Dark Beginnings

“This room,” Snape began, turning to face Draco and Harry, “is warded and insulated. Nothing can penetrate and nothing can escape. Even,” he looked at Harry, “a spell from you.”



Harry cracked a smile. He liked this new working relationship with Snape and even if, or perhaps because, Snape knew all that had happened to him this past summer, he felt comfortable in the man’s company. And how twisted does that make me, he asked himself.



‘You’re not twisted.’ Draco glanced at him with a fond little smile, ‘You’re just adjusting to the way things are now.’



Harry frowned a little, unsure what Draco meant but Snape was talking again.



“In addition to the wards and insulators,” he said, “there is a dampening field. Any mistakes or errors of judgement will be controlled by the magic around us. However,” and his mouth twisted into a lop-sided smile, “I will be reducing that dampening field. And then, in time, even the slightest, tiniest spell will be greatly exaggerated. Therefore, Harry, you must learn to control yourself.”



Harry swallowed and nodded, wondering if he could do this. Draco moved then and squeezed the fingers of his left hand reassuringly.



“Also,” Snape went on, “I’ve activated a spell to allow the three of us to communicate. Yes,” he nodded as Harry opened his mouth, “I know you can hear Draco and myself, and we can hear you. But I can’t hear Draco unless he’s touching my forehead.”



‘So you can hear me now?’ Draco looked at him. Snape nodded and Draco’s smile widened.



‘Um…’ Harry began, shifting easily to communicating by thought. ‘When we’re communicating like this, it seems a bit…formal…to continue calling you Sir or Professor. Can we call you by your first name?’



Snape looked a little startled at that and blinked at Harry. ‘I’m still your teacher, he responded, by rights, you should call me ‘sir’ or ‘Professor’.’



Unable to help himself, Harry recalled the first Occlumency lesson he’d had with Snape and he remembered the way the Potions master had coldly rebuked him. It wasn’t until it was too late that Harry realised that Snape could of course hear his thoughts.



Snape, though, was looking vaguely apologetic. ‘It was my intention to teach you to take care of yourself; to protect yourself from the Dark Lord. I admit I was…’ he fumbled for the right words and then shrugged ‘…a bastard.’ He finished and shrugged again.



“But I know you care now,” Harry said to him, speaking aloud. “We already established that you don’t really hate me so you don’t have to hold yourself at a distance any more.” He paused then, giving Snape a searching look, “So can we call you Severus, then? Just while we’re alone and away from the rest of the school?”



Snape thought for a minute, his brows drawn together. “So long as it’s only when we’re alone or away from the rest of the school, yes.” He said at last. “And for God’s sake, don’t let Professor McGonagall hear you calling me by name. The woman already thinks I’ve crossed the line!”



‘You did, though.’ Draco interjected happily, ‘And I for one quite enjoyed it!’



‘You, Draco, are incorrigible!’ Snape growled but with no real menace behind it. He looked quizzically at Harry then, ‘Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?’



Harry laughed and squeezed Draco’s hand before nodding.



*~*~*



Their first session consisted of simple spells to defend and deflect anything that Severus cast at them. Harry, as Severus expected, struggled to hold onto his power. If the dampening field hadn’t been in place, he doubted if much of Hogwarts would have remained standing.



With time, however, Harry improved and they met for these Dark Art sessions three times a week: Tuesday evenings, Saturday mornings and Sunday afternoons. With the return of regular meetings with Dr Litworth on Mondays, Wednesday s and Fridays, Harry was struggling to keep up with his homework assignments. His position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team had been given to a fourth year student and Harry was surprised to find that he didn’t mind all that much. It wouldn’t have been the same in any case, he thought, without Draco facing him from the Slytherin side and it was much too dangerous for him to risk being targeted by his own team mates.



So Harry concentrated all his energy on struggling to keep up with his homework and practicing Dark Arts. After a month, Harry was finally able to at least control his abilities enough not to cast enough power to knock a charging rhino off its feet whenever Severus came at him with a well-aimed Stunning spell. Fortunately the dampening field worked well enough to ensure that even when Harry’s control slipped, only Severus’ hair got messed about.



