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Chapter Text

(1) Storms

And just like that, it was all over. But for a moment the castle seemed to run out of magic. The Great Hall had become a funeral parlour, and there was no feast to welcome anyone back home. Instead, there was darkness. And tears. And smoke. Dawn broke through the shattered windows, and those who had the stomach, brought the bodies in from outside. Harry and his friends sat huddled with the Weasleys, in mourning. Around them, Harry heard soft-spoken incantations– it was the same one– over and over again, under the glow of the raised wands. 

…pacem invenire in Mortem…

…pacem invenire in Mortem…

…pacem invenire in Mortem…

“What spell is that?” Harry asked, to no one in particular. 

“It’s an old tradition…like a blessing…of sorts…” Ron replied, “It means… ‘may you find peace in death’. It’s an incantation meant to help guide souls to the afterlife…” 

“Oh…” 

Harry turned to face the fallen in the halls, and quietly mouthed the incantation along with the cacophony of hushed voices, before trailing off when the words became a strained lump in his throat. 

“Harry…look…” Hermione’s voice on his other side was a low whisper as she indicated something ahead. Harry followed her gaze, followed the indicative gesture. Across the hall, he caught sight of Draco Malfoy tucked away in the corner with his head downcast, evading confrontation. Harry took one step towards  Draco- but was stopped in his tracks when the double doors to the hall swung open again. 

Kingsley Shacklebolt and one other that he had forgotten the names of entered the double doors, carrying the still, dark clothed hump of Severus Snape into the Great Hall. As they passed them, Harry swore he saw Snape’s fingers twitch. 

“He’s got bandages on his neck.” Hermione whispered. 

“Why the bloody ‘ell would they bandage him– I mean he’s…he…we all watched him…pass away…so how can he possibly be–”  

Harry was trailing after them before anyone could stop him. 

“Excuse me–Kingsley. Kingsley–” 

“Ahh, Mr. Potter. The Boy who Saved the World–” 

“What’s going on with Professor Snape?”

“The traitor…somehow survived despite what should have been a lethal wound. He was also poisoned by venom…so I don’t know how he managed to live.”  He and the other auror lowered him on an available cot. As soon as he was positioned, a soft, pained groan and a slow breath informed Harry that former Professor Snape was indeed still alive. They folded his hands over chest, and as soon as he was positioned, Shacklebolt drew his wand and casted a spell. With a bright glow and a rattle of chains, shackles appeared on Snape’s wrists. 

“Gravely injured or not, he is a death eater, so these binds are to ensure the safety of everyone around.”

Harry did not react, instead he just looked down at the man whom he had so loathed up until now. He was pallor and even more sallowy than usual– he looked sickly, ghastly, actually, but the slow rise and fall of his chest once more indicated that he was alive. 

How did he survive? I don’t understand. Hermione, Ron, and I…we all saw him die. 

Snape moved slightly. His eyes cracked open…just barely. Just enough to see the vague shape of the young man beside him. 

“Potter?” his voice came out a weak hiss. Harry knelt down on the cold stone floor beside him and met his gaze, dared touch his sleeve to indicate he was there. “...You’re alive…good…” Snape breathed. Harry swore he saw a weak partial smile tugging the edge of the man’s tight-lined lip.

“Umm…” Harry didn’t know what he was supposed to say to him. 

“…however…” Snape rasped, voice quiet, strained, weak, “You are…quite possibly…the very last person…I want to see right now…”

Harry’s expression sharpened, but he didn’t have the heart to be fully angry with Snape for his snide remark., “Thanks, Professor….” he scoffed in a sarcastic response, “Good to see you too…” bloody prick… But Snape had already drifted back into unconsciousness. Harry rolled his eyes, but was quietly amused that Snape still seemed to be his usual self–it was…and though he loathed to admit it, strangely…comforting…an irritatingly familiar sense…of normalcy– mostly…but the tear stains were still there on the man’s face. Harry shook his head, got up and crossed the room towards his friends again. 

He was halfway there when he once again caught the sight of the familiar blond boy with his head down in the corner. He crossed the room towards Draco Malfoy’s side. 

He nearly ran into Luna as she was headed the opposite direction, “Oh– Harry Potter. You’ve come for Draco too? You can try…but he didn’t want to talk to me, so, he might not want to talk to you either. Good luck.” and off she half-limped, half-skipped towards his friends, a little more sluggish and less bouncy than before. 

Harry evened his breath and continued on his way. He stopped at the corner of the table across from him. 

“Hey.” 

Draco jumped a mile out of his seat, but seemed to relax just slightly when he saw who was talking to him..

“Sorry…mind if I join you?”

Draco studied him for a moment, dumbfounded, blinking as he processed what had been said to him. He managed a weak nod. Harry sat down across from him.

“Umm…” What am I even doing here? “How…how are you?” Again, Draco stared at him for several moments without words…and then spoke, turning up his nose.

“How am I? Are you mocking me right now, Potter?” Draco demanded in a hiss so similar to his father’s it triggered a skittering of shivers down the line of Harry’s spine.

“No. I’m not. It’s a legitimate question.” 

“Here’s a legitimate question back– how do you think I am?” Draco exclaimed coldly. 

“Properly rubbish I imagine.” Harry replied, offering a sympathetic smile. 

Draco did not smile back. And instead said, “You’d be right about that, Potter.” 

“Malfoy, look, I just wanna say I…I appreciate what you did out there- throwing me your wand…that was…I mean…” the words faltered in his throat. 

“You…saved my life from that fiendfyre. I was just…repaying a debt. That’s all. And it cost me everything.” Draco choked out the words, averted his gaze.

“And got you your freedom.” 

“What?” 

“I saw…I know you don’t believe it but I know. I could tell you were being…tormented and used…I’m not daft. And I suppose I’m…glad you got out of that.” 

“Why are you saying all this to me, Potter? What do you want from me?”

“...To make sure you’re alright. That’s all.” 

“Well I’m not…as I said– I lost everything. I can never go back home because of what I did. I’ll be disowned, stripped of my family name…pruned from the family tree, I know it…my friends are all gone… my parents will never forgive me…I have…” his voice broke, “I have nothing left…nothing…” 

“…You can stay with me at Grimmauld Place, if you’d like.”

Draco perked up slightly, met Harry’s gaze straight on, “What? Stay with you ?” Draco’s face rushed with heat as a deep pink color returned to his pale cheeks for the first time in months. 

“My godfather left the house to me…and there’s plenty of extra rooms. It’ll just be you and I…and Kreature…and, Ron and Hermione’lll be around, I’m sure, but I doubt they’ll live there, and the others will pop in and out, but for the most part it’ll just be us. It’s no fancy hotel and it isn’t the nicest place, but it's a roof over your head, and you’ll get your own bedroom. It’ll do for a place to lay low until you get back on your feet.” 

“I know I’ve…been there…” Draco replied, “But…why are you offering this to me? I mean…” 

“Look– with all this being over…we’ll be in a time of peace…and so it’s only right to make amends and restart. Rebuild. Recover…and we’ve got to start somewhere. And this is where I’m choosing to do that. So, what do you think, Malfoy?” 

“I don’t really have a better alternative, do I?” he scoffed, and shook his head.

“...Right…so then…meet me in the main courtyard…after dinner…so we can go…” 

The rest of the evening passed in a hazy blur. They had a Funeral Procession for the Fallen 50. Kingsley Shacklebolt was appointed the Minister of Magic, and his first act of legislation was to make McGonagall the Hogwarts Headmistress.  There were speeches to honor the fallen, mourning songs and rituals.

Voldemort's body was incinerated. His ashes “evanescoed”- to ensure he never returned again. The professors erected a beautiful, magnificent garden at the edge of the back of the castle ground, and it was in that Garden the Fallen Fifty were Buried as equals. 

The injured were moved back into the infirmary to be overseen and tended by Poppy Pomphrey and other healers they brought in. The ones with the worst injuries– including Snape, were transferred to St. Mungos. 

There was then a great feast held in the remnants of the Great Hall. Speeches were given, songs were sung, memories of the fallen honored and shared. 

Harry ate with his friends and chosen family.

“What are you gonna do now, Harry?” Neville asked, “I mean… it’s all over…” 

“Sleep.” Harry answered, “Peacefully.” 

A few weak chuckles momentarily lifted some of the sorrow from that hall. 

-xXx-

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” Hermione asked when she, Ron, and Harry slipped out of the Great Hall into the decimated courtyard, “all this being over…what are we going to do now?” 

“Figure out how to return to our normal lives.” Ron replied, squeezing Hermione’s hand, “You know– as normal as the lives of wizards and witches can be., innit…” 

“Well…we do still have an entire school year at Hogwarts we need to finish.” Hermione said, “McGonagall said she expects us to return in the fall. And she mentioned that Hogwarts is going to have to be rebuilt over the summer…so I suppose that’s one…realtively normal thing that’s going to happen…” 

A silence fell over them. 

“I don’t think…things are ever really gonna be the same after all this, Ron…” Harry said quietly, “The Dursleys are gone, so I’m gonna go officially move into Grimmauld Place. You all are welcome any time.” 

“I…don’t really have family to go back to, either…” Hermione murmured, “I obliviated myself from my parents’ memories to protect them.” she sniffled, wiping the tears springing out of her eyes. 

Ron squeezed her hand, “Yes you do. I mean…I know it won’t be the same, but my family has already agreed to take you in. As far as mum’s concerned, you’re already her daughter-in-law.” Hermione’s cheeks flushed pink and she chuckled her tears away. She smiled at Ron. He smiled like a buffoon back, pulled her in, and kissed the top of her head. Her shoulders relaxed slightly. 

Footsteps echoing on the stairs and crunching in the dirt caught everyone’s attention. They all looked up in unison. As soon as he saw who had approached, Ron’s gaze turned to ice. 

“What the hell is he doing here?” Ron’s voice was a sharp bite. Draco glared back at him, but had no snide words to say in response. 

“It’s fine, Ron. I asked him to meet me out here.”  

“For what?” 

Harry got up from the stone bench and crossed the courtyard to Malfoy. “I’ll catch up with you later.” He lightly clapped Malfoy on the shoulder, and with a slight push they headed towards the bridge, away from Ron and Hermione. 

“So why’d you call me out here, Potter?” Draco spoke when they were out of earshot, out of sight. 

“To return something of yours.” 

Harry took the Elder wand out of his coat back and handed it to him. 

“What the hell is this? That’s not mine.” 

“Actually it is. The Elder wand belongs to the person who either disarms or kills the previous owner. And you were the one that disarmed Dumbledore the night he died. So it is yours.” Harry replied. Draco reached up and took it with a shaking hand, brushing Harry’s hand with his fingers. A gentle, warm ripple skittered down Harry’s arm. Draco stepped back slightly and gave it a wave, testing the feel, the weight of it. A sparking  jet of light shot out and took another chunk off one of the pillars. Draco’s eyes widened. 

Harry forced down an amused, half-lipped smirk, “Something you should know though. That wand is the deadliest, most powerful wand in existence, and it’s been used for a lot of death and destruction. But that said. It still belongs to you, technically. So it’s yours if you want it. Yours to decide what to do with it..” 

Draco turned up his nose. “Why would you–What kind of daft idiot gives his former rival this sort of weapon?” 

“I’m not “giving” it to you. It’s yours.” 

Draco scowled at it, “I don’t want this ghastly thing– I–”

“Would you rather get rid of it, then? You could toss it over the bridge and be done with it.” Harry suggested, “But, ultimately, it’s your wand. So, choice is yours.” Then he added, “also, for the record, It was briefly used by Voldemort, if that makes a difference.” 

“In that case, I definitely don’t want it.” He gritted his teeth, “in fact I’d like to see it destroyed . Let’s break it. You and I, Potter. Let’s snap it.” 

“Works for me.” They seized opposite ends of the wand, gripped it taut. 

“On the count of three then.” 

“One…” said Harry,

“Two…” Draco continued.

“Three.” they said in unison. With one flick of their wrists the wand snapped in two. The core glinted, and sparked, then went out with a puff of thin smoke. As soon as the wand snapped, it was as if a weight had lifted from both their shoulders. 

Harry handed Draco the half of the wand in his hand, “Here. You get rid of it.” Draco nodded gently and cast it into the water with all his might. It vanished beneath the surface, never to be used again. They leaned over the edge of the wall in silence, watching the soft summer wind send ripples across the water.

“So how does it feel, then? Having made an important choice– the right choice—on your own? No ramifications. No strings attached.” 

“I don’t know. Strange.” he drew in a deep breath, “It’s only like second time i’ve properly been able to do that…” 

“Well. There’ll be a lot more opportunities for you in the future.” 

“How about you? I mean– now that you’ve done your job as the so-called Chosen One, you’re completely free to make your own choices too.” Draco pointed out. 

“Dunno. Haven’t really thought about it.” 

“Didn’t think you did. You Griffyndors aren’t really known for using your heads, though, are you?” Draco sneered. 

“Well, Slytherins aren’t particularly known for openly using your hearts, though, are you?” Harry replied. 

Draco met Harry’s gaze. There was a short silence between them, before a smile tugged at Harry’s mouth. Draco’s lip twitched into a smirk and they shared a quiet, breathy laugh.  

“I have something else for you, by the way.” Harry said. He pulled another wand out of his pocket, “This is yours.” Draco glanced between Harry’s face and the sleek, silver-handled wand in his grasp. He took it without a word. 

“It’s a good wand,” Harry said, “We got on well. But, it’s not mine.” Draco pulled back the hem of his suit and placed his wand back in its sleek black holster, swapping it with the wand that was in there. 

“What am I supposed to do with this one? It’s my…my mother’s…”

“I can have Hedwig–” with a jolt in his stomach and the sinking of his heart he cut himself off, “No, I can’t have Hedwig do it, she….” Harry trails off again and swallows the lump in his throat, “We can owl post it back to her, if you want.”   

“I don’t know…” Draco replied, “I don’t know if I want to give it back…” 

“Again, it’s up to you.” Harry said. 

Draco nodded slowly and looked back out at the view with a deep sigh. He leaned heavily against the railing, eyes glossing over as he gazed out at the setting sun. Harry observed the other boy’s face, watching as his face melted to a melancholic, tight lipped expression. 

Harry was going to ask him if he was alright, but he already knew the answer to that. The pain behind his eyes, the stiffness in his posture– the redness that seemed to have permanently stained them since last year.

How can I comfort him? Harry thought, I mean, it’s clearly what he needs right now but how do I got about it? 

There was stil a part of Harry that thought Draco would hex him if he tried to touch him. And Draco likely wouldn’t have an answer if he asked. 

A breeze passed around them and a shudder rippled across Draco’s wiry, thin frame. Harry shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the blonde’s shoulders. Draco stiffened, and then glanced skeptically at the bespectacled boy. 

“What’s this for?” Draco asked. 

“I thought you could use a bit of warmth.” Harry said, “And I wasn’t sure how you felt about hugs, so…jacket…”

Draco rolled his eyes and tugged the jacket tighter around him. Then he promptly turned away, a bit of pink returning to his cheeks. Harry nodded briskly. 

“Anyway. You probably need some space, so I’ll just, uhh…head back towards the castle….” Harry promptly dismissed himself. 

“Potter!” Draco sharply called after him. Harry turned over his shoulder. 

“Yeah?” 

“When’s the last time you washed this? It smells like smoke, dirt, and cheap cologne.” 

“ Really? When have I had time, Malfoy?” Harry scoffed, “Fine. If you don’t want it, give it here, then.” 

Draco tugged in tighter around his shoulders. “I didn’t say it smelled bad, though, did I?” he continued. “I don’t mind it.” Harry scoffed and rolled his eyes, and continued back to the courtyard. Draco watched him leave. He swore the stiffness in is shoulders had softened some, but at the same time he didn’t want Harry to leave just yet. He just didn’t know how to stop him. Or how to communicate that. 

Later, as the crowds started trickling out, Harry, Ron, and Hermione could be found in the Gryffindor common room next to the crackling fire– which had gone miraculously untouched by the battle.  It was just them currently, but soon others would start to file in. 

“A bunch of us are camping out in the common room tonight,” Ron said, “Are you staying?” 

“Uhh…that sounds great, guys, really…but no I…I think I’m just gonna head out to Grimmauld place.” I need to get Draco where his parents won’t think to look for him. “But before I go I, I need to tell you something, just so you aren’t surprised when you come.” 

“Of course, Harry. You can tell us anything.” Hermione reassured. 

“You saw what Malfoy did, right? This morning during the stand off.” 

“He switched sides.” Hermione confirmed, “He ran right in front of Voldemort, and then threw you his wand to arm you against him.” 

“Yeah. He did the right thing after all.” Harry furthered, “And because of it…he essentially lost everything. And now he can’t go back home. That’s what he told me anyway. So I’m taking him back to Grimmauld Place with me. Until he gets back on his feet.” 

Ron promptly choked on his hot chocolate. 

“Oh, so that’s why you wanted to go back to Grimmauld Place.” Hermione realized.  

“No…absolutely not…you’re joking, right Harry?” Ron was in complete disbelief. 

“I’m not.” Harry replied. 

“But you can’t– I mean, he–” 

“I can’t just leave him after he helped me save the world, Ron. He has nothing.” 

“And if he betrays you– tries to attack you, what then?” 

“He won’t.” 

“But how can you be so sure?” Hermione asked. 

He summarized everything Draco had done this year– refusing to sell him out at Malfoy Manor, commanding Crabbe and Goyle not to kill him, switching sides…and even touched on some of what he had seen Voldemort use him for. He wrapped it up by explaining the situation with the Elder Wand. 

“I think he’s changing for the better, guys. And I want to do what I can to support him…also…I feel like…I sort of owe him really– I nearly killed him last year for one thing, and then…well…the rest is history…not to mention, I feel like as we’re entering a time of peace, it’s a chance for us to patch things up. Start fresh. There’s no point in rivalry…rivalries turn to hate, then hate makes enemies, and then enemies cause conflict, and conflict…”

“Leads to war.” Hermione finished, “I understand.”

“I mean I guess it makes sense, but I don’t like it at all.” Ron added, “I think you’ve got some iron balls, Harry. This is right mad, it is. But, hey, who am I to question the decisions of the man who just saved the world, eh?” 

“It wasn’t just me, Ron.” Harry replied. 

“...But if he tries anything, we’ll kick his arse.” Hermione declared. 

“Don’t worry. If he does, I’ll send him right back to his parents in a gift box.” Harry reassured, “But I really don’t think he will.” They trailed off to mutual, comfortable quiet. 

“...And then they were roomates.” chimed in a familiar voice. The trio looked up to see Ginny peeking in from the portrait entrance. 

“Oh my gods, they were roomates.” George appeared over his sister’s shoulder. 

“Roomates? Who’s roomates? Boys and girls aren’t allowed to be in the same dorms.” There was Percy. And then all at once, the Gryffindor common room gained three Weasleys.  

Ginny promptly sat down beside Harry, brushing his shoulder. As soon as she did, he noticed something rather strange. It felt different than usual. What was different about it was that much of that warm, fuzzy butterfly feeling she gave him seemed to have dwindled a bit. In fact, it was quite faint. How long had it been like that? 

“I think it’s very noble of you.” she said. Harry smiled at her. 

“Thanks Ginny.”  He replied. 

“...He doesn’t deserve it.” She added bitterly. 

“None of us deserve any of what’s just happened.” Harry put in, “Speaking of–” he looked up at Percy and George, “How’s Fred?”

“He’ll be along.” Percy replied. 

“Madame Pomphrey said he’ll pull through.” George added. The group let out a collective sigh of relief. 

“...But it’s gonna be a pretty long recovery.” George finished. 

“I’m glad he’ll be alright, though.” Harry said, “That’s a relief.” 

“So am I. I thought i’d lost my favorite brother.” George said. 

“Oi!” Ron scoffed. Percy rolled his eyes. 

“We’ve been together since before we were born. I’d be lost without ‘im.” George continued, “So I’m glad he’s gonna be alright.” 

“That’s essentially what they said about Professor Snape, too.” added Percy, “He’ll have permanent ramifications though. The snake’s venom damaged some of his nerves, so he’ll have a permanent physical disability, they’re saying.”

“I still don’t understand how he survived.” Hermione said. 

“Mum seems to think he survived because of Harry.” Ginny explained, “Because he didn’t let him ‘die’ alone. It was a selfless act that essentially kept him hanging onto the brink of death before someone found him.” 

“It probably had something to do with my mother, honestly.” Harry said, “It was her love that saved me…became part of me. I touched him, so some of that magic could’ve transferred over to him and kept him alive. Speaking of Snape. We were wrong about him. You won’t believe what I saw in the Pensieve…” 

-xXx-

“…Well regardless of what you saw, he’s still an arse.”

“And he used the worst of the Unforgivables. He’s a convicted Death Eater. He’ll be sent to Azkaban as soon as he’s recovered.” said Percy. 

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Harry replied. 

“You’re not serious…” Ron huffed, “Bloody ‘ell Harry– first Malfoy and now Snape?” 

“It’s the right thing to do. If I don’t advocate for them…no one will. And after all the losses we’ve had…I want to help save who I still can.” Harry said. “So if I have to be a Witness for the Defense during his trial, I will. But anyway…that’s beside the point…” he glanced up at the clock across the room, “Shit, I’ve got to go. I’ll write to you– and come visit me at Grimmauld Place whenever you’d like. Doors’ always open.” And with that, he headed out of the common room. 

He met Draco in the Viaduct courtayrd. He was a hump on a partially collapsed section of the wall. He sat silently, and only moved to tug Harry’s jacket around him. When he heard the crunch of Harry’s shoes on the dirt, he glanced up with dull, tired eyes. 

“About time, Potter. I thought you stood me up.” Draco said. 

“Stood you up?” Harry echoed, “I couldn’t have, even if I wanted to. It’s not like it’s a date.” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. 

Draco seemed to perk up at the sound of this. Harry was glad the dark obstructed the hot rush of embarrassment that coiled around him and reddened his cheeks. 

“No.” Draco replied, “It’s far from that.” 

“Anyway. Sorry for making you wait. I was preparing our ride.” 

“How long does it take to fetch a broom?” Draco huffed. 

“It’s not a broom. There’s supposed to be rain, so I had to make other arrangements.” 

“Then how are we flying?” 

“First class.” Harry answered. 

Draco’s nostrils flared in annoyance.

“Cut to the chase, already, Potter. I am in no mood.” 

“Before I show you, I want to let you know that despite her appearance, she’s completely harmless.” Before he could say anymore on the matter, the sound of hoofbeats and the rattle of the wheels of a carriage. From the archway, Luna Lovegood, barefooted and cleaned up, and dressed up as a coachman, appeared in the courtyard, walking a thestral tacked to a small, covered carriage. 

Draco veered back away from the creature. “What in the seven hells is that?” he gasped. 

“It’s a Thestral.” Luna said, “They’ve always pulled the carriages.” 

“How the bloody hell am I just now seeing that horrific thing?” Draco demanded, reeling backwards as his stomach roiled with disgust at the creature. 

Harry stepped towards the creature, moving slowly so as not to spook her, then he reached up towards her. With a snort and a nicker, and she gently nudged him with her nose, inviting him to give it a light stroke. 

“They’re only visible to those who have seen death.” Harry replied. 

“Oh…” Draco paled, “I see…” 

“They’re quite gentle, really.” Luna added. She turned back to the thestral and offered here a morsel of raw meat, “This is Eowyn. She’s the alpha mare of the herd and one of the fastest, smoothest flyers. She’ll be pulling your carriage to London tonight.” 

“We thought a covered carriage would be safer than a broom or apparition.” Harry said, “Especially there’s still…you know…Death Eaters roaming around. Anyway. Ready?” 

Draco nodded grimly, face turning pallor. Luna pulled open the door, “Your chariot awaits you, sirs~” she airily declared, a soft smile on her face. Draco and Harry clamored into the carriage. 

“Here’s the cloak, by the way.” Harry said, handing it off, “You sure you’re okay to drive?” 

“Perfectly, thanks.” Luna nodded, and closed the door, concealing Harry and Draco inside. They sat down across from each other in the dimly lit cabin. It was warm inside. Draco immediately claimed the blanket and sulked against the window, Harry reposed against the opposite bench. 

The carriage began its rickety ride across the bridge. 

“Once we’re in the air, you may want to get comfortable. It’s a bit of a drive.”

WIthin moments, the carriage began to pick up speed. 

“Preparing for take off.” Luna declared. 

“Hold on.” Harry said to Draco. 

The rattle of the carriage was an earthquake in the cabin. Draco shoved back against the wall, and firmly held on across both sides, bracing himself. Harry took hold of a convenient handle that had materialized. 

“Here we go~” 

WIth a single, powerful leap, and a gust of air, Eowyn soared over the edge of the Viaduct bridge. The wheel of the carriage missing the wall by a hair. Draco’s hand slipped from the wall and he lurched forward, immediately crashing and falling into Harry. The force of his body caused them to crash to the floor.

Draco gasped upon contact. The carriage dipped sideways sharply before readjusting. 

Draco lifted his torso, only to find Harry pinned directly beneath him. Their breaths caught in their throat. Heat rushed into their cheeks. His heart punched wildly against his ribcage, and his entire body engulfed with heat. Draco’s pulse throbbed against his diaphragm. Their chests heaved against one another as they tried to find their breath again.. And for a moment all they could do was stare at each others’ red-rushed cheeks and wide eyes in the candlelight. 

Something stirred in Draco’s stomach. A sudden wave of a feeling he’d thought he’d buried in the past. Harry stared up at him from where he was pinned to the floor. Draco slightly parted his lips, opened his mouth like he was about to say something. What was happening now was something that had only ever been in Draco’s wildest dreams. Heat curled down his spine. His head spun. Beneath him, Harry flushed a deeper shade of red. Every inch of Draco’s frame ached with a deep, throbbing pain. 

“Dammit… ” Draco whispered, in a voice that was almost entirely inaudible. There couldn’t be a worse time for this….

…Now that I’ve got him right where I want him…it’s all…

Harry’s fingers twitched, his hand moved, and then pressed lightly against Draco’s side…pushed him away, mind racing with “ what the hell this? Why do I feel like this…what the hells…”

“S-sorry. Ahem.” Draco lifted himself up slightly, “I slipped.” 

“It’s…no, it’s fine…”  

Every inch of Draco’s body screamed “no” as he pulled away, let Harry up, and sank back onto the bench of the carriage. Harry lifted himself up on his arms, his pulse roaring so loudly he couldn’t here the wind around the flying carriage. 

“Did you…hit your head?” Draco asked. 

“Nah. Just fell on my back. I’m fine though.” Harry replied, “You alright?”

“Yes. You broke my fall with your…strong, robust…torso…” 

Harry sat back on his own bench and cracked a small smile in the candlelight that made part of Draco’s insides melt. 

“Strong and robust?” Harry echoed, “That’s a new one.” a weak chuckled escaped his lips, “...That’s hardly the description i’d use.” 

“Hmm…it must be your aura, then.” 

“...Must be…” 

Draco stared at the world below. The school was small speck of indsecernable shapes and lights behind them now. Hogsmeade was a city of ants. Soon, they’d be crossing into the rolling Scottish Hills. 

They faded to silence. Draco peeled off Harry’s jacket, then his own blazer and cast them aside. He loosened his tie. The air had gotten suddenly clammy, and cast it aside. He watched the glittering stars above them, trying to distract himself by picking out the Zodiac constellations. Harry unzipped his worn zip up sweater, picked up a small, beaded purple handbag from the floor, and reposed across the bench. He opened the bag and felt around inside for the snacks he knew Hermione had put in there. WHen he found the bag of butterbeer popcorn, he pulled it out and opened it. He popped the salty-sweet, starchy snack food into his mouth. Draco glanced his way before continuing to sulk out the window.  

“Malfoy, are you hungry?” Harry asked. 

Draco perked up slightly. “I could eat.”

“Would you like a bit of butterbeer popcorn?” 

“No, thank you.” 

Harry reached back into the bag and felt around a bit more. His hand closed around a smooth, rounded object, and he pulled out a perfectly ripe apple. “How about an apple?”  

Draco sat up and studied the shiny green, red, and yellow fruit in Harry’s hand. “I’ll take that. Give it here, will you?” Harry came him a disapproving look. 

“...If you don’t mind…” Draco grumbled. 

Harry tossed it across the carriage. Draco caught it in his hand, wiped it off with his sleeve and bit into it with a scrummmch. He chewed it for a moment. Harry couldn’t help but watch the bobbing of the prominent adam’s apple on the blonde’s neck. 

“It’s not as good as the green ones, but it’s an adequate pomme, Thanks.” 

“Sure.” Harry took a few more handfuls of popcorn before losing his appetite. They descended back to the silence. Harry put away the popcorn, pulled out a radio, and then adjusted himself on the bench. “Can you hand me my jacket?” Harry asked. 

Draco tossed it over. Harry balled it up to use as a pillow, shoving it in the corner between the backrest and the window, and curled up on the bench, tucking up his legs and tucking in as comfortably as he could. 

“You alright if I put on quiet music?” Harry asked. 

“I don’t much care.” Draco answered. 

So, put on music Harry did. When he turned the dial to one of the music stations, it was playing the soft string chords and folkish melody of the band White Witch. They listened to the enthralling chords. Thunder hummed and rumbled, and the storm welled up outside. Raindrops began to fall slowly against the glass of the windows. 

At the same time, the haunting voice of the White Witch herself began to play out of the speakers and lull them away from the carriage. 

….Did I ever really care that much

Is there anything left to say?

…I haven't felt this way I feel

Since many a years ago

But in those years and the lifetimes past

I did not deal with the road…

And I did not deal with you, I know

Though the love has always been,

So I search to find an answer there…

By this point, the warm summer rain had begun to patter lightly against the carriage, and Draco watched the droplets slide down the glass like the warm tears straying from his eyes and spilling slowly down his cheeks. Across from him Harry yawned, “I’m exhausted…” he said, “I’m gonna try to doze a bit. Wake me if you need anything or whatever…” Draco nodded, but didn’t look back at him. Harry Potter had no business seeing him cry again.  

Every hour of fear I spend

My body tries to cry

Living through each empty night

A deadly call inside…

Draco fiddled with his rings. The dark mark beneath his sleeve tingled like pins and needles. He sighed against the water-stained glass. I’m so tired…tired….

That final thought faded away. And then The only thing his mind was currently doing was keeping his unconscious functions going– his pulse, his breath, the magic rippling under his skin, the nerve signals reminding him of how heavy his shoulders were, how badly his body ached, how his eyes burned…but that was all. There was nothing else. The rest was lost in the tears falling down his cheeks. 

…never have I been a blue, calm sea, 

I have always been a storm…

Always been a storm

Always been a storm

I have always been a storm…

…We were frail…

Draco glanced at Harry through his blurring, heavy lidded gaze. Rain pattered against the carriage. The White Witch’s echo filled the cabin. He welcomed it like a poignant embrace and adjusted his position, leaning. He studied Harry in the candlelight. 

The slow rise and fall of his shoulders, and the deep, slow breaths indicated the other boy was fast asleep.

Idiot. Draco thought, Falling asleep in the presence of your former enemy…I could kill you if I really wanted. 

But of course, Draco didn’t want that. 

….Then what do you want, Draco? 

...I don’t know… 

Harry’s sleeping lump was distorting in Draco’s vision. His head tilted, his eyes fluttered. The White Witch’s voice engulfed them on all sides. Her voice, the background vocals were a gentle, melancholy lull….

I should have known from the first

I'd be the broken hearted…

What does that make you, then, Draco? 

A Slytherin with no ambition…a blood traitor without a family…

…. Storm….

Who are you Draco?

Nothing. No one…

Draco stole another glance at Harry to distract himself from his own thoughts. 

…I loved you from the start…

….Storm….  

Chapter Text

(2) Begin Again

“NO-no! NO, please! A strained, gasping cry woke Harry with a start.  When the whimpers, pleas, rapid, gasping breath cut into his sleep. Across from him, Malfoy was thrashing in his slumber. His face was contorted in a tight wince. Sweat beaded against his forehead, and gasping cries ripped violently from his body,

Please ! . 

Harry got up from the bench and crossed the carriage. He made his way to Draco’s side, took his shoulder, and shook him awake. “Malfoy! Malfoy hey! Wake up!” 

Draco’s wide-eyed gaze shot open, and a strained gasp rattled his body. He stared at Harry for a moment, his expression remained sharp and hostile. Harry squeezed his bony shoulder. 

“We’re alright.” Harry’s voice was stable and calm. Draco’s eyes darted around the small interior of the carriage, then towards his shoulder where the brunette’s hand still lingered. Harry studied him with a knowing expression. Draco pulled away from him, averting his gaze, red to his ears with embarrassment. 

“You dreamt about Voldemort, didn’t you?” Harry asked, even though he already knew the answer. 

Draco nodded meekly. Harry sat down beside him on the bench, allowing space between them, “I get it, you know..” Harry affirmed, “He haunted me for 17 years.” 

“He tormented me and my parents…” Draco forced out. 

“I know.” Harry replied, “I saw it. There was always a connection between the two of us– so I would get these visions and nightmares all the time…because of this–” Harry pulled aside his fringe, indicating the scar, “It was a Horcrux. I was a Horcrux… One of seven…” 

The color drained from Draco’s face. 

“M-my point is, I understand– I know what it’s like to be haunted and tormented by him.” Harry emphasized, “So yeah…” If you ever need to talk about it, I’ve got you… 

They held each others’ gaze, and the torment in Draco’s tired expression dwindled.  

“A-anyway…uhh…I’m gonna…go back to my own seat…” Harry got up from the bench and started to cross the carriage. The moment he did, however, he was stopped when Draco’s hand shot out and caught him by the sleeve. Harry met his gaze with a creased brow. Draco flushed pink in the light, and let go again, as if he had forgotten his point and purpose of doing that. 

And before either of them could figure out, the flutter in their stomachs and the sudden downward dip of the carriage indicated they were descending into a landing. 

Eowyn trotted to a stop. Then, with a rustle of clothing and the whoosh of the door opening, Luna let them out of the carriage. 

“We have safely arrived at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.” she said. Harry and Draco stepped out of the carriage one after the other. 

 “We hope you enjoyed your trip aboard the Alpha Mare Thestral Flight #1. Please fly again with us soon.” Luna finished. 

Harry managed a meek smile and a wimp of a chuckle back at her. Harry fumbled for the keys and climbed the stairs to the front porch. Draco shuffled his after him. Harry twisted the key in the lock, and turned the knob. The door swung open with a loud creak, and the candles down the entry corridor flickered and hissed to life, illuminating the narrow hallway and the troll foot umbrella holder. 

“Here we are.” Harry said, “Home “sweet” home, I s’pose…you can go on in, Malfoy.” Draco glanced at Harry, down the dark hallway, and stepped inside. However, before he got very far, he was jump-scared by Kreature the House Elf. 

“Ahh, Master Potter. Welcome home.” Kreature croaked out. He was no sporting a gentlemanly butler’s getup, including a brocade vest and a house-elf-sized tailcoat.  

