Blood is Thicker Than Fear

I do not own any of these characters. I do not even own a car! Seriously, guys.

A.N: If you\'re confused...so am I. I just write what the little voices tell me to. Sorry I haven\'t gotten to the sex yet...I will, though....after I set the mood....

~text~ = TELEPATHIC CONVERSATION

CHAPTER IV


Harry rolled his eyes as he once again found himself panting, doubled-over, supporting himself on a statue. Starting tomorrow, he was running laps. After composing himself, he looked up to see the door that led to the spiraling staircase to Dumbledore’s office. “Fizzing Wizbee.” He stated to the gargoyle before him. It leapt aside obediently, as the doorway revealed itself. Harry stepped onto the escalator-like stairway to Dumbledore and Snape. He heard shouting, so thought it best to wait until things cooled down, until he heard what was unmistakably, Narcissa’s voice. “Oh, just get in!”
Harry swallowed and entered. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, rubbing his temple, Snape was pacing furiously, while Narcissa sat on Dumbledore’s desk in the lotus position, apparently trying to concentrate (which was rather difficult with Snape acting like Mrs. Weasley would in the situation). She opened one eye, and coughed pointedly. Snape looked up, and muttered, “Sorry…” and sat down. Harry followed suit. Fawkes sat at the bottom of his perch—merely a chick, nestled, fast asleep, in a soft cushion of ashes.
“It’s useless, Albus. If Draco doesn’t want to be found—he won’t be found.”
Dumbledore lifted his head, exhausted. “Well, can you think of where he might be…?”
“I might…know something.” Harry interjected hesitantly. Everyone looked at him expectantly. “Well…it’s a long shot, but I remember when his father was taken to Azkaban, he was really upset. I was kinda mean to him about it…and when he couldn’t take it anymore, he left. I was curious where he was going, so I followed him. He went to the forbidden forest. It was nighttime, so it was kinda hard to see exactly where he led me to, but it was a good half-hour back north.”
“Worth a shot,” Narcissa said as she hopped off the desk, grabbed her broomstick and headed toward the great oak doors. Snape followed suit. Dumbledore knelt before the hearth, threw in a fistful of glittery powder, and stated “infirmary”. After only a moment, Madame Pomfrey’s face appeared in the flames. “Poppy, if Sirius is feeling alright, could you tell him and Remus to come to the floo?”
“Of course, headmaster.”
After some hustling and bustling, Sirius’ and Remus’ faces appeared in the flames. They looked at Dumbledore expectantly (apparently, after so many years of being both reprimanded and ordered around by him, they knew when to talk, and when not to).
“Draco has left—we have reason to believe he is somewhere in the forest. I want you two to go track them.”
He was acknowledged by two deep barks.
Dumbledore smiled and turned to Harry. “Who said a werewolf and an illegal animagus wouldn’t come in handy?”

