The Phoenix Follies: HSL: I Can't Survive On My Own

The next week was quick. Harry made his early appearance at breakfast the first morning, only to be nabbed by MaGonagall right after he'd finished and taken to her office. There, they had spent an hour going over possible trades he could undertake. Medicine was ruled out when Harry thought about the kind of gore he might have to deal with (after so long being hunted by Voldemort, who wants to see that?) but MaGonagall suggested he take a few first aid lessons anyway. They ruled out other options for various reasons until only two were left. High-Transfiguration and Potions Making. Harry stared at the two. It was as if he were having to choose between his house and adoptive father. With a sigh, MaGonagall made the decision for him.

"As fond as I am of you," she said, "I know very well that your interest in transfiguration is minimal."

He looked up at her, searching, then back to the page, so many words crossed out upon it. The boy was quiet for a long while before he nodded and crossed out the last dismissal. After that, MaGonagall left him in the office while she went to speak with Dumbledore. She came back with a new schedule and promised to pick up the new books he'd need in the evening. Harry thanked her and went on to his second class for the day.

Why he had to learn Ancient Runes was beyond him, but he didn't mind too much. Harry settled down next to a Ravenclaw, Mandy Brocklehurst, who only inquired about his health once the whole time. He was glad for it and got along with her well.

Harry was careful to keep from being alone out of the common room. He never walked the halls without a Gryffindor, as most of them were too protective to let it be otherwise. Some of them even risked being late to keep the boy company. Others that shared his next class would show up at the door as soon as it was over and walk with him to their next one. Harry was very grateful to them all, even if they continually asked the question, "Are you okay?"

Snape was surprised at Harry's sudden turn to his profession, but hardly commented on it. There were more Slytherins along his track, but not Parkinson, Goyle, or Crabbe. And he had Mandy. It was odd how suddenly they became friends, but he tried not to question it. She was kind enough that he did, however, wonder why they had not been friends before.

Mandy was a tall and plain looking girl with squared glasses and a sulky expression. Her hair was so dark brown that it looked black in the right light and was always pulled back into a ponytail, bangs covering her forehead and framing her face. Instead of having one color for her eyes, they changed between green and blue depending on her moods. Harry learned this after a heated debate in Ancient Runes.

On Thursday, Hermione and Harry sat in the Library, going over volumes for a joint Potions assignment. As their fields were so close, they had many classes together. It was nice to see her fall back into the normal studying habits. Hermione was vague at best unless she had her nose in a book. Her firmness in the other Gryffindors' study was lacking these days, but that was missed only a little.

"Harry?" she asked suddenly. The black haired boy glanced up questioningly. Hermione worried over her words for a moment before setting down her quill. "Harry, what do you think of Ron?"

He blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" She paused and chewed her lip a moment. "He likes you, Harry."

The boy was silent. His green eyes were wide with incredulity and some fear. She studied him intently. And then his lips parted to speak.

"Ron's straight."

Hermione gave him a little, barely there smile. "Full bloods rarely are, Harry. I've been reading up on it…"

"Are you calling all full bloods gay?" asked Harry with a raised brow. She shook her head lightly, the look on her face that she always got when she knew something no one else did.

"Not exactly. Harry, you and I grew up with muggles so we think like muggles and see the world like muggles," she started. "Well, wizards think differently than muggles. See?"

"Not exactly…"

"Wizards…don't really care about sexuality." He blinked at her. "Bisexuality is much more prevalent than heterosexuality."

He stared at her. And then he went completely red. "You mean that Ron…"

"Yes, Ron is bisexual."

Harry groaned and dropped his head on the book. Hermione almost felt sorry for him but she wanted to get her point across. Her best friends' happiness were at stake. "That means even NEVILLE could have a crush on me-"

"No, he actually IS straight…"

"That's so reassuring…How do you know this, anyway?"

"I'm psychic."

Harry groaned again and covered his head with his arms. A small, very quiet laugh made his cheeks flush even more.

"Damn it! Not now!"