“You wretched creature, you frightened me!” Draco snapped, eyes flashing.

“Oi. Don’t talk to him like that, or he might poison your tea.” Harry warned.

“Kreature would never dream of doing such a thing to his Master’s guest.” the house elf assured, “Especially one descended from the Ancient and Noble House of Black.” he dull, wrinkled tennis ball eyes met Draco’s. Draco regarded him with a hint of his typical, cocky aloofness, peering down at the saggy old face over his nose. 

“Right– do us a favor– prepare three cups of hot tea.” Harry ordered. 

“ Of course , Master Potter. Kreature lives to serve the Master of the House of Black.” Kreature shuffled back towards the kitchen. The clinking of dishes shortly after that indicated that he had quickly followed the orders.  

“He’s been freed,” Draco observed, noticing the gentlemanly butler’s getup, “Yet he still elects to stay?” 

“He told me he’s too old to be free, so I told him he could stay here and keep acting as my paid butler.” Harry replied, then he lowered his voice to a whisper, “But he refused to take the money so I’m putting it into a pension for him. Don’t tell him that though.”  

Draco raised and eyebrow. 

“Here, you can hang your suit jacket up there. And I’ll make up a room for you in a moment.” 

Draco nodded. Harry turned over his shoulder to look at Luna, who was carefully tending Eowyn– providing her with food and water. 

“Luna– I had Kreature make you a cuppa. Do you need a room as well?” 

“Well, I wasn’t planning on staying… But I am a bit tired, and Eowyn could use the rest. She did have a bit of a long flight, after all.” 

“You can bring her inside. She can stay in the ground floor sitting room for tonight, it’s nice and spacious in there. I would offer her the Master, but Buckbeak wouldn’t be very pleased if he smelled another creature in his room when he got back..”   

“Okay.” Luna nodded and slowly began to untack Eowyn from the carriage. Then, she took the thestral by the harness and escorted her into the house. 

“I’ll be back in a moment, Malfoy. Go ahead and make yourself at home.” 

Draco nodded, feeling a strange, cold claw of green gnaw at the wall of his stomach at the thought of Harry going off with Luna, even if it was just to help her put her cursed Equidae up. Harry walked passed him and pushed open the double doors to the sitting room. 

“I do appreciate you offering me a bedroom, Harry, but I’m fine to stay in the sitting room with Eowyn, just so she doesn’t get lonely. It’s sad to be all on your own. The couches are perfectly comfortable.” 

-xXx-

Draco stepped cautiously down the corridor, making his way deeper into the house. As he made his way down the hall, he noticed a rather impressive portrait covered with a black curtain. He back- tracked when he saw it, and then, out of curiosity, pulled back the curtain to meet the glare of his Great Aunt Walburga. 

As soon as she saw him, a horrible scream exploded from the portrait and rattled the walls of the house. 

“HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME, YOU INSOLENT CHILD!” 

Draco jumped backward, stumbling over a bump in the carpet runner and nearly thunked into the opposite wall. A gust of wind blew the curtain aside. 

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU DID, BOY!? YOU STAIN OF DISHONOR! YOU FILTHY LITTLE BLOOD TRAITOR! YOU HAVE SOILED THE LEGACY OF–” Draco shoved his hands over his ears fled the hall towards the nearest sitting room as she continued to scream after him, every word piercing through his ribs like a freshly sharpened dagger as he ran up the first flight of stairs, and stumbled into the drawing room, slamming the door behind him to drown out his Great Aunt’s screams until they stopped. 

He took a moment to catch his breath and attempt to use that to unfurl the knot twisting his stomach, before taking in the sparsely decorated sitting room. However, when he did find his breath again, it was scarcely a glimpse of relief, for he was face-to-face with the Black family tapestry….

…And the acrid reek of something burning was engulfing his senses. 

-xXx-

They had been rearranging some furniture to create more space for Eowyn when the screaming portrait made every single one of them jump. Harry nearly fell over the couch, Luna stiffened and Eowyn whinnied loudly, rearing up on her back legs, and flapping her leathery wings, and knocking knickknacks awry. 

“Whoah, whoah…steady, Eowyn, steady it’s okay.” Magic sparked at the tip of Luna’s wand, and she gently laid her hands, wand included, on Eowyn’s flank. The thestral flared her nostrils, but fell back onto all fours, nickering quietly. “There, there, see? Everything is alright. Sorry about that Harry.” 

“Nah, i’m the one who should be sorry. That portrait is a nasty buggar. I need to figure out the counterspell for her permanent sticking charm. I’m tired of her harassing people when they enter my house.” 

“That isn’t your fault.”

“Draco must’ve accidentally set her off. I hope he’s alright. He’s already having a rough of it.” 

“You can go check on him. I’m okay for the moment.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes. I just need to help Eowyn get acclimated with her new sleeping space.” 

“You can use those blankets on the couch there. I’ll also go and grab some more, and I’ll see what I have by way of pajamas lying around on my way back.” 

“Just go an check on Draco~ I think you’re itching to. Eowyn and I are okay. You’re a very thoughtful host.” 

“Thanks. Be back in a mo.” Harry stroked Eowyn on her nose, and then exited back into the corridor. He climbed the stairs up to the first floor.

When he made it to the first floor landing he was welcomed by the reek of something burning. Then he heard the tell-tale sound of someone quietly weeping. He took his newly repaired wand to have it at the ready, fully prepared to blast whatever was burning with the “Aguamenti”. He slowly approached the door to the tapestry drawing room. The weeping was louder here. He pressed his ear to the door. The burning smell and sobbing were coming from the other side. He waited a beat, then pushed open the door. 

Deathly green fire flashed in pale eyes as Draco watched his own picture burst into flames on the Black family tapestry. His glass heart shattered in his stomach, tears burned behind his wet, wide-eyed gaze. He dropped to his knees. His vision blurred. Strained, pitiful sobs rattled his shoulders and seething tears spilled towards the floor.

Draco was on his knees before the Black family tapestry. He was bent double, weeping in front of a portrait in the bottom right corner. He was a small hump in the large, desolate room, his curled, hunched frame tiny before the tapestry wall. Harry caught the tail end of the flame as it went out, and noticed a new charred black spot on the tapestry.  

The blonde’s shoulders wracked with violent trembles, and his sobs echoed across the desolate walls, bouncing off the chairs and filling the room with a heartwrenching sound. Harry dared step closer. 

Draco stiffened. He whipped his head toward the door. Dirt-streaked tears ran down his cheeks like cracks on a porcelain doll. His expression hardened. Instinctively, his hand reached for his wand, but stopped in its tracks. Harry held his hands up to show he was unarmed. Draco stood up and immediately avoided meeting Harry’s gaze. Harry carefully inched forward to stand beside him. Inched forward to see what Draco had been sobbing over. That’s when he saw the singe mark on the family tree where the blonde’s portrait had been.

Harry cast him a soft, empathetic look. Draco refused to meet it. He sniffled, and sharply wiped the tears from his face with a sleeve. Harry drew a breath. They were shoulder to shoulder.

“You know a wise person once told me that a time would come when we’d have to choose between what’s right and what’s easy. And a lot of the times the thing that’s right is never easy…I know it…sucks right now…but…it’ll be…okay, because…I’m not like them.” Harry said, “I’m not gonna throw you to the wolves. We’ll…manage.” he assured.

Draco perked up at the “we”, but then quickly melted back into scorn.

“I hate it…” Draco hissed, “I don’t want your help, but I don’t have a choice. Just like always…” 

“I’m not so sure. I mean you chose to accept my help, unlike past situations where you were forced.” Harry replied. Draco’s expression tightened, “But also, when you think about it logically– this is the best place for you to be.” he furthered, “It’s better than being stuck at the school you hate or out on the streets where straggling death eaters can find you and kill you.” 

Draco’s face paled. . 

“I’m probably just grasping at straws…” Harry added. “But listen–I get it, Malfoy.” he affirmed. “Trust me…I know what it’s like to lose your whole family.” 

Draco’s glossy eyes shifted to cast Harry a sidelong glance.

“....You want to know how I see it?” Harry continued.  

 “How?” Draco sniffled.

Harry turned to face him, “You just found out that some wizarding families are better than others, Malfoy. And you got unwillingly roped in with the wrong sort, and suffered for it. . And it’s one of the most difficult things that has ever happened to you. But you don’t have to worry about that anymore because…I’ve got you now.” Harry replied, “Whatever happened between us in the past is past. Before the war. Post War things’ll be different. Better…” he furthered, “Like water under the bridge…”

Draco’s brows knitted with skepticism. 

“So, let’s start over, shall we?” Harry continued. Draco raised a brow. 

Harry held out his hand, “I’m Harry, Harry Potter.” 

“What are you doing? This is ridiculous.” Draco huffed. Yet he failed to hide the hint of a smile tugging the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes. But then he reached out his own hand and took Harry’s.

  “And I’m Mal–Draco. Draco Malfoy.” 

Harry smiled at him. Draco’s heart melted to the floor. Then they both turned back to the tapestry. Harry’s eyes darted from one singe spot to the next until he reached Draco’s. As he studied the singe mark, he noticed that Draco was one of three branching out from Narcissa and Lucius. The portraits depicted two others– one was a pale-haired infant, the other was a little girl with dark hair and striking gray eyes just like Draco’s. 

Marjorie Malfoy. Dorothea Malfoy. 

Harry’s brows furrowed together. 

Have there always been three? I thought Draco was an only child…that’s curious…

Harry glanced at Draco. Draco met his gaze. Warm rose dusted their faces, and then turned away again. 

Since when is he so handsome? Harry thought to himself. 

“Master Potter, the tea is ready.” Kreature croaked from the doorway. 

“Great, thanks. I’ll take it in the ground floor sitting room. Could you prepare a room for my guest, please?”

“And draw a bath, if you don’t mind.” Draco piped in, “I’ll take my tea in there.”  

“Certainly, sirs.” Kreature nodded, “Kreature will draw baths for everyone. Kreature thinks you all could use one.”  

“Anyway, I’m gonna go and grab some things for Luna. And I’ll find you a change of clothes– something comfortable to sleep in– while I’m at it.” 

Draco nodded. 

“Do you need anything else?” 

“No. I’m alright.” 

Harry nodded, lightly reached over and squeezed Draco’s shoulder, and then disappeared out the door. He went and grabbed some extra blankets from the closet, and then poked his head into the room that Hermione and Ginny had stayed in during the order days to see if they had left anything behind. But of course, they hadn’t. He did, however, manage to find a plum colored Victorian nightdress with ruffles made of silk. He thought that looked like Luna, so he grabbed it for her. He did some additional scavenging and also managed to find some deep red silk pajamas in Regulus’s old room. They were a little musty, but they didn’t smell dirty. 

He brought Luna the blankets. When he arrived, he found her sitting up against Eowyn’s flank, sipping her tea. Eowyn was sitting and drinking water out of a large pot. 

“Here. I brought some more blankets. I also found this in one of the wardrobes. Thought you could use something comfortable to sleep in.” 

“Thank you, Harry.” 

“Do you need anything else, Luna?” 

“Do you have some parchment and quills? I’d like to write a letter to my daddy.” she said, “I want to let him know that I am okay. He was just released from Azkaban and I need to let him know he doesn’t have to worry about me.” 

“I do…but I don’t have a way for you to send it out…” Harry replied, “Hedwig’s gone.” 

“I’m sorry about that, Harry.” she said. 

“It’s…alright…” 

“Is it?” 

“It will be…” 

“Okay.” she replied, “I will still take the quill and parchment though. I can mail it from Diagon Alley tomorrow. Then I think I’ll head back home.” 

“I’ll fetch that quill and parchment, then.” 

“Thank you, Harry. You are a wonderful host.” Eowyn nickered and puffed her nostrils. 

“Eowyn thinks so too.” 

“Yeah. No problem. Anything else?”

“No. Your house elf tended me earlier.” 

Harry nodded. Then without another word, he disappeared towards the stairs again. He followed the sound of running water to the bathroom closest to the tapestry sitting room. The door was closed when he arrived, so he knocked lightly. 

“Malfoy?” he called, “It’s Harry. I found you some pyjamas.” The door cracked open, and Draco, bare shoulder, poked his head sideways out from the edge of the door. He glanced down at the set in Harry’s arms.

“Will these do?” 

“I have the same set in black. Those are perfectly adequate. Give them here.” 

Harry stepped back from the door and stretched out his arm. Draco reached out a thin, pallor arm. When it arced through the air, the stark, glaring dark mark seemed to ripple across the moon-colored inner arm. Harry struggled not to stare. His heart dropped to his stomach and the color faded from his face. Fight or flight threatened to bubble over like an overfilled pot on the stove. 

Draco froze, breath hitching. Harry tore his eyes from Draco’s arm and peer up into gray-blue pools instead. Draco’s gaze sharpened. 

Harry turned away, “N-no…like I said…it wasn’t you…I mean…” Draco plucked the pajamas from Harry’s hand and recoiled behind the door, closing it a little too loudly. 

-xXx-

Harry was in the kitchen, sipping a second cup of tea and nibbling a stale biscuit. He sat at the table alone, blanket over his shoulders. He was reading the Evening Prophet and listening to the radio when he heard the footsteps on the stairs. Draco’s expression was soft and melancholy, and there were clear dark circles under his eyes.  

Harry turned down the music and lowered the paper, “Hey.” he said, “You alright?” .  

Draco nodded curtly. Harry gave him a once over, unable to shake the thought that Draco looked good in red. 

“Fine. I’m just looking for a glass of water.” 

Harry set the paper on the table, “I’ll get you one.” He hung his blanket on the back of the chair and got up, making his way to the icebox. He pulled out a ceramic pitcher, and got out a glass. 

While he was fetching the water, Draco glanced at the Evening Prophet. All of tonight’s articles were about the end of the war. Some rejoiced, others expressed condolences and casualties. Aurors had allegedly rounded up some of the remaining Death Eaters. 

And then he saw it. The headline was enough: “ Child Death-Eater, Draco Malfoy, Switches Sides Last Minute…What does his Father say about this?” by Rita Skeeter. Draco skimmed the article. All it did was summarize what had happened, debated with itself whether Draco was redeemed or not, and of course there was no response from his father. Merely speculating what he would think. It also included an image of Draco running in front of Lord Voldemort and tossing Harry his wand. 

“That was quite brave of you, you know.” Harry’s sudden presence beside Draco caused the blonde to jump out of his seat.

“...Sorry.” 

“Don’t do that again, Pottah!” Draco hissed. 

“My bad…” Harry set the glass down in front of Draco and peered over his shoulder. 

“It really was though. It was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen.” Harry repeated. Draco’s demeanor softened. He picked up the water glass and took a sip. 

Harry leaned against the edge of the table. “And admirable.” he added softly. Draco dusted pink, “I mean, you ran right in front of Voldemort and threw aside your only weapon against him.” Harry said, “That takes iron balls, you know. He could’ve killed you easily, yet you did it anyway.” 

“I know.” the color had vanished from Draco’s face again, “I knew the risk, but I felt I owed it to you. You flew back into Fiendfyre for me.” 

They held each other’s gaze again. The music filled the void between them. 

…was held in chains but now I’m free

I’m hanging in there, don’t you see

In this process of elimination…

Hey little train!

We’re all jumping on

The train that goes to the Kingdom…

-xXx-

“I’m glad he didn’t.” Harry said, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Draco’s gaze locked on Harry’s. Harry smiled at him again. It was a smile so warm and gentle, a smile so familiar–his face crinkled the same it always had. Draco’s heart pounded against his chest. The smile yanked his heartstrings in every direction, but not in a negative way. It triggered this boyish part of him, the one that had always secretly longed for Harry to look at him like that. He managed to offer a poignant smile back.. 

“Thanks, Pottah.” Draco said quietly. Then, he got up from the table with his water glass, and headed towards the stairs, “I’m going to bed. You should too.” 

“In a bit.” Harry answered. 

Draco nodded. 

“I’ll be in the big bedroom on the third floor– if you need anything.” Harry said.  

“Kreature put me two doors down from you– the room right next to the study.” Draco said. If you want to come by… Chimed in the devil on his shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Pottah.” 

“Goodnight, Malfoy.”  

Chapter Text

(3) A Change in the Winds

Draco awoke to the smell of savory breakfast and freshly brewed coffee wafting into his room. Laughter was coming from the kitchen. Sunlight streamed into the window and when he opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar room. He sat up quickly and sharply darted his gaze about. And then he remembered where he was. And everything that had happened the day before. 

He dragged his aching body out of bed, slipped on slippers, and grabbed the dark crimson robe that had been left for him. He pulled it over the black silk pajama set he’d burrowed from one of the wardrobes. He followed the laughter, the smell of breakfast and coffee, down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

The door to the kitchen was halfway open, and from where he was, he could see about six people at the breakfast table. He also saw movement of a small fram– indicating that Kreature was moving around the table. Draco stepped towards the door and pushed it open a bit more, cautiously peaking in. 

As soon as they saw him, the table went silent and half a dozen sets of eyes looked up at him. He recognized Ron and Ginny Weasley, Granger, Lovegood, and Longbottom. From the end of the table, Harry smiled warmly, once more the look making Draco melt to the floor. That was until he noticed Ginny Weasley sitting beside him. 

“Morning, Malfoy. Join us. I saved you a seat.” he indicated the open spot next to him. Draco stepped inside the brightly lit kitchen and slowly made his way over, avoiding the gazes of everyone else. Kreature pulled out the chair and Draco sat down at the empty seat between Harry and Lovegood. The conversations continued. 

“How are you today, Draco Malfoy?” Lovegood’s airy voice caught him by surprise. He turned to look at her, and gaped for a second, surprised that someone had actually spoken to him. 

“Uhh…” he shifted uncofmrotably, “Fine…” 

She smiled and turned her attention back to the conversation happening around the table.  

“...As you can imagine, Mum wasn’t too happy with ditched her to have breakfast here…” Weasley was saying. 

“...Coffee or tea?” Harry asked. It took Draco a moment to realize Harry was talking to him. 

He turned and met the bespectacled green eyes and promptly blushed, “Uhh…tea…” 

Harry picked up the teapot and filled the cup in front of Draco. 

“Do you want cream or sugar?” Harry asked. 

“…bit of both…” 

Harry slid the container of sugar cubes and mini pitcher of cream over the him. 

“And help yourself to anything of course.” Harry indicated the family-style buffet laid out across the table. Draco nodded. 

“Are you coming today, Harry?” Neville asked. 

“Coming? To what?” Harry replied. 

“McGonagall’s invited everyone who wants to to come help clean up and repair Hogwarts.” Ginny answered, “I hear that it’s supposed to be the biggest gathering of Wizards and Witches in centuries. She’s recruiting everyone so the school will be good as new when the term starts in fall.” 

“Oh…I don’t know…” Actually, he didn’t want to go at all. In fact, Hogwarts was the last place he wanted to be right now. 

“It’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to go, Harry.” Hermione reassured, “You can always come another day. It’s starting tomorrow, but it’s going to take a few months to complete.” 

“Or, you don’t even have to come at all, mate. If you’d rather just have some quiet time in, we don’t blame you,” Ron added, “But we wanted to extend the invitation.” 

“If he does go, he won’t be able to catch a break…” Draco scoffed, “He just saved the world, everyone’s going to be hounding him.” 

Everyone turned and stared, surprised Draco had spoken. Draco averted his gaze and took a dainty sip of tea, hiding his eyes behind the rim of the cup. 

“...He is sort of right, you know.” Luna chimed in, nibbling on her fruit salad. 

“I’ll come, just not today. Ron’s right, I could use a quiet day in.” 

“Sure, Harry. We’ll let old McGonagall know.” Ron nodded. Draco didn’t receive an invitation from the others. He finished his tea, barely helped himself to anything, and then excused himself to his quarters. 

-xXx-

“Do you really not want to come help rebuild today, Harry, or are you staying because of Malfoy?” Ron half demanded when the trio was sharing a moment in the tapestry room. 

“Partially. I mean he’s having a rough of it right now. I can’t bring myself to leave him alone. Especially after what happened when we got here last night.” 

Ron and Hermione appeared taken aback. Their gazes widened and they raised their eyebrows. 

“What happened last night?” Hermione asked. 

He led them to the tapestry., “Well, first Walburga Black gave him a what for. And then that.” he pointed out the burn splotch where Draco’s name had been. “It just burst into flames. Like whatever magic it was imbued with knew…” Harry said, “He’s taking it really hard. I’ll be honest…when I took him in last night…I knew it was reckless, I knew I was taking a risk, trusting him. But after this…I’m bloody certain of it. He has switched sides. We’re gonna see a change in him for the better. It’ll be nice to know who the real Draco is.” 

“Well…don’t expect me to welcome him with open arms.” Ron said.

“I know. I don’t.” 

Hermione placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “I think it’s wonderful what you’re doing Harry. And I completely understand where you’re coming from. But it’ll be awhile before either of us warm up to the idea of him.” 

“I get it.” Harry said. 

“I don’t know if I ever will, to be honest. Not unless he apologizes for being a prick and changes his behaviors.” Ron said, “I don’t know if I can forgive the bloke for talking down on my family, and I especially don’t think I’ll be able to forgive him for calling Hermione that slur. ” 

“I don’t agree with what he’s done in the past, and I’m prepared to discuss it with him at some point, but I’m willing to give him a second chance. I’m willing to try. Because all he’s said and done- I’m ninety percent sure that it was his Father, not him. Someone’s gotta be there for him…he’s suffered as much as we have because of all this.” 

“We understand, Harry.” Hermione reassured. Ron nodded.

“Are we happy with it? No. Do I think he deserves another chance? No. But am I gonna show up for me best mate and help out? Yeah. So if ya need us to break into Malfoy Manor or something to get Draco’s things. We’re there.” 

Harry’s shoulders relaxed, “Thanks, Ron.” 

“Just let us know, okay Harry?” emphasized Hermione. 

“I will, thanks.” 

The three of them took a moment and stood before the tapestry. Hermione was in the middle, holding both Ron and Harry’s hands.

“Who’s Dorothea and Marjorie?” she asked, noticing their portraits.

“I don’t know.” Harry replied, “BUt I’m curious. Maybe I’ll find out from him after all this calms down.” 

They nodded and hugged again. Harry then escorted them towards the door. 

“Well, you know where we’ll be, Harry,” Ron said, “If you need us.” 

“I’ll send an owl or something. Or I’ll pop by.”  

“Take care of yourself in the meantime, Harry.” Hermione reached for his hands and squeezed, “Promise you’ll reach out?” 

“Yeah. I will.” 

“Look for my owl. I’ll check in with you later today or tomorrow.” Hermione added.   

“Okay.” 

She gave him another hug, and then took Ron’s hand. They disaparated away, blurring into nothing before his eyes. 

“I’ll be off as well, Harry.” Luna said, appearing from the formal sitting room with Eowyn in tow. Harry side stepped out of the way as she led he Thestral down the staircase. “I’ve got to go mail this letter.” she pulled herself up onto Eowyn’s back, “You want to come with, Neville?” she asked, noticing him lingering in the entryway of the formal dining.  

“Uhh, yeah sure.” she scooted up towards the front of the creature, and offered Neville a hand up. Bashfully, he took it, and pulled himself onto Eowyn behind her. 

“I’ll be back later for the carriage.” Luna said, and then took off into the air, “Farewell for now.” . 

“See you later.”

“Bye Harry.”

“Bye Neville.” 

With that, Eowyn spread her beautiful bat-like wings and took off into the air. Harry watched them vanish into a spec. 

“So, what now?” Ginny made her presence known. She had come out of the main sitting room and she was leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Uhh…” Harry looked at her, unsure what to do. He had barely interacted with her since the battle, and when he looked at her, it was strange. Those sparks and butterflies he used to feel when looking at each other, were suddenly not there anymore. And it occurred to him that this was the first time they’d been alone since together since the wedding. 

She joined him on the porch and sat down on the steps. She patted a spot next to him. He sat down. 

“I wasn’t really sure where we stood after the wedding.” she said. “I mean, we broke up at the end of 6th year, but then we kissed at the wedding. It was weird.” 

“Yeah…” 

“I’m gonna cut to the chase.” she said, “Where do we stand? ‘Cuz, I mean, over the course of this year, I’ve learned a lot about myself and, well, if I’m honest, I really don’t think it’s gonna work out between us anymore.” 

Harry turned and glanced over his shoulder at her. “Why not?” the words left before he could fully think them through. Even though there was a little worm in the back of his mind that agreed with that, though he wasn’t entirely sure why at the present time. 

“Let me just preface this and say that it’s nothing personal. And it’s not you, it’s me– and all that codswallop.” she said, “Truth is, I like you as a friend. And even if I wanted to like you as more than that, I couldn’t. Thing is, over this passed year, I wasn’t sure where we stood and I may have…experiemented a bit. And through that experimentation– I realized I’m actually into girls. Romantically, I mean. I’m a lesbian. I think. Also, blokes are so complicated.”  

“Oh.” Harry replied, “Really?” A knot unfurled from his stomach. What? Why am I relieved…I don’t understand…

“Yeah. Pretty much.” 

“Hmm. Alright then.” Harry’s voice was nonchalant, neutral. 

Ginny lightly thunked him on the back with her fist, “But hey, I wouldn’t take back our time together for anything. And I do still really care for you. Just not like that.”

“Yeah, no, I get it…” Harry replied, “Actually, it’s weird you brought that up now, because I think I might feel the same way…I was beginning to question my feelings– ‘cuz it doesn’t feel the same anymore. I was about to tell you. But you beat me to the punch just now.” 

Tension shook out of Ginny’s shoulders. “That’s a relief.” she said. 

There was a short pause between them. 

“It’s fine, by the way.” Harry said. “That you’re gay. Or…lesbian. I don’t mind. I’m glad you told me instead of stringing me along.” 

“...And anyway.” Ginny tugged her knee to her chest, “I doubt I could compete with Malfoy even if I tried.” a smirk tugged the corner of her mouth. 

“What?” Harry’s cheeks turned fiery red, “What are you talking about?” 

“Exactly what I said.” she emphasized. 

“I don’t…” Harry turned red all the way up to his ears, “You’re barking.” 

“Am I though?” 

“I–” 

“Your flustered respond tells me otherwise.” she said. 

“Ginny–” 

She patted his shoulder, “Listen, all I’ve gotta say is– now that this whole Voldemort situation is done with– you’ve gotta figure out who Harry is. And as you do– don’t be afraid to branch out, try new things you haven’t thought of before. You’ll discover amazing things about yourself you wouldn’t have known otherwise.” she said, “And hey– it’s probably gonna be a bit weird right now– but I hope we can still stay friends.” 

“Well, we sort of have to. I mean, your brother’s me best mate.” Harry replied, “And…yeah, I’ve gotta process it and all, but I still like you a lot too, Ginny. I want you in my life, even if we are just friends. And I’m sorry I was a dickhead last year.”

“Ron’s always a dickhead. It’s cool.” she smiled. 

Harry offered her a poignant smile back. 

“Whoever you end up with’ll be a lucky girl.” Harry said. 

“Thanks. You’ll find someone too~ sooner than you expect, I’ll wager.” Ginny replied. 

There was another pause.

“Hey, I’ve gotta…weird request.” Harry eventually said, “I know you’re into girls– and that’s cool. But– could I, like, kiss you one more time? Maybe it’ll be clearer to me how I feel about it all…” 

“Sure. Why not.” 

So he did– a short, chaste thing. She kissed him back. And then parted. They took a moment. He pulled back and processed. 

“Yeah, that was definitely weird.” Harry said to her, “I think we are better as friends.” 

She nodded in agreement. It hadn’t been near as awkward before as it was now. “Anyway. I’m gonna go now. You should go check on Malfoy.” she stood up and stepped down the stairs. 

Harry nodded. “See you later.” 

“Bye, Harry.” 

She stepped out like she was going to apparate. 

“Actually– can I burrow the floo fireplace?” 

“Sure.” 

-Xxx-

Once all his friends were gone, Harry made his way up to the third floor. When he got there, he saw that Draco’s door was cracked open. So, he pushed it open a bit more, and poked his head in. The blonde had pulled up a chair and was currently sitting in front of the window. He rest his elbow on the windowsill, and was peering out to the gray London street below. He pressed his head against the glass and sighed. His face was sullen, and once more Harry observed how tired he looked. It was at that point, he decided to make himself known. 

“Hey, uhh…” 

Draco stiffened abruptly, and whipped around with a startled gasp, “Potter! You can’t just sneak up on my like that!” he snapped. 

“Sorry…” Harry replied, “I was just…coming to check on my guest…see if you, uhh, needed anything. How are you?” 

Draco’s demeanor softened. “Not really.” he replied, “I’m fine.”  

“Right…okay…”

“So all your friends left, then.” Draco commented, “Why else would you be up here with me…” 

“Yeah, they went to help rebuild Hogwarts.” Harry replied. 

“You could’ve gone, you know.” Draco scoffed, “To help rebuild the school. You didn’t have to stay here with me. It’s not like I really need you to stay, anyway. I can look after myself.” 

“There’ll be plenty of other chances for me to go. It’s a big project, so it’ll take awhile. One day isn’t going to hurt anyone.” Harry answered, “And anyway, it wouldn’t feel right to just leave you alone after all this.” After you’ve lost everything. 

Draco’s demeanor softened even more, but his response was rude and callous as usual. “...Hmmph. I hope you didn’t tell Weasley and Granger that you saw me crying last night..” Draco spat out their names as if he had just eaten a bad bit of apple or something, “I know you tell them everything.” 

“I told them about the tapestry, but I didn’t mention anything about you crying.” Harry replied. Draco turned back to the windowsill and continued to gaze out the glass, resting his chin upon his folded hands. A deep sigh left his frame and hunched and relaxed his posture with a whoosh of warm breath. Harry studied him in silence– taking in the sharp features, pale eyes, and the loose strands of platinum blonde hair falling about his face instead of being neatly combed. It was fluffy and tousled... better looking, even. I like it like that… Harry thought to himself, and then promptly blushed again. Actually he’s…

Draco was handsome, attractive…

Blood rushed to Harry’s cheeks and stepped back towards the door. Harry stepped towards the door, taken aback by his own thoughts. Since when? When have I ever thought that…have I always thought that? 

Come to think of it…I’ve always been…interested in him…I thought it was just because I wanted to know what he was up to…but…maybe… 

I couldn’t compete with Malfoy, even if I tried. Ginny’s statement thrummed across his mind. 

What had she meant by that? 

You’re getting a little obsessed with Malfoy, Harry… Ron’s words from 6th year replayed in the back of his head. 

I’m not…I’m not…into him, am I? I thought…I mean, I’m not really into blokes…but…

And all that combined with the way it felt when Malfoy had fallen on him on the ride here last night…how…

“Potter!” Harry snapped out of whatever intrsuvie thoughts were engulfing his semi-clouded brain. He looked back across the room. Malfoy was studying him over his shoulder. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Harry’s cheeks flushed deeper, and color swiftly returned to Malfoy’s face. And then they were both blushing fiercely at each other again, to a point that they both had to turn away.

“Uhh…nothing…I just…I…I’m not staring…” Harry spluttered out, “I was looking at your, uh, hair– yeah. I like your hair that way. It beats the comb and gel look…”

Draco’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink and a small smile tugged the corner of his mouth. 

There was a short pause between them. 

“So, where do you stand with the Weasley girl?” Draco asked out of the blue, “I heard you talking to her earlier. And word to mouth, rumour had it you two were going around.” 

“Oh. Actually, we opted to go our separate ways. Turns out she’s a lesbian and we agreed we’re better off as friends. ‘Bout like, five minutes ago.” 

“Hmm.” Draco replied, “That might be for the best.” 

Those words struck something in Harry like the delicate strum of a harp string. 

“A-Anyway…if you don’t need anything…I’ll be in the study. If you need something— Kreature is around somewhere…and I’m the next door down. Make yourself at home, too, you know. You don’t have to just hull up in your room all day.” Harry said, and then promptly dismissed himself, flushed red up to the tips of his ears. 

-xXx-

They kept to themselves for most of the day. Harry was at a loss about what to do, because there was nothing he necessarily had to do. For once, he was at liberty to do what he wanted. Except he hadn’t been able to do what he wanted for an age, so he didn’t have the foggiest clue what his desires were. 

I s’pose I could just…study…catch up on…school? I mean, I did miss an entire year, so… 

Uggh, is that REALLY the best I can think of? I’m turning into Hermione…

He took out his wand and turned on the gramophone in the far corner of the room, and then decided to explore the books and writings in the study. The exploration turned into cleaning and organizing…a habit that had become an involuntary instinct thanks to the Dursleys, except it was a little easier this time, because he was legally allowed to perform magic outside of school now. He performed the tasks absentmindedly– dusting and sweeping and organizing…all while every corner of his mind filled itself up with thoughts and images of Draco, then wandered back to far more unpleasant thoughts of the war. 

How much of a victory had it been, really? The enemy was vanquished, but the dead were too many. Hedwig was gone. And the Death Eaters were still out there. So what if they were disbanded. So what if they had fled the battlefield. They had lived. Was the enemy truly gone? Out there wasn’t safe…and it was nothing short of a miracle that Harry, Ron, and Hermione…and his core group of friends…had survived. But Hogwarts would never be the same. 

Voldemort was dead but so were his parents, Hedwig, Lupin and Sirius and Moody and Tonks and Dumbledore and Dobby… 

And Snape…there was always Snape. Of all the adults to have survived the battle…

At least there was McGonagall. At least there was Hagrid… 

Harry’s foot slipped. He fell off the chair, landing with large crash. He swore under his breath. All his spells came to an abrupt halt, and everything came crashing down with a chorus of thunks and clatters that rattled the walls of the house. 

Moments later, the thunder of footsteps sounded down the hall, and Draco came stumbling in the room. 

“Pottah!” he exclaimed, “What the bloody hell was that– oh.” 

Harry had fallen flat on his arse and there was now a pile of books, a slew of papers and quills, and a mess of cleaning supplies scattered across the floor.

“I fell off the chair.” Harry confessed.

.

“Yes, I can see that now.” Draco exhaled with relief. He stepped around the mess and into the room, offering Harry a hand up off the ground. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah. Fell flat on my arse though.” Harry began to gather up the books. Draco leaned against the doorframe. 

“Why were you standing on a chair anyway?”

“I was mucking around, organizing and such.” 

“What, you mean like cleaning?”  

“Yeah, I was.”

“But that’s– I mean– that’s servant stuff. And you have a house elf.”

“I know, but he’s about doing other tasks.” Harry replied, “And cleaning helps me clear my head. I cleaned all the time when I lived with my aunt and uncle. I’m used to it. And now I can use magic, so I don’t mind it.” 

“I hate cleaning.” Draco scoffed, “When I would get in trouble after Dobby was…” Harry’s heart twisted with a throbbing, tightening ache at the mention of the elf. “...My father would make me do chores.” His face darkened. He sunk down onto the large leather office chair with a defeated sigh.  “I guess…I don’t have to worry about getting assigned chores as a consequence anymore, do I?” 

