Rating: M

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Harry Potter.

Disclaimer: France, 1852. Harry Potter is the apprentice to Head Healer Snape in Calais, and is taken on a weekend to Paris to attract potential clients. During that weekend he meets aristocrat Draco Malfoy, suffering from consumption. Ten years later Harry suffers his worst nightmare of a very ill Draco disappearing over the side of boat. Should he listen to his heart and go in and rescue his lover? Or should he simply let his suffering end at the bottom of the river? Either way he may have to go into the deep to find the answers. This tale faces the hardships of Stockholm Syndrome, severe depression, and a battered tormented love buried deep inside.

I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: This story is dedicated to my dear friend Melissa. I have struggled with keeping on target for this one and I know she's sitting at her desk cackling away at me.

Into the Deep

PAST

Part 1

Calais, France, 1852

Calais, France in the year 1852 was the year where Harry Potter's life took such a dramatic turn of events and had quite literally changed his life forever. He had been training underneath a very prestigious Healer in the French wizarding community and spent a lot of his time studying in the basement of the apothecary, his clothes often smelling heavily of various forms of incense and potions ingredients. He didn't mind it because he truly did love what he was studying. He got to sit in on surgeries and analyse various patients under the effects of different treatments. He didn't mind being on trivial duties that sent him around the hospital; he liked the menial tasks as much as the elaborate ones and would write long letters to his father in London, informing him about the various things he was learning about. He earned barely enough to keep himself alive on but he truly did love the work that he couldn't turn his back away from it.

The night that changed his life was a balmy May evening and the Head Healer, whom had been training Harry and taken him under his wing, and had invited Harry along with a few other protégées to a formal gathering in an expensive hotel in Paris. They were to get the train from three blocks away from the hospital they worked at and needed to bring a smart set of dark, formal robes to the function. They were to be upholding the name of the hospital and hopefully gather some possible new patients or even new recruits. The hospital always needed more recruits especially in the spell-damage ward. They needed more people to study the various effects that spells had on different people and how to reserve them. When they were being told that Harry had merely nodded along, partly because it didn't really apply to him as he was more focused on the potions aspect of things.

That night they had all been allowed enough time to bathe themselves and have an early dinner so that they could be ready for the long walk to the hotel. The walk was to mentally prepare themselves for when they met the people congregating at the hotel; there were to be a lot of head aurors and professors, even some people who worked for the Paris Ministry of Magical Defence and various high-up pureblood families, even a few who had come from Germany and Italy. Harry had felt a little queasy at the thought of being around so many socialites and wealthy people, including prospective medical students and other people who were on a small break from neighbouring universities. It made him feel a little on edge but he had been psyching himself up all night to get ready for the long weekend. They had three nights of this and he was determined to do it.

As he stepped into the foyer of the hotel behind Head Healer Snape and the few other medical students who had agreed to come along to the trip, Harry couldn't help but express his wonder at how beautiful the glittering décor of the high walls and the chandeliers hanging overhead were. It had taken his breath away as soon as he'd seen them. He fixed his glasses on the end of his nose and followed his fellow companions over to a small place where he handed his travelling cloak to a tall, gloomy looking man in a dark suit.

Healer Snape led them through a series of wide, brightly lit hallways until he came to a huge set of double door that were opened for them once they'd presented their invitations. The large ballroom was a bright array of smooth woods and gold and peach glazed walls and gold trimming everywhere. It all looked so beautiful that Harry just wanted to stand and stare at it for the entire night, but he knew he couldn't. They were there to work, the beautiful of the place was merely an added bonus to soak up as he trailed to one end of the room a few paces behind his classmate –Ronald, was it? –and took a glass of fizzing champagne from the gleaming wooden bar and turned to face the room, using his analytical mind to draw out any people he could talk to and try and engage them in a conversation on the medical sciences associated to being a healer and how even a degree in potions alone could enable you to gain an apprenticeship with Healer Snape.

"Pardon my intrusion, since you appear to be very deep in thought, but it seems to me that you've bored yourself into a catatonic state, unless I am very much mistaken?" purred a voice that trailed over Harry like silken ribbons wrapping around his muscles. He turned around on the spot in a whir of golden infused light and came face-to-face with a tall aristocratic looking blonde with chiselled alabaster features, steely grey eyes and petal pink lips drawn up into an amused smirk. Harry peered a little higher –the man was at least a head taller than he was –and saw that his slicked back hair was a fine shock of white-blonde hair that glistened like pale gold in the lamplight. The man extended his hand, clutching a flute of champagne in his free hand, and smirked a little wider, "My name is Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy. May I enquire as to who you are?"

