The winter term began and Hogwarts was even emptier than before. Harry looked out across his classroom with a sinking feeling. The usual faces were there: Malcolm Treeloft, sullen and silent without his partner Rupert Fenwick; Ravenclaw Serenity Hudson and her best friend Felicia Rosencrantz sitting proudly in the front of the class with the husky Hufflepuff Jane Grittney sitting behind them. Many more faces but also many more empty seats.

Not one to be shy, Rosencrantz raised her hand. Harry acknowledged her and she stood up, her braids jostling. "Professor Potter, I would just like to say that I think it's rotten what the Ministry is doing and just plain cowardly. These parents who are keeping their kids away are idiots and someone should tell them so." She sat with the air of finality, seeming to win her argument.

Harry gave her a kind smile. "I appreciate your show of confidence, Miss Rosencrantz. But I feel I should tell you that in all likelihood, I won't be continuing as your teacher."

"What?" said Hudson. "You're not quitting are you?"

"No. I shouldn't like to go, but I'm afraid the Board of Governors will insist that I and Professor Malfoy leave."

"But that's not fair! Jane, can't your dad do anything? He works in the Ministry."

"He works in Transportation," she said miserably. "Apparations and Floo Network. Not much pull with the Board."

"It's the parents to blame," said Malcolm Treeloft harshly. "If they'd just calm down none of this would have happened."

"Have you talked to Rupert, Malcolm?" asked Hudson in a kindly tone. "Is there any way-?"

"No! It's over."

Harry held up his hands. "Please. Wait. We can't go into this. I'm sorry I brought it up. It's just that I wanted to say before I lost my chance that I really enjoyed teaching you. Now. Enough of this. Let's learn some Defense."

But clearly the student's minds were not on the class and neither was Harry's. Harry gave up and dismissed them early. He was glad to see Hudson and Rosencrantz make a bee-line for Treeloft. The others soon gathered around them and they looked as if they were conspiring at something. When Harry approached, they looked back at him and shuffled away out the door.

Harry collapsed into a chair and glanced out the window. He knew they meant well, but what could they really do? He suddenly felt very sad. Everything had gone so well at the beginning. He was so happy to have Draco in his life and Hogwarts on top of it. But with typical Harry Potter luck, all had gone downhill quickly. At least he had a few months of happiness. And he still had Draco. He'd rather have Draco, if it came down to it.

He had a free hour and he sought out Draco in his dungeons. He found him bent over a potion he was brewing. Draco looked up.

Harry raised his hand in greeting and said nothing as he slid onto a stool. "What's brewing?"

"De-mossing Elixer for Filch. Wants to clean off the castle walls."

"Have your class yet?"

"Yes. Very depressing."

"Same here. I let them off early."

"So did I."

Draco raised his wand. "You know, I almost think I was happier as a Death Eater."

Harry shook his head.

"Well, I wasn't as depressed." He murmured an incantation over the potion and flicked his wand when several things happened at once. The potion exploded hot liquid in a fan across the room, and Draco was thrown back against the dungeon wall. Harry's glasses probably saved his eyesight, but he was burned from the potion and when he looked over at Draco he wasn't moving. "Draco!" He sped to his side, forgetting the burns on his skin. Draco, having been bent over the cauldron was scalded from head to foot but he had been knocked unconscious when he hit the wall.

Harry grabbed both wands and used the levitating charm to lift Draco and moved with him quickly to the hospital wing.

Madam Pomfrey hustled forward and took charge of Malfoy. Her wand instantly took the horrid lesions from his face and body. Then she did the same for Harry and he felt a little better. "Why is Mr. Malfoy unconscious?"

"He hit a stone wall."

She nodded and started her ministrations. While she worked she asked over her shoulder, "What was Mr. Malfoy working on?"

"Just a simple de-mossing elixir. He must have done it a hundred times, and though I don't know much about it, I don't remember it being dangerous in any way."

"Was he distracted?"

"A little. We've both been a bit distracted."

Pomfrey nodded. She certainly knew the situation. There couldn't be anyone in Hogwarts or much of the Wizarding world who didn't know. "Yet, this seems a bit extreme even for a slight distraction."