“No. I guess not.” Harry picked up his wand and used it to put the books back in the shelf. Then he tidied up the mess on the desk. 

“Speaking of servants…where’s Dobby? Last I saw he was with you.” 

Harry froze. He felt the color drain from his face. Tears stung the back of his eyes like tiny, hot needles stabbing the, through the back. “Dobby’s dead.” 

“What?”

“When Bellatrix threw her dagger the night we escaped from the manor, it…it got him…r-right in the heart.” his voice shook, “She was aiming it at me but he took the blow. And he died in my arms.” 

“No…” Draco whispered, “I swear, Pottah, you better be lying to me.” 

Harry swiftly wiped over his stinging eyes with a sleeve, “No. Why would I lie about that?” 

Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“We buried him by the ocean…” 

They faded into a heavy silence. 

“Did he suffer…?” Draco whispered.

Harry shook his head. “Not for long.” Harry looked towards the window so Draco wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

“At least…at least there’s that…” Draco murmured, “He was a good house elf…” 

Harry sniffled, “...I can…take you to visit him…if you want to…pay your respects.” 

Draco nodded. Harry drew a deep breath. 

Minutes later, Draco slipped his hand in Harry’s, and they disapparated away. 

-xXx-

When the haze cleared, the first thing Draco heard was the crash of waves on the shore. Then he smelled the salty, crisp, fishy air of the sea. Draco was standing on the sand. There was a sea breeze. When his vision came into focus. They were standing in front of a quaint little cottage. 

“It’s just up this way.” Harry said. His hand slipped from Draco’s, twitching in a way that made it seem like it was the last thing Harry wanted to do. 

He started up the hillside, over the delicate blades of grass. Draco walked past the cottage and trudged up after him. Harry was standing in front of a grave marked by a smooth rock that had been carved into as a headstone. 

Here lies Dobby. A free elf.. 

Draco stepped up to Harry’s side. They shared a moment of silence. Draco cast a plant making spell and a bouquet of flowers materialized in front of the stone. Harry sat down in front of the grave. Draco’s hand shakily found it’s way to Harry’s shoulder and sat down next to him. 

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It was a small crystal– what kind, Harry couldn’t recall. Amethyst, maybe? Draco concealed it in his hands and closed his eyes for a moment, slowing and deepening his breathing. He whispered, like a mantra, 

Pacem invenire in mortem…Pacem invenire in mortem….pacem invenire in mortem…

Something in Draco’s aura changed in that moment. A sudden spike in magic. When he unveiled the crystal– yes, it was an amethyst, it was glowing from within. Draco caught Harry staring at it, but too shy to ask what he had done. 

“Do you want to try?” Draco asked, “It’s an ancient ritual– meant to assist in grief, and help the spirit of the deceased find peace and safety in the afterlife. It’s not hard. I can help you.” 

Harry nodded. Draco slipped the crystal into Harry’s hand and pressed against it, curling his fingers over it. It was warm, and Harry could still feel whatever energy Draco had transferred into it pulsing lightly against his coarse skin. Draco’s slender fingers curled over Harry’s, soft and warm, relaxing Harry in a way he had never felt. 

“Think of your favorite memory with him.” Draco explained, “And how much you love and care for him. That’s the sort of energy you want to transfer in. Then wish him peace.” 

Harry nodded. He drew a deep breath, then closed his eyes. He thought about the first time he’d met Dobby, caught him jumping on his bed at the Dursleys. Annoying at the time, but a fond thought now. How he’d dropped the cake onto that wretched guest… 

Harry told Dobby how good of a friend he was, how much he cared for him, and thanked him for all he did. Told him he deserved peace. Then, much like Draco had, he wished Dobby peace in death. 

“Remember to breathe.” Draco reminded softly, tightening his grip over Harry’s hands. 

A rippling warmth skittered through Harry’s veins, out through his fingers, and into the amethyst. When his fingertips grew cold, he knew it was time to stop. 

His eyes fluttered opened and he met Draco’s gaze. Heat crawled into his cheeks. 

Draco uncurled his fingers from Harry’s knuckles and slipped away. . 

“Now just place it on the grave.” Draco said. 

Harry turned back to it and did just that. The crystal pulsed lightly, glowing delicately from within. Harry sat back down. Draco inched closer, his shoulders a hairline from Harry’s. They sat there in a moment of silence and mutual bereavement.

 “…he was…my only real companion growing up.” Draco eventually said, “…after my sister died in that accident…he was all I had.” 

Harry glanced up at Draco. “You…had a sister?” 

“2 actually…one died before I was born…and the other when I was about 3 or so.” he sighed.

“I’m sorry…” 

Draco sighed, “I didn’t know her long enough to truly understand it…but after that it was just Dobby and I…” he looked back down at Dobby’s grave marker, “He made the manor less lonely….he was someone I could talk to, someone I could call a friend

Harry sighed. “He was my friend…and he gave his life so we could escape the manor that day…” 

Draco’s hand slipped away.

“I’m sorry for the part I played in that.” Draco apologized, “I’m sorry I did nothing back then.” 

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Harry replied, “I mean you didn’t reveal the fact that it was me even though you knew. And that bought us time. That counts for something, you know….Not to mention you refused to call Voldemort when I did reveal myself.” 

Draco averted his gaze. “Barely anything.” Draco replied. The waves crashed against the shore. A cool, salty breeze blew against the blonde’s face. 

 “...when Granger was being tortured…she called out for me. And I was too afraid to act…even though I knew it was wrong…and it was the most horrible thing I’d ever seen…”

Harry’s expression hardened. 

“Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can still hear her screams.” Draco confessed. 

Harry nodded, “Me too.” he said softly, “And there’s a part of me that blames myself for it. I dragged her into the Horcrux hunting mess. Even though I tried not to, it still happened.” 

“I could’ve stopped it…then followed you lot into the apparition warp when you escaped. Played a more active role instead of just throwing you a wand. Then maybe…maybe this wouldn’t have happened. If I could go back…there’s so much I would have done differently.”  Draco said. 

“Well, you can’t.” Harry said, voice sharpening, “And it’s over. She’s okay, but, you know it’s gonna effect her for the rest of her life…”

“I know…” Draco murmured meekly. 

Harry sighed, “Everything we’ve been through is gonna effect all of us for the rest of our lives. All we can do from here on is find a way to not make it worse. Figure out how to cope. Decide what we’re gonna do about it now…”  Draco dared looked back up into Harry’s eyes. 

The light in them was a faint flicker. He looked worn and tired– older somehow– than a boy of 17. Angled cheeks, a face hardened by trauma. Hardly the face of the bright-eyed boy he was when they met. 

“I’m sorry…” Draco whispered. 

‘...You know, if that’s really what you’re on about, then I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.” Harry replied, a bite in his tone, “...You and I have made our peace. And if you want to continue to make peace, that’s not a bad place to start. But it’s up to you.”  his expression softened, and he turned back to Dobby’s grave. 

The wind and waves filled the silence. 

Draco eventually did get up. He leaned closer to the stone, “Goodbye Dobby…” he whispered. He walked passed Harry and headed down the hill, closer to the water. Harry counted his footsteps in the sand. He stood for a few moments more, and then headed down towards the cottage. 

Bill and Fleur weren’t home- they were back at Hogwarts, but they had said he could visit anytime, so he took out his key and let himself in and took a glass of water. He sat at the small circle table and watched Draco out the window. He found Bill’s radio in the kitchen and put on the radio on low. He placed his wand on the table in reach. Watching, listening, for anything and everything.

It may have been peaceful, yes, but at the same time it seemed much too peaceful. 

 Harry flexed his fingers, processing the way that Draco’s hand had felt in his. A part of him wishing it was still there. He watched him out the window. Draco had removed his shoes and stood in the water. Harry reached into his pocket of his jacket and pulled out the Marauder’s map. He opened it up and spread it across the table. He picked up his wand, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” the map faded to life, allowing Harry to watch everything going on at Hogwarts. He took a sip of water then began to alter his gaze between studying the map and the beach front outside.

He was ensuring that there was no stray death eaters around. The clock on the wall tick-tocked in the silence. He glanced up at it. It was nearly time for the Death Eater Capture report. He needed to know where they all were at all times. 

“....The Ministry has captured Rodolphous and Rabastan Lestrange, two of the late Voldemort’s most dangerous death eater accomplices. The werewolf Fenrir Greyback was found dead, dismembered, and half eaten in the Forbidden Forest on Hogwart’s Grounds. A truly gruesome sight. We suspect it was the work of the centaurs or other creatures….In other news…the Dementors of Azkaban have been…”

That’s it? Harry thought bitterly, I could’ve done better than that. The Aurors need to step it up. 

The radio crackled on., “…Death Eater–

Harry stiffened. 

“...Death Eater Severus Snape…” The knot in his stomach unfurled slightly, “...has been stabilized at St. Mungos. Authorities say that as soon as he is recovered enough, he will receive a fair trial before the Wizengamot within the next month or so.” 

   Harry decided then and there he needed to make a point to go see him. And also to visit the Ministry. Harry looked back down at the map and then back out the window. 

As soon as he looked back out, his heart dropped to his groin. Where in the hell was Draco?” He jumped out of the chair, grabbed his wand and the radio, suddenly overcome with the terrible fear that something terrible had happened. 

However, the sudden foreboding abruptly disappeared when he saw Draco sitting farther down the beach, on a cluster of large rocks that went from the shore, out into the water. Harry swiftly walked towards him. Draco’s expression was neutral. 

“You know, next time tell me when you’re gonna go strolling all the way across the beach where I can’t see you.” Harry exclaimed, Draco sharply whipped his head towards him, glaring back. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything I don’t want to.” Draco replied, “And anyway, you disappeared too, might I mention. So don’t come at me.” 

Harry’s demeanor softened. “...Sorry…” he murmured, “I was just worried when I didn’t see you.”

“Worried?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighed, looking up at the rock, “I mean, there’s still rogue death eaters and such. It’s dangerous for anyone to wander off alone. Even if it is just down the beach. You and I are prime targets.” 

The color drained from Draco’s face, and he nodded meekly.

“Sorry for snipping.” Harry said.  

Draco shrugged. 

“Uhh…May I join you?” 

“I s’pose.” Draco replied. “That side’s the easiest to come up. It’s less steep. Still a bit slippy though.” he pointed to the side that was the opposite of where Harry stood. Harry returned his wand to the holster on his belt, and walked around the boulders. He began to clamor up the rocks, carefully, one foot in front of the other, grasping onto the rough surface. 

Moments from reaching the flat top of the boulder where Draco was, his foot slipped. His breath caught in his throat. He dug his hands into the rough rocks. The coarse surface sent a biting sting through his palms. However, he didn’t fall, because he was quickly caught by a firm, strong grasp. He found his breath at the same time he found Draco’s eyes. 

“I told you it was slippery.” Draco said. One hand reached across Harry’s back and grabbed onto his t-shirt. Draco pulled him up the rest of the way. 

“Thanks….” 

“I had half a mind to let you fall, but that would have been decidedly unpleasant.” Draco replied, “I’m glad I didn’t.” Draco returned to the edge of the rock, and dangled his legs over the ocean. Harry moved closer, but stayed standing. 

“It’s quite strange.” Draco began after awhile, “It’s so peaceful out here, it makes it hard to believe that we’re fresh out of a war…” 

“Yeah…”

“Even stranger still that it only ended yesterday…” 

Harry nodded. Yesterday felt like ages ago. 

“How are you feeling about it all?” Harry asked. 

“Like things will never be the same again.” Draco replied poignantly. “You heard my great aunt. You saw the tapestry. I’ve lost everything I’ve ever known. I can never go back. I’ll never be the same again.” 

“Neither will I.” 

“I don’t know what to do about it.” said Draco.

“Well, what do you want?” Harry asked, “That’s up to you to choose now.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been able to choose anything. It was always what my father wanted.” Draco replied, “So I don’t know.” a meek sound between a scoff and a chuckle “Pretty pathetic, isn’t it? A Slytherin with no ambition who doesn’t even know who he is anymore.” 

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.” Harry said. “I think you’re brave for what you did. And, like I said, you can stay at Gri,mmauld place– for as long as you need.” Harry offered a smile. 

The corner of Draco’s mouth tugged up for a fraction of a moment before falling back down. He turned back to stare out at the sea. He cast Harry a side glance, but then turned away again. 

“...I s’pose…I suppose there is one thing I want…” he began after awhile, “It’s something I’ve secretly always wanted.” . 

“What is it?” 

“... you…” Draco said.  

“Wait– What?” 

When he realized what he said, Draco turned bright red, “I mean–I merely meant that— I want to be on your side…I want to be…friends. Yeah. Friends. That’s it…slip of the tongue…” Draco averted his gaze.  

“Oh– well that can be arranged.” Harry assured, all the while finding himself wondering if Draco had meant something else. 

“Great.” Draco’s smile widened slightly. Harry smiled back. 

There was another short silence. 

“I-in that case…you can call me Draco.” the blonde said. 

“Same to you– you can call me Harry from now on.” Harry finished. 

Draco nodded. “Harry it is, then.” 

Chapter Text

(4) Message From the Stars 

For the next several days, Draco and Harry mostly kept to themselves. Draco spent a great deal of time either on the couch or in his room, pouring over complex books about ancient, traditional magic and rituals, about how to remove curses, some about the Zodiac Pantheon. And more than once, Harry found him reading The Tales of Beedle the Bard. 

He spent the rest of the time either taking long baths or taking short naps, for many of his nights were restless. He’d wake in the darkness, drenched in cold sweat from some night terror he couldn’t remember, but felt across every part of his body. It was much easier to nap during the day. He felt safer when he knew Harry was awake. 

Harry caught up on his studies, continued to organize the house, and avoided going to Hogwarts to help with the clean-up and repairs. He was also in the process over converting one of the spare bedrooms into a space for target practice. 

The radio was on most of the time as well, and Harry was always listening to reports. Death Eaters were being arrested almost daily now. 

-xXx-

One afternoon, Draco and Harry did end up in the study together. Draco was across the loveseat near the bookshelves. There was a blanket over his lower body and his was reposing against the pillows, using his legs as a desk whilst he read over yet another book. Harry was writing letters– one responding to Hermione, once more declining the invitation to go to Hogwarts and trying to come up with another excuse to go with it. He was also crafting an inquiry to Andromeda Tonks, checking in on her and Teddy. 

“I’m surprised that you haven’t gone back to the school.” Draco commented, lowering the book from his face, “I would’ve thought that was a top priority.” 

“For some reason, I can’t bring myself to go back yet.” Harry said, “It doesn’t appeal to me at all.” Actually, the thought of going back to Hogwarts right now makes me sick to my stomach. “I won’t be able to unsee it as the sight of a battle, you know.” 

“I know.”

There was a short silence.

“Do you think you’re going to go back and help with the cleanup at all?” Draco asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

 Draco turned back to his book. Shortly after, the silence was interrupted by the rustle of a page when Draco turned it. 

“What are you researching so diligently?” Harry asked, “I feel like you’ve gotten through at least half the bookshelf by now.” 

“If you must know, I’m trying to strengthen my magical abilities.” Draco replied, “But not in the practical sense– more in the…knowledge-base and…spiritual sense.” 

Harry furrowed his brows. “Spiritual?” 

“Yes.” Draco handed Harry the book he was holding. It was an informational text about the Celestial Pantheon. 

“What’s the Celestial Pantheon?” 

“The gods who gave wizards their powers. In layman’s terms, those would be the 12 Zodiacs. It’s said that if you strengthen your connection with the one you were born under, it’ll strengthen your magic– especially whatever magic happens to be your elemental affinity.” 

Harry studied Draco, even more puzzled. “Elemental affinity? I’m confused.” 

Draco huffed. “I was born under Gemini, so I’m trying to strengthen my connection with them. Gemini is an air sign, which means that my magical affinity is any spell or ability that has to do with air– such us levitation and Ventus.”

“Oh! That’s interesting. I’ve never heard of that before.” 

“It’s the sort of stuff we don’t learn at school.” Draco scoffed. “Not only that, but I’ve been having terrible dreams, and I’m hoping if I try to strengthen my connection with Gemini, the nightmares will stop and be replaced by messages and visions from them.”    

Harry nodded in understanding. 

“You, on the other hand– were born under Leo, which means that your elemental affinity would be fire, if you’re curious.” Draco added, “I suppose…that’s sort of what I want at the moment.” he said, “Before, I was never able to develop a connection with Gemini.” 

“Maybe because you weren’t free before.” Harry commented, “And air is a “free” element I guess.” 

Draco perked up, “Maybe you’re right.” Draco turned back to his book. Harry finished signing his letter and set it at the drying station at the window. 

Then he decided to take out the Marauder’s Map again.. He opened it up and spread it across the large desk, picked up his wand out of the quill holder and tapped it against the surface. 

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” the map slowly faded to life. 

“Fascinating.” 

Draco’s voice was suddenly brushing against Harry’s ear. Harry jumped. 

“Oi!”

“Hmmph. Now you know how it feels.” Draco scoffed. Then he scooted over to Harry’s side, “Care to explain this magical map to me?” 

“Marauder’s Map. My dad and his friends created it while they were at school.” 

“What are those footprints about?”

“Shows you where people are in the castle. For example, if you look right there,” He lightly drew his finger towards the Great Hall, “There’s Ron and Hermione.” Draco studied the map closely.

“Their footprints are moving towards the doors.” Draco said.

“Yep. They’re probably carrying something out.” he replied, “You can track anyone you want to.” 

“Intriguing.”  

“It also shows secret passageways. For example,” he pointed to one particularly spot, “Here’s the one-eyed witch passage– takes your straight to Honeydukes.” Harry continued, “And over here there’s another one that goes from the Gryffindor dorms to the kitchens. It shows me every part of the schoolgrounds that have been explored, even forbidden ones.” 

“I’ve been using it to make sure there’s no Death Eaters hiding about.” Harry said.  

Beside him, the radio crackled. Death Eater Lucius Malfoy is still nowhere to be found, but the Ministry recently captured Death Eaters Mulciber and Jugson. 

At the mention of his father, Draco’s faced paled. 

Harry stopped in his tracks and crossed them off a list taped to the desk's corner. Draco’s eyes wandered towards it. The names were either crossed off in red, or cross-hatched over in a black with a doodle of a skull and crossbones next to it. 

Draco couldn’t help but peer over his shoulder at the list and read off the names. The list was full, each name had some annotations written in three different handwritings beside them, alongside pictures that had been cut out from newspapers where applicable. . 

“You’ve been keeping track?” 

Harry nodded. “I created the list when we were hunting for Horcruxes.” Draco scanned the document again. Near the bottom of the list, he saw “Lucius Malfoy”, “Narcissa Malfoy”, and “Draco Malfoy” written. He turned ashy. 

“I see…” that was when he noticed the heart and the chicken scratch annotation by his name. The heart alone made his face rush with heat. There were question marks beside his mother’s name. 

“My mother isn’t a Death Eater.” Draco said, a sharpness in his voice, “She never took the mark. She only sided with my father, but she never pledged herself. Just because my father is, doesn’t mean– nevermind.” he huffed, and turned back to the list. 

“That’s why there’s question marks. She lied to Voldemort about me when he struck me with the killing curse. She saved my life.” 

“Did she?” 

Harry nodded. Draco’s expression softened. 

“What’s this rubbish?” Draco asked, indicating the notes by his own name. 

“The heart means ‘ally’.” Harry replied, “The annotation says, “‘switched sides’, no longer an enemy.” If the name is cross-hatched and have a skull by them, it means they’re dead. If it’s crossed off in red, it means they’re in Azkaban.” 

“Oh…” A bitter taste, like day-old, oversteeped tea was vile on Draco’s tongue. His stomach curled into a tighter knot. 

Draco pulled away, turning his back to Harry and digging his fingers into the arm branded with the wretched Dark Mark. The crackly voice on the radio cut into the room. “ ....In other news, former undersecretary Dolores Jane Umbridge has recently been sent to Azkaban for her affiliation with the Death Eaters, her involvement in the Muggleborn Registration Commission, and for possession of unauthorized magical items…” 

A smile tugged the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Serves her right. I hope she rots slowly.” he glanced back up at Draco, noticing the ashiness on his face. 

“What’s the matter?” Harry asked. Draco was still staring at the list and digging his fingers into his arm. Draco turned away. 

“I never wanted it. The Mark.” he said, “I never wanted any of it.” 

Harry looked up at him. Draco refused to meet his gaze. 

“I just wanted my father’s approval. I wanted to make him proud. Whatever it took.” Draco said, “So I pledged myself to the Dark Lord. Trying to do what was right by him– my old man. I see now how foolish it was of me. Fat lot of good that did me.” 

Harry had nothing to say back. Instead, he just drew his wand and pointed it at Draco’s name. 

“Nomen Evanesco.” the ink and the annotations dissolved into the page. 

“Why did you do that?”

“I believe you.” 

Draco blinked back the pesky needles behind his eyes “...Thank you.” he whispered, almost inaudibly. 

“That’s why you’ve been reading about ancient curses and marks, haven’t you? You want to get rid of it. Your Dark Mark.” 

Draco nodded slowly. “Eventually, it’ll fade from sight, but I’ll always know it was there. And I want it gone for good.” 

“Yeah, I’d want it gone too. If I was in your position.” Harry drew a deep, slow breath. 

SIlence. 

Moments later, the door creaked open. Kreature was summoning them for lunch. 

“Come on. Let’s go eat. We’ve been in this drab study all morning.” Harry said. He grabbed the radio, slipped his wand in his holster, and made for the door, lightly tugging Draco’s sleeve as he passed him. Harry’s touch sent a subtle ripple skittering across Draco’s arm. 

“You should eat a bit of something, mate. I know you’ve barely touched any food since you got here. Kreature’s always bringing half eaten plates to the sink.” he said, disappearing out the door, “Come have lunch with me, yeah?”

 Draco wasn’t hungry, in fact the thought of eating actually made him nauseous. But Harry inviting him to lunch was enough to get him out of the study and into the dining room. 

They ate deli sandwiches and a vegetable and fruit platter for lunch. Draco also had some iced tea. Harry had another glass of pumpkin juice. Draco also managed to convince Harry to play music instead of listening to the news station. 

“A letter came for you, Master Potter.” 

“Another one?”  

“Yes, sir.” Kreature croaked. Harry picked it up off the platter and opened it up. 

“Heya Harry,

St. Mungos is open for visitors now.. We’re all visiting Fred tomorrow, if ye want to come along, we’re going right around 10 AM. 

Hope to see you there, mate. 

Ron

P.S.: Minnie convinced my parents to let you bring Malfoy along too, if you want. As long as he behaves himself. 

“Do you want to go with me to St. Mungo’s tomorrow?” Harry suggested, “I’m going to join Ron and Hermione and them to visit Fred, but we could probably swing a visit with Professor Snape too, if you’d like.” 

“I don’t know about tagging along with the Weasleys, but I s’pose I wouldn’t mind visiting Professor Snape.” Draco replied, “Perhaps. Let me get back to you on that.” 

“Sure, yeah. No problem.” 

Right after lunch, Harry wrote back to Ron, cast a speed-drying charm on the ink, and then sealed up all three of the letters he had. 

“I’ve got to go and mail these before I forget. But for that I need to make a trip to Diagon Alley today. Ron’s letter is last minute. I was trying to put it off, but I can’t.” Harry said to Draco when they found themselves in the sitting room. Draco was thumbing through a music book at the piano, and Harry had just finished his daily patrol about the house, “Owl Post closes at five, so I’ve got to get moving. Up for a short trip out? It’ll be quick.”

“Umm…” 

 “I don’t think it’s a good idea for anyone to be anywhere alone.” 

“Quick, you said?” 

“Yeah. Twenty minutes? Thirty. Less than an hour. It won’t be long. We’ll take the cloak too.” 

“Cloak?”

“Invisibility cloak.” 

“Okay. I’ve got to send my mother’s wand back to her, anyway. I just need to change.” Draco replied, “You should too. Can I borrow some of your clothes?” 

“Sorry?” 

“I’ll be less recogizable if I wear your muggle clothes. You’ll be less recognizable if you wear wizard clothes.” 

“Uhh, okay.” 

-xXx-

On strange style swap later, they disapparated to Diagon Alley. When they arrived, Harry tugged the brim of his hat down, and Draco tightened the hood of Harry’s sweater over his platinum hair, and used a spell to darken some of the streaks. He also, once more, made another snide comment about the fact that he was not fond of the denim jeans. 

They stuck together, arm in arm, to keep the invisibity cloak over them both. 

Diagon Alley was not a ghost town, but it was not overly busy either. It was almost five when they arrived, so people were starting to return home. The only place that was still bustling was Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Harry opted to stop in later. 

They tucked into an alleyway, removed the cloak, and stepped quickly into the Post Office. There was a small, elderly wizard with a full, salt and pepper, white-turning beard and bright purple robes fiddling behind the counter. Pointy ears stuck up out of his spindly white hair, indicating some sort of Goblinoid ancestry.  

“Good eve– by my beard, why it’s H–”  

“Respectfully, sir, if you wouldn’t mind– I’m just trying to be in and out– low profile.” 

“Oh, certainly, certainly, my apologies.” 

“It’s alright. Thank you.”    

“It is a pleasure to meet you sir, I am Owlbert Sullivan. Sully if you like.” he shook Harry’s hand vigorously, muttering old wizarding blessings and thank yous before letting go. 

“What can I do for you this evening, sir?” Mr. Sullivan asked. 

“I’ve got to send off a couple of letters– and this parcel. I’ll need three different owls, as I’m trying to get these sent out in rush. I’m fine with paying the rush fee as well.” 

“Of course, of course. I’ll send my fast fliers as welll.” the man replied. He scuttled into the noisy back room. He returned quickly with three wide-eyed, Northern Saw-Whet owls perched in a perfect row across his whole arm. “Thompson, Timber, and Canterbury. Small and fast. Though Timber is known for being a bit clumsy in her landings, she is the fastest of the three and she will never drop a parcel….” he began to tangent off, partially to himself, about each of the three owls as he strapped and secured the letters and the parcel to them, and gave them addresses on the items, not asking questions when the third delivery was to Malfoy Manor.   

“Gods speed my little friends.” he said to them, and then sent them off through the window.  

“How much?” Harry asked, once Owlbert had bid his pint-sized letter carriers goodbye. 

“For you, Mr. Potter, no charge.”

“But sir–” 

He popped the lid of the candy bowl on the counter, “Take a sherbert lemon or two instead.” 

“Thank you very much.” 

Harry left him a tip, and grabbed the individually wrapped candies on the way out.  “Thank you again, Mr. Sullivan.”

“Any time, lad. Any time.” he said, and then promptly turned his attention to the letter on his desk. When he lifted it, Harry saw it was a personal letter addressed to Horace E. Slughorn, and opened with “My dearest Sluggy…”

-xXx-

 Harry stole another glance back over his shoulder, and then headed towards the door when he felt an invisible hand on his arm, indicating Draco beside him. 

“That old Postman– he’s Professor Slughorn’s partner of 65 years.” 

“Really?” 

Draco nodded, “He’s part goblin, like old Flitwick, so the slug had to send him into hiding.” 

“How’d you find out about that?” 

“My parents were talking shit, how else do you think?” 

“Right.” 

“Well, now with the war over, they’ll be able to be together again. Without having to worry about being killed.” Harry replied. 

They continued down the sidewalk, passing Eyelop’s Owl Emporium. Something white flashed in the corner of Harry’s eye. He did a double-take. 

There was a snowy owl inside, clearly visible from the window. For a moment, Harry thought it was Hedwig. But of course, with an aching jolt, he knew it wasn’t. 

“Since when does Eyelops have another snowy owl?” he thought aloud, “Hedwig was the only one I’d ever seen.” He tugged Draco’s arm, and they stepped inside. 

“Before you ask,” declared the aloof clerk from the small owl cages, “No, the snowy owl is not for sa-blimey. Harry Potter?” her demeanor softened immediately, “Welcome in sir. Please let me know if you have any questions.” 

“So, the snowy owl isn’t for sale?”

“No. She’s aggressive unfortunately. She did just finish raising up a healthy brood of owlets though. So if you want a snowy, I’m happy to show you those. They’ll be available for purchase next week, once we’ve finished training them.”  

“I see.” Harry replied, he stepped up towards her cage. The snowy owl fluffed her feathers. “What’ll happen since you can’t sell her?” 

“We’ll either have to release her, or…put her down. It’ll likely be the latter. She was born and raised at the store, she couldn’t survive outside captivity. She’s leaving the shop next week.” 

Harry’s heart ached. “I see…” he studied her. “She’s beautiful.” Harry reached towards the cage. The owl’s eyes widened. She fluffed her feathers more and clacked her beak in warning.

“She looks just like the one I used to have.” he said, “Spitting image actually…why’s she so aggressive?”

“I don’t know. Probably because she wasn’t hand raised like the other two in her brood.” she explained, “She was the first to hatch, and her mother raised her– so she just hasn’t really had the exposure to humans like the rest of the owls. When we accidentally sold her mother about 7 years ago, we think it may have traumatized her or something. Especially after her siblings were purchased. So she’s just been living at the shop. She’s a wonderful mother and she’s great with other owls. Just aggressive with humans. But we’re getting in a new female snowy that’s both wonderful with humans and a very successful mother of several broods.” 

Harry perked up. “You sold her mother seven years ago?” 

“Who bought her?” 

“I can’t remember, but I can go find out.” 

“Sure.” 

She disappeared into the back room. 

“Pottah, what are you doing?” Draco asked, “You said the trip would take twenty minutes. We’ve been out too long.”

“I’m trying to rescue that owl.” Harry replied. “Do me a favor. I’ve got some Owl treats in the pocket of those jeans.” 

Draco reached in and took out the little container. 

Harry opened it up and removed a couple of the treats. He placed them flat in his hand, and held them out to her, slightly opening the small cage she was in. She reared back. 

“It’s okay. Here. You want some treats? They’re a bit stale but–” she sniffed at them, stuck out her tongue, and then plucked them up with her beak, before pulling back into her cage again.  

“See. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Harry took another handful, and offered it. She took it again, slightly unfluffing her feathers. 

He started putting the treats away, but was stopped in his tracks when her beak lightly pecked against his hand.  

“You want more, do you? Alright.” Harry grabbed another handful, “Last bit.” She took it gratefully. Then asked for more. Then for a moment, she appeared to sniff at the air, and slowly, but surely, relaxed, “They were Hedwig’s favorite too.” .   

Seconds later, the door to the back opened. Harry quickly closed the cage and moved away from her. A soft coo left the owl’s throat. 

“So, according to the records, her mother was purchased about seven years ago by the Hogwart’s game-keeper, Hagrid.”

Harry perked up, “Really?”

The shopkeeper nodded. Harry’s heart lifted for the first time in months. 

“That means her mother was Hedwig.” he said, “My owl, Hedwig. Hagrid purchased Hedwig for me as birthday present. Which means that this owl is her daughter.” he turned back to the shopkeeper, “I know you said that she’s not for sale, but is there any chance you can make an exception? I’d like to buy her. How much?” 

“I…I don’t know if I can. As I said, she’s aggressive. We prefer not to sell aggressive owls. Liability and such.” 

“She wasn’t aggressive with him.” Draco piped in, “When you were mucking around in the back, he fed her treats and she warmed up to him in moments.” 

“You– what?” 

Harry nodded. “I’ll take her off your hands. I’ll pay extra. I’m even prepared to sign a no return agreement or whatever necessary paperwork I need.” 

The owl tugged the wires of the cage, fluffing her feathers and squawking like she was calling out to Harry. When he moved towards her again, she calmed down. 

“Let me go and grab my manager.” 

Moments later, she returned. 

“They’re going to high ball you with the price.” Draco scoffed, glancing warily towards the door. 

-xXx-

When the clerk returned, Harry was permitted to interact with the owl whilst being observed by the manager. They brought him into a back room and let her out of the cage. As soon as they let her out. She cowered in the corner for a moment, but as soon as Harry brought out the treats, she flew straight at him and perched herself on his arm. 

The manager was nearly moved to tears. 

10 minutes later, they were talking papers and fees. 

“Are you sure about this Mr. Potter?” asked the manager. 

“Yes. As I said, her mother was my companion for seven years before she unfortunately was shot down during a skirmish.” Harry finished signing the papers, one of which said that he wasn’t going to sue the shop or claim compensation should she attack him, and another paper stating a no-return policy on her. He also picked out some treats, food, and a nice big cage for her, alongside several other accessories– toys, a nice cozy nest, and such like. 

“For just the owl, you’re looking at about 350 galleons.” 

“S-sorry?” 

“350 galleons, due to her history and the everything else.” 

Harry hadn’t brought enough. And the bank was closed. 

“350, you said?” Draco piped in, “I’ve got it.” 

“Wha- no– Draco.”

“Just buy her silly little accessories. I’d like to get out of here.” 

“But–” 

“Consider it first month's rent.” Draco replied. 

“I wasn’t gonna charge you–” 

“This is a non-negotiable, Harry.” 

Harry’s cheeks flushed. They finished the transaction. However, as soon as they did, Hedwig Jr. refused to go back in that little cage, so Harry bought her a harness amd lead instead.  

“Enjoy your new companion.” the clerk called out the door. 

“Goodnight.” 

Draco nodded. They disappeared out the door, and disapparated back home, with a leashed, ear-nibbling owl and a bag of goods. Harry was a bit upset that they didn’t stop into the joke shop, but Draco was getting far too uneasy and anxious to linger any longer.

“Why did you do that?” Harry asked when they got back home.

“Because things were taking too long, and I was getting uneasy. And maybe I also wanted to save a life.” 

“Right. I’ll pay you back.” 

“Uneccesary. I’m the one that owes you a debt.” 

As soon as they reached the big sitting room, Hedwig Jr. flew across it and perched herself on one of the couch pillows. 

“So what are you going to call her?” Draco asked, setting the bag down away from her so she wouldn’t sneak anymore treats. 

“Something with H…” Harry replied, pulling the cage box out of the enchanted bag of holding. He took the pieces out of the box, and followed the instructions to assemble the mansion of a cage using magic. He glanced back at the owl, “I think I’ll call her Hortense.” 

“Hortense?” 

Harry nodded. “Hortense.” He finished setting up and decorating the cage. Then gave her some kibble and gravy toppers. She flew straight into the cage without question to eat. Harry closed the door.

“I’ll let her get acclimated. Then let her out again.” 

He sat on the sofa again and watched her. He sighed.

“It’s been nearly a year since I lost Hedwig.” he said, “When I was being taken from the Dursley’s she flew in and tried to protect me. She was struck with a killing curse moments later.” 

Draco sat down on the sofa a little bit away from him, “I’m sorry…”   

“It’s alright.” Harry replied, “...I suppose that’s why I was drawn to Hortense initially. As soon as she looked at me it was like…like it struck something. I felt an instant connection with her. It was as if, like, Hedwig herself was trying to make it happen from beyond the grave. I wanted to rescue her as soon as I found out she’d be put down. And after I found out she was Hedwig’s daughter, I knew I couldn’t leave the shop without her.” 

