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Chapter Text

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter (and associated characters, likenesses, concepts, etc.) belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. AOL/Time Warner, Inc., among others. I make no claim, written or implied, upon Harry Potter. No money is being made and no infringement or disrespect to the creators / copyright holders is intended.

Harry’s New World

The Dursleys were being a bit more cordial to him since their talking to at Kings Crossing, but then he was only made to endure their company for two weeks this summer. The letter from Ron had arrived exactly 6 days after Harry had returned to Privet Drive, telling him that Dumbledore had said it was okay for Harry to join the Weasley family at the Burrow for the rest of the school break. Harry had been highly relieved, as putting up a brave face for the Dursleys had been almost unbearable. But he knew better than to show weakness in front of them.

Harry felt like he was dying inside. Everywhere he looked, even in the Muggle world, everything reminded him of Sirius. He caught himself staring down the alleyway where he had first seen Sirius as Padfoot, moments before he was almost run down by the Knight Bus. His desk pained him, because he had composed so many letters to Sirius there. His Firebolt now both drew him and repulsed him, because while he still loved flying and was so relieved to have it back from the witch Umbridge, it had of course been a gift from Sirius. Undeserved, he would always think to himself. Harry could not even bring himself to unpack his trunk, because he knew that the shattered mirror that he’d received from Sirius lay at the bottom. And that reminder cut him more deeply than all the others.

Everyday he blamed himself more and more for Sirius’ death, not to mention the trauma that he had inflicted on his friends. Hermione would probably never be the same after her injury, though she seemed not to blame him at all. Deep down though, I bet she does, he would think. Sometimes the guilt was so overwhelming he could not even get up out of bed. He had experienced deep depressions in the past, but this was something worse. When he wasn’t lying in bed staring into space, he would walk aimlessly for hours, feeling hollow and so very alone. At least at the Burrow he would have his friends to turn to. It was this thought alone that drove Harry, although by the time he left for the Burrow, he had convinced himself that they too must blame him for everything on some level. The day the Weasleys picked him up from Privet Drive, he felt more alienated than ever.

Harry was definitely in better company, but somehow everything still came back to Sirius. Everyone seemed to notice that he was particularly despondent, and of course made their best efforts to cheer him up. Fred and George were by almost daily, even though they had gotten their own place near Diagon Alley at the beginning of summer. They would bring over new formulas for jokes and try to amuse Harry by trying them out on each other. Mrs. Weasley cooked all of his favorite foods, and fussed over him with a redoubled effort. Harry found this most embarrassing, but he had to admit that it lifted his spirits somewhat. It was good to be loved.

And of course Ron and Hermione were not to be outdone. Every day they forced Harry out of himself by either dragging him to Diagon Alley (which was a lot more fun unsupervised), discussing the possible new hijinks they would be up to their next term at Hogwarts, making all sorts of evil plans against Draco Malfoy, or by trying to teach Hermione to finally use a broom. Ron and Harry particularly enjoyed this activity, as it seemed to be the only thing Hermione didn’t have a natural talent for.

Despite everyone’s best efforts, or maybe because of them, Harry still felt strangely apart from everyone. True, being surrounded and held up by so much love was helping him greatly, but his grief was still too raw, still able to take him by surprise at any moment. He couldn’t count the times he went to write Sirius a letter, or how many times in a day he said to himself I must tell Sirius that. And always, the crushing guilt. How would it feel, he wondered, to just be able to grieve for his godfather without the weight of his guilt? But he would always, always shoulder that burden, he knew it. Just another to add to the bunch, he would think bitterly.

Gone was the Harry of last summer. No more angry outbursts, not more fits, no more crying. He found that he wished himself dead on more than one occasion. He was completely lost, and completely hopeless. Maybe, he would think at these times, I should just let Voldemort have me. Then it would all be over. But he could never do that, he wasn’t allowed to give up. He had a job to do, a destiny to fulfill. He knew that if he gave in to Voldemort that the world he loved and all those in it would be destroyed, and that would be his fault too.

Shortly after arriving at the Burrow, however, something finally happened that did make Harry happy.

One morning he had wandered off alone before everyone else had risen. He had ended up in a field that was surrounded by a thick wood; it was the place they came to fly. He’d lay down in the grass and stared blankly at the sky for seemed like a long time when he heard voices approaching. Not wanting to be bothered just yet, he got up quickly and hid in the edge of the wood. He could still see the field clearly.

It was Ron and Hermione with their brooms, apparently for another flying lesson. They had erupted from the other edge of the wood, holding hands and laughing madly. When they reached the open space, Ron grabbed Hermione and kissed her deeply and very comfortably. This was obviously not a first. Harry grinned despite himself and thought It’s about time, you silly prats!.

Ron released Hermione and said “Just in case we crash into each other and die.” She swatted him playfully, mounted her broom and kicked off. Ron yelled at her “Or we could just stay here on the ground and make out, not take any chances you know!”

Hermione laughed at him, but flew on. She was definitely getting better, Harry saw. Ron mounted his broom and chased after her, catching her easily as she was not willing to go very fast just yet. He made playful swats at her, which caused her to shriek with fake horror. All the while, they exchanged meaningful glances that lifted Harry’s heart. It can’t be that bad of a world if two people can still look at each other like that, he thought to himself. His smile was now huge. It felt really, really good. He continued to watch as they landed softly in the center of the field.

“Good Herm, much better!” said Ron enthusiastically. He was already making his way toward her. “I’ll just have to reward you for your good performance, “ he said as he swept her up in his arms.

“I’ll thank you to drop the ‘Herm’, my love.”

Ron gently pushed Hermione to the ground and fell on top of her. They rolled around, kissing and groping each other with passion. Harry realized that he either had to leave or expose himself, or else he was going to witness a scene he’d rather not, no matter how happy seeing the two of them finally together made him feel. Summoning a mischievousness that he hadn’t felt in a while, he decided to embarrass them.

“Anything you two want to tell me?” he asked casually as he strode from the wood.

Hermione had been on top of Ron, straddling him. She sat up with a small “Oh”. Ron simply looked too stunned for words.

“Well?” said Harry, his eyes wide and questioning.

Hermione's mouth began to open and close silently and Ron finally came to life. He sat up, toppling Hermione unceremoniously to the side. Harry couldn’t help but laugh. It felt amazingly good.

“How long have you been there?” Ron squealed.

Harry’s smile broadened. “I just walked up. Now, spill it,” he said as he sat on the ground next to them.

Their relationship had taken the turn at the end of last term. Without going into much detail, they told him that Hermione had been particularly upset one evening, crying about Sirius, but even more so worried about Harry.

“Ron started comforting me, very sensitively for a change,” she teased, “and before I knew it, he was kissing me. Then, I don’t know, one thing led to another, as they say,” she giggled.

“I am so, so happy,” Harry beamed at them, “It’s about bloody time.”

Ron was blushing, but he clasped Hermione’s hand and kissed her ever so gently on the cheek. This time there was no mere glance, but a deep, trusting look that spoke volumes. No, Harry thought, it can’t be such an awful world if this is still possible. He continued to smile at them as he rose.

“I think maybe I’d better leave you two alone for a while. I’ll be back at the Burrow.”
The couple grinned devilishly at each other, and Harry made his way back to Ron’s room.

He had only just lain down on the bed when there was a soft rap on the door. He got up and found that Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were standing on the other side looking very grave. His first good mood of the summer soured quickly.

“Hello Harry,” said Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley was looking at him with great pity. His heart sank and he was filled with a horrible sense of foreboding. What could this be about, he thought.

“Harry, Molly and I need to speak to you. Perhaps it would be better if we went to the kitchen.” Mr. Weasley tuned sideways to let Harry pass, and the three made their way downstairs.

They all sat down at the old dining room table, Mr. Weasley across from Harry, and Mrs. Weasley at his side.

“Harry,” Mr. Weasley began, and Mrs. Weasley took hold of his hand, “I first want to say that Albus Dumbledore and Remus very much wanted to be here tonight. Unfortunately Albus has an emergency situation that he must attend to, and as for Remus, well…” he gestured outside to the full moon. “Anyway, Molly and I will do the best we can by you. This is going to be difficult Harry. We have to talk about Sirius.”

Harry felt himself go cold. He had fooled himself that this moment wouldn’t come, that someone else would just take care of things, and now that the moment had arrived, he could only shut down. He felt strangely calm, almost detached. He met Mr. Weasley’s gaze and nodded.

Mr. Weasley removed a small stack of papers from a binder that had been sitting on the table.

“Harry, these are all of Sirius’ legal documents. Documents pertaining to the property he owned, his bank accounts, and his last will and testament. He seems to have updated all of this when we reformed the Order,” he paused uncomfortably. “Harry, you are Sirius’ only heir. He left everything to you.”

Harry blinked rapidly and looked at the stack of papers. That was all that was left of Sirius, and now Mr. Weasley was telling him that it belonged to him.

Mr. Weasley went on. “Everything is yours Harry, but there are a few details that I hope you will be okay with. First, all of Sirius’ property is now yours outright. There is no money owed on Grimmauld Place. His bank accounts, however, are to be held in trust for you until you graduate from Hogwarts. Money will be taken out annually to pay for any expenses you might incur on the property, or in any emergencies, but other than that, it will remain untouched. As for Grimmauld Place, it was his wish that it continue to be used as Order headquarters for as long as necessary, but you have the final say in that,” he paused to gauge Harry’s reaction. When there was none, he sighed heavily and continued. He seemed very nervous.

“Also, Harry, while he explicitly stated that you should return for at least a week of the year to the Dursleys until such time that it is no longer, er, necessary,” he shifted uncomfortably, “and you should continue to follow Dumbledore’s lead in all things concerning,” he paused again and braced himself, “Voldemort, he wished that, er, Molly and I take over duties as your legal guardians.”

Mrs. Weasley grasped his hand even tighter at this and looked pleadingly at him. She began talking very fast.

“We know that you’re sixteen now Harry, and perhaps you don’t feel you need guardians anymore. Maybe you don’t think it should be us. But Harry, you truly are like a son to us already, and if you want us, we’d be honored to be your guardians.”

Harry softened at her words. He was so moved that he didn’t even know where to begin with a response. Sirius had given him the one thing he had wanted all of his life, a family to call his own. Emotion welled in him and he turned quickly away from Mrs. Weasley.

She began again, alarmed “Of course, we understand if you want to think about it, or if you already know you’d rather be on your own, or if you perhaps prefer Albus or Remus, both of whom said they would love to-“

Harry turned to her again, tears filling his eyes. This was the second time today that he had felt real hope, and it was a bit overwhelming for him. Mrs. Weasley fell silent as she looked at him.

“Mrs. Weasley, I have been on my own my whole life, except when I had Sirius. I…” he had been going to say I miss him, but a huge lump had risen in his throat. He swallowed hard. “I would love nothing more than to have you as guardians. You’re already family to me anyway, in my heart.”

“Oh Harry!” Mrs. Weasley wailed and threw her arms around him. She then broke down completely. Mr. Weasley quickly came to Harry’s aid and gently pried her off him. She cried “Oh Harry!” once more as Mr. Weasley led her from the room. He glanced back at Harry as they left and said “Don’t go anywhere just yet. We have one more hurdle to get over tonight.”

Harry waited. He was quite sure he knew what was next. Mr. Weasley returned shortly.

“Harry, we are so pleased with your decision. I think Molly will never be the same. She’s already talking about fixing up Fred and George’s bedroom for you. We’ve thought of you as a son for some time now.”

Harry smiled. A room of his very own, in a place where he was welcome, with people who loved him. Things were definitely looking up. “I know Mr. Weasley.”

“Now Harry, the Ministry, as well as the Order, have asked me to approach you about a memorial service for Sirius. We wanted to give you some time, but I am afraid we can’t put it off much longer. The Ministry wants to get involved so they can publicly clear Sirius’ name, and of course, we in the Order loved him dearly. Are you up for this right now?”

Once again Harry felt his eyes fill with tears. NO! his mind screamed wildly. I’ll never be up to this. NEVER, NEVER, NEVER! But Harry knew he owed it to Sirius to put things right. By giving him his family, Sirius had done more for him than he had ever dreamed possible.

Harry wiped away the tears that had begun to fall with the back of his hand and slowly shook his head yes.

Chapter Text

Draco’s New World

Far away, Draco Malfoy lay sleeping in his bed at Malfoy Manor. In the middle of a dream where Harry Potter was bowing before he and his father, who sat on golden thrones, he didn’t hear the house elves screeching. It wasn’t until they kicked in his door that he knew they were there at all.

Ministry Law Enforcement, led by at least thirty Aurors, had invaded Malfoy Manor.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing” Draco demanded as wizards and Aurors surrounded his bed, wands out.

“We found the son in here!” one of them cried.

Although Draco would take years to admit it, he was utterly terrified.

Two burly men entered his bedroom and walked directly to his bed. They made to grab him, but Draco was ready. He sprang to his feet and tried desperately to fight them off, but he was no match for the two men. Once they had restrained him, another wizard placed a Docility Charm on him, and he was led rather quietly from the Manor. They threw him in the back of a magically secure car and took him to the Ministry. Still under the effects of the Docility Charm, he asked no questions, but simply watched the passing scenery as the car sped along.

Once at the Ministry, they tossed him into a maximum-security cell deep in the bowels of the building. There were no windows and it was dank and cold. The Charm had now worn off, and Draco was yelling to the rafters.

“Where is my father? Who do you think you are? You will pay with your lives for this mistake, you idiots! You cannot just storm into our house and throw us in jail! Do you know who you are dealing with?”

Just then, Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived.

“We know all too well who we’re dealing with, you little ferret,” growled Moody.

Draco glared at him. “Where is my father?” he demanded again.

“We were kind of hoping you could tell us that, Malfoy. He’s not in Azkaban anymore. And your mother’s gone too. Now why would they leave the prodigal son behind?”

Draco was shocked but he recovered quickly. “You’re lying. If he weren’t in Azkaban, he’d be here. There’s no way he would allow this!”

Three Aurors came in and took their places around Malfoy’s cell. He smirked. “My, you are afraid that dear old Dad will show up aren’t you?”

“We’re rather counting on it, Malfoy,” Moody spat.

“Come on Moody,” said Kingsley, “he’s had a rough enough night.”

It was Moody’s turn to smirk. “Oh, it’s not gotten rough yet, Shacklebolt. I haven’t even started with this one. But I will let him get a good night’s sleep. He’ll need his strength, after all.”

Draco panicked. He knew from experience that Moody had no feeling for him whatsoever. “He won’t leave me here you know! He will come.” He heard Moody laugh. “I won’t tell you anything, you bastard. You hear me? ANYTHING!”

But the two had gone, leaving him only with his guards, who were now invisible thanks to a spell.

Draco had never been more afraid in his life.

Moody had not been kidding. They woke Malfoy up early the next morning. First, it was Shacklebolt who tried to interrogate him. Malfoy made up snide and obviously preposterous answers to the questions he was asked. Then, when Shacklebolt had left utterly exasperated, Alastor Moody showed up as promised.

“You should have played nice with Kingsley, Malfoy. I guess now, we have no choice but to force it out of you.” He cackled like a maniac, his dark eye gleaming. “Bring in the Veritaserum. I can’t wait to see what this lad has to say after all.”

It was the most horrifying thing Draco had ever known or imagined. His infamous Malfoy will slipped away from him like a veil, despite his efforts to fight. And fought he did. Before finally answering each question in a dull and toneless voice, Malfoy puked his guts out. This only went on so long, as he had neither eaten nor drank anything since the day before. He continued to fight the potion, however, and his body responded with painful dry heaves. A Ministry nurse was brought in to give him fluids and keep him conscious. Moody was milking him for all it was worth.

