Harry was released the next day, no more worse for wear, and was even able to take his Defense class that morning.

"We're sure glad you're out of the hospital, sir," said Rosencrantz. The students gathered around him, reaching up to offer their hands to shake or to pat his back.

Harry thanked them, folded his arms, and looked out at each of their faces. Even Treeloft was among the crowd who moved in around him. "I'm glad to be back. If it weren't for Professor Malfoy's potions I wouldn't be standing amongst you at all. Let that be a lesson to you to study your potions class extra careful." They all nodded in agreement.

"But what did happen, sir?" asked Hudson, tossing her long black hair over her shoulder.

Harry sat on the edge of his desk, and the students all settled in for a good story. "Well, it was a rather complicated plot to rid Hogwarts of Professor Malfoy by getting him accused of impropriety with a student."

"Professor Malfoy doesn't seem the type," said Grittney.

"He isn't," said Harry. "None of us are. Dumbledore isn't stupid, you know. We're all checked out."

"But teachers have been dangerous in the past," offered Treeloft.

"True. The past Defense teachers have been…unusual."

"One of them was a werewolf!" said Grittney.

"Yes, but he was a really good teacher…and he's still my friend."

They ooed and awed at that.

"So anyway, a Ministry official-" and he made a point not to look at Jane Grittney as her father worked for the Ministry- "really hated the idea of a former Death Eater teaching at Hogwarts, so he had the nerve to hire a known Death Eater to come to Hogwarts to discredit the Professor."

Treeloft snorted. "What a hypocrite!"

"Exactly. Well this Death Eater happened to be a Metamorphmagis-that's when you can turn into any person you like. A very handy skill. So he hid himself here as…Miss Antonia Adams." They gasped and exploded into whispers. "And, I'm afraid to say, Cymbeline Sorenson as well." The gasping stopped and their faces grew white and frightened. "Sorry about that. I was fooled, too. But what the Ministry official didn't know-or says so, anyway-is that he had no idea that Sorenson-actually Gordon Harper-was going to try to kill me. And he did poison me. I was almost a goner."

"And Professor Malfoy saved you," said Rosencrantz with a worshipful gleam in her eye.

"Yup. I guess that makes us even." He surveyed their faces and felt a little uncomfortable at the direction things were going. "I guess that's enough story time." They groaned in disappointment. "Let's get to Defense Against the Dark Arts, shall we?"

They tried some new blocks as well as some new hexes before class was over. The students trailed out, congratulating Harry again on his recovery. All except Treeloft, who hung at the door as the others left. He made certain they were gone and closed the door. Harry stayed as he was, merely watching the boy approach.

"You were poisoned when you sent me off to the Ministry, weren't you?"

"Yes, but I didn't know it at the time. How was your trip to the Ministry?"

He shrugged. "It was all right. I sort of feel sorry for Muggles now."

Harry smiled. "Oh? Why is that?"

"Because. They can't do anything, can they? I mean everything has to be done by hand or they have to make something that will do it for them."

"And yet they manage to build bridges and cathedrals and create beautiful works of art. All on their own."

"Yeah. I guess."

"So it was a good trip?"

He shrugged.

"Would you go back?"

He shrugged again.

Harry chuckled. For a stubborn fifteen-year-old, that was high praise indeed.

Treeloft didn't move. He twisted the strap of his book bag in his hand.

"Is there…something else, Malcolm?"

Treeloft looked behind him to check the door. "Well…I just…it's just that I see you…and Professor Malfoy…and it gives me…hope."

"Hope? For what?"

Treeloft's face was red. It seemed that every word was an effort. "You know." He licked his lips and twisted the strap tighter. "That it's all right."

"What's all right?"

The boy raised his wide, moist eyes to Harry. "That it's all right…to love."

Harry finally caught up and felt like the biggest fool there ever was. He ran his hand over his face and walked in a small circle. He, too, darted a glance at the closed door. Harry took stock. This was the moment when he had to decide if he was going to be a teacher who followed all the set rules of his society, or if he was going to reach out to a hurting individual and be his friend. Funny. There was really nothing to decide.

He made himself stand in front of Treeloft and look at him. "You mean about Professor Malfoy and I being…together."

"Yes," he whispered and it seemed to be a great relief to him when he said it.