Draco nodded, “...By the way– I think I will go to St. Mungo’s with you tomorrow.” he said.

“Okay.” Harry nodded, “That’s alright by me.” 

“...So, what’s the schedule for the rest of the evening?” 

“Dinner whenever Kreature finishes making it, then– I don’t know– you up for wizard chess or something?” 

“Maybe. A game might do us some good.” Harry nodded. He stole another glance at Draco, unable to shake the probing, intrusive thought that wouldn’t stop telling him how much he liked seeing Draco in his gray zip-up hoodie.

“I like this jumper.” Draco told him, “I don’t know if I’m going to give it back.” 

“You’d better,” Harry replied, “It’s one of my favorites.” 

“I’ll just burrow it for a little longer then.” Draco declared. 

Harry rolled his eyes, fought back a small smile, and got up from the couch.

Chapter Text

Cruel Summer-Bardcore Version

(5) Birds of a Feather

Draco and Harry met the Weasleys in the main lobby of St. Mungos’. Molly greeted them with warmth as she always did. 

“Ahh, Harry. Thank you so much for coming.” she pulled the boy into a tight, warm hug, intercepting Ron and Hermione. 

“Hello, Malfoy.” Molly added, lightly squeezing him on the shoulder. Draco nodded meekly but did not say anything else. 

“Morning Mrs. Weasley.” he replied, “I see the whole family is here.” he commented. Bill and Fleur, Percy, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, George, Molly, Arthur– indeed every single one of them was accounted for. “My uh, condolences for the loss of your oldest..” 

A small smile passed over Molly’s face, “I do appreciate the thought, but Charlie is actually back in Romania, right as rain.” 

“Oh–” Draco flushed deep red. 

“That’s alright. It’s the thought that counts.” Arthur replied. There was a short silence. “Right, shall we head inside then, Weasley’s?” 

With a chorus of agreement, off they went. Draco lingered behind, and Harry went up to talk to Ron and Hermione. 

“How are things at Hogwarts?” 

“Good, we’re making a lot of progress,” said Hermione, “Everything should be repaired by the time school starts.” 

“McGonagall’s also special ordered this big plaque, to honor all of the fallen, but for the most part, everything’s just being updated, but it’ll pretty much look the same.” 

“They’ve also brought in light magic specialists to cleanse the spot in the the courtyard that Voldemort died on.” Hermione added. 

Harry nodded. 

“So are you coming back to finish out your last year?” Hermione asked, “McGonagall will be sending acceptance letters the same time she always does.” 

“What– go back to school?” Harry echoed, “I haven’t thought about that. I mean I’ve been brushing up on my studies but still.” 

“We’ve got time.” 

“...I was thinking about joining the Death Eater hunt, actually.” Harry said, “There’s still quite a few rogues that need to be caught.” 

“I considered it too,” Ron said, “But honestly– I think we ought to step back and leave that one for the professionals, mate. You’ve done your job.” 

“They’re not working fast enough for my liking.” Harry replied. 

“I agree with Weasley.” Draco piped in, “You’ve done your part, Harry. You should step back.” 

Hermione nodded too. “Minister Shacklebolt will handle it. And there’s already plenty of people who’ve joined the hunt. Including some of the members of Dumbledore’s Army. Neville rallied them.” 

“And whoever is left of the Order. That includes Mum and Dad.” Ron said, “There’s also an entire group of teachers that have gone out too. We don’t have to handle it anymore.” 

“The Ministry will see it through.” Percy piped in, “It’s not on you anymore, Harry.” 

“I just–I don’t know…I just feel like I’m a sitting duck or something. Not doing anything.” 

“You aren’t.” Hermione assured, “You’re taking time for yourself. Which is well-deserved. And so are Ron and I.” 

“I don’t know…” Harry sighed. He fiddled the Get-Well card in his hand. They stepped into the lift and took it up to the Permanent Spell Damage, Thickey Ward. 

It opened up to a cozy lobby. 

“Right this way.” said the apprentice healer, a young woman who looked like she could’ve been less than three years out of Hogwarts. She led them down to 404 and knocked. 

“Fred, it’s Anette. Your family is here to see you.” 

“Great. Send them in.” Fred’s voice on the other side was slightly tired, but was just as cheerful as always. 

She pushed open the door. 

“Hey Freddy~ you alright?” 

“Bored as the seven hell’s, Georgie, you?” 

“Glad to see you.” 

One by one, all the Weasleys filed in. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were last in. Draco lingered off to the side. 

“You coming, Draco?” Harry asked. 

“I don’t want to intrude on the family reunion. I’ll be up in the 5th floor tea room.” 

“You sure?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded. He pulled the gray hood of Harry’s zip-up further down over his eyes, and walked towards the lift again. 

“Then why’d he come?” Ron asked. 

“We’re going to pop in and see Snape after this.”

“Got it…” Harry watched the lift door close and then followed Ron and Hermione into the hospital room. Whem they got in, they found Molly hunched over the hospital bed, tightly embracing her son. 

“It’s alright, Ma. I’m fine, see…” Fred was trying to soothe her, but he was hugging her just as tight. 

“I thought I lost you.” 

“I know Ma, I know. But I’ll be fine. I’ll be home sooner than you think too…” he tightened his grip on her, and then she pulled away and smiled at him with all the love a mother could wear on her face. That’s when Fred caught Harry’s eye.

“Oi, there he is~” Fred said across the room, “The Man of the Hour, innit? Harry bloody Potter.” 

Harry smiled when he saw Fred, who, though slightly tired, was bright-eyed and sitting up. 

“Hey, mate.” Harry smiled, “Glad to see you. I brought you a card.” 

He walked over to the bed, passing a wheelchair, and handed it to him. Fred took it and opened it, laughing when he saw the humorous card and the hand buzzer inside.

“Ha. Good one, Harry.” 

“Sorry it isn’t much.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” 

“How are you feeling, Fred?” Percy asked. 

“Fine. Just wish I could be out already, you know?”

Percy nodded. 

“On the bright side, I’ve got less than a month to go. I might even be able to get out sooner.” Fred added. 

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear that.” 

“Oi, Ron– George told me you and Hermione are going around now. Congrats.” Fred smiled, “You’ve finally got yourself a brain.”

“Oi! Come on!” 

Harry and Hermione couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Good to see you up and alert, son.” Arthur patted his son on the shoulder, “Want to hear a joke?” 

“Depends on how bad it is, pop.” 

“Here it is.” Arthur produced something from the folds of his coat. 

“Tearable puns?” Fred eyed the piece of paper.

“Yes, each slip of paper is a pun you tear from the packet. Get it? Tearable puns because–”

“That was worse than the one in your letter the other day, old man.” Fred smiled. 

“I thought you could use something to entertain you.” 

“I got you a pocket-sized pranks kit to use to go with it.” Ginny added, handing him the bag. 

“Thanks, sis.” 

“You could use it to mess with the healers if they’re being too overbearing.” she whispered. Fred smirked. 

“Oi, Georgie, did you bring the goods?” he called over her shoulder. His twin perked up, “Yeah I did.” 

“Goods, what do you mean, goods?” Molly echoed. 

George sat down on the chair beside the bed, and pulled a folded up piece of parchment, “Schematic and prototypes. And some other things for it.” 

“Hell yes. Let’s see how you did…” 

“Schematics– what schematics?” Molly asked. 

“You didn’t expect us to keep his chair boring, did you, ma?” George asked, “Honestly.” 

“I really hope it’s not the “turbo rocket thrusters” I overheard you mentioning to your sister…” Molly huffed.

Fred and George merely winked at each other and began to talk about the customizations. 

“Wheelchair?” Harry echoed. 

The light mood in the room dwindled some. 

“Yeah.” Fred nodded, “After the explosion, the rubble crushed my spine and destroyed the nerves. The Healers are doing what they can, but it’s more likely I’ll never be able to walk again.”  

“Oh…I’m sorry…”

“Nah. It’ll be alright. It’ll be hard for a bit– but that’s why George and I are customizing the chair. To make it easier to get used to.”

Harry nodded. 

“Want to see what we have planned?” Fred asked, perking up.

“Sure.” 

The group spent a great deal of time in pleasantries. The injury didn’t seem to dampen Fred’s spirits, and his usual cheerful wittiness made everyone forget that they were visiting him in the hospital. And by the time they finished the visit, Harry was the most light-hearted he’d felt since the end of the war. They had a lovely time together, and the room was filled with laughter and pleasant conversation up until the healers came to tend him. 

-xXx-

Harry said goodbye to the Weasleys and went to join Draco on the 5th floor visitors’ area, to fetch him to visit Snape. When he found him, Draco had purchased flowers and a box of thumprint biscuits from the shop. 

“How was your visit with the Weasley twin?” 

“It was pretty great, actually. Being injured hasn’t shattered his spirits.” 

“That’s good at least.” 

Harry grabbed a snack, and then they went back to the main lobby to find out where Snape was. 

-xXx-

The Healer who escorted them to Room 13 on the Creature Induced Injuries floor was stone-faced and pale, especially as she undid the bolts. She cautiously pushed it open, “Uhh…Severus…Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Draco Malfoy are here to uhh…visit you…” 

The man was in hospital robes, bandaged at the neck. He was sitting up in bed, looking out the window. Something flickered and glinted on his wrists against the daylight bleeding in from outside. He peered over his shoulder with his usual cold gaze. 

“Send him in then.” Snape scoffed. 

She nodded vigorously. “You have ten minutes.” she said. They stepped in the room. She bolted the door and promptly hurried away. 

Draco was first to speak. With an air of haughty confidence, he removed his hood. “Afternoon Professor.”

“Malfoy?” 

“We’ve brought you thumbprint cookies.” He set them on the side table. 

“Yeah…and uhh…some uhh…flowers.” Harry crossed the room and swapped out the new ones for the dried ones that were there, tossing the old ones in the bin. 

“This is strange. I never thought I’d see the two of you come and visit me together. And willingly, it seems.” he said. 

“We’ve been getting on quite well, actually.” Draco reported, “I’ve moved in with him.” 

“You-I see.” a knowing expression– the kind of face that said, I know more than you do overtook Snape’s dour features. His dark eyes, which, now, to Harry, looked more of a soft, deep, dark brown than beady black, met bespectacled green. 

“Afternoon, Mr. Potter.” Snape said, voice absent of the usual scorn it had when he spoke to him. His was pale, worn, and sickly looking. 

“Afternoon…Professor…how are you?” 

“Alive, no thanks to you.” He reached across the sidetable for the box of biscuits, Draco graciously opened and handed them off. As he moved, Harry heard the rattle of invisible chains and saw something glint on his wrists. 

“What’s that?” Harry blurted out before he could think, “On your wrists, professor?” 

Snape’s face hardened to a glare when he looked down at them. 

“Magic inhibiting binds.” Draco said, “It keeps him from performing magic with his hands.”

“Right…” Harry replied softly. 

Snape picked up a biscuit from the plate, “We’ll see if I can actually keep these down.”  He took a small bite of the sweet.   

“So, what have the healers been saying, Professor?” Draco asked, “How long until you’re recovered?” 

“The healers said I’m “lucky to be alive”-- with scorn, as to be expected. Though, the snake’s venom may have permanently damaged my nerves. Not to a point of paralysis, but I supposedly won’t be able to walk normally again. For awhile, I couldn’t feel my limbs, but now sensation is slowly starting to return. And my hands will have a permanent tingling sensation in them. The antidotes have been fine, though not as well as I can make…Not to mention I’ve been horrendously sick to my stomach for the passed few days. As for my recovery, I have at least ten days, or more.” Snape said, “Though I’m in no rush. I’ve got Azkaban waiting for me at the end of this recovery. Shacklebolt has made that perfectly clear.” 

“You’re not going to Azkaban.” Harry cut in sharply, “I won’t let them.” 

Snape scoffed, with what Harry swore was amusement, “And what, precisely, do you intend to do to make that happen, Mr. Potter? You think that just because you’re “The-Boy-Who-Saved-the-World” you’ll be able to use that title to change their mind? That’s extraordinarily arrogant.” 

“No, but the truth will. I intend to be a witness for the defense in your trial.” Harry replied. 

Snape’s expression hardened, “Don’t you even think about telling the Ministry, Potter.”

“Not all of it. Just enough to convince the Ministry that you don’t deserve a cell in Azkaban. You should be pardoned.” Harry said, “I think…that’s what Dumbledore would have wanted too.” 

At the mention of his old friend, Snape’s face paled. “I don’t need you to get me pardoned, Potter.” He said, “Regrettably, you’ve already saved my life. So you’ve done more than enough for me.” 

“What do you mean?”  

“You just couldn’t let me die alone, could you?” Snape continued bitterly, “Despite everything I’ve done…You had to run to my side, and take my hand…” he shook his head, “So extraordinarily like your mother it physically pains me.” his voice, his demeanor, softened slightly, “When you did so, when we made that contact, whatever love that has protected you your entire life– some of it transferred over to me, and I was able to hang on to life by a mere thread. And now…I live.” he sighed. Harry couldn’t tell if Snape was angry or grateful or both. 

“...And I want to make sure you live as a free man,” Harry furthered, “Not hulled up in an Azkaban cell the rest of your life. I think…that’s probably what my mother would have wanted too.” 

Snape’s tight-lipped, cold expression dwindled more. He took another bite of the biscuit and peered out the window again. “Dunderhead…” he muttered under his breath. Though there was no scorn there. Not this time. Harry swore it was out of sheer endearing amusement. It was proven by the grin threatening the left corner of his lip. 

“If you don’t want to do it for Potter, Professor, do it for me.” Draco intervened, “I don’t… have parents anymore…not really…so I need some sort of older adult to keep me in line, don’t I? And you’re about the only option right now.” 

“I am aware.” Snape said, “Your mother stopped by earlier to visit me. She told me what had happened, and she wanted to know your whereabouts. Of course I didn’t know. But, she wanted me to give you this.” he strained to  pull something out from behind his pillow. It was an old stuffed owl– worn and well-loved. There were beads around its neck. 

“Lancelot? Why the bloody hell would she give you this to give me? I outgrew him years ago. Oh–” There was a note tied to it, “Right. That’s why…” 

“She imbued the beads with a calming draught, as well, she said. She insisted you have it. She’s quite concerned about you.” Snape continued. Draco glared at the stuffed animal.

“Of course now she shows she cares. Now that she’s only got my father left, she’s desperate for me to come back home.” Draco scoffed.

“I won’t say anything to your mother, that is up to you.” Snape said, “However, I do think you should at least send her a letter to let her know you’re alright, but it is not my place to make that decision.” 

“Sure, I’ll send her a letter. I’ll tell her I’m better off without her and father.” Draco said bitterly, “I’ll tell her I don’t want anything to do with my father and to leave me alone.” With one last glare at the note, he took the owl in his hands and violently thrust it into the front pocket of the sweater. Harry’s gaze altered between Draco and Snape, and his hand found the blonde’s arm. Draco’s demeanor relaxed. 

“And if that is what you see fit to do, then by all means. As I said. It is up to you. And you know where I will be for the next ten days, should you require anything from me.” Snape finished. 

Snape studied this display for a moment. Then he met Harry’s eyes again, expression bereft of scorn, “As for you, Potter…You saved my life, therefore, I owe you my allegiance. I am fully aware that I am the very last person you would seek out, however, the offer is the same. Especially considering that you and Malfoy suddenly appear to be birds of a feather.”  

Harry nodded. “Right. Thanks…Professor.” Snape nodded curtly. 

Several moments passed before it seemed that no one had anything more to say to each other. They wished Snape to get well soon, said they’d visit him again, and then dismissed themselves- side by side, perfectly in step. 

“Birds of a feather?” Draco echoed, “What does he mean “birds of a feather”?”

“No idea.” Harry replied, “Anyway. Since we’re out, do you want to grab a spot of lunch at the Leaky Cauldron before we head back?” 

Draco perked up. 

“Lunch? You and I? At a tavern?” 

“Sure, why not? My treat.” 

“I don’t need you to treat me, but I will go to lunch with you.” 

“Right, let’s go then. I’m starved.” 

The Leaky Cauldron was slightly crowded this afternoon. On one hand, it was annoying because they had to wait for a table, but on the other, it was nice because it was easier to keep a low profile. The room was cheerful, and they so happened to come on a day when there was live music too- vocalist and all, playing bardic style covers of popular songs. 

Harry requested a table in the back, away from the crowd, and Tom, the barkeep, was happy to oblige. He sat them across from each other at a small table in the corner. He placed two menus in front of them, before slipping off to help another customer. Draco began to skim over the menu, turning his nose up at most things. 

“I’ve never eaten here before.” Draco said, “What’s decent?” 

“Depends on your palette. I’m probably just getting a butterbeer and classic fish and chips. If you want something lighter– I’d go for the sandwich or the soup of the day or something. I believe there’s also a grilled chicken plate that’s decent.” he leaned over the table and pointed the items out on Draco’s menu. “I’d try one of those three.”  

“Hmm…” Draco read over the options, “It’s too hot for a soup…and I don’t just want a salad…so I suppose I’ll try the specialty chicken sandwich without bacon. That looks alright. But I don’t want chips though…” 

“You can probably sub in a salad.” Harry suggested. 

“I’ll do that.” 

Draco turned the menu to the back and began looking over all the drinks.

“...You know I’ve never had butterbeer before either.” 

“Wait what?” 

“I haven’t. It’s a….commoners’ drink so I never bothered to try it.” 

“You’re missing out. You have to try one.” Harry replied, “If you don’t like it, I’ll drink it.” 

“Alright, fine, I’ll give it a go, no need to be so intense about it, my gods.” 

“Sorry.” 

When the waitress came around, Harry had to stop her from revealing his presence to the whole pub. They ordered their food quickly, because she looked like she was going to burst with excitement.

“Could we also get two butterbeers?” Harry asked, “With a bit of salt in the foam?” 

“Certainly.” 

“Thanks.”  

The waitress witch scraped it on her notepad, and scurried off. 

The tankards returned moments later, with a “the rest of your food is on its way”.

Harry and Draco exchanged glances. Harry raised his tankard, “Cheers,” he said, “To…starting over.” 

“Cheers.” Draco replied, raising his own tankward. They clinked their glasses together, spilling some liquid onto the table. 

“Ack!” Draco hissed. 

“I’ve got it.” Harry picked up a cloth napkin and wiped it away. Then he took a big swig. Draco took a dainty sip. Harry leaned over the table and observed over his glasses. Draco took a moment to savor the flavor and followed it with another sip. 

“Well? What do you think?” 

“It’s good I s’pose. Yeah. I like it.” 

Harry smiled softly. “Brilliant. Glad you like it.” 

“What’s with the smoldering stare?” Draco scoffed, gripping to tankard with both hands and slightly cocking his head, “Is me trying butterbeer really that interesting to you?” 

No, you’re just nice to look at. Said Harry’s intrusive thought. He immediately turned red again. Draco raised an eyebrow. 

“Spoiled Rich boy tries commoner drink for the first time.” Harry said. “Skeeter would love that.”

Draco rolled his eyes, the corner of his lip tugging upwards. “I think she has far more interesting gossip she’d rather waffle on about, “Imagine what she’d say if she came here and found the two of us like this. The assumptions she’d make…” 

“Assumptions?” 

“The two of us– out in a pub, sat across from each other, sharing a drink.” Draco commented, “Just think about it.” 

Harry’s ears heated up. 

“I mean– it’s not like it’s a date, though.” 

“You’re right, but it could be.” Draco replied.

Harry turned bright red. Draco smirked, and took another gingerly sip of butterbeer.

“I mean yeah, but we never confirmed it was.” Harry replied, flushing deeper. 

From across the bar, a new song started, cutting into the awkward exchange.

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

You know that I caught it.

Bad, bad boy, shiny coin with a price

You know that I bought it…

“Good thing she’s not here, then. She’d have her nose all up in it. Then there’d be no peace at all.” Draco said. 

“Well…regardless of what we wanna call it, this is a nice lunch.” Harry said, smiling. 

Draco smiled back, “Indeed.” He took another swig of butterbeer, effectively getting foam on his upper lip. 

Harry’s smile widened, and a chuckle left his lips, “You’ve got foam on your face. How elegant.” 

Draco immediately grabbed his cloth napkin, and wiped it away. “You never saw it.” 

“It’s fine, you know.” Harry replied, “We’ve all done that. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Draco’s expression softened.  

Killing me slow, out the window

I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below

Wizards roll the dice, witches roll their eyes

What doesn't kill me makes me want you more…

-xxx-

“...You know, Harry,” Draco continued once he recovered from embarrassment, “Your face crinkles when you smile. It’s quite charming.” 

Harry’s face turned redder, “W-Well, what can I say? I do have a knack for charms, if I do say so myself.” 

Draco raised an eyebrow and gingerly sippled his drink again, “Was that meant to be a joke?” 

Harry frowned. “Maybe.”

“It was terrible.” Draco commented, unable to hide the smile brightening his face.

“I know…” 

Draco’s smile didn’t fade. 

Harry’s frown turned upside down.  

…And then their conversation spluttered off into shared laughter. 

-xXx-

And it’s new, strange and exciting,

It’s blue, the feeling i’ve got 

And it’s…

It’s a cruel summer...

-xXx-

Chapter Text

(6) The Archer 

Once they finished their lunch, the afternoon had risen high in the sky. They tucked behind the alleyway near the pub so they could apparate in a more secluded spot. Harry had said it was because he didn’t want to be detected in case any unfriendly eyes were lingering about. 

“This is a good spot.” Harry decided. They were tucked slightly behind the bins, “Ready?” 

Draco nodded. 

“Right then, let’s– oh shit– hold on– I just realized– I left our take out bag on the table– You alright if we pop back in for a moment?”

Draco leaned against the wall, “I can wait here. I don’t want to go back in that stuffy pub.” 

Harry nodded. 

“It’ll just take a tick.” he walked back around to the front again, leaving Draco in the alley alone. Draco drew his wand, and rapidly scanned his gaze around, whispering a quiet prayer to Gemini to protect him for that brief moment Harry was gone. He struggled to even his breath, tightening his grip on his wand. 

Laughter rose and fell when someone walked passed the alleyway. Then it was quiet. 

Much too quiet.  

-xXx-

“Well, well.” an unfriendly voice sounded from behind, “Lookie here, lads. If it ain’t the filthy little blood traitor Malfoy. RIpe for the pickens’” 

A scorching burn suddenly ripped across his arm. His heart dropped to his stomach. A scorched, gravely laugh echoed chillingly across the alley. 

Draco whipped around and tightened his grip around his wand, pointing it towards them. 

About three roughed up, ugly adults– who Draco knew for a fact were some of the rogue Voldemort followers, had surrounded him. One of them was fully adorned in death-eater’s garb. 

“About damn time we got you alone. We thought your bodyguard Potter would never leave.” said one.  

He recognized the masked figure, and ringleader, as Avery. And then Scabior, the snatcher. Crabbe and Goyle senior. Dolohov. A horrible, croaky laughter filled his ears.

Blood began to pound against his brain. He forced himself to hide his fear with scorn. 

“You’re clever,” he hissed, “Trying to ambush me in broad delight. Really witty. And you, Avery– stupid enough to wear your mask.” 

His voice was shaking. So was his arm. 

“Diffindo!” A jet of red arced through the air and slashed through Draco’s cheek, leaving a thin, stinging cut across his cheekbone. Draco winced. 

“Expelliarmus!” the wand that had cast the severing spell fell from Scabior’s grip.  

He snapped his gaze around, looking for an escape– but they’d blocked off both exits to the alleyway. 

“P-Petrificus Totalus!” Draco exclaimed. The curse flew out of the tip of his wand towards Scabior. Another jet of light from another one of the goons stopped it midair. 

A rasping chuckle like nails on chalkboard once more split the air. 

“Is that the best you’ve got, boy?” Scabior taunted. 

“Stupefy!:” the red light struck him in the face. He flew backwards and thunked into the side of the building closest to him. 

“Expelliarmus!” the disarm charm flew towards Draco. He ducked out of the way– into the path of another wand. 

One right after the other, the rogues casted curses, laughing as Draco dodged them. 

Another severing charm struck him in the arm. 

The rogues continued to taunt and tease. 

“Look how pathetic he is.”

“Hardly worth our time.”

“Oi, Avery, let’s kill him and be done with it.” 

“ Flipendo!” Draco shouted. 

He missed again. 

“Your little charms and jinxes are no match, little Malfoy.” Avery taunted. He raised his wand and nonverablly casted a green curse. 

Draco dodged it by a hair, and his resolve broke. He tried to flee, but one of the others quickly blocked his path. He went for the other one. 

“Reducto!” A jet of blue light exploded from Draco’s wand. It struck Avery’s mask and shattered it like glass. 

Avery winced as the fragments exploded in his face and temporarily blinded him.

For a second, the others were stunned. 

“Incacerous!” ropes shot out from Draco’s wand and grappled someone to the ground. 

“Stupefy!” he took out another one. Three left. 

“You little shit!” Avery’s voice bellowed. He was glaring at Draco through bloodshot eyes, with blood running down his face. There were fragments of mask imapaled in his cheeks. “ Crucio!” 

The red curse struck him in the chest, and then at once he was writhing and screaming on the ground like a wounded animal. Excruciating pain ripped violently through his body, his gaze swirled.

Avery’s maniacal cackle consumed him on all sides. Draco continued to writhe on the floor.

“That’s what you get!” 

Someone kicked him in the side, but he barely felt it. 

“ Finite incantatem!” shouted a new voice- a woman’s voice. 

The pain stopped. Draco scrambled up off the ground and struggled to catch his gasping breath.  

“Expelliarmus!” Harry’s voice came from the other side. 

“What the hell–” 

“ Stupefy!” A red light sailed over Draco’s head and struck one of the other rogues square in the chest, sending him crumbling to the ground. 

“Avery- you disgusting wretch. How dare you use the torture curse on my son!” Draco’s stomach flipped and over and imploded when he heard his mother’s voice. 

“Shut your mouth you–” 

“Silencio!” Avery was cut off mid insult when Narcissa struck him with the silencing charm. Narcissa stepped forward, eyes blazing, brandishing her wand. 

“You disgust me!” she snarled, “Your daughter is the same age as my son!” 

Draco regained his composure. The pain was gone. He reached for his wand. Hot anger and humiliation suddenly erupted through his veins. He felt Harry’s grip on his shoulders, but shook him off and stood up. .

“He’s a traitor! And so are you! Ferire!”  a spectral fist shot out from the wand and struck Narcissa in the solar plexus.

A violent gasp ripped from throat and she doubled over on her knees. 

Avery pointed is wand between her eyes. It was sparking green at the tip. 

“ Avada Kedavra!” 

There was flash of green, and time stood still. 

-xXx-

When the green haze cleared, Avery was a lifeless hump on the ground, staring at his killer with rolled, dead eyes.

Draco was standing in the middle of the cluster of prone bodies.  

Narcissa was frozen where she knelt, wide-eyed and stunned. 

“Draco?” she met his gaze across the alley. 

Tears spilled down his cheeks. His wand shook vigorously in his hand as a wisp of green smoke faded from the tip and vanished into the air.

“Draco…” was all Narcissa could whisper. She was too far anyone to read her expression. And all Draco did was take a step towards Harry behind him, unable to tear his gaze from the body on the ground in front of him. His hand cupped over his mouth. Bile bubbled in his throat. 

I killed him…  

Narcissa held out her hand, reached for him. 

“Draco, darling…” . 

What have I done? His mind screamed. 

Someone’s arms wrapped around him. 

“Draco, please…” Narcissa whispered. She gazed at him with swirling eyes. 

He couldn’t meet her eyes. 

“Draco…hey, it’s alright, let’s go…let’s go home.” Harry’s voice was a soft croon is his ear. Draco managed a curt nod. 

Another chorus of voices, followed by the rapid click-clack of running feet sounded from down the block. 

“Where’d it come from?”

Draco stiffened. 

“This way! Around the corner– next to the Leaky Cauldron !” 

Aurors! 

“Malfoy, drop your wand! Put your hands up where we can see them!” 

Narcissa turned to face the aurors, dropped her wand, and held up her hands in surrender. She turned over her shoulder to meet the eyes of the two boys.  

Draco and Harry disapparated before they could see the arrests. 

Instead, the last thing Draco saw was his mother’s eyes. 

Their return to Grimmauld place was engulfed with the worst silence there had been in a long time. They sat across from each other on the couches. Kreature tried to bring them tea. It went cold. 

“...I killed him….” Draco choked out, face ashy. He bent double over the couch. “I killed him…I didn’t think twice…I…I just…”

“....You did what you had to. He would’ve killed your mum if you hadn’t…” Harry whispered back. 

“She’ll be sent to Azkaban because of me…I know it.” Draco choked out, “She’ll take the fall for me without hesitation…she’ll say she killed him…”  

“But if they determine it’s self defense, they might pardon her…” Harry offered. 

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Draco exclaimed. 

Harry said nothing back. 

Draco twisted fistfuls of platinum hair and bit his lip. Burning tears dribbled onto his knees.

Harry couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, he just got up and moved next to Draco. He pointed his wand at the minor injuries. 

“Episkey.” he murmured. The cut on his arm vanished. 

“Oi, Kreature?” 

The elf perked up from where he was dusting the mantle. 

“Yes, Master Potter?” 

“Can you fetch me the first-aid kit from Hermione’s bag?” 

Kreature nodded. “Certainly.” 

“You weren’t in your right mind, either.” Harry offered, “You were fresh out of having the torture curse used on you.” 

Draco shook his head, “No, I knew exactly what I was doing…”  

“...But I doubt she’ll blame you for it.” 

“That doesn’t matter, Potter! You don’t understand!” Draco snapped. “That’s not the point! None of it is! I killed someone! And someone else is taking the blame!” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t have disapprated us from the scene! I would’ve gone straight up to the Aurors and confessed! At least then my conscience would be clear! And my mother wouldn’t be in custody– So what if I would have been arrested! I killed a man– I’m no better than them!” 

“You’re so much better than them! No to mention, it sort of serves them right, your parents! They deserve to be in prison! They were the ones who wrapped you up in this mess! If anyone deserves consequences, it’s them!” Harry replied sharply. 

Draco shrunk further into himself. 

“Look at me and tell me I’m wrong!” Harry demanded. 

Draco looked up at Harry and his eyes filled with tears. The tears poured down his face. 

Harry drew a deep breath and softened his voice, “I wasn’t about to let you throw your life away…” he said, “I didn’t want it to be ruined…especially because, well I feel like this is the start of something good between us…and I didn’t want it to be cut short.” 

Before he could stop himself, Harry was clutching Draco’s hands in his. For a moment, they met one anothers’ eyes. For a moment, Draco’s expression seemed to soften. Harry’s grip tightened.

Draco looked down at their clasped fingers, back up into Harry’s eyes. His face contorted with confusion. Inside, he felt his soul was being torn in opposite directions. 

“Who are you to decide what’s best for me?” Draco asked, voice turning bitter. “You may have saved the world, but that doesn’t make you my hero. You’re not.” 

Harry’s grip loosened. 

“You say you didn’t want my life to be ruined? But let me tell you something, Harry Potter,” he pulled back sharply and got up from the sofa, “My life was ruined the day I chose to side with you.” 

Draco got up from the couch, left the room, and headed for the stairs. Harry let him go. 

Chapter Text

  (7) It’s Gonna Be Alright, I Did My Time

His mother’s covenstead had never felt so hostile. Everywhere he looked, there were cultish masks and a sea of black cloaks. He felt he was being consumed by the dark. He was kneeling in the dead center of the horoscope circle with all its’ backward signs, and beneath him, a foreboding, celestial symbol drawn in blood. Nearby, a fine cauldron hissed and bubbled. He felt naked in the dark, dressed only in a black linen robe with loose sleeves. His skin was still clammy and flushed from the scalding cleansing shower he had been ordered to take before the ritual. 

“We’re nearly set, me lord.” Bellatrix declared from where she was watching the liquid in the cauldron. 

“Excellent.” the low, menacing hiss of a voice sounded from the shadows. On his other side, someone else was setting a folded mask and cloak in place that would belong to him once the ritual had been complete. 

Voldemort padded lightly out of the shadows, and joined Draco in the center of the ritual circle. Draco forced himself to breathe, to not show on his face the aggressive pummeling of his pulse against his chest and muffled in his ears. 

Draco knelt before him, and looked straight up into the cold eyes and the inhuman face of the Dark Lord. His stomach contorted. His body felt like gelatin. He dug his nails into his fists. 

“Draco Luciuss Malfoy.” Voldemort began. He loomed over Draco in the circle. Draco looked straight up into his eyes. 

“Do you swear to pledge fealty to me for the rest of your days?” 

Draco drew a breath, continued to hold his gaze. “I swear.” he replied, so soft it was almost inaudible. Voldemort’s forehead lines tightened as his non-esixtent brows moved. He narrowed his eyes. His mouth moved when he spoke an incantation under his breath. And suddenly, Voldemort’s voice was a worm eating into his brain, speaking to him from inside his own head. 

“Are you prepared to do whatever I say, under any circumstance, by any means, to cleanse this world of muggle scum and half-breeds? Are you prepared to commit atrocities to exterminate the blood filth? 

Draco slowly nodded. I am…

Good. You are doing well. Voldemort’s voice was an icy whisper in his ear. 

“Do you swear?” 

“By the honor of the Malfoy family name, and the sacred vow of the 28. I swear on my life.” 

“Magic is might.” 

“Magic is might.” 

“Hail the Great Serpent.” 

“Hail the Great Serpent.” 

Voldemort stepped back slightly, and his voice faded out of Draco’s mind. 

Some of the knots in Draco’s stomach loosened. 

“Give me your arm.” Voldemort rasped. 

Draco drew another breath in, and stuck out his forearm. Voldemort reached for it, wrapped his fingers around Draco’s wrist like a snake coiling its prey, and pushed up his sleeved with the other hand. Draco’s breath hitched. Voldemort’s grip was as frigid as ice, his fingers gaunt, and leathery, stretched to thin over his bones. He lightly raked his pointy nails across the soft inner part of Draco’s forearm, sending a horrid chill ripping down the boy’s back. 

Then Voldemort drew his wand, dug his nails into Draco’s wrist and drew his wand across the empty forearm. He began to speak in Parseltongue. It echoed through the stuffy convenstead and consumed it on all sides. The wand pulsed faintly. 

A light stinging sensation, hot like the feeling of a shower after getting out of cold water, rippled beneath Draco’s skin. Draco watched as the faint outline of the Dark Mark, appeared on his inner arm. 

A sadistic, cold smile of triumph broke across Voldemort’s face. Then, he pulled back and put his wand away, and stood up. 

Wait? Draco glanced around, confused. Was that it? He didn’t dare question Voldemort aloud, though. However, it seemed that the Dark Lord picked up the change in the expression. 

“It is now time to finish the ritual. There is one final stage to go.” 

Quiet, low, sadistic chuckles erupted from some of the surrounding Death Eaters. There was a flicker of movement from the back of the assembled crowd. Draco saw his mother leave the covenstead out the side door. 