"That's what I thought." What else could it be? Harry had a thought and took out his pocket watch. He sucked in a breath to see the needle pointing again to "Mortal Peril." But Draco was fine or soon would be. Why "Mortal Peril"?

Harry pulled Draco's wand from the pocket he had stuffed it in and examined it. Something was amiss. Harry waved his wand over Draco's and saw a peculiar and telltale wave of power hover over it.

"Will he be all right?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. He will have a whale of a headache, but he will recover in a few moments."

"I've got to see the Headmaster." He left quickly. He and Draco hadn't really talked to Dumbledore since the last threat to Draco's life. They weren't exactly on speaking terms. But he at least had to talk to him about this other attack on Draco.

Outside the Headmaster's office Harry stopped short. The walrus-mustached wizard from the Board of Governors was just coming out of the office and he stopped when he caught sight of Harry.

"What are you doing here?" asked Harry in a surly tone. "Scraping up more evidence against us?"

"Mr. Potter, your attitude toward the board is certainly not helping your case."

"Meaning that you think I don't believe it's already a foregone conclusion?"

The man scowled and made a rumbling noise back in his throat. "Not only do I question your practices but I think you are far too young to teach in this institution as evidenced by your appalling behaviour."

"My 'practices'? You mean my love? You mean love is now suspect? True, it is a powerful weapon. It did, in the end, defeat Voldemort. But I can't think that it might be included as Dark Magic now."

"That is not what I said and not what I meant." He opened his mouth to say more but perhaps thought better of it. "Good day, Mr. Potter."

"That's Professor Potter!" he called after his retreating back. "At least for a few more weeks," he added quietly. Harry watched him go, itching to pull his wand. He turned instead to the griffin stair, climbed it, and knocked on the office door.

The Headmaster welcomed him in, treating him no differently than he had before. Harry felt a little guilty about shunning him, but after all, it was Dumbledore's stupid rules that angered him when the old wizard had seemed so open about it before. Wasn't it he who said "Live and let live"?

"Why was that man here?"

"He is a governor of the board. He may come to Hogwarts at any time he pleases."

Harry mulled this. "And wander anywhere, I suppose." Dumbledore said nothing. Harry straightened and simply stated, "Draco's been attacked again."

Dumbledore shot to his feet. "What?"

"He's in the hospital wing now, but he'll be fine. Someone's tampered with his wand." He gave it to Dumbledore who examined it. "I checked it. It's been hexed."

"How could that have happened?"

"I don't know. What was that man doing here?"

"Now Harry. Accusing a governor of the board will not endear you to the rest of them, I assure you."

"Yes, but the only time his wand was out of his sight was at the Ministry." He considered. The governors certainly had a bone to pick. Maybe they objected to him and Draco so much they were sending threats and booby-trapped packages. And hexing Draco's wand. "Everyone saw us enter. Everyone knows Draco had to surrender his wand. It's a good thing I didn't. I want the Aurors to ask questions. Even of the governors."

"Yes, Harry. It will be done."

"I'll take that back, then, and fix it." He put his hand out for it and Dumbledore laid it silently in Harry's hand.

Harry turned to go but Dumbledore called out. "Harry, you never told me what happened at the Ministry."

Harry stopped at the door but didn't turn. "I thought you would have heard."

"But I would like to hear it from you."

He turned then. "Why? Why so interested now? You were so keen to keep Draco and me all cloistered, hiding who we are. Weren't you the one who told us that wizards and witches should be themselves, unless they became a threat to others, and the only threat to others would be if they were Dark witches or wizards? Or didn't you mean that?"

"Yes, I meant it. And you and Draco are particularly important to me. But the school is in trouble, Harry. If any more leave, we may have to close the doors for good."

Harry stared at his feet. "I wouldn't want that to happen. But at the same time, what kind of an education will they be getting if we lie to them?"

Dumbledore smiled ruefully. "Harry, please trust me. It will all come out all right. Have patience."

"I don't have patience. And I don't have any hope. But at least I have Draco." He turned on his heel and left, curling his fingers around Draco's hexed wand. With his other hand he took out the watch. The needle still pointed to "Mortal Peril." He had to fix this wand.