Slim, almost white hands batted at those moving over his body, attempting to infiltrate the layers of clothing. Talented fingers knew every sensitive spot, every plane of flesh, every bump and ridge. He couldn't help the small sound of contentment that fell from his lips nor his rushed breath as the lithe body pressed to his. Hot breath hit his skin as a gifted mouth did the most wonderful things to his throat.

Surrendering to the arms of carnal pleasure, he let the other tease and torment him for good while before finally throwing the boy down and ravishing him. The stone floor wasn't as cold as it would have been during the winter, but it did have a cool bite that neither cared about until they were finished. They lay beside each other, recovering, their breathing intermingling with the sounds of the night.

"Malfoy," murmured Blaise finally as he pulled himself up. He winced a little, already feeling some soreness from their bout, but it was a pleasant feeling all the same. The other boy glanced at him through ruffled blonde bangs. Draco probably didn't realize just how achingly beautiful he was just after lovemaking.

"Can I call you Draco?"

The gray eyes blinked once, twice, then turned away.

"Why?" he asked quietly. There was a curious lilt, but it had underlying danger that put a shiver down Blaise's back.

"Shouting Malfoy makes me imagine fucking your entire family at once," replied the blue eyed boy. Draco snorted. "It's not a very pleasant picture, I assure you…So? Can I?"

"Do what you want," the blonde muttered as he set his head on an upraised knee and closed his eyes. Blaise grinned and reached over to ruffle that long hair. Any excuse to touch it, the silky strands slipping from his fingers like water…

"Then call me Blaise, okay? I mean, we're about as close as you can get, really…"

The other boy gave another snort but nodded all the same. Warmth spread through Blaise's chest. He was content to sit quietly with Draco for a while after that until both boys finally went back to their common room.

In the wake of his beating Monday, everything seemed to be going well. That is, until Friday. That's when everything went to hell.

It was twilight. Though he should have gone on to bed after he finished his homework, Harry was outside in the darkness near the lake. He was nearly a permanent fixture there as it was almost a pleasant enough area to offset Tom's babbling. Almost.

'And that, my dear Harry, is why green cannot possible counter balance orange in home decorating,' finished Tom cheerfully from his corner. Harry was ignoring him, of course. The ghost had been prattling on and on about decorating Snape Manor for two hours now and it had turned into a background rumble.

Harry wasn't listening and he wasn't talking. Harry was simply…being. He was basking in the knowledge that he was still alive and still mostly whole, and for one of the first times in his entire life, mostly content. It was a strange feeling for him, not all good but not all bad.

'You still wish I killed you.'

"Not as often," replied the boy. "Not as hard."

'But it's still there…lingering…longing…'

"It's not as bad," Harry whispered back. "I'm better now. People love me and will protect me."

'Are you so sure?'

Tom sounded so smug, so certain. Harry shoved his hands into his hair and shut his eyes tightly. He could see those shining red eyes so clearly in his mind, so vividly laughing at him. The weak little boy with a phantom in his mind. It wasn't even all of Tom Riddle, and he still held such power…

The sound of an owl's cry broke Harry from the clutches of his mind. He looked up and caught sight of a huge, beautiful barn owl swooping towards him. Throwing out his arm, he watched the owl circle him before landing, it's claws digging through his robes to clutch his arm painfully. He was quick to untie the box from it's leg. Without hesitating, the owl flew off again. Harry looked the box over. It was simply wrapped, brown paper and coarse string.

'I'm curious! Open it! Open it!' He sounded vaguely like Dudley at Christmas. 'Open the booooox! It looks so interesting and mysterious…Potter, stop sitting there and open it already!'

Yes. Definitely like Dudley at Christmas. Harry could have chuckled. Instead, he carefully untied the string and unwrapped the package. The box was about as long as his forearm and made of beautiful, dark cherry wood. The entire thing was engraved with glorious designs of dragons and winding vines. In the center, there was a name he'd never seen before: De l'Oncre.

'Fancy gift for Harry,' sang Tom and Harry had to wonder if the phantom had gone insane after all. 'Pretty pretty, someone likes you!'

