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Chapter 1: The Mirror of All Souls

http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=13093&chapter=1

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or this fictional universe. JK Rowling, some publishers, and some film companies own everything. I'm not making anything from this except a hobby.

Timeline and Caveats: This story follows Canon Books 1-5 and an alternate sixth year. HBP never happened. Instead, A Year Like None Other took place. You're advised to read that first before starting this story, but in case you need the Cliff Notes: Harry got adopted by Snape, Draco turned to the Light, and then Snape adopted him as well. The Dursleys all died except for Dudley who lost a lot of weight and found his heart with the help of a talented therapist. So, Harry's got a father and brother now, plus a cousin he can stand. Since Year was started before HBP came out, some other things in this universe differ from canon. In this universe, Snape *is* a pureblood and his father's name was Hostilian (which tells you a lot all by itself). Dumbledore never died, but Pansy Parkinson did, and Theodore Nott went to Azkaban for murdering her. Draco is younger than Harry, but only by a few days. I'm sure there's more but that's what comes to mind. Just remember, nothing that we found out in HBP necessarily matters in this story. And now, on with the show.

Author's Note: If you'd like to see the wealth of art that was created for A Year Like None Other, please visit the Art Gallery I have set up to display the lovely things fans have created and sent me. If I get art for this story it will be hosted there as well. You can find the Art Gallery at http://aylnoartwork.havenofdreams.com/.

Thanks as ever to Mercredi for the support and beta!

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A Summer Like None Other

by Aspen in the Sunlight

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Chapter One:

The Mirror of All Souls

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This certainly wasn't like any summer Draco had ever had. He was used to spending his holidays in Wiltshire, surrounded by luxury, lazing about in a bedroom easily the size of Severus' entire quarters. To still be sharing a room, even during the holidays, was a bit much. The fact that they were still in the castle hardly mattered; he'd be sharing with Harry even after they went to Devon!

Then again, it was a bit nice to have a brother to do things with. Holidays for Draco had most often been lonely times, with only tutors and elves around, except during each night's rather formal dinner. True, he'd had a private Quidditch pitch all to himself, but one-on-none Quidditch just wasn't that much fun. Now he could test his skills against Harry, who really was quite a good Seeker.

Not better than Draco, of course.

But good, yes. Very good. Even with a Firebolt XL under him, Draco had to struggle to get to the Snitch first. And oh, how that was worth it! The look on Harry's face whenever Draco bested him!

Sometimes it was Harry who won their impromptu matches. But that was all right. Those losses made Draco try all the harder the next time they played. He could feel his skills being stretched and sharpened every time he and Harry took to the pitch.

His final Quidditch season at Hogwarts was really going to be something . . . but only if Harry decided to play for Gryffindor once more. The Weasley girl wouldn't present nearly as much of a challenge.

And Draco was looking forward to the challenge of taking Harry on again, in front of the whole school, and this time, winning.

Not that Quidditch completely filled their days. Harry spent every morning helping Severus and Lucinda in the lab. He chopped and minced and diced and purÈed whatever Severus said, and because Draco had nothing else to do, he'd got in the habit of helping out as well. Actually, he'd pretty much had to. The whole idea was to assist Severus and Lucinda to improve the Wolfsbane potion. Harry was involved out of concern for his werewolf friend. Severus didn't even really need the assistance, but he knew how much Harry wanted to help.

Draco's motive was just as laudable. Oh, not that he cared about Lupin overly much. He did care, however, about his mother. And at the moment, Lupin's continued safety in his masquerade was important for Narcissa. If the Dark Lord should ever find out about Lupin's double life, Narcissa would come in for her share of blame. And torture, no doubt. No matter that she hadn't known a thing.

So, it was best to keep Lupin's true nature as submerged as they could. It was best that everyone, Narcissa included, believe him to be Lucius. Draco tried hard not to think too much about everything that might mean, but sometimes at night, he couldn't stop himself from running scenarios in his mind. His mother expected a kiss now and again, he knew. He'd seen her lift her hand expectantly to his father, and more rarely, her lips.

Did Lupin follow through on her suggestion?

Draco would shudder in his bed when he thought about it. Lupin would have to, right? It was part of the masquerade. But awful, so awful. Draco didn't want his mother being touched, not even casually, by a half-human creature like a werewolf.

He knew better than to say such things out loud, though. Harry was all right most of the time, but nothing raised his hackles faster than Draco's so-called racism.

Racism, honestly! It wasn't. It wasn't anything of the sort. Draco was just sensible, that was all. Who would want their mother hanging about with a rabid creature who carried a dreadful communicative disease? Not him, that was for certain. But the Wolfsbane potion helped keep the worst traits of the werewolf at bay, so Draco chopped and minced and diced right alongside Harry, all the while keeping his dire thoughts to himself.

Well, almost all the while. He did have limits.

Severus seemed to understand that. Harry had clearly intended to work all day, every day, on the Wolfsbane experiments, and Draco would have done likewise, just to keep up with how things were going, but Severus had put an end to that idea. He'd insisted that he and Lucinda needed to work on their own in the afternoons.

On their own. Now there was a joke. The headmaster kept dropping by on the most daft, transparent excuses Draco had ever heard. The man was sweet on Lucinda; it was clear as day. Draco didn't say anything about it, though, not even in jest. It was one thing to tease Severus a bit about Marsha. As annoyed as Severus might get, he'd never really hold it against Draco.

Draco wasn't so sure about the headmaster. Best to tread carefully there. Draco felt like he was almost at Hogwarts on sufferance, after the way he'd been cast out of classes and then expelled. He'd been reinstated, yes, and most of the time he felt welcome. All those points to Slytherin had helped. But still, he wasn't really comfortable enough to take liberties.

Not like Harry did. He talked to the headmaster like the two of them were old friends, sometimes. And Draco just couldn't see himself ever doing that. Draco would never admit it to anyone--though Severus probably knew--but Dumbledore frightened him a little.

So, mornings for the Wolfsbane and afternoons for Quidditch. Evenings though, most often found Draco and Harry continuing their explorations of the castle. It had more mazelike corridors and dusty nooks and crannies than Draco would have guessed, but of course the Marauder's Map was very helpful in helping them know where they'd explored and where they hadn't.

If Harry would look at it more often, that was.

"We've been in that room before," said Draco, sighing a bit. "Before term ended, even. Don't you remember? We talked about your problem. You aren't still . . . er, sticking yourself, are you? I mean, Severus really did defend you in spectacular fashion. That must have helped you feel better, eh?"