He went to his classroom and put the wand on the floor in the center of the room. He made several incantations over it and then blasted it with his own wand. A fiery red glow encompassed Draco's wand as it lifted into the air, rotated several times, and slowly lowered to the floor, vibrating violently before it finally stilled. The light dissipated and Harry went to retrieve it. He gave it an experimental flick and it blew a chair across the room. He nodded, tucked it in his pocket, and hurried up to the hospital wing.

When he entered the infirmary, Draco was already sitting up in bed, drinking something he clearly did not like the taste of. His face was only lightly pink in places he was scalded, but Pomfrey assured him even that would fade in time.

"You all right, mate?" asked Harry, sitting in a chair beside his bed.

"Except for this foul concoction Madam Pomfrey would have me drink. I think she's trying to poison me."

"I heard that, Mr. Malfoy," came her voice from her back office.

"I think she uses hearing enhancement charms," he whispered to Harry. Harry held out Draco's wand to him. "What's that?"

"Your wand. Someone hexed it."

"Bloody sodding hell!"

"I took off the hex, though. It was a nasty one and very clever. When was the last time you used your wand before this?"

Draco turned the wooden wand in his hands. Harry knew his wand meant a lot to him. His original wand was destroyed by the Ministry after his capture and trial and he had been forbidden from obtaining another. That is, until Harry found him and Dumbledore gave him a job at Hogwarts. This new wand had been nothing like his old one. Draco had intimated that Ollivander told him he had gone through too many changes to possess a wand like the one he had before. He was a different wizard now, and Harry had to agree. He wasn't anything like the scheming, cowardly Slytherin he had been. At least, mostly.

"I don't remember. Didn't really use it all through the holidays."

"Then I suspect it was when you surrendered it at the Ministry."

"Sod it. Do you have any idea who?"

"No, but at least we know it was probably someone at the Ministry."

"Why is the Ministry so bloody concerned with me? Haven't I done my time?"

"Apparently someone thinks you haven't."

"Some homophobic bastard with his own wacko agenda, you mean."

"Well put." Harry grew thoughtful. "You know, the wizard from the Board of Governors was just here."

"Yeah? What for? Stirring up more dirt?"

"Maybe. But Dumbledore said that any of the governors can come here at any time they please."

"You think maybe…"

"I don't know."

Draco huffed. "So what am I supposed to do?"

"Stay away from the Ministry, for one. And any visiting ministry officials. I suppose when we get sacked, you may not have to worry over it anymore."

"Or they'll just follow me to your flat." Draco drew on a thoughtful expression and Harry guessed immediately where it was going. "Harry…for your own safety-"

"Forget it, Draco. When we leave Hogwarts you're coming home with me. End of argument."

"But Harry-"

"Do you really want to argue with the most powerful wizard on the planet?"

"Says you." But even as Draco joked Harry could tell he seemed a little frightened of that aspect. To ease his words, Harry sat on the edge of his bed and put his arm around him.

"Not that you have anything to fear."

"Yeah. I'm glad were not enemies anymore. You were a bit frightening at the Ministry."

"Not frightening enough, though."

Draco threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood. "Madam Pomfrey said as soon as I drank that sodding potion, I could leave. Isn't that right, Madam Pomfrey?"

"Correct, Mr. Malfoy," came the voice from beyond.

Draco tucked his wand away and walked with Harry to the exit. "Have I missed my class?"

"Yes. Damn. So did I. Well, now that means we have free time."

"No it doesn't. There's Quidditch against Ravenclaw this afternoon. Hey, maybe this is an opportunity to try out my broom. Sort of coach the team…one last time."

"Maybe we can ride together after the game." Harry checked the watch. "This still says you're in Mortal Peril. Now what is it? I wish this thing were a little more specific."

"I wish I'd never given it to you. I didn't honestly think it would work."

Harry grasped it, not realizing he held it over his heart. "Look, I love this. It's the best gift anyone ever gave me, if only for the inscription."

"Then keep that part and throw the rest away. Honestly, Potter. You're making me crazy with your worrying."

"Can't help it." They went to Harry's room to grab their cloaks and brooms and went out to the Quidditch pitch.