He was still having troubles keeping the Dark magic under total control, however.



“Concentrate, Harry.” Severus commanded as, for the third time that morning, Harry responded with a jolt to his Disarming spell.



“’m sorry.” Harry muttered, angry with himself. He turned and paced a few steps away, trying to focus all his attention on holding back the power that was always there, always ready to leap from his fingertips. It was scary the way it seemed to have a will of its own.



“Again,” Severus sighed and cast the same spell.



“Sia sten dra!” Harry retorted, reigning in the power as much as he physically could. The result was better and Severus nodded, looking pleased.



“Good. Draco! Cast the elevation spell at me.” He ordered quickly, in an effort to spring a surprise on the blond youth who was watching Harry with interest.



Without missing a beat, Draco spun and cast: ‘Yn iaa crosaniae.’



‘Stae erat!’ Severus instantly returned, halting the spell in mid-air. ‘Ist aaren vor ebra!’ He added, casting a Stunning spell at Draco.



‘Stae erat!’ Draco responded, just as Severus had.



“Good! Excellent!” Severus congratulated him and, thinking that Harry, who wasn’t watching, was therefore not paying attention, he cast a last Disarming spell at him.



“Est iltr diurr aamiento!”



At the very first syllable, however, Harry snapped his head round and responded with the reversal spell that worked particularly well against such a move. At the same time, he held back the power; imagining that he was physically pushing it behind his back.



“Sia sten dra.” He muttered, fighting to keep his voice as steady as the flow of magic.



The spell, of course, dissolved mid-air and Severus’ eyes widened with approval.



“Not bad,” he drawled, deliberately playing down his praise. The corners of his mouth, however, were definitely twitching and Harry encouraged it by shrugging nonchalantly as if it was really no big deal. With another thrill of pride and a ripple of telepathic pleasure from Draco, he saw the Potions master smile for real this time.



“Tell me what you did.” Severus said then, coming towards him and dismantling the wards and insulating spells. Harry’s stomach had been growling for the past hour and it was indeed lunchtime. As Madam Pomfrey had advised, with Harry’s increased magical power, his body demanded more food to sustain his magical energy.



“I…” Harry began and then placed one hand over his washboard stomach to stifle another growl. Draco sniggered silently, drawing a bit of a grin from both Harry and Severus. “I just imagined myself holding it back. It sounds stupid but I sort of imagine it as this great big monster – the sort that Hagrid would fall in love with.”



Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head but Severus looked thoughtful.



“Can you picture it? This monster?” he asked, looking intently at Harry. When Harry nodded, he then went on, “This afternoon, I want you to work on that image. Imagine this creature being yours, your pet. Then imagine what it would eat, what it would need and how best to make it work for you.”



Harry nodded, already thinking about it. He paused then and gave Severus a slightly suspicious look. “You know,” he said, smiling a little, “for someone who claims to have no counselling qualifications, you do sound like a caring-sharing-psychiatrist, sometimes.”



The Potions master drew himself up to his full height and glared at Harry. “Potter, stop babbling nonsense and go to lunch.” He shot a look at where Draco was laughing silently, “And take this clown with you, too.” He added.



“You see? That’s much better.” Harry smirked, “That’s the evil tempered Professor Snape that we’ve come to know and love. Don’t you ever change!”



*~*~*



‘So you’ve got easy homework, then.’ Draco noted as he finished his lunch and reached for a dish of chocolate trifle.



Harry watched fondly as Draco’s eyes darkened with anticipatory pleasure. Chocolate, in any shape of form, was something that Draco loved and cherished above all things.



‘Almost all things.’ Draco corrected, giving Harry a seductive glance. Harry, however, flushed at that and dropped his gaze to his second helping of chicken and leek pie.



They been going out for six weeks and, even though they shared a room (and often a bed), he and Draco had done nothing more than kiss. It wasn’t for lack of desire – for Harry as well as Draco – but, as soon as Draco started to slide his hand under Harry’s shirt, for instance, he would freeze and so Draco would stop.