He seemed polite enough if even a little on the haughty side, but it was that smirk that enticed Harry to continue the conversation and slip his hand into the blonde man's hand and shook it firmly. "Harold Potter, but please just call me Harry. This is my first night in Paris and I'm not entirely sure where I should be or if there is anyone that I should be specifically talking to."

"Well I should avoid that short woman over there who looks a little bit like a bloat bullfrog," Draco stated in a cool manner indicating a rather rotund woman in a set of flamboyant pink dress robes, her brunette hair tightly curled on the top of her head, outlining the rather lumpy edge of her skull. Harry was momentarily captivated, wondering about the muscles that must strain to work as the woman rambled on at such a rapid pace that he couldn't help but wonder what kept her jawbone connected. "That's Dolores Umbridge, she tends to sneer down at a lot of people who don't meet up to her rather impossibly high standards."

Harry turned with an amused eyebrow raised up at the blonde and raised his flute to sip from it, "Are you telling me that you are not too high up in the eyes of society to look down on little people like me?"

Draco turned with surprised raised eyebrows for a moment before he schooled his features into his previous smirking mask, "Oh? And how are you a small person in the eyes of society, young Harold?"

"Harry," the brunette corrected, trying not to let any measure of annoyance ebb into his voice, "And I am just here as a Healers apprentice from Calais for the weekend. I'm not really on any level of society, but I am training to be a healer so that I can be as decent as Snape, if I can be."

"Oh, you're apprenticing underneath Snape?" Draco's voice held a note of interest and approval for which something warm swelled within Harry's chest. "Oh, he is certainly a great teacher you should learn a lot from here I dare say." He sipped from his flute.

"Have you been to one of his lectures in Calais before?" Harry asked as he drained the rest of his champagne and then set it back behind him on the bar.

Draco shook his head, "No, actually, he is my godfather. He did use to teach me potions before I was accepted to Beauxbatons School. So how long have you been studying underneath him?"

"Well initially I had meant to start two years ago but due to my mother's poor health I had to postpone until this year. I have only been with him a few months, since January, so not too long really. However, in my last review he did mention that I have progressed a great deal more past the others and he feels that I may be able to take on a few more duties once we return back to Calais." He turned to look Draco up and down and didn't know why he found himself surprised at the expensive cut of his dress robes and the expensive snake signet rink adorning his pale finger. "What is it that you do? Have you ever thought to study under your godfather and learn the trade of being a Healer?"

Draco snickered lightly and drained the last of his own flute and shook his head, his blonde hair not moving a fraction. "No, I find that I have been spending a lot of my current time being on the receiving end of the healers hands instead of getting to help anybody unfortunately."

Even though his tone indicated that he would appreciate a change of topic, he couldn't stop the question from falling from his lips and spilling out into the air. "What are you suffering from, if it's not too impertinent a question to ask?"

Draco hummed at the back of his throat before shaking his head, "No, of course not. As an apprentice healer you have every right to want to ask questions. That's a good thing, bear than in mind for future reference. With Snape you can never be afraid to ask questions that may need to be asked, alright? He likes getting questioned. He feels that the less you question things at such an early stage, you might as well castrate yourself as soon as possible and go and wear ladies underwear." He smiled to himself, "And as for your question; it's been said that I have a weak set of lungs. I'm not supposed to live past the age of thirty if I can even manage that."

It was such a young age and it struck Harry through his very core as he studied the blonde who looked like the picture of health. Okay, he did look a little on the skinny side, but perhaps he was merely lean. He looked like he could have muscles underneath those finely cut robes. He had some faint bags under his eyes that someone had tried to conceal with some finely tinted make-up and it had almost worked, but then Harry had studied bodies day-in and day-out for months on end. "Have you had a professional healer assigned to your case to take you in for assessments and making sure to document your progress with various potions?" he couldn't help but ask, feeling a little braver as he did so.

Draco looked down at the brunette apprentice with mild surprise and couldn't help himself feel a little excitable at what that question might mean. He wasn't holding out any hope, but he did enjoy talking to the young brunette. He tried to fit in without being insolent and he was certainly fairly passionate about what he could do with his apprenticeship. "Are you offering me to be your first private patient Mister Potter? Because if that's the case then I must say that I am intrigued as to how you would proceed with helping me fight my ailments, as I have been assured without a doubt that they cannot be healed."

Harry narrowed his eyes a little and found himself straightening up to his fall height which still onto put him eye level with Draco's pointed chin, "Mister Malfoy the world of healing potions in changing as we speak. Every day more people are finding new uses for various ingredients and making more and more cures, and you are standing there in all your finery as though you have given up and are just waiting for the right time to die!" he hissed out the last part out, not wanting to draw attention to the both of them.