At the pitch, Draco headed toward Slytherin and Harry toward Gryffindor until they both stopped. Here was a dilemma. Draco was head of house for Slytherin but Harry was only a former Gryffindor. "You go sit with the Gryffindors," said Draco first. "It's okay."

But Harry suddenly felt differently. "No, actually, I think I'll sit with you."

"Harry, that's smack in the middle of Slytherin territory. I don't think you'd be comfortable. And besides, parents are here."

That's an even better reason, he almost said aloud, but refrained. "Look, you're head of house. I want to support you. Besides, don't you think after vanquishing Voldemort I can hold my own with a pack of kid Slytherins?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

Harry felt strange climbing into the green and silver box, and all the Slytherins made him feel equally strange when they glared at him and his vivid Gryffindor scarf. He glared back at all of them and made a show of tossing the long end of his scarf over his shoulder and settled next to Draco.

The stands were noticeably empty, but Harry did see several sets of parents sprinkled amongst the students, even in the Slytherin box. When he swept his gaze over them, they all seemed to be just turning away from him. Yes, he looks normal enough, he ran in his head. How in the world can he be one of those?

Now he knew a little what Hermione felt being called a Mudblood. He turned to Draco. Oh yes. Draco called her that. How easy it was to forget…and forgive. But that was a thought: Hermione. She and Ron worked at the Ministry. Maybe they could help. Surely they had pull as Harry Potter's old friends and colleagues.

Madam Hooch tossed up the Quaffle and the game began. Draco shouted at his team as if he was a student again, and Harry watched him, enthralled. The other Slytherins quickly forgot Harry was there, and huddled in with Draco, listening to his stories and strategy with interest. He really was in his element. And despite his posturing, Harry could tell that he was genuinely fond of his students. They were his kind of people after all. It must be exhausting for him to be so nice with Harry all the time.

He glanced at the parents in the Slytherin box. Surely they could see how beloved, how harmless Draco was.

The Slytherins were ahead at first and Draco shot Harry warm, unguarded smiles, but Ravenclaw was catching up as the afternoon wore on, and Draco grabbed his broom. "I think I'll do some of that coaching after all."

Harry looked at his watch. The needle seemed to be permanently fixed on "Mortal Peril". "Maybe you shouldn't go. It's been a long time since you've been on a broom."

"Come on, Harry. Everyone knows you never forget how to ride a broom."

Harry knew better than to naysay him and Draco pushed his way through the crowd and down the stands. Harry sat back and tried to stay calm. Soon Draco zoomed by the stands, giving Harry a wave. The Slytherins, of course, thought it was for them, and they cheered. Harry watched him zoom up to the Quidditch captain and they conferred for a bit, stopping only to slip out of the way of a screaming bludger.

Harry kept looking at the watch. He couldn't help it. Draco was right. He should just put the thing away. Now he, too, wished Draco had never gotten it for him.

Draco moved away from the captain and soared higher. For a man who hadn't been on a broom in some three years, he certainly didn't look it. He was as eloquent as he always was. Was there nothing Malfoy couldn't do and not look good at? It was the same on the dance floor. Draco looked perfectly adept at it. Anything that involved any amount of grace, Draco was superior. He remembered their first wizard's duel in their second year. Draco had stridden up to Harry as if he had been doing so all his life. He flicked his wand away as smoothly as any duelist with rapiers, and even his delivery of hexes-though he cheated by going out of turn-were graceful movements like a dancer weaving across a floor. Even in lovemaking there were no wasted movements for him. He was simply lovely to behold, and Harry was glad he wasn't pining under his invisibility cloak any more, wondering what it would be like to touch, to kiss, to love the Slytherin. Now he knew what it was like. And it was heaven.

In his daydreams Harry lost track of the game and of Draco. He scoured the pitch. Had he landed already? He raised his head and shielded his eyes as he looked higher. Was that Draco way up there? He'd kill him if Draco didn't kill himself first. But as Harry watched Draco climb, he had a sense that something was wrong. Why was Draco flying that high? Surely he couldn't even really see the game anymore. Instincts prickling, Harry stood up in the stands, tucked his broom under him, and zoomed away, much to the consternation of those sitting next to him.

