To Love Again

Several days had passed since Harry sealed his pact with Malfoy. Harry sat alone in his bedchamber, staring down blankly at his red and gold covers, completely frustrated. He had spent countless hours trying to think of some inconspicuous way to communicate with the Slytherin, but to no avail. Owls were out of the question; as Malfoy had said, that would be too obvious.
They certainly couldn't allow other students to figure out what had come to pass between them, so face to face interaction was definitely not an option. But what other communication method was there? Harry groaned with exasperation and put his head in his hands, raked his fingers through his messy hair and made it stand on end even more.

He was about to give up when the bedchamber door creaked open and Neville entered. Upon seeing the unsuspecting, round-faced boy, a light clicked in his head. That's it, Harry thought excitedly. Why didn't I think of it before? The DA coins would be perfect! Now all he had to do was get his hands on one of them.

"Oh, hello Harry," Neville smiled warmly. "How have you been?"

"Better, thanks," Harry tried to sound casual. "Um, Neville, can I ask you something?"

Neville looked up from putting his books on his bedside table. "Sure, Harry. Anything."

Harry paused for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully as not to rouse any suspicions. "Well, I was wondering if you...er...still have your DA coin?"

Neville's face lit up at the mention of the coin. "Yeah, I still have it!" He pulled it out of his top drawer and showed Harry.

"Neville, I hope you don't mind me asking, but is there any chance that you might be willing to, er, part with it?"

"Do you want it, Harry?"

Harry's eyes lit up; this was so much easier than he thought it would be! "Yes, actually, that is, if you don't mind-"

"-'course not, Harry." The gold coin caught the fading sunlight as Neville held it out to him. "You can have it. I won't be needing it anymore now, will I?"

Harry laughed nervously, "No, definitely not."

After Neville left the room, he excitedly pulled a sheet of parchment out of his bag along with a quill and ink. As he scratched out a brief note to send to Malfoy requesting another meet, Harry smiled to himself. Absolutely brilliant.

"A galleon, Potter? This is your bright idea? Are you mad?" Malfoy's reaction wasn't quite what Harry was expecting as they stood together in an abandoned classroom after lunch the next day. The Slytherin looked confused and irritated as he turned the coin over in his hands, scrutinizing it front and back. Then he met Harry's gaze with a mocking smirk. "What are we supposed to do with these, Potter, pay each other for companionship? No offense, but this isn't enough to get me to say hello, let alone be your friend."

"They're not real galleons, Malfoy. They just look real." When Malfoy shot Harry a questioning look, Harry continued, "Here's how they work. We both keep our coins on us at all times. Whenever either of us needs help, the coins will heat up in our pockets. And if you look closely," Harry pointed to some lettering on the front of his own coin, "you'll see that the coin
indicates the time and date of our meeting."

"Where?" Malfoy asked, frustrated at not finding the lettering on his coin.

Harry had to get closer and lean into Malfoy a bit in order to look at the Slytherin's coin and determine why he couldn't see the lettering. As he did this, the Gryffindor was rather caught off guard by a wonderful scent that flirted with his senses. I wonder what kind of soap Malfoy uses.. Wait a minute, why am I even thinking about this?

"See? There's nothing on here," Malfoy held up the coin for closer view.

Harry tried to ignore his fleeting thoughts and took a better look at the coin. "That's because you're looking at the wrong side." His rough, slightly calloused fingers accidentally brushed the soft pampered skin of Malfoy's hands as he took the coin, turned it over and gave it back to Malfoy. It was hard not to think about the shock that surged through him when he touched the Slytherin.

Perhaps Malfoy felt it too, because his cheeks flushed and he seemed a bit flustered. Then Harry reminded himself that Malfoy had just experienced a 'blond moment' and was most likely just embarrassed.

"Oh, all right. Now I see it," Malfoy muttered as he looked closely at the lettering on the coin.