Draco felt a flush creep up his neck as he grasped his empty flute in his hand, his face devoid of colour, even more so now. "How on earth can you tell that I have powder on my face?" he hissed, "I bought it for the sole purpose that I was told it was undetectable!"

"Perhaps to most others, but I woke with people and bodies in all walks of life every day so don't think I won't notice an unnatural complexion when I see one staring me right in the face."

Draco felt his lips curled into a sneer, "I think your teacher is looking for you, Potter," he sneered as he turned away and took another flute of champagne from the bar and then disappeared into the numerous black robes of the mass crowd that were milling around inside the function room. Harry was suddenly no longer in the mood to talk to anyone and was all too happy when Snape found him, followed by Ronald and Dennis and then escorted them back out to the main lobby where they gathered their travelling cloaks and out into the balmy night and back towards their own hotel a few blocks. No one spoke on the way back, not even Dennis who was the chirpiest one out of all of them.

As soon as he got into his shared hotel room with Ronald, Harry flopped down onto his bed as soon as he had hung up his dress robes and tie, making sure that they wouldn't crease before the following night and then collapsed in an exhausted heap on his bed. He would have fallen instantly asleep if it wasn't for Ronald flopping onto his own bed, still fully clothed, and his mouth hanging open to allow loud snores to fill the air.

Slipping into his own nightshirt he went over to close the curtains and then returned to his own single bed on the other side of the room and crawled in between the cool, clean sheets and settled down to sleep.

The following evening when they were all freshly shaven and dipped with a little scented oil behind the ears of a small aftershave derived from the 'love potion' to make one desirable to engage in a conversation. Apparently the evening prior Ronald and Dennis had not made great progressing in approaching people to discuss their new line of work and so Harry entered the ballroom that evening feeling a little on the energetic side, seeing as he was the only one who had been able to converse with someone let alone someone of such important as the heir to the Malfoy fortune. Harry had personally been praised by Snape beforehand.

As he accepted a flute of champagne and watched his companions drift away in the rest of the milling crowd, he surveyed the room to see if there was anyone he could talk with tonight. He felt a little discredited as he looked around the room and didn't see the shock of white-blonde hair that would have indicated the presence of Draco Malfoy. He felt a weight settle on his shoulders at the thought of having aggravated the blonde beyond belief so he wouldn't return the following evening. Perhaps he was only interested enough in dipping his toe into that specific social spectrum didn't like what he saw and simply opted to go to the opera or something else. Many suggestions were plausible. He was grateful that he was snapped out of his imaginings by Snape coming up to him and placing a hand on his elbow, "Harold I have someone here who wishes to meet the young man who spoke with his son the previous evening. Apparently you said a few things about our business that attracted his attention and he wishes to meet the person who managed to captivate his sons' interest on the subject."

Harry felt a heat creep up his neck and he felt his stomach knot in some dread. "Of course Professor," he managed to choke out before draining his flute in one gulp to regain a little bit of confidence. He was escorted across the room to where a group of tall older men were standing together in crisp black dress robes and talking over their flutes. One of them, no doubt Draco's father by the look of the white-blonde hair and pinched expression, grasped a cane in his left hand with a silvery snake wrapped around the head of the walking appliance. Harry had a sneaking suspicion that the cane was more for show than for actually aid the older man.

"Lord Malfoy, this is my protégée who I was telling you about last night. He is the only one out of my new apprentices who has managed to surpass the average standards of our work at the hospital. I am going to hire him as a part time assistant after this weekend as he is absolutely invaluable to the progress of our research at the hospital."

Lucius' cool admiration cut through and chilled Harry right to the bone. He didn't even blink as he sipped from his champagne flute and then inclined his head, "Well it would seem, Mister Potter that you have managed to keep my son chattering incessantly about your pig-headed nature. Alas, when he did inform me of the facts you laid down before him I must admit I was most impressed with the knowledge of someone so young."

Harry felt the heat on the back of his neck increase a little as he, too, inclined his head. "Your son very much flatters me, Lord Malfoy. I was merely explaining to him that he need not give up on modern medicine for we are now leaps and bounds ahead of where we were not three years ago and that if he had a regular physician there would be no need for ill-health for the majority of the year. He didn't seem particularly interested last night to continue our conversation though, so I am surprised he so much as mentioned me to you, your grace."

Lucius smirked a little wider and then moved his cool approval over to Snape. "You have done well in training this young boy, Severus. I daresay he will be your greatest accomplishment. He is certainly a credit to you." Severus inclined his head in much the same cool manner as Harry was accustomed to. "In fact, if you do not mind losing the company of young Mister Potter for a few moments, I would like to talk to him in private."