There was no pressure and no recriminations, but Harry still wished he could respond to more than just Draco’s kisses. After all, he thought, he wanted more – a lot more. Very often, when they lay together in the darkness, kissing with limbs entwined, Harry wanted nothing but to feel Draco’s body against him; skin on skin. But then, whenever Draco started to remove his clothes, Harry would suddenly recall his experiences at the hands of the various Death Eaters.



And that would be that. For the rest of the night, he would want nothing but to be held in Draco’s arms.



‘I’m sorry,’ Draco started to apologise but was interrupted as a large shadow fell across their end of the table.



“’Arry?” Hagrid greeted him with a slightly nervous smile.



Wanting to reassure his old friend, Harry looked up and returned the smile with a curious light in his eyes.



“I was wonderin’ if yeh fancied comin’ down fer a cup o’ tea, this afternoon?” Hagrid began and then glanced at Draco, “Both o’ yeh, if yeh like?”



Although he had an inkling what this might be about, Harry nodded and smile again, silently asking Draco if he wanted to come too.



“Yeah, okay.” He said a moment later, “Thanks, Hagrid. We’ll both be there. What time?”



“Eh? Oh,” Hagrid blinked at him. “Um…about three?”



“Make it three-thirty?” Harry suggested, “I’ve got some extra homework to do for Professor Snape.”



Hagrid agreed, giving Draco a glance and then, with one last smile at Harry, he went on his way.



‘What’s that all about?’ Draco looked at Harry with a little frown.



Harry shrugged, finished his pie and served himself some of the chocolate trifle before Draco could eat it all. What he thought, but kept from Draco, was that Hagrid might want to talk about the breakdown of his friendship with Ron and Hermione. After all, when they were thirteen, Hagrid had interceded in the feud between Ron and Hermione over Crookshanks and Scabbers.



‘About before – just now?’ Draco thought to him then and looked apologetic once more.



‘You don’t have to apologise.’ Harry replied firmly, looking into his boyfriend’s grey eyes, ‘If anyone should be sorry, it’s me. But you know I want you.’



‘I know. And I know why you can’t.’ A blanket of warmth and affection came with the words and Harry marvelled again that he’d never seen this side of Draco before.



‘You just let Weasley do all of your looking and thinking for you.’ Draco shrugged and then, when he was sure that Harry wouldn’t want any more pudding, he pulled the remainder of the trifle towards him with a look of childlike glee.



*~*~*



It was finally taking shape.



Harry lay, flat on his back on his bed, with his head resting on his arms and his entire body relaxed.



Within the realms of his imagination, the monster that was his power was now forming into a definite beast that he could see quite clearly with his minds eye.



It was truly enormous, just as one would expect it to be; with massive shoulders and huge, powerful limbs. Dark brown in colour, it had the softest fur and strangely gentle hands with soft pads, like an apes. The creature’s head was relatively small and Harry thought that perhaps he subconsciously considered his magical ability to be without much intelligence, despite having a will of its own.



The creature - named Caramon after the character in Draco’s books (also of limited intelligence) – wore a heavy leather collar, to which Harry very carefully connected a stout chain. This, he decided, was vital. At the end of the day, he reasoned, if Caramon represented his magical power, he had to have a means of harnessing and controlling that power; hence the strong chain.



He was just considering whether he dared test his control over the beast when not in Snape’s training room, when the bedroom door banged open and the next moment, after Draco took a running jump, Harry found himself crushed under the other young man’s weight.



There was really very little he could do; his hands were still behind his head and, up until that moment, he’d been completely relaxed and almost asleep.



‘Wake up!’ Draco’s thoughts chimed joyously through his head, ‘We’ve got to be at Hagrid’s in thirty minutes!’



“Half an hour?” Harry exclaimed, finally freeing his hands and grappling with the lithe Slytherin. “You dashed in here like your arse was on fire to tell me that I still had half an hour?”



As his fingers reached for the ticklish spots on Draco’s sides, the other young man wriggled and gasped, his silent squeaks and giggles filling Harry’s head.



‘Well, you take ages to get ready and you’ve been in here for hours.’ Draco complained, still trying to get away from Harry’s fingers and yet also attempting to do some tickling of his own.