Harry was still standing close to the Slytherin, but he rationalized that he needed to in order to explain to Malfoy how the letters on the coin worked. "Whenever we decide on a time and date for our next meeting, the front of the coin will change to indicate that. Let's say, for example, that we agree to meet on Friday at seven o'clock." Harry then pointed at the new time and date that appeared on the coin in Malfoy's hand.

Malfoy looked impressed. "Wow, Potter, this is a good idea. I guess you're not such a dolt after all."

Harry chuckled at Malfoy's backhanded compliment. "So if I'm not a dolt anymore, does that mean that you're finally going to stop calling me Potter?"

Malfoy thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose I could. And I guess I'll allow you to start calling me Draco, so long as you don't call me that in front of the others. After all, I do still have my pride."

"All right, Draco," Harry nodded. "Now we need to decide when and where we're going to meet."

"Right, Pott…Har...Potter," Draco mumbled thoughtfully. "Let's see, it can't be on weekends; Quidditch practice, you know."

"And we can't meet too often, or people might start jumping to conclusions," Harry added. He leaned on the window sill and stared out the window, deep in thought until an idea came to him. "How about we meet every Tuesday and Friday evening at seven in the Room of Requirement?"
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Draco stretched out on his luxurious green and silver bed later that night, enjoying the peaceful stillness of the empty bedchamber. He held the magical coin that Harry had given him earlier and serenely watched the way it caught the silvery moonlight pouring in from an adjacent window. The front of the coin stated that their next meeting would be Friday of that week, which was just a couple of days away.

"Harry," Draco whispered to himself, trying to get used to the way the name felt and sounded on his tongue. It was strange, being on a first name basis with his former enemy; strange yet somehow comforting. He found himself kind of looking forward to their next meeting, which scared him. He wasn't supposed to look forward to seeing Po...er, Harry--even if they weren't
enemies any longer. After some deliberation, Draco decided that it was mere curiosity on his part, wondering what they would do or discuss when they saw each other again. Yeah, that's what it is! I'm just curious, that's all.

Although he wasn't tired, Draco changed into his pajamas and climbed under the covers. He as laying on his back and gazing at the shiny gold coin when he heard the voices of his roommates right outside the door. His heart pounding in his chest, he quickly hid the coin under his pillow, turned over on his side with his back facing the door, and pretended to be asleep.

The door squeaked open and Draco heard the distinct voices of Blaise and two other Slytherin boys as they treaded across the wooden floor. They were talking and laughing when suddenly one of the boys said, "Look. Malfoy's asleep already."

Blaise replied, "He's been nodding off early every night for a while now. It's a wonder he can sleep at all after everything that's happened to him."

"Aye," said one of the other boys. "It must be hell losing your mum and getting disowned by your father."

"It's worse than that even," Blaise continued. "You know how my father is best friends with Lucius Malfoy? Well, my father sent me an owl the other day. It turns out that Mr. Malfoy is plotting to kill Draco. It's just a matter of time, really."

Two gasps were heard, although there was a third, belonging to Draco. His eyes snapped open and grew wide with fear, his heart refusing to beat, let alone hammer with terror.

"Maybe you should warn Draco," one of the boys whispered after getting over his initial shock.

"Oh yeah," Blaise's voice was sarcastic, "What am I going to say? 'Hi Draco, you're dead meat'? No way! Besides, do you know what my father would do to me if I so much as said hello to him?"

Draco tossed and turned all night, drifting in and out of a fitful sleep. He was glad that he had overheard Blaise, even grateful to the point that he didn't mind that his ex best friend was willing to withhold this kind of information and gossip about it. He kept having horrible nightmares in which his father tortured him to the point of insanity as a faceless body lay dead on the ground.

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It was about ten minutes before seven o'clock when Harry stood by the blank wall across from the dancing troll tapestry. He paced back and forth in front of the wall three times while muttering, "I need a place where Draco and I can go to be alone and help each other." The familiar Room of Requirement door materialized, and Harry entered, closing the door behind him.

