Boy Who Never Grew Up

Your Mother And Mine

Draco threw on some muggle clothes Harry had of skinny jeans and a loose shirt (a bit too short for him, but definitely loose, because Harry had a much bigger build than himself).

Remembering the way he went before, Draco gracefully went down the steps to the bottom floor below the ground, seeing Blaise and Pansy animatedly chatting over a book with golden cursive writing on the front and a drawing of a fairy (or what Draco believed to be a fairy). Delicate, cursive writing swerved to curve every letter till the perfect swishing shapes were formed. The writing was even fancier than his own, which Draco did not believe to be possible until now.

He cleared his throat, laughing when Blaise fell off his chair from shock. "It's not funny Draco! These stone floors really bloody hurt!" He gently massaged his wrists because that's how he caught himself when he fell.

Draco looked at the kitchen, which he was surprised to find was quite clean. But he didn't want to go into their cupboards, or use the fireplace that had a kettle over the top. Thankfully, Pansy made him a drink herself and waved him over.

Sitting next to her, Draco saw the writing inside the book and knew it wasn't done by an author, but by someone possibly on the island or originally on the island. It was done on thick, scratchy parchment, with what looked like a recently added cover.

"What are you two reading about then?" Asked Draco, sipping on the tea without milk and it tasted minty: Draco found that he quite enjoyed it.

"I found it in Hermione's room." Pansy flicked through the pages, sandwiched between her two best friends, "It's got fairy stuff in it, and listen." Her finger landed on a line and she started smoothing the pad across it as she read it out, "Every time a person says 'I don't believe in faries' a fairy dies, turning into a black orb, sucking happiness from Neverland. Over the years, the number of faries is decreasing, and dementors are rising.

A Dementor is a black orb that turns half human, sucking on the victims soul through something called the 'Dementor kiss' from a person.

The only way to stop this is using a spell called 'Expecto Patronum' that only people with Pixie Dust can perform. The way this spell is cast is thinking of someone's most emotional memory: this can be assumed to mean happy, however, it does not matter the emotion behind the memory, it only has to be powerful enough."

"Where'd she get the book from?" Draco asked, slipping it over so he could scan the lines closer.

Blaise moved to sit opposite the two, turning the chair around so he sat with his arms rested on the back, "She didn't get it, she wrote it, Dean illustrated it. It says at the back of the book." Draco stared wide-eyed wondering how she did it with ink and parchments. Let alone how Dean drew the images without a pencil and a rubber.

0o0

"Where are they?" Exclaimed Harry, flying to the Black Lake holding Ron and Hermione up as they went. As the Black Lake came into view, Harry heard the shriek of a mermaid, then they all dived under the water.

Riddle knows something. Harry thought, his face turning to stone at the thought of that monster hurting a person he cares about. He dropped the two off at the bank of the glittering soul-sucking water, only that colour because of the Giant Squid that lives at the bottom.

He hovered in the air, the same level as the Black orb. In his mind, Harry pictured the sound of his mother's scream as she was murdered. No, it was not a happy memory, but it was the strongest he had.

He focused his hands into a sphere, holding them close to his chest with his eyes closed. The moment he felt the top of the stag's head, he curved his hand until they were both flat, palm facing up and the stag went off. There were so many of them it was like a sea of swishing dark colours. Like when you put the tip of a used black paint brush in water for it to swirl outward.