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Description
Title: Hey There Draco
Author: Ruby13b
Summary: Set in the summer after 5th year.
Warnings: Adult Language, Sexual Content, Violence.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am owned by no one!!
Author's Notes: Thanks to all the readers! Thanks to M! ^_^

This is a Harry/Draco fanfiction. Meaning boy/boy. If you don't like don't read. You have been warned!!

Harry had no clue where the idea had come from. Perhaps he had read it in a text book somewhere. He may have found it sometime when he had been at Hogwarts researching. It might have been then that he had come across it. Or maybe not. He also didn’t know if it was even possible. He thought that it might be, but he had to know for certain. Harry knew exactly who would be able to tell him about it. Remus Lupin had been a very knowledgeable teacher. There were so many subjects he was familiar with. If anyone could tell him, it would be Lupin.

Harry looked over at Draco. He was nestled in the blankets, curled on his side. It was still early in the morning and Draco, it seemed, had finally gotten to sleep. Harry had not told Draco of the plan. Harry had only told Draco that he needed Draco’s help. Harry didn’t want to tell Draco what he was thinking until he was positive himself that it was real. That is where Professor Lupin came in. Harry was certain that Lupin would not mention that Harry had questioned him to anyone else. Lupin had always been a private man, and therefore he understood the need to keep personal matters secret.

Harry got out of bed, tiptoeing across the room to the door so as not to wake Draco. Harry couldn’t wait any longer. He needed to speak with Lupin now, before everyone woke. He knew that Lupin would be awake. Harry wasn’t sure the man ever slept. Or maybe when he did sleep, he just got up earlier than everyone else.

Harry found Professor Lupin downstairs, sitting at the kitchen table. Lupin had papers spread out in front of him. He appeared to be very weary, and he gave a heavy sigh before he wrote something down on a piece of paper with a tattered, ancient looking quill. Lupin looked up as Harry entered and seemed to be a little surprised to see him. Lupin smiled at Harry, nonetheless, and went back to his writing as Harry took a seat opposite him at the table. Harry was silent for a few moments. Every now and then Lupin would look up at him, smile, and go back to his work. However, each time he did this, his smile would become a little less inviting, a little more concerned and a little more uneasy. It was like Lupin knew that Harry was about to ask him something of the utmost importance. Just as Lupin was about to ask Harry what the matter was, Harry spoke:

“Is Necromancy possible?”

Lupin laughed a little, surprised at such a random question. Could this really be what was bothering Harry? Lupin stopped laughing upon catching the determined look on Harry’s face. His smile died down and he became very serious. He considered Harry for a moment, not certain how to answer. How would he be able to explain this? It wasn’t exactly a subject he wanted Harry to trouble himself with. It was a dangerous one, and never a very satisfying one. At best, it left the inquirer in a worse place than when he had begun. No, it was not something Lupin wanted Harry to get involved in at all -- though Lupin could understand how the subject could seem tempting to Harry.

“Well?” Harry said impatiently. Every moment counted here. Harry didn’t want to waste any time. “Is it?”

“I suppose you mean to bring Sirius back from the other side,” Lupin said.

Harry didn’t answer, and he kept his face neutral. Yes, that was in fact what he wanted to do. But he didn’t want Lupin to know that. He didn’t want anyone to know. Harry would have to tell Draco. But that would be the only other person who would know.

Lupin sighed, laying down his quill. “Let me tell you something about Sirius Black, Harry,” Lupin told him. He paused, collecting his thoughts. Harry frowned. He didn’t want to hear what Lupin had to say. He didn’t want to hear anything about Sirius. Sirius was already on his mind enough without talking about him. “You have to remember, Harry, that Sirius was not a young man when he died. Premature as his death may have been, he lived his life and he died protecting the person who was most dear to him.”

“It was my father,” Harry cut in dully. “Sirius wanted me to be my father’s replacement. He often called me by my father’s name.” This was still very painful to Harry. There were some things he just wanted to forget. “Moments before Sirius died, he called me James,” Harry said in a choked whisper. “That was who he cared for the most. Not me.” Harry supposed that a part of him was angry at Sirius. Harry would never admit that to anyone, though.

“Sirius did care very deeply for James. That is true,” Lupin said. “But what you have to understand is that their friendship was deeper than any other I have ever seen. They understood each other in ways I will never know. They were inseparable. I was sometimes envious of how close they were,” Lupin admitted. He gave Harry a very sad smile. Harry gulped and lowered his eyes to the table. “Even so, another thing you have to know, Harry, is how much Sirius really did love you.”

Harry hung his head. Lupin’s kind words felt like daggers in his heart. This wasn’t the conversation he wanted to have. He didn’t want to hear how much Sirius had loved him. He didn’t want to know.

“Sirius may not have shown it,” Lupin continued, “but he was extremely fond of you. You were all he talked about. Not James, or your mother, or anyone else, but you, Harry.” Lupin suddenly became very stern. The sparkle that was normally in his eyes faded. “I wouldn’t waste your time trying to resurrect ghosts of the past, Harry. You’ll only be disappointed in the end.”

