Harry woke slowly with the worst headache he could remember since killing the Dark Lord. No hangover, not even his seventeenth birthday celebrations courtesy of the Twins smuggling in firewhiskey, could compare to the pounding in his head, or the needles in his eyes as morning light stabbed at him mercilessly.

"Drink this," a very stern voice said, and he knew he was in trouble.

When Poppy used that tone, she was very upset, but he had no brain power to dwell on it as gentle hands lifted his head and helped him drink some foul-smelling concoction. It might have smelt and tasted terrible, but the moment it hit his stomach Harry felt some relief.

"Dragon's Breath Angel Trumpets, Mr Potter!" Poppy scolded as he finally took a look around. "What were you thinking?"

She was holding the test tube with the other stamen. Harry felt suddenly very ashamed, but he clawed onto all his courage to meet his healer's eyes. Something had shifted in him last night, and he felt the new spirit burning within him, but first he had to face up to what he had done.

"I wasn't thinking," he admitted quietly, knowing that he had been an idiot, "I just wanted the pain to go away."

Poppy looked shocked and then very worried. She sat down on the edge of his bed, something she never did except in the most unusual circumstances.

"Harry," she said quietly, placing a hand over his, "were you trying to kill yourself?"

"Oh no," he promised quickly, seeing the anguish in her eyes, "I jumped off the Astronomy tower, but I didn't want to die."

"The Astronomy tower?" Poppy sounded shocked. "Oh, good god, we thought you had just been flying under the influence."

She looked so upset that Harry pulled himself into a sitting position and reach out a hand onto her shoulder. His head pounded some more for his trouble, but Poppy was far more important than his comfort.

"I didn't mean to," he told her earnestly, "it just sort of happened. Flying is the only thing that makes me forget; I didn't mean to hurt myself."

"Oh Harry," Poppy said and dragged him into a hug, "why?"

The lump that appeared in Harry's throat from seemingly nowhere was mightily hard to talk around and he found himself swallowing several times before he could reply.

"I thought he didn't care at all," he said quietly, "that he didn't feel anything, but he does, Poppy, he does. He came for me. All I have to do is make him see."

For a while Poppy did not reply, but her hug tightened slightly.

"Oh, my dear child," she said as she held him close, "I hope you are right."

~*~

If anyone in Gryffindor noticed the sudden change in Harry they did not comment, but he doubted they had missed it. He had taken Ron and Hermione aside and explained everything that he was able to about what had happened and told them that he wanted to try and at least be friends with Draco. He could not tell them exactly why and he had no idea how he was going to do this since Draco had gone back to ignoring him, but Harry knew now that Draco was hiding what he was really feeling.

The true complexities of what he felt for Draco were confusing and he could not explain them to himself, let alone anyone else, but he told his friends a little of it. They were still unaware how deep his feelings were and where he saw them going, but Ron and Hermione now understood some of it.

Since he had admitted to taking what was for Seraphim a controlled substance and jumping off the Astronomy Tower, Hermione and Ron had barely let him out of their sight. He was sure Hermione had a charmed watch on him at mealtimes since he had also confessed his not eating, and at one time he might have resented it, but now he figured he deserved it. He only eventually complained when Ron formed a habit of following him to the loo.

The last Wednesday of term was Gryffindor's second match of the Quidditch season, and as luck would have it, they were facing Slytherin. For once Harry did not dread going up against Draco; he relished it.

The day dawned bright and clear and from the moment he climbed out of bed, Harry was almost buzzing with excited anticipation. Over the few days since his brush with a drugged-out haze, Harry's display instincts had come back. They were nowhere near as strong as before, but his mate was not playing the game properly and he felt as if he needed to prove himself to Draco somehow.

His marks, which had sunk the previous week, were back to top form, and he had been flying like his life depended on it in the last couple of practices. He was determined to impress Draco, no matter what it took.

The game started as usual and Harry hovered over the pitch, keeping himself in Draco's eye-line. The Slytherin Seeker was obviously still trying to ignore him, but unless Draco wanted to lose the game because of not paying attention, he had no choice but to look.

Harry took to weaving across the sky, doing little test dives and simply showing off his turning skills. His eyes were darting all over the pitch for the Snitch, but he knew where Draco was at all times as well.

When the Snitch finally showed itself, it was up by the Slytherin goal and Harry set off as if he was being chased by a dragon. Draco was after him in a second and Harry had to hold back his shout of delight at the thrill of the chase. Flying he was free, and his wing nubs twitched, wanting to be part of this, but he held the Seraphim in check. He would display for Draco, but he would not use his alternate nature directly.

He let Draco catch up until they were broom to broom and then Harry surged into a roll to bring himself up and under the goal. He barely missed a bludger as it powered towards him from one of the Slytherin beaters, but an inch was as good as a mile when it came to Quidditch. Then he was almost on it; the snitch was in front of him, but so was Draco, coming from the side. They almost collided, pulling up at the last moment, losing the Snitch but both moving fast back into the sky.

Harry could not help himself as he grinned at Draco, the excitement of the game and the excitement of pursuing his mate mixing in his blood to make him feel completely alive. Draco appeared perturbed for a moment and then as they levelled out once more, inclined his head. It seemed they understood each other, at least partially.

The Snitch kept itself hidden for another half an hour, over which time both teams scored several times, and Goyle was almost sent off for fouling Harry. If Harry had not been so fast the bat would have hit him, but he rather enjoyed the vaguely impressed look that passed over Draco's face just after the incident, so he was not too fazed.

The small golden ball was fluttering near to the ground in the middle of the pitch when Harry saw it again and he did not hesitate. Without thinking he dropped towards it like a giant bird on its prey. He was strong, he was worthy, he had to win to prove his worth to his mate, and his world narrowed to the Snitch. There was a collective gasp from the crowd as he plummeted towards his prize and it never even occurred to him that if he did this wrong, he could end up seriously hurt.

For the first time in the game he lost track of Draco, but he knew all eyes would be on him. It was almost as if he had startled the Snitch, like a hawk coming out of the sun and the little ball had frozen in fright. It never even moved as he reached out and grabbed it before swooping along the ground with millimetres to spare.

The Gryffindor stands went crazy and Harry looked up, holding the Snitch aloft, to find that Draco was only a few feet away from him. There was a vaguely confused look of shock on the Slytherin's face, and an almost completely hidden admiration in Draco's eyes. Harry knew he had done what he set out to do and he was pretty sure Draco had received the message. He did not try and stop the wide smile he showed the crowd.