And Draco provided plenty. He answered all of Moody’s questions thoroughly and in great detail. He told them all about his father’s past and present activities; all about the secret store room through the trapdoor in the library; which Ministry officials visited the Manor and how frequently; anything and everything they wanted to know. Except Draco could tell them nothing of his father’s recent escape. This frustrated Moody a great deal, even though he was pretty convinced that Draco knew nothing. There was no hiding from the Veritaserum.

They questioned him for two days. Malfoy was fed he knew not how many vials of Veritaserum. He was sick, and thought briefly that he would die in his cell. But that was not the worst of it. The worst of it was that the Veritaserum would not allow him to lie to anyone, not even himself. At night after Moody and the evil nurse had gone, he would lie in his bed and hear again everything that he had told them that day. Whether it was his weakened state or the serum itself, he was unable to feed himself the usual rationalization about being aristocracy, about having certain privileges as a Malfoy. These reasonings had always held him up before on the odd occasion when he had actually questioned something, but no more. After hours, left alone to recall the things he had said, through all this tortuous time, one thing became fundamentally clear to Draco.

Lucius Malfoy, his father, was a truly evil man.

The second night, Draco had cried himself to sleep, a completely broken human being.

At the start of the third day, they came again early in the morning. Moody was holding three vials of the serum.

“Morning Malfoy, ready for breakfast?” he cackled as he held the vials aloft.

Draco couldn’t help himself. He sat up in his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, like a small child. He started to cry at once and begged the man to please not wring him dry again. He hated himself; he was Draco Malfoy and he had never begged for anything in his life. But he simply could not endure another day of this.

Moody approached. “Shut up Malfoy. You’ve earned every drop of this,” he said as he pulled the cork from the vial.

Draco prepared himself to fight, even though he had precious little strength. Moody was just about to put the Restraining Charm on him when he felt a definite shift of energy in the room. Suddenly, Draco felt much stronger, more calm. His heart lifted somewhat, and his first thought was “Father!”

From far away he heard an angry and powerful voice say “Moody! That is quite enough! Stand away from Mr. Malfoy at once!”

He opened his eyes. He had expected to hear his father’s voice, see his father’s angry face before him, his savior. But it was not his father.

It was Albus Dumbledore who stood over him. “It’s over now Draco,” he said gently as he lay his hand on Draco’s forehead.

Draco passed out, as much from shock as anything else.

Draco woke up later in the day to find himself in a room every bit as comfortable and elegant as his own at Malfoy Manor. He had no idea where he was, but noted with some relief that his conditions seemed to be improving. He was still very weak, but the effects of that awful potion seemed to have finally worn off. His mind was quiet for the first time in days.

He sat up in the bed and looked around. There were many mullioned windows in this room, along with a wall lined with books. The bed he was in was massive, with midnight blue silk hangings and linens. Yes, he thought, this is a bit more like it.

He started to think about the past few days. Had it all been a dream? Had he been sick, and now he was well? A fever perhaps? He certainly felt well, except that he was ravenously hungry. It was then that he felt something cold yet pliable around his wrist.

He pulled up the sleeve of his pajamas (not my pajamas he thought, but nice) and saw what appeared to be a thin, flat metal bracelet. It was a dull silver and without adornment. He prodded it with his index finger. How ugly. I must get this off.

He tried to pull the bracelet. It only bent outward, then snapped back into shape when he released it. He then brought the bracelet to his mouth and attempted to bite through it. The attempt was brief however, as a painful shock went through his mouth and arm when he bit into the metal.

“What the hell?!” he said aloud.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. After a moment, it swung open, and Albus Dumbledore entered the room. Draco knew without a doubt that the last days had not been a horrible dream, but even more of a horrible reality.

“Hello, Draco. I trust you are hungry?” said the old man. He conjured a tray of what appeared to be all of Draco’s favorite foods. “You must eat slowly, Draco. You’ve had only liquids for 4 days.”

Draco looked suspiciously at Dumbledore, but he was ravenous and tucked in at once. The food, he found to his delight, was delicious.

“Where is my father?” he asked Dumbledore through a mouth full of food.

Dumbledore watched him fondly, if not cautiously. “Slow down, Mr. Malfoy. There, that’s better. I plan to tell you all about this strange thing that has happened to you. But please, eat first, and have some pumpkin juice. You need to build up your strength.”

“What’s this thing on my arm?” he asked the wizard.

Dumbledore only chuckled softly. “Just eat for now Draco. I’ll be back to tell you the tale when you’re done. Also, I am having Poppy prepare some medicine for you. See you shortly.”

Draco finished everything on the plate, then felt immediately nauseated. Ugh, I ate too fast. But he did feel some strength returning. And with it, his memories of the past few days became even clearer.

By the time Dumbledore returned, Draco was in very low spirits indeed. He had forced himself to relive all the moments in the Ministry. Still he could only come to the conclusion that despite the fact that he was his father, Lucius Malfoy was almost too evil for words. He had always prided himself on his family’s black reputation (having others fear you was not always a bad thing) but he seemed to have an understanding of it now that he had never had before. The things that had happened to him in the past several days, while horrible, were nothing compared to the things that his father had done to other people. Innocent people, Draco thought. He felt ill.

Dumbledore entered the room again. “Draco, are you alright? I’ve been knocking for some time now,” he said.

Draco looked up at the wizard. His face was kindly and he seemed genuinely concerned. Draco could not recall anyone, save his mother, ever having looked at him with concern before.

“Where is my mother? Where am I, for that matter? And what in Merlin’s name is the pathetically ugly bracelet on my arm?”

Dumbledore sat in an armchair next to Draco’s bed. “Your mother seems to have assisted you father in escaping from Azkaban, then disappeared with him. Our intelligence seems to believe that they are hiding out somewhere in Albania, with Voldemort and some of his other high level supporters. You are at my home, in one of my many guest rooms. I do hope that it meets your high standards.”

Draco only nodded at this. He was still stuck on the fact that his mother and his father seemed to have completely deserted him.

“That bracelet on your arm is a tracking device. You are to wear it at all times, and should you try to remove it, it will give you a most uncomfortable shock. I am sure that you find this a bit repulsive, but it was the only way I could convince the Ministry to release you into my custody.” He sighed heavily. “Despite Mr. Moody feeding you half the supply of Veritaserum in all of Britain, they are still not convinced that you really don’t have any idea where your parents are. They are afraid that if you are unsupervised you will flee and join them.”

Draco was livid. “So I am being monitored, am I? I am not a criminal! I have done nothing wrong! I demand to see my Law Wizard, NOW!”

Dumbledore only sighed again. “I am sorry Draco, but we are under emergency war laws at the moment. I am afraid that under the circumstances of your arrest, you have no right to a Law Wizard. I don’t agree with it, but that is how the Ministry has chosen to operate for the time being.”

Draco just stared at Dumbledore, completely unbelieving. It would seem that the world already knew what Draco was just learning about his father.

“Draco, I suggest you rest a bit more. I took the liberty of bringing your clothing and some of your personal items from the Manor. I trust if you need anything else, you will let me know.”

“When can I go back home?” Draco asked quietly.

“When they catch your father and mother.”

Dumbledore turned and left the room. Draco had never felt so totally alone in all his life.

Chapter Text

Return to Hogwarts

In Harry’s humble opinion, the summer passed far too fast. For the first time he could ever remember, he wished that he could delay returning to Hogwarts for just a little while longer.

The Weasleys had taken to the whole family thing with all their hearts. They fixed up Fred and George’s old room for him and surprised him with it on his sixteenth birthday. Mrs. Weasley had made it a point to take him clothes shopping in Diagon Alley, although they’d had quite a row when Harry insisted on paying for everything, and she had also gone out of her way to consult him on everything from Christmas plans to grocery lists. Once, he called her ‘Mum Weasley’ and she broke out into hysterics, grabbing Harry and kissing him at least fifty times all over his face, much to everyone’s amusement. Harry had never felt so a part of anything before, and he couldn’t have been happier. He still got into funks about Sirius, but on the whole, he was healing nicely.

Seeing Ron and Hermione together brought him pure joy. They had taken long enough, but now fell into their relationship with a wholeheartedness that was beautiful to behold. Ron told Harry secretly one night that he was going to ask her to marry him just as soon as he could afford to buy a proper ring. Harry immediately offered to loan him the money, but Ron refused. The redhead wanted to do it himself, and even took on a part-time job at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes to start a fund.

Harry himself started to think more about love, too. It seemed that everyone around him was experiencing their first go round with the emotion and he felt rather left out. He wondered if he would ever find someone that was as perfect for him as Ron and Hermione were for each other. He longed to have someone gaze at him the way they did at one another, to touch him in their now familiar way. He lay awake at night thinking about it, terrified that he might be killed before he knew what it was like to love someone and to be loved in return. He became determined that he would not allow Voldemort to deny him this.

Now, however, sitting on the Hogwarts Express, he was thinking about Draco Malfoy.

“Where the hell is Malfoy?” he asked Ron and Hermione. “We should have seen his evil little pointy face by now.”

“Yeah,” said Ron, “I knew it seemed a lot more pleasant this year. Maybe he ran off with his father after all.”

Harry looked confused. “What are you talking about Ron? Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban, remember?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Hello! Harry! He escaped months ago. The Ministry has been trying to keep it pretty quiet, but there was an article about it in the Daily Prophet a while back. And it’s all the Order has been talking about for some time now. Honestly.”

Harry thought about it, and he did seem to remember something in the paper about Lucius Malfoy escaping, but it had been around the time when he had been helping to plan Sirius’ memorial, and it hadn’t seemed that important to him. He had never even considered what might have been happening with Draco Malfoy.

He shot Hermione an annoyed glance.

“Hermione, don’t be such a snot. I’ve been taking a bit of a well-deserved break from Death Eaters and Dark Lords this summer. In case you didn’t notice, I had other things on my mind. I’ve been busy trying not to walk in on you two snogging everywhere, for one.”

Talking about her and Ron in any way that involved anything remotely sexual never failed to make Hermione blush. Harry absolutely loved it.

“Well,” she said hastily, “maybe we’ll have a peaceful year after all,” and buried her nose in a book.

************************************************************************

Draco was already in his dormitory at Hogwarts, having arrived with Dumbledore that morning. He had gone through a lot over the summer, and found that he was quite nervous to be back at school.

For one, he had no idea what people were going to think about him. He knew that the Death Eaters had quite an underground when it came to information, so everyone in that community was sure to know about the revelations he had made to the Ministry after he had been arrested and questioned. A lot of Lucius’ associates had been arrested since then or forced into hiding because of the information he had given. Since he hadn’t received even one owl from anyone asking if he was alright, he guessed that he was no longer looked at in a favorable light.

Not that he really cared. None of them had any idea what he'd gone through emotionally over the summer. Still, it would be hard not being the most popular boy in Slytherin anymore. He had always been popular in his own circle, and was usually the one who dictated who was liked and not liked. He shivered involuntarily. He had done some awful things to people in his past, both those in and out of Slytherin house, and he was afraid that the time for payback had indeed arrived.

He became very close to Dumbledore over the summer, which he supposed might save him some torture. The old man treated Draco with a kindness and a respect that he had never experienced before, and Draco had found that he quite liked it. It made him feel better about himself to think that the man leading the fight against Lord Voldemort could forgive him his last name. But what about the others who were fighting Voldemort?

What about Harry Potter?

Fuck him Draco thought as he wearily stared at the ceiling.

As he was brooding, Professor Snape appeared and cleared his throat.

“Draco, I thought you might like to know that the other students are arriving. The Sorting will be starting soon. Would you like to join us?”

Draco looked at the Potions master for a moment. A spy. Snape had been a spy all along, and as far as he knew, still was. Draco had to wonder, though, which side he was really spying for. The dark professor had always liked Draco, so Draco thought it was safe to be nice. It could become lonely very quickly in this new world if he weren’t careful. Powerful friends were always good-having the Head of House on your side could only be a positive thing.

“I don’t think so, Professor. But thank you just the same,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“Very well. But Draco,” Professor Snape began then snapped his mouth shut. “Never mind. You must do what makes you happy.” With a whip of his cloak, he was gone.

“Happy,” Draco said aloud. He wasn’t even sure what that word really meant. Oh, he thought he was happy last year, before his father was arrested and he was still King of the Slytherins, surely. He thought he was happy being the heir apparent to the Malfoy legacy. But all of that had turned to dust this summer, and now all he knew was that he knew nothing.

“Happy,” he said again with tears welling in his eyes. Draco laughed bitterly and wiped his eyes.

“This is happening way too much lately,” he joked to himself, looking at the moisture on his fingers. The tracking bracelet showed under his sleeve for the briefest moment. He looked at it with disgust and pulled his sleeve back down. With nothing else to do, he plopped unceremoniously down in his bed, anxious for whatever was going to happen in this new term to begin.

************************************************************************

Harry, Ron and Hermione were leaving the Great Hall for Gryffindor Tower when they were approached by Professor McGonagall.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. How are you doing tonight?” she said with a sugary smile and an approving look at Ron and Hermione, who were holding hands.

“We’re fine,” said Harry. He had to wonder what the stern teacher wanted with them. After all, McGonagall didn’t just walk up and start meaningless conversations with students.

“Oh, lovely. I trust the feast was satisfactory then. Before you make your way to Gryffindor Tower, Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office.”

She was most definitely smiling at Ron and Hermione now.

“And I must say Weasley and Granger, it’s about time. But there had better not be any sneaking into the boy’s dormitory, young lady.” She pointed a firm finger at Hermione.

Hermione blushed a deep crimson. “No, Professor, of course not.” She looked sideways at Ron, who was as red as his hair.

“Very well then. Professor Dumbledore will be waiting for you. The password is ‘Gobstopper’.”

The three of them changed course and made for Dumbledore’s office.

“What on earth is this about?” Hermione said with concern. She hated going to a teacher’s office, unless it was to get an exam grade.

“Yeah,” chorused Ron, “we can’t have done anything wrong yet. We just ruddy well got here.”

Harry shrugged noncommittally. He knew all too well that things just seem to happen to the three of them whether they knew about it or not.

“Only one way to find out really. Gobstopper!” he yelled.

The staircase lifted them to the Headmaster’s office where he was indeed waiting for them, eyes alight and smiling broadly.

“Hello all! Welcome back! It is delightful to see you. I planned on being something of a regular at the Burrow this summer, but several things came up. There was one event in particular that took up most of my summer.”

He motioned them to sit in the armchairs in front of his desk.

They all settled into the comfy chairs and waited. When it became apparent that the Headmaster was waiting for one of them to speak, Harry stepped up.

“What’s that Professor?” he asked.

Dumbledore smiled at the trio.

“Would anyone like some tea?” he asked.

All three shook their heads no, as they were overstuffed from the feast.

“Very well, right to it then.” Dumbledore seemed slightly uncomfortable, which was unusual for the old man. He began cautiously.

“I assume you are all aware that Lucius Malfoy, with the help of his wife Narcissa, escaped from Azkaban this summer?”

The trio nodded.

“Well, they are now believed to be in hiding in Albania with Voldemort himself. Lucius was one of Voldemort’s top supporters, as you know, and we believe he is being sheltered there. But that is neither here nor there for our conversation. I want to talk to you a bit about Draco Malfoy.”

The three friends all looked at one another hesitantly. It was Ron who broke out first.

“We don’t know anything about him Professor, except of course that he’s a git. He wasn’t even on the train this year. We had kind of hoped that he had run off with his parents,” Ron said, hoping to be helpful.

Dumbledore smiled.

“Yes, Mr. Weasley, I have no doubt that you all hoped just that. However, Mr. Malfoy has done no such thing. He has been living with me since almost the beginning of the summer.”

The trio gasped.

“What?” said Harry, “Why has he been living with you?”

“Mr. Malfoy has had a bit of a epiphany, if you will. He underwent a very horrible experience at the Ministry of Magic, and due to some very unjust wartime laws, he was unable to return to Malfoy Manor. I, therefore, agreed to take him into my custody. What I want to say to the three of you is this: Do not treat Mr. Malfoy with the disdain that you have displayed in the past. If at all possible, try to be cordial to him.”