"Shut up," Harry muttered. He looked at the black latch on the front of the box before opening it and lifting the lid. His mother's face stared back at him. It was sudden enough to take his breath and make his body freeze. Slowly, ever so carefully, Harry reached for the picture and pulled it out. It was a still shot, a muggle photo.

Tom was silent as they went through the box's contents. More photos, of Lily and James Potter, of the Marauders, of people that seemed to be families of the five… There was even one of Lily with her arm thrown around Severus Snape's neck. Lilly was grinning but Severus had a surprised and somewhat annoyed look on his face. Harry wondered when it had been that Severus had received his hook nose, for it was missing from that photo and the two looked about his age, if only a little younger. There were a few baby pictures, all of a little red haired girl in the arms of a smiling man and woman that he assumed to be her parents. Most of the shots were still, but a few moved to wave.

Harry set the pictures aside and pulled out an old piece of parchment. It was a letter, he found, and his eyes scanned over it. It was addressed to his mother from her father.

'My dearest Tiger Lily,

How have you been? I've returned to London finally and am happy to report that the talks with the Malfoys have gone well. Your insight, as always, has proved very important to the deal, so I thank you in advanced.

Christmas is coming soon. If you like, you could come visit me. It would make for a splendid holiday away from those boring merchants! That is, if your mother agrees. No more running off without telling her! You know how she blames me…

How is that Potter boy treating you? Has he drawn his courage to court you yet, or is he still denying his attraction? Don't fret if he is. Boys his age have hard times with commitment. I take that from my own childhood. If he takes too long, simply give him a good kick in the hindquarters and see how far it gets you.

Nichole sent me your grades and I must say that I'm impressed! If you don't get Head Girl next year, I'd be very surprised. I'm happy that magic agrees with you so well.

Well, I must be getting back to things. Emily has just arrived and you know how talks with her go. Perhaps I shall survive this negotiation with a better deal than the last. Sometimes, I think I'm too kind to that pirate.

Sincerely,
Dad'

Harry reread the letter a few times before setting it with the photos. There were other letters, mostly between Lily and her father. Harry smiled at the genuine affection between the two, though they were separated. Another letter was from Lily's mother to her father, dated when his mother must have still been very small, and it was written with a cold sort of indifference..

'Auguste,

I'm writing to inform you of my impending marriage. He is a good man who loves Lily very much and will take care of us instead of his business. I don't want you to interfere with this, Auguste. I know you can and plead that you leave us to our own.

Marriage or not, Lily is at an age where she needs stability. Being thrown from house to house between the two of us every three months isn't the answer. I want her to live with me permanently. It's the best thing for Lily and you know it. I am not asking you to give her up. If she wishes to visit you, I'll allow it.

Richard and I have decided to settle in London. What you decide is your own business but do not disturb us.

Nichole'

Harry dropped this one rather quickly and went through the rest. None of them were as note worthy. The parchment he pulled out next was newer and looked official. It turned out to be his mother's birth certificate. Another was the marriage certificate for Auguste and Nichole de l'Oncre. After that was their divorce papers. Other papers were deeds to properties all over England and France, as well as a few in farther countries. They were all under Auguste's name. He scanned through these quickly before going on.

There was a small necklace in the bottom of the box. It was a simple green stone wrapped in silver on a chain of the same. Harry ran his fingers over the smooth stone. It felt cold under his fingers, but radiated an inner heat. Harry set it down and reached for the last two pieces of parchment. One was a record of inheritance that named his mother, and her subsequent children, Heir to August de l'Oncre fortune. The other was a blood stained letter.

'Lily,

I have very little time left and I pray that you get this letter. The enemy has lain siege on the castle. I am the last one left. They have killed the rest as they tried to flee.

Find the Maidens, daughter! If you don't, the Curse of Salazar will follow your children after you! I could not find them and now my own death is looming. I only hope for more for my only daughter.