There were no objections and so within a few moments Harry found himself walking alongside Lord Malfoy, feeling as inferior as humanly possible, as they walked out on the outskirts of the garden of the hotel. They walked in silence for a little while and with no champagne flute in his hand to distract him and fumble with, Harry felt a little more vulnerable than he had been for the entire trip so far. "Now Mister Potter, I know that you did in fact say something that upset Draco last night and I would like to enquire as to what it was."

Harry turned to look up at the expressionless man and felt weak at the prospect that he certainly had indeed insulted Draco into not attending that evening. "Forgive me, Lord Malfoy, I had merely stated that I could see that he was wearing make-up to conceal how run down he was looking at the waxy quality of his skin and naturally he seems to have not appreciated such comments on my part."

Lucius chuckled dryly to himself, "On the contrary I found myself intrigued to meet you when he returned home in such a state. It seems he hung onto your every word and was quite interested." He turned to look down at Harry, "I pray to Merlin that you were not giving my son false hope, Mister Potter. If there is a way to cure my son or at the very least ease his discomfort, then I would be grateful in more ways than one. He is my only child after all."

"I understand that Lord Malfoy but I do not believe I was deceiving your son. Potions and medicine have developed at such an alarming rate recently that I do believe, given some more time, there will be something to at the very least ease your sons discomfort and to perhaps give him a better quality of life." He paused and licked his lips, "I assume that is why he isn't here tonight. Did he take ill since last night?"

"Indeed so, you have a sharp mind. Not that I doubted Severus of course. And in answer to your question, Mister Potter, yes; it would seem you made my son quite excitable and he had to stay in bed for the duration of the day."

"I didn't mean to cause you and your family such unwarranted distress," Harry gushed, feeling a cold dread sink into his stomach like a heavy weight.

Lucius shook his head, "Do no worry, it almost takes something as simple as the weather changing to get him worked up. Although I wish he wasn't so exhausted afterwards. It's almost as though he must live a passionless life in order to live longer."

Harry felt guilt settle inside his mind as they walked along the cool terrace surrounded by the balmy evening air. A light breeze ruffled his hair and he inwardly winced, especially seeing as how Lucius' hair remained unaffected. Not a hair was out of place. "If you don't mind my asking sir, but is your son afraid of his condition?"

"Why would you ask that?" Lucius enquired with a cool expression and an eyebrow hitched into his hairline.

"It's natural to be afraid of the things that we don't understand or fully know about," he stated matter-of-factly, "If your son is afraid then it might be partially psychological and he hinders his own progression with medicine by his mind rejecting any help without intention."

Lucius paused for a moment and seemed to be contemplating the possibility. "Well if that is indeed the case then what would you suggest countering it?"

Harry hummed softly before responding, "It could very well help him if he was instructed on how the body has been designed to work and some possibilities of his condition as well as how the medicine would indeed cure him or at the very least aim to make his life more bearable."

"And how would one go about doing such a thing as to ease this mild infliction on his mind?"

"Well one could try reading him medical journals about certain parts of the body; recent medical discoveries in the wizarding community that have cured other parts of the body and new theories of medicines about to be conducted and things like that. Having knowledge is one of the keys for people to believe that they are capable of fighting whatever ails them."

Lucius eyed him with scepticism before turning to face him, "And would you be willing to complete such a task for my son, Mister Potter? I daresay some company his own age would not go amiss either, if I dare say so myself."

Harry was shocked to say the least. What Lord Malfoy was suggesting was not something that had even entered into his mind. "W-wouldn't you prefer to have someone that you know informing your master Malfoy of such things? My presence would surely only disturb him further, and I wouldn't want to be a burden on you, Lord Malfoy."

"I daren't say that if it does not interfere with your work, then Severus would be more than happy. After all, you will be spreading the things he had taught you, and I don't doubt that there will be some other people around the manor who wouldn't mind enquiring some things of you. And you would be able to recommend them all to Severus for help."

"That is awfully gracious of you, Lord Malfoy. I just don't understand where this generosity is coming from. You're known to most of France as being somewhat of a … a …" he trailed off not wanting to sound as though he were insulting the Lord.

"Tyrant?" Lucius supplied with his usual dry chuckle, "Of course I am aware of the rumours and what they print in the papers. However, where my son is concerned I will do as much as I can to make sure he is comfortable. Even if it is for a short amount of time." He eyed Harry's obvious discomfort before sighing, "If you wish for me to convince Severus I don't mind taking on that task, but I would like you to agree first, otherwise there is no point for me to do so."