Ron snorted and settled back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest.

“Would this cordiality be before or after he calls Hermione a Mudblood for the hundredth time? Or before or after he’s told Harry how the Dark Lord is going to kill him? Or maybe after he’s told me how shoddy my family is again? Or maybe after he has Crabbe and Goyle-”

Dumbledore only smiled and raised his hand indicating that Ron should stop his tirade.

“I cannot promise you that Mr. Malfoy won’t do these things. He is who he is, after all, and you cannot undo a lifetime of poisoning in a few months. But I can promise you that Mr. Malfoy doesn’t think so highly of his father anymore. I can also promise you that the Draco Malfoy that is attending Hogwarts this year is a quite different Draco Malfoy than the one who has graced these halls these past five. While he may not be able to express it, I think that given the chance, you may find that Mr. Malfoy would appreciate your friendship,” at this, Ron snorted once again, “and yes, Mr. Weasley, that you all in fact have a lot in common. Particularly you, Harry.”

Dumbledore looked pointedly at the green eyed boy.

If he thinks for a second that I am going to kiss Draco Malfoy’s arse because he had a difficult summer, he can think again. I won’t beat him senseless, but that’s as far as my manners go, Harry thought bitterly to himself.

As if reading his mind, Dumbledore turned to Ron and Hermione.

“The two of you may go to Gryffindor Tower now, as I am sure they need their Prefects. I need to speak to Mr. Potter a bit longer. Oh, and by the way, Molly and Arthur tell me that the two of you are finally an item.”

Dumbledore’s eyes gleamed.

Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand proudly. “Yes sir. We are.”

Dumbledore grinned at him. It made him look several years younger. “Well, it’s about time isn’t it?”

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, rolled their eyes, and left the office.

After Ron and Hermione had disappeared through the door, Dumbledore turned his attention back to Harry.

“Now Harry, I know that you and Draco have always been something very like arch enemies,”

Harry snorted loudly. Dumbledore quelled a smile and continued.

“But I would like for you to at least attempt to be a bit more understanding this year. That is not why I asked you to stay behind, however. It seems that you and I are going to be spending a lot of time together this year. After what occurred last year at the Ministry, I think it is time to step up your training. It seems that we underestimated to what lengths Voldemort might go to in order to get his hands on you. You are as safe as you can possibly be here at Hogwarts, but we cannot let that be enough anymore. The fact is that you are going to have to fight him on your own at some point, and I want to do everything I can to ensure that you are ready to do that.”

Harry’s stomach felt as if it was suddenly filled with lead. So the moment had come at last: The Order was ready to admit that they couldn’t keep him totally safe anymore. After the initial shock had passed, he found that he felt strangely exhilarated at finally getting down to the business of fulfilling his prophecy.

“What are we going to do Professor?” he asked, eyes steeled on the Headmaster’s.

***********************************************************************

Harry’s head was swimming as he walked through the halls to Gryffindor Tower. It seemed he would be having a very busy year. Not only would he be taking Occlumency with Dumbledore, but he would be undergoing private tutoring from Professors Flitwick McGonagall and the new DADA teacher as well. He would be learning to Apparate, which excited him, as well as advanced magic and defenses that were usually reserved for Auror training. If it weren’t so imperative for him to know these things to save is own skin, he would be positively jumping for joy.

On top of all of this, he was now the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Dumbledore had asked him if he wanted the responsibility instead of bestowing the honor on someone else after Harry had gotten so upset about Ron being named Prefect the year before. Harry could tell that Dumbledore was reluctant to add the position to Harry’s already long list of activities, but he didn’t care. It would be a nice diversion to do something just because he loved it.

Besides, he had noticed that Ron and Hermione required a lot of time alone, which of course meant that he now had a lot of time alone. All of these new projects would simply give him plenty of ways to fill his time.

But what about your love life Harry? he asked himself. Doesn’t matter. I’ve got my arse to save. But it was with a slightly heavy heart that he entered the Gryffindor Tower.

Ron and Hermione had waited up for him and he of course told them everything. Hermione immediately volunteered to help with his workload, and Ron expressed the right blend of awe and happiness at the things Harry would be learning, as well as for his new role as Quidditch captain. But then Hermione ruined the moment by saying what they all were really thinking.

“Dumbledore must be worried that Voldemort is going to attack you again soon.”

Ron sighed in exasperation.

“Hermione! Shut it! That’s not a cheery thought on his first night back. Let him enjoy some peace while he can!” cried Ron.

“I’m only trying to tell the truth, Ron! The fact that we’ve all been living in denial the past few years about what Voldemort is after is what almost got Harry killed last year. It is what got Sirius killed last year!”

“No, Hermione, I did that,” said Harry, suddenly feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hermione started to protest, but Harry held up his hand. “No matter what you say, I will always believe that. Besides, I have had a whole summer of denial, as you call it, and you’re right, I have to start preparing. It is me he wants, after all.”

Ron and Hermione looked at him silently, their love for him etched painfully across their faces. Hermione’s eyes looked suspiciously shiny.

“Hermione, are you crying? You prat, I’m not dead yet,” joked Harry.

It was the wrong thing to say. Hermione’s usually pleasant face darkened at once.

“Harry, that’s not funny! What if he does kill you? What will Ron and I do? What will the Weasleys do? Dumbledore? What will we all do?” she wailed.

Harry hugged her. He realized now that this must have been bothering her for a long time, and while he did not fancy a discussion of a world without Harry, he knew that she must have thought about it a lot.

“Hermione, I’m not going anywhere. Honestly.” He looked at her sternly until she met his eyes. “And if I do, Hermione, all of you will go on, and fight that arsehole without me.”

It was the first time that Harry had acknowledged to anyone other than himself that he might actually die in all of this. It felt strange to say it, but it seemed to help Hermione.

She choked back her tears and gave him a wan smile. “But you’re not going anywhere. I’ll kill him myself if he hurts you.” They hugged again, Ron’s long arms closing the group.

Harry pulled away first.

“You silly prats. We’re back at school now. We can’t go round acting all lovey like we were still at the Burrow or something. Especially you two. You’re suppose to be the authority around here,” he protested, but his eyes were a bit too shiny as well.

“Harry, I love you,” said Hermione.

“Yeah mate, me too,” said Ron.

Now Harry knew his eyes were filling up.

“I would’ve never made it without the two of you. I guess we at least have to thank Voldemort for forcing us to appreciate the things that are good in our lives.”

Hermione got up and kissed him lightly on the cheek with a sad smile.

“I’ve got to get to bed,” she said. Harry took his cue and said good night. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw that she had her face buried in Ron’s chest, sobbing in huge gulps.

Ron came up some time later, shirtfront still wet from Hermione’s tears. He and Harry said short good nights and didn’t broach the subject of Voldemort again, but it was with considerably heavy hearts that all three Gryffindors slept that night.

************************************************************************

While the conversation the night before had effectively blocked their meeting with Dumbledore about Draco Malfoy from their minds, it came rushing back to them all when the lanky Slytherin entered the Great Hall for breakfast.

He was alone for once, and looked absolutely horrible. While both Harry and Ron had put on considerable weight this summer and were filling out nicely, Malfoy looked to have lost weight over the months. His hair was quite a bit longer and unusually unkempt for him, and while he was always pale, he now seemed almost translucent. His confident swagger was still there, Harry saw, but it only seemed a façade and lacked any real conviction. When he sat down at the Slytherin table, it was at the very end several feet from anyone else. Harry noticed that several of Malfoy’s housemates seemed to be giving him very dirty looks. Crabbe and Goyle, his former bodyguards, were glaring at him with an ire that they usually reserved just for Harry and Ron. Harry found himself feeling oddly sorry for his nemesis.

“God, he looks like death,” said Hermione under her breath.

“Bully for him,” said Ron, “he can’t feel bad enough as far as I’m concerned.”

Hermione gave him her most stern look. He grinned in what he clearly thought was a charming manner and kissed her on the cheek.

Harry was still looking at Malfoy so intently that it took a minute for him to realize that Malfoy was looking back. Harry blinked and quickly dropped his gaze.

“Well, we get to see the albino ferret up close and personal right off the bat. Seems our first class is with the ever lovely Slytherins,” Ron said with derision as he looked at his timetable. They all finished breakfast and left for class.

They were a bit early so they mingled just outside the classroom talking while Ron and Hermione absentmindedly held hands. Almost on cue, it seemed, they heard a familiar cold voice from behind.

“Well, well, what is this? The Weasel and Granger have finally overcome their silly adolescent fear of cooties and are now dating?”

It was none other than Draco Malfoy.

“And you Potter, where do you fit in? Don’t tell me you’re the filling in this rather disgusting little sandwich?”

All three of them turned on him at once. Harry was having a hard time not drawing his wand. Ron already had his out, and he could see that Hermione had a hand inside her robes. Apparently, they weren’t taking the chat with Dumbledore quite as seriously as Harry was.

Taking a deep breath, Harry moved toward Draco. He came within inches of him, eyes locking with his enemy.

“You know Malfoy, it doesn’t have to be like this anymore,” he said quietly. “Things have changed. After hearing about your summer, I thought you might have realized that, but apparently nothing penetrates that thick skull of yours.”

Draco leaned forward. The two were now dangerously close. The hallway had gone silent with people trying to hear what was passing between them.

“Don’t you ever speak to me again, Potter, about what happened to me this summer. Some things might have changed, yes, but I can see that you are still playing the hero, as always. Why don’t you attack me? Or have you had enough of hurting people?”

As usual, Malfoy’s words cut Harry to the bone, and the Gryffindor wanted desperately to do just as Malfoy had suggested-take out his wand and hex Malfoy into next week. But he had promised the Headmaster. He squared his shoulders and decided he would not fall for Malfoy’s bait.

“I never hurt anyone on purpose Malfoy. I never needed to. Your family has had the market cornered on that bit for a while now.”

Although this was the same old drivel between the two boys, Harry couldn’t help but notice that there was something weird about Malfoy’s eyes. Harry was used to daggers and fire from those eyes, but was totally unnerved by this strange nothingness. As he was trying to put his finger on exactly what the matter was, Malfoy pushed him.

Caught completely off guard, Harry fell smartly on his arse.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy! I had hoped we could get through at least one lesson without the two of you acting like complete imbeciles.”

It was Professor Snape.

“Get up Potter, and wipe that look off your face. That will be ten points each from Slytherin and Gryffindor. Inside!”

The students hurried into the classroom. Harry stood up and prepared to give Draco another menacing look, but the blonde had disappeared. Straightening his robes, Harry entered the classroom and took his seat. At the front of the class, Malfoy had done the same.

“At least Snape took points from Malfoy too,” Hermione soothed. “I don’t know how Dumbledore expects us to just be nice to him. He is so bloody belligerent!”

“I never promised to be nice,” growled Ron, “I have no qualms about beating the shit out of him.” He was red with anger.

But Harry was looking at the Slytherin again. He seemed tired and drawn. Once again, he had not taken his usual place among the other Slytherins, but was sitting alone almost with the Gryffindors. Harry found himself pitying Malfoy and the feeling completely unnerved him.

“No Ron, Dumbledore’s right. He’s different. I don’t think he really meant any of what he just said. I think he’s just trying in his own weird way to make contact. It’s not like he can just walk up to us and say ‘Hey guys, how was your holiday?’ now is it?”

Ron’s mouth fell open in shock and he opened and closed it several times. Strangled noises came from his throat as he tried to find the words to counter Harry’s statement.

“SILENCE!” Professor Snape roared, with a pointed look at Harry, Ron and Hermione. Ron’s mouth snapped shut, Harry dropped his head to his book and Hermione lifted hers up so that it completely hid her face. As the Gryffindors withered under the glare of the angry Potions Master, the first lesson of the year began.

************************************************************************

It had been all he could do to stay in that Potions class. When it was over, he had packed up as quickly as possible and practically ran back to his dormitory. Once there, he threw himself on his bed and drew the curtains.

Things had not gone as he had planned. He honestly had not known how he would react when he finally saw the three of them, but what he did was not at all what he had had in mind.

It had just been the shock of seeing Ron and Hermione together, and Harry looking so happy and healthy. The Boy Who Lived to Annoy Draco had buried his beloved godfather this summer, why did he look so good? It had angered Malfoy to no end. He had fully expected the three of them to return to Hogwarts as he had, a broken shell of his former self, twisted and torn by the horrible events of the previous summer. But they could not have been more themselves, even better than themselves, if they had tried.

The thing was, he wanted desperately to apologize to them. Well, not so much Weasley and Granger. Weasley was an uncouth idiot and Draco would never trust Muggleborns. But Potter, he wanted to apologize to him.

Malfoy had spent a great deal of time thinking about Harry Potter over the summer. The two of them had turned out to have a great deal in common, he had discovered. They both bore incredible burdens that had been thrust upon them just by being born who they were; Harry had the accursed scar, and Malfoy had his accursed last name. They had both lived under the weight of others expectations for them. They had both been the most popular in their houses, the most respected, and the most revered.

But they had their differences too. Malfoy had never experienced what it was to be the laughing stock of the wizarding world the way Harry had been last year. He had never lost anyone that had meant anything to him, and Harry had lost so many. Malfoy had never had any kind of understanding of what courage it must take for Harry to simply be himself.

Until now anyway. Malfoy wanted to apologize for making Harry’s difficult life even more so for all these years.

The Slytherin lay very still, staring at the canopy of his bed, hands folded over his chest. A large silver serpent coiled against a background of green velvet, hissing softly as if it were trying to comfort Draco. He wondered if Harry had meant what he said about things being different now. Draco remembered Weasley standing there with his wand drawn, red in the face and ready to attack because of Draco’s well placed jibe.

Well, he’ll obviously take a little bit of work. But who can resist the famous Malfoy charm? he thought. But, I have to start with Potter.

And Draco knew that if anyone was resistant to his charm, it would surely be Potter.

“So get off your arse and apologize, Draco. All this eating shit is suppose to build character after all,” the blonde drawled to himself.

But still he lay for several more minutes, watching the serpent coil above him and settle into a neat knot. With a deep sigh, he finally pulled himself up from the bed and made his way to the Great Hall where lunch was now being served.

Chapter Text

The Start of Something Good

Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down at the Gryffindor table and were eating their lunches when everyone started whispering excitedly and looking over their shoulders.

“Excuse me, you three,” came a quiet voice from behind them.

It was Malfoy, sneaking up on them as usual.

Harry saw Ron reach for his wand and quickly grabbed his arm to prevent him from doing so. Ron gave him an angry look, but Harry firmly shook his head no.

“No, Weasley, I don’t think you’ll be needing that this time,” said Draco in response to the scene. He cleared his throat and continued “This is not easy for me. I can’t say that I have ever done it before. But here goes,” it seemed he couldn’t stop himself from smirking, though he truly wanted to. “I want to apologize for my behavior this morning,” and for the last five years, Draco wanted to add, but didn’t.

He could not have been more pleased with look of disbelief on the three Gryffindors faces. “I was rather rude, which is most unbecoming,” he caught Harry’s eyes, and his voice dropped to almost a whisper. “I hope you meant what you said, Potter. I would really like for things to be different between us.”

He looked to Ron and Hermione.

“All of us,” he finished weakly.

No one could say anything. Ron, Harry and Hermione all just looked at each other with their mouths agape.

A snigger escaped from Draco’s throat, despite his best effort to subdue it. The trio rounded on him at once, looking murderous.

“I’m really sorry, it’s just that you all look like a bunch of goldfish. Oh dear, do shut your mouths, please!”

Draco struggled to get his laughter under control. At long last, he managed to stuff it down.