When they all had their broomsticks (Harry with his compass that Hermione had given him), they took off into the night sky. Harry could have sworn he saw two wolf-like dogs running side by side beneath him. After a five minute journey over the forbidden forest, they landed to begin their search on foot. They thought it best to separate to increase their chances of finding their query. Harry headed south, Snape east, Narcissa west, and Dumbledore north.
The way was difficult. There was no path, and it was quite dark. Dumbledore had told him not to use the lumos charm, as it may chase away Draco, and arouse less-welcome creatures. Twigs and branches left dozens of shallow cuts on his face and neck, and he had tripped several times already over the upraised roots of trees. As if that weren’t bad enough, some of the trees tripped him on purpose, and then laughed at him. After being tripped by a menacing tree for the umpteenth time, he pulled out his wand and was just about ready to curse said tree into last week when he heard heavy, erratic breathing. Harry did not need the lumos charm to see who it was. He couldn’t have missed that luminous silver hair glinting in the moonlight if he was blind. He walked slowly over to Draco, to see he was sitting with his knees against his chest, and his fist grasped firmly to his hair. He looked as though he was having a fit or something.
He sent green sparks into the air to indicate that he had found Draco, but Remus was already beside him. He knelt down beside Draco and began gently rubbing his back, and consoling him like a parent would a child who had just had a nightmare. Harry knelt next to him. “What’s wrong with him, Remus?”
“Well…it’s hard to explain. It’s a sort of magical panic-attack. I used to have them a lot when I was at Hogwarts. When person is forced to keep their magical energy pent-up; during times of intense fear, anger, or frustration, it usually has a tendency to backfire on the magician. It’s over after a few minutes…but during an attack it feels like you’re dying.” He continued to console Draco when the rest of the search party appeared. Apparently, Harry was the only one who hadn’t known what was happening (or going to happen) because Narcissa replaced Remus in trying to console him, and Snape pulled out the same vial that Draco had left on his desk, and gave it to Draco. Draco opened his eyes as slightly as he could while still being able to see, and drained the flask with obvious effort. After a few moments, he relaxed and closed his eyes.
“You’ve got to stop doing this to him, Albus.” Remus said, “I can’t believe you would put another child through this after you saw what it did to me, because of some stupid prediction. I thought you were better than that.” With a swish of his cloak, he apparated to Grimauld place. Sirius gave an apologetic look to Dumbledore, and apparated after Remus.
“Headmaster, don’t heed them—it’s necessary—Draco knows that—“
“No. he’s absolutely right.” He sighed and stood. He looked up to Aquarius and said, “I have been so busy with the ministry, and Voldemort, and everything that I hadn’t realized how quickly Draco’s powers were maturing. Narcissa--I want you to fetch Remus, and tell him that I’d like him to begin coaching Draco in controlling his abilities. Snape—go get Draco’s father, and bring him here.”
“But—but professor—how am I to—“with a look from Dumbledore, he closed his mouth. “Yes, headmaster.”
Snape and Narcissa gave each other befuddled looks before apparating to their assigned missions. Harry looked down at Draco, to see him tracing circles in the dirt. His eyes were blood shot, and the skin beneath them was a prominent grey-blue. Harry reached out a hand to help him up, and Draco accepted. He looked to Dumbledore with a countenance Harry could not identify. Was it hate? Shame? Sensing his gaze on him, Dumbledore turned from the sky to face Draco. “Can you return to the infirmary on your own?”
“Yes.” Before Harry could turn from Dumbledore to Draco, he was already gone. Dumbledore motioned for Harry to grab his broom. After a moment of silence, Dumbledore spoke. “Am I old, already?”
Harry did not quite know what to say. Dumbledore was an old man, but he never seemed old…until one year ago.
Before Harry could answer, Dumbledore had already taken off into the stars.