"Oh Malcolm. Blimey. It's very difficult, isn't it?"

"When did you first know, sir?"

"Oh let me see!" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked up into the rafters. "I guess for sure when I was twelve. The funny thing is, that's when I fell for Professor Malfoy, and he was no prize then, I can assure you. In fact, we were mortal enemies."

"Did he know then, sir?"

"No. Not until quite recently, really. I…I don't want to get too personal here, Malcolm. I don't know whether it's appropriate…"

Treeloft shook his head. "That's okay. I'm ready to tell you why I was at Hufflepuff that night I had my accident."

Harry swallowed and gazed neutrally at the boy. "Go on."

"It was because of…because of Fenwick."

"Rupert Fenwick?"

"Yes. I just thought if I was nearby I'd see him. I didn't even want to talk to him. I wouldn't know what to say."

"About what?" Fenwick stood in the doorway, his hand pressed on the door.

Treeloft reddened and turned back toward Harry, pleading with his eyes. "There's a book I need to get," he told Treeloft. "Come on in, Fenwick. We're done here." Harry trotted up the stairs to his study but couldn't help but hear the conversation below.

"I waited for you, Treeloft. You have my homework for Transfigurations, you know."

"Oh. Sorry."

There was a long silence where Harry could only guess they were assessing one another.

"So I heard my name mentioned," said Fenwick. "Nothing bad, I hope."

Harry crept to the archway and looked through the crack between the door and the jam. Treeloft was looking mighty nervous. I can't help you here, Malcolm. I was too cowardly myself. But Treeloft seemed to have decided. He dropped his book bag, considered for a moment, and then grabbed poor Fenwick and planted a long kiss to his mouth. Then, as quickly as he began, he let him go, grabbed his book bag, and stood there, ready to take flight.

Fenwick stared, his just-kissed mouth hanging open. "You bloody great prat! What took you so long?"

Treeloft, ready for a fight or a hex, was not expecting that. "What?"

Fenwick tossed down his book bag and punched a fist to his hip. "I heard what you thought in Defense you know, when I reached into your mind. I heard what you felt about me."

Treeloft's words came out as one long gasp. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Are you kidding? You're this really handsome Slytherin and I'm this skinny, funny-looking Hufflepuff. I wasn't sure if I could believe it."

"Well you can," he said, drawing closer.

"So you really do like me?"

"Yes! I really, really do!"

"Is that what makes you so sour all the time, Treeloft? You're in the closet?"

He shrugged miserably.

Fenwick laughed. "Well, you can join me in mine anytime, mate." He threw his arm around Treeloft's shoulders and kissed him in one loud smack. "Ready to go now? I think we have a lot to talk about."

Harry never saw such a blissful smile on Malcolm Treeloft before. Who knew? He left with Fenwick, though when they got to the door, they judiciously dropped their arms away from one another.

Harry rested his head against the jam and blew out a long breath. He thought teaching Defense was going to be the hardest part about being a teacher. How thick could you get?

* * *

A week later, the Great Hall was decorated for the Yule Ball and most of the teachers were there. Harry and Draco prowled the precincts making certain the students weren't getting into mischief-of any kind.

Draco met up with Harry again at the punch bowl. "Is it still alcohol-free, Harry?"

Harry sipped the pumpkin juice. "Yup. The little devils didn't know I charmed it so nothing could be added but the ladle."

"Oh, but they will keep trying, won't they."

"I'm sure they will." Harry looked Draco over and smiled. Out of the corner of his mouth he said, "You look absolutely gorgeous in those dress robes, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco stood a little taller. "Why thank you, Mr. Potter. May I say you are equally stunning in yours…and I can't wait to get you out of them."

"Draco, don't. We have several hours left here."

"I see something brewing between Treeloft and Fenwick. They are acting in a very conspiratorial manner."

"I can't believe I didn't tell you!" Harry smacked his forehead. With all the activity, he had actually forgotten to mention that a week ago. "They are an 'item'."

"What? Was that Treeloft's Dark problem?"

"Apparently so."

"Bloody hell." He watched them with renewed interest. "They aren't doing a good job of hiding it."

"And neither are you. I hear you were outed to Slytherin."

"That bloody bastard Harper did that, thank you very much. But fortunately, Slytherins are terribly loyal. At least when it suits. And they seem to like me."

