on whom you are comparing him too.” Draco smirked, then walked back a few steps, to an enormous case full of trophy’s that stood before Harry’s great grandfather’s. “Here is my great grandfather, Lucifer. He was Head Boy the year before yours. Now, *he* was mean.” Draco chuckled darkly. “I’ve never met him, mind you, But I’ve heard stories.”

Harry pride his gaze away from Musagets to glance at Lucifer. Even despite the trademark Malfoy malicious smirk, the young man was gorgeous. He had a close shaven, expertly trimmed, goatee and he had long flaming red hair, which was pulled back into a thick braid. Harry would never say this out loud but Lucifer Malfoy looked like... The devil. Without the crimson skin, of course. However, it was the *hair* that caught, and kept, Harry’s attention. For it was red. Redder than even the Weasley’s!

The raven-haired boy turned his gaze toward the “angelic looking” teen with white-blond hair and quirked a brow.

Draco frowned. “Well, you don’t look like your great grandfather either, Potty.” He was a bit insulted by the look Harry gave him; even though he didn’t care that he didn’t look like Lucifer.

“You’re right, I don’t!” Harry laughed despite himself. He was in a good mood. This was an unexpected, cherished gift from his #2 archenemy. Harry shook his head. No, never again would he think of Draco as an enemy. “Thank you, Malfoy.”

“For what?” The blond asked, even though he already knew. Part of him wanted to hear Potter say it, the other part hoped he wouldn’t.

Harry pointed back at the picture of Musegats. “I didn’t know... No one ever told me... until that night....”

Draco tilted his head to the side, not understand what Potter was getting at.

So he reluctantly clarified. “The night Dumbledore resorted me into Slytherin... It was then when he told me that I wasn’t the only Gryffindor heir ever to be sorted into here. But...” He looked back at the picture and sighed happily. “I never thought that I would.. you know..... *See* him. My great grandfather, I mean.”

“Are you telling me that...” Malfoy looked dumbfounded. “You *just* found out about your Slytherin legacy....Two weeks ago?”

The former Gryffindor sheepishly nodded as he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

“Potter.” Draco asked seriously. “Did Dumbledore tell you of anyone else that was in your family, who was sorted into Slytherin?”

“No.” The raven-haired boy shook his head, but brightened up at the idea. He returned his gaze to the blond. If there were more of his ancestors sorted here then...maybe their might be more photos!

“No one else?” Malfoy asked slowly. Almost confusedly. He couldn’t understand why the Headmaster would keep this from him.

Harry shook his head no as he looked away from Draco’s intense stare. It was like the other boy was trying to pick through his brain or something. “Dumbledore told me that I wasn’t the only heir of Gryffindor and then he gave me my great grandfather’s name.” He pointed at the picture to make his point.

“You know Potter...” Draco sighed as he narrowed his crystal eyes and glanced further down the hall. “Words are a very tricky thing.” He walked passed the boy and toward a specific destination. “They can tell you both the truth and a lie.... At the same time.”

“What?” This time Harry was confused. “What do you mean?”

Malfoy pushed back his robe and placed his hands into the pockets of his designer slacks as he walked away from the other teen and further down the hall. “Dumbledore.” He said with distaste.

“What about him?” Harry asked as he followed.

“I’ll admit... He told you the truth when he informed you that you are not the first, in your blood line, to be sorted into Slytherin.” Draco gave him side profile of his face, and a smirk ,before he stopped again and pointed at a picture that was inside another case. A smaller case than their two great ancestors. “However, he failed to mention that you are a legacy on *both* sides of your blood line.”

Harry’s gaze slowly traveled up Draco’s arm and fixed itself on the picture of his...

“Mama!”

Unabashedly, Harry pressed himself against the spotless glass as he took in the beautiful sight of his mother. Unlike all the other pictures of Slytherin Head people, his mother was smiling. A beautiful, compassionate, sort of smile. She was wearing a green dress. The same green dress he saw her in, in the Mirror of Erise.

“I... I thought she was sorted into Gryffindor!” Harry choked out, questioningly.

“Why doesn’t that surprise me.” Malfoy drawled in an uncompassionate tone and rolled his eyes. When he looked back at Potter he found the boy... Crying.

Fuck!

“Potter, what in Loki’s name is wrong with you?” Without even thinking about it, Malfoy dug into his robe’s inner breast pocket and gave the distraught boy another one of his expensive, monogrammed handkerchiefs.

“I just..( hiccup sob) .I never thought that....(hiccup) I would ever see her again!” Harry cried as he used the soft silk to wipe away his waterfall of tears.

“What are you talking about?” The blond asked angrily. He was angry because the other boy’s sorrow was affecting him in a way that he hasn’t felt since... Vanity was alive. “Don’t you have pictures of your own mother?”

Harry shook his head no as his tears became uncontrollable. “Everything about my past....(hiccup sob)... was destroyed!” He looked up and stared forlornly at his mother. “I don’t even have...one picture of my parents but... now I have this!” He pressed his hand against the glass and stared at her worshipfully.

