A/N: Yes, a miracle has just occurred. I haven't updated this fanfic in almost 6 years. 6! The last time I worked on this chapter was in March 2014, nearly 5 years back! Well, I for sure lost the challenge of writing 20 chapters in 1 year *laughs. But I'll try to stick to the 20 chapters at least. Besides, maybe it's for the best I let the fanfic sit for a moment, so my writing abilities could strengthen. I just didn't figure time would go by so fast. Anyway, without any further ado, here's the new chapter for Secrets!

Hermione nodded, and waved him off. "Go, then. But don't forget to go to Pomfrey tomorrow!"

Harry nodded, and walked up the stairs. It was early, but he was dead tired.

As he drifted off to sleep, his dreams were empty. And somehow that scared him more than the nightmare he had seen the night before.

His face and hands hurt all over. What a lovely way to start a new day. He regretted not going to Madam Pomfrey the previous day. He absentmindedly pulled his wings in, while he sat up, groaning. Scarlet blisters covered both his hands and part of his face. Or at least, it felt that way. He put on some clothes and got out of bed, pushing open the curtains around his bed. The glare of the weak sunlight made Harry grimace as his ever-present headache reared its head again, while he pushed away from his bed, his hands protesting at the action. He walked down into the Common Room and spotted Hermione. Falling down in a chair, he greeted her.

Hermione covered a yawn, before wishing Harry a good morning herself. Noticing the ugly shade of red, she frowned. "You'll be going to Pomfrey today, won't you?"

Harry nodded. "Of course I will. I don't think I'll be wandering around with blisters all over my hands and face. I just thought I'd let you know where I was going to. Common courtesy and all that."

She grinned and told him to get out of there. He stood up and saluted her wryly, while looking out of the window longingly. The weather was really nice. Nice enough to go flying. But the Quidditch teams would be out flying today, so his changes of taking a leisure flight through the air were dashed. But a tiny voice in the back of his head piped up, 'so what? You have and Invisibility Cloak! You might as well use it.' Deciding to ignore the voice for now, he set out to go to the Infirmary. Knocking on the door, he entered the one room he was most familiar with, though not through any of his choosing. Madam Pomfrey was fluffing up some pillows absentmindedly, and didn't seem to hear Harry entering. The teen cleared his throat, to announce his entrance, and the witch looked up. Clucking her tongue, she walked briskly up to him.

Harry grinned sheepishly when she stood before him, her hands on her hips, with a dismayed expression on her face. "Erm, I had an accident with a potion yesterday."

"Obviously," she said, while shaking her head. "Well, come with me, Mr Potter. What was the potion you attempted to brew?" she inquired.

"A Forgetfulness Potion. It went awry in the last stage."

She turned to him, a frown on her face. "And no signs of forgetfulness? None at all?"

Harry thought back on it, before he shook his head. "No signs of it at all. I'm pretty sure it didn't affect me at all. Well, except the heat, maybe."

But Pomfrey didn't smile at the botched attempt at humour. She grabbed a phial from her stocking room and handed it to Harry. "Here's a salve. Apply it three times a day. If the blistering doesn't lessen in three days, come back."

Harry took it and grinned. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." He slipped the salve in his robe pocket, before he walked back towards Gryffindor Tower. After saying the password, he stepped into the Common Room. When he greeted Hermione, he took the steps to the dormitory, so he could take a look in the mirror, so he could apply the salve. He grimaced when he spotted his flushed face, but luckily there weren't any blisters, as he had previously thought. The same couldn't be said of his hands, though. Blisters formed here and there, and there was a nasty shade of red spread all over, even under the cuffs. He sighed, but grabbed the phial from his pocket, wincing as he did so. Twisting the cork off, he let some of the thick substance coat his hand. He set the phial aside, and scooped some of the salve up with his right hand, so he could apply it to his face. Strangely enough, it didn't smell bad. In fact, it smelled a bit like orchid and coconut. The salve was a light blue, and when he smeared it on his face, it immediately soothed his burns.