"Really. That's great, Draco." He shuffled a little and looked up at Draco's stunning profile. How the idiot could ever have doubted his love… "I'm sorry I was such a prat about coming out and all. I didn't realize how dangerous it would be for us. Ron and Hermione were just so tolerant, as well as Dumbledore…not to mention Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall, I just figured…"

Draco looked at him. "McGonagall knows?"

"She's not stupid."

Draco sighed. "Blimey. This school knows every bloody thing about everyone."

Harry shrugged.

Draco blew out a breath and fisted his hands. He stared at the floor and shook his head. Then he blew out another breath and finally seemed to decide something. He turned to Harry in a rather formal fashion, gave him a brief bow, and said, "Mr. Potter, may I have the honour of this dance?"

Harry's jaw dropped. He darted his glance around the room. "Are you mad?"

Draco nodded his head and held his arms out. "Yes. Probably."

"Draco! We can't!"

"You just got done telling me how everyone knows anyway. Let's give the parents something real to complain about."

"You are out of your mind."

"Look, I just saved the life of the Hero of the Wizarding world. That makes me a hero for a change. Now let's see them complain about that! Come on. You're wasting all those years of dancing lessons."

"Well…" He looked around again. "If you're sure…"

"But I lead."

Harry blushed and took Draco's hand and laid the other on his shoulder before Draco spun him out on the dance floor. Some of the students stopped dead in mid-twirl, while others gave them wide smiles. Harry kept his terrified eyes fixed on Draco.

"You really are a good dancer, Malfoy."

"You're not bad yourself, Potter. Oops. Spoke too soon. That was my foot, you know."

"Sorry."

They swept by the teacher's table and Harry chanced a look at Dumbledore. His brows were raised but he was otherwise smiling. Sprout and Hagrid looked a little more than surprised, but Trelawney nodded as if she predicted it.

More students entered the dance floor, probably wanting to be involved in this very public and unique event, or at least to get a closer look. Harry spotted Treeloft and Fenwick. Treeloft's mouth was hanging open but Fenwick gave a thumbs up. Then an argument ensued between them and Harry could only guess at the subject.

"So Malfoy," he said, looking at his cool gray eyes, "how are we going to get out of this?"

"I'll dip you, of course."

"I don't mean that. When this gets to the parents-"

"Let them get their own partners."

"Malfoy, would you be serious for a second."

"I can't really. I am dancing with the love of my life and the music is wonderful and he is dancing perhaps not divinely but not too badly-"

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. And I am not scared out of my wits for what I have done. At least not until I come to my senses in the morning when it will be far too late."

"Do you think we have set a precedence?"

Draco glanced behind Harry. He turned him. "See for yourself."

Harry looked and there was Treeloft and Fenwick, doing their best to dance together. Some of the students were giving them a hard time, but the others, mostly girls, defended them.

"How about that?" muttered Harry.

"I would say your counseling skills are better than your charms."

"You don't think I'm charming?"

Draco smirked. Harry wanted very badly to kiss it, but he knew that that might be a little too shocking for an already unique evening. "No, you git. You are charming as hell. I mean your magical skills. I just saw Serenity Hudson and Felicia Rosencrantz foil your charmed punch and pour firewhiskey into it."

Harry strained his neck trying to look back at the table. "Damn! What are we going to do? We were supposed to be guarding that."

"There's nothing for it, I guess, except get rid of the evidence. Care for some punch, Mr. Potter?"

He allowed Draco to lead him in the direction of the punch table. "Why not, Mr. Malfoy."

Draco swirled him toward the table and they stopped before it. Harry lunged for a cup and the ladle and poured himself a drink, downing the whole thing. He coughed. "Yup. They got to it. Thank goodness."

Draco poured his own and sipped. He scanned the room. All eyes were still on them. "I can't believe I did that," he muttered, barely moving his lips.

"Neither can I." He refilled his cup and drank again. "Do you suppose they'll ever stop staring?"

"Don't know. But at least we probably stopped any further mischief."

"Yes, well why bother when the teachers can get into enough on their own."

"Uh oh. Here comes Dumbledore."