Draco just stared at Harry. He had no words for that confession. He couldn’t even fathom not knowing about his family history. Or about his parents. The family legacy was everything to the Malfoy’s “Potter...”

At being called, Harry quickly looked back at Draco and became afraid. He wasn’t sure why Malfoy brought him in here in the first place, so he was terrified that he wouldn’t be able to come back. Come back to see *her.* So he asked, because it never hurt to ask. “Malfoy... Please!” He begged. “Please, may I come back here... and look at this picture some time?”

Taken back by such earnest sorrow, Draco replied with nod and a breathy “Sure.. Do you remember where the entrance is?” When Harry smiled gratefully and nodded , the blond seemed bewitched and nodded again, dazedly this time, and informed “To get in.. the password is Vini, vidi vici.”

“I came, I saw, I conquered.” Potter repeated in English as he gave Draco a choked a grin. “Figures that would be the password to a trophy room.”

That was when Draco’s brain caught up with what his mouth just said, and he realized what he had done.

He had given Potter *his* password!!

Why?! Why in Merlin’s name, did he give Potter *his* password when there was a completely *different* password, to gain access to these hallowed halls?! It was Victory, and it gave all Slytherins unlimited access to the trophy room and *only* the trophy room.

But did Draco give him that password?

No!

He had mistakenly given his rival the password to *his* entrance and to *his* Head Boy office and to his *BEDROOM!!!*.

What the hell kind of spell did Dumbledore have on him?!!

Distressed, Draco raked his hands through his thick, feather-soft hair as he tried to figure out what to do. Because he knew that there was something definitely wrong... With him. He needed to know how to restrain himself from bestowing unwanted compassion toward Harry Potter. It wasn’t right! It was wrong! He had never felt this out-of-control, in his entire life.

“So I can come here anytime I want?” Harry asked again, just to make sure.

That question brought the young prince out of his inner turmoil and back to the situation at hand. “Uh...No.” He had changed his mind, just as he mentally thought of a new password. He was *not* going to give Harry Potter, of all people, unlimited access to his private domains.

“No?” The raven-haired boy deflated at knowing that Malfoy had already changed his mind. Nonetheless, he timidly asked “Then can I just come here some times?”

“Yes.” The blond affirmed, right before his crystal eyes widened manically. “I mean no.”

Harry looked like he was going to cry again. “No?”

“No.” Malfoy repeated as he shook his head. The action was more to reaffirm his decision to *himself* because he was about to change his mind. Again. He really needed to get away from Harry before he mistakenly gave away his family fortune.

“B..but..” Harry sniffed pitifully.

“How about this, Potter.” The blond interrupted. Harry was crying again, and to Draco, that was unacceptable. Unacceptable on so many different levels that the Veelan prince didn’t want to count. So to stop the water works, Draco flicked his wrist and a wand appeared–the wand he was borrowing from his Daa because he refused to use the piece of crap his father sent him. He pointed it at the picture of the girl and said “Replicaus!” With a pop, there was a replicated picture, of a seventeen year old Lily Evans in Draco’s hand. “Here.” He shoved it toward the Gryffindor scion.

Harry looked at the picture of his mother. She now, magically, looked worriedly at him. She tried to give him an encouraging smile, but her concern for him was plainly evident on her face. He tried to ease her worries as he smiled back, but she wasn’t fooled. By the time, Harry looked up, to thank Draco, he noticed that the other boy had left, and was a good ways down the hall.

“Draco!” He called out and ran to catch up. “Draco, wait!” The other boy’s long strides looked deceptively slow, but Harry had to really book-it to catch up.

Malfoy felt like his insides had turned into ice when Potter used his first name. It sounded too right coming from his enemy’s lips, Therefore, in Draco’s not so humble opinion, there was *definitely* something wrong with him. So he increased the pace of his steps because he needed to find out what it was!

Unfortunately, for the blond-haired Slytherin, Harry caught up with him. Not only did he catch up, but he ran in front of him and blocked his escape.

Draco snapped. “What now, Potter?”

“I...I just wanted to say thanks.” He was taken back by the unexpected hostility.

“So noted.” Malfoy all but growled, then tried to side step the other boy. “Now if you would excuse me. I have responsibilities to attended to.”

“Oh...Of course.” Harry smiled warmly, almost adoringly. He wanted to say more. He wanted to make Draco understand how treasured this gift, of just seeing his great grandfather and having a picture of his mother was. He wanted to show Malfoy how appreciated this little act of kindness was. But... now wasn’t the time. Harry wasn’t totally oblivious to the fact that Draco looked extremely uncomfortable, or to the fact that the other boy was slowly backing away from him as if he had the plague, or some other horrible muggle disease. Harry assumed that Malfoy wasn’t used to doing nice things for other people. Especially for *him.*

He was right.

So the raven-haired boy had mercy, on his “angel” –because Draco truly was becoming Harry’s angel whether the blond wanted to or not– and moved out of Draco’s way. Nonetheless, as he watched Malfoy make a hasty departure, he called out.

“Thanks again!”