He smeared the remaining salve out over his hands and flexed his fingers experimentally. The burn receded, though the redness and the blisters still stayed. But he didn't figure it would be any different, since healing salves usually took some time to work their way into skin. Harry sighed and pulled a hand through his hair, pulling free a few tangles. He put the cork back on the phial and walked out of the bathroom. Slipping it in his bedside drawer, he walked back to the common room, where Hermione still sat. She looked up as he sat down next to her, a sigh escaping his lips.

Hermione looked up and smiled lightly. She grabbed his chin lightly and moved his head about. "Looking much better."

"Should I be concerned?" A voice asked, and Harry turned around with a grin.

"That would be quite unnecessary. What with having a mate and all," he added in an undertone only his friends could hear. Ron clapped him on the back and searched for his own seat.

"Of course. One is hard-pressed to forget. Anyway, what did you need to inspect him for, 'Mione?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but turned back to her book, muttering, "Harry managed to blow up his potion, thanks to Draco Malfoy."

Ron just stared at her, then at Harry, before he balled his fists, a frown covering his face. "I knew the Ferret was up to something. What did he do to make your potion blow up?"

Harry's eye twitched. "Do not insult him, Ron. He doesn't deserve that. Besides, it was my fault for messing up the potion. I would've liked it if he told me what would happen, but I guess you truly learn from your mistakes. Especially if they result in blisters and pain. Besides, I asked him to teach me Potions, so I guess he is not obliged to humour me as his student."

Ron shrugged, before falling down in a seat. "Anyway, it's way too early to deal with the likings of Malfoy. Though why you're as keen on not insulting him, I wouldn't know." He rubbed his eyes and yawned, looking at the both of them, before his eyes settled on Hermione and softened. "'Mione, how about you settle that book down. It's too early even for you to read."

She glared at him, before pompously turning another page. "It's not a regular book. It's a book for costumes. For the Halloween party."

Both Ron and Harry looked at her with baffled expressions.

"Honestly!" she huffed, putting the book down with a roll of her eyes. "It's on the notice board. Every student of age is allowed to attend the Halloween Party, which will be organised that day. Don't you two ever look at the notice board?"

Harry mumbled something about not having a reason, now that he was out of the Quidditch team, while Ron muttered something about only looking for the Quidditch notices, his cheeks tinged red.

Hermione huffed, standing up with her nose pointed in the air. "I'll be off to the library. You two figure out whether or not you'd like to come. But you better hurry, it's in two weeks' time." And with those parting words she walked through the portrait hole and on to the library.

Ron's eyebrows had disappeared in his hairline. "Merlin, she's still mental. 'But you better hurry, it's in two weeks' time,'" he mocked, his voice high pitched and filled with scorn. "Honestly. I'm getting rather worried she's not starting about N.E. yet. No, instead it's all about the Halloween Party, apparently. How was I supposed to know that?"

Harry didn't answer the question, since it sounded more rhetorical than anything.

"And what about you?" Ron asked, an octave higher than usual. "Are you going or not?"

And suddenly, at that moment, he knew he would. He even knew his entire outfit, his entire assemble. It would be risky and tricky, but at that moment he was entirely sure. Besides, it would be Halloween. No-one would look askance at him when he'd be surrounded by two large, white wings. It would be perfect, Harry knew. Perfect and exciting. "Yes, I'll definitely be going."

And that was that.

A day later, after dinner, Harry walked to the Potions classroom, a bit apprehensive but also full of energy. Even though the disaster of the day before yesterday was still branded in his mind — he still had the burns to show for it — he was determined to pull this through, to get through his Potions class without resorting to Hermione. This would be his own little accomplishment, one which wasn't built from his fame or sheer luck. Somehow, that thought was liberating. This time he had made sure he wasn't late, to soothe Malfoy's insecurities. But really, couldn't the other teen have foreseen him being late? Besides, they hadn't even settled on a time, just "after dinner".