‘You could have helped Severus!’ Harry retorted, pretending to be annoyed.



‘He said it was time you entertained me.’ Draco replied, grinning. His pale, silver-grey eyes were dancing with mischief and amusement. ‘Apparently, he doesn’t value my assistance in his workroom.’



Harry groaned and said aloud, “What did you do?”



Draco instantly assumed a positively angelic expression, belied unfortunately by the wicked glint in those eyes. ‘Rearranged his jars of floating things. Can you imagine storing platypus bills with duck bills? Who would file ‘P’s with ‘D’s?’



“Perhaps,” Harry began, struggling to keep a straight face, “someone who wanted all the different types of bill together? Were there jars labelled Ostrich Bills and Swan Bills too?”



Draco nodded happily and then managed to worm his fingers in under Harry’s t-shirt to find bare skin and instantly sought that spot, tickling again.



Harry yelled and thrashed sideways, kicking the wall and almost depositing Draco onto the floor.



“Boys,” Snape began and they looked guiltily to where he leaned in the doorway, “if you’re going to romp about, kindly have the decency to close the door.”



“Oi!” Harry exclaimed indignantly, “I was only trying to get Draco off…I mean,” he flushed and Snape raised one eyebrow. “Well, you see, Draco came and jumped on me and…” he stopped. “I’m not going to win, am I?” he asked then.



“Against two Slytherins?” Snape asked incredulously, “Be serious, Harry.”



Harry made a face, knowing he’d walked straight into that one. Getting up and straightening his t-shirt, he then pulled Draco to his feet and smirked at Snape. “I hear Draco thought he’d help with your cataloguing system.”



Behind him, Draco gave Snape a broad, cheeky grin and the Potions master glowered at him.



“That boy,” he growled with mock ferocity, “is a menace.”



Draco sniggered unrepentantly and sidestepped around Harry.



‘Don’t worry, Severus, he said, touching Snape’s forehead, when I reorganised your powdered supplies, I used a system that even you could understand.’



“What?” Snape exclaimed, looking alarmed, “They were already in a system, wretched child.” And with that, he spun on his heel and hurried back to his workroom.



‘I’m not a child!’ Draco fumed, staring after him. He turned and looked at Harry, ‘He called me a wretched child! Do you think Severus still thinks of me as a little boy?’



‘Maybe.’ Harry shrugged, stepping closer with careful steps. When he was just a few inches away, he brought his hands up to catch hold of the front of Draco’s shirt and then pulled him closer, ever so slowly. ‘It doesn’t matter, though. He thought to him, I don’t think you’re a child.’



And with that he kissed him, deeply and slowly. A moment later and Draco closed the gap completely and wrapped his arms around Harry’s shoulders, opening his mouth and exploring with his tongue. In turn, Harry moaned and laced his fingers at the small of Draco’s back before slowly sliding his hands down to cup his arse and tug him closer still.



‘You know, this is about as close as you can get whilst we still have our clothes on.’ Draco pointed out without thinking. Before he had a chance to kick himself for unwittingly suggesting that they go any further, Harry actually responded with another soft moan of pleasure.



‘That,’ he thought as he bit and licked at Draco’s lips, ‘is an excellent idea.’



With a tiny gasp, Draco’s eyes opened and he stared at Harry’s closed eyelids for a second before the other man opened his eyes. Continuing to kiss him, Draco noted how Harry’s eyes had turned almost teal-green with desire.



‘You don’t have to.’ He said immediately, even as his heart started to hammer.



“I know,” Harry murmured aloud, his breath warm on Draco’s parted lips, “but I want to. Is that okay?”



Draco wanted to ask just how far Harry was considering going with this brave plan. Was he proposing that they get naked and then simply continue to kiss? He wasn’t sure that he could cope with being quite so intimate and yet so restrained, but still he wasn’t about to push Harry.



The question, however, would just have to wait, he noted with a sigh. Their half an hour was almost up – they’d have to be at Hagrid’s in just a few minutes.



‘I know.’ Harry murmured silently, allowing Draco to see that he felt just as frustrated at the interruption. ‘But I won’t change my mind. I promise.’