Harry stiffened and turned around. Dumbledore swept toward them, stroking his long silver beard. "Gentlemen." He took a cup, ladled some punch into it, and took a sip. He licked his lips and frowned. "Not the best brand of firewhiskey, I must say."

Draco moved forward. "It's really my fault. If you are going to sack anyone, it should be me."

"But I agreed," said Harry. "You'd have to sack both of us, really." He looked up at the old wizard's face anxiously.

"I've never sacked anyone for dancing, Mr. Malfoy, especially as well as you did."

"But we…ah…we…"

"I noticed Malcolm Treeloft and young Mr. Fenwick on the dance floor as well. And I must say, though their dancing was far less professional than yours Mr. Malfoy, they did put up a good show. And I have never seen Malcolm Treeloft look less…Dark." He lowered his gaze to Harry.

Harry shrugged.

"I have always felt that wizards and witches should be themselves, unless of course they became a threat to others, and the only threat to others would be if they were Dark witches or wizards. I think we have established that you are not a Dark wizard, Mr. Malfoy, and I do not think anyone would accuse Harry Potter of the same. And so, I say, live and let live."

"But sir," said Harry. "What if the owls start coming again?"

"Then we shall just have to have another Parent's Day. Right, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Oh yes. Because the first one went so well."

Dumbledore smiled, nodded to them, and made his way across the room.

Harry looked at Draco but neither said a word.

Felicia Rosencrantz pulled Serenity Hudson with her to the punch table and sidled up to Harry. She wore an abnormally wide grin. Draco rolled his eyes and dipped his head into his cup. "So, Professor," Rosencrantz began. Hudson tried to pull her away but Rosencrantz slapped the other's hand. "Does that mean that Professor Malfoy is your…your boyfriend?"

"Um…yeah. I guess so."

She stifled a giggle and straightened, trying on a more mature attitude. "I think this was very brave of you."

"Really? Then why do I feel so terrified?"

"Oh everyone will get used to it," she said, waving her hand. "And Treeloft! Who would have guessed that?"

Serenity Hudson was staring at Draco. He sneered back at her. "You two are in love, aren't you? I can tell."

Draco softened slightly. He glanced over at Harry. "What's not to love?"

Hudson finally successfully pulled Rosencrantz away in a flourish of giggles and Harry breathed again. He looked at Draco who was doing his best not to laugh.

"I don't know why I'm laughing. I should be terrified. Here's a whole new reason for the parents to hate me."

Harry grabbed his arm and moved him away from the punch. "You said you were used to people hating you."

"Yeah, but my job didn't depend on it before. I rather like this job and I want to keep it."

"Glad to hear it, Malfoy. So why did you jeopardize it with that stunt?"

He shook his head. "Frankly, I don't know. It just seemed like the right thing to do. And I did love dancing with you."

Harry smiled up at him. "Well, it's a good thing it's a holiday break, because if there were classes tomorrow, we'd never get anything done."

"Oh God. They'll all go home and tell their parents."

"Honestly, Malfoy. Don't you think before you do anything?"

They stood silently and sipped their punch, but more students than ever seemed to be looking at them. And some were even pointing and giggling. "What the hell is wrong with everyone now?" hissed Draco.

Harry's eyes traveled upward to where the students were pointing and he suddenly cringed. "Bugger. That's why."

Draco followed his gaze. They were standing directly under a sprig of mistletoe. He looked over at Harry and a wicked smile spread on his face.

"Draco. You wouldn't."

"We're already in enough trouble." He moved closer.

"Draco! This is not a good idea."

"Look, they're all expecting it now." His hand came up and rested on Harry's shoulder.

"Dancing is one thing…They'll get used to that. But their male teachers snogging each other? I don't think Dumbledore would like it."

"'Live and let live', he said. You going to argue with the headmaster?" His other hand slid around Harry's waist.

"Draco, you git!" He darted a quick glance to his audience and suddenly threw up his hands. "All right," he said softly, "but nothing out of hand, okay?"

"I promise to keep you well in hand, Potter." Draco leaned in and pressed his lips chastely to Harry's, resting them there for only a few seconds before pulling away.

The students clapped, but Harry could feel his face blushing furiously. He couldn't remember much of the rest of the Yule Ball, but he did remember thinking with amazement after all that had happened, that their first school term at Hogwarts wasn't even half over.


The End


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"Love and Death"

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