“Bellatrix, bring the Dagger.” Voldemort said. 

Draco stiffened. 

The witch cackled, “Absolutely, my lord, my pleasure.” 

 Draco’s blood went cold. Bellatrix used tongs to life the dagger– still red hot– from the cauldron.  

“Severus, Avery, you will hold him still.” 

What…wait– what– Icy terror consumed Draco on all sides. 

Snape and Avery stepped, unmasked, out of the crowd and pinned him in place. They ensured his arm stayed exposed to the elements. 

When Voldemort wasn’t looking, the smell of stale black coffee passed through Draco’s nose, and a whisper barely audible, murmured across his senses. 

“This is going to be unpleasant.” Snape’s voice was suddenly in his head now, “I used an incantation to reduce the pain, but only just. You must endure it. Try not to scream, and do not beg them to stop. This is the real test of your loyalty. You must not fail. Or he will kill you.” 

Draco’s entire body went rigid in horror. Snape took his free hand. Avery roughly grasped him on the other side. 

“Hail Serpens.” Voldemort said. 

“Hail Serepns!” echoed the others. They joined hands, moved closer towards the circle. Engulfed Draco on all sides. 

“Magic is might! Hail serpens! Magic is might, hail Serpens!” their chants grew louder. Draco’s heartbeat rattled against his chest. Sweat beaded down his back. 

 “Magic is might, hail serpens! MAGIC IS MIGHT! HAIL SERPENS!”

MAGIC IS MIGHT! 

HAIL SERPENS!

Their voices roared through the covenstead. Richoeted off the walls and pierced through his skull like a vile worm eating his brain. 

MAGIC IS MIGHT!

HAIL SERPENS! 

EXTERMINATE THE BLOOD FILTH!

 The chantings suffocated him, consumed the room. The walls shook. 

They caved in around him. The world was spinning, burning….

Snape’s grip tightened on the boy’s hand. 

Bellatrix bent down in front of Draco, grabbed his arm. Then, with a sadistic smirk, pulled the dagger towards her face, and then sharply brought the seething blade straight down into the meat of his inner arm. 

-xXx-

Draco lurched off the pillow with a strained, rattling gasp. He was covered in cold sweat. The dark mark rippled and pulsed, and a phantom burning sensation of hot iron engulfed his left arm.

His eyes burned. His head pounded. His chest heaved violently as he clawed for air. It felt like someone was strangliing his throat. He was struggling to come up for air. The room around him was ink-colored haze. 

Suddenly, he caught a whiff of the calming smell of lavender. Through his blurry gaze, he saw Lancelot, the stuffed owl his mother had delivered to him, sitting on the nightstand. Then he became aware of the room around him again. The faint music down the corridor. The warm bed, the cozy covers…the soothing glow of scented candles.

His breath staggered to a slower rhythm. It was just another bad dream…just… 

The Dark Mark rippled under the sleeve of his silk pajamas. He tried to pretend it wasn’t there.

He reached across the nightstand and pulled Lancelot into his lap. The smell of lavender increased slightly, and once more passed calmly in through his nose with the next breath he drew. He pulled the plush owl towards his chest and tightened his arms around it. He curled into himself, held the stuffed owl as tightly as he possibly could and tried to calm down.

He reamined curled up like this for several moments– until he mustered up the courage to leave the room and head down towards the study.

He was going to apologize, and hope that Harry would be willing to let him in. 

He drew in a breath, trying to exhale away the horrible imagery plaguing his head. He left Lancelot on the bed, grabbed his wand, and pushed open the door. He followed the murmur of the crackling radio towards the study. The door was cracked just enough for him to see in. 

Harry was hunched over the desk, sleeping on top of the Marauder’s map, with his hand loosely gripping his wand, and his glasses knocked askew. His dark fringe whisped into his face, and the way his cheek rested against the paper accentuated the chiseled line of his jaw. His shoulders rhythmically rose and fell, with the slow, deep exhalations of his breathl. The radio hummed and crackled. His five o’clock shadow was roguish and handsome in the warm glow of the candlelight. Draco took a moment to drink Harry in.

The knots in his stomach unfurled and faded into the brush of butterfly wings. Draco’s fingers twitched with the urge to brush aside, brush through Harry’s dark fringe. But he stopped himself. 

Instead, he drew his wand and pointed it towards the spectacles. He couldn’t imagine they’d be comfortable to sleep in.

“Accio glasses.” he whispered. A draft of air passed around Harry’s face and tousled his fringe. Harry’s nose twitched and crinkled in his sleep. The glasses slipped off his face into Draco’s waiting hand. He set them aside. He beheld Harry’s handsome features without any obstructions. He swooned. He’d always thought Harry had been good-looking, but now– he was, in Draco’s opinion, ridiculously handsome. 

I wonder if he thinks the same about me… 

His stomach dropped again. Wishful thinking. Even if he did, whatever could have been is most likely ruined after how despicable you acted this afternoon. Your burned those bridges to the ground before you even got to cross them. 

“I’m sorry…” Draco whispered, voice a soft hiss against the air.

His only response was the deep breathing of someone in REM, and the voices on the radio. 

…This afternoon, Death Eaters Crabbe, Goyle, and Dolohov, and former snatcher Scabior, were arrested by the Ministry. Additionally, Narcissa Malfoy, Matriarch of the House of Malfoy, was also taken into custody due to her affiliation with the Death Eaters and for performing the Killing Curse on the known Death Eater, Adrianos Avery, who was found dead at the scene. Malfoy immediately confessed to the crime, but claimed that it was done so in self-defense. She will stand trial before the Wizengamot— 

The radio was cut off when Draco switched it to one of the music stations. He couldn’t stand the sound of the reporter talking about his mother as if she were some common criminal– 

They have no idea how noble her actions were back there…

But what about all the things she hadn’t done for you? She protected you from being arrested and sent to Azkaban– but what did she do to protect you from the Purists? What did she do when her own sister was carving a brand into your arm? She walked away…

A storm of convoluted and contradictory feelings flooded his mind. He glanced back at Harry as he slept. 

Your parents are the reason you ended up in this mess. If anyone deserves consequences, it’s them! 

Maybe…maybe he’s right… 

Draco cast a sidelong glance at Harry. He continued to sleep peacefully. Draco sighed.  He inched closer to the desk. Harry had a blanket sliding off his shoulders. Draco carefully adjusted it, then picked up a quill and parchment. 

He wrote in prim, proper penmanship. 

Harry,

I’m sorry for being a prick. I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said. I hope we can come back from this. 

Sincerely, 

Draco 

Then, he cast a small gust of wind to dry the ink, folded the note in half, labeled it, and slipped it carefully under Harry’s arm. Then, he proceeded to move to the loveseat, grab the guilt from the back of the couch, pick up one of his books. Read to distract his mind. With any luck he’d fall asleep peacefully. With any luck, he’d be awake long enough for Harry find the note.  

Neither of those things happened. 

 Harry jolted awake. There was a freezing hand clamped tight around his throat, squeezing the breath from his lungs. His heart heart was pummeling out of his chest. His sweat was soaked through to his skin, icy to the bone. Pain roared in his skull — a deep, blinding throb that turned the world around him into a smeared, spinning mess. He clawed for breath, each gasp a desperate, ragged attempt to suck in air. His chest heaved violently. He struggled for air…

He was back again– Voldemort was BACK! He had forgotten a horcrux! Where’s Ron and Hermione!? Why can’t I see– where– 

The soothing sound of the soft music on the radio cut off his rampant panic.

Ron and Hermione’s names stuck out on the Marauder’s map– safe and sound in the Gryffindor common room. 

There was no forgotten Horcrux. 

The room smelled like musk and pine. Candle…then…

Draco. Draco on the loveseat across the study, looking up from his book, expression neutral– gentle even. 

And that. That, for some unknown reason, was enough to bring the intensity of his raging emotions down.

“You had one too?” Draco asked. 

Harry nodded, “I haven’t had any since I beat Voldemort…but I guess the encounter with the Death Eaters was a bit of a mind fuck.” 

Draco nodded. “I was no better off…I also had one.” 

They faded off into silence. Harry moved his arm. As soon as he did, he heard the rustle of parchment beneath his arm. When he lifted, he saw the note Draco had left him.

“What’s this?” he picked it up, “I don’t remember this being here when I fell asleep.” He opened it up and gave it a read over. Then he glanced up at Draco. 

As soon as they met gazes in the sultry light, Draco turned his face away. 

“You’re sorry for being a prick?” the corner of Harry’s mouth twitched slightly upward. Draco nodded. 

“I accept your apology.” Harry said, “I’m sorry too. I realized I may have been a bit harsh considering what had happened.” he replied, “Are you alright?” 

“As you said, the Death Eater encounter fucked with my mind, too. I’ll be alright, in due time. But right now? Not really.” 

Harry nodded, “I’m with you there.” 

Another Pinter pause filled the room around them. The music on the radio played on. 

“Where’s your house elf?” Draco asked.

“He went to sleep for the night. At least that’s what he said he was doing.” Harry replied, “Why?”

“Well, when I had bad dreams when I was younger– Dobby would sneak me down into the kitchen, and he’d make me warm milk with cinnamon and honey. It never failed to calm me. Especially after I lost my sister.” 

Harry nodded. “Well, I’ve got all that stuff in the kitchen. We could go make some. That actually sounds good.”  

“It’s 4 in the morning.” 

Harry shrugged, “Not like we have a curfew or anyone else in the house to tell us not to. Come on.” Harry covered a yawn with his hand, and got up from the desk. “Come on, Draco. I think it’ll do us both good.” Harry dragged himself up, grabbed the radio, and sleepily lumbered towards the door, still with the blanket around his shoulders. Draco put down his book, and followed.

-xXx-

They went all the way down to the chilly basement kitchen. As soon as they arrived, Harry used a fire spell to light the stove burner, and then placed a small pot on top of it. Then, he went to the icebox and took out the container of milk. 

“It’s almond milk, is that alright?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded, “That’ll probably taste even better,” 

Harry pulled it out of the fridge, and poured it into the saucepan warming up on the stove. Then, instinctively, he began to move about the kitchen. 

“What did you say it was? Honey and what else?” 

“A bit of cinnamon.” 

Harry reached up into pantry, pulled out the honey, and then plucked the cinnamon from the spice rack. Draco got out two mugs from the cup cupboard. They waited in quiet, for the milk to heat up. 

“He never heated it until it was boiling. He heated it to a warm, drinkanble temperature.” Draco reported.

“Yeah, I thought as much.” Harry replied. 

Draco sat down at the table with a sigh, and let himself take in the scene around them. 

“So what was your bad dream about?” 

Harry stiffened, and turned over his shoulder, gaze sharpening. 

“If you feel so inclined to discuss it.” 

“Do you really want to know?” 

“I asked, didn’t I?” 

“Fine.” Harry sat down across from Draco, at a spot where could still keep an eye on the simmering milk in the corner of his eye, “I dreamt he wasn’t really gone.” 

Draco’s face drained of its color. 

“That there was an 8th Horcrux we forgot. And he came back.” 

Draco’s stomach twisted into knots. “Thank gods it was only a dream. But that must have been awful…must have been horrifying.” 

Harry nodded, “I’d been sleeping fine, then that happened. The Death Eater encounter triggered it.” 

Draco nodded, “I know. It did the same for me.” he drew another breath, “But…it’s all just a bad memory now. That’s what Dobby used to say.” 

Harry nodded. “And there is no 8th horcrux. We destroyed them all. All seven.”  

“Seven?”

Harry nodded, “We hunted down every last one of them.” he explained, “The Diary your old man smuggled into the school by taking advantage of Ginny our second year. I destroyed that one 2nd year. Then there this old ring– Dumbledore got rid of that one. But the rest– Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, Ravenclaw’s diadem, Nagini, me…all of them– and me– were Horcruxes too. That’s where we were last year– out hunting them all. And destroying them. That was the only reason Voldemort was destroyed. Because we managed to destroy every one of them.” 

Draco’s brow furrowed, “That doesn’t make sense. You said you were a Horcrux– so how was the last one destroyed if…I mean if you’re still here?”

“Well, let’s just say that I’ve survived the Killing Curse more than once now.” Harry replied. 

“Oh…I see…” 

“It didn’t hurt or anything. There was a flash of green, contact…then all of the sudden I had this vivid vision play out in my head, and then the next thing I knew, I came to and your Mum was right there by my side, asking me if you were still alive. She lied to Voldemort’s face– told him I was dead when I wasn’t. Next to your stunt during the stand off, that was one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen. Among others.” Harry drew in a deep breath, “You mean you didn’t know about them?”

Draco shook his head, “We knew there were items that were important to him. But never why. He would never share such information.” 

Harry nodded. “But, as I said, just a dream. I’m just glad it’s over. Still, after everything I’ve been through, that doesn’t mean all’s well and end’s well, you know.”

“It doesn’t mean you’re okay.” Draco added, “It doesn’t mean any of us suddenly are…it’s gonna take awhile to get used to it.” 

Harry nodded. 

“Contrary to what I said earlier, I am grateful you took me in.” Draco said, “And I didn’t mean what I said…about you ruining my life.” 

“I didn’t think you did.” Harry replied, “It was a shit show all around.” 

Draco nodded. 

“...And I don’t look at you differently just because you used the Killing Curse on someone. I forgave Snape and he killed DUmbledore. As for you, all that really did was give the Aurors one less Death Eater to hunt down.” Harry said, “And anyway, serves the bloody bloke right. Who knows how many he killed. The ends justify the means, you know.” 

Draco did not look convinced, in fact, at the mention of the earlier incident, he seemed to close himself off again, pulling back, averting his gaze. 

Silence. Nothing but the hiss of the flame, quiet music. 

“....Sorry about your mum.” Harry said.

“Thank you.” Draco replied.

“...I’m not sorry about your father.” 

Draco shook his head. “No. Neither am I. It was his fault, anyway.” Draco said, “Let’s just say as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized his true colors.” 

Harry nodded. He’d known them all along. 

Draco pulled back the sleeve of his pajama shirt. He stretched his hand across the table, “See this?” he drew a finger across a strange white scar– is looked like it was leftover from punctures made by the fangs of some sort of creature. 

“That was from his wretched cane. 2nd year he did that. He didn’t want me to touch anything in Bourgin and Burkes. I didn’t listen. So he gave me that.” Draco said. Harry’s face hardened. Instinctively, he grasped Draco’s fingers, pulled his hand closer, ran his thumb across the puckered, white flesh. 

Draco’s tense posture seemed to somewhat relax at the feeling of the rough, calloused fingers across the back of his hand. 

When Harry realized what he was doing, he turned bright red and quickly pulled away. “...Sorry…” 

Draco caught Harry’s fingers before they were out of reach. “It’s alright.” He rested his face in his other hand, and smiled at Harry in the candlelight, “I don’t mind.” 

His skin is so soft. Harry’s mind prodded, You wouldn’t think a bloke would have soft hands….but it’s nice….he’s got nice skin… 

Harry’s face flushed in the candlelight.    

 Draco’s fingers twitched. “That was one of his favorite ways to discipline. Hitting me with that wretched thing.” 

Harry stiffened. He forced down the anger bubbling inside. 

Draco’s face hardened, “I’m glad Voldemort broke it off of my father’s wand, actually. Probably the only somewhat good thing he ever did.” 

Harry’s expression hardened. Draco noticed this and pulled away, averting his gaze in shame. How dare I even hint that he was capable of doing anything good… 

“But of course, it doesn’t make up for all the other terrible things…” Draco sucked in a breath, “I’m glad you survived that curse. I’m glad you destroyed him.” 

“Me too.” Harry replied, “And I’m glad you made it too.” 

Draco managed a poignant smile. Cast Harry a look that went straight through the brunette’s heart and sent it aflutter. And for a moment, they sort of just…gazed into each others’ eyes. They each thought the other's were beatuiful. They held hands across the table while the White Witch serenaded the moment through the radio. 

Yes, I carry this feeling

When you walked into my house

That you won't be walking out the door…

Lovers forever, face to face

My city, your mountains

Stay with me, stay…

Harry took in the bits of pale blue, speckled like crystals through the stormy gray– hypnotic swirling. Draco did the same, counting the speckles of gold in the green. Sun-dappled plants in spring. 

You're in the moonlight with your sleepy eyes

Could you ever love a man like me?

You were right when I walked into your house

I knew I'd never want to leave …

They started to inch closer, or so Draco swore. As they leaned in, every part of him was holding back. Whether it was the fatigue-induced delirium, or the desire to be close to someone, all Draco wanted to do was tell Harry, in that moment, how he felt about him. How he’d always felt about him. Kiss those chapped lips. So much so, he failed to hide that, and he found himself glancing at them, and back up. 

Harry’s flush deepened. Brows furrowed, but eyes locked on Draco’s. He stole a glance at the blonde’s lips too– tried to be subtle— but it was written all over his face. It wasn’t hard to clock such a look. And Draco was more than perceptive. 

….Yet, the logical side of him knew that this was about 20,000 leagues from the opportune moment. 

So he stopped, and pulled back, readjusting his back on the chair. 

“Ahem…anywyay…” Harry got up, fingers slipping from Draco’s and moved to the stove. He checked the milk. “I think it’s about done.” he reached for the cinnamon, and popped open the cap. He shook it over the milk a couple times. 

“That’s not near enough.” Draco piped in. With a fluid motion, he got up and approached Harry from behind, plucking the cinnamon from his hand. He shook the container a few more times, shoulders brushing Harry’s when he did.

“That’s better. Now you can stir it up.” So, Harry carefully mixed in the cinnamon, then reached for the honey. He took off the twist cap and then twisted the honey dipper into the container. He then proceeded to pull it up and out. Now that it was full, he moved the honey dipper towards the pan and tried to put the whole glob of honey in the middle. 

“No, no! You’re doing it wrong.” Draco declared. Harry stopped in his tracks.

 “You can’t just glob all the honey in like that– it’ll gather on the bottom and then you’ll get a mouthful which won’t be pleasant– you’ve got to spread it around– swirl it.” 

Draco reached around Harry and took his hand, “like this..:” Draco pressed against Harry, then folded his fingers over the other boy’s knuckles. He guided his hand in an anti clockwise motion, swirling the honey into the milk. “…it’ll evenly distribute the flavor better– it’s like mixing a potion, you can’t just throw things in, you’ve got to do it carefully, with purpose..” He shifted, chin ghosting the top of of Harry’s shoulder as he peered over his back at the milk in the pan.  

Harry nodded, and continued to let Draco guide him. His heartbeat thrummed rapidly against his rib cage. His breath quickened. He tried to focus, but all he could think about was the fact that Draco was pressed up against his back, surrounding him on all sides. He was so close.. 

As they stood like this, that feeling of butterflies fluttering in his chest became a swarm. Draco’s breath was soft against his ear. His touch was warm and welcoming. Harry shifted- whether it was to readjust or melt towards Draco, he wasn’t sure, all he knew was that he did not want this moment to end. 

 Draco melted into Harry’s back, and continued to guide the stirring, “see…just like-“ that was when he felt Harry shift against his chest, and when he realized how close they were, “…this…” Draco’s heartbeat drummed so hard, Harry felt it against his shoulder. Draco’s breath quickened. His hand grew clammy, his face heated furiously. Harry melted against him.  

Their pounding hearts beat as one whole. The rate of their quickened breathing was the same. A gentle heat embraced their frames. 

It was warm like this. The warmest Draco had ever felt in his life. A slow bubble rose up from the honey-swirled milk. 

The warmth was the perfect shield against the frigid basement air. 

“Sorry I…Uhh….I think it’s done….” Draco murmured, eventually loosening his hand and pulling it back, “you may want to turn off the dial…. 

“Ahem. Right…” Harry reached for it, Draco did the same. He reached around Harry’s side. Their hands met at the dial.

 Draco turned off the flame. “We don’t want to…burn it.” he pulled away, arm brushing across Harry’s side. And then stepped back, “I’ll get the mugs.” 

He was gone from Harry’s back. And the air was cold again. Harry used a ladle to portion the milk and honey. Then, they sat down across from each other, in a pink-cheeked quiet, and sipped on their warm drinks, stealing glances over the rim of their cups. 

“Sorry…” Draco finally said, “I guess I got a bit over zealous about it…” 

“It’s fine.” Harry replied, “I don’t mind. It just caught me a bit off guard, that’s all.” 

Draco’s tense shoulders relaxed slightly. 

“Well, that’s alright then.” They smiled bashfully at one another. Harry took a sip of the warm liquid. It slipped smoothly down his throat and delicately warmed his insides.

“...Yeah this is good. Dobby had it right making this.”

Draco nodded. “He did.” 

They sipped their warm milk and honey in that chilly basement, which suddenly felt a little warmer than it had when they got down to it. 

“So, what was your nightmare about?” 

The color drained from Draco’s face again. 

“I dreamt…of the day I got the Dark Mark.” Draco replied, “I awoke before the worst part, but, yeah…it was this formal ritual– this, test of sorts. First, we had to bathe in this potion– it was meant to cleanse you and purify your blood or something. Then, they put me in this thin, black linen robe. They brought me into my mother’s covenstead. They were all there– in their masks– watching.  I had to sit in the middle of a Horoscope circle drawn in blood. The signs were all backwards. There was a symbol in the center I didn’t recognize. Then, Voldemort joined me in the circle. The rest of them joined hands, gathered around. I had to swear my loyalty. Then allow him to use Legilimens on me. He spoke to me in my head. All the sudden his voice was all I could hear. And then it was over.” he breath quickened. His hands began to tremble. “Neither of my parents were there. My father was incarcerated at the time…and my mother left the room before it happened…he spoke in parseltongue…Then…”

His hands shook in the candlelight. The liquid sloshed dangerously. The discussion sent a faint burning sensation of the hot knife rippling back over his arm. 

He drew a deep breath, “The actual ritual began. He instructed…he instructe two of them to—” his trembling voice trailed off when lost the words on the tip of his tongue. He averted his gaze, “...Snape and Avery. To hold me down…then….” hie breath was only quickening. His stomach turned. “...I remember Snape– Snape, he– he— he cast some sort of spell– to reduce the pain or something then— then told me not scream…”

Harry’s brows knitted together. He set the mug on the table. He was leaning in, listening intently. 

“And they all started chanting. Then my aunt Bellatrix came over, and she…” Harry reached across the table, folded his hands over Draco’s, and peered into his wide, distracted eyes. They were dilated with fear, like he had seen some sort of bad omen.

 “She…she came over then…with her knife…her knife was with her…fresh out of the cauldron…to use then…then she….” 

Harry squeezed his hands.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me the rest. I think I can figure it out…” 

Draco shook his head, “I’ve nearly finished talking…I…” He tried to calm himself down. He had to take several deep breaths. “...I awoke just as she brought down the knife…thank stars I didn’t have to relive the rest of it…” 

Harry held Draco’s gaze. Draco quickly averted his eyes in shame. 

“...Ever since then, the nightmares haven’t gone away…” Draco explained. 

Harry nodded, “If Dark magic was involved it only makes sense. It always leaves traces.” 

Draco squeezed his arm, phantom pains still pulsing.

“...Is there anything I can do to help?” Harry asked. 

“Unless you can make the Mark go away, no.” Draco replied, “But not even the most powerful wizard can. It’s a permanent scar.” 

“Then that makes two of us.” Harry tried to empathize, once more pulling back his fringe to reveal his lightning-bolt scar. 

Draco managed a meek ghost of a smile back. 

They finished the milk and honey in silence. Then climbed the stairs back to the main floor of the house. When they arrived, the early rays of sunlight were bleeding in through the windows. 

-xXx-

It was the first of several shared nights of nightmares soothed by milk, honey, and the company of one another. 

Chapter Text

(8) A Single Glimpse of Relief

The Daily Prophet Broadcast, May 29th, 1998. 

“After a two-day trial, the Wizengamot has ruled that Narcissa Malfoy killed Death Eater Adrianos Avery in an act of self-defense. She has been cleared of murder charges, however, she will still serve 18 months in Azkaban for affiliation with Death Eaters…

In other news, a dozen more Death Eaters have now been captured and incarcerated in the cells of Azkaban. The numbers are steadily shrinking, and our hope is that all Death Eaters will be imprisoned prior to the start of the Hogwarts 1998-1999 school year…. 

The Daily Prophet, June 1st, 1998  

NARCISSA MALFOY released from Azkaban with 30,000 Galleon Bail. 

“Earlier this morning, war criminal and Death Eater loyalist, Narcissa Malfoy, was bailed out of Azkaban by an anonymous source. Authorities agreed to the bail because she had no previous criminal history…

She was later escorted back to the Ministry, where she was picked up by an undisclosed family member, who also wished to remain anonymous.” 

With a rustle of paper, Draco folded the Prophet in half and lowered it from his face. “You wouldn’t happen to be the anonymous source, would you, Harry?” 

Harry finished pouring the coffee from the pot and sat down across from him, “No. I had nothing to do with that. It was probably your father.” 

Draco shook his head, “No. It wouldn’t have been. My father is hiding from the Ministry. He wouldn’t have done anything to compromise that, not even bail out his own wife. It’s possible he hired someone to do it, but that isn’t likely either. He lost his influence, he doesn’t have many cold partners left. Not to mention he hardly does anything but drink these days. He probably isn’t even aware she got arrested and released.”  

“Have you heard from him?” 

“Of course not. As I said. He’s in hiding. He’s dropped off the face of the map and he shan’t be back any time soon.” 

“Who else do you think could have bailed her out?” 

“I don’t know. It wasn’t me. The only other family she has is Andromeda, her estranged sister. But they’ve never spoken or written a word to each other.” 

“Andromeda? Really?”

Draco nodded. 

“I didn’t know they were siblings.” Harry replied, “I’ve been in contact with Andromeda. She’s raising my godson.”

“Yes, I know, you mentioned that last week.” 

“Anyone else you know of that could have bailed her out?” Harry asked. 

Draco shrugged, “She developed quite the social network of other aristocrats, and she was well-known in the community as a popular socialite. So any one of them could have done it.” he said, “But to be honest, I don’t much care.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Draco continued to read on through the paper, sipping on his morning tea. 

“So are you set for tomorrow?” he asked after awhile. 

Harry nodded. “I’ve practiced the testimony more times than I can count. I just hope it’ll be enough.” 

Draco nodded. “So do I.” 

Before the conversation could carry on, the audible flap of wings filled the fancy dining room. WIth a flourish of white, Hortense flew in and dropped a stack of letters in the center of the table. Then she perched herself on the back of Harry’s chair with a haughty ruffle of feathers. Harry scratched her on the top of head. She titled it and leaned in, eyes closing in contentment. 

Harry reached for the letters, and began to thumb through them. The letter and parcel he had been anticipating from Hermione, a letter from Andromeda, his trial summons. When he reached the bottom of the stack however, he discovered that the last few letters were not for him at all. 

“These two are for you.” he said. 

“Pardon? I’ve got letters? How?” 

Harry shrugged, “I’m not sure.” he handed them off across the table, and reached for Hermione’s letter. 

“Dear, Harry,

Glad to hear you’re doing well. We miss you. We’ll pop by for a visit after the trial. Speaking of which, I went to the Pensieve and fetched Snape’s memory vile like you asked. Good luck.” 

Love, Hermione 

P..S.: Slughorn sent you some Felix Felicis too. I included it with the memory vile.”

Harry pulled the wrapped and secured viles from the envelope. 

“Brilliant.” 

“What are those for?” 

“Evidence for the trial tomorrow. And some Liquid Luck. I didn’t think they’d arrive on time. I’m gonna go put them in a safe place, I’ll be back.” he got up from the chair, grabbed the two viles, and headed to the stairs.   

Once he was gone, Draco took the stack and began to thumb through them, reading the labels. 

“Parkinson?” he wondered aloud, “What does she want?” 

He set it aside, then looked at the next one. As soon as he saw the return address, his feeling of relaxation vanished and was replaced with knots once more twisting into his stomach. The second one was from his mother. His first instinct was to open and read it immediately. 

-xXx-

“Who’s writing to you?” the sudden inquiry announced Harry’s return. 

“Some of my old housemates, and my mother.” 

“Already?” Harry replied. 

“Apparently.” He altered his gaze between the letter in his hand and the ones lying on the kitchen table. And he ultimately reached to open the one that was from his mother first. 

Dearest Draco,

Where have you gone, luv? Are you okay? When I got out of Azkaban I snuck off to Hogwarts to try to fetch you, but you’ weren’t there. When I asked around Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, no one could tell me where you were. Your father and I are worried. Please come home.”

Love, Mother

Indeed, the letter had been addressed to Hogwarts specifically, and some how or another, must have gotten forwarded with the rest coming from there. 

Draco scoffed, “She writes as if she expects me to reply after everything that’s happened.” 

“I mean if you want her off your back, you could always send a letter back without disclosing the return address. Just tell her to leave you alone, or something.” 

Draco sighed, “I don’t know.” He read over the letter again and then placed it back into the envelope. Then he turned his attention to the other two letters in the pile. 

Hey, Draco, 

You alright? I’m just writing to check in. I hope you’re okay. Blaise and I are concerned. We’ve been following the news, and we haven’t heard from you. You totally ghosted us. And we heard it from the grapevine about your recent housing accommodations. I’m sorry that’s where you got stuck. WIth Potter, of all people. 

Could you meet us for tea and a catch-up sometime this week? 

Pansy Parkinson

P.S.: Blaise thinks we found a more suitable housing option for you. Quite the upgrade from staying with Potter. We’re also prepared to talk about that over our tea. 

 Draco’s brows knitted. He scrutinized Pansy’s letter. He read it over a couple of times, and then slid it across the table to Harry. 

“What’s your take on this one?” he asked. Harry plucked it from Draco’s hand and read it over. As soon as he saw the bit about different living accomodataions, he felt his stomach drop with a light, hearstring ache and pull.

“Bit passive aggressive, honestly.” Harry commented.

“That’s Parkinson.” Draco replied, “What I’m asking is, what do you think I should do?” 

“Honestly, if they’re your mates, it might do you a bit of good to meet up with them.”

“You really think so?” 

“Yeah. I mean they stuck by you for 7 years, you know, and the fact that they’re willing to meet up and catch up with you tells me that they want to have a connection, you know? Those are real friends. Regardless of how I feel about them.” Harry replied, “And as for the housing– I’d say….give it a go. Hear their offer. Then…decide what you want to do.” he said, voice poignant. 

Draco studied him, and for a moment his expression melted into what Harry could only describe as hurt. “What, so you don’t really care if I stay or go?”    

“No. Of course that’s not what I mean by that. I just want you to be able to make the right choice for you. I don’t want my thoughts on the matter to influence your opinion. I want you to be able to decide that for yourself.” Harry replied, “But if you must know– no I don’t want you to go, but if whatever it is that Zabini and Parkinson are offering you is better for you, then don’t let me stop you. But nevermind what I think. What do you want to do?” 

“I’m not sure. I’m a bit thrown off, if I’m honest.” Draco answered, “I thought for certain I lost all my friends after the stunt I pulled. But evidently I was wrong.” 

“As I said, it’s up to you, Draco.” Harry reiterated, “I want you to choose for yourself.”

The blonde smiled at him. Harry smiled back.

Warmth overtook Draco’s frame, and wrapped around his heart like a warm embrace. He beamed in the sunlight, softly touched by Harry’s sincerity. 

“I care about you.” Harry said, “And I want what’s best for you. But only you can decide what “best” is.” 

All Draco could do was smile. Until he saw his mother’s letter in the corner of his eye. And the smile faded away. 

-xXx-

The next morning arrived before they knew it. Draco impatiently adjusted Harry’s tie in the mirror, then ran his comb through the messy locks one more time.. 

“Right. You’re all set.” he stepped back to admire his look, “You clean up nicely.” 

Harry nodded, “Thanks. I like that vest.” 

“Thank you.” Draco then turned his back and braced himself on the wall, “Actually, would you mind tightening me up?” he gestured to the corseting on the back of his black brocade waistcoat with deep, wine red-accent panels. 

“Wait, how do I do that?” 

“Just pull the ones that are loose taut until the long ribbon ties are hanging, then tie those.” So, Harry begin pulling one crisscross lacing at a time.

“This seems really tight, are you sure about it?” Harry asked. 

“I’m used to it. It doesn’t bother me.” Draco replied. 

Harry finished tying the laces and stepped back. Draco pulled a wide-brimmed, witchy hat off the nearby hook, and plopped it on over his blonde hair. He adjusted his tie, laced up his exotic leather ankle boots, which Harry couldn’t help but notice had a kitten heel on them. Harry didn’t say anything about it though. 

But when he looked at Draco in his ridiculously flattering outfit, he hoped his swoon wasn’t obvious. “Damn,” he said, “You wear that corset vest thing well. I like the hat too. It looks good on you.” 

Draco flushed pink. “Naturally.” then he turned away, slipping his wand in the holster at his hip. “Anyway. Did you rehearse your testimony this morning like I suggested?” he asked, lacing the ties on the collar of his billowy black linen poet shirt. 

“While you were in the shower.” Harry replied. 

“You wanna rehearse it once more before you go?” 

“I think I’ve got it, thanks. Not to mention I may have taken a shot of Liquid Luck in my coffee this morning.” 

Draco smirked, “From bending the rules at school to bending the rules in court? Someone’s naughty.” 

 Harry chuckled. He finished combing his hair. Draco pushed the brunette’s glasses up on his nose.

“Right. So, let’s go then.” Harry finished. 

And off to the Ministry in Central London they went. 

“Do you really think they’ll pardon him?” Draco asked whilst they were walking down the sidewalk to the phone box. [Draco refused to take the toilets, and honestly, Harry didn’t blame him.] “I mean actually, truly pardon him?”  

“I’m not sure, but I’m gonna try my best to convince them.” Harry replied. “Shacklebolt’s alright. So I hope he’ll see reason and help sway the Wizengamot’s verdict in our favor.” They stepped into the phone box and Harry put in a couple of pounds. He dialed “62442” into the key pad. The elevator came to life, and off they went. 

When they arrived at the ministry, everything was as it was before the war. And it seemed things had been repolished and organized. The screens projected a slideshow of all the incarcerated death eaters and Umrbidge in her prison stripes. 

They crossed the main Atrium towards the lift that would take Harry to the dungeons. 

“I’ll be waiting for you at the statue. Or somewhere off in a corner.” Draco assured, “But I’ll be here in the Atrium.” 

Harry nodded.  

“You sure you’re alright to head off on your own?”

“I can apparate to the Leaky Cauldron. I’ll be alright.”  

“Right. No problem. Have fun meeting up with your friends today.” 

Draco nodded pulled something out of his pocket, warmed it in his hands, then held it up to his lips. He whispered and incantation, sealed it with a light kiss to whatever it was he was holding. Then, he instinctively reached out to give Harry’s hands a squeeze, and slipped something in them before he let go. “Good luck.” he whispered. And then he stepped out into the open, and disapparated. 

As soon as he was gone, Harry opened his hand. Draco had given him another pulsing crystal. Tiger’s Eye this time. It was warm in his hand. He slipped it into his pocket, and then took the lift down to the Courtroom. 