Lupin checked the watch on his wrist, collected his papers and headed for the door. He paused, glancing back at Harry and giving him a very concerned look.

“Please consider what I said and take my advice. I don’t want you to spend your life looking for something that cannot be retrieved.” Lupin pushed open the door and was about to walk through when he hesitated. “At least, it cannot be retrieved without paying a hefty price.” Giving Harry one last calculating look, Lupin left.

Harry got up and trudged slowly back to his room. His head was swimming. Lupin had not answered Harry’s question. Harry knew that Lupin was the type of person who would have told him without resistance if something were impossible. Therefore, by Lupin not answering the question, he had confirmed that it was possible. Harry had not expected Lupin to tell him how Necromancy was done. All Harry wanted to know was is if it was real or not.

Harry opened the door to his bedroom noisily and walked in to the room, not caring how loud he was being. Draco sprang up in his bed, rubbing his eyes, which was of course what Harry had wanted. Draco glared at him as Harry went over to his own bed and sat down.

“Where have you been?” Draco asked, disgruntled. It was obvious that Draco had actually been sleeping and did not appreciate being woken up.

Harry didn’t answer the question. Instead, he asked a question of his own. “How much do you know about Necromancy?”

Draco considered Harry for a moment or two. He was still very sleepy, and it took his mind a few seconds to process the question. “Not much,” he said, yawning and lying back down. “I’ve only…” he stopped and sat back up again. His eyes were wide. “No,” he said firmly. “No. There’s no way I’m going to help you research Necromancy.”

“You already promised that you would,” Harry said stubbornly.

“I didn’t know you meant that,” Draco insisted. “You’re such a wimpy Gryffindor; I thought it wouldn’t really be Dark Magic at all.”

“At least I’m not a coward like some people I know,” Harry returned evenly. “You’re too scared.”

“With good reason!” Draco exclaimed. “Necromancy is Dark Magic. My own father doesn’t dare trifle with it. It’s dangerous. Nothing good ever comes of it.”

“Since when have you been concerned with what’s good?” Harry asked. Draco was silent. Harry sighed. “Please, Draco,” Harry whined. “I need help with this. And you’re the only one here who can help me.”

Draco ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re going to be the death of me. You do realize that, don’t you?” Draco said, defeated.

Harry nodded solemnly. Yes, he knew that all too well. Harry was likely to be the death of himself, too. But if it meant finding Sirius, he didn’t care what he had to do.

Draco abruptly began coughing. He covered his mouth with his hand and took a few shaky deep breaths. Harry was momentarily distracted away from Sirius as he watched Draco cough.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked.

“I’m fine,” Draco answered, rubbing his chest.

Harry nodded, and his thoughts drifted back to Sirius. Now that he knew that Necromancy was possible, Harry found himself hoping as he had never dared to allow himself to hope before.

“Before we do this,” Draco’s voice cut into Harry’s thoughts, “may I ask you one question?’

“Alright.” Just the one?

“Why are you going so far for this Sirius Black person?” Draco asked. “Didn’t he betray your parents?” Ah, it wasn’t going to be just one question.

“No,” Harry answered. “Sirius was framed.”

“But still. Why go through all of this trouble for just one person? You didn’t even know him very long.”

“I suppose I just have to,” Harry said. He pictured Sirius clearly in his mind. He could see Sirius’ smile. Harry looked up at Draco and gave him a very sad smile of his own. “He was the closest thing to a parent I’ve ever had. And ever will have.”

Draco looked for a moment like he might say something, but then he just closed his mouth and said nothing more. Harry glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was five-thirty in the morning. Draco put his hand over his mouth and yawned. There was no way he’d be able to go back to sleep now. The one time he had actually been sleeping was the time Harry decided to wake him up. Draco glared at Harry, but Harry was oblivious to his glare. Yes. It was all Harry Potter’s fault, Draco decided.

“Do you want to check out the Library?” Harry asked enthusiastically.

Draco sighed heavily. “Fine,” he agreed moodily, “since I know I have no hope of getting rid of you until we find what you’re looking for.”

Harry nodded in agreement. That was true after all. Harry needed Draco’s help. This wasn’t something he wanted Ron or Hermione or anyone else to know about. They just wouldn’t understand. In a way he didn’t want them to understand. Harry loved his friends dearly, but they could be rather overbearing at times and they tended to ask a lot of uncomfortable, unnecessary questions. Draco only asked what he needed to know and nothing more. Harry suddenly wondered what it would have been like if he and Draco had met on friendlier terms. Could they have ever become friends? What would that have been like? What would have happened if Harry had taken Draco’s hand on the train, that first year? If Draco hadn’t been so rude? What would have happened then? What would have happened to them? Harry looked over at Draco. Draco would have never allowed Harry to be friends with Ron and Hermione. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were just not meant to be friends. Harry regretted nothing. That is what he told himself, at least.