Harry nodded his head, "Yes sir, I think I would like that very much."

To Harry's surprise it didn't take long for Severus to be convinced that it would be a wonderful opportunity for the young apprentice to broaden his horizons and gain some extra knowledge of the apothecaries and tradesmen in Paris. Considering the progress Harry had made Severus had insisted that he take another day off in his week, so that he had a three-day weekend every week, for him to travel back and forth between Calais and Paris by coach as long as he studied frivolously for his exams in late June. Harry promised that he would and Lucius gave his condition that Harry were to come to the manor the following day to begin his readings to his son, and attend the final day of the function the following evening together.

And so that was how Harry found himself outside Malfoy Manor the following morning.

~0~

"You must be young Mister Potter?" a petite maid curtsied to him and he felt a flush creep up his neck as his travelling cloak was taken from him by another maid. "Do come in. Lord Malfoy and young Master Malfoy are in the drawing room. If you would follow me, I'll take you to them."

Harry nodded his head with a small smile as he stepped onto the polished marble tiles and trailed after the maid to the drawing room. The décor was just as beautiful as the hotel where the functions were being held. The tapestries were intricately woven and vast as they hung on the walls and the paintings of the families predecessors were breath-taking, if a little dark in the wide, somewhat gloomy room. If it hadn't been for the sunlight then the place would look rather bleak and miserable. The young maid cleared her throat and the two blonde heads looked up towards the door. Harry felt his cheeks heat up a little. Lucius inclined his head and beckoned him forward, whereas Draco puffed his chest out a little bit. Harry advanced into the room and stood on ceremony beside Lucius and Draco's chair, not entirely sure of what to do with himself. Lucius stood up and then waved Harry down into his chair. "Do sit, Mister Potter, I have business to attend to elsewhere. I daresay you brought some material to read to my son, have you not?"

Harry nodded indicating the slid leather satchel in his hand, "Of course sir, as per your instruction."

Lucius nodded his head and then left the room barking for the young maids to get back to their work. Harry flinched a little, having not heard Lucius raise his voice before, even if he had only met the man the night prior. Harry seated himself down his slim satchel pressed against his leg.

The silence reigned between them as the ticking of the clock on the mantel grew ever louder between them. It was Draco who finally broke the silence, his voice tight and cold unlike it had been the other night. "I see my father managed to cajole you into keeping me preoccupied while he goes about his political drivel."

Harry nodded weakly, "Yes he had but I also find that it would be beneficial to me if you agree to let me read to you."

"I am not so rich that I did not bother to read, Potter," the blonde man snapped irritably, his cheeks beginning to look a little clammy.

"Of course not, Master Malfoy, but sometimes having someone read it to you will fix it a little firmer into your mind so that you are more likely to remember it at a later date."

Draco huffed in annoyance and swiped a handkerchief from his top pocket and swiped it across his brow. "Fine," he huffed waving his hand at Harry, "Read if you must but I can't promise to pay attention to you."

Harry decided that was about as good as he was going to get for that morning, so he slipped out one of his first ever medical journals to study, flipped it open on his lap, and started to read.

By the time the young maid came back up for to bring them their mid-morning tea, Draco had to admit he found Harry's rendition of the medical journals a lot more interesting that he would have done if one of his old professors had been teaching him. He sat there in his straight-backed chair and steeped fingers and watched the young brunette man as he really got into the writing, and smiled to himself before he informed Draco of how a few of the discoveries had gotten muddled before printing, and some of the people got confused as to the positioning of some of the internal organs. As they sipped at their tea, Draco couldn't help but notice how truly entrancing the younger man was and he couldn't deny how intriguing Harry was becoming by the minute. He loathed admitting that his father had made an excellent choice in bringing Harry over to read to him.

At the end of a couple of hours Harry closed his second journal and placed it to one side, "If I've bored you into a coma you need only say and we can discuss something else, if you wish."

Draco blinked through his staring state and righted himself in his chair, "Not at all. I actually found it quite interesting. You have a talent for speaking out, Mister Potter. But I do tire from listening to all this medical jargon. Would you like to discuss something else? I'd be most obliged if you do."

Harry nodded his head, inwardly glad that Draco didn't want to get rid of him just then. For the rest of the morning they talked about their families and friends, political standings and how they liked their universities where they had studied. Draco had stated that he was inclined to take over the family business from his father. He said he didn't mind it but sometimes he needed something to distract him and take his mind off of things. Harry had even spent a little bit of time telling Draco about the English countryside and the blonde man had said that he wished he could take some time to go and see it. Harry had wanted to comment that the blonde seemed to have nothing but time on his hands but decided to hold his tongue, not wanting to annoy the blonde any further. In the end he promised to simply meet the blonde later that evening at the function in the hotel.