“Oh, and Granger, Weasley, er, congratulations on your new, er, relationship,” this new attempt at sincerity clearly unnerved Draco, and he quickly reverted to his usual snide self. “ It’s about bloody time,” he added, then turned and walked away without a backwards glance.

The three Gryffindors looked at each other in shocked silence.

“Who was that, you reckon?” said Harry at last.

“I don’t know,” Ron spat, “but did everyone in this school realize that Hermione and I were going to end up together, except for Hermione and I?!”

“No, Ron,” said Hermione with great exasperation, “You were the only one who didn’t realize it. The rest of us have known for a while.”

Ron blushed deeply, and opened his mouth to speak. Hermione closed it with her own.

“I think I rather liked you two better when you weren’t attached at the lips,” Harry said curtly as he gathered his things and left the table.

Ron got up to follow him, but Hermione held him back.

“Let him go, Ron. You know how he gets when someone throws him for a loop. Honestly, in his own way, Harry’s a right control freak. He’s just a bit weirded out by Malfoy’s apology. He’ll be ok.”

Ron sat back down next to her and looked with deep suspicion at Draco, all alone again at the Slytherin table.

“I am too, truth be told,” he said.

He and Hermione gave each other meaningful looks, and went back to their lunch.

Outside, Harry had come to rest under a large oak tree by the lake. He had known that Malfoy would retaliate for their run in this morning, but the way in which the Slytherin had done it was the last thing he expected. He would have bet that he would go an entire lifetime without an apology from Draco Malfoy. As he sat gazing out at the lake, Harry turned over in his mind all of the horrible things Draco Malfoy had done to him and his friends over the years. But the Draco who had done all of those horrible things seemed to have disappeared. It seemed that it was as Dumbledore had said; a different Draco Malfoy was now attending Hogwarts.

The Draco that had just apologized to Harry and his friends had been quiet and shaky. He was nervous, for Merlin’s sake Harry thought to himself. The Draco Malfoy he knew had never been nervous. He had carried out all his cruelties and deceptions over the years with the utmost confidence and reserve, as Harry could remember all too well.

Harry couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, had happened to Draco this summer. He wondered what could have caused such an extreme shift in the familiar Slytherin behavior.

Because he felt he had known Draco so well, Harry couldn’t help but be intrigued. Still pondering the situation, he tossed a large rock into the lake. One of the squid’s tentacles briefly appeared, caught the rock, and was gone once again.

*********************

It had been a long first day back at school, and Harry had spent it mostly distracted and thinking about Draco Malfoy. He wasn’t sure if he trusted Malfoy or not, but the blonde did have Dumbledore’s backing, and Dumbledore was rarely wrong about things.

Harry turned the issue of Draco Malfoy over and over in his mind throughout the day, all through classes and breaks. By the time he, Ron and Hermione were making their way to the Great Hall for dinner, he had devised a plan.

He was very nervous as they entered the Hall, but Ron and Hermione were busy catching up on each other’s day and did not notice his shifting eyes and trembling hands. Harry wondered briefly if he should warn them about what he was planning to do, but decided against it. The element of surprise would only be a benefit.

As they took their usual places at the Gryffindor table, Harry kept one eye peeled for the door.

It had been a rather long day for Draco as well. He, too, had spent most of it thinking about what he had done. While the memory of the looks he had received from the trio had given him infinite pleasure, he had now convinced himself that he had done the wrong thing. How could he possibly expect them, particularly Potter, to just forgive and forget?

Up their arse, he thought, I don’t need them anyway. Ugh, what was I thinking? Bloody Gryffindors, at that.

He knew that there would be retaliation. He knew that Potter would not let it go. He was positively dreading dinner.

****************************

“Oy, Malfoy!” Harry cried out over the din of the Great Hall when saw the white blonde head come in.

Why did I say that? OY?! I never say oy! Harry rubbed his sweaty palms together nervously.

Malfoy stopped in his tracks and suppressed a cringe. So, Potter wasn’t even going to let him get in the door before he started. Fine. He took a deep breath, set his face, and turned.

Harry was moving towards him, his mouth pressed thin with determination. Malfoy hid another shudder.

What is he up to? Is he going to hit me? If he hurts my face, I will kill him!

Draco realized his thoughts were completely irrational. Potter had never started anything with anyone in his whole life. Trying to remain calm, he smoothed the front of his robe and waited for Harry to reach him.

Harry’s heart was pounding wildly. He had no idea what to expect, a strange emotion where Malfoy was concerned. He could not see a trace of emotion on Malfoy’s face: it was completely unreadable. Wondering yet again if he really meant to do this thing, he stopped dead inches from the Slytherin. Mustering his considerable courage, he finally spoke.

“Care to join us?” he asked.

Draco’s eyes widened in bewilderment. Harry quickly motioned to the Gryffindor table with his hand in explanation. Now that he had done it, the Gryffindor felt a surge of relief flood his limbs.

The whole Hall had gone almost silent and virtually everyone was watching the scene with rapt attetion. It was hard to say who looked more shocked, the Gryffindors or the Slytherins. Even the teachers had stopped eating, and were watching intently as things unfurled.

Draco tried very hard not to show his disbelief, but his mouth fell opened for a moment before he was able to snap it shut again.

Ha!, thought Harry, who's the goldfish now!

Draco looked at Harry as if to analyze why in the great wizarding world Harry Potter would be asking him to join him for dinner at the Gryffindor house table. He considered the repercussions for only a moment before making his decision. He doubted a Slytherin had ever eaten at that table before, and the thought of being the first appealed to him greatly. He briefly imagined the ruckus it would cause, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

“Why not?” he said to Harry in reply.

The Gryffindor table exploded in outrage.

Draco affixed his trademark smirk and said so quietly that only Harry could hear “I don’t think your housemates are very pleased with you at the moment.”

“Yeah, well, yours don’t look too pleased either.”

It was true, the Slytherins were all staring gaped mouthed at Malfoy, who was making his way to the Gryffindor table with Harry.

“No need to fret, Potter. I haven’t been popular with most of them since well before school began. Hello Granger, hello Weasley,” he said as he sat down in between Harry and Hermione. “Hell of a first day back, wouldn’t you say?”

Grinning devilishly from ear to ear, Draco turned his attention to his food and tucked in as if dinner with the Gryffindors was a regular occurrence.

*********************************

No one really had anything to say during dinner, though Harry made a noble effort at small talk. Draco could not contain his mirth. The looks on all their faces were just priceless.

Chapter Text

Draco’s Protector

Draco stood outside the Slytherin common room door trying to overcome the distinct feeling that things were going to be most unpleasant once he entered his house. Clenching his hands into fists and taking a deep breath, he muttered the password. The stone door slid open with an audible screech.

Everyone had been talking loudly and passionately, but when Draco entered, the room fell silent. Crabbe and Goyle stood up and immediately made their way towards him. He instinctively reached in his robe for his wand, hoping against hope that they weren’t going to attack him. He was aware that they probably were not coming to congratulate him on being an honorary Gryffindor for the evening meal, though.

“Well, my former minions, what is it you wish to say to me?” he drawled.

It was important to appear unafraid, event though he definitely was. He knew, of course, how intimidating the two mindless thugs were as they used to practically work for him in that very capacity. Being on the receiving end of their death glares was more frightening than he could have ever imagined. He had a sudden wave of regret for every time he had ordered these two to beat someone up for him.

“You’ll want to not speak to Potty again, Malfoy. I mean, haven’t you dirtied your family name enough?” Goyle said as he flexed his fingers into fists.

“Forget your family if you want, but you won’t go making this house look bad,” Crabbe chimed in, taking a step closer to Draco.

Draco hid his fear behind a mask of ice.

“Goyle, don’t you dare order me about. If I remember correctly, it was not so long ago that I was giving you the orders.”

In one fluid motion, Draco unfurled his wand and pointed it straight at Goyle’s heart.

“You’ll want to remember just who you’re fucking with, dear. I haven’t forgotten anything, nor do I think I could ever make this house or any other ‘look bad’, as you so poignantly state, when there are cretins like you about who do quite a good job of it on their own.”

Goyle took a step towards Draco joining Crabbe only inches away from the blonde. Draco lifted his wand a bit higher and glared hatefully at the two oversized boys.

“Expelliarmus!” a female voice cried. Draco watched in shock as his wand sailed across the room and landed in a soft, upturned hand. Pansy Parkinson had just relieved him of his wand.

“How dare you!” cried Draco.

No one in Slytherin had ever dared attack him-they knew all too well that he was better than any of them, possibly better than anyone in the school, with a wand. But now, he was without one, and Crabbe and Goyle were closing in.

“If you hit me, you’ll likely be expelled,” he stammered, backing away from the two bullies. "No matter what you think of me, I am still a Prefect,” Draco reasoned.

The only problem was, Crabbe and Goyle were unfamiliar with the process of reasoning. Violence, however, was very familiar to them. They advanced rapidly.

“If you tell your boy Dumbledore,” said Crabbe, “we’ll only beat you worse, Malfoy. At least once more before they chuck us out.”

Draco wondered why he had hesitated. He should have hexed them right off knowing what perfectly well what they were capable of. His eyes darted around the room; the rest of the Slytherins, save one or two, were watching hungrily. There was no chance of escape.

“You’ll not stop me from talking to Harry,” he said as familiarly as he could, though the name felt strange coming from his lips. He wanted to make them as angry as possible so they would quickly get the worst over with. He was an absolute baby about pain. Lifting his head hautily, he fixed them with an icy stare.

The strangeness he felt at saying Harry’s proper name was gone in an instant as Goyle’s fist met Malfoy’s mouth. Blows fell on him like water, and for a while, he knew nothing but darkness.

***********************

Harry stood outside the Gryffindor common room, wondering if he should draw his wand just in case. This was going to be unpleasant, he knew.

“Good thing my two best friends are Prefects,” he said aloud. Harry said the password with a sigh and the Fat Lady swung open.

The room exploded with indignities at once.

“How could you Harry?”,

“What the hell was that Potter?”,

“You do realize that was Draco Malfoy you just had sitting at our table, don’t you?”

all came at him in a jumbled mess.

Harry held up his hand to try and stop the onslaught, but his housemates would not be quieted. It was Hermione who finally managed to do so.

“Shut up, everyone! Let him talk. I’m sure Harry has a very good reason for his actions,” she yelled. Turning to Harry, her face grew hopeful. “Don’t you Harry?”

Before Harry could respond, Ron exploded.

“In all my life Harry, I never thought we’d have this conversation. Draco Malfoy, Harry! You INVITED him, for Merlin’s sake! What the-“

“RON!” Hermione bellowed, “Let him talk!”

Ron snapped his mouth shut and sent Hermione an apologetic look, but he was still fuming at Harry.

“I guess I don’t exactly have a good reason. He made what seemed to be a sincere apology to me this morning-and to you two as well, I might add,” he said pointedly to Ron and Hermione, “and, I don’t know, I guess I thought I’d give him a chance. I am so tired of all this Gryffindor/Slytherin bullshit anyway,” the Gryffindors gasped in unison, “I mean, Dumbledore’s right, isn’t he? How can we expect anything good to come of anything if we all keep hating each other because of what our house colors are?”

No one spoke, but several people had stopped glaring at Harry and were now looking shamefacedly at the floor. There was a very uncomfortable silence in the room that seemed to stretch on and on.

“You’re right Harry. Maybe it is time to forgive and forget. Things are…very different now. For everyone.”

It was Hermione. Harry beamed at her as he released a huge sigh of relief. He could always count on her to defend him and he loved her for it.

Ron was not so easy to persuade, or so willing to forgive and forget. His eyes bulged as he gaped at Hermione and his face shown every bit as vivid as his hair.

“WHAT?!?” he roared, “Hermione, are you mad? Have you gone totally, utterly, completely mental? You’re a dirty fucking mudblood, remember? And now you’re going to defend that nasty little git that we’ve all hated for five years?”

Hermione turned angrily to him again.

“Yes, Ron, I am going to defend him! We have no idea what Draco Malfoy went through this summer, or what he’s going through now, but he does seem different. And if we trust Dumbledore, and Harry for that matter, with our very lives, then I don’t see why we can’t trust them on this. Until Draco Malfoy proves me wrong, I am going to give him a chance to prove that he is not the nasty little git that we’ve all hated for the past five years!”

She turned to look at Harry. “I have Arithmancy with him. I’ll approach him, and, well, we’ll see what happens.”

Harry could tell that deep down Hermione wasn’t wholly convinced of Draco’s recent conversion, but she was at least willing to give him a chance, and Harry was thankful for that. He didn’t really understand why this was so important to him, but it felt like the right thing to do and his instincts rarely led him wrong.
Besides, It was never wrong to have faith in what was good in people, he told himself uncertainly. He walked over and hugged Hermione..

“Thanks, once again,” he whispered in her ear.

“You’d better be right Harry,” she whispered back.

Harry gave her a quick squeeze.

“Get off each other!” Ron grumbled and pulled them apart, looking decidedly dejected.

Harry looked at him in surprise.

“I want you to know, Harry Potter, that I won’t go out of my way to be nice to that snot, but I won’t start anything with him either. If he can prove to me that he’s changed, maybe, and only maybe, will I then forgive him. Now I am going to bed.”

Ron shot them both a hurt, angry look and marched off to the boy’s dorm.

Harry looked around the common room. People were turning away from he and Hermione now and going about their business. Some were streaming out to their respective dorms for lights out. Still feeling very relieved and somewhat hopeful, he turned to Hermione.

“Hermione, I really-hey, what’s wrong?” Harry said.

Tears shown brightly in Hermione’s eyes.

“He didn’t kiss me good night. That’s the first time since we started dating,” she said quietly.

The hurt in her voice made Harry cringe. He would kill Draco Malfoy if this was another one of his stunts. Nothing was worth hurting his friends. He reached out and pulled Hermione to him.

“You want that I go upstairs and kick his arse?” he asked her.

Hermione pulled away and looked at Harry. Her eyes were still shiny, but a steely look had replaced the hurt.

“No need, Harry. I’m going to go up there and do it myself.”

She turned and marched to the boy’s dorm in much the same fashion that Ron just had.

“Just yell to let them know you’re coming!” Harry shouted after her, “Neville might be naked!”

He laughed as he watched her storm off, thinking that his two best friends definitely deserved each other.

Now that Ron and Hermione were gone, Harry was alone and had nothing to do. He soon heard yelling coming from his dorm, followed by Neville speeding down the stairs like a scared cat. He grinned and quickly decided some nighttime wanderings might clear his mind. He needed to think. Without a clear plan of where he was going, he exited the Gryffindor common room.

***************************************

Harry wandered aimlessly and without thought. He was totally lost in this latest drama. He had just driven a wedge, temporary he knew, but a wedge nonetheless, between him and his best friend over his worst enemy. And this was only their first day back at school.

He didn’t understand exactly why giving Draco Malfoy a chance to be decent was so important to him. He had been asking himself that question all day long. Hermione’s speech about him and his saving people complex came back into his mind. Was that all he was doing?

Before he could even begin to sort it out, a commotion ahead brought him out of his reverie. He heard raised voices that were filled with panic. He quickly drew his wand. Then very clearly over the din, he heard Professor Snape.

“Get out of the way, you imbeciles! I must get him to the hospital!”

Though he was never able to explain it, Harry somehow knew that ‘he’ was Draco Malfoy. He was shocked to find that his subconscious had led him down the corridor that ran right to the Slytherin dungeons. Feeling a panic rise inside, he shoved his wand back in his robe and ran the rest of short distance to the Slytherin dorm.

Snape was cradling a very badly beaten Draco in his arms and swishing up the hall. Harry stopped dead and stared stupidly as they passed. Draco was bleeding from everywhere, it seemed, and his left arm hung at an odd angle. His hair, usually so purely white, was stained red in several places. He was unconscious. Snape didn’t even notice that Harry was there.

Harry finally broke and ran along behind the professor.