Sighing, he walked into the classroom, which seemed to be abandoned. Just as he put his bag down, Malfoy appeared around the corner of the storage room, giving Harry a fright. Malfoy just nodded at him, clutching several phials and flasks. He settled them down on the table Harry was sitting on, before dumping a cauldron on the table. "I hope you came prepared today. I don't want a repetition of the day before yesterday. Today, I will step in where necessary, but keep in mind I will mostly be observing. The instructions are already on the board. You can begin anytime you'd like."

This time, Harry would show him what he was made of. He would display his newly gained knowledge of how to handle potions. Making sure he took his time, he prepared all the ingredients in order of use, weighing and cutting as instructed on the board. Carefully arranging them on his cutting board, he took longer than usual reading the instructions. Occasionally glancing sideways, he encountered the icy grey eyes, carefully observing his every move calculatingly. He wondered why the blond was willing to help him out. It seemed certainly more likely for him to have rejected Harry, as opposed to him grudgingly but willingly teaching him.

Turning his full attention on the cauldron and ingredients before him, he let out a breath, before putting the cauldron over the fire. It would be fine this time. Bustling about the cauldron, he occasionally walked back to the board, crossing the steps off one by one. As Malfoy had said before, if only he were more organised. Now that he actually put thought and effort into being meticulous, it seemed to pay off. Somehow, Potions always seemed to remind him of cooking, treating it as such. Cooking to him had been about speed, pressure and surviving. Therefore, he started treating Potions the same way. Finally it dawned on him where he had been wrong in handling Potions. It wasn't like the cooking he got used to. It was more of an art, freer and more precise than anything.

As this realisation dawned, his hand slipped and the ladle that was grasped in his hand fell to the ground. Face paling, he stared in horror as the potion started gurgling strangely. Stepping away and shielding his eyes, he waited for the inevitable disaster to occur. However, no such thing happened. No explosion, no hot, slimy goo clinging to his person, no weird smell, nothing. Opening his eyes, he saw Malfoy in front of the cauldron, calmly stirring the potion with a spoon. He glanced sideways, meeting Harry's green ones. "Do not get distracted by unnecessary thoughts. Even if something goes wrong, there are still ways to correct it. Don't forget that."

Heaving a sigh of relief, Harry breathed his thanks, before taking over again. However, Malfoy didn't move back to his table, instead opting to stand near Harry, observing. Unnerved, Harry glanced at him, wondering why that was so. Before he could voice his concerns, the blond spoke up before him, startling him into silence.

"Why did you quit Quidditch?"

Going rigid, Harry gripped the spoon tightly, his knuckles turning white. His mood soured, and he wondered if Malfoy wanted him to unintentionally muck up his potion. Forcibly relaxing his muscles, he continued stirring the potion, adding some more ingredients. "I didn't, really. There were just some circumstances which were unavoidable, disabling me from continuing. It's better to focus on classes as well, I recon…" Trailing off, he ended the sentence with something he himself didn't quite believe in. "Why ask?"

Malfoy shrugged, peering into the cauldron, eyes squinting together. "Stir a bit harder. That ought to do it. And no reason in particular. There's been many rumours as to why you weren't on this year's team. I thought I might as well ask the reason."

Face darkening, Harry scowled, stirring furiously. "It's none of your business, Malfoy. I'm not going around asking you why you quit the team, am I? There are some things better left unasked…"

"Well, excuse me very much for making you uncomfortable for once… I didn't ask you to meddle into my affairs either, Potter. Yet somehow you think you have every right to, because you're the "hero", is it? If you leave me alone and don't meddle in my affairs, I'll do the same. I'll have to remind you that I tried to keep my distance this year. You were the one who approached me, not the other way around."

Still stirring furiously, Harry knitted his brows. Logically, he knew where he was coming from. However, what with him inheriting, the situation had changed. Questions needed to be asked, or else he would be in hot water from now on. His constant headache seemed quite indicative of what would happen if he were to slack off in his search for his mate. Realising he should stop stirring, he pulled out the spoon and laid it back on the cutting board, fixing Malfoy with a strong stare.