It was colder than the rest of the Headquarters down here, a vile reminder of the fact that there had once been dementors. There was a fresh coat of paint had been put over the “Magic is Might” graffiti, and it still smelled the strong, sweet, chemically odor in the air, with a hint of sweat and body odor lingering with it. He passed the holding cells. 

“Curse you, boy.” someone hissed from one of them, “CURSE YOU!” an audible spitting sound sounded behind the bars. Harry glared back at the nameless, stringy-haired brute behind the door. 

“You brought this upon yourself, mate.” Harry replied. The Death Eater cursed and spat again. Harry ignored him. 

“Potter!” another voice hissed a bit farther down the corridor. Harry recognized Snape’s voice immediately. He approached the holding cell. 

Snape was dressed in a fine set of black robes, and freshly washed hair. He sat on the floor with his leg propped. 

“Sir?” Harry stepped towards the cell without fear. Snape looked up, tired and sullen. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” 

“I’m well-prepared, sir.” 

Snape leaned back against the wall. “The fact that the fate of my freedom rests on your shoulders is mildly concerning to me.” He crossed his arms over his chest, “But as it stands we’ve got to work with what we’ve got.” 

Harry nodded. “How’s your leg?” 

Snape’s brow furrowed in confusion, as if no one ever asked about his well-being before. “Proper rubbish, thanks. It’s stiff as a beanpole and I can hardly put weight on it.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Snape shrugged. “It’s better than being unable to use it at all.” 

Harry nodded. The warning chime sounded on the nearby clock. 

“You’d better be off, Potter. It won’t bode well for me if my witness is late.” Just as he spoke, the doors of the courtroom swung open, and two Aurors he had never seen came out. Harry nodded as he walked passed them. One was stone-faced, muscular, blonde, and had a close-trimmed, neat beard. He had scarred, rippling muscles, and towered up at six foot six? Eight? The other man was petite, lean, red-haired, and well dressed, in tailored slacks and a brightly colored waistcoat.  

“Snape, on your feet.” said the burly man, rather gruffly, “Quickly. Or I’ll drag you there.” 

Snape painstakingly, slowly pulled himself up and reached for his crutch. 

The other auror thumped him on the chest, “Oi, take it easy, Lorentz. His leg, remember?” he reminded.  

“I don’t care about his damn leg, Sasha. An injured Death Eater is still a criminal, and he will be treated as such.” All at once, the smaller Auror’s expression hardened to a glare. 

“What did you just call me?” he demanded.  

“Shit. Damien. I meant. Damien. You’re Damien now, that’s right. Sorry…ahem…Anyway…let’s get this traitor into the courtroom, Damien . ” 

“Yes, let’s.” The redhead unlocked the cell door and swung it open, “Come along then, Severus.” Snape was leaning heavily to one side, breathing heavy as he limped out the doorway.. 

The Aurors took him by his arms, and escorted him towards the courtroom. 

-xXx-

The Wizengamot, which had been completely reelected since the last time he’d seen them, were engaged in hushed conversation amongst themselves. Harry sat alone in the witness seats, fiddling with the crystal in his clammy hands. He tried to listen in, make out their conversations. 

The side door opened, and Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the courtroom, going straight to the podium and gavel. Harry nodded respectfully at him. Kingsley nodded back.

He sat down. He thunked the gavel against the wooden block, “Order! Order in the court!” 

The purple-robed Council fell silent almost immediately. Kingsley adjusted his cap and looked back towards the main entrance. 

“Bring in the accused.” The double doors swung open. The Aurors entered the court, pulling a limping, hobbling Severus Snape between them. They sat him down in the chair, and stepped back. Lorentz drew his wand.

“Incarcerous!” 

Chains sprung from the chair legs and arms, and sharply bound him in place. He gritted his teeth, and his face distorted to a wince. A spark of irritation flickered across Harry’s face. The smaller of the aurors pushed a small stool towards the dark-haired man and helped him elevate his leg again before stepping back and casting a sharp glare at the burly blonde beside them.  

“Let the trial of Severus Tobias Snape commence.” the gavel hit the sounding block, and the trial began. 

-xXx-

Draco met Pansy and Blaise at the front entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. 

“What an…interesting meeting spot. Your taste has certainly…expanded.” Pansy commented. 

“Yeah. When you told us we’d all be meeting at a restaurant, I was under the impression it’d be some fancy two-story eatery with balcony seating. So this is certainly surprising.” Blaise agreed. 

Pansy stood with her arms lightly crossed, looking as aloof as she always had, and Blaise leaned casually against the brick wall.  

“Well, I needed something off the beaten path. Something less conspicuous.” Draco replied, “Still trying to keep a low profile, you know. I’m not trying to attract attention.” 

Pansy uncrossed her arms and pulled Draco into a short hug. He returned the gesture with a light pat to her shoulder. 

“It’s so good to see you.” she said, the smile unwavering on her face. 

Draco managed a meek smile.

“You look well.” Blaise agreed, “You had us worried there, mate.” 

“Well, I’m clearly fine.” Draco replied, “Shall we go inside?” 

The other two nodded. Draco pushed open the front door and led them into the smokey, cozy pub. 

Tom, the landlord, greeted them, then tucked them away in a somewhat inconspicuous table, inside one of the many arches and alcoves. Once they were sat, Draco ordered all three of them Butterbeers, which neither seemed adverse to. 

Pansy took a long gulp, and placed it back on the table. “So, how are you, really?” 

“I’m doing fine.” 

“You’re a right bloody idiot, you know that?” Pansy huffed. 

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?” 

“What she means is,” Blaise began calmly, “You gave us a bloody scare, mate.” 

“Damn right. You bloody git! No letter, nothing! Not one word to tell us you were alive!” Pansy continued, raising her voice slightly, “I thought you were dead, Draco! I shouldn’t have had to find out from the papers that you weren’t!” 

“Parkinson, easy.” Blaise warned. 

Draco sighed, twirling his straw in his butterbeer. “Anything else? Or are we done here?” 

Parkinson let out a deep, slow exhale. “The least you could have done was send a short note.”

“I had my reasons why I didn’t.” Draco replied. 

“What, you thought that just because you switched sides meant we didn’t want anything to do with you anymore?” Pansy deduced. 

“Yes, actually.” 

“Thickhead.” she hissed. 

Draco rubbed his temples, “I’m in no mood for this. If you met up just to lecture me then I will take my leave now.” he started to get up. She grabbed his wrist to stop him. 

“I’m pissed off at you for ghosting us, but that doesn’t mean I’m through being friends. It’s just been a lot, that’s all. I saw some awful, terrible things that day and it still gets to me.” 

Draco sat back down. 

“Yeah, mate.” Blaise furthered, “If anything, you’re smarter and braver than the rest of us. Picking the winning side. I don’t blame you. I was pulled from that fire by Potter and his mates too. It also opened my eyes.” 

“Regardless of how you see it, Draco. We’re your friends. We’re supposed to stick together. One decision isn’t going to burn those bridges to the ground after 7 years.” Pansy added. 

Draco felt his demeanor soften upon hearing this. 

“Look, we don’t resent you because of what you did.” Blaise confirmed, “We’re just glad you’re alright. After what happened to Gregory, Vincent, and Tracey, we’re relieved you got out with your life.” 

Draco’s heart lurched at the mention of Crabbe and Goyle. And then he realized Tracey Davis had also been on that list. “Tracey?” Draco echoed, “Tracey Davis? What happened to her?”

Pansy suddenly turned pallor and gray as a ghost. Her entire body stiffened. 

“She didn’t make it out.” Pansy replied, “She died. When the Slytherins were evacuated, she slipped off to go join the fight. I went after her. By the time I caught up with her it was too late. She got caught in an explosion. Her body was broken…it took a whole piece of her out…it blew out a chunk of her skull, but somehow it didn’t…it didn’t kill her…she was suffering…and she didn’t even know…when I found her, she…” 

Pansy’s breath wavered. Her whole body was shaking. Blaise squeezed her shoulder. Draco reached forward and took her hands, “I couldn’t…I mean…I mean she was dragging herself by the hands down the corridor. She was suffering…clawing for breath…she didn’t even know who she was…and with her dying breaths she went… please… so I did what I knew she needed me to do…I ended it…” Pansy choked up. “I drew my wand and I…I….” 

“You brought her peace.” said Blaise, “Poor Tracey.” 

Pansy hid her face behind her hands. She tried to steady her breathing, “Moments later, I got hit with the body binding charm by another student. I fell onto her body, and laid there on top of her for the rest of the fight…in a puddle of her blood, in shock. Unable to move, barely able to breathe…and pretended to be dead so I wouldn’t end up the way she had… and I thought…if this is what it means to be a Blood Purist…if this is what I’m fighting for…then I don’t want anything to do with it…I don’t want any part in it…so it doesn’t matter that you switched sides, Draco. All I care about is that you’re alright. Because if you think I was going to give up another friend after that….”

They all joined hands across the table, whispered the peace incantation, and shared a moment of of silence for their fallen friends. Though as they sat there in silence for them, Draco couldn’t help but be engulfed with the feeling of disgust. His stomach roiled, and the revolting mark on his arm bubbled and rippled against his flesh, mocking him, reminding him… the butterbeer bubbled like bile in his throat. And the aching grief overtook his body. 

It remained until the trio took a collective deep breath, and let go of one another. 

“Tracey’s better off now.” Blaise said, “And Vincent and Gregory too.” 

Draco and Pansy nodded. 

-xXx-

“Order! Order!” the gavel struck the soundblock for the third time since the trial had started, and the friction and tension between the Wizengamot and Harry was so thick you could barely cut through with a knife. “Let us get back to the matter at hand!” Kingsley turned to peer at Snape. 

“Severus Tobias Snape, you have been accused of the murder of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore by use of the Killing Curse, use of the Imperius Curse on Hogwarts Staff, cruel and unusual decrees of punishment against the Hogwarts student body, and conspiring as a Death Eater with the recently dead and deceased He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. How do you plead?” 

“I never used an Imperius Curse on Hogwarts staff, and the cruel and unusual punishment was done outside my knowledge by Death Eaters Ammycus and Alecto Carrow, who were killed in the Battle for Hogwarts school. And all the conspiring you say I am guilty of, I did because Dumbledore asked me to. I lied for him. I risked my life for him. I spied for him. All because he told me to. Everything I did was to ensure victory against the Dark Lord and ensure the protection of Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy. Not once during this war was I EVER loyal to the Dark Lord.”

“Did you or did you not murder Albus Dumbledore with the killing curse?” 

“I did. Upon his orders.” 

“Objection, Minister!” someone chimed in from the third row from the back of the Wizengamot, “Dumbledore may have had a couple of screws loose in his head, but he’d never do something like willingly order his own death.” 

“He’s not lying!” Harry cut in, “He’s telling the truth I saw it–” 

“Order! Order!” The gavel hit the sound block and silenced the room, “Snape. Continue.” 

“During my time as a spy, I learned of this event, and I voiced my concerns to Albus Dumbledore. It was upon hearing the news that Dumbledore ordered me to kill him instead. If I had not, Draco Malfoy– an innocent child, mind you, would be dead. The Dark Lord initially ordered Draco Malfoy to kill Albus Dumbledore, and stated that if he did not succeed, he would have slaughtered the entire family in cold blood.”

“Objection! The Malfoys are just as guilty of conspiring with the Dark Lord as you–” 

“We’re not talking about the Malfoys as a unit!” Snape’s voice rose just slightly, “We are talking about a child ! Know your priorities or give up your seat!”  

“How dare you speak to me like that, you filthy traitor–” 

The gavel thwacked the soundblock, “Order, please, order!”  

Harry sighed and rubbed his temples. 

“...I was not going to stand aside and let an innocent boy commit such a life-altering act!” Snape hissed, glaring at the mouthy juror, “I did what I had to do.” 

Some of the council seemed to back down slightly. 

“Regardless of your motive, it does not change the fact that you used one of the Unforgivables! You are still guilty!” shrieked the same woman from before.

“Actually, ma'am, the motive does play a role.” Harry piped in. He stood up from his seat. “Less than a week ago, as a recall, you lot cleared Narcissa Malfoy of murder charges against Adrianos Avery because you determined it was done in an act of self-defense. So how is it a fair trial if you don’t consider his motives too? They used the same curse.” Harry said. “You’d be contradicting yourselves if you didn’t.” 

“He has a point, you know.” the Auror DeRossi chimed in, glancing up at the wizard who had spoken. 

“Indeed. Snape. Continue.” Shacklebolt ordered. 

-xXx-

“....So what about you, then, Malfoy?” it was Blaise who spoke first following the silence.  

“What about me?” 

“Daphne told us you’re currently living with Harry Potter.” Pansy confirmed, “Is that right?” 

Draco nodded. 

“Is he treating you well?” she asked, “...Or are you a prisoner in his home?” 

“...He’s been wonderful, actually.” Draco replied, hating the fact that his cheeks warmed up almost immediately after he made that comment, “We’ve had our moments, and he can be a bit short and snippy when he speaks sometimes, but he’s an exceptionally kind person. The day I arrived he told me to make myself at home. And I have.”

His friends studied him. Pansy’s hostility towards Potter seemed to flicker away just slightly. Blaise nodded along. 

“...So do you like it there, then?” Blaise asked. 

“Yes. I do.” 

“So then, I assume you won’t be returning to your parents any time soon, will you?” Pansy questioned. 

“I will be, but only to fetch my things, I think.” Draco answered, “I’m not going for tea or a friendly visit. I’ve been having all these terrible dreams and realizations. And I don’t think I should be there anymore. My family’s actions and loyalties have done nothing but torment me and ruin my adolescence. My father’s royal fuck up led to me being appointed to kill Dumbledore. My own aunt carved the Dark Mark into my arm. And my mother just watched it all happen and only scrambled to pick up the pieces when it was at its worst. I don’t think I want that anymore.” 

“I suppose I understand." Blaise confirmed, “But don’t you think you should at least try and speak to them first? If you did. I think you’d probably get some form of closure, if that’s what you want.” 

“I didn’t think of that, no.” Draco said. 

“It might be worth considering before you go your own way.” Pansy suggested, “If you somehow manage to make peace with them, but you stay true to your own ambitions, at the very least, you have something to fall back on if the worst should happen.” 

Draco shook his head, “Yeah, a soiled reputation and my name by association on the Ministry’s Most Wanted list, that’s great. Add onto that an alcoholic father, an enabling mother, and coils of scandal– not to mention the Blood Purist nonsense that got us into it in the first place…” he huffed, “I don’t want anything to with that. If I did, my actions at the stand off and everything I lost would be all for nothing. Everything I’ve built with the one person in the world who I always wanted on my side, I’ll lose.” 

“We’re not saying go back to them.” Blaise said, “We’re merely saying, have a chat so you can peacefully let it all go.” 

“We understand your loyalties have changed, alright?” Pansy confirmed, “And we’re not trying to change them back or anything. We just think it might be better to have that last conversation so you can freely pursue your ambitions, not your father’s.”

“It’s about damn time you did.” Blaise added, “We’re getting sick of hearing about your old man. Not to mention you’re less than a week away from turning 18. So this is the best time, you know, to pave your own way.” 

Pansy nodded. The tension, and sharpness in Draco’s expression, wavered. Some of the heaviness lifted from his shoulders. It was nice to know that Blaise and Pansy were on the same page as Harry. 

“Speaking of going your own way.” Blaise furthered,  “I might have a house for you. My mother said you could have her second ex-husband’s third London countryside manor. No one lives there, but since he’s dead, she still owns the thing, and she wants it out of her name. She’d sell it to you and transfer the deed for a fraction of what it’s worth, and then it would be all yours. No strings attached to anyone else at all. You could start all over completely.” 

Draco perked up. That was tempting. “That’s…quite the offer…” he commented. 

Zabini shrugged. “It’s no problem. Slytherins look after each other, right? So anything we can do, you know. We’ll do it. We’re your friends.” 

Draco’s chest fluttered with warmth, but was replaced by the nagging what ifs.  But if I leave Harry now…I won’t ever know what could’ve been… 

“I don’t need an answer right now, though.” Blaise added, “You can let me know after you mull it all over.” 

Draco nodded. 

“It’s up to you.” Pansy confirmed, “Whether you want to go your own way, or continue to stay with Harry Potter.”  

“Speaking of Potter,” Draco began, “....There’s…something you ought to know…” 

-xXx-

Harry had a pulsing headache. The Wizengamot might have been some of the most incompetent idiots he’d ever interacted with. 

“You’re telling us Albus Dumbledore was an accomplice in his own murder?” someone was exclaiming. 

“Indeed. He told me I had to do it.” Snape’s brow twitched, “Apparently you didn’t understand that the first time, or the third, fourth or fifth, As I said, I was prepared to do whatever it took to protect that boy!” Snape exclaimed, pointing at Harry, “Even if it meant taking the double agent position to the most extreme measures. Upon Dumbledore’s orders. I did everything to keep Mr. Potter safe. Additionally, my brief position as Hogwarts Headmaster was not accidental either. Dumbledore and I planned that as well...with me in charge…the students would have been better off.,” 

“A murder is a murder! An Unforgivable is an unforgivable! The unforgivable alone is a one-way ticket to Azkaban! Regardless of who planned what!” shrieked the same mouthy juror that Snape had already tried to shut up once. 

“But sentences to Azkaban can be pardoned.” Harry cut in sharply, “Shacklebolt. Come on. Professor Snape served as a valuable member to…to our cause. You know that just as well as I do. And what about that fact that there’s exceptions during dire situations? Especially when it comes to…defenses.” 

“He killed an innocent man, boy! There were no defenses!” shrieked the small, mouthy one again.

“Dumbledore was not innocent either!” Harry shot back. 

All at once, the others pulled back in shock. Even Snape’s gaze widened. The courtroom fell to silence. And Harry’s stomach churned with guilt when he realized what he had just said. 

“This is not Albus Dumbledore’s trial.” said Lorentz, the auror, “Let us return to the defense at hand.” 

“No, this is codswallop, Minister!” someone else on the council hissed, “There is no way Dumbledore could have possibly been an accomplice in his own murder! No one does that! Snape, what proof do you have of this?” 

“I…” the man’s tired gaze faltered, “I have none.” 

“See! He’s lying!” The mouthy juror stood up again, “Guilty! Guilty!” she pointed an accusing finger, practically jumping up and down in front of her chair. 

The gavel hit the soundblock. 

“Counselor Banesberry, if you could please take your seat!” Shacklebolt ordered, “Snape, if you have no proof of this, I cannot accept it as valid evidence to build your defense. Denied.” 

“Wait, Minister.” Harry’s voice again, “He might not have evidence. But I do.” He was climbing down the stairs, stepped up towards Snape’s side, and held up the vile from the Pensieve, “It’s right here.” 

“Potter! What the hell are you doing? That is not yours to do with what you please!” 

“Respectfully, Professor, you told me to take them.” Harry replied, “You didn’t specify what I could and couldn’t do with them.”  

“Why you–” 

“Minister, do you have a Pensieve?”

“We do.” 

“Might we use it for this? I think it might clear some things up.” 

“Potter! What–”

“Sir. Just trust me.” 

Shacklebolt nodded, “I think that would be wise.” 

-xXx-

Draco drained the rest of his butterbeer while his friends processed everything he had just told them. 

“So, you finally admit it.” Pansy commented first. 

“Even after everything?” Blaise added. 

“It’s always been him. And I don’t think there’s anything I want more at the moment. Except to be with him.” Draco answered, “And if I leave now, I’m giving up my chance.” 

“How can you be so certain he feels the same?” Pansy asked. . 

“He’s rubbish at hiding it.” Draco replied. 

“And if he rejects you, what then?” Blaise asked. 

“You just offered me a house.” Draco said, “So I’ll accept the offer and move.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“So when and how are you going to tell him?” Pansy asked. 

“That I don’t know. I suppose I will when I feel like the time is right.” Draco answered. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Draco.” Blaise finished.  

“I do.” Draco confirmed, “I’m pursuing what I want.”  

-xXx-

The ghostly, misty image showed Snape and Dumbledore conversing in the Headmaster’s office.

“Don’t ignore me, Severus. We both know that Lord Voldemort has ordered the Malfoy boy to murder me. But should he fail, I should presume the Dark Lord will turn to you.” 

From the ghostly scene being “projected” above the pensieve, Snape turned to look at Dumbledore, the color draining from his face. 

“You must be the one kill me Severus. It is the only way. Only then will the Dark Lord trust you completely.”

Dumbledore’s death flashed green across the mist. The faint echo of the killing curse filled the courtroom. 

“There will come a time when Harry Potter must be told something…but you must wait until Voldemort is at his most vulnerable.” 

“Must be told what?” 

“On the night that Voldemort went to Godric’s Hollow to kill Harry, Lily Potter cast herself between them. The curse rebounded. When that happened, a part of Voldemort’s soul latched itself onto the only living thing it could find. Harry himself. There’s a reason Harry can speak with snakes. There’s a reason he can look into Lord Voldemort’s mind. A part of Voldemort lives inside him.”

“So…when the time comes, the boy must die?”

“Yes…yes. He must die.” 

“You’ve kept him alive so that he can die at the proper moment?“ Snape’s expression hardened. “I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter—’

“Don’t tell me now that you have grown to care for the boy…”  

“Care for him…” 

The voices faded to distance echoes. The mist vanished into whisps, and the image faded into the air.  For several moments, the Wizengamot sat in silence. 

“So now you understand.” Harry was first to speak, “If he hadn’t left me these memories, I wouldn't have been able to destroy Voldemort.” he said, “He became a villain to save the world.”

“There’s no way that’s a real memory!” shrilled Counselor Banesberry, “It’s clearly been tampered with! And I think you are under the imperious curse!” she added, pointing her finger at Harry. 

Harry rolled his eyes and huffed, “How could he possibly have put me under the Imperius Curse when you lot bound his wrists and took his wand!? Honestly! It is too a real memory!” Harry argued back.

“It’s a mind trick! He is using Legilimens!” she protested. 

“Oh my gods, will you kindly shut it!” Snape huffed, “You’re giving all of us a headache.” 

Auror DeRossi stifled back a chuckle.  

Snape turned his gaze to Harry. “You can’t reason with her, Potter, she’s a senile half-wit.” 

“How dare you!”  

“Banesberry, please be seated!” Shacklebolt ordered. 

Harry cast Snape an amused ghost of a grin, before turning his back to Banesberry and addressing the minister on the podium, “Minister Shacklebolt, listen.I have despised this man from the beginning of my time at Hogwarts school, and I’m still up here defending him. So, what does that tell you? Over the passed few months, I’ve never met a single person who’s shown such courage, bravery, and due diligence to do their duty. Not only that, but he was on our side of the war the entire time…it was all part of this master plan that Dumbledore created. Professor Snape’s not lying! Yes. He did kill Dumbledore. I saw that…with my own eyes. I didn’t think it was possible for me to despise him more than I already did until that moment. And yet despite that, here I still stand. In his defense. You lot weren’t there when it happened. You lot didn’t see what I did. Dumbledore was…very ill…he was already dying anyway…slowly and painfully.” Harry explained, “That night on the Astronomy tower, Professor Snape hesitated. Dumbledore begged him to end his life. Pleaded him to end the suffering. And thinking back on it now, knowing what I do now that I didn’t know then, you could say that Professor Snape’s killing of Dumbledore was a twisted act of…mercy…and a brave, selfless act he committed so as not to deprive Draco Malfoy of what shred of innocence he had left. He did his duty as a teacher– he protected his student in that moment, for as…twisted and messed up as it was. An act he committed to ensure the greater good. No one else in this room would have had the stomach for that.” 

The Wizengamot leaned forward in their chairs, now listening intently. 

"And if you think it was a cold-blooded murder like I initially did, you’d be wrong. Professor Snape didn’t want to do it. It was obvious. In fact, he was so adverse to doing that…that… that the curse…failed.” Snape’s face hardened, “…The curse hit Dumbledore and he fell off the edge of the Astronomy tower. But it wasn’t the curse that killed him. It was the fall.” 

“How can you be so sure of that, Mr. Potter?”  Kingsley Shacklebolt asked.

“I’m the Boy Who Lived, Minister Shacklebolt. I know a failed Killing Curse when I see one. And when I tried to chase after him after it happened– Bellatrix Lestrange tried to kill me. And he protected me. He ordered her to stand down. And she did. First year, he protected me…third year, he protected me…” Harry found himself sprialing into a tangent about all the times Snape had protected him, “And not only that– his Patronus– led me to the Sword of Godric Gryffindor– a sword which allowed the destruction of more than one of the seven Horcruxes…” 

Harry finished his testimony, which went on far longer than he had anticipated. And everyone was too enthralled to cut him off. He left out the details about his mother, and some of the details about Snape’s past he knew of that were unnecessary, and finished the testimony by asking for the Ministry to pardon his old Potions Professor. 

“Severus Snape, do you have anything further to add?” 

Snape shook his head. 

“Council? Any further questions?” 

No further questions. 

“Those in favor of conviction?”  Half the Wizengamot raised their hands. 

“Those in favor of clearing the accused of charges?” The other half of the Wizengamot raised their hands. 

They were 25-25. Evenly split. 

“The verdict is up to your discretion, Minister.” someone said. 

“Recess. I will deliberate and we will return in ten minutes.” 

-Xxx-

Draco drummed his fingers on the table. He had long since said goodbye to Pansy and Blaise, and was seated inside the Ministry Atrium. He was was hunched over his third cuppa tea, rereading the same issue of the Daily Prophet in a corner table . He’d already completed all the crosswords, sudokous and wordsearches, and now he was re-reading obituaries and the Entertainment section. He was hiding his face behind the paper, of course. Reading over the same things. And he was reaching his limit. He was moments from going down to the dungeons and gate-crashing the courtroom. 

And then he saw the verdict on the screens. And his heart leapt up through his chest. 

Moments later, he heard the footsteps approaching. He smelled the familiar scent of cheap cologne. He lowered the paper from his face and dropped it on the table. And then once, something came over him, and he was b-lining across the open floor, right towards Harry.

Draco flung himself into Harry’s embrace, nearly knocking the other boy off his feet. Harry staggered backwards, and his heartbeat thrummed against his chest. And when he recovered from the shock, he was hugging Draco back. 

All around them, the cameras flashed. People coming in and out stopped to stare. They barely noticed. Not even when it went up on the big screens.

 Draco was first to pull away. 

“My gods. That was a greeting.” Harry huffed, “You about knocked the wind out of me.” 

“Sorry. I guess I was so pleased with the verdict, I couldn’t contain myself.” Draco was smiling, face flushed. His breath smelled like sweet butterscotch. “I didn’t see the trial but…I know you were brilliant.” 

“Yeah.” Harry chuckled, “Brilliant enough to get one of the Ministry’s Most Wanted off the list and freed.” 

Draco continued to hold onto Harry, refusing to let go. Harry lightly pushed his arms. “Right, okay. How much butterbeer did you drink?” 

“I forgot.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Nevermind. Come on. Let’s go home. I’ve been here too long.” 

Draco nodded. 

Then Harry noticed the cameras, “Oi, what are you lot doing? Don’t you have jobs to get back to?” he asked, addressing the paparazzi that had suddenly seemed to to spawn out of nowhere. He pulled Draco by the arm, away from the crowd.  He led him behind the statue and out a side door. 

-xXx-

“So yeah, they cleared him of charges and put him on Parole, provided he keeps up good behavior.” Harry explained, “They’re keeping him on house arrest for the time being, and as long as he behaves for the next three weeks or something, they’ll give him his wand back. They also kept the magic-inhibiting wristlets on– for tracking or something. And they appointed him a 24/7 escort and parole officer. So he’ll be under constant supervision.” 

“At least they didn’t send him to Azkaban.” 

“Yeah. It was a long trial though. I swear, to some degree, it was more exhausting than hunting Hocruxes.” 

“Well, it’s over now. And you did what you set out to do. Which is important.”

Harry nodded. “So how was your meeting with Parkinson and Zabini?”  

“Good. It turns out I didn’t lose all my friends after all. So yeah.” 

“What was the housing they offered you?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I declined for now.” 

“Really?”

“Mmm hmm. Better things are to come if I stay at Grimmauld Place with you.”

“Are you sure you made the right decision for yourself?”

“Positive.” 

“Okay.” Harry’s tired face lit up, “Well, that’s alright then.” 

Draco beamed. 

“...Also, one more thing about the verdict I forgot to mention. As soon as it’s fixed up, he’s being transferred from his house to Hogwarts for extra security.”    

“What the hell? Where’s the logic in that?” 

“They seem to think it’s the easiest place to keep him under lock and key and security. And I suppose it’s also because I made a convincing case about him protecting students. He’s prohibited from teaching classes until his parole is up, and only if McGonagall permits him to come back, and he can’t go anywhere else on the grounds without being accompanied by another teacher.” 

“Well I’m glad you got him out of Azkaban.” Draco said. His lips cracked into a smile, “I knew you’d be able to get them to see it your way.” 

They continued to stroll leisurely down the block. As they made their way back towards the Leaky Cauldron .

Suddenly, a sharp, familiar voice sounded from behind. 

“Potter!” 

Harry and Draco stopped and turned over their shoulder. Snape was approaching them swiftly, with the assistance of his crutch. 

“Good afternoon, Professor.” Harry nodded. Draco smiled. 

The black-haired parolee was far from amused.

“Don't "good afternoon", me! How daft are you, boy? What  in the seven hells were you thinking, lying in court!?”  Snape was bristling. 

Draco’s mouth gaped into an expression between an “o” and a smile. “You did what?” 

“What are you talking about, Professor?” Harry asked. 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Potter. You know precisely what I mean. You told them the Unforgivable didn’t work– and it damn well did, you…” he huffed, “I cannot believe your brashness, boy. If I get my job back before the end of your eighth year, the first thing you’ll be doing is serving a month’s worth of detention with me for lying to the government.” 

Draco smirked with amusement. “Harry…did you actually… lie in court ?” Draco’s face lit up. Harry had never seen him so impressed. 

“It was just a white lie, Professor. And it got you out of Azkaban, didn’t it?” Harry defended. 

A deep sigh dissipated whatever shred of annoyance was left in Snape. He shook his head, “You are completely, and utterly…” he trailed off, as if he couldn’t find any word to fit what he meant. “Just…why?” his voice softened, his bitterness faded to exasperation, “Explain yourself, Potter. Why would you do that?” 

“For as much of a…sour sod that you are , Professor Snape, what you did during the Battle of Hogwarts…what you’ve done up until now…well…let’s just say the respect you get from me from now on is entirely sincere. I truly think you are the bravest man I know, and I’m sorry I called you a coward before. It wouldn’t have felt right to let them lock you up after everything. So I made sure you weren’t. And also…well, I never did get the chance to see my godfather walk as a free man, did I? So I suppose, I wanted to make up for that too. Also…” 

He cast a soft gaze at Draco. The expression sent all these warm flutters across the blonde's frame, “Draco is fond of you, and it was important to him, so that played into it too. I don’t regret anything I did back there. So there’s your why.” Harry replied, “…Though I don’t appreciate the thing with my mum. That’s…quite weird to me…”

A sound halfway between a scoff and what Harry swore was a breathy chuckle escaped the depths of Snape’s throat. “I’m still not amused.” 

“You never are though, are you?” Draco chimed in. Snape glared. 

Before anything else could be said on the matter, another voice sounded from behind. 

“Severus Snape!” the pint-sized, red haired Auror from before came running down the sidewalk. “Just what do you think you’re doing going so far ahead? Is this really how you want to start your Parole? With evasion?” 

Snape glared over his shoulder, “It was a brisk walk at my normal pace, DeRossi. Seems to me like you just need to do a better job of keeping up.” 

“Perdonami? Was that an insult? Keep in mind, as your official, Ministry-appointed parole officer, I’m the one who dictates whether you get off parole and/or get your wand back. I would have care how you speak to me.” 

Snape rolled his eyes. DeRossi caught his breath. Then, his bright hazel eyes caught Harry's. 

“Ah! If it isn’t Harry Potter. I must say you had quite the testimony during the trial. I was impressed.” DeRossi smiled and held out a hand for him to shake,, “Damien DeRossi, Auror and Professor, at your service. I look forward to seeing you at school come September.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Harry replied. 

“And Malfoy, same to you.” DeRossi offered Draco a handshake as well. The blonde took it apprehensively. 

“Anyway. Do take care in the meantime, lads.” He nodded at them, and then took Snape by the arm. 

“Now come along, you. Let’s have lunch.” 

“Who said I want lunch?”

“I did. I know you haven’t eaten a morsel today. We’re getting lunch. My treat.” 

“This is what your brilliant plan got me, Potter.” Snape grumbled, before being unwillingly escorted by his parole officer. 

“Come along now, caro. Off we go.” DeRossi reminded. 

“I’m not your caro..."  

They disappeared down the sidewalk. 

"Seems like he's in pretty good hands." Harry commented. 

"Yeah, but it also shows that the Ministry is not messing around." Draco said,  "Are you familiar with the DeRossi family at all?" 

Harry shook his head. 

"The DeRossis are a family of pureblood aurors from Naples. The aurors from that family have some of the highest numbers of Dark Wizard captures and kills in all of Southern Europe." Draco explained.

"Kills?" 

"Yeah. There was a time when the Aurors' job was simply to kill dark wizards. Not capture. In fact, it was actually one of the DeRossis that captured and killed my grandfather, Abraxas." Draco explained, "And actually, Damien DeRossi himself is among the top twenty best. My father is terrified of the DeRossi family." A smirk tugged his lip. "Imagine the look on his face when he finds out they're operating here."

"Right..." 

Suddenly, Harry didn't feel so good about Snape's predicament. 

"Snape'll be fine, though. He's not technically a Dark Wizard." Draco confirmed, "But I bet you half the Death Eaters in Azkaban now were put there by one of the DeRossis. And if Damien DeRossi is here, then, at minimum, his siblings probably are as well. Which means the rest of the Death Eaters will likely be captured before the end of the summer." 

"Well...that'll be good for the rest of the Wizarding world." 

Draco nodded quietly by Harry's side. 

Chapter Text

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNING: This chapter involves attempted abuse. It will be indicated in the body of the chapter where the scene starts and ends, and there will be a summary at the bottom if it is something you'd like to skip. 

(9) Go Your Own Way

Evening Prophet, June 1st, 1998

“SECRET AFFAIR? Malfoy and Potter’s Public Display of Affection Begs the Question.” by Rita Skeeter. After the headline, there was a large image of Draco running and embracing Harry after the trial. 

…. Yesterday afternoon, following the verdict of the trial of former Death Eater, Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy was seen running across the atrium of the Ministry and jumping into Harry Potter’s arm as if embracing a lover. Upon this display, people have begun to wonder what is going on between them… 

Draco’s lip curled, “Who the bloody hell does she think she is spitting codswallop? It’s not her business what’s between us.” 