“What happened to him?” he cried when he caught up.

“This is no concern of yours, Potter!”

Snape continued on without slowing, and so did Harry. He followed the Potions Master all the way to the Infirmary.

Dumbledore was waiting for them just outside the door of the hospital.

“Bring him inside, Severus. Poppy is waiting for him.”

Harry recognized at once the almost electric anger in Dumbledore’s eyes.

“What happened to him Headmaster?” Harry asked as Dumbledore followed Snape inside.

Dumbledore stopped and turned, seeing Harry for the first time. He wore a look of concern that Harry had seen in relation to himself on several occasions.

“It would seem that several of the Slytherins felt Draco had besmirched their house by having dinner with you this evening. They felt he needed a lesson. Fortunately, Severus was able to get there rather quickly, but not before much damage was inflicted.”

Dumbledore fell silent and watched Harry carefully.

Harry felt like he had just been punched in the stomach, so much so that he reflexively wrapped his arms around his middle.

“His house mates did that to him?”

Dumbledore nodded. They both stood there for what seemed like an eternity.

“Can I stay with him?” Harry asked.

Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder and smiled kindly.

“Harry, this is not your fault. Draco has made several people very angry, many of them parents of students here at Hogwarts, all of them Slytherins. I had rather expected something like this to occur, just not this soon, and certainly not this severe. You have no obligation.”

Again, Dumbledore’s eyes never left Harry’s.

Harry responded quickly, completely unaware of Dumbledore’s intent gaze.

“I don’t want to stay because I think it’s my fault Professor,” he said, “I want to stay because he’s going to wake up soon, when Madame Pomfrey is done with him, and I thought he might feel better if a, er, friend were there for him.”

There was the faintest flicker of a smile on Dumbledore’s lips.

“Well Harry, in that case, do come in,” he said and motioned Harry through the door with his hand.

*******************************************

It was several hours before Draco woke up. Madame Pomfrey had repaired a broken arm, two broken ribs, and cuts and gashes too numerous to mention. Draco’s body had been exhausted and he had rested deeply.

He opened his eyes and looked around the dark room. At once, the memory of what had occurred assaulted him. Eyes wide with fear, he reached to his left arm and felt it-it was wrapped in soft gauze and he could feel the bones settling in after having righted themselves. He ran his hand over his ribs and found that they were warm, a consequence of their healing. Hesitantly, he ran his hand over his face, then through his hair. There were a few tender spots, but on the whole, everything seemed in place. He sighed loudly, full of relief. It seemed there was no permanent damage.

Unable to sleep any longer, he sat up slightly in his bed. The first thing he saw was Harry, curled up asleep in the armchair next to him. Draco stared at him, shocked to the core.

Someone, Madame Pomfrey probably, had thrown a blanket over the Gryffindor and his glasses lay on the nightstand. His long black eyelashes brushed against his pale cheeks, which shown like polished marble in the moonlight. His lips, slightly parted, were a deep, blood red in the dimly illuminated room. His hair stuck up at every possible angle, leaving his scar exposed. One strong, capable looking hand was grasping the edge of the blanket. Draco could hear his deep, peaceful breaths filling the small space behind the curtains that surrounded his bed.

Draco was mesmerized. He couldn’t recall having seen anything so beautiful in all his life.

Has Potter always been this beautiful?, he asked himself.

If so, Draco had never noticed.

Crabbe and Goyle must have addled my brains, he thought with amusement.

But Draco did not run away from his thoughts. He lay back against his pillow and sat until sunup watching Harry Potter sleep.

* * * *
As the sunlight reached his eyes, Harry stirred. He ached all over from sleeping in the armchair all night.

Armchair, he thought vaguely, why am I in an armchair?

“Good morning, glory.”

Draco’s voice answered his question and he couldn’t help but smile. Draco was awake, and from the sound of it, back in top form. He opened his eyes and faced his new friend.

Sunlight was now streaming through the windows of the infirmary, falling all around Draco. His hair was white again, and shown like finely spun silk. It had always been longish, but it now fell well below his jawline and turned softly under, cupping Draco’s face like a lover’s hand.

Draco eyes were almost translucent in the morning sun, and his skin seemed more delicate than ever with the dark remnants of the fading bruises still visible on his ribs and cheekbones. Harry had always thought that Draco looked just like his father, but now saw that this was not true. Lucius Malfoy was a handsome man, but wore cold and rigidity like a shield. Draco was, at least in this light, soft and dazzlingly beautiful.

Has Malfoy always been that beautiful? Harry asked himself.

“Are you all right Draco?” Harry asked.

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. It seemed that his name had never sounded so wonderful, and he was very fond of his name.

“Yeah, I am a bit sore here and there, but I think I’ll survive. Should be able to get a couple days off class for this though, don’t you think?”

Harry, remembering how well Draco had faked his arm injury after the Hippogriff attack, could only chuckle at the sneaky Slytherin.

“Yeah, I suppose. You’re a very convincing actor, I seem to remember.”

As if cued, Madame Pomfrey rattled the curtains in warning and then bustled in, medicines in hand. Draco immediately fell back on his pillows and looked pathetic. Her face fell in sympathy.

“Feeling better Mr. Malfoy?” she asked tenderly.

“Oh, yes, you did a smashing job. It’s just that I’m a bit sore still,” he touched his ribs and hissed “here.”

He made a move like he wanted to rise, and hissed again.

“Oh, and a couple of other places, it seems. Do you think you could help me get dressed? I really shouldn’t miss class.”

He looked at her with a brave smile. It was all Harry could do not to burst out laughing.

Madame Pomfrey protested vociferously, and went about getting Draco back in a prone position. She soon stomped off, muttering about getting Draco a Pain Away Potion from Snape. Harry found himself staring at Draco’s, whose pajama jacket had fallen from one of his milky shoulders, as she sauntered off.

“The ladies can never resist babying a Malfoy,” Draco sighed dramatically. “Is it a curse, is it a gift? I can’t decide.”

Harry jerked his eyes to Draco’s face, and forced himself to laugh. He was feeling a bit flush.

“Malfoy, you are sickening,” he said with affection.

Suddenly, Draco was feeling a bit flush himself.

Looking at the bruises on Draco’s face, Harry turned serious in a flash.

“Draco, who did this to you?”

Draco's stomach did a flip when he heard the very thinly veiled anger in Harry’s voice. Anger for him, not at him, for the first time ever.

“It’s nothing Harry, I can attend to it. Just as soon as I get my wand back from that hag Pansy, anyway.”

The stubborn Gryffindor was not to be deterred.

“Who did it Draco? And don’t tell me it’s nothing. They broke your arm. They split open your head, you tit. Hexing them into next week won’t change that.”

“It won’t happen again,” was all Draco could think to say, though he knew this was probably a lie.

“What makes you think that? Who was it? Tell me, right now.”

Harry’s anger was coming unveiled rather rapidly.

Draco felt himself blush hotly and patted his cheeks with his free hand.

“Damn this delicate Malfoy complexion,” he joked.

Seeing that Harry was not amused, he continued.

“What’s it to you, Potter? Want to know so you can run about being my protector?”

Harry, without a thought and with no embarrassment whatsoever, didn’t miss a beat.

“If I need to protect you, Draco, I will. Now, who the fuck was it?”

Draco went even redder, and for once, could think of nothing to say.

Chapter Text

Cashmere Socks

Madame Pomfrey soon reappeared and gave Draco his potion. After the blonde had settled back into bed, she shooed Harry away, telling him that Draco needed his rest.

“I’ll see you tonight, Draco,” Harry said with obvious amusement.

“Yes, please do,” said Draco in a lilting, false tone.

He was really laying it on thick for Madame Pomfrey.

“Oh, and Harry, please don’t do anything about what we talked about!” he called to Harry’s back.

Harry simply waved his hand in a noncommittal fashion over his head. There was no way he was going to do nothing, and Draco ought to know that.

It had been Crabbe and Goyle who had beaten Draco. Draco had never really come right out and said, but when he muttered “My former lackeys”, Harry had no doubt. He was planning on going straight to Dumbledore’s with the information and lobbying for their expulsion. If he had his way, the two of them would be on the first train out of Hogsmeade Station.

Actually, if I had my way, I’d give them the beatings of their lives, he thought angrily as the image of Draco lying limply in Snape’s arms came rushing back to him.

He would speak to Pansy himself about getting Draco’s wand back.

He reached Dumbledore’s office, still hatefully angry.

“Gobstopper!” he yelled.

The passageway slid open.

All in all, the first week had been harrowing, but had turned out all right in the end. Crabbe and Goyle were now former Hogwarts students. Harry had convinced Pansy Parkinson to return Draco’s wand to the Slytherin. He had also intimated that it would be a wise decision to never attempt to hurt Draco again. It had felt odd and somehow wrong to threaten a girl, but Harry’s anger had allowed nothing else.

After a stunning three-day performance, Draco was released from the hospital. Snape was now making surprise visits to the Slytherin dormitory, and warned all of them that if there was another attack of any kind on their Prefect, there would be serious consequences for those involved.

The Slytherins, being Slytherins, found another, even more effective way to take their revenge on Draco than injuring him physically.

It was Friday night, and everyone was having dinner in the Great Hall, enjoying the fact that they had made it through the first week. At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were discussing Harry’s schedule.

“Monday night, Quidditch practice, followed by lessons with Dumbledore. Tuesday night, lessons with McGonagall. Wednesday night, Quidditch practice, then lessons with Lupin.”

Remus Lupin had been convinced to return as the DADA teacher, much to everyone’s delight.

“Thursday night, lessons with Flitwick. Friday night, Quidditch practice, and then, Oh look, lucky you, you get the weekend off. Except for the Saturdays when there are Quidditch games, of course,” Draco said sarcastically.

He tossed Harry’s timetable to him, eyebrows raised at the black haired boy.

“I thought I’d never say this Harry, but there needs to be two of you.”

Secretly, Draco was feeling very disappointed. He had found that he rather liked spending time with Harry and it looked as if there would be no time to spend starting the next week.

In fact, he had spent most of his week with Harry, as well as Hermione, who had approached him about being study partners in Arithmancy. Despite being a Muggle, she was surprisingly witty and unbelievably bright. Draco was surprised to find that he enjoyed her company very much.

Weasley was another matter entirely. It was painfully obvious that Ron was only just tolerating Draco, and the quick friendship he had developed with Hermione only made matters worse. Ron spent a lot of their time together glowering dangerously at Draco.

Just afraid she’ll fall for me, Draco mused, though he knew it was not true at all. Ron and Hermione were hopelessly in love. This was lucky for Draco, as Ron probably would have snapped and beat him senseless had it not been for her.

“Maybe McGonagall will let you use the Time Turner, Harry,” suggested Hermione.

Harry looked at her with revulsion. “I want no more of that thing Hermione. Really, that was too much.”

The four of them were suddenly aware that a quiet crowd had assembled behind them. Harry turned around first and found all the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team standing there, with the exception of course, of Draco Malfoy.

One of the new players, a spotty first year with a droopy face, dropped a piece of parchment in Draco’s lap.

“For you, Malfoy,” the boy said curtly. They all remained, obviously waiting for Draco to read the parchment.

Draco picked it up and held it to the light checking for any obvious spells. It seemed perfectly harmless, and considering the source of the letter, he didn’t think he had to worry about any particularly nasty curses. As nonchalantly as possible, he opened the letter and gave it a quick read. Harry thought he saw Draco blanch a bit, but the blonde simply re-folded the letter and turned his attention back to his dinner.

“Fine then, sod off. I’m having dinner,” he said to the Slytherin team as he turned his back on them. After a moment, they slunk away.

Harry, Ron and Hermione gave Draco very puzzled looks. Draco dropped his fork, and tossed the parchment to Harry. Harry noted that his hand was shaking badly.

Harry opened it and scanned over it. It was a petition, signed by almost everyone in Slytherin, to remove Draco from the Quidditch team. Harry looked stunned.

“Oh Draco, I am so sorry. Can they do this?” he asked.

“Do what?” cried Hermione. “Let me see!”

She grabbed the letter away from Harry and read it quickly.

“Oh, Draco!” she said somewhat lamely. “Oh well, at least you’ll have more time to study now.

Ron and Harry shot her dark looks. Hermione had never really understood Quidditch.

Draco had picked up his fork and was pushing his food around the plate, trying hard to look nonplussed. He was aware that the Slytherins would be waiting for a reaction from him and was determined not to give them one. Harry could see, though, that he was fighting back tears.

“Didn’t even have the nerve to say it to me. Dropping bloody parchment bits in my lap. In front of a room full of people. Flying around on brooms that my father gave them. Cowards! Bastards!” Draco muttered.

He looked to Hermione, who was still holding the parchment.

“Oh, give me that,” he said. She tossed it down the table to him, where it landed neatly beside his plate.

With little fanfare, he pointed his wand at it and said “Incendio!”. The letter caught fire and disappeared in a whirl of ash.

“So, Harry, you now seem to have an ex-Quidditch captain at your disposal. While Hermione helps you with your lessons, I can help you with your team. For once, nothing would please me more than to see Gryffindor crush Slytherin.”

“Draco, I don’t know what to say. I can’t believe they’d do this,” Harry said quietly. He remembered how devastated he had been last year when he had been forced out of Quidditch.

Draco seemed to think of this too.

“Oh, I can believe it. This is exactly the sort of thing I’d do. Well, actually did do.” Draco snorted. “You were forced out last year, Harry, and you survived. It’s no big deal.” Draco shrugged, but his eyes still seemed a bit glassy and his voice was a bit more gruff than usual.

Hermione started to say something, but Harry shook his head. He thought it best to let it alone.

“Hey you guys,” said Ron with forced cheerfulness, “tomorrow’s Saturday. Want to go to Hogsmeade?”

Hermione and Harry gave him disbelieving glares. Ron looked bewildered and shrugged.

“Only trying to help,” he muttered. Even Ron could sympathize with being deprived of Quidditch, it seemed.

“Actually Ron, that’d be great. I’d love to get out of this bloody castle for a while,” Draco said, surprising everyone. He stood up and threw his napkin on top of his uneaten dinner.

“I’ll meet you guys up in Gryffindor. I don’t think I want any company of the serpent variety tonight.”

Ron looked smugly at Harry and Hermione. Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

Harry watched Draco as he left still holding his shoulders straight and proud. Harry couldn’t help but smile at the Slytherin’s strength, but he was still not quite sure what to do.

“I’m going to see if he’s ok,” he told Ron and Hermione. The trio said their good-byes and Harry left to follow Draco.

Harry entered the common room to find Draco lying on the overstuffed couch by the fireplace. He was staring into the fire and looked completely wiped out. There were a couple of tear tracks at the corners of his eyes, but that was all. He was not crying now.

“Hi,” he said to Harry.

“Hi,” Harry said back. He picked up the Slytherin’s feet and legs, sat down at the opposite end of the couch, and laid Draco’s legs across his lap.

“Do you want to talk?”

Draco continued to stare at the fire for a moment.

“Is this what you Gryffindors do? Pick at each other until someone breaks down and snivels himself into hysteria?” he asked Harry quietly. There was no real malice in his voice. He just sounded tired.

“Well, yes Draco, that’s exactly what we do. Then we all get together in a big circle, hug and kiss each other, and talk about how great it is to be able to depend on each other. When everyone is wearing a smile again, we sing some Christmas carols, maybe some songs from childhood, heat up some marshmallows, and fall asleep in a big, sweaty, happy heap. Didn’t you know? It’s in the Gryffindor rule book. If you’re going to hang out here, you have to do it.”

Draco feigned a look of pain.

“Really Potter, you mock me at a time like this.” He laid his head back down and turned back to the fire. “ And besides, despite this current wave of anti-Malfoyism, I am a Slytherin, and will always be so.” Draco sighed heavily. “No, Harry, thank you, but I really don’t want to talk. I’m new at all this emoting, and I don’t think I am ready for a big boo-hoo in front of you just yet.” He smiled faintly. “But I do have a favor to ask. Can I borrow some money for tomorrow?”