"I thought you were to be riding with Father and me to the hotel tonight?" Draco asked, frowning a little and looking a little peaky. So much so that Harry was tempted to reach over and check his temperature.

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck and frowned, "Well yes that was the plan, but I cannot go to dinner looking like this. I won't look nearly formal enough in front of all of your fathers associates."

Draco waved his hand, "Nonsense. If you'll allow me I'm sure there is something of mine that would fit you. I haven't cleared out any of my smaller robes, so I am sure one of them would fit you perfectly."

Harry felt flustered at the thought of wearing Draco's clothes, especially when he would never be able to afford something so finely cut even if he did manage to become a high ranking healer such as Snape. Draco beckoned him over as he moved towards the door, "Come on let's not waste time. If one of them fits you almost perfectly I'll have one of the maids shorten it and it'll be ready for tonight. You can keep it."

Harry shook his head and held up his hand, "Oh no, I couldn't possibly do that, Master Malfoy."

"Please let's not be formal, Harry. Call me Draco, unless I am royally frustrating you in which case call me whatever you like."

Harry couldn't hide the flush that crept up onto his cheeks as he followed Draco along a maze of marble corridors and towards his bedchamber. His bedchamber was dimly lit by two tall narrow windows on the wall opposite the four poster bed and the large ornate desk pressed up in the wall space between them. Walking over to the large wardrobe with wide oak doors, Harry watched as the tall blonde shifted through its contents before pulling out a few bags that contained beautiful dress robes that Harry found his mouth hanging open at the mere sight of them. A few maids wandered into the room and all too soon Harry found himself on a small stood having the smallest of the three dress robes, pinned and altered around his shorter frame and numerous jittering instructions to tell him that he needed to stop moving about. Harry watched as amused smirks played on Draco's lips as he sat in a chair and watched it all with delight playing in his grey eyes.

He really did have beautiful eyes, not that Harry was looking too much over at the blonde, trying to suppress his own embarrassed smile.

To say that nobody recognised Harry in the fine altered robes was an understatement. Lucius was able to hide most of his surprise except for in his eyes, so much like Draco's own, only a fraction colder, whereas Draco's were like warm mercury. Harry flushed a little as his slick backed hair actually stayed in its styled position, with the new scented wax that Draco had offered him earlier. He felt far too inferior compared to the rest of them and felt as though he was playing dress-up but he didn't voice any of these thoughts as he was invited to dine with the Malfoy's –the first time that Harry had met Narcissa Malfoy or even heard her name mentioned –before they set off in the large coach to the hotel where they stripped their travelling cloaks and walked into the function room where much the same people were there, including a flock of new people who may have heard all the commotion about the enthralling topics to be discussed, and couldn't pass up the chance to wag their own tongues and offering their personal opinions.

Lucius and Narcissa went off where they instantly caught sight of Severus and began talking to him off to one side. Draco and Harry were left to their own devices, so as soon as Harry grasped two champagne flutes for the both of them, silently grateful for the rich food that was settling his stomach, and handed one to the blonde man beside him. Draco turned to him with a lazy smirk, "Come on, how about we go and have a stroll in the gardens and enjoy the summer night." It wasn't a request but more of a statement as to what was going to happen whether Harry wanted it to or not. He didn't protest though. He rather liked the hotel gardens. As they strolled along the stone pathways Draco smiled genuinely for the first time, "I have to admit Harry that you are good company. I haven't heard such riveting passion from anyone in such a long time. I understand it that this is your last night in Paris, correct?"

Harry nodded his head, "Yes I must return to Calais and complete my studying for my exams in June."

Draco nodded in understanding, "I do not wish to lose correspondence with you, Harry. You seem to be one of very few people who don't bore me … How did you put it? Into a coma?" Harry nodded with an abashed smiled and Draco returned it before sipping from his flute, "Would you write to me when you are not too busy studying for your exams?"

Harry blinked in surprise, "You really think that I have anything worthwhile that would keep you interested?"

Draco nodded, "You managed to hold my interest for two whole hours straight whilst teaching me about the internal organs of the human body, so yes even if it's a tedious day for you I am sure it would interest me greatly."

Harry nodded and drained the rest of his flute and let out a breathy sigh into the tepid night air. "Very well then, Draco, I shall write to you but you must promise to tell me if I do bore you so that I can find something in my day that may interest you. Does that sound like a fair compromise?"

Draco shook his head with a smile, "Oh, Mister Potter, I should tell you that I never lower myself to making compromises," he stated and then bit his tongue when he saw the downward turn of Harry's smile, "But," he continued in a light tone, "I am more than willing to say you've convinced me to thinking that there may be something to it. So yes, it does sound fair to me."