‘It’s okay. You can change your mind as often as you need. You can take as much time as you need too.’ Draco replied, gazing at him and slowly, slowly disentangling his arms from around Harry’s shoulders. With one last, soft kiss, they parted and straightened their clothes and adjusted…certain…areas…that had become somewhat over excited in the heat of the moment.



*~*~*



Had Harry not been quite so caught up with wondering what Hagrid wanted to see him about and wondering when he and Draco were going to have an opportunity to explore this new dimension between them, he might have worried about how Draco would behave in Hagrid’s house.



After all, the Prince of Slytherin had never shown any courtesy or respect to Hagrid in the past and, whilst Harry might not be quite the same young man of a year ago, he nonetheless cared a lot for Hagrid.



Draco, however, behaved with exquisite courtesy and perfect manners. He sat, without even a flicker of an eyebrow, at Hagrid’s well-scrubbed, but rustic kitchen table and drank strong tea out of a chipped blue mug that failed to match any of the others in Hagrid’s cupboard.



When Hagrid offered him an iced bun, however, Harry felt he had to intercede.



‘Don’t try and eat it, whatever you do,’ he said to Draco, silently, as he took a bun himself with the intention of feeding it to Fang.



‘What?’ Draco looked across at him in alarm. ‘Why? What’s wrong with it?’



‘Oh, nothing like that. Hagrid’s a genuinely good person his baking skills leave something to be desired. Pretend to eat it and feed pieces to Fang – he really likes Hagrid’s cooking – oh! and don’t accept a stoat sandwich.’



With a cough, Draco swallowed a mouthful of tea and offered a polite smile as he shook his head at Hagrid’s offered plate of sandwiches.



“Well,” Hagrid sat down then and picked up his own mug of tea. “Nice to ‘ave yeh down ‘ere for tea, ‘arry. Been wonderin’ if yeh’d still want ter.”



“Hagrid,” Harry began reproachfully, “of course I’d want to come down and see you. But I’m up to my ears in work, homework and sessions with Dr Litworth.” He finished with a bitter edge to his voice.



“Ah,” Hagrid nodded, regarding him shrewdly, “didn’t think yeh’d much care fer talkin’ abou’ stuff. But Jenna’s a good’un, ‘arry. I can remember her from when she was a kid. She was very good wi’ animals, she was.”



‘Oh, well,’ Draco looked at Harry, ‘if she was good with animals, taming you should be a piece of cake.’



Harry glared at Draco and retaliated by sending him a mental image from his own imagination; himself, naked and writhing with pleasure in Draco’s arms.



At once, Draco dropped his smirk and crossed his legs under the table. He chipped off a piece of bun and fed it with slightly trembling fingers to Fang’s large mouth.



Hagrid, unable to follow their exchange, was nevertheless able to see that they had been communicating. “It’s true, then,” he said to Harry. “Yeh can hear his thoughts?”



Harry nodded, “It’s supposed to be a secret but I guess that’s not really possible in Hogwarts, is it?”



“Well,” Hagrid shifted uncomfortably, “anythin’ new or interestin’ ‘s bound to get people talkin’.”



“I suppose,” Harry replied ruefully. “Anyway, yes, I can hear Draco’s thoughts and I can transmit my thoughts to him or to Snape, or anyone.”



“Even me?” Hagrid said, looking vaguely hopeful.



‘Even you.’ Harry smiled and then chuckled when Hagrid recoiled a little.



“Well,” he said then, “it’s good, I s’pose that you and Draco can communicate, like.”



Harry nodded seriously.



“But it’s a shame yeh should stop communicatin’ with yeh friends, ‘arry.” Hagrid finished and narrowed his thick, black eyebrows at Harry’s sigh, “Now, don’t be like tha’.” He said sadly, “I know ‘ermione and Ron both miss yeh.”



Harry firmly clamped down on his own growing irritation, even as Draco sent him wave after wave of positive reinforcement. It was still so hard to hold on to his emotions, even after nearly six weeks.