Harry looked at him as if he’d gone mad. “What did you say?”

“I said, can I, the incredibly dashing and fabulously wealthy Draco Malfoy borrow some Galleons for our adventure to Hogsmeade tomorrow? All the family assets have been seized by the Ministry. I’m a bit short at the moment.” Draco did not meet Harry’s eyes at all but continued staring blankly into the fire.

“Why are people so weird about not having money?” Harry mused aloud, noting the blonde’s behavior.

Draco turned to face Harry, eyes narrowed menacingly.

“I have money, you’ll kindly remember, in copious amounts. I just can’t get at it at the moment, thank you, Harry Potter. Now will you or won’t you?”

“Of course I will, don’t be so testy. But please be compassionate in your purchases, Draco Malfoy. I assure the Potter fortune is not quite what you’re used to.”

Harry expected at least a smile from this exchange, but none was forthcoming. Instead, Draco’s eyes grew even more suspicious.

“Why are you being so nice to me, Potter?” he said in a harsh tone.

“Once I fully gain your trust, I’m going to take you out to the Forbidden Forest and bash your skull in with a rock,” Harry replied blandly, pretending to check his nails for dirt. He turned to Draco to find a small smile had spread across the blonde’s features.

Finally, thought Harry. Well, it’s more of a smirk, really, but it’s a start.

“Just my luck then,” said Draco, eyes gleaming strangely.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Draco started wiggling around and whining petulantly.

“I’m tired Harry. Do you think anyone would mind if I slept on this rather uncomfortable couch this evening? Do you have blankets for me? And a pillow? How about pajamas?” he pouted, poking Harry with his toe the entire time.

“What if someone does mind, Draco?” Harry mused. Without realizing it, he had been running his thumb over Draco’s ankle. It was very soft, as Draco was wearing cashmere socks.

“I was only being polite by asking. I realize that this is fairly unrecognizable from me, so let me rephrase. I am going to sleep here. Get me some necessities, won’t you?”

It was a statement, not a request.

Harry sighed and rose. “I am not a house elf, Mr. Malfoy.” Despite his protestations, he went to a cupboard to get some bed linens for Draco anyway and was happy to do it. “As for pajamas, I only have flannels. Will that do to outfit your highness for his nightly snooze? And you do realize that everyone will be up from dinner soon. How do you plan on sleeping?”

Draco grimaced at the mere mention of flannel pajamas.

“Maybe a quick trip back to my dorm for sleepwear. And for your other queries Mr. Potter, let’s just say that I can sleep almost anywhere.”

Draco rose dramatically and made for the exit.

As he turned his back on Harry, he was very grateful to find an excuse to leave. His heart was beating a thousand miles a minute and he felt very flush. He was glad that is was dark in the common room.

Though Harry had not noticed, the Gryffindor’s thumb casually gliding over his ankle had not escaped Draco in the least. He nearly pushed a hole through the Fat Lady’s portrait trying to get out.

“Watch yourself young man! I will not be handled that way!”

Draco could not respond. He had plastered himself against the wall next to the portrait and was giggling madly. He fancied that he could still feel Harry’s thumb tracing small circles around his ankle. It had been a sweet, intimate gesture.

“I see nothing funny!” cried the Fat Lady as she shut tight.

Draco continued to giggle. His knees felt rather weak and he slid down the wall, hugging himself.

“Oh my. I just got kicked off the Quidditch team, yet I am madly happy. Why you ask?,” Draco was speaking out loud, “Because some stupid boy, a BOY for heaven’s sake, was touching my ankle. What the hell is happening to me?”

Draco tried to sound put out by the situation, but instead only continued giggling. He couldn’t recall ever having giggled before, which only made matters worse.

Coming up the stairs, he heard a hoard of Gryffindors returning from dinner.

He turned quickly, swallowed his laughter, said the Gryffindor password, and lunged back through the portrait.

“Stop bothering me! I find you quite rude!” yelled the Fat Lady.

“Harry, they’re coming, save me!” Draco cried theatrically as he threw himself on the couch and pulled the blanket that Harry had put there for him over his head.

“Have you gone mad Malfoy? Are you schizophrenic?” Harry said, but he was laughing at Draco’s antics.

He’s cute when he’s like this, Harry thought. This thought was followed quickly by, WHAT?

Under the blanket, Draco continued to giggle. “I guess I will have to sleep in your sticky flannel pajamas after all, Scarhead.”

In all of his imaginings, Harry would have never pictured Draco Malfoy like this. The blonde was positively giddy.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Ferret, but my pajamas are certainly not sticky. And they had better stay that way.”

Draco giggled again.

Oh, Harry, you have no idea you touched me like that, do you? Draco thought. He pulled the covers off his head and gave Harry his campiest come hither look.

“I can make no promises, my chaste little Scarhead. The sexuality of a Malfoy is legendary. I unfortunately have very little control over it.”

Harry looked at him with feigned disgust. “Sleep in your boxers then.”

“How do you know I wear boxers, Harry?” said Draco, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow.

Harry gazed at him in disbelief. “You know, you don’t seem tired anymore, Draco. Bit mental, but awake.”

“Let’s just say I got my second wind,” Draco responded.

Just then, the Fat Lady opened up, and the Gryffindors filed in.

The whole house was up late into the night. Draco tortured both Ron and Hermione by asking them questions about their sex life, which allowed Harry to soundly beat Ron at Wizard’s Chess, which very rarely happened. At long last, Hermione seemed to remember that she was, in fact, a Prefect, and ordered everyone to sleep.

Harry lay down in his bed and pulled the curtains. Immediately, he began thinking about Draco. It seemed like a lifetime ago that the two of them had hated one another. Had it really only been a week? And what was that whole bit with the bed linens, and the pajamas? Harry had plodded off and practically tucked Draco in on the blonde’s orders. Harry retraced the moments just before the rest of the Gryffindors had returned, just before Draco had gone all silly. Draco had gone outside the room for a moment and had come back a giddy fool. Try as he might, Harry could not see any reason for this change. After nearly an hour of replaying the night over in his head, Harry finally fell asleep, just as confused as ever.

It never occurred to him to wonder why he was lying awake thinking about the way Draco’s skin turned slightly pink when he laughed a lot, or how his eyes twinkled with malevolence when he was badgering Ron and Hermione. Or how many times he had wanted to reach out and touch Draco’s hair and face. These things never occurred to Harry at all.

Downstairs on the common room couch, Draco Malfoy was sniffing the pajamas Harry had loaned him. They were a horrible plaid pattern, and they were slightly too big for him. The knees and elbows were a bit threadbare, and two buttons were missing off the shirt. They smelled heavenly though. They smelled like saltwater taffy. They smelled like the air after a huge, violent thunderstorm. They smelled like something clean, strong, and good.

They smelled like Harry.

“He touched me. Intimately. On my ankle,” he whispered into the empty room. Draco put his pillow over his face and inhaled. It smelled like Harry too.

Bloody hell, he thought, but I think I may be falling love. He realized with satisfaction that his face hurt from smiling.

Chapter Text

Draco stood silently for a moment, drinking in the sight before him.

Harry lay sleeping in the middle of his huge four-poster bed. His mouth was slightly open, and he was snoring ever so softly. He had the covers pulled up to his chin, much like the first time Draco had seen Harry sleeping by his hospital bed.

Tenderness washed over Draco. It was a feeling foreign too him and he welcomed it. He had never felt anything like this for anyone. He reached out his hand and let it hover about a quarter of inch above Harry’s face, aching to touch him, thinking that his skin looked unbelievably soft. Draco sighed heavily and withdrew his hand.

“Wake up, you lazy, slovenly Gryffindor,” he said loudly.

Harry only grumbled and pulled the covers up over his face.

Draco rolled his eyes and plopped down beside Harry as heavily as he could. Plenty of room for me in this bed, he thought idly.

“Get UP, Harry! Weasley and Hermione are already at breakfast. I let you have a bit of a lie in really. Now come on, after all, I need your money for our trip today.” He poked Harry’s ribs for good measure.

“Go away Malfoy. I just decided that I hate you again,” Harry grumbled from beneath the covers.

“Oh, honestly.” Draco had already picked up this little Hermioneism. Raising himself reluctantly from the bed, he ripped the covers completely off Harry with one quick yank.

It was cold and Harry was wearing only thin cotton pajama bottoms. The Gryffindor was most displeased.

“Aaargghh!” he bellowed swiping for the covers that Draco now held in his hands. He turned, and wrapping his arms over his chest, sent a squinty glare at Draco. “I’m freezing, you shit!”

Draco found this grumpy Harry quite as adorable as any other and smiled down at him. Plopping down next to him again, he whined “Harry, please get up. I really want to go. I haven’t been anywhere fun for months. Come ON!”

This much was true. As much as Draco hated to admit it, he had to give to the Weasel; going to Hogsmeade was a great idea. He felt like a little kid. Of course having a huge crush on the most popular boy in school might have a little to do with it as well, Draco chided himself.

Harry finally sat up and continued to glare at Draco. Like a small child, he balled up his fists and rubbed his eyes. Draco noticed that he had a big crease on his cheek from his pillow. His hair was positively everywhere. Draco’s fingers itched to further ruff the messy hair and smooth over the deep indentation on his cheek.

“All right, you filthy little brat. Did it ever occur to you that not everyone is as concerned with your every want and desire as you are, Draco?”

Draco looked at him, feigning shock. “Actually no, it hasn’t ever occurred to me Harry. Is that true, do you think?”

Harry threw his pillow at him and got up. “That might be funny if you were only joking, but I have the feeling that you are genuinely shocked to learn that you’re not the center of the universe, really.” Harry idly scratched his stomach and stretched.

“My, but we are grumpy in the morning. I would have thought that someone like you would be more of an AM person.” Draco said brightly.

Harry scowled at him. “And I would have thought that someone like you would sleep in a smelly dank cave and never show your face to the light of day. Now shut it. I’m going to get a shower.”

Harry shot another glare in Draco’s general direction. Draco realized that Harry probably couldn’t see him very well without his glasses. His eyes were remarkable though; green and liquid. Slytherin green, Draco thought warmly, MY eyes.

“Please do.” Draco retorted snottily. “And do something with that hair, for Merlin’s sake Potter.” He paused, watching Harry squint around the room. “Can you find your way to the bathroom, my blind as a niffler friend?”

Harry flipped him off and shuffled away.

Draco found the warm spot on the bed where Harry had just been and curled up in it. He looked above him at the large golden lion that was pacing back and forth across the canopy of Harry’s bed and growling slightly at the intrusion. Draco stuck his tongue out at it. At once, it stopped pacing and growled loudly.

“Is grumpiness in the morning a common Gryffindor trait? No wonder Slytherins are the obvious rulers of the Universe. We get up before noon” he said to it and stuck his tongue out again. The lion roared angrily.

Draco ignored it completely, got relaxed and looked around. Spotting Harry’s glasses on the nightstand, he reached over, picked them up, and put them on. The room blurred beyond recognition.

“Damn, he is blind,” Draco said with some affection. He took them off and put them back on the nightstand. He settled back and closed his eyes, enjoying the very Harry surroundings.

“You’d better not be sleeping Malfoy, or I swear I will kill you.”

Draco opened his eyes and was at once thankful for Harry’s glasses were currently on the nightstand and not his face. Draco’s mouth had fallen open and he felt pretty sure his eyes were bulging unpleasantly.

Harry had returned from the shower wearing nothing but a small towel around his waist.

“Uh, no, not sleeping,” Draco stuttered. No, I’m WIDE awake, he thought.

Harry started digging through his trunk for clothes. Draco watched hungrily as the muscles in Harry’s arms worked, pulling out a pair of wrinkled jeans and shaking them in an attempt to release some of the larger creases. Then to Draco’s supreme surprise, delight and horror, Harry unceremoniously dropped his towel.

“Harry!” Draco cried, losing all sense of decorum.

“What?” Harry cried in return, hopping on one foot as he tried to get his first leg in his pants. “What’s wrong?” Harry was squinting feverishly all around the room.

“What’s wrong?! You’re standing there with your willy out for Merlin’s sake! Put on your pants!” Please, Draco’s mind cried, before I lose all control and pounce on you!

Harry laughed and rolled his eyes. “Get over it, Draco. Surely this is not the first penis you’ve seen as you do share a dorm room, I believe. Don’t be such a prude.” He pulled on his pants and went back to his trunk to dig for a shirt.

Then it dawned on Draco-Harry didn’t wear underwear. This was more than he could bear.

“I assure you Potter, that no one other than Ginny Weasley wants to see that.”

Liar, his mind teased.

Draco stood up quickly, flattening his hair in obvious agitation. “I’m going down to breakfast. You have five minutes to join me, or we leave without you, you indecent heathen,” he said in a shaky voice then speedily left the room.

“You don’t have any money without me, Draco!” Harry yelled after him, nastily amused at the boy’s discomfort. He pulled a sweater on over his tee shirt and checked his reflection in the mirror. After trying vainly as always to get his hair to lie flat, he said to himself “What’s his problem?”

His reflection shrugged. “Mental?”

“Guess so,” Harry answered before sauntering off to the Great Hall.

In the girl’s bathroom outside the Great Hall, Hermione had just opened her purse to take out her toothbrush. Her parents being dentists, it was her habit to brush her teeth after each meal. She wondered vaguely what was taking Draco and Harry so long when she saw a piece of folded up parchment in her purse. She pulled it out; there was a large, elegantly written letter ‘H’ on the front of it, written in a shimmery, emerald green ink. She stared at it curiously. It definitely wasn’t Ron’s handwriting. Cautiously, she opened the note. A small gasp escaped her lips.

There were four definitions written in the same elegant hand and ink.

1. Mudblood: a disgusting, foul and racially motivated name used for a magical person of non-Wizarding heritage. Used primarily by bigoted pureblood wizards to insult non-pureblood wizards. Considered a most grievous insult.

2. Arsehole: any insensitive, bigoted pureblood wizard who would use such an epithet as ‘Mudblood’ to describe any Muggle born magical person, but particularly a very smart and talented witch currently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. See photo. (Here, Draco had made a quick line sketch of himself.)

3. Apology: the only thing that an arsehole (see above definition) can offer when he has been such a horrible prat for many years.

4. Forgiveness: what an arsehole hopes will be granted by a very smart and talented witch currently attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, even though he is sure that he does not deserve it.

Underneath this, all that was written was “Well?”, followed by the initials ‘DLM’.

Draco Lucius Malfoy.

Teeth forgotten, Hermione gathered her things and ran back to the Great Hall.

XXXXXXXXX

She saw that Harry had finally joined them, and was eating breakfast under the watchful eye of Draco.

“Can’t you eat any faster? We’re all waiting on you, you know,” the Slytherin scolded Harry.

Harry started chewing very, very slowly. Draco growled at him.

Hermione sat down in her usual spot between Harry and Ron. She took a casual sip of pumpkin juice, and without looking at Draco said “All right then, Draco.”

Draco smiled and nodded his head, sealing an unspoken pact. For the rest of their lives, Hermione would be one of his best friends.

This exchange did not go unnoticed by Ron and Harry. Harry only looked confused as he glanced back and forth between the two of them, but Ron was a bit more vocal.

“What was that about?” he said nastily as he glowered at Draco.

“Draco just apologized to me for being a shithead all these years. Now drop it, Ron,” Hermione said sternly as she glanced again at Draco.

Ron turned the famous Weasley red and threw his fork down. Without a word, he stood up and stormed away from the table. Hermione, looking stricken, got up and followed Ron out.

Harry watched them go, forehead wrinkled in worry. Then he turned to Draco.

“Why do you provoke him?” he asked Draco accusingly.

Draco’s eyes widened in shock.