"Not to lowly for you?" Harry quipped a little tightly.

Draco shook his head, "Not at all, Harry. You are passionate and intriguing, two very important things that I need in my life," he looked down at the brunette, "I think you would be good for me."

Those words continued to ring in Harry's ears later that night as he settled down to sleep for the final night in their own hotel. Starting the following morning he would take on a workload of intensive training and studying in order to prepare for his upcoming exams. He just didn't realise how big a part Draco and his letters would play in keeping his sanity as well as getting him out of the stifling hospital a few times a month.

~0~

Over the coming months Harry noticed that he was getting premature silvery threads throughout his black hair and it worried him even further when he realised just how unbelievably stressed that he was becoming, and it was only the end of April. He still had two full months of studying before his exams. He needn't be so worried and yet he couldn't convince his mind to shut down and relax each night before he went to sleep. The only things that had been breaking his studying up throughout the last two weeks were the letters he had received from Draco throughout their mutual correspondence. It was harder to bicker through letters so Harry felt that they had a stroke of luck in this means of communication. Anything else and he would have feared that his friendship with Draco would have hit a wrong note and been terminated before it had even properly begun. Alas, that was not the case.

It was on one of those long days where he was observing some new spells that made it easier and safer to dissect body parts without any excess blood spurting out all over their robes that Harry received another letter from Draco. He smiled as he recognised the intricate scrawl on the front of the envelope. He never ceased to marvel at how beautiful his name looked written in Draco's hand. He flipped it over as he went over to sit in the hard backed chair at his small wooden desk and turned the oil lamp up a little bit more so that he could read in the gloom of the twilight. He felt his smile fall a little as he read Draco's latest reply.

Dear Harry,

I was so glad I got your last letter especially as it caught me just as my health took a little turn for the worst. I'm not entirely sure it is wise for you to come and see me next week. It's merely a cold and father had requested some pepper-up potions from Severus but I would rather not open you to the risk of getting ill. I warn you it's not entirely pleasant, I'm surprised that I'm able to sit up and write to you right now so you should consider yourself very lucky.

On a brighter note, this also means that Mother won't be escorting me around France looking for some broad to marry me off to someone, although I do hate to disappoint her in not being able to carry on the family name. I shouldn't be feeling relieved and yet I still do. Does that make me a bad person? I should hope not, because I really have been enjoying talking to you and getting to know one another. You're a good person so I'm going to try and be a good person for you.

I hope that this letter finds you well and that you're not stressing too much over your exams. You're going to succeed I am sure about it.

Yours faithfully,

Draco.

Harry let the letter droop in his hand and he ran his fingers over his face. Draco had taken ill again? That was three times in the last two months, no one should be getting that ill that often without someone finding the proper cause for it. He pursed his lips tightly. He needed to do a little extra research, he was sure he had missed something in Draco's personal file that Severus had allowed his to study for his presentation. He wanted to be able to help Draco, even if he had to create a potion from scratch for that very purpose. Judging from the symptoms that Draco had written about in previous problems he was sure that there was a stronger potion and an additional salve that could be used to bring Draco's fever down and to help clear the air that got into his lungs. He just needed another month to brew it, which would eat a significant amount of hi studying time. However, he mentally concluded as he stared off out of his window, if he were to use Draco's illnesses as a means of passing his exams, the studying would simply go hand in hand with the potion. First off he would take one of the potions to Draco and access his responses and then alter the potion accordingly if it did not work.

With his mind made up he stood up and performed his nightly rituals before tugged his nightshirt on over his head and climbing into the rickety bed and pulling the sheets up to his chest. Draco's letter rested on his bedside table where he kept the rest of them, stacked neatly together and tied together with a silvery hair ribbon that he'd found in the old dress robes Draco had insisted he keep as a gift. The next morning he would go to Severus and ask for the rest of the week off and explain everything to him. No doubt he would already know that Draco had taken ill, but regardless he was going to explain everything including what he intended to do as the personal assignment for the exams. He just hoped that any potions he created wouldn't discredit his research should it fail.

Suffice to say that Severus was not happy about this abruptly change of plans on such short notice was a gross understatement. He did already know of Draco's illness but his anger was somewhat placated when Harry explained to him the personal assignment and that if he started it now than it should be ready to publish, success of fail, in the medical journals straight after the exams were marked and returned. The greasy-haired man leaned back in his chair in his office and hummed low in his throat. "I can't say that I am happy about this change in plan, Harry," Severus stated in a bland voice, "However, I suppose it would add credit to your final marks and it would give Ronald and Dennis the chance to step up and actually do some work here instead of hoping you will do it all. Yes, I did notice," he added with a frown down at his protégée, before sighing and inclining his head, "As long as Lucius is alright with you staying there for a few days longer you may have the rest of the week off but be back to work first thing on Monday morning, do you understand?"