"Malfoy, I do realise that it might be considered quite hypocritical, and maybe it is, but maybe, just maybe, I'm doing it because I'm concerned about you. There is no need to be defensive around me, honestly. I genuinely want to learn to properly make potions, get my N.E.W.T.s and finish this year without too much drama. There is nothing, absolutely nothing more I'd like than to live my life quietly. I never wished for anything but that."

Glancing away, Malfoy crossed his arms, an awkward silence growing between them.

Turning back to his potion, he added the final ingredient, before turning down the heat and putting a lid on the cauldron. Sighing, he decided he should break the silence, as the quiet was pressing down on him. "Anyway, have you decided whether or not you're going to the Halloween party? Apparently it's going to be held for those of age."

Mouth opening and closing, Malfoy stood there, flabbergasted, not knowing how to handle that question that seemed to come out of nowhere. Looking wary, he glanced back at Harry, brows knitting together. "No, I will not be going. There is no reason for me to go."

"Really? I was thinking of going, myself. I haven't found anyone to go with, though. Although you don't really need a partner, as it's not a Yule Ball event."

Still crossing his arms, Malfoy cocked his head to the side, wondering where on earth Potter was going with his story. Because he sure as hell had no reason nor motivation to be going to a silly event like that, wasting his time while everyone avoided him.

Harry continued as the silence started to become deafening. "Well, as you're not going, I thought it might be nice to meet up in this room again before the festivities are over, as no-one will be in need of this classroom. Furthermore, it will be held right around dinnertime, so it would fit the timeframe we currently have for the remedial classes, no? I just wanted to know whether or not you would attend and whether or not we would meet up on that day as well."

Still frowning slightly, he shrugged his shoulders. "That's fine. Is there a specific time you'd like to meet, assuming you will attend the party?"

Nodding, Harry thought about it, inwardly thrilled. "How about around eight in the evening? Maybe it'd be best to not focus on a large potion, or focus on a potion made before that only needs little attention." Finishing the sentence, he plucked the lid off the cauldron, peering into its depths. Stirring twice, the potion was done, this time without any problems, it seemed. "Well, does it get your seal of approval?"

Leaning over, Malfoy peered into the cauldron himself, judging the colour and consistency. "It would've been better if you hadn't made that mistake. But it still passes. Great job, Potter, you didn't manage to melt the cauldron or make it explode this time." Drawling, Malfoy grabbed several phials to put the potion into. After he finished, he turned back to the dark-haired teen. "After eight on Halloween should be fine, I think. I'll ask the professor to leave the room open to us around that time. Well, then, let's meet once more before Halloween. I'll try and find a potion you're able to brew and takes a bit longer to make. So let's say, next week Thursday? You'll have opportunities in class to improve on brewing as well."

Nodding, Harry leaned back, making a mental note of their next meeting. Cleaning the used instruments and putting back the ingredients, they walked out the classroom, door clicking shut behind them. "Thanks for today, Malfoy. I'll see you later in class." With a short nod, Harry headed back to the dormitory, steps light. Having never spoken to Malfoy for an extended period of time, he didn't figure they could maintain it and be civil at the same time. Then again, neither of them were the people they had been before.

Walking through the portrait, Harry greeted Ron and Hermione. Taking a seat, he grabbed his assignments, cringing slightly as he saw how little time he had left. Oftentimes gazing into the hearth, he finished his assignments after a long while. Stretching, he slumped back into the sofa, looking at his friends next to him. Ron seemed to be in a writing frenzy, having started too late. Hermione was next to him, clicking her tongue in annoyance every once and while. Standing up, Harry excused himself, before turning in for the night. Performing his regular charms, he rolled unto his stomach and let his wings break free. Groaning in relief, he rotated them slightly, before sinking into his mattress, eyes falling shut.