“I didn’t do anything! She and I have just been getting on quite well, and I rather like her, so I just wanted to apologize, like she said. I thought you and Weasley would like that! It’s not my fault if he’s a jealous prat.”

Harry looked at Draco, his eyes slit. “His name is Ron. You’re not trying to break them up are you? You said you like her, what-“

“Harry, are you mad?” cried Draco. He couldn’t believe that this harmless and good-natured gesture had gone so totally wrong. “Do you want in Granger’s pants? Can’t we just be friends? I think she’s funny, I think she’s smart, but NO, I do not like her in that way. At all.” Draco suddenly felt like crying.

Harry looked apologetic at once. Not knowing what to say, he put his hand on Draco’s back.

After the two boys had stared at one another for a few moments, Harry finally found his voice.
“Um,” he said awkwardly, “I’m sorry, Draco. I am just really, really overprotective of my friends. I do think it’s great you apologized to her. I am just surprised, that’s all. Your hatred for Muggle borns is a bit legendary. I’m glad the two of you are friends, I am. She’s great. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Draco was enjoying Harry’s hand on his back, but he was still a bit hurt and, being a Malfoy, felt Harry should know it.

“I thought I was your friend now too, Harry.” He continued sulking in a very charming, hurt-Malfoy way.

Harry sighed and dropped his hand from Draco’s back. “You are Draco. But I still don’t know you nearly as well as I know them. You and I have been enemies for five years, and in all that time, all I’ve known of you is a hateful, spoiled brat. You’re not hateful anymore, true, but I still have a lot to learn about you. I am really sorry. I suppose it’s just sort of a knee-jerk reaction to be suspicious of you after all this time.”

Draco sniffed haughtily. “Well, I suppose you’re forgiven. Just don’t do it again.”

Harry repressed the smile that tried to turn up his lips.

Hermione came back to the table and sat down next to Harry.

“Er, if it’s okay, Ron and I are going to go on ahead. He, er, needs to cool down a bit.” She turned to Draco. “I had to show him that letter, Draco. He wouldn’t believe me otherwise. I hope that’s okay.”

Draco gave her his sweetest look. “Yeah, of course. I didn’t mean to cause trouble Hermione, I really didn’t. I guess I’m just not good at this whole apology thing. I didn’t even think that he might get upset.”

Hermione smiled. “He has this mad idea that I am getting a crush on you.”

Draco looked hurt. “You’re not?”

She laughed and patted him on the back. “You do know that was unnecessary, don’t you? I had already forgiven you.”

Draco actually blushed. Not only was he new at apologizing to people, having someone fawn over him so was unfamiliar as well. He found it all very embarrassing.

“I know you did, but I wanted to earn it. Just don’t run about telling everyone that I’ve gotten in touch with my softer side,” he sneered.

Hermione snickered. “Oh, I do have something over on you now, don’t I? What a lovely idea. Thank you Draco!” she smiled evilly at him. “See you two later.” With a wave, she left them again.

Harry didn’t stop the smile this time.

“Just because you were so nice to her just now, we can go. I’ll forgo the rest of my breakfast and just have a really big lunch at the Three Broomsticks,” he said to Draco as he folded his napkin and laid it on the table.

Draco gaped at him. Harry had already eaten a huge amount of food.

“If you keep eating, you’ll not be able to move. I’m surprised your legs can hold you after all that!”

Harry patted his stomach and smiled. “I’m a growing boy, Draco.”

Draco shook his head in disgust. “You could feed a nation with what you just ate. You are so common, Potter. Hey! Wait a minute! You called me a spoiled brat a minute ago!”

“Yeah?” said Harry as he stood up.

“Well, aren’t you going to take it back?” said Draco with great indignation.

“Draco, I am not going to lie to make you feel better about yourself. You are a spoiled brat.”

“You bloody Gryffindors are so mean. First, Granger threatens me with blackmail when I reveal my sensitive nature to her, and now you’ve insulted me. Honestly.” Draco stood from the table and fixed Harry with an annoyed glare.

It didn’t last long. Coerced by Harry’s grin, Draco broke out in one too. With many people watching their departure, they turned and left for Hogsmeade.

Once outside, they settled into a leisurely stride. It was a clear sunny day, with a very refreshing chill in the air.

“So Harry, what do you want to know about me?” Draco said as they walked.

What don’t I want to know about you? Harry asked himself. Draco was possibly the most intriguing person he had ever met.

“Well, let’s see….will you answer anything?”

“Er, okay. Unless I don’t want to,” Draco said with a smirk and a sigh. “I rather feel like talking about myself today.”

Harry snorted. “When don’t you? All right, here’s something. Why do you hate Muggles so much?”

“Ah yes, going right to the heart of it are we, Potter? All right. There is a legend in the Malfoy family about my great, great something or another grandmother.”

“I can tell it is a legend that has been passed down with great care,” Harry said sarcastically.

“Shut it, Harry. Never interrupt a Malfoy family history lesson. This is valuable and sacred information. Now do you want me to tell you, or do you want to go read about it in one of the books about us in the library?”

Harry looked stunned. “There are books about the Malfoys in the library? The Hogwart’s library?”

“Yes, you dolt, the Hogwart’s library and a few others, I imagine. You’re not the only person who has ever warranted a bit of ink and parchment, you know. Now, as I was saying, this grandmother of mine grew up in a very large manor house, out in the Lake Country. Her family was one of the most respected families in the country. Of course, no one knew they were wizards, as that was looked down on a bit at the time, particularly in rural communities.”

He checked to make sure he had Harry’s full attention. Confident that he did, he continued.

“Anyway, one of their Muggle servants figured it out, I guess, and she turned them in. Well, the authorities swooped down on them,” Draco had an ugly remembrance of his summer, “and arrested them all. Except for my great whatever grandmother, who was adept at Invisibility Charms. She escaped. The rest of them were tried and found guilty of witchcraft.”

Harry noticed that a little bit of anger seemed to be creeping into Draco’s voice.

“They confessed after being tortured for days. Then, they were hanged by their arms and publicly disemboweled. My grandmother who escaped was forced to live in a Muggle orphanage for a years until it was safe for another member of the family to claim her. She lost everything though. No money, no home. Fortunately, the Malfoys have always taken care of their own, so she was eventually okay. But since then, it’s just sort of in our blood. We don’t trust Muggles.”

Harry began cautiously. “But they aren’t all bad Draco. They don’t do that stuff to us anymore, not now.”

Draco snorted. “Only because we go to such great lengths to hide ourselves. And why is that Harry? Because they would do it again. Most of us are only powerful if we have our wands. If you take that away from us, you can subject us to anything. I don’t know, but that doesn’t make me feel very safe. I’m sorry, but I really don’t believe they would just leave us alone. I really don’t. Look at the way those Muggle relatives of yours treat you.”

Harry smiled. “My relatives are idiots, they don’t really count. But you make me sad Draco. I mean, do you even know any Muggles?”

Draco looked at him and sighed heavily. “I think we should change the subject Harry. We might eventually come to some agreement one day, but I am in a good mood, it’s a lovely day, and I don’t want to get all serious. Ask me something else.”

Immediately, Harry said “What happened to you this summer?”

A dark cloud passed over Draco’s face. “What did I just say, Potter? I didn’t think you were really this thick. No serious shit, I mean it. Now, ask me something else that does not require me to relive the worst moments of my life.”

Harry thought a minute. “Do you dye your hair?”

Draco stopped dead and rounded on him. “What did you just say?”

Harry grinned devilishly. “I said, do you dye your hair?”

Draco looked at him smugly. “No, Harry, I don’t. In case you haven’t noticed, both of my parents are blondes, therefore, it stands to reason that I also would be blonde.”

He started walking again. Harry was still grinning maniacally. “Well, I mean, your parents could dye their hair too, couldn’t they?”

Draco was smirking in a very annoyed manner. Harry was loving this. “They could, yes Potter, but they don’t. What would you like me to do, pull my pants down and prove to you that I’m a natural blonde?”

Harry sputtered. “No Draco, that’s not necessary. I can see by the weird white hair on your arms that you are. It’s just that it seems a bit darker in the back than in the front, I thought you maybe, you know, streaked it or something.”

Draco’s hand shot to the back of his head. “It looks darker back here? Really? Are you kidding Harry?”

Harry laughed out loud. “Yes Draco, I am kidding. The reason I thought maybe you dyed it is because it is so uniformly white. Actually, I was kind of hoping you did dye it. It’s not fair that anyone have hair that nice naturally. Obviously, all it does is make a person incredibly vain. But really, you don’t do anything to it? It just looks like that all the time?”

Draco looked at him with a combination of anger and smugness. “I will ask you once, and only once, not to freak me out like that again. Darker indeed. You are forgiven this time because I now realize that you were driven by jealously, and for that, I cannot blame you. My hair is gorgeous, is it not? And yes, really Harry, other than use good hair products, I do not do anything to it.”

Harry had the maddening urge to stick his tongue out at Draco. Truth be told, he was a little jealous. Looking at Draco now as they walked, it was easy to see why. He was stunningly handsome with a natural elegance that seemed to emanate from his every pore. Harry knew that someone could outfit him, Harry, in the finest clothes available, send him to charm school and somehow flatten his hair and he would still never possess whatever quality it was that Draco had.

“Where do you get your clothes?” Harry began the questioning again.

Draco continued to smirk. “Another jealousy question I see. I have most of them made. We have a tailor that comes to the manor. Or had one anyway.”

How much money do these people have for Merlin’s sake? Harry thought.

“How much money do you have Draco?” he decided to ask.

“Harry, that question is gauche, even from you, and I refuse to answer it. Really, you have the subtlety of a drunken giant.”

They walked in silence a bit further, Harry feeling a bit embarrassed. Another question came to him.

“How many people have you had sex with?” he blurted out.

Draco broke into an evil grin. “Well, Harry, you are human. I didn’t know noble Gryffindors worried themselves with the pleasures of the flesh.”

Harry glared at him. “You’re the one who freaked out cause I was naked this morning.”

Draco chose to ignore this, and answer the question instead. “Two,” he said curtly.

“Really?” said Harry. “Anyone I know?”

“Well, yes, Harry, you do know them. But I don’t kiss and tell.”

“You said you’d answer anything.”

“Unless I didn’t want to,” Draco corrected, “and I don’t want to answer that. Oh look, we’re here. Let’s go to Honeydukes! And get your wallet out Potter, I want some chocolate.”

Draco sped up and Harry followed sulkily behind. For some reason, he very much wanted to know whom Draco had slept with.

They had a wonderful day together and Harry learned a lot more about Draco, and Draco about Harry, without resorting to questioning one another.

Harry learned, for instance, that Draco only liked dark chocolate. Also, he did not eat red meat, asparagus, or nuts. He had, at an early age, developed a love for really good scotch, and had begged Madame Rosmerta to give him some, but she refused. His favorite color was silver. His birthday was December 11, making him a Sagittarius. He loved to read, particularly children’ literature, which Harry found endearing. He had always wanted a cat, but was not allowed to have one because his father disliked animals. He also learned that Draco had not had any real friends his whole entire life.

Draco learned about Harry that he would eat anything, and in copious amounts. He had no particularly refined cravings, had never even tried scotch, but did seem very enamored with butterbeer. His favorite color was, strangely, Draco thought, black. Harry’s birthday was July 31, making him a Leo. He liked to read, but only adventure or fantasy type literature. He too, had never been allowed pets, but, other than Hedwig, didn’t have any particular preference when it came to the matter. Harry had lots of friends, probably because of his simple, honest and loving nature.

Quicker than it seemed possible, it was time to head back to school. The two boys trudged back along the path to Hogwarts, heavily laden with packages.

“I did very well today, didn’t I Harry? I mean, I was quite frugal really,” Draco said sincerely as they made their way home.

Harry looked at him incredulously. “Are you serious? I thought were buying all this stuff to try and piss me off! You call this frugal? We can barely walk under the weight of all this stuff!”

Draco looked surprised. “I’m sorry Harry, we can take some of it back if you want! I guess I could live without the new robes, well actually, no, mine are a bit short now. Umm, maybe the hair stuff? Goodness, what am I saying?! How about-“

Harry cut him off. “Just keep it all, Draco. You’ve obviously been roughing it for some time. Brat.”

Draco smiled at him. “Oh Harry, I lov-er, lost, LOST, my, er, er. Never mind.” He was avoiding Harry’s face. Dammit Draco! He yelled at himself You almost told him you loved him!

“What’d you lose?” asked Harry, stopping and looking around on the ground.

“Nothing, nothing, thought I lost my watch, but here it is!” Draco said brightly, waving his arm showing Harry his watch. He sped up and swept by Harry. “We’d better hurry up, it’s getting dark.”

Harry watched Draco’s back as the Slytherin nearly trotted away.

What’s he lying about? Harry wondered. He shook his head and followed Draco in silence back to Hogwarts.

I want to thank everyone who had read this and left such nice reviews. This is my first fic, so they are most appreciated!

I will try to keep current with the updates, but I am back in school now, so they may not always be so quick in the making. I have the whole story in my head though, it’s just a matter of writing it down.

For those of you wanting some H/D action, it is coming, I promise. I may have to change the rating to R, I’m not sure how those scenes will play themselves out yet. I hope this doesn’t upset anyone, and at any rate, I will let you know before that chapter.

Thanks again for the encouragement. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

Chapter Text

They reached the castle after walking in silence for the last mile or so, and Harry automatically turned towards the staircase that led to Gryffindor Tower, but Draco had turned towards the path leading to the Slytherin dorm. Harry stopped and looked back at him. Draco seemed lost in thought and somehow unsure of himself.

“Where you going, Draco?” he asked gently. Draco was freaking him out a little bit. He’d been acting strangely ever since the whole watch thing, which Harry knew had been a ruse. He found himself wondering again what was wrong with the blonde.

“I, um, need to get back to my dorm Harry,” Draco said uncertainly. “I am a Prefect, and I haven’t actually spent much time there this week, as I’ve been with you.” His voice was growing accusatory. “I can’t let them think they’ve intimidated me with this silly Quidditch thing, now can I?” He seemed to be recovering from whatever was bothering him and was hitting his old, snarky Malfoy stride again.

“Oh,” Harry said, not bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. “I just thought we could hang out a little longer.” Harry didn’t want their day to end, but he didn’t want Draco to compromise anymore with the Slytherins than he already had. Not on Harry’s account anyway. “But that’s cool, I understand.” He turned and followed Draco down to the dungeons.

Draco was very aware of Harry plodding along behind him. Harry was nothing if not understanding. There were so many thoughts running through Draco’s head at the moment that he had not even noticed that Harry had been unhappy at the prospect of the two parting for the evening. Draco was thinking about what had just happened between them on the walk back from Hogsmeade. The whole Prefect thing had been the best excuse he could think up on such short notice, but Draco could actually care less about his Prefect duties. They could come and take his badge, it would not matter to him in the least. Least of all was his care about what the other Slytherins thought of him. They were fools if they thought they could just dismiss him, abuse him, and suffer no consequences. They should all know him better than that by now. Re-establishing himself as the most powerful person in Slytherin house was not foremost on his mind right now, however.

Right now, he needed to get away from Harry. Draco’s near blunder on the way back from Hogsmeade had unsettled him to his bones. He needed some time to sort out what, exactly, he was feeling for the black haired, green eyed, dejected looking boy following him like a faithful pet down to his house dormitory.

Draco felt almost nauseated. The high that he had been on for the past week had come to a crashing halt. The whole thing had seemed fun at first, a little crush on Harry Potter, his mortal enemy turned friend, but now he was a bit scared. This felt like more than a little crush. If he let Harry know how he was feeling, he was sure Harry would cut him off entirely. And if he couldn’t control himself, then he was bound to give Harry some hint of what was going on inside him, and he wasn’t even sure of what was happening himself. He had wanted people before, found people compelling, but this seemed to be something all together different. Oh, he had joked with himself that he was falling in love with Harry, but the thought that he might really be doing just that terrified him. Love meant surrender. Love meant giving over your power to someone else. Love was something so foreign to Draco, that he almost couldn’t comprehend it. No, he definitely needed more time.