“’Arry, why won’t yeh jus’ talk to ‘em?” Hagrid asked, a note of pleading to his voice. “I invited ‘em down ‘ere too. They should be ‘ere any minute.”



Feeling suddenly trapped and cornered, Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to remain still. Almost as if on cue, however, there came a knock to Hagrid’s door.



With a slight cough, Hagrid got to his feet and went to answer it; careful to avoid Harry’s eyes.



‘Calm down.’ Draco commanded silently, his eyes on Harry. He shifted then, moving round the table to sit on Harry’s left. ‘I’m here. Weasley isn’t going to hex you in front of me, is he?’



But that wasn’t what was bothering Harry. What was bothering him was the possibility that he might not be able to hold on to his temper or his power. He had managed to avoid being alone with Ron, Hermione or any of his other former friends for over a month now – and for good reason.



“Oh…” Ron’s voice intruded on his thoughts. “Well, okay…um…” he sounded rather surprised and, looking over to where Ron and Hermione were edging past Hagrid, Harry saw that they looked hesitant and vaguely uncomfortable.



‘Bet Hagrid didn’t tell them we were going to be here.’ Draco remarked within his head.



Harry nodded absently, his eyes on Ron and Hermione. Hermione looked just the same: slender, pretty and better for not being half-crushed beneath a bulging book-bag. Ron, however, seemed even taller than Harry remembered and not nearly so lanky as before; it seemed that he’d filled out at some point and Harry had failed to notice.



‘Unless you’ve suddenly decided you fancy him, I don’t know why you bother noticing it.’ Draco commented dryly, ‘It’s not as if you’re going to enter into unarmed combat with him, is it?’



‘Hush.’ Harry chided with an affectionate mental nudge to both reassure his partner and to take the edge off his rebuke.



“’Ere we are then,” Hagrid beamed enthusiastically as Ron and Hermione sidled into the seats opposite Harry and Draco. “There’s fresh tea in the pot, you two, and help yehself to sandwiches or buns. I’ll – er – I’ve got to go and…see…um…”



He didn’t actually finish his sentence. With a mumble at Fang, he collected his moleskin coat and left with the massive black dog in his wake.



*~*~*



Great, Draco said sarcastically to Harry, tell me why we’re here and not entangled in bed somewhere?



Harry coughed, reddening and shooting his partner a reproachful glance. Across the table, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other too and still neither pair said anything to the other.



This was how it had been for ten, very long, minutes now. Since Hagrid had left, neither party had broken the silence and nor was anyone eating or drinking.



‘Well, I’m not eating stoat sandwiches for anyone and there’s no dog to feed the cakes to.’ Draco retorted, answering Harry’s bemused thoughts.



“Oh, this is stupid!” Hermione then exploded, making the three young men jump. She grabbed the teapot and poured strong, stewed tea into her mug and poured milk from the jug before stirring it with unnecessary vigour. “Why you two can’t talk to each other is beyond me,” she went on, glaring at Ron and Harry.



Ron shifted about in his chair and refused to meet Harry’s eyes. Draco smirked.



“Harry, apologise to Ron for upsetting Ginny.” Hermione instructed, sounding like a primary school teacher.



Harry smirked too then and Ron glared.



“And, Ron, apologise to Harry for -”



“I’m not apologising to him!” Ron burst out, looking furious. “He’s the one who went off the deep end! He’s the one who made Ginny cry by kissing that slimy git!” he added, pointing at Draco.



Now it was Draco’s turn to glare – but then all attention shifted to Harry. Or rather to Harry’s mug.



At Ron’s words, the magical energy slipped momentarily through Harry’s grasp and his empty mug leapt into the air and smashed as it came down to land on the hard wooden table.



Ron and Hermione recoiled, looking alarmed, but Draco was instantly leaning close to Harry.



‘Easy.’ He murmured into his mind, ‘Breathe, Harry. Remember what Severus said?’



Nodding and trying to blot out Ron’s alarmed demands for explanations, Harry took a deep breath and tamped down on the power. He drew to mind his careful image of the monster, Caramon, but found that it was looking distinctly larger and rather more menacing than before.