Draco stopped, bristled and stormed back “Don’t. Thank. Me.” He grit out. Each word was as sharp as a rapier. The Veelan prince glared at Potter and at the other boy’s flushed face, tear streaked cheeks, pink nose and red rimmed eyes. The sight of the Boy-Who-Lived in such a pathetic state infuriated him. He couldn’t believe that this... This *crybaby* was the one who everyone hoped, no *believed,* was going to save them from Voldemort. Of all sadistic creatures! So Draco put a vice grip on his anger, because anger was good. It was a familiar feeling. He understood it, and he knew how to wield it.

“Potter” The Head Boy drawled cruelly. “I’ve just realized why Dumbledore placed you into Slytherin.”

“You have?” Harry asked kindly, curious to Draco’s epiphany.

“Yes I have. It’s because you’ve become weak.” Malfoy answered disdainfully when the Gryffindor scion lifted up his glasses, to wipe away a stray tear, with the back of his hand, instead of with the silk handkerchief. “Slytherins aren’t weak. And even if by chance some of us were, we sure as hell wouldn’t broadcast that Achilles heal to our *enemies!*”

“I’m not your enemy, Malfoy.” Harry sniffed.

“Yes you are.” The blond assured snidely. “I’ve never liked you, Potter, and I never will. But I *hate* this new version of you even more!”

He really *did* hate this more fragile version of the Boy-who-Lived, but not for the reason’s he gave. It was because it made Draco feel *really* protective over Potter. It made Draco realize that he didn’t hate Harry as much as he *wanted* too. It made Draco want to do whatever it took, to fix whatever was wrong in the other boy‘s life; when, mentally, the prince really had no inkling of a clue, to *why* he would even *care* if Potter was sad or not.

I mean really. Why would he care? Draco *didn’t* like Harry Potter.

Not even a little bit.

Harry fidgeted as Malfoy trained his ice-colored eyes so completely on him. It was unnerving the way Draco looked at him from the top of wild raven tresses, down to his well-worn sneakers. Even so, Harry didn’t say anything to stop the boy from silently judging him. Nor did he say anything to contest Malfoy’s opinion of him.

And why didn’t Harry fight for *himself*?

Because over the two years, of loosing everything and almost everyone he held dear to his heart, the Gryffindor scion stopped caring.

Well...That’s not completely true.

Harry cared, and it still hurt when he thought about everything he had lost. It was just that he stopped caring *as much.* Harry stopped letting people’s opinion get to him, like it did in the past. He had already tried to be everything everyone wanted. And where did that get him?

It got him blacklisted. And an outcast in his own House. A House that he was the only blood heir too.

That was why he decided to live out his last year, in Hogwarts, as he lived out his entire life with the Dursleys. Choosing his battles, deciding which ones were worth fighting, and for the rest of the time... Just bending with the wind.

Harry had been abused his entire life. If he knew nothing else, he knew how to *not* make things worse for himself. Harry knew how to subdue his temper and be passive, when it was time to be passive. He knew how to take sporadic spurts of abuse –whether it be verbal, physical, or emotional– if it meant that the majority of the time he would be left alone. Harry decided that if living this way was what he needed to do, to survive then...

So be it.

As if reading Harry’s thoughts, Draco frowned. “I’m going to give you some sage advice, Potter.” The blond drawled as he slipped his hands back into his pockets. “If you walk around like a victim. You’re going to be victimized. Especially in Slytherin.” He turned around dismissively, then sauntered down the hall with a royal arrogance that only he could master.

“I’m not going to be anyone’s victim!” Harry affirmed in a tight voice as he watched the boy walk away.

“Good.” Malfoy answered darkly. “Because I’m not going to save your arse anymore, Potter.”

Malfoy was lying and he knew it. Although he *hoped* that his words rung true. However, and in spite of his hopes, Draco knew that if Harry was *really* in trouble, he’d step in and save his rival again. He didn’t know *why* he’d do it. He just knew that he would.

“I never asked you to save me in the first place!” Harry reminded. However, there was no heat in his tone. Not today. Not when Malfoy gave him such a precious gift.

Draco didn’t reply. Instead, he continued down the hall and out of the trophy room. However, the truth to Potter’s statement made the young prince want to cut his own heart out with a rusty *spoon!* That was why the Veelan prince felt the need to get *out* of there, and *away* from Potter. He needed to find out what in the hell was wrong with him!

He needed...

To talk to his fathers!


tbc
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Okay.. ^__^ I know Lily was said to be in Gryffindor, but... (hehe) She’s in Slytherin in this fic, okay.. I hope that doesn’t offend anyone.

Okay I started to get them together. They WILL get together. However H/D marriage bond is not a love spell. Their love comes naturally. The bond is more of a feeling that tells them that this is their mate. Their urges to protect each other and make each other happy is something that is within them. An unconscious feeling that they can’t help but act on. But the feeling is all theirs. Not magic. The magic is that they can’t help themselves from acting on it.

I hope that clears some things up.

I want to thank and give hugs everyone who reviewed. You truly make writing worth it. Thank you so much!! ^____^

oxoxoxo
babychan