When Harry and Dumbledore reached the Great Hall, Sirius, Remus, Narcissa, McGonagall, Moody, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks were already sitting around the solitary table that lay in the great hall. Mrs. Weasley was giving Narcissa furtive, snide looks, while Mr. Weasley was deep in concentration, trying not to think anything—afraid he might unwillingly offend Narcissa, who was psychic. Narcissa merely crossed her arms, shook her blond head and laughed to herself. Remus, exhausted from the night’s events, was resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder, while he gently stroked his hair. Harry sat across from Sirius, and Dumbledore sat next to Moody. They all sat in waiting, silently, for Snape to return with the infamous Malfoy.
Draco entered the hall some minutes later, accompanied by Madame Pomfrey—just in case.
Dumbledore spoke quietly to Moody, Poppy, and McGonagall, while everyone sat in waiting. Draco seemed paler than usual. He was obviously petrified. Harry smiled despite himself. This git was supposed to be one of the greatest sorcerers of the age, and he was afraid of one measly little wizard? Must have been some childhood. Without even realizing he had been staring at Draco, he was startled when he noticed that Draco was staring at him to. Harry figured he might as well break the ice.
“Scared?”
“Terrified.”
That was pretty much the end of the conversation. Harry was dying to talk to him about their kiss, but at the moment, that seemed impossible—until he heard Draco’s voice inside his head.
~What about it? ~
~Well…why did it happen, for starters? ~
For a moment, there was silence between them while Draco thought through his answer. ~I suppose it was bound to happen, eventually. ~
~What? What do you mean, ‘bound to happen?~
Draco laughed inside his mind—it was very eerie. ~you are not serious. ~
~….~
~There has always been a connection between you and I—a creepy bond, if you will. We are always there for each other in the worst way. It’s like we’re best friends, only best enemies. We always go out of our way to see each other~ he bowed his head and stared at his hands on the table. ~Even if you don’t like to admit it, there’s always been certain…”attraction” between us. Maybe I was the only one perceptive of us to notice—who knows? The point is, for some strange reason, I can always tell when you’re hurt. I could tell when Voldemort had you under the crucatius curse, when Sirius died—rather like the connection between you and Voldemort, only ours isn’t artificial. It hurts like hell when you’re in pain. ~ after he had finished, he looked up to see Harry turned toward the window, deep in thought—obviously trying to remember the times he and Draco had spent together. He was absolutely right. Harry turned back to Draco as though he was the last person on earth alive after the apocalypse—and they had just found each other. That was certainly how he had felt.
The bond between them was broken when Snape entered the hall with a swollen eye alongside Lucius Malfoy, who had a bloody nose. “You know,” Lucius began, “You didn’t HAVE to attack me—I would’ve come anyway.”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
“Well, you never cared to ask, did you?—you insensitive git—I’ll bet you forgot my birthday, too.”
“I did not! It’s in two…oh…sorry, Lucius.”
Dumbledore stood and raised his hand to break the silence. Lucius and Severus took seats across from Dumbledore. I’m glad to see there were no difficulties in bringing Malfoy here. Malfoy snorted and folded his arms. “What do you want, Dumbles?” he asked impatiently. “I would like to get back to murdering and pillaging, if you don’t mind.” He added sarcastically.
“You are here, on behalf of Draco.”
Lucius raised a confused eyebrow, and jumped from his chair when he saw his son seated across from him. “DRACO!” he yelled as he pointed his finger to the door, “GET YOUR WHITE-PURE-BLOOD-BUTT OFF THAT CHAIR AND GO TO THE MANOR!”
“Now really, Lucius,” Narcissa spoke softly. “He’s here with me.”
“Oh, good! You’re here! It just so happens—“he reached into his cloak and pulled out an official-looking roll of parchment—“that I have the divorce papers with me!”
Narcissa glared at him. “You are seriously going to divorce me, because I don’t want to support Voldemort?”
“No…I am seriously going to divorce you because now my grandfather is dead and I no longer need to be married to a pure-blood woman.”
Narcissa laughed. “I love you too, Lucius.”
“Wait…” Arthur began, “Why did you come so willingly if you’re a death-eater?”
“I’m not a death-eater.”
“Then how come you were at the death-eater ring last summer!” Harry shouted as he stood from his chair.
“Were you there? Are you a death-eater? No. Your theory is flawed. I was there, because I was most likely expected by Tom to be there.”
“Tom?” everyone said, slightly disgusted, in unison.
“Yes, Tom. Get over it. He’s gotten his youth back; you know…it feels weird to call him Voldemort when he looks like that.”
Now it was Dumbledore who spoke, “Really…how did he manage that?”
“Some philosopher stone imitation. It’s very powerful, but still not the same thing. He can still be killed—don’t worry about that. He just turned back the clock a little. Now he looks and feels forty again.”
“Forty is not that young.” Harry said.
“It is if you’re a wizard, and are probably going to live well into your hundreds. He’s 43, and looks thirty.” Sirius alleged.
“Yeah…I suppose that’s true.”
Dumbledore coughed pointedly. “If you don’t mind ceasing the pleasantries, we do have some serious business to attend to. If everyone would be so kind as to follow me, please.” With a billow of purple robes, Dumbledore left the Great hall and headed toward the dungeons as an anomalous crowd followed.


A.N>>>REVIEWS ARE THE FIRE THAT KEEP THIS STROY GOING!!! I\'LL TRY TO GET TO THE SHAGGING AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE,M BUT I DON[T WANT HARRY TO BE A SLUT--HE JUST DOESN\'T HAVE IT IN HIM!!! HE\'LL HAVE DRACO IN HIM THOUGH, DON\'T FRET!