The book is in Hogwarts. If Dumbledore doesn't have it himself, you'll find it in the library. You must break the cycle, daughter! Slytherin has already done enough damage to the Gryffindor line! You are the last of our family, Lily. We have suffered far worse than the Potters, but our lines come from the same. Your children will be pure, Lily, and so very powerful. Train them well!

Remember that I love you

Dad'

His last words to his only daughter. Harry read them and reread them. By the third time, he was crying. This was his grandfather, a man he only though through those letters and already loved.

Tom, blessedly, stayed silent.

As Harry went back to the Common Room, he walked as if in a daze. The box was held snugly under his arm, safe and protected. Harry felt raw. His face was rubbed red from wiping away tears. His eyes were tired from crying them. His body was sluggish from the exhausting emotions. His mind was open to everything and everyone and he had not the strength to block it.

A bad taste came to his mouth. He paused and hugged the precious box closer to him. After he'd stopped crying, he'd muttered a few spells over it to protect both the box and it's contents. They were precious, a rare look into his family. They were a comfort.

Harry stared around at the empty corridor. His tired body was going on alert for a danger he couldn't see. He could feel his heart and breath quicken. Inside, Tom was whispering warnings. Swallowing thickly, he walked faster.

Hands grabbed at his robes and pulled in into a darker hallway. He cried out and fought, but another pair helped the other to subdue him. He was pinned to the wall with his hands over his head and two large bodies pressed to his.

"Hello Potter," purred one. Harry's eyes flew wide in the darkness. 'Not again!' he thought desperately.

"You've been avoiding us, Potter," murmured the other wickedly. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Harry could see their outlines and a third farther back. He bit back a pained groan.

"I told you to stay away from him," hissed the last. "But you just couldn't listen, could you? Maybe we should break something this time."

His world exploded with pain. Harry didn't know how long they beat him, nor how badly. He felt his blood running and his mind was fuzzy. Even time was lost to him. When they left him, he struggled to get to his feet. He knew he wouldn't be able to get far in his state but tried anyway.

Step after step, one foot in front of the other, a hand to guide his way along the walls and the other clutching the precious box to his chest. There was blood on his face and the red substance dripped onto the floor after him. He knew he had to get somewhere safe to tend to himself with security. Then his knees buckled and he fell, but didn't hit the floor. At first, he thought he had gone unconscious but the air whipped through his hair as he went down, down, down.

And then he stopped. It wasn't a bad landing. There was softness under him and it yielded to his weight enough to cushion him. The air smelled sweet and clean and there was light from everywhere and no where. Had he finally died? He turned his head and stared out though blood stained vision. He was laying in a huge field of green grass and flowers. There were a few trees and a few large rocks, but nothing else. Everything looked peaceful and good.

"Human…"

Harry looked the other way and locked eyes with large, glowing amber eyes. They were framed in blue and had the longest lashes he had ever seen. Light glinted off them and the round pupils were huge for a moment before retracting to near pinpricks. That was the last thing he knew before passing out.

In the depths of Hogwarts, an old power stirred into consciousness. It was felt by all, though differently by each, as its presence fell over the castle like a blanket. For those dreaming, it cast shadow over their monsters or took hope from their knights. Those awake had shivers run down their spines as the power loomed over them.

For Harry, it was like the embrace of a comforting parent. He awoke to warmth surrounding him and the heavy, huge heartbeat so much slower than his own. His cheek was pressed against warm, slick skin, not wet as much as smooth. Dark lashes slowly lifted as sleepy eyes took in the face before him.

It was reptilian and larger than his own, while being long and utterly graceful. It had a hook like beak, dull and rough like some birds'. Gleaming amber eyes watched him with unknown intelligence. There was a dark blue, jewel like area right between those orbs that caught the unnatural light easily. Long, curved horns formed behind the eyes and below them were its long, web like ears. It had the greatest royal air to it as it gazed at him, like a king to his subject.

"Dragon," whispered the boy. Amusement sparkled in the tawny eyes.