He sped into the sky, barely registering his exhilaration at the flight. Draco was moving further away. He was flying much too high, higher than was standard for even long distance flights. He poured on the speed, urging the Firebolt with soft words as if coaxing a horse. Draco was finally coming into better view and Harry's heart hammered. He could tell Draco was struggling with the broom. Something was definitely wrong.

"Draco!" he yelled, but there was too much wind for him to hear.

Harry leaned forward so far he was flat against the broom handle. He saw Draco with his wand trying to bring the broom to heel, but it wasn't working. Harry got closer and Draco finally saw him. His eyes were wide in panic but when he saw Harry they relaxed somewhat. He gestured Harry closer, but his broom made an evasive maneuver. Harry took out his wand but the broom took Draco farther again, and he was afraid to hit Draco if he tried to stop the broom. There was only one solution and Draco would have to have the nerve and the trust to do it, and Harry, panicked himself, didn't think Draco possessed enough of either.

Harry contrived to position himself under Draco and motioned for him to come.

Draco instantly knew what Harry wanted and he stiffened. And yet the broom climbed higher. It was already wickedly cold up there in the icy wind, but if Draco climbed much higher the oxygen would give out.

Harry tracked the wayward broom, always staying below it. He gestured again. Draco shook his head, but he looked down, too, and suspected his predicament.

"Come on, Draco," Harry muttered. "You've got to trust me and let go."

But that took a lot of trust. Harry didn't know if he could readily do it for anyone but Dumbledore. But if Draco didn't soon, he'd have no chance at all.

Draco looked down, looked up, and his face told his whole quandary. He stared long and hard at Harry and slowly nodded his head. Harry grasped the broom handle tightly. He didn't know how his broom would react if Draco landed on it. Most likely, he'd have to catch Draco as he fell. He tightened his other hand on his wand. He murmured several incantations, going over them several times in case one didn't work and he'd have to switch to the next.

Draco took a deep breath and then lifted both hands from the broom handle. A gust of wind must have lifted him. At first he rose off the broom a little higher, the wind catching his flapping cloak, but it was only for a second before his body turned and plummeted downward. Harry dived. Draco slid past him and he poured on the speed now, thinking of nothing else but to snatch Draco out of the jaws of death, but it was amazing how fast a body fell. "Immobulous!" he cried with his wand jabbed forward, but Draco continued to fall. "Arresto Momentum!" but still Draco fell. Harry suppressed a sob. He stuffed his wand between his teeth, bent forward, and aimed right for Draco. As if Draco were a snitch, Harry thrust his hand forward and dived for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the snow-covered Quidditch pitch closing on them, widening in his field of view. It meant they were hurtling toward the ground quickly and there was not much time. Closer. If only he could get closer! He willed the Firebolt to go faster, leaned impossibly forward, bit so hard into the wand between his teeth he heard a crack. His fingers stretched, his arm hurt from the pressure until-- There! He snatched Draco's cloak at the collar. He hauled on him with a mighty yell between his teeth clenched over his wand, but he couldn't pull him around or get the broom to cooperate with the extra weight. He pulled up on the broom with all his strength, making sure he kept a tight hold of Draco and he could tell they slowed but they were nowhere near to stopping. He hauled on the broom again and it lifted its nose a bit. Slower, but still not enough. Finally they were within the pitch and Harry did the only thing he could think of: He spiraled around the pitch, trying to slow his momentum, hoping everyone would simply get out of his way-and it was working! In ever lower spirals they went, until they were slow enough and low enough for Harry to let go. Draco fell into a snow drift and disappeared into a puff of whiteness. Harry jumped off the broom before it could stop and came down running. The stands were emptying into the field and some were running toward Harry but others toward where Malfoy fell.

Harry had no breath left but he kept running. People were digging out the snow drift until they reached Draco and he was sitting up and swearing, spitting snow. Harry laughed in relief or tried to, but he couldn't breathe and the next thing he knew, he had pitched over and hit blackness.


On to Chapter Ten
"Conspiracies"

Back to Chapter Eight
"The Board of Governors"

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