Chocolate Eyes

disclaimer: i do not own Harry Potter


Forward

The final battle against Voldemort dragged for hours. In the end Harry was found passed out in front of the entrance to Hogwarts…five yards from Tom Riddle’s corpse. Harry was taken to St. Mungoes when there was no improvement in his coma after three days in the hospital wing. It was over two weeks before the Boy-Who-Lived returned to the waking word…and discovered what he had lost.


Chocolate Eyes

Harry could hear the whispers of others. He heard his name spoken, they called out to him. He needed to let them know he was ok. They were begging him to open his eyes. Was that why everything was so dark?

“Please…Harry…your eyes…just open…”

Harry tried to do as the voice asked. But when he finally did get the heavy lids to lift the light almost blinded him.

“Harry! Oh god!”

“Her…mione?” Harry moaned.

“Yes, yes! I’m here. Ron will be back in a minute.”

“W…where?” Harry tried cracking his eyes once more and hissed as the light burned into his brain as a golden sliver.

“You’re at St. Mungoes. You wouldn’t wake up and they said you would do better here. Harry, we didn’t know if you would wake up!”

“Shh…hh. I…is h…e dea…d?” the question was punctuated by another moan as his eyes opened a bit more.

“Yeah. Yes Harry. V…Voldemort is dead. You finished it!”

Harry nodded then halted as a wave of nausea washed through him.

“You should try not to move so much, Harry,” Hermione told him as her cool hand stroked his forehead.

“Ung…yeah…Mione?”

“What is it Harry?” her voice spoke of relief. Had Harry been fully aware he might have noticed the tears splattering on his cheek.

“D…Draco? I…is Draco safe?”

“What?” the hand stopped it’s stroking.

“D…Draco? Is he here? I…is he s…afe?”

“Why do you want to know about that bastard?” Hermione demanded her voice hard with hatred.

“N…not bastard…n…not…wh…ere…is…Dr…aco?”

“He’s dead. And good riddance to. The bastard tried to hex you right before Ron took him out with a Patrificus. Harry? Are you ok? Why are you crying?”

“G…go away…”

“What? Harry I…”

“Go AWAY Hermione! D…on’t come back…d…don’t l…let R…R…on in. N…neither of…you…”

“Harry your not making sense!”

“GET OUT!”

He heard Hermione leave, her feet heavy.

Harry wept.

~~~~~~

It took more than a week for Harry to satisfy the healers enough that he could leave. He hadn’t allowed any visitors in that time.

But now he had escape from them. He still had the seventh year to complete at Hogwarts. And where else had he to go to?

~~~~~~

Harry settled himself at the Gryffindor table and fought the instinct to glance at the Slytherins. Draco wouldn’t be there. Draco wouldn’t be anywhere. He felt tears building behind his eyes.

“Harry!” a feminine voice cried from across the hall.

Harry glanced up, his flat green eyes, made to sparkle by his unshed tears, focusing on one Pansy Parkinson. She was running towards him. Harry blinked. What did she want?

“Harry!” the girl yelled again and Harry suddenly found himself knocked backwards as she all but mauled him.

“Get off him you bitch!” Hermione yelled, her wand out. The hall seemed to become dead as silence fell.

Harry turned his head just enough to see the half of Pansy’s face not buried in his chest. He could faintly make out a tall, dark figure standing a few feet away through the haze of Pansy’s blonde hair.

The moment of still silence collapsed in upon itself as Pansy was ripped off of Harry by an arm belonging to Ron. Shouts, most from Hermione and Pansy, filled Harry’s ears and he wondered if he was supposed to care about any of this.

“Harry,” a male voice whispered in his ear and for one insane moment Harry thought it was Draco. He looked and felt his heart drop. It was Blaise. “Tell them to let go of Pansy before someone gets hurt,” Blaise hissed.

Harry moved his eyes back to the scene. He blinked. Was that right? Pansy was crouched over, trying not to be pulled backwards as Hermione pulled on her hair and Ginny screamed in her face and Ron tried to pull Hemrione off and Hufflepuffs shouted at the lot of them.

“Stop.” Harry whispered. He wasn’t sure how they heard him, he hadn’t even heard himself. But they all froze. “Let her go,” he whispered, his voice horse. “Leave her alone.”

Hermione let go of Pansy’s hair and Harry could see that she was crying.

“Why are you doing this?” she wailed and ran from the hall. Harry didn’t pay any more attention. Let the teachers sort it all out. Let the students rip each other apart. He didn’t give a fuck.

“Harry,” it was Pansy again. Now free of Ron, Ginny, and Hermione she was speaking to him, her hand on his face.

Harry didn’t look up. He was tired of looking.