"Human," it responded. Its sexless voice rumbled through its chest and into Harry's body, rolling over it like waves of the sea. Harry was laying in the curve of the dragon's form, just in front of it's huge back legs with his head in a slight dip of muscle. Its tail was warped loosely around him. Harry felt as if he'd never move again. He was comfortable in the warmth that soothed his aching body. It felt as if there were an internal fire burning within its belly.

"You're quite injured," said the dragon.

"Fell…down the stairs," replied Harry quietly. He knew the dragon didn't believe him but clung to that lie anyway. The dragon gave a little sigh, its sweet smelling breath puffing against Harry's face.

"Rest, child," rumbled the dragon softly. "I will tend to you."

"Who are you?"

The dragon seemed to smile as Harry's heavy eyelids fell shut.

"You may call me Larundo Adonis."

When the boy had fallen back into fitful sleep, Larundo lifted its great head and turned towards the center of the field. Its eyes flickered with recognition and slight anger at the sight of the man before him. The old wizard's blue eyes met its and refused to back down. Spelled wind fluttered through his long, white hair.

"You've awakened," murmured the wizard as he drew close. The dragon didn't move from the boy it so carefully sheltered.

"I haven't been asleep for almost a year now," replied Larundo in a high tone, nearly mocking. "A soul has called to me."

The old wizard reached down and brushed black bangs from a bruised and battered face. There were still splotches of blood upon the pale skin, but most of it had been wiped clean. He sighed ever so softly.

"I trust you to stay in the Sanctuary," murmured the wizard. The dragon regarded him indifferently. The wizard was nothing but a fly to him, magic be damned.

"The soul will decide that, Dumbledore," Larundo replied in cold tones. It looked down when the boy gave a slight whimper. Shifting its tail, it gently brushed the boy's unmarred cheek. He quieted quickly and Larundo turned back to the wizard.

"You know my duty," it said. Dumbledore nodded slightly and pulled out his wand. The dragon watched him closely as he cast a few healing spells. They were nothing complicated, as the boy's magic saturated body couldn't take much, but enough to sooth most of his hurts.

Dumbledore paused and knelt to look at the cheery box laying near Larundo's foot. He passed his fingers over the engraved name before straightening.

"I had hoped he would be older by the time this happened," he murmured softly, "Salazar's curse is rounding again."

"Perhaps," the Dragon mused. "This is the last heir to Gryffindor and within him is the heir to Slytherin. If he does not break the curse, all four heirs will perish. Even the little one."

Dumbledore looked over Larundo's face, eyes trailing to the amused yellow-brown eyes.

"Are you pleased?" he asked. The amber eyes flickered.

"My sentence is almost complete either way," it replied. "Pleased would be a word to describe my feelings. It has been a century, after all."

"Has it already…"

A silence drifted over them for a time. Dumbledore seemed pleased enough to gaze down at the child the dragon held so protectively. The golden eyed beast regarded him with inner sadness.

"I am not pleased."

The wizard searched Larundo's seemingly unemotional face.

"You worry for the little one?" he wondered quietly. The dragon turned away.

"Perhaps death would be a great gift for her…but I do not wish to be the one who sees it."

The old man almost smiled. "You've grown soft in your old age."

"I am still young for my kind."

With a soft chuckle, Dumbledore gave one last look to Harry and disappeared from the field. Larundo sighed a little and made itself comfortable, laying its head down next to the boy's. It would watch over the child as he slept. Waiting for his death would not take long, compared to his century-long incarceration.

'They'll pay…Those stupid children will pay for harming my vessel…'

'Maybe' he murmured in response. His body hurt with remembered pains from the physical. The other had left him be for the most part, raging on his own around the dreamscape. He was too caught up in his rage to pay attention to the child.

'I'll rip their bones from their bodies while they live…I'll pluck their eyes and pour acid inside until their brains have turned into something indiscernible…'

It was almost amusing to listen to the other. He watched him pace and throw his hands about, those crimson eyes flashing every few seconds as a new hate wedged itself with the others.