Struggling to seize the imaginary chain and call the beast to heel, Harry was vaguely aware of the other three mugs doing a bizarre sort of tap dance across the table. At the same time, he noted that Ron and Hermione were now standing by the fireplace, looking stunned and a little frightened of the almost tangible magical aura around Harry.



‘Here,’ Draco said then, his mental voice loud, and Harry felt his partner’s hands take his own.



And suddenly there were two pairs of hands pulling on Caramon’s chain. Little by little, with Draco’s help, Harry was able to gain control of the power and he blinked away the sweat that had run into his eyes.



“I…” Ron began, his eyes wide beneath his red fringe. “What’s going on? Is he going to be all right?”



Wanting to answer for himself, but unable to catch his breath enough to speak, Harry nodded and looked over to where Ron and Hermione were still standing by the fireplace. Ron was as white as a ghost and Hermione was biting hard on her lip.



“Should we go and get Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione said at last and Ron looked quite prepared to run all the way.



Taking one look at Harry, however, Draco shook his head and drew out his wand and wrote on the table, ‘Don’t worry about it. He just needs rest. I’ll take him back to our room.’



Some part of Harry wanted to reassure his former friends; to tell them it wasn’t their fault – even though it was…sort of. But it was still early days yet – he didn’t have full control over his own powers and until that came about, he couldn’t hope to address contentious issues. Not yet. His emotions were far too involved still.



“’Our’ room?” Ron said then, his obvious disgust forcing its way through his shock and alarm. “You two share a room? Next thing, you’ll be telling me you share a bed?”



His tone was one of utter contempt and, coupled with his revolted sneer, it was enough to threaten Harry’s hold on Caramon’s chain. Struggling to hold onto his power, he gave Ron a cold, mirthless smile and sent him an image – the same image, in fact, that he’d drawn earlier – of himself, naked in Draco’s arms.



“Aagh! God, no!” Ron gagged, looking sickened, “I thought that – that kiss – was just to get at Ginny! Bloody hell, Harry, who would have thought you were a fudge packer!”



“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, truly appalled.



At the same time, however, Harry lost control. With a crash, the windows and picture glass shattered with the force of an explosion.



Draco, Ron and Hermione ducked instinctively to avoid the fragments of flying glass, but Harry remained rigidly upright; his power thrumming around him. In a fraction of a second, his skin was lacerated with dozens of tiny cuts and scratches.



“Harry…!” Hermione cried, seeing him. She moved to approach him but Draco beat her to it.



‘HARRY,’ he shouted to gain his partner’s attention. When Harry blinked and focused his eyes on the blond Slytherin, Draco almost buckled under the sudden wave of magical energy.



‘Pull it in,’ he ordered, forcing himself to take hold of Harry’s arms. ‘Come on, Harry, you did it before; you can do it again.’



“Can we help?” Hermione asked, her voice trembling.



Draco scowled and flicked his wand tip at the table. The words ‘GET SNAPE!’ appeared for a moment on the scrubbed wooden surface.



His pride wanted to tell them that they’d done quite enough. He wanted to beat Weasley to a bloody pulp for what he’d said and for causing Harry to lose control. But Severus would be able to help him sort out Harry and once his partner was stable, once he was safe – then, he’d make Weasley regret opening his foul mouth.



The door banged as Hermione dashed out of the hut and suddenly there were just the three of them remaining. Draco stood with his hands on Harry’s upper arms; Harry appeared almost catatonic with shock as the magic fizzed and crackled with almost total lack of restraint.



“I…er…I’ll just…” Ron stammered, looking thoroughly horrified. A moment later and he bolted from the hut; perhaps to follow Hermione, perhaps to drown himself in the lake – Draco found he didn’t much care which, really.



It was probably only a few minutes before Severus appeared in the doorway, looking harassed and dishevelled from charging across the school grounds. For Draco, however, it had felt like hours and his body was definitely sagging with the effort of holding onto his partner and preventing the magic from escaping their control completely.



“Draco…!” Snape exclaimed and reached his side in a second.



Placing his hands on the young man’s head, he then joined with his mind and swore softly at the obvious fatigue.