“Harry, I’m so sorry. I…I can’t believe he’s gone either,” Pansy told him and Harry finally took a good look at her. He nearly choked as he saw what he had failed to notice. The half of her face that had been hidden from him before was brutally scared. It almost looked like her skin had melted from it’s proper place. Maybe it had.

“But he is gone,” Harry said, not even meaning to speak.

“No, he’s not,” Blaise hissed in his ear. Harry sat bolt upright, his forehead crashing against Pansy’s with a sickening thud.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK MOTHER FUCKER!” Pansy howled, clutching her head.

Harry rubbed at the spot where his skull must have cracked but tried to ignore it in favor of staring fixedly into Blaise’s azure eyes.

“Not here,” Blaise whispered. “We can find him.”

Harry said nothing.

~~~~~~

“What did you mean?” Harry demanded. He was in an abandoned classroom with Pansy and Blaise, two of Draco’s closest friend.

“I mean he’s not dead,” Blaise said calmly even as the air began to prickle with Harry’s magic. “Not in a literal sense of the word anyway. He’s in what some wizards call a ‘Imotive’ state. It means he’s near enough to dead that most people would think he was. But I managed to get a good look at him before they buried him, his soul is still attached to his body. If we move quickly we could…”

“We could bring him back?” Harry said, his voice filled with awe and hope.

Pansy scowled and shook her head. “It’s not that simple. Because his body IS dead we have to get him a new one. Then we have to transfer his soul into the new body. It’s dangerous and easily fowled up.”

“Do you think I care?” Harry ground out his eyes flashing gold.

The Slytherins recoiled at the sudden burst of heat in the room.

“Tell me how,” he said, his voice something not quite human.

The two Slytherin’s glanced at each other.

It was Pansy who finally told him, “You have to kill someone.”

“Who?” Harry asked, uncaring that they had just told him that he must once again become a murderer. He had no care for right and wrong any longer. He had done what the world wanted. It was now time for what he wanted. And he wanted Draco back.

“Um, anyone really,” Pansy said, her one good eye wide with shock. She had never expected Harry to be this willing. Even when he had been preparing for his confrontation with Voldemort he had been a bit squeamish about killing.

“Anyone?” Harry asked, half in incredulity.

“Um… yeah. You just have to have a body for Draco’s soul to come into. But you don’t exactly KILL them. You have to make them almost dead, just far enough along that their spirit leaves and the body is vacant.”

“Will Advada kadavra work?” Harry asked.

“Only if you can control it to do what Pansy just described,” Blaise told him.

“Then what?”

“The two bodies have to be close together. The easiest way would be to have the person standing on top of Draco’s grave-”

“Where is it?”

Blaise sighed and gave the location and directions to the grave.

“How long to I have?” Harry asked, his mind hardly on the question.

“Probably no less than a week. The spirit begins to lose it’s grip after a month or so,” Blaise said.

“What is the spell?”

Again the Slytherins glanced at one another.

“It’s…it’sn not an exact spell…exactly,” Pansy said, her voice failing her.

“There are no set words for it. You have to want the persons soul bad enough to hear the words in your own head. Then you speak them. That’s how it works,” Blaise said. He raised a hand to stop Harry from leaving but it was to late. Harry was gone.

“Think he’ll survive the spell?” Pansy asked, her voice betraying her worry.

“I think…either way, he’ll be better off,” Blaise said with a sigh.

~~~~~~~

Harry eyed the trembling boy with a thoughtful remorse. It was to bad that the boy had to die. But he knew Draco would be pissed if he picked someone else. This boy, after all, did have an uncanny resemblance to the Slytherin ice prince. True, his eyes were chocolate brown instead of silver and he was a year or two younger than Draco but he was the closest Harry could find.

“I am sorry about this,” he told the boy and raised his wand. “Avada…Kadavra,” Harry whispered. He used pure force of will to keep the spell under his control, allowing the tip to touch the boy. Millimeter by millimeter he let the spell sink in. When he felt that sudden fleeting of life on the air he pulled the spell back. It was harder than he had imagined.

Kneeling Harry felt for a pulse. There it was, faint but there. He smiled.

He stood and waited. Nothing happened. Biting his lip he closed his eyes and called silently for Draco to speak to him. A tingling at the back of his neck made him shudder.

He stood still, waiting for the shudder to come again. When it did he caught at the magic that he felt and pulled it deep inside himself. It settled in his gut and he felt himself speak, “Naris’to forlis nakir morien jafe!”

He opened his eyes and felt tears fall onto his skin. Blinking hard he tried to focus his eyes on the body. It wasn’t there. Feeling a sudden panic Harry spun around. There he stood. He was….standing…Harry felt his legs give out.

“I…I think I’m alive…” the boy muttered.

“Draco?” Harry moaned.

The boy glanced at him. The body was only fifteen, the eyes were brown, the voice softer…but…it was Draco’s kiss.

“I missed you love.”


____________________________
A/N: Don't forget to review