Harry huffed from the other end of the couch, “That’s how she is. Since the Triwizard Tournament, I’ve only ever read writings of hers where she’s either spreading codswallop or stirring the cauldron with drama and trouble. She had quite a bit to say about Dumbledore, especially. This won’t be the first time she’ll have things to say about us.” He rolled his eyes, “Honestly, I’m so used to the press saying things about me that I don’t really care.”

Draco folded the paper down and glanced at the tapestry on the far wall. He propped his elbow on the arm of the couch and slumped his chin in his hand. Harry took in the curves and angles of his face from the other corner. Draco’s expression was contemplative. 

“You’ve been quiet since we got home.” Harry said, “You alright?” 

Draco nodded, “I’ve just been doing a bit of thinking, that’s all. A lot of things are running amok in my mind at the moment.”  

“Anything particular you’d like to talk about?” Harry asked, leaning across the table slightly. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Just…I mean…I’m just thinking about what Blaise and Pansy said. They think I should…have a chat with my parents. Face them in person. Tell them how it is. Tell them, at the very least, it’s time for me to go my own way.” 

“I see…” Harry replied, “...But are you ready to face them though?”  

The radio crackled. White Witch Again. 

You can go your own way!

Go your own way

You can call it

Another lonely day

You can go your own way

Go your own way!

Draco’s brows furrowed, “How in the bloody hell does that thing always know what music it should play at what times?” 

“Enchanted radio, I s’pose.” 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Anyway. That’s at the forefront of my mind at the moment.” 

Harry nodded. “So what are you gonna do?” 

“I don’t know. My heart’s pulling me to say goodbye. But then my stomach twists in knots when I think about going there and facing them on my own.”

“Who said you’re going on your own?” Harry asked. 

Draco studied Harry in the candlelight.  

“If you do decide to do it, I’ll go with you. I won’t say anything, but I’ll come for support.” 

The blonde’s expression softened. “You’d do that for me?” 

“Of course.” Harry assured, “Mates look after each other.” 

Draco nodded, but his expression at once seemed to melt with melancholy when Harry referred to them as “mates”. His heart felt heavy in his chest, and ached against his sternum. 

Harry got up from the couch. “But of course, that’s up to you. Just let me know.” he walked behind Draco’s chair and squeezed his shoulder. His touch was warm, and calming, albeit a little clammy. “I’m gonna go help Kreature with dinner.” 

“Harry?” 

Potter turned at the entryway of the sitting room and peered over his shoulder. “Yeah?” His sweet eyes pierced straight through Draco’s heart like Cupid’s Arrow. 

“Thank you.” 

“Yeah, of course. I’ve got you, mate.”  And he left the room. 

Once he was gone, Draco got up from the couch and sat down in front of the tapestry. He ran his fingers across the rough, course threads, tracing the outlines of his family members’ names and the accompanying portraits. He took extra care when he traced his sisters’ portraits. In particular, his sister with the dark hair. 

“I wonder what you would say to me now, if you had lived through all this too…” he said aloud, “Would you have ended up like me? Would you have taken my place? Or would have fought for what’s right from the beginning, eh, Marjorie?” the portrait of the gloomy, dark-haired girl sewn in, did not respond. 

-xXx-

“Look! Look, Draco, watch this!” His tall, dark-haired big sister sat down on the grass beside him where he’d fallen in the garden, with big-eyed, crocodile tears. 

She opened her clasped hands. Spectral, tiny white butterflies flew out of them, and brushed their wings against his tears and his scraped knee. As soon as he was the magic, his entire face lit up in wonder. The butterflies flew off and faded. His scraped knee didn’t feel so painful anymore. “Butterfly kisses. You’re all better now.”  

“All better?” Draco, who was three at the time, repeated. 

“All better.” Marjorie repeated, “And one day, you’ll be able to do that too.” 

“I will?” 

She nodded. Then, she helped him off the ground. “Come on. Let’s go inside, Dobby’ll get you fixed up.” 

He stood where he had fallen and then reached his hands up towards her. “Pick me up.” he said. 

“I thought you said you were too much of a big boy now for that.” she replied. 

“No. I want you pick me up.” 

Marjorie smiled her toothy smile, and hoisted her little brother from the ground. Draco wrapped his little arms around her and laid his head on her shoulder. 

Moments before she made it through the door, a sharp voice caught her attention and made her stiffen.

“Marjorie!” Lucius hissed. 

She froze. 

“Put your brother down, now. You’re not old enough to be carrying him around! And he’s far too old to be coddled anymore.” 

“But father, I’m very nearly 10 now and– and he asked me to–he got hurt–” 

“Are you talking back?” Lucius hissed. 

Her face went pale and she shrunk back. “N-no, Father.” 

“Good. That’s what I thought. Now put Draco down, and return to your studies this instant. I expect you to have mastered the color changing charm by the end of the week. You’ll have to demonstrate mastery by changing your hair color, in case you’ve forgotten. You won’t meet that goal if you’re tarrying and frolicking about in the garden.” 

“Yes, Father.” Marjorie put Draco back on the ground. He clung to her and resisted. 

“No–” 

“I’ve gotta go, Draco. But we can play later.” Marjorie assured.  

“But I wanna play now–!” 

“Draco, come here.” Lucius replied, still icy, but with a slightly softer voice.  

The three-year-old didn’t think twice about not listening. Lucius extended an arm. Draco waddled over. His knee scrape was hurting again. He stoo obediently by his father’s side. He made sure he stayed there by placing his cane diagonally from Draco’s shoulder to hip. .

“Marjorie, inside.” 

“Yes, Father.” she hung her head, and shuffled passed them on the other side. 

“Bye, Marjree…” Draco said. 

“Bye…” Marjorie disappeared into the house, careful not to even touch the hem of Lucius’s coat when she passed by him. 

-xXx-

Back in the present, Draco sat down in front of the tapestry and sighed. He hugged his knees to his chest and let his mind wander. 

The radio static and distortion indicated another song switch. 

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every written memory

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me..

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me…..

“What should I do, Marjorie?” he asked. 

Silence.

He shook his head, scowled at himself. Pathetic. Speaking aloud as if she could hear you from beyond the grave… 

It really was up to him. 

June 3rd, 1998

Draco’s hand was clammy in Harry’s as they stood before the cast iron gates of the brooding, yet handsome manor house before them. Draco looked sick to his stomach. His face was pale and ashy and he was in his stiff black suit for the first time since the Battle of Hogwaarts. 

Harry’s face was pulled into a stern, sharp line, though he tried his best to keep the knots in his stomach and the nerves bristling his spine buried beneath the surface of his face. 

“Ready?” 

“As I’ll ever be…” 

They took a collective deep breath. 

“I’ll be with you the whole time.” Harry assured. Draco nodded. Then slipped his hand from Harry’s, stepped up to the porch, and knocked on the heavy metal door. The echoing thump unpleasantly filled the deathly quiet air. Harry followed Draco up the steps. He kept a firm grip on the wand in the holster at his hip, ready to brandish if necessary. From the other side. Two deep, throaty barks of large dogs sounded and were silenced with the hissing whisper of the silencing charm. 

The door cracked open, and a large, dark eye peered out from behind. 

“Hello…Mother…” Draco forced out. 

Her eye glossed over, and she pulled the door closed. There was a rustle of chains and fumbling click of several locks on the other side of the door. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing Narcissa in a simple Victorian day dress. There was no intricate detailings, other than some lace on the collar and sleeves. Her hair was pulled in a messy updo, with several wispy flyaways. She had scarcely any makeup on her face, so the lines and eye-bags were quite visible. Her cheeks were hollow and prominent, and her lips were pulled into a tight line. 

“Draco…” her voice was tired and whispery. When she addressed him, it trembled. “You’ve come home…” She pulled him into an embrace. He visibly stiffened. She pulled away and studied him up and down.

“I’m not here to stay." Draco said sharply, "Tea time chat and that’s all.” 

“Yes...Quite so…” she made eye contact with Harry. 

“Mr. Potter…” 

He nodded curtly, keeping his grip tight on the wand. 

“Do come in…” she said, “The tea is…steeping…” 

Draco and Harry stepped through the doors. Once they were in, Harry nearly suffocated with thick sickness of the air. It was gloomy, stuffy, and heavy. And the magic coursing through the walls was not better. The last thing he had ever wanted to do was step back into this cursed house. Narcissa led them through the grand foyer, up the stairs, straight into the dining room, and in there the sickness turned to dark. There was a shadow over the room, a lingering evil– it was clear that this was where the Death Eaters had once had their gatherings. 

A table runner reminiscent of the blackest night sky ran down the length of the long dining table. A tea set and cups were meticulously and elegantly arranged. A dessert tower was filled with little cucumber sandwiches, tiny teacakes, and scones. Four teacups, upturned on their saucers, were placed at four seats near the end of the table. 

“You can take your seats.” she gestured to the two chairs on the left-hand side of the table, “I shall return soon. Help yourselves.” Harry and Draco sat down next to each other. 

Draco drew a deep breath as soon as he was seated. 

“You alright?” 

Draco nodded, “I’ll be alright. My mum looks quite put out, though. What’s even worse– I have no idea where my father is…”  

He drew a breath, flipped over his tea up and reached across the table for a sandwich, which he placed on the plate in front of him. Harry helped himself to a fancy little teacake. 

Across the fancy dining room, the double doors leading into the kitchen, swung open, and Narcissa came back in pushing a tea cart. A piping hot teapot, and the cream and sugar, alongside a fresh bottle of red wine that hadn’t event been open yet was on the cart as well. She set the sugar container and the milk and cream out in the middle of the table. As she did, Harry and Draco noticed her hands were wrapped in linen bandages. 

“Mother, what happened to your hands?” Draco asked.

“Oh…I burnt them while I was working in the kitchen.”

“SInce when do you work in the kitchen?” 

“Since we’ve had to dismiss all the staff.” she replied, “In order for us to keep a low profile, your father thought it best no one else was here.” 

She poured four cups of tea with trembling hands causing some to slosh out. “Freshly imported Darjeeling…from the merchant market yesterday.” 

“Thank you…” Harry said, gratitude was barely loud enough for her to hear. 

“Indeed.” 

Draco did not say thank you. Instead he just picked up the sugar cubes with the tongs, and began to add adornments to his cuppa. Two sugars, a two splashes of cream, one teaspoon of milk– in the same way he always did. He then proceeded to add about four sugars to Harry’s– the way he knew he liked it. 

“Thanks.” 

Draco and Harry both took a sip of their tea. 

“Where’s Father?” Draco asked, voice distorting with an icy contempt when he mentioned Lucius. 

“He hardly leaves the study these days.” she replied, “I shall go and fetch him.” 

When she disappeared again, Harry took in the formal dining room. The giant chandeliers, the massive fireplace…the dark wizard artifacts on the mantle at the foot of the massive family portrait. The eerie quiet. He took another sip of tea. He and Draco exhcnaged glances. 

“I appreciate you coming…” Draco said, “But I should warn you– my father will likely be quite cross and unpleasant because you’re here….”

“It’s fine. I’m not here for him.” Harry replied. He reached across the table and squeezed Draco’s clammy hand. Draco squeezed back. Once more they found themselves gazing with an ache of longing into one another’s eyes. Harry turned his body slightly. 

“It’ll be alright. Say your piece, like we’ve practiced, and then we’ll get out.” Harry said, “If I can give a testimony at a trial, you are more than capable of doing this.” 

Draco nodded. But his expression was just as pale and furrowed. And his hand had grown even more clammy in Harry’s grasp. 

Moments later, they heard the sound of heavy footsteps, the clack of heels, and the scrape of a cane on the floor, followed by hushed, bickering voices. 

TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING START.

Draco wrenched his hand away and tucked it under the table. 

“Listen, at any point if we need to leave…” Harry reached under the table and patted Draco’s thigh, “Just give the top of my leg a pat like this– and I’ll know, yeah?” 

Draco nodded. 

Narcissa and Lucius appeared in the the entryway of the dining room. Lucius was red-eyed and ashy, leaning heavily on his cane with one hand, and holding a used wine glass in the other. His clothes were slightly disheveled, and his hair had lost some of the platinum blonde pigment. There were sporadic streaks of gray. He looked both ill and like he had aged at least five years or more. He reeked of wine already. Draco and Harry could smell him from where they sat. 

As soon as Lucius saw Draco and Harry across the room, his nose turned up, and his lip curled. A glare of venom plastered across his face. He staggered towards them, cane dragging across the floor like nails on a chalkboard, looming over them like a shadow. Draco shrunk back in his chair. Harry’s hand curled around the butt of his wand. Still, Draco managed to meet his father’s icy gaze. 

“Hello, Father.” he said. Lucius glared. And then his eyes fell on Harry again. 

“ YOU!” Lucius snarled, pointy an accusatory finger, “How DARE you come back into my house! Narcissa! What in the seven hells are you playing at? Permitting this boy entry through the manor doors?” 

“This is just as much my house as it is yours, Lucius.” Narcissa replied firmly, “I can invite in who I want.” she pulled his chair out from the table, “Now, sit down so we can have a proper tea time.” 

“I will not. Have tea. With the one responsible for destroying our lives.” he spat, spittle flying through his teeth, “That blood traitor son of yours is already bad enough..” 

Draco shrunk in his seat. Lucius moved towards the table, cane dragging on the floor like nails across a chalkboard. 

“He’s your son too.” Narcissa retorted, “Now sit down.” she pressed. 

“I want Potter out . He is not welcome here.”  

“If you kick him out, I will leave and never come back.” Draco hissed a retort, “And your shallow ‘legacy’ will die with me.”  

“Excuse me?” LUcius whipped his glare from his wife to his son across the table. His cold gray eyes narrowed into slits. His glare sharpened. 

“That’s right. You heard what I said.”

“How dare you speak to me like that.” Lucius snarled. 

“Harry stays.” Draco repeated.

Lucius lip curled up in disgust again. His cold gray eyes narrowed into slits. His glare sharpened. . “You dare talk to me like that IN MY OWN HOUSE!?”

Draco wilted into his seat. Harry glared across the table, pulling his wand out of the holster. 

Narcissa swept forward and grabbed his arm. “ Lucius !” she hissed through gritted teeth, “I said sit down .” She pushed him down into the chair by his shoulder, “You will not start us off like this.” she warned, her sharp-eyed warning glare enough to quell the venom. He relented. 

“Fine. Very well.” 

She poured him another glass of wine and sat down beside him. He drank it greedily, as if he hadn’t already finished a whole bottle today. He took a deep breath.

“You have some nerve, boy.” Lucius continued lowly, speaking to Draco now, “Showing your face in my dining room after what you pulled on the battlefield that day.” 

“Don’t worry,” Draco replied quietly, “We shan’t stay long. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to be.”   

Lucius’s glare sharpened even more. 

“What in the seven hells were you thinking boy? Running in front of Lord Voldemort like that? Don’t you know you could’ve been killed!?” Lucius exclaimed, “Not to mention you ruined everything with that stunt of yours!” 

Harry’s brows furrowed. 

“No. YOU ruined everything!” Draco replied.

Lucius stiffened. 

 “I wouldn’t have had to if you wouldn’t have FORCED me to be part of your self-fullfilling prophecy my whole life!” Draco replied, “I want nothing to do with it. All it’s done is make my life a living hell.” 

Lucius gritted his teeth. “Then why in the hells did you walk through those doors, then?” 

“To tell you that to your wilting face, old man.” Draco said, “And to see the look on it when I gloat about how much better off I am without you. 

Lucius’s expression twisted with a mixture of hurt and bitter anger, with a slight hint of sharp pain.. Narcissa melted into her chair, the words a stinging bullet through her chest. Harry sipped quietly on his tea, watching it unfold. Draco took another drink from his own cup.

“I came here to say goodbye.” Draco continued, “To show you I am alive and well. And tell you that I am going my own way. I’m done trying to make you proud, Father, because I’ve accepted I never will. And I’d rather off myself than be anything like you. I don’t want anything to do with you and your ambitions anymore.” 

“--You are having delusions of grandeur, Draco.” Lucius replied, “Blood traitor or not, you are the sole heir of the Malfoy family. It is your birthright and your purpose. You will do what is required of you, whether you want it or not, you can never escape it.”

“I don’t care.” Draco said simply.

“ What?” Lucius hissed. 

“I. Don’t. Care.”  Draco replied, “You can’t tell me what to anymore, Father. I am of age, therefore, the only person who gets to decide how I live my life is me. Myself. And I. Not you. Not Mum. Me .” 

Lucius’s wine glass slammed on the table. He reached for his cane. Draco’s glare did not waver. Harry stiffened and pulled his wand fully out of the holster. Lucius pushed back his chair. 

“How. Dare you. Speak to me like that!” Lucius glowered. He  got up from the table. He wove around it towards Draco, grip tightening on his cane. It dragged against the wood grain like nails across a chalkboard. He staggered his way towards them, the nauseating, sour reek of wine becoming an unbreathable suffocation. “Filthy, ungrateful stain of dishonor! Blood traitor!” 

He staggered against the table, the resounding clack of dishes filling the air. He raised the cane over his head. Draco froze. “How dare you! How dare you!” Draco curled himself into hump, bracing himself for the blow.

“Lucius! STOP! STOP IT!” Narcissa’s shrieked across the room. 

“ Expelliarmus!” a blast of red light flew out of Harry’s wand and sent the cane flying across the dining hall and clattered to the floor. 

Narcissa grabbed Lucius from behind and yanked him back with all the strength she could muster. 

“Go!” Narcissa ordered, “I’ll send an owl with your things.” 

“You will do no such thing!” Lucius spat.

“Draco, come on. You heard your Mum. Let’s go. We should never have come.” Harry returned his wand to the holster. Draco scrambled out of his chair and bolted to Harry’s side. Harry pulled Draco into his arms without thinking twice. 

“Don’t you ever set foot in this house again, boy!” Lucius snarled after them. 

Harry cast him a nasty death glare and disapparated. 

CONTENT/TRIGGER END.

Chapter Text

(10) Lay Me By Your Side

Draco was silent when they got back to Grimmauld Place. And even when the smoky haze cleared, Draco clung to Harry like he was clinging to dear life. Harry simply held him tightly, and escorted him inside, up into the most secure place he knew– his own room. He sat him on the edge of the four-poster bed, and then placed himself beside him. He wrapped an arm around Draco’s shoulders. Draco was still stiff and glassy eyed. Harry turned on the radio, hoping that some music would quell Draco’s nerves.

 As soon as they were seated, Draco buried his face into the side of Harry’s neck, the clammy crook providing comfort. Harry made no move to push him away, and instead, rubbed circles on the side of Draco’s thin arm.  

“...Hey…” Harry eventually began, “You did great. You said everything you needed to say. You did what you had to do.” he squeezed the other boy’s arm. “...we’re alright now. You’re safe.” Harry reassured, “I’ve got you.” 

Draco’s breath trembled against Harry’s neck as he worked to calm himself down. Harry rubbed his shoulder, and tilted his head against Draco’s. And they sat like that for several moments. Harry held Draco’s hand. Draco refused to move, clinging to the comfort of the other boy’s embrace. Harry didn’t let go. 

He didn’t want to. 

Two Summers Ago...

“Stop mewling, you weak-witted boy!” someone growled, “We told you not to scream!” Rough hands shoved him down into the floor by his cheek.  Draco was sobbing. He tasted blood. 

Please, please stop! I can’t take it! It HURTS! 

“Grab a cloth, then. If I mess up, there’ll be the devils to pay!” Bellatrix hissed. 

The next thing Draco knew, someone had shoved a rolled cloth between his teeth and tied it tight around his face. 

“Use your energy to bite down on the cloth instead of crying out, you wretched child." Avery hissed in his ear. 

Draco screwed his burning eyes.

The red hot knife continued to slice into his arm.

Moments later, everything went black.

-xXx- 

Then there was the darkness. Distant voices. Eerie voices. 

“Is he dead?” 

“No, he’s just fainted. Couldn’t handle the pain.” 

Draco awoke to the acrid, metallic smell of blood. His arm was burning. All he saw was red. He laid there in the middle of that twisted Horoscope chart. His eyes were glossed over, partially closed. His face burned with the tears now staining his face, and he stared hopelessly at the carving on his arm bleeding out on the floor. He couldn’t breath through his mouth. The cloth they’d tied between his teeth and told him to bite down on was restricting him, and rubbing like a rug burn around his face. 

His arm was extended, red with irritation, and the carving was pulsing and bleeding down the edges of his arm and onto the floor. The Dark Mark was raw, gloating, and angry. All he could do was stare, glassy eyed at the bloodbath. 

The next thing he knew, a cold hand was tracing the outline of the seething, bloody carving. The iciness soothed the excruciating pain coursing through his veins. It spoke softly to him, in a gentle timbre he could only describe as a haunting croon. The voice whispered words of shallow praise that pierced him straight through the heart. He told Draco he was “proud” of him. Whispered “well done”. Through his blurred gazed, he stared up at his savior– Lord Voldemort hovered over him- glowing in the moonlight like some twisted, almost “angelic” presence– simultaneously comforting and terrifying in ways Draco couldn’t understand. . 

Then the hissing tongues again. But he was too exhausted to shrink at the sound of it filling the room. Instead, he welcomed it as a gentle lull to sleep, a cooling embrace. Someone poured a cooling potion over laceration, and the last of the pain faded into nothing. He watched the blood on his arm quickly coagulate over the Mark, and then turn black as it melted into the freshly carved wound. 

“There now. Leave him lying.” Voldemort ordered, “He’ll be along. Severus, stay. Tend your student. The rest of you, come. There is much work to be done.” 

The door to the covenstead slammed closed. Then silence. Snape undid the cloth tied around Draco’s face. It fell away, and he was able to breathe through his mouth again. Snape tugged Draco from the ground and helped him sit up. He gave him a glass of water. 

“You must let it heal naturally.” he said, “It’ll be alright in a few days’ time.” Draco sipped on his water, lightly, for his head was still spinning and nausea still clawed at his stomach. 

“Do you think…” Draco began, voice raspy and meek, “My father will be proud?” 

Snape nodded in the dark, expression unreadable. 

In a hazy blur like an apparition warp, the scene shifted. It was less than a week later. 

In the grand drawing room, Narcissa stood still as stone, with her hand placed firmly on Draco’s shoulder. Draco’s pale face was carefully blank, though his stormy eyes swirled with a cacophony of negative emotions. His usual arrogance was gone, replaced by a rigid, fearful silence. Across the grand drawing room, the Dark Lord watched them both, snake-like eyes half-lidded. He sat in Lucius’s armchair, face shadowed by the flickering fireplace, gingerly stroking Nagini, who was coiled around the chair, watching them with hungry eyes. 

Voldemort rose, smooth as vapor, gliding closer to them. “Lucius has disappointed me. He has cost me... valuable assets. And the price must be paid.” he said, “Typically, such a critical failure would cost the lives of the entire bloodline.” 

The color drained from Narcissa’s face.

“However, I am not without mercy. Draco stiffened. Voldemort’s eyes pierced through them, “So I have decided I shall give you, young Draco, a chance to prove the strength of the Malfoy bloodline.” Narcissa’s grip tightened on Draco’s shoulder. A flicker of feared flashed across Draco’s face. 

“My dear boy. In order to prove yourself and the strength of the Malfoy bloodline, you will kill Albus Dumbledore.”   Voldemort said. 

The name landed like a thunderclap. Draco blinked, but made no sound. Narcissa let out a strangled gasp. 

“Please my Lord, he is only–”

“Silence, sister!” Bellatrix hissed, “Do not beg! Do not question the Dark Lord’s will! You shame our family!” Voldemort raised a gaunt white hand. Bellatrix fell silent. 

“It must be you, young Draco.” Voldemort said, “"Serve me well, and you will be rewarded. Fail, and your whole family will understand the meaning of disgrace... and death. Fail, and you will all pay with your lives, one right after the other." 

Draco, white as the marble floor he stood on, met Voldemort’s gaze at once. There was terror in his eyes , but he kept his composure. “Yes, my lord.” he replied. 

Voldemort smirked. 

“Good.” he said, “You may go.” 

Dumbledore was dead. And the chamber was cold.

The iciness clawed hungrily at the ancient stones of the manor. It was cold like old graves and colder still than the Dark Lord who now sat, unmoving, upon a throne of blackened wood and silence. A parseltongue whisper echoed across the room. It was Nagini. Informing Lord Voldemort of the new arrivals. 

A soft crack split the hush as the heavy doors parted. Lucius Malfoy entered, pale as parchment, rugged, hallowed, and bloodshot in the eyes. His long fingers tightened around the cane he no longer needed but clung to like a lifeline. Behind him, barely audible, walked Draco—shoulders rigid, breath shallow, trembling.

They stopped several paces from where the Dark Lord sat with Nagini coiled around his shoulders and the back of the grand chair. 

And they waited.

Voldemort did not look up. His pale fingers moved slowly over the armrest, caressing the freshly lacquered wood grain. His silence stretched long and cruel. 

At last, the Dark Lord spoke.

"You failed." The whisper was icy nails on a chalkboard. It echoed cruely across the room, richoeted off the walls. It was not a question. Not an accusation. Merely a fact, laid down like the cold edge of a scalpel.

Draco swallowed. Lucius opened his mouth, but Voldemort lifted a single finger—and it was enough.

"You were given a gift, Draco. A task of honor. And you… could not do it."

There was a whisper of movement. The tap of bare feet upon the flagstones. He descended from his throne like a looming shadow. His long robes billowed like smoke as he closed in and drew his wand. Draco tried not to flinch when the tip of the wand pressed against his adam’s apple. 

"Tell me why."

"I—I couldn't," Draco whispered. "He—he was unarmed. He… he was already dying."

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed, and something ancient and cruel flickered in them.

"So you chose mercy over destiny." He tasted the words like venom. "How touching ."

Draco paled further, but his lips pressed into a trembling line.

Voldemort turned his back.

"Dumbledore still died," Lucius said quickly, voice brittle with desperation. "Snape—he—"

Voldemort’s voice was silk soaked in acid. He turned slowly. "You speak of Severus?"

Lucius nodded once.

Voldemort stepped forward until Lucius was forced to meet his gaze. The silence screamed again. 

"And do you think I asked him to do it?"

Lucius blinked. 

"No, my lord."

"No," Voldemort echoed, voice colder than death. "I chose Draco, and Draco failed . You both failed. Such a disgrace.” 

He turned again, robes slicing the air behind him. 

"You see, Lucius," he said, "a failure in action is not the same as a failure of spirit. Your son had the wand. He had the moment. And he let it pass. That is incompetence. That is weakness ."

He flicked his wand once, lazily. Draco’s knees buckled. With a sudden yelp, an invisible cord wrapped around his body, dug thorns into his flesh, and yanked him to the floor. He landed hard on the cold stone at Voldemort’s feet, the breath torn from his lungs. 

"Perhaps," Voldemort mused, circling him, "We can cure you of this softness. Or perhaps, like your father… You are best suited to watching.” Voldemort said, “...Or perhaps , Lucius, you and your family are no longer of use to me and I should just kill you now.” he furthered. He flicked his wand again. The invisible chords tightened around Draco’s body, dug into his flesh like thorns, dragged him across the icy marble. Draco whimpered. He was thrown down before the snake. She flickered her tongue as if licking non-existent lips. She slithered close, looming over him. 

 “After all, Nagini grows hungry again, and I think she would be quite pleased to receive such a hearty meal.” The snake hissed. Draco’s eyes widened, he began to squirm. Voldemort jolted his wand. The invisible thorns tightened around Draco’s neck. He gasped for air as the breath was pulled from his lungs. No, please, please! I'm sorry...please...please! 

Lucius’s eyed widened with dread. “My lord, please…” he whispered. 

Voldemort smirked cruelly.

“...But I think not.” he replied, “It would be a shame to waste pure blood.” 

Voldemort turned back towards the heap of the boy on the floor. The invisible coils of thorns loosened slightly. Draco let out a massive, strained gasp. He coughed and spluttered, taking in a breath of life-saving air. 

"Let us hope, Draco, that your next opportunity arrives soon. And that you greet it like a man… rather than a frightened boy.”

The chords vanished. Draco's breath fully returned. Shakily, he began to drag himself off the ground. Voldemort’s eyes narrowed to slits. He pointed his wand at him again. “ Crucio !” A flash of red struck Draco in the back and knocked him to the floor again. Excruciating pain ripped through his body, and a ragged scream of pain ripped out of his throat. Lucius winced. 

Voldemort bared his teeth like a smiling devil. 

“Crucio!” 

Draco continued to scream. Lucius stood frozen in terror and watched. 

“Father!” Draco called out through his cries, “Father! Father, please! Help me!” 

Lucius didn’t move.

“Draco! Draco, wake up !” someone was violently rattling him by the shoulders. 

Draco lurched off his pillow, gasping, clawing for breath. Tears burned down his cheeks, and the room spun around him. His blood pounded in his ears. His heart was pounding so hard thought it would shatter his diaphragm. 

“Draco! Hey, hey it’s alright, come on!” 

The haze in the room cleared. The pain was gone. Replaced instead with the solid grip of warm, coarse hands. The smell of that all-too-familiar cheap cologne. 

And suddenly Voldemort was gone and Harry was there. 

“You’re alright, I promise. It was just a nasty dream. I’ve got you.” Harry’s voice was the calm in the storm.

Draco was shaking. He sobbed, whimpered under his breath. Harry pulled him close, embraced him like a blanket. Draco’s hands twisted into the fabric of Harry’s pajamas, and he clung to him for dear life. Harry’s steady heartbeat thrummed rhythmically against the rattled, thundering race of Draco’s and the blonde gasped for air. 

“It’s over now.” Harry rubbed Draco’s back, ran his hand through the platinum hair, “I’ve got you…” Draco buried himself into Harry’s warmth.

Eventually, his pulse and his breathing slowed down to normal, and the terror was gone. Draco shakily pulled away and found Harry’s warm green gaze, which was fixed with solemn understanding. Draco averted his gaze in shame. As soon as he did, warm fingertips lightly pressed against his jaw and turned it back. 

“Draco, hey, look at me.” Harry’s voice was gently authoritative.  

“It’s alright. I know it must have been terrible, but it’s all just a bad memory now, yeah?” 

Draco blinked his teary eyes at Harry, and mustered a tiny, meek nod.  

“He used the torture curse on me…” Draco whispered, “And my father did nothing to stop him…he just watched it happen…” 

Harry embraced him tight. “I’m sorry…” he murmured. 

Draco clung to Harry a bit longer, before reluctantly pulling away. The air between them was cold again. The distance between them returned. Harry’s hands hovered, as if torn between giving him space and pulling him back in. Draco looked down at his trembling hands, hating the emptiness, the silence, but above all the vulnerability…and the hollow ache where Harry had been.

“What do you need from me right now?” Harry asked. 

Draco's throat felt tight. It was raw from crying out. He forced the words from his lips. “Don’t…Don’t go.” 

Harry furrowed his brows and blinked. His breath caught. 

Draco’s throat tightened, but he pressed on. “Stay. Stay with me…just for tonight. That’s…what I need from you.” he said. Draco’s cheeks flushed in the dark. 

For a heartbeat, Harry didn’t answer. His gaze shifted– first to the door– then back at Draco. His heart thrummed wildly in his chest. His lips parted to speak– and Draco instantly seemed to shrink into himself, bracing for the rejection. Harry hesitated. 

“I would prefer not to be alone…” Draco said, cheeks burning. 

Harry nodded slowly. He got up and fumbled to the other side, clamoring into bed. Draco slid back down, nestling beside him, neslting into the pillows. Harry pulled the blanket up around them. Then, in a gesture that was meant to soothe, he wrapped his arm around Draco and moved closer. Draco stilled against him. Harry’s pulse kicked. 

“Better?” 

“A bit…” Draco nodded, tucking in. His heartbeat pulsed against Harry’s side. 

“Your heart’s still racing.” Harry said. 

Draco’s hand pressed over Harry’s chest, “So is yours…” 

The fragile words hung between them. Neither made the slightest move to separate. They stared at the ceiling for a moment. 

 Then Draco’s storm-greay gaze met fern-depth green again. Neither of them spoke. Harry’s throat worked as if he might, but no words came. Draco’s breath ghosted across his cheek and Harry realized just how close they were.

“I…” 

Draco’s fingers twitched. “Harry…” Draco tilted his head up. His lips parted, hesitant, uncertain. He was leaning in. The space shrank between them. 

Harry’s breath shuttered. His heart hammered in his head. 

“Draco, I…” Harry’s fingertips came up as a barrier before Draco could seal the space between them, “I don’t think now is the best time…you should get some sleep.”  

Draco’s breath trembled. He stopped in his tracks. His storm grey eyes misted over again, glimmering in the moonlight. “No, you’re probably right…”  he replied meekly, pulling away. He turned onto his other side, away from Harry. 

“...But…” Harry reached out for him, “...I’m not going anywhere.” he reassured, lightly squeezing his shoulder, “And I don’t mind if you want to tuck in a bit closer…that’s alright…just…yeah…” 

So Draco rolled back onto his other side, and did just that. It was an adequate compromise, and the feeling of rejection dissipated into the air. 

Chapter Text

(11) The Last Thread

A summer storm raged out the window. Rain pattered against the windows. The old house groaned and creaked from a merciless wind. 

Draco sat on the edge of the bed and watched the storm rage on. He clutched the note in his hands for a moment…read it again…and then cast it in the fire, watched the parchment wither and crumble to ash. 

Draco rolled up his sleeve and felt the angry churn in his stomach when his pale, dark-marked forearm glared back up at him. He picked up his wand from and pointed it at the mark. 

“Mors signum evanesca.” his said. Smoke sparked out of his wand and violently struck the symbol. An angry hiss came from the snake and an excruciating hot knife ripped across his arm. Draco winced. His arm turned red with irritation. 

“I said signum evanesca!” Draco exclaimed. The snake hissed back and another bout of seething pain engulfed Draco’s skin. 

“Signum evanesca!” Nothing. Just searing blades of fire and angry red flesh. A hissing snake. Hissing in such a way that to Draco it sounded like laughter. It reamined there, bold and dark. Mocking him.

“There’s no use fighting it! Your master’s DEAD! You have no power anymore, so GO! Get off ME!” Draco exclaimed, “...Mors signum demarcesca!” This spell was less painful, but again the snake just hissed in response, striking at him from the flesh. 

Uggh! Dammit!  Dammit…Draco kicked the edge of the bed. Dammit, dammit, dammit!  He glared at the wretched thing through burning tears.  

His eyes narrowed. He made a sharp slashing motion over the mark. “Diffindo!” A sharp stinging sensation tore across his skin. A perfect cut welled dark with blood and spilled over the brand. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared. The blood soaked into the dark ink and added a reddish tint, making the mark darker. The cut disappeared. 

“Fine!” He yelled, “You won’t leave? Then I’ll just maim you beyond recognition, you hideous creature!” Draco was so overtaken by anger and frustration that he forgot the dark mark was branded onto his own skin. He steadied his breath, brandished his wand. “S…Sectumsem-” 

“Expelliarmus!” 

The white light at the tip of the wand exploded into a shower of sparks as it fell from Malfoy’s grasp onto the floor. 