The streets he was walking on had no streetlights, yet he saw clearly, as the stars shone brightly above his head, along with the moon. It was night, and a lazy, slow breeze gathered around his feet, blowing away some stray leaves. He walked on, not sure exactly where he was going, just that he had to go where his feet led him. With every step he took, however, the lights dimmed and the air grew colder. The wind had stopped blowing, and only the cold seemed to be pressed around him. Shivering, he ploughed onwards, not intend on stopping.

The moon had completely vanished from the sky, only the stars in the heavens illuminating his path. However, even they flickered out of life one after the other. Still carrying on, Harry wrapped his arms around him, rubbing them with his hands to generate some warmth. Teeth chattering, he persevered, his gut feeling guiding him. This time, he knew what he would find at the end of this road. The amount of illumination lighting the way became dimmer and dimmer as he walked on, until even the final star in the sky disappeared.

Only complete darkness and silence remained, making it seem as if he was wandering a black road with nothing surrounding it. There was no time, no space, no light, nothing. It was complete, irrevocable darkness and icy coldness.

At last the tug on his abdomen lightened up, and he knew he was close. Not wanting to accidentally hurt his mate, he got onto his hands and knees, crawling around to search for him. The darkness was frustrating, and not knowing how far removed he was from him doubled his anxiety and frustration. Scrapes and scratches emerged all over his hands and knees as the hard concrete bit into his skin, yet he continued on.

At last, not his hands, but his ears picked up on something. Laboured breathing and chattering teeth drew him to the left, where surely a body was waiting. Forgetting all about the cold and the pain, he slowly shuffled to the sound, his hands searching, patting the ground gently as he crawled forward.

Finally, his hand landed on something soft, and his heart skipped a beat as he noticed the temperature of his mate before him. Using his other hand, he tried to assess the position his mate was in, patting around until he was right behind him. Sitting him into an upright position, he drew his arms around the figure, wings following in its wake. The back pressed up against his chest was way too cold, and for one painful moment, he thought he had lost him to the persevering cold. However, a hand gently curled on his forearm, enticing him in. Leaning in to put his head on his mate's shoulder, he nuzzled the soft flesh and cooed, his cheek brushing against the blond's shoulder.

The sounds of heavy breathing and clattering of teeth seemed to ebb away slowly, and Harry rearranged himself so his legs were spread behind his mate, their legs touching. His hands ran up and down his mate's arms, trying to warm them back up, before circling around to rest at his abdomen, fingers interlocked. He nuzzled his mate's head back to the other side, warming up the other side. The scent of his mate seemed to entice him, and he kept rubbing the slender neck and side of the face with his cheek, as if intend on marking him.

There was no need for words. In fact, simply having the other boy in his arms seemed to be the only thing he needed to keep on living. His heart was at ease, and if it weren't for the darkness and cold, Harry wouldn't have minded staying there forever.

As he opened his eyes, however, he noticed a light in the distance. Squinting at the light, it seemed to be getting brighter, expanding in form. Shielding both himself and his mate from the light with his wings, he clung unto his wish of being with him for just a moment longer.

For just a moment longer…

Harry bolted upright, heart pounding in his chest. Looking around himself, he searched for the figure which had fitted so perfectly in his arms. Realising he had been dreaming, he slumped forward, head in his hands as his heart constricted. Reaching down to grab at his heart with his right hand, he refused to let the tears gathering in his eyes fall.

He wondered how many of these horrid dreams bordering on nightmares were going to occur, and for how long they would continue. The loneliness after realising his mate was not right beside him was tearing up his heart, and there was nothing he could do but wait until he had confirmed the whereabouts of his mate, wherever and whoever they might be.

Falling back into the covers, Harry did not find sleep for many, many hours.

A/N: I for sure hope the next chapter won't take nearly 6 years to publish! However, I'm not quite sure what my life has in store for me after I come back from Japan next month... I just know I'll try my hardest to work on my other stories (yes, maybe even those that have been waiting longer than this one as well!) so most of them can finally find some closure!