'Their meaningless lives will end slowly and in as much pain as I can inflict…I shall let them live over and over, let them feel the same pains for an eternity until they are no long themselves…and then I will give them the sweet embrace of death…'

He was so tired of the other's ranting. So tired of pain. So tired of everything. Then the other stopped and looked at him. Those ruby orbs flickered with something but he couldn't figure out what it was. And then the other was upon him, claiming his lips, running hands over his body, careful of the hurts that plagued him. Oh so careful, as if he had never hurt him ever before. As if they were innocent and loving. As if the dream world wasn't tainted by their pasts and their hates and their needs.

The other pulled away and stared down at him. Long fingered hands gently stroked his cheeks. He was bend over him, knees on either side of his hips and face barely an inch from his own. He found himself falling into those red pools, the exact color of blood, falling down, down, down, until he didn't know what up was. Until it was gone in his mind why he shouldn't be drowning. Those perfect lips pulled back into a smile.

'You're falling.'

'Yes.'

'Soon, I will rise up and do such terrible things that you will be forced to hide in this place.'

'Yes.'

'You're already mine. Soon, the whole world will understand that.'

'Yes.'

The other kissed him again, slow and graceful. There was no rush in the dreamscape. No fervent need this time.

'Not today,' he whispered. The other smiled.

'No, not today.'

He opened his eyes. He was aware now, mind rested and healed. His body didn't feel as horrible anymore, though he knew that his eye was quite black and a little swollen. Slowly, Harry sat up and looked over the body surrounding him. The dragon was a beautiful creature. Most of its body was covered in small, blue scales with a few green ones scattered through. Along the underside of its neck and belly were large, silvery blocks of thick skin hard enough to be armor. Arching from just behind its head to the base of its neck was a long, purplish finlike membrane.

Amber eyes watched him curiously.

"Morning," he said absently to it. The dragon lifted its head.

"It's afternoon," said Larundo with amusement. The boy blinked at him.

"That late? Man…My teachers are gonna be mad…"

"Doubtful," soothed the dragon. It lifted its tail to brush Harry's cheek. "They know you're here."

"Where is here, anyway?"

"It's called the Sanctuary." Slowly, gracefully, the dragon got up. Its head rose to twice Harry's height and its wings stretched twice as wide as its own body. Folding its wings again, Larundo turned its amber gaze to the boy. "This is my home. You got here when you felt the need for a safe place."

"Oh," replied the boy. He got up and stretched sore muscles, wincing at various hurts that hadn't healed. He was a little surprised at how much he'd healed, but tried not to think about it.

"That door, in the wall," said Larundo suddenly, drawing Harry's attention. "It'll take you back to Hogwarts."

It started to walk away, its tail waving behind it.

"Wait!"

The great head shifted to look over its shoulder.

"Can I come back here sometime?" asked Harry softly. The dragon was quiet for a moment before it nodded. The boy smiled and picked up his box before leaving the sanctuary. Larundo watched him until he was gone.

There was no one in the dorm when Harry got there. The last class was still in session so he got the bathroom to himself and enjoyed a long, hot shower. The raining water soothed his various bruises and sore muscles, massaging until he thought he'd fall asleep. Getting out finally, after deciding that the hot water would never run out, Harry toweled himself off and got dressed. He debated just going to bed, as he was still tired, but was hungry enough to dismiss that thought.

Just as he had finished dressing in clean robes, the door to the dorm opened. Harry looked up and caught sight of a surprised expression. Blue eyes were comically wide, edged in violet from sleeplessness. Smooth, pink lips were parted in surprise. Freckled cheeks were pale. One had was still at the doorknob.

"Harry?"

"Hey, Ron," Harry replied, smiling a little. He saw the other's gaze flicker to his eye before the boy ran to him and threw his arms around his body. Harry gave a cry of surprise but relaxed when Ron didn't remove himself.