“What the bloody hell are you doing!?” Harry was huffing and puffing in the doorway, he had his wand brandished in one hand, and a book under other arm, “Are you trying to take off your own arm?” 

“No– I…” Draco glared up at Harry with wet, reddened, wide eyes. “It won’t come off!” Draco exclaimed, “The stupid mark! No matter what I do, it…stays…and the snake…it just mocks me. It’s like the wretched thing has a mind of its own…I want it gone!” 

That’s right. A thought suddenly crossed Harry’s mind. It IS a snake. I wonder if… He set the disappointing book, titled “How to Remove Enchanted Signets”, on the ottoman at the end of the bed and moved to Draco’s side. 

Harry perked up, “It’s a snake, right? Here. I have an idea. Let me have a go.” Harry sat down on the edge of the bed beside the other boy. Draco curled his arm to his chest.

 “Come on.” Draco studied him with pained skepticism. 

Harry smiled softly, reached for his hand, “Don’t you trust me?” 

Draco’s arm relaxed slightly and he let Harry pull it towards his lap. Harry steadied Draco’s arm in a secure grip, and made sharp eye contact with the snake. He said something to it in parseltongue. 

The hissing whispers sent a horrible shiver down Draco’s back and he stiffened in terror. He bit his lip and screwed his eyes together. His breath quickened. The color left his face. 

no …please…stop…please….STOP!

A warm sensation spread across his arm. When Draco thought he was going to scream and wrench his hand away, the horrible noise stopped. 

“Draco, hey. It’s alright. You’re alright.” a warm voice dwindled his fears, “Open your eyes. Look.” 

Light eyelashes slowly fluttered open and found the left forearm again. The snake was slowly uncoiling itself. It unwound and recoiled into the mouth of the skull. And then the mark vanished. Leaving nothing but an infinity shaped scar where it had once been. 

“It’s gone….” For a moment he just stared at the thin scar, “For the most part…” he stared longer. Waiting for it to come back. And it didn’t. He looked up at Harry with the most grateful expression he’d ever plastered on his face. Harry lowered his wand. 

Thunder rolled outside, a soothing rumble and perfect accompaniment to the rain pattering against the glass. 

The next thing Harry knew, Draco’s lips pressed against his cheek for a sweet, chaste moment. His cheeks flooded with heat. Draco pulled away, beaming with a new confidence. 

“Thank you.” 

Harry ran his fingertips across Draco’s scarred, pale forearm. “If I had known that was all it took, I would have removed it weeks ago…” 

“It’s alright. It’s gone. That’s what matters.” Draco replied. 

Harry nodded, the soft warmth, the phantom remnant of Draco’s kiss still lingering on his cheek. 

“What did you say to it by the way?” 

“To kindly piss off because its work was done.” 

Draco chuckled. “Really?”  

“Yeah.” 

Another soft laugh escaped Draco’s throat. Their voices faded to silence, and the white noise of the storm outside soothed the tension from their shoulders.

Draco beamed at Harry. Harry beamed back. Harry’s heart fluttered, and a warm sensation embraced him like a soft blanket. They sat together in a comfortable silence, and watched and listened to the rain out the window, side by side. As they sat, their hands unconsciously slid across the duvet. The next thing Harry knew, Draco’s fingers were slipping perfectly in the spaces between his own, and then a pale blonde head leaned against his brunette one. 

The classical music record played quietly in the background, a perfect accompaniment to the patter of rain and the sound of the steady breath between them. 

“You know, I’ve just thought of something,” Draco finally said after awhile. His stormy eyes met warm firm depths when he spoke, Harry adjusted his glasses and blinked down. “With the Dark Mark gone, there’s only one thread left to cut.”

“What do you mean?” 

“My mum never did mail me the rest of my things.” Draco replied, “And I’d like to go and fetch them.” 

“Wha- you mean like go back to the manor?” 

“Well how else am I supposed to get them?” 

“Are you sure you want to do that?” 

“Yes. I’m quite tired of living off of hand-me-downs and out of my schoolbag.” 

“That makes sense.” Harry affirmed, “But are you sure you’re ready to go back and face everything again? I’ll support you, of course, but I just want to check.” 

“Yes. I am,” Draco replied, “But of course, I won’t be going alone. You’ll be with me.” 

“Right. Yeah, absolutely. I wasn’t going to let you go alone even if you tried.” Harry agreed, “But I’m not the only one who should go with you. I think a trip like this will need a bit of an entourage.” 

Draco’s expression hardened slightly. “Are you suggesting we bring Weasley and Granger along too?” 

“Yes.” Harry replied, “I think we’re gonna need them.” 

-xXx-

And that was how the four of them ended up sitting around an awkward dinner table that evening, with Draco casting wary, cold glances at Ron and Hermione. 

“I can’t believe I agreed to this.” he grumbled, picking at his food. 

“We don’t like it either, but we told Harry we’d show up for this if he asked us to.” said Hermione. 

“All I’ve got to say is you better not be the reason we’re caught by my father, Weaslebee. There’ll be hell to pay if we are.” Draco grumbled, “It’s already difficult enough having to get inside without being seen…” . 

“Oi, why are you jabbin’ at me, mate?” Ron glowered. 

Draco simply glared across the table. 

Before any other jabs could be made, however, the sound of the door opening caught their attention, and Harry came into the dining room with a familiar garment in his hands. 

“Harry, thank stars.” Draco commented. 

“Harry?” Ron mouthed at Hermione, befuddled that he had heard his best mate’s first name come out of Malfoy’s mouth, as opposed to the sharply enunciated “Pottah” he was was used to. Hermione shrugged. 

“Well, they have been living together since May.” Hermione replied. 

“So then, Harry, are are we getting in?” Draco asked. Harry set the garment in the middle of table, and he, Ron, and Hermione took a moment to full spread it out.

“With this.” He indicated the invisibility cloak spread out flat on the table. 

"And how do you expect all of us to fit under that?" Draco asked. 

Hermione drew her wand, "Like this." she pointed the wand at the garment and gave it a wave, "Engorgio!” The cloak grew three– four sizes, “That ought to do it.” 

“I’ll just test to make sure it works.” Harry said. He pulled the cloak off the table and swished it over his frame. He disappeared where he stood.

“It works.” Hermione confirmed. 

Harry reappeared. . 

“Right. So all that’s left to do is apparate there, get in, grab the goods, and get out.” Harry confirmed. 

“I’ll apparate us.” Draco volunteered. 

“No bloody way. You’ll splinch us.” Ron protested. 

“I will not. I am just as capable of apparition as you lot, Weaslebee, probably even better at it.” 

Ron scowled, “Hermione’s doing it.” 

“He knows the way better than me, Ron.” Hermione replied. 

“But…” 

“Harry?” At this point, all eyes were on the bespectacled boy, “What do you think?”

“I trust Draco.” Harry confirmed, “If we want the quickest and easiest path in and out…it’s probably best.”

“If Harry trusts him, Ronald, so do I.” Hermione agreed. 

He huffed, “Alright, fine. You’re the boss, Minnie.” 

“That’s right~” She smiled sweetly at him. They shared cringe-worthy, honeymoon-phased ogling eyes at each other, to which Draco scrunched up his nose. Harry grinned.  

“Okay. Let’s get going, then.” 

They cleared the dinner table, then returned to the task at hand. Draco was pushed to the middle of the group. And with some stumbling, they all scooted in close together. Harry took his hand, Hermione took his arm, and Ron took her free one. Harry swished the invisibility cloak over all of them. Engulfed by what felt like a warm embrace, Draco closed his eyes, and disaprated with a whoosh. 

And when the haze cleared, they were standing before the large cast iron gates. 

Chapter Text

(12) Fresh Out the Slammer

“--Oi, stop pulling on me–it’s this way- isn’t it?” 

“Ow, you stood on my foot, Ronald!” 

“Sorry…” 

“Shh! You’re gonna spring the dogs on us with all your racket.” Draco hissed.  

With a feat of hushed bickering, the group approached the gates. It was locked. Draco drew his wand, stuck it out of the invisibility and with a flick and an incantation that was definitely some kind of dark magic variety, the locks opened with several clicks, and the large, pointy gate swung open. 

“This way.” Draco led them up the winding pathways to the front entry. 

“The front door? Malfoy–what are you playing at?” Ron demanded. 

“Intruders are always expected to enter in through the windows or the back, never the front.” he tugged them up front steps to the giant double doors. They casted a muffling enchantment on the door and then Malfoy took a fancy silver key with a jewel-eyed snake coiled around the top, drew a breath, and unlocked the door. It swung open to an eerie front room lit by dim candles. 

Beside Harry, Draco stiffened. On his other side, so did Hermione. Ron immediately took her hand in the dark. 

“You alright, Minnie?” Ron whispered. 

“I’m fine.” 

Harry’s fingers found Draco’s. The blonde’s grip tightened on them. With a collective breath, they tiptoed through the door and shut it behind them. As soon as they stepped into the room. Once inside they could hear snoring from the depths of the house. From There was snoring hump in one of the fancy armchairs. The shadow of potion clutter on the side table. Two dark shapes curled at the foot of that chair. They were all snoring collectively beside the crackling orange flame. 

“What is that?” Ron whispered. 

“I-It’s my father…” Draco failed to hide the trembling in his voice. 

“No…I mean the things…the things at his feet…” 

“They’re dogs, Weaslebee.” Draco hissed, “Hounds– if we wake them, that’s it…” One of the dogs’ ears twitched. The other one shifted in its sleep. The group fell silent and tightened their grips on their wands. Lucius continued to snore. 

“So we sneak passed them.” Harry said. 

“The stairs are this way–” Malfoy tugged him into the right direction. He spoke in a soft whisper, “Be silent as the grave– one sudden sound, movement’ll wake the dogs…and my father will hear them…the dogs are harmless…but….” His heart pounded against his chest and his breath quickened. “When we get to the steps only step on the ones I tell you– they get creaky in the middle…even so much as a creak in the floorboards can wake the dogs…follow my lead…don’t say anything…” They reached the foot of the stairs, glanced at the sleeping shapes behind them. Draco stepped forward and stepped on the first one. The group followed…then the second, third… 

They took it slow, took it painstakingly…one…step…at…a time… 

The sixth one groaned and nearly gave them all a heart attack. 

They seventh one they had to skip. The next set they had to skip two at a time. 

Almost there…almost there…. Draco couldn’t even hear the silence over the blood pulsating his ears. Just a few more steps to go… 

A loud creek suddenly engulfed the silence. The group collectively froze. 

“Weasley!” Draco hissed through gritted teeth. 

“Oi! That wasn’t me, mate!” Ron replied with a whisper yell. 

“Sorry…” Harry murmured. 

They waited in silence. One of the dogs perked up and stared out the drawing room. 

“Dormire…” [Door-meer-ay] Hermione whispered behind her hand, flicking her wand. The white light that shot out from the wand took the form of a tiny, prancing sheep. It leapt daintily across the air. 

A muffled, warning “woof” exited the dog’s throat. Lucius moved in the shadows. 

Draco’s heart dropped to his stomach, “Granger! What the hell are you–” 

The spectral sheep hit the dog’s nose, and exploded into a shower of fairy-like dust. The dog snorted it through the nostrils and blinked. Then swayed and flopped down into a deep sleep with snores to boot. A silent sigh of relief engulfed the group and they continued up the stairs. 

When they cleared the final step, they remembered to breathe again. 

“My chambers are here.” Draco pushed open the double doors at the end of the hall, and they all piled in through the door. He closed and bolted it behind them. The candles by flickered to life. Draco quickly put out the ones closest to the door, and everyone shrugged off the invisibility cloak with a collective exhale. Hermione put up cloaking enchantments. 

“Blimey, you’ve got your own flat in here.” Ron commented. 

“Course I did.” He reached under the bed and plopped his Hogwarts trunk on the cedar chest at its foot. He opened it and pulled out all of the compartments. 

“You can sit down on the loveseat if you want, just don’t touch anything.” Draco told Ron. He swiftly crossed the room and opened the giant wardrobe, and began to pull his clothes from its depths, using his wand to thrown them all into the trunk, “Harry– can you help me?” 

“Oh– sure.” 

“I can help as well.” Hermione said, “The quicker we pack your trunk, the quicker we can get out of here.” 

“Fine. You can grab my books or something– they’re right there.” he pointed to the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf across on the other side of the fireplace. 

“You can’t just throw everything in the trunk like that, Draco. It won’t all fit. You have to fold and roll…like this, here…” Their shoulders and fingers brushed as Harry laid a pair of trousers out on the bed, demonstrated the technique, “Like this. Trust me, it’ll fit better…” 

“Right. Books are packed.” Hermione said, “What’s next? Toiletries?” 

“On the carousel and in the icebox on the bathroom counter–the baths supplies are in the shower. They go in the cosmetic bags. Handle them carefully, they’re expensive and there’s no way either of you can afford to replace anything.” 

“I will. Come on, Ron.” She dragged her partner in the bathroom before anyone could protest. 

Harry finished folding the clothes and then helped Draco carefully pack the small chest of family jewels he’d accrued. He recognized a couple of the rings. There was also jewlry he had never seen before– delicate chain necklaces, pendant necklaces, bracelets, a couple of velvet chokers with little brooches– there were also plain ones, and one particularly impressive green and silver bejeweled one. 

 Draco also threw in his gigantic allowance bag from the bedside table. Eventually, he sat down on the bed beside Harry and started helping him fold and pack away his clothing. 

“You alright?” Harry asked, setting Draco’s freshly folded Syltherin scarf and robes into the trunk with the rest of his uniform bits. 

“I just never thought I’d have to do this…” Draco said, “Leave my family’s home…” He laid down on the duvet and gazed up at the ceiling of four-poster canopy bed. “The fact that this is probably the last time I’m gonna lay in my own bed, I can’t quite wrap my head around it…” Harry squeezed his hand in understanding. 

“I’m…gonna miss my room…this house…the dogs…all of it…” 

“I mean it makes sense. You…you grew up in this manor, so…” 

Draco scooted up onto the duvet and placed his hands behind his head, and gazed up at Harry. 

“But…you know what I’m gonna miss the most about this bed?” 

The brunette studied him in befuddlement. Draco pointed up at the roof of the canopy bed. 

“The ceiling? Why the ceiling?” 

“Not just any ceiling, Potter– the– lie down, i’ll show you.” He sat up long enough to push Harry down onto the pillows by his shoulder. 

Once he was settled, Draco flicked his wand to close all the curtains– which Harry realized were black out curtains, pointed the wand at the ceiling, and said an incantation. 

“Noctem.” The roof of the canopy came to life as a beautiful, moving, starry, galaxy sky. 

“Whoa…” 

He flicked his wand again, “Diem.” The sky switched to blue and puffy clouds. The blue was so blinding, it hurt his eyes and he had to shield them. 

“Vespera.” The sky switched to a soft purple-gray dusk. 

“Oriens.” the sky switched to a warm sunrise. 

“Solis occasus.” The warm tones of pink, red, and orange, engulfed the bed.

“And this one’s my favorite. Aurora.” a miniature Aurora Borealis– Northern Lights– appeared on the roof of the canopy. 

“Wow…that’s…I mean that’s brilliant…” 

A poignant smile appeared on Draco’s face. “It’s a shame that this is the last time I’ll get to enjoy this.” 

“I mean…there’s always the option to enjoy a bigger, better version of this…” Harry offered, “I mean– not the Aurora, but, if you come back to Hogwarts with me, I’ll take you Stargazing.” 

Blush dusted Draco’s cheeks. The stars on the top of his canopy bed glinted brightly in his eyes. He turned to glance at Harry. “If I didn’t know better, Potter, I’d say you’re offering to take me out on a date.” 

Harry’s face flushed, “And suppose I am. Would you be interested?” the words stumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. He promptly turned into a tomato and opened his mouth as if to start spluttering incoherent apologies. Draco’s smile widened. 

“Granger’s right. You can be really thick sometimes, can’t you, Potter? I’ve always been interested.” Draco replied, “So yes. I think I would like a date with you, thank you very much.” 

They shared a smile, a soft, breathy chuckle. Harry took Draco’s hand, and they continued to gaze up at the enchanted canopy roof. 

“So you’re coming back to Hogwarts in the fall, then?” 

“If it means I get a date with the boy I fancy, then I’ll endure it.” Draco said.  

Harry smiled back like a buffoon. They gazed at each other, gazed at the aurora…each other…the Aurora…watched the stars and lights dance in each other’s eyes.

He’s turned into such a handsome boy..

Has Draco always been this good looking? . 

“No–Did I hear that right? Hermione–” 

“Shush Ronald.” 

Harry and Draco stiffened. They had nearly forgotten what they were “Finite incantatem.” The ceiling went out. They sat up and pulled away form each other. Draco drew back the curtains to reality again, and averted his gaze from Harry’s.

“It’s rude to eavesdrop you know.” Draco scoffed. 

“We weren’t eavesdropping, Malfoy.” Ron replied, “We were packing your thousands of beauty products away in your trunk and we just happened to hear you having a chat.” 

“You’ve got an impressive collection.” Hermione commented, “But why do you keep your skincare in an icebox though?” 

“Really? I’m surprised you don’t know considering you seem to know everything else.” Draco said, “But it extends their shelf life, keeps the active ingredients active, and reduces inflmmation because it’s cold.” 

“Fascinating. I had no idea.” 

“Well, now you know. Anyway. We need to finish packing my trunk…we’ve already been here too long…” 

They quickly finished packing up the trunk. When they were done, Draco’s room and bathroom were ¾ of the way empty. 

Draco cast one final, lingering glance around the room — a space that had once been his sanctuary and prison in equal measure. Then, in grim silence, he and the others heaved his heavy trunk and a few well-used bags out the door. Each slow, painful, deathly silent step down the stairs felt like wading through thick tar. It was a thousand miles towards the ground floor. 

And then—they reached the bottom.

Someone reached for the doorknob.

…Turned it. 

….Opened it.

A split second later, an icy, disembodied gust of wind slammed it shut with a bone-jarring crash. The candles extinguished instantly, and they were engulfed in darkness. 

Then—

An icy voice carved through the deathly silent air like the sharpened blade of a knife.  

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Time stopped. They froze. The blood in their veins turned to ice. Draco went rigid. The color drained from his face, turing his skin a sickly shade of white.

From the shadows, came a horrid, slow, grating scrape of a cane on the wood, accompanied by the heavy, staggering steps of boots. A silhouette staggered through the dark void of the corridor and appeared in the haunting candelight. 

It was  Lucius Malfoy.

He was a ghost of himself. Disheveled, pale rage glowered through the bloodshot eyes. “Just where do you think you’re going with all your things, son?” 

“I’m getting away from you.” Draco’s voice was ice. He continued. “You ruined my life, father.” 

Lucius didn’t flinch. His eyes burned. Draco did not back down. 

“If you take one step out that door, boy, you will never be permitted to enter this house again.”

Draco squared his shoulders, fury surging through him like wildfire. His glare hardened, and his voice grew stronger, louder, trembling. “Fine. I’m better off without you!” he said through gritted teeth. 

He drew in a sharp breath, and then, his voice, matching the venom of his father’s, split the air like lighting ripping through clouds, “Filthy blood purist!”

A horrid silence fell. 

Lucius’s voice came next, so soft and low it was barely audible, but every hissing syllable seethed with venom and froze the room. 

.

“…What. Did. you say?”

Draco took a step forward, voice ringing out, ““You heard me. I want nothing to do with this place, or you! Rot in this family’s ruin, old man!” 

The trio held their breath.

Lucius didn’t move. But something behind his eyes cracked — and whatever pride or control he once clung to shattered like glass on the floor. 

“How dare you speak to me like that!” Lucius spat, “You ungrateful little wretch! After everything I’ve done for you–” He swayed and staggered towards them. Draco drew his wand. His hand trembled, but he stood firmly. L.ucius stumbled again, gripping a new silver-capped, snake-headed cane.

Harry moved toward Draco, as if to shield him. Draco’s arm thudded against Harry’s chest, holding him back instinctively. His breath came fast and shallow. Sweat beaded on his brow, his pale face ghostly in the flickering candlelight.

Lucius stumbled closer, staggering on his new cane. Draco’s hand and arm thumped against Harry’s chest, pushing him back. Draco’s breath quickened. His wand hand shook violently in front of his face. 

“You dare arm yourself against your own father, boy?” He pulled his cane sharply — and from within, a wand slid free with a hiss, brand new, sleek, and deadly. He shallow breath reeked of alcohol- sticky and sour against the thick air. His expression distorted into excruciating anger– pained and icy. 

Betrayal. 

He pointed the wand directly at his son. 

Draco’s boots scraped against the stone as he widened his stance. His voice was barely audible, a quiver of defiance and fear.

“I do…” he choked out. His wand shook violently in his grasp. His wide-eyed gaze sharpened. He widened his stance, stood his ground.  

“Malfoy, don’t!” Ron shouted. “He’s not worth it!”

“Silence!”

A blast of white light erupted from his tip — and in an instant, Ron was struck dumb, the silencio charm hitting him square in the chest. He stumbled back, gasping, mute.

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione’s voice tore through the air like a thunderclap. Her spell whistled across the room, fast and fierce. Lucius ducked and swayed, the magic slicing past his shoulder.

His face contorted with pure disdain.

“How dare you! Filthy little mud—”

“Enough!”

A voice cut sharply through the room. Everyone’s head turned.

At the top of the stairs, Narcissa Malfoy, like a goddess in flowing black silk and midnight lace, stood like a specter summoned from the dark., and descended slowly. 

“Lucius! What is the meaning of this? What the hell are you doing?” her eyes burned with disbelief and fury towards her husband. She took in the scene. Her eyes abruptly fell upon her only child. 

“Draco…”

 She reached the base of the stairs and moved between her husband and son, undeterred by the thick tension or sparking, raised wands. She moved toward Draco to embrace him. 

Draco recoiled. He staggered back towards the door, back towards Harry, Ron, and Hermione without lowering his wand.

 “Draco…what…” The words died on her lips. She lowered her arms. Her heart shattered.

 “Goodbye Mother.” He lowered his wand and nodded to the group with swirling eyes. Harry grabbed one arm, Hermione the other. Ron took hold of the trunk and Hermione’s hand.. 

…And they disapparated with a thunderous crack

Chapter Text

(13) Clean 

The group stumbled into the dim, dusty halls of Grimmauld Place, the air thick with age and tension. The trunk crashed to the floor with a brutal, echoing thud that shook the portraits on the wall, rattling their dusty frames and waking the silence.

No one spoke. For a moment, all they could do was breathe.

And then as soon as he caught his breath again, Draco turned and fled, footsteps pounding on the stairs as he bolted to his room. 

“Draco—” Hermione called out, voice cracking, reaching after him—but he was already gone, swallowed by the shadows of the gloomy house.

“I’ll go check on him, Hermione. Look after Ron.” She nodded, and Harry hurried to follow him. He nearly knocked poor Kreature over during the pursuit. He stopped at Draco’s door, and quietly gave it a knock. 

There was a pause. Then movement inside. The door creaked open and Draco stood there in the shadows, eyes red, breathing shallow, shoulders still shaking. 

“Hey,” Harry said, carefully. “You alright?”

Draco, with a sudden flourish, grabbed Harry by the front of his shirt, yanked him into the room, slammed the door shut with a deafening bang, and shoved him back against the wall.

Harry’s breath hitched. 

Before the brunette’s could even blink, Draco's lips crashed into his with desperate force. Harry froze, stunned for a moment—then suddenly, a surge of heat shot through him, and he kissed back. 

And then—
It was over as quickly as it started.

Draco pulled away, breathless, cheeks burning crimson. His chest heaved with uneven gasps. And in the candlelight, Harry saw it—

Tears streamed warmly, freely down Draco’s pale cheeks. Red-faced, panting, Draco beamed at Harry in the candlelight. 

“I did it,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I’m… I’m rid of them…”

Harry blinked, still catching up, lips tingling, heart in his throat.

“Uhh… yeah,” he managed, Harry averted his gaze, blushing fiercely. He gave a short, stunned laugh.

Draco’s grip loosened. His cheeks turned beat red with realization. His eyes flicked down to where his hands were still fisted in Harry’s shirt. He let go.

“Sorry, Potter…” he said meekly, “I guess I… couldn’t wait for our date. I just… I really fancy you…”

Harry gave a breathless chuckle, brushing a hand through his hair, trying to slow the thundering pace of his heart.

“I feel the same.” He looked up at Draco, softening. “And hey… it’s alright. The kiss, I mean.” He gave an awkward half-smile. “Just caught me off guard, that’s all. I didn’t think our first kiss would be… well, that.”

Draco exhaled a laugh of pure disbelief, eyes shining.

Harry smiled reassuringly,  “But hey—no complaints. Just… give me a little warning next time before you snog me like that, yeah?”

Draco let out a short, choked laugh, somewhere between amusement and relief, the tension finally breaking in his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he breathed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sure…”

Silence again.

“Uhh....Tea…?” Draco suggested, “I think all four of us could use a spot of tea…after…that…” 

“Sure. Tea sounds…brilliant.” Harry nodded and stepped towards the door. Draco reached out for his hand, but then pulled back.

Harry caught the arc of movement in the corner of his eye, smiled softly, and then reached back. He wove his fingers in between the spaces of Draco’s, and firmly tightened his grip. Draco sighed with relief. They stepped out the door, and met Kreature in the corridor. 

“Kreature? Would you mind making us a pot of tea for four?” 

“Not at all Master Potter, not at all.” he nodded, glanced skeptically at the two boys holding hands, and then disapprated to the kitchen. Harry and Draco took the stairs. 

“...I’m fine, Minnie, really…it was just a silencing charm.”

“I know that, Ronald…I just…” 

When Draco and Harry arrived within sight of the living room, Ron was in one of the armchairs and Hermione was fussing over him. 

“Hope you two are planning on staying for tea.” Draco interrupted the interaction, “Harry’s just ordered the elf to make a spot for four.” 

“That sounds lovely, actually.” Hermione agreed. 

“Are we ‘avin’ biscuits too?” Ron asked. 

“I didn’t ask him to prepare any, but I can definitely–” 

“Kreature was going to make biscuits anyway.” the elf chimed in from the kitchen. 

“Brilliant.” Ron replied. It was then they both noticed that Harry and Draco were holding hands. Hermione glanced between their entwined fingers, their pink faces, and smiled. 

“What’s with the face Minnie– wait–” he followed her gaze and noticed too, “Why you holdin’ hands with Malfoy, Harry?” 

Their blushes darkened. 

“Hmmph.” Draco eventually scoffed, “Isn’t it obvious, Weaslebee? I fancy him, he fancies me. It makes perfect sense.” 

“Whot?” Ron’s brows knitted in confusion, “Wait, you’re into blokes, Harry? And you didn’t think to tell your best friend about it? You know you can tell me anything, come on.”  

“No. I happen to be interested in this particular bloke, Ron.” he smiled at Draco, “I just… didn’t know until now.” 

“Well, that’s alright, but like…whot?” 

“Ginny and I did.” Hermione chimed in, “We’ve always thought you and Malfoy fancied each other, Harry.” Draco fought the smirk tugging the corner of his mouth, “We’d talk about it in the dorms all the time. Actually, Ginny was the one who initially brought it to my attention.” 

“Whot!?” Ron continued to be flabbergasted. 

“She said it was something to do with a sixth sense called a “gaydar” that helped her figure it out.” Hermione continued. Harry remembered a past discussion he’d had with Ginny then, where she mentioned something about being bisexual, and wondered if that had anything to do with this supposed sixth sense. 

“I imagine that the reason you and Ginny were drawn to each other at all is because you’re both queer. What I’m saying, Harry, is that, it’s fine. You have our full support, if that’s something you’re worried about.” 

Ron shrugged, “Yeah. I mean– ‘course that’s alright with me, course you have my support, Harry.” 

“Thanks, guys.” 

“And I ‘spose we’ll come ‘round to you too, Malfoy. As long as you come ‘round to us. ‘Cause if you’re gonna be goin’ ‘round with Harry from now on, you’re sort of stuck with us.” 

“I figured that out the second I got here, Weasely. I’m not daft.” Draco confirmed. Harry sighed. It was somewhere between exasperation and relief. It was good to know he had support from his friends, but he also knew it was going to take awhile before the tension between Draco and the others fully ceased, if it ever did. 

“A-Anyways. While we’re waiting, we should probably move the trunk up to your chambers.” Hermione offered up a distraction, “You’ve got a lot to unpack, so we’re happy to assist while we’re waiting for tea. We may as well.” 

“Draco, what do you think?” Harry asked. 

“I ‘spose.” 

So, the four of them went to Draco's room. They unpacked as a quartet, with accompanying music and light banter between the trio. 

They had their tea, which was surprisingly pleasant, and then opted to work a bit longer before calling it a night. 

At one point, Draco and Hermione ended up in the bathroom alone, unpacking Draco’s abundance of beauty supplies. They were sorting through things, throwing old ones out, rearranging. 

Hermione had pulled her hair back and rolled up her sleeves when she broke a sweat. 

And that’s when Draco glimpsed it. It was scabbed over now, and would most certainly scar, but the message was still clear as the grimmest of days. 

Draco stopped in his tracks, and for a moment, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. She caught him staring. Her gaze hardened and she quickly yanked her sleeve back down to her wrist to cover it. 

“...Granger…listen…I…” How the hell do I say this?

“I…I still think you’re a haughty know it all…but for Harry, I’ll…” her glare hardened, “No, that’s not...B-but I…what I’m trying to say is…I never truly understood the weight, the…vileness of that term. Until my aunt Bellatrix did that. So for that I’d like to…formally….apologize…” he trailed off, then continued, “...and…for my part…I can’t guarantee I’m not gonna slip up…but…I’ll try not to ever call you that again.” 

“Thanks, Malfoy. That means…a lot.” she said, “For the record though, I still think you’re a prick. But if you’re going to make Harry happy, then…I can tolerate it.” she offered a smile, “I have to know, though. What are your intentions with him?”

“I…I fancy him. And, I want to be with him. And it’s not just because of his title, or what he did. It’s because he…he’s…Harry…he… I suppose he…makes me feel…loved…cared for…and…such…” 

“It’s not just a one-way street though. If you’re going to be with my best friend, you need to reciprocate that. Make him feel just as loved.” Hermione said, authority in her even, matter-of-fact voice.

“Don’t think I don’t know that, Granger. I do. But I’m not gonna be perfect at it, I can tell you that right now. I didn’t have very good role models. But I’m gonna…do my best. And if I hurt him…it won’t be on purpose. And I’ll…be sure to make up for it.” Why is this her concern!? Draco thought a bit bitterly. And why am I explaining myself so much? 

You're explaining yourself to prove you can be trusted. Because you’re Slytherin. And that’s what Slytherins have to do…

Her authoritative demeanor softened, “Good. I’m pleased to know that we’re on the same page. But know that if you ever break his heart, I’ll break one of your limbs, okay?”

Draco recoiled. “Uhh…that won’t be necessary…” 

“No. It won’t be.” her gaze softened. 

Draco exhaled, his shoulders relaxed. She finished arranging his hair products on the carousel. “Right. That’s done, then.” she stood up. “Anything else?” 

“I think…it’s fine for now.” 

“Perfect.” she yawned and stretched, ruffled her hair, and then left the bathroom, “Ronald? We’re done in here. How much time do you and Harry need to finish what you’re doing?” 

“We’re about done as well, Minnie.” 

-xXx-

After Ron and Hermione had gone home, Harry and Draco bathed and put on pyjamas. Then they laid next to each other on Draco’s bed, with their fingers entwined. 

The blonde rolled onto his side, gazing at the brunette with tired eyes. 

“I made peace with Granger, by the way.” Draco said, “We reached an understanding…I think…” 

Harry perked up and rolled onto his own side, mirroring the boy across from him, “She threatened you, didn't she?” 

Draco nodded, “A bit…” 

Harry chuckled, “Of course she did. She can be a bit scary sometimes. But she means well.” 

“No kidding.” Draco replied, “and what about Weasley, what did he have to say?” 

“He’s alright with it– with us– the fact that we’re two blokes doesn’t bother him, but he’s not used to it, so he’ll need some time to adjust and all. But he still supports it.” 

“And what about you, Harry. What do you have to say about all this? Us? Going around with each other?” 

“I’m hopeful it’ll work out between us. But I’m gonna have to learn as we go along, I mean…I’ve never been with another bloke before. Have you?” Harry replied honestly. 

“I’ve had… a fling or two with other boys– there was Zabini, for one, and then there was…that one slightly older bloke from Durmstrang fourth year…then there was that strange dynamic between myself and Pansy Parkinson for awhile.  But yeah…I’ve had some experience, but not much. It’s really not much different from being with a girl I don’t think.” 

“Hold on– you dated someone from Durmstrang?” Harry emphasized. 

“Mmm hmm. It was the accent that got me...the way he spoke… He was a couple of years ahead of us…and he was a bit of a…well…he was a bit of a rebel. Leather jacket and all…I think it would have lasted longer if we had stayed in touch, “ Draco chuckled. Then continued, 

 “…The thing about Pure-Blooded families is that…liking someone of the same sex or gender isn’t really frowned upon…if they’re pure of blood it’s fair game. In fact, lavender marriages aren’t uncommon. As long as you produce heirs and don’t mix blood, you’re…at liberty to be with who you want…sort of…” Draco explained, “In fact, my…parents started off in a lavender marriage, actually…”  

“Sorry, but what’s a lavender marriage?” 

“It’s essentially a marriage between a man and a woman where one or both partners are gay or queer or otherwise…and the marriage is more for duty than anything else. Sometimes it’s to hide their orientation, but other times, it’s simply an obligation. They’ll produce heirs as a formality, but still openly act on their homosexuality at the same time.” Draco replied, “For pure-bloods, being gay is alright as long as you still produce heirs. But unfortunately the same-sex partner is still restored to being on the side…like a….a concubine…” 

“Is this your way of warning me that you might have to partake in that?” Harry asked. 

“No– of course not. I don’t intend to do that. If I do end up…taking the earl-ship when my father inevitably dies…I’m marrying how I want. I’m just…talking about my experience with my orientation since you asked. My point is…I have some experience but also a lot to learn. I really want this to work…” 

Harry squeezed his hand, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.” Harry scooted closer and leaned in for another kiss. This one was sweeter and gentler than before, and it sent a warm flutter of warmth across Harry’s frame rather than an impromptu hot rush. 

When they broke away, they were smiling. Draco’s eyes fluttered slightly, and then he closed the gap a third time. This kiss was longer, a bit slower.  

They carried on for a while- sharing a series of different types of kisses. 

“Seems like we’ve already figured out the snogging bit.” Harry commented softly. A breathy chuckle left Draco’s parted lips. 

“As I said, Harry…not much different.” 

They remained like this for a short while, before Harry attempted to get up and return to his own room. But Draco’s sudden tug on his wrist stopped him in his tracks. Harry smiled, took off his glasses and set them on the bedside table. He readjusted himself under the covers. Draco moved in close. As close as he could get without being on top of Harry, and put out the lights. 

-xXx-