He smiled softly as he admired the room before him. There was a fireplace with a warm, roaring fire that did a more than adequate job of lighting up the entire room. In front of the fireplace was a soft, inviting couch that featured an ornate tapestry of red, gold, green and silver harmoniously interwoven into a beautiful design. Harry sat down on the couch and gently ran his finger across its lush fabric. Looking around the room, he saw a large, empty space that could be used if he needed to teach Draco magical self-defense and there were paintings on the wall, all of which seemed to depict enemies becoming friends. It was perfect. Now all he had to do was wait for the Slytherin to arrive.

At the first stroke of seven, the door opened and Draco entered looking quite distressed. Harry's eyebrows knit together with concern as Draco came closer, looking much like he did after receiving news of his mother's death.

"Draco, what is it?"

Draco didn't answer, but walked past Harry to sit down on the couch. He ran a hand over his sleek blond hair and stared worriedly into the fire.

Harry placed a hand on his shoulder. This time, Draco didn't try to shake it off.

"Its…it's my f-father," Draco whispered, his voice shaking with fear as he stared down at his hands and fiddled with the fabric of his robes. "I overheard Blaise and some of the other Slytherins talking the other night. It seems that my father is hard at work planning my demise."

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he watched the way Draco's delicate silhouette stood out like a shadow against the light of the fire.

Draco continued staring into the fire, avoiding Harry's gaze as he whispered, "My own father is going to kill me, and there's not a damn thing I can do to stop him."

It pained Harry to see Draco feeling so helpless, and he decided then and there that he would do everything in his power to stop Lucius. Harry's voice was full of strength and determination as he replied, "Yes, there is! But I need you to trust me."

Trust. That word terrified Draco. Although he had opened up to Harry more than he ever thought he was capable of, he was still afraid to trust the Gryffindor completely. What if Harry spilled his deepest, darkest fears and secrets to Weasel and Mudblood? What if he laughed at Draco behind his back? Was this part of some secret plan to retaliate after so many years of being sworn enemies?

Harry's gentle voice interrupted Draco's train of thought. "Look at me, Draco. Please."

Draco slowly turned his head towards Harry and found himself looking into the greenest, kindest eyes he'd ever seen in his whole life. Drowning in the depths of those remarkable orbs, Draco didn't see a single drop of spite. All he saw was honesty, dependability and a trustworthiness that was undeniably absent in his family and his fellow Slytherins.

Harry firmly held his gaze. "I won't let your father hurt you, and I won't let you face him unarmed. I've been fighting the Dark Side for six long years now, and I can help you prepare yourself for your whatever your father may have up his sleeve."

Draco looked a mite confused. "But how would you help me prepare?"

"I'll teach you every defensive spell ever invented, and coach you in proper dueling techniques. Hell, I'll even teach you how to deal with Dementors and Boggarts."

Draco looked more hopeful than he had since the beginning of term. "Are you really going to teach me all that?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "Sure, if you give me a chance. In fact, we can start your lessons at our next meeting."

"All right," Draco returned Harry's smile. Then he turned and frowned at the clock, which indicated that it was almost time for curfew. "Shall we be heading back?"

"Yes, it is getting late, but first there's something I need to ask you." Harry felt nervous about what he was about to ask Draco, and he hoped that this time he would actually get an answer. When Draco gave a consenting nod, Harry cautiously asked, "Why did you save my life?"

Draco sighed and bit his lip, looking down at the way the stone floor glistened in the light of the fire. An honest question deserved an honest answer, and Harry should know the truth. The Slytherin watched the flames dance and change shape as he began to speak. "I saved your life because, well, I tried to kill myself once and nobody was there to help me. So when I
saw you laying there on the bathroom floor, it reminded me of what I tried to do, and I couldn't just leave you there."

Harry stared at Draco with shock and disbelief. "But...why would you want to--"

"--it's complicated," Draco cut in. "You see, my father forced me to follow in his footsteps and become a Death Eater. Voldemort had ordered me to kill Dumbledore, but I couldn't do it. I didn't want to do it! I was afraid of what Voldemort would do if he found out that I couldn't fulfill the task, so I decided to take my own life instead."