"Damn it, Harry! Where were you? No one could find you and MaGonagall wouldn't say anything and I…I…" Ron pulled back and glared at him. Harry simply watched him. Finally, the redhead's expression softened. He let the other boy go and reached up to brush black bangs from his eyes. "I was worried…"

Harry felt color blossom on his cheeks. An answering blush appeared on Ron's face. The redhead backed off and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Your eye looks darker today," muttered Ron sheepishly with his eyes averted. "It's not bad, of course. I mean, you still look great and- not that I look at you that way or anything- of course, not to say that NO ONE does, but…I…um…I'm shutting up now."

Harry only blinked. Then his lips quirked and he started laughing. Ron stared at him. That sound was something he'd heard so little of… He slowly smiled. It was worth his embarrassment, just to see the way Harry's face lit up when he laughed. Ron's chest grew tight suddenly. His mouth went dry. The black haired boy noticed a change go over his friend's face. He looked over the freckled face with confusion at the way Ron was staring at him.

"Ron?"

Those bright blue eyes shimmered with emotion. Harry almost felt frightened of what the redhead might say.

"Harry, I…"

And at that exact moment, the door opened. Dean, Seamus, and Neville came through talking and laughing with each other. The three paused when they spotted the others and fell quiet.

"Oh, hey Harry!" Neville said first, nervously. Harry smiled at him. "You didn't come back last night…"

"I was…detained," replied Harry in a quiet tone.

"Ooo, does Harry have a girlfriend?" Seamus cooed, grinning. Dean picked it up immediately and dashed over to throw an arm around the green eyed boy's shoulders. Only Ron noticed the tensing of Harry's body.

"Who's the lucky girl?" Dean prodded teasingly.

"Or boy?" wondered Seamus innocently. Neville went completely red.

"Boy?" he choked with wide eyes. At his expression, the other boys started laughing.

They were in an actual bed this time. One of the random guest rooms around the castle that they'd stumbled into. Draco was still draped over Blaise's body, his head tucked under his chin. The black haired boy smiled contentedly as he ran his fingers through the blonde's long hair. These moments were ones he loved best. The quiet, loving silence as they drank each other's presences.

"Ever thought of growing your hair out?" Draco asked distractedly. Blaise blinked and reached up to feel his messy locks.

"Do you want me to?" he replied. The blonde made a non-committal noise into his throat. Blaise smiled a little. "Well, it would make mother happy… She loves having something to complain about…"

Draco snorted. They got up and dressed. It was time for dinner, after all. Making jokes and laughing with one another, Draco and Blaise made their way to the Great Hall. It was just as they were sitting down to eat that Blaise noticed Draco's gaze had shifted. He followed it, noting that Harry Potter and his friends were at their table. He turned back to Draco and saw something that made his blood run cold.

Longing? For…

Blaise heard Draco's words from earlier clearly. And then suddenly, he realized something very important. His appetite disappeared. Giving a quick excuse to Draco, Blaise quickly left the Hall and found a corridor void of other people. His blue eyes had a wild look to them as he sought out a tall mirror on the wall. The face looking back at him wasn't his own.

"No," snarled Blaise as he reached out to touch the reflection. The boy in the mirror smirked at him and green eyes glittered. "No, it's not fucking true."

The boy's smirk didn't disappear.

"Shut up," he growled to him. Those mocking eyes stared back into his without fear. "I'm not a… not a…"

The boy leaned close and whispered a word he didn't want to face.

'Replacement.'

"No!" He slammed his fist against the glass as his head came to rest upon it. "No, please…"

The boy in the mirror laughed.

"I hate you," he hissed back. "I'm not you."

'That's the problem, isn't it?'

He shut his eyes tightly. "I'm the one he wants, not you! NOT YOU!"

'You lie so badly…'

"Please, no…"

'Face it,' the boy purred, 'He only wants you…because you look so much like me…Only, now I've changed…and he wants you to change, too…to keep the illusion real…'

A sob welled up in his throat…because he knew it was true.

Blaise turned his back on the mirror and dropped his fists to his sides. His eyes snapped open with sudden resolve, blue orbs swirling with anger.

"You can't have him," he snarled to the boy in the mirror. "I won't let you."