Harry got up from his bed and motioned Draco to follow. Draco did and together they snuck out of the room and into the hallway. They crept like cats down the stairs and into the drawing room. From there, they could see the door to the Library, which was at the far end of the room. It wasn’t locked. Harry knew this because he had opened it the first night he had been there to see what was on the other side. Yes, the door wasn’t locked but it was closed in an unfriendly way.

Harry opened the door to the Library without pausing and walked through. Draco hesitated for a moment before following Harry inside, closing the door behind them. Draco stared at all the books around them in awe. Shelves upon shelves of books made up the Library and there were piles of stacked books littering the floor. The Library obviously hadn’t been used for awhile as the coat of dust on the books was heavy and there were cobwebs in the corners on the room and on the ceiling. In the center of the room was a square-shaped table with four chairs surrounding the sides. Harry walked over to the table, placed his hand on its surface and withdrew it. The imprint of his hand was left in the dust.

Turning around, Harry grinned at Draco. “Well? What do you think?”

“We’re bound to find something,” Draco said, nodding, while he silently wondered why this room hadn’t been barred, chained and off limits.

“Yes,” Harry agreed. He suddenly was very excited again. What secrets could this room hold?

“As I see it,” Draco said, absentmindedly rubbing the bruise on his cheek and taking a few steps, “we have about forty-five minutes before the rest of the house wakes up. We ought to be out of here by then. It’s true that we weren’t told not to be in here, but I don’t think they would let us be in here willingly, either.”

“That’s true,” Harry said. He was glad Draco had mentioned that. “If they catch us, we’ll never be allowed in here again.”

“So we just won’t get caught,” Draco said simply. He examined a pile of nearby books, still rubbing his cheek.

“Hey, Draco? What happened to your face?”

Draco stopped rubbing his cheek and glared at Harry. “I could ask you the same thing, except you were just born.”

“Hey!” Harry exclaimed indignantly. “I just wanted to know.”

“Nothing happened,” Draco muttered, not looking Harry in the eye. “I’m careless. That’s all.”

Harry wasn’t taking Draco’s word for a second, but he pried no further. They had more important things to do.

Harry and Draco spent the next fifteen minutes in silence pouring over books. Harry found it quite tedious. He actually had no idea what he was really looking for, which made the task even harder. Draco seemed to know what he was doing, though, which was a great comfort to Harry. At least Draco would be able to find something. Draco closed his book, heavily.

“Did you find anything?” Harry asked anxiously.

Draco shook his head. “No,” he said wearily. “It’s going to take some time.”

Harry nodded. He was rather disappointed, though he knew it had been too much to hope for to find what they needed on the first go. Harry checked the watch on his wrist.

“We better go,” Harry said to Draco, “before they notice that we’re gone.”

“And wonder where we are,” Draco added.

As quietly as they could, Harry and Draco crept out of the Library and into the drawing room. Harry shut the door to the Library and nodded at Draco. Draco nodded back and together they headed to the kitchen. Looking back Harry supposed that it must have looked rather suspicious that they entered the kitchen together, but luckily no one said anything. There weren’t that many people in the kitchen to begin with. It was only Tonks, who was bleary-eyed and had her head bent down in front of her cup of coffee, Mrs. Weasley, who smiled at them as they came in, and Mr. Weasley, who had his nose stuck in a copy of The Daily Prophet.

“Good morning, boys,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. “You’re up early. I think my children could learn something from you.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, sitting down at the empty end of the table.

Draco sat down next to Harry and they exchanged a small look. It was the kind of look that no one would have seen unless they were looking for it. Tonks had seen it. At first she thought it had only been her imagination due to lack of sleep. But then she realized that the boys seemed to be sitting rather close to one another. The table was nearly empty. Draco could have sat down far away from anyone, but he didn’t. He had chosen to sit right next to Harry. The look had been unsettling, too. Tonks wasn’t sure what it had meant. She wasn’t going to believe that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had become friends in less than a week. She hoped against hope that they weren’t up to something. It wasn’t like the twins. The twins were always up to something. She knew to never trust them completely.

Tonks considered asking Harry and Draco what they were up to for a moment. But then, she decided against it. Whatever they were doing couldn’t be completely horrible. It was Harry Potter. Nothing he ever did was without good intention behind it. Draco Malfoy was a different story, but even he wouldn’t try to pull anything. Not while he was in lion territory, at any rate. He was far too clever for that.

Harry, meanwhile, was oblivious to the close surveillance he was under as he poured a glass of pumpkin juice, first for Draco and then for himself. As Draco took a sip of his juice, he noticed how closely Tonks was watching both him and Harry. Draco smirked. Yes. Things were getting very interesting. Draco wondered what Tonks was going to do. He knew he was up for a challenge. There wasn’t anything better to do. Maybe he would have a little fun with her.

Tonks decided not to do anything for the moment and just watch what happened next. Really, how bad could it be?