‘All right. Let me join with Harry and then you let go.’ He ordered and followed the invisible path to Harry’s consciousness as he slid his hands down from Draco’s head to his shoulders, along his arms and then placed his hands over Draco’s hands, gripping Harry’s arms.



Feeling his Head of House take over, Draco paused to make sure that it was safe, and then he removed his hands from Harry’s arms and collapsed onto the nearest chair. Being released from the struggle was somehow even more exhausting that remaining connected and he struggled to remain conscious.



‘Harry,’ Snape said silently. ‘Harry, show me your image of the monster. Show me the power.’



With a breathy little whimper, Harry’s thoughts coalesced and he revealed his image of Caramon.



“Shit.” Snape swore aloud.



Caramon, by now, was considerably larger than Hagrid’s hut and was not looking inclined towards easy recapture. Harry’s imaginary chain was still attached to the beast’s collar but it seemed all too thin and flimsy to bear much tugging.



‘Okay, let’s start with that.’ Snape murmured silently and he drew a thick, heavy chain; the sort that might be attached to a ships anchor. As he and Harry attached it to Caramon’s collar, so the beast instantly bowed under the weight of it and Snape saw it as soon as Harry did.



‘Harry, this is your power,’ he said then, ‘and as such, you’re going to have to regain control over it. I’ll help but you’ll have to do the lion’s share. Do you understand?’



‘Tired.’ Harry responded, swaying a little.



‘Nonsense!’ Snape retorted, bringing an edge of anger into his telepathic voice, ‘You can’t be tired, Potter. You have all this energy at your disposal! Don’t just let it flap around and go to waste – use it, boy!’



A flare, a flash of anger lit up in Harry’s eyes – rather like the irritation that once danced there in the days when the mean old Potions master used to get under his skin.



‘That’s it, Harry!’ Snape urged, black eyes intent on green, ‘Force it to return to you. This is your power, damn it! You developed it – God knows how! And it damned well belongs to you. Call it in, boy – make it work for you!’



And with a supreme effort, Harry grasped the imaginary chain in two hands and pulled hard on it, imagining himself to be leaning back with all his weight, in order to force the monster to come down to his level. It was almost impossible at first; Harry might as well have tried to pull down the moon as try to call Caramon to heel.



But then, after an initial jolt, the power started to flow back towards him and Caramon shrunk in size.



‘That’s it. Good. Pull again.’ Snape encouraged, sweat beading on his pale forehead.



Harry gasped and panted, as if he really was hauling a giant monster to his side with a chain as thick as his own leg. Little by little, the monster shrank and Harry absorbed the magical energy.



“Can you contain all of it?” Snape asked aloud, “It might be easier to control it if you have it all contained in the first place.”



Harry opened his mouth to reply but his slip in concentration allowed Caramon to swell in size with a ripple of magic.



Panting and sweating, Harry reclaimed the lost ground and doubled his hold on the chain before opting to communicate silently.



‘Didn’t I have it all contained before?’



Snape gave a little smile, ‘You leaked, Harry. Didn’t you notice the way odd little things happened around you?’



Harry shook his head. Pushing a much more manageable-sized monster behind his back, he imagined clipping the chain (now also smaller) onto his belt and looked at Snape.



“What sort of things?” he asked then, sounding exhausted.



Snape gave him a lopsided smile as he pushed Harry into a chair beside Draco and sat down himself. “Depending on your mood, things would fall over, plants would lose their leaves or the roses in the courtyard would suddenly burst into bloom. Professor Sprout’s been getting quite agitated, considering it’s early November.” He looked then at Harry’s face, startled by his fatigued expression and decided to expand on this subject at a later date. Right now, he needed to get both these young men back to their room with as much speed and as little fuss as possible.



“Draco, wake up.” He urged, giving the blond youth a gentle pat on the shoulder.



At once, Draco’s grey eyes snapped open and he sat up straight with only a slight droop to his shoulders to tell of his tired state.



“We’ll floo back to my rooms,” Snape said. “If I’m with you, the fireplace will let you in.” And with that, he hauled both of them to their feet and helped them to the fireplace.