Harry watched as Draco unbuttoned the cuff of his shirt and rolled up his sleeve to reveal a big, long scar that stretched from his left wrist almost all the way up his forearm. Harry felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and tenderly touch the injury; to gently run his finger over the line that marred the Slytherin's pale skin.

Draco continued, "This is where my Dark Mark used to be. As a Death Eater, I knew that I would die instantly if I removed the Dark Mark from my arm. So one day when my roommates were on holiday, I tried to use my wand to get rid of the Mark. I was bleeding all over the floor, but it wasn't enough. I knew there was a letter opener on my night stand, so I grabbed it and used it to tear through my chest." Draco made a slashing motion over his chest for emphasis.

"I can't believe you did that, Draco!"

"I was a desperate man, Harry. I didn't see any other way out." Draco looked over at Harry. He never thought he could feel so at ease with the Gryffindor. He felt so comfortable, in fact, that he decided to ask Harry a very disturbing question. "So how about you? May I ask why you tried to kill yourself?"

Harry raised his eyebrows; he wasn't expecting to be asked such a straight forward question. Nobody had ever asked him to explain his reasons for what he did, but then again he never really wanted to talk about it until now. "Well, it's like this. I’ve been surrounded by death all my life. It seems like everybody I care about eventually bites the dust. So when Ginny and I
started seeing each other, I did everything I could think of to keep her safe."

Draco suddenly became aware again of the heart that beat inside his chest; the heart that once belonged to Harry's girl.

"Thing is, Ginny was a stubborn one. She didn't want me to die, so when Voldemort tried to Avada me, she...she..." Harry paused, trying to maintain composure as he recounted the recent tragedy. "So anyway, I decided that life without Ginny wasn't worth living. I thought I'd be happier with her in the spirit world than here without her."

"It must've been hard for you, coming back here and seeing things that remind you of her."

That was probably the most compassionate thing he'd ever heard coming from a Slytherin. "It was," Harry nodded pensively. "In fact, that's a big part of why I've chosen to give up Quidditch."

Draco's jaw dropped. "You? Give up Quidditch?"

Harry shrugged, "It just reminds me too much of her, and it doesn't seem fair to keep playing when she…can't."

Draco opened his mouth to speak again, but the clock in the Room of Requirement struck nine, marking the end of their meeting. Draco turned to Harry, panic-stricken. "Damn! Now I'm going to be late!"

"Not to worry," Harry replied calmly as he pulled some silvery fabric from his bag and handed it to Draco. "I've used this many times to sneak about the corridors after hours, and without getting caught."

Not knowing what the material was, Draco shot Harry an interested look. "An Invisibility Cloak?"

"Not just any Invisibility Cloak. It's my father's Invisibility Cloak, and I'm loaning it to you."

Draco stared at the Gryffindor for a moment, taken aback by this small yet significant gesture. Did Harry really trust him with his father's Invisibility Cloak? Nobody had ever trusted Draco with anything before; then again, he'd never given anybody reason to trust him.

Harry smiled. "Go on, try it."

Draco grinned and draped the cloak over himself, delighted when his body seemed to vanish beneath him. "Are you sure you want me to use this? I mean, how will you get back without getting caught?"

Harry dismissed Draco's concern with a wave of his hand. "I know more secret passage ways than you can imagine. I'll be fine, trust me."

Draco was about to pull the cloak completely over himself and leave when Harry reached out to stop him. The Slytherin turned and looked at Harry, who seemed to have one last thing he wanted to say before they returned to their respective Common Rooms.

"Draco, I don't understand why we hated each other so much, when we had so much in common. We should have really been friends instead of enemies, and, well, I would like to regain all of those lost years."

Draco smirked and replied, "We will" before disappearing under the silvery fabric.

Harry smiled to himself as he watched the door open and shut, and listened to Draco's footsteps echoing down the corridor.