Harry nodded so hard that Severus feared that his head would fall off his shoulders. "Would it be possible to send him a telegram straight away? I know there may not be a response until tomorrow evening, but as it's Tuesday morning I can easily get started on preparing any potions I can take for the rest of the week."

"Of course I shall. Now go off and get as much work as you can do before tomorrow evening, alright?"

Harry nodded, "You have no idea how much I appreciate this Professor, this is such an amazing chance for me!"

"I know Mister Potter but don't forget that it may be difficult for you. You cannot have such a friendship with your patients as it could easily impair your judgement. Remember what happened to that elderly man last month who died? You took that fairly hard. You didn't eat for most of the following week. I don't want to see you waste away and suffer like that again."

Harry felt something stir painfully in his chest. He didn't want to think about poor old Arthur who hadn't made it, no matter what he had tried to do. It was hard not to become friends with the elderly red-haired man. He was ever so charming, always prattling about how fascinating the muggles were. Harry had enjoyed taking care of him until that ground breaking morning when he had gone in and found a nurse stripping down Arthur's bed and vanishing the dirty sheets with a lazy flick of her wand before casting another spell to have clean sheets and pillowcases onto the bed, ready for the new patient. It had hurt as he'd watched the nurse carry on about her day as though Arthur had never existed. He shouldn't have let it affect him so much, especially when he dealt with dead peoples bodies every day, so why did Arthur make him suffer so greatly? Maybe it was because despite being old and frail and suffering from something that had turned out to be incurable, he had taken every day with a pinch of salt, enjoyed everything around him and never ceased to find something wonderful to tell Harry about, even if it was simply how wonderful the porridge had been that morning.

He shook his head suddenly aware that he had been standing in Snape's doorway and was staring over at him with his dark features drawn into a frown. He cleared his throat and looked Snape dead in the eye, "Don't worry, Professor. I have learned my lesson from Arthur Weasley and I can assure you that my friendship with Draco Malfoy will not affect how I treat him as a patient."

Severus inclined his head, "See that it doesn't Harry. You're a smart boy and I'd hate to see you suffer like that again. Especially if you can help it. Now go, you have a lot of work to do this morning," he stated as he waved Harry off, dismissing him as he returned his attention to the work splayed across his desk.

For his part Harry tried to keep himself as busy as possible, his heart racing at the most menial of tasks and earning peculiar glances from Ronald and Dennis as he raced through each of the wards appointing new medicines and salves for severe curse burns and helping to ease some of the rambling patients in the spell-damage ward to quieten down and wash them manually. Some of the nurses tended to be lazy and scourgify them, but Harry found that that left them irritable and the skin became raw and red, almost like a rash. Harry didn't mind doing a few things manually. It was just the way that some people forgot that some hands-on things would work wonders if they were to lose their wands, which happened more often than not.

By the end of the day, leaning over a bubbling cauldron, he felt exhausted but there was a small encouraging voice in the back of his mind telling him that it was worth it. He could be on the verge of a medical breakthrough for the wizarding community, and if he were Draco would be a part of that discovery. He couldn't deny he was excited about it. As the night wore on and the deadline for the potion was drawing to a close, he couldn't help but let Severus' words echo in his head. He was going to be professional when it came to Draco's health but at the same time he was a friend now and that meant doing whatever it could take to ensure that your friend got as good medical attention as possible. And if he was the one to do that then so be it. It just meant that he knew the job would be done well. As soon as the potion had brewed, he lifted it off the burner to cool and cleared away his appliances before ladling the contents of the cauldron into several phials for Severus' stock and a few for him to take in his trunk to the Manor.

When he got back to his room later that night, the steep staircases making his legs ache even more than they had earlier, he went about packing his trunk with the few potions he had researched and found in storage, including the one he had brewed after hours, and piled a few medical journals inside to read if Draco was feeling too weak and needed some company, as well as a new bound journal of his own to start recording his findings and research. He hadn't added everything he'd already researched as yet, because he wanted to cast some diagnosis spells on Draco's chest to see if he was able to detect the areas of pain and compare it to the diagnosis chart he had copied down during his lunch break. Kneeling back on his haunches he felt satisfied that he had everything and then settled down to sleep.

A/N: Yes, that is where Part 1 ends, but I had to cut it off otherwise it would be 17K long which is a lot to read in one go.