Besides, how could he feel comfortable enough with Harry to let something like that slip? Almost slip, he corrected himself. He had only known him for a week. No, you’ve known him for five years, his inner voice said. Draco sighed and longed to strangle that inner voice. It had never bothered to put in an appearance before this summer and that horrible Veritaserum, and he found that he missed the peace and quiet. He missed the total and utter control he used to have over his mind and emotions. That control had been a lie, he knew, but it had been so much simpler than this.

When they reached the entrance to the Slytherin dungeons, Draco stopped and said the password, and he and Harry entered. This was Harry’s first visit to the Slytherin common room, although Draco had turned the Gryffindor common room into his second home in only a week’s time, forcing the Gryffindors to accept it. The Slytherins were far less receptive to having The Boy Who Lived as their guest, however.

Upon their entrance, Pansy Parkinson stood and glared at the two boys. “Draco, what do you think you’re doing bringing that filth in here?”

Draco was at a breaking point. He turned on her and snarled “Don’t you speak to me, you foul bitch. I am the Prefect for this house, and I will bring whomever I chose to this dorm. You will address me, from this point forward, as Mr. Malfoy. If you continue to disrespect me, Professor Snape will be informed and you will be dealt with. Now, you will apologize to my guest,” Draco said indicating Harry with a nod of his head. Harry watched this scene with growing dread.

Pansy laughed. “Apologize? To him? Did he tell you how he got your wand back that day, after Vince and Greg beat you, Draco?” she simpered, “Did he tell you that he threatened to, what was it you said, Potter, that day? Ah yes, I remember, you said you would hex me until I shit out my intestines, that was it, I think,” she glared malevolently at Harry. He glared back with equal ill feeling. He would never forgive her for enabling those two thugs to beat Draco within an inch of his life. “I will not apologize,” she continued, “Any man who threatens and bullies a woman is filth in my book. And that’s just one of the many reasons he qualifies, if you ask me.” She gave Harry another scathing look.

Draco was on her before she knew it. He had her pinned against the wall, wand in her face. “Pansy,” he whispered menacingly, “be glad it was Potter who found you that day, because unlike me, he is a gentleman, and I am sure his threat was just that. But if don’t apologize to him, right now, I assure you, I will not waste time on threats.”

Pansy looked as if someone had petrified her. Her mouth was open and her eyes were wide with fear. It seemed some fear of Draco still remained in Slytherin house, after all, as no one made to help her. Draco released her and stood back, wand still aloft. She remained plastered to the wall in fear.

“All right then Parkinson, you leave me no choice,” he said with perverse enjoyment. It was obvious that he was having fun. Draco seemed to consider the best way to dispose of Pansy for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak. Harry leapt forward and grabbed his wand arm before he had the chance to do any harm. Harry was shaking badly as he did so, but Draco was steady, and Harry felt an almost manic energy emanating from his body.

“Come on Draco,” he said quietly, “it’s no big deal. I expected nothing less from her. And really, I don’t want her apology anyway.”

Draco now turned on Harry. His eyes flashed with anger, no longer soft and silver as they had been all this day, but hard platinum daggers. Malfoy eyes, full of hate and anger.

“Harry, do not ever interfere with my wand work again. You could get hurt,” Draco said, clearly threatening Harry. He rounded on Pansy again, “This is not finished. I still owe you for your other attack, I believe, and I have a long memory. Do watch your back.” Draco was elegant even when he was being menacing, Harry noticed with a chill. Draco turned and glared at the rest of the Slytherins. “That goes for the rest of you as well. I am still Draco Malfoy, whatever you may believe. I have no intention of taking any shit off of any of you. You have been warned.” Draco pocketed his wand, and languidly gathered his packages. Fearlessly looking several of his fellow Slytherins in the eye again, he marched down the hall to his dormitory.

Harry stood frozen in shock. This was the Draco he remembered from the past five years; cold, threatening, cruel and distant. While the reemergence of the old Draco was a huge disappointment, it was the sudden distance he felt that he found most hurtful. Gathering the rest of Draco’s things from Hogsmeade, which now seemed eons ago, he followed Draco down the hall.

Draco was sitting at a large mahogany desk, writing quickly on a piece of parchment. He had thrown his bags and boxes violently on the ground, their contents now littering the floor. Ink droplets were flying from the force he was using to write. His quill snapped and he threw it on the ground in frustration with a low roar of rage.

“Draco, what is wrong with you?” Harry said, a bit more harshly than he had intended. He was starting to feel distinctly unsafe in this space.

Draco seized another quill and finished what he was writing. He thrust it at Harry. “Here is a list of what I owe you. As soon as I am allowed to access-“

Harry threw the parchment back at him, all feelings of danger being overtaken by his immediate and strong anger. “Fuck off, Draco. Don’t treat me like I’m one of your lackeys, don’t dare. Unlike them,” he waved a quick hand towards the common room, “I am not afraid of you.” Harry was shaking and he felt tears welling in his eyes. It hurt to be talked to this way after the day they had spent together. He thought they were through with this. He thought he would never have to see that cold Malfoy stare directed at him ever again. It hurt more than he cared to consider. In his mind, Ron’s doubting face gave him a knowing look. Instinctually, he found himself reaching inside his cloak for his wand, awaiting Draco’s reaction.

Draco absorbed everything in an instant, and he blanched. All the energy and anger drained from his body. What was he doing? He looked at Harry again, his eyes filled with tears, shaking and vulnerable before him. He noted with a pang that he was reaching for his wand. He thinks I’m going to attack him, Draco thought tiredly. This was not at all what he wanted. He did love Harry, and not just as a friend, and he knew it now, seeing him this way, without a doubt. Why loving someone scared him so much, he didn’t know. But it did. Looking at Harry, wanting to get up and tell him he was sorry, that he never wanted to hurt him, to kiss his trembling lips so gently that he would know Draco meant it, was all too much for him. Overwhelmed, he ran his hands through his hair twice, and slumped over on the desk in front of him. Before he could stop himself, he began to cry.

Harry was not sure what was happening. Draco had just flopped over on the desk in front of him and was not making a sound. Releasing his wand, Harry approached him gingerly and put one hand lightly on is back, still ready for a fight if one was necessary. Then he felt the sobs racking through Draco’s body.

“Draco, what’s wrong?” He was alarmed. He had never known anyone to change moods so dramatically in such a short time span, except himself maybe, and he suddenly had an idea of what was wrong with Draco. The Slytherin had had a traumatic summer, and a very bizarre first week back at school. Harry stopped for a moment to consider how strange the past week must have been for Draco, and getting voted off the Quidditch team by his own house surely had only made it more so. Draco had simply reached his breaking point, and was acting out in the only way he knew. What had Dumbledore said? You can’t undo a whole lifetime of poisoning in a few months.

Still, Harry was not the best at comforting people. The only person he ever knew who cried was Hermione, and it was not like this. This was horrible. He could hear Draco’s breaths coming in dry, choking rasps, and he was shaking so hard it felt like he was having convulsions.

“Harry, lock the door, please. I don’t want anyone to see me like this,” he croaked between breaths.

Harry pulled out his wand and sealed the door. He knelt down beside Draco. “Are you okay?” Here was another thing Harry had never imagined he’d see in his lifetime, Draco Malfoy having an emotional breakdown. He was very touched and wanted nothing more than to comfort the crying boy.

Draco continued to sob. Harry found the way he did this in such total silence to be unbearably creepy. It was almost like he wouldn’t allow himself the release of a good cry. Harry decided that, considering who Draco was, it was probably very much something like that. Draco was probably scared to death of his own feelings. Harry reached out to him.

“Draco, just let it out. What are you afraid of? I’m not going to laugh, I won’t make fun of you,” he said awkwardly, “I’m right here,” he stroked the back of Draco’s head, “I’m right here, Draco.”

Draco tensed. The only person who had ever seen him cry like this was his mother, and she had spoken to him and touched him in much the same way Harry was now. Only Draco hadn’t wanted to throw his mother on the ground and force himself on her, like he did now with Harry. This was the thought completely unhinged him. He had to get Harry out of here, now, at any cost. His sanity depended on it. His head shot up and very nasty, very cruel words played on his lips. He would hurt Potter for being such an insufferable, sentimental fool. He would hurt him for being so comfortable with his pain.

But before the venomous words could escape, Harry’s arms were around him, strong and warm. Draco, shocked and utterly lost in a flurry of conflicting emotions, let himself be pulled up from the chair he was in. Harry pulled him closer, and he could feel Harry’s chest rising and falling, he could feel Harry’s fingers gripping his back, he could feel Harry’s breath on his neck. His anger, his sense of weakness, even his animal lust had gone the moment Harry had embraced him. There was a huge torrent of pain rising in him that he knew he would not be able to stop. It seemed that everything he had been holding inside since the night he was arrested was pouring out of him through his tears and sobs. Harry continued to hold him tightly, unwavering, unafraid, and strong .

Draco wanted to die right there in Harry’s arms. He was sure he would never feel so wholly safe again. He wrapped his arms around Harry and cried unabashedly for half an hour. He’d never felt release like this before.

Somewhere along the way, Harry had maneuvered Draco to his bed and sat him down. They were sitting there now, still wrapped in each other’s arms, Draco resting his head on Harry’s shoulder. Draco’s crying finally subsided and he slowly pulled himself away from Harry. Harry used every ounce of will he had not to reach up and wipe the tears off Draco’s face.

“Harry, I am so sorry,” Draco whispered, looking down at his hands. He looked so tired and wan. His eyes were red and his lips swollen. Harry had never seen anything so delicate and vulnerable, and beautiful, he thought.

Harry put his fingers to Draco’s lips, all his will gone. They were soft and warm. He let them linger while he spoke. “Draco, stop. You don’t have to. I know. Well, I don’t know specifically, but I know what it’s like to have too much going on in your head to deal with. I know how hard that is and how much it hurts. So, please, Draco, don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.” Harry took his other hand and wiped away his tears.

Draco had his eyes closed and was sitting stone still with Harry’s fingers still pressed to his lips, his other hand softly wiping Draco’s cheeks clean. Only when Harry slowly took his fingers away did Draco move. He inhaled sharply and opened his eyes. They were burning like molten steel. He reached out and took Harry’s hands, all the while staring into those dark green eyes, which were filled with endless tenderness.

“Harry, I want to tell you about what happened to me this summer. I didn’t earlier, but I want to now.”

There was a knock on the dormitory door, and both boys jumped. Draco did not drop Harry’s hands and neither of them looked away.

“Sod off!” yelled Harry ferociously, eyes never leaving Draco’s face. He gave Draco’s hands a light squeeze to let him know it was okay. Draco took a deep breath and began telling him everything.

When he was finished, Harry took him in a soft embrace. He was trembling with rage, but trying hard to conceal it. He wanted only to comfort Draco, to protect him.

“Draco, I’m so sorry. If I ever see Moody again, I am going to kill him. Slowly and painfully. I can’t believe that our side did that, not to you.” He pulled away and held Draco out in front of him. He could tell that the Slytherin was exhausted by how limply he complied with every move Harry made. “And Draco, I don’t even know what to say about your father.” I’ve been trying to tell you for years that he was evil, Harry almost said, but caught himself. “Sorry doesn’t begin to cover it. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

Draco smiled weakly. “You know what’s worse than finding out your father’s almost as evil as the Dark Lord himself? The fact that he, and your mother, who you thought at least loved you a little bit, just left you behind like something from the bin. He had to have known something like that would happen to me, Harry. He had to. He knows how the Ministry works. But he left me to it. And he took my mother from me. Now, I’m a total disgrace. I’ve disgraced myself, my family name, everything I’ve ever stood for.” He chuckled sadly. “I’ve probably taken over the number one spot on The Death Eaters “Most Wanted Dead” list. Maybe they’ll leave you alone for a bit now.” Draco’s smirk faded, and he looked down at his long, pale hands again.

Harry took Draco’s chin in his hand and lifted his head. He looked deeply into Draco’s eyes. “You are not a disgrace, Draco. You’ve just accepted the truth, and that’s never wrong, and rarely easy. People are their choices, Draco, and you’ve made the right one.” His voice, while barely a whisper, was fervent.

Draco looked back at Harry. He studied those bottomless green eyes. Yes, he thought to himself, I have made the right choice. He’s right here in front of me.

Draco felt himself leaning in towards Harry. He was exhausted, he was confused, and he was scared, but he was also pretty sure that across from him, Harry was leaning in too.

Draco closed his eyes as his lips brushed against Harry’s.

There was another, more persistent knock on the door. “Oy, Malfoy! Some of us need to get to bed. What are you doing in there?”

Both boys tore apart as if they had been yanked backwards by invisible hooks attached to the backs of their robes. Draco fell straight back into his bed with a groan, and Harry stood up so fast he banged his head on the bedpost beside him. Draco had put his hands over his face and was trying not to cry again. The ache he felt to be touching those lips again, to be back in Harry’s arms, was torture.

Blushing so furiously he felt that his face might explode into flames at any moment, Harry ran a hand through his hair and looked down at Draco, prone on the bed. He shuddered. He realized that he was reaching out his hand to touch him, and quickly yanked it back. “Uh, good night Draco,” he stammered, and fled from the Slytherin’s room. He nearly knocked over the boy standing outside the door. Once in the corridor, he ran all the way back up to Gryffindor Tower.

Draco drew the curtains around his bed. They had kissed, and Harry had run away. But they had kissed. And that was all that mattered to Draco.

He didn’t even bother to take off his clothes before he fell into a deep, escapist sleep. He would think about all of this tomorrow.

Not surprisingly, he quickly fell into a dream of Harry.

Harry virtually hurled himself through the portrait into the common room. His heart and mind were racing. He needed desperately to be alone.

Instead, he was greeted by Ron and Hermione, curled up on the couch in their pajamas.

“Hi Harry,” they said in unison, then giggled. Harry looked at them aghast; he was aware that this was the last thing he needed at the moment.

“Hi, I’m really tired, I’ve got to get to bed,” he blurted.

They both looked hurt and highly confused, but he couldn’t help it right now.

“We just wanted to apologize for not making it to Hogsmeade. We were, um, unexpectedly detained here,” Hermione giggled.

Harry had not even noticed that they had not turned up in Hogsmeade. He had been having so much fun with Draco all day…..

Draco. He groaned.

“Harry, are you all right? You look peaky,” said Hermione.

“Oh, you are quick.” Harry drawled sarcastically, “No, at the moment, I’m not all right. I told you, I need to get to bed.” Hermione started to speak. Harry quickly cut her off. “And no, I don’t need Madame Pomfrey, I don’t need Dumbledore, and I don’t need the two of you following me up and bothering me,” he stopped at the look of disbelief on their faces. He nervously ran both hands through his hair; he was sweating like crazy. “Please,” he was begging now, “I will be all right. I promise.” He had turned to go to his room when he heard Ron take a deep breath behind him.

In a tentative voice, Ron said to Harry’s back “Harry, did Malfoy do something to you.?”

“Ron, SHUT IT!” Harry roared, and fled up the stairs.

Everyone in the dorm was asleep, to Harry’s great relief. He tore off his shirt and pants and threw himself, naked, on his bed. He was burning up and his heart was racing.

In his mind, he replayed the events of the evening from the time he and Draco left Hogsmeade to the moment he left Draco lying in his bed in the Slytherin dorm. He could not make sense of it. What the hell had happened?

He had kissed Draco Malfoy, supposedly his new friend. On the lips. Not a friendly, nice to see you kiss, but a soft, I want to love you kiss.

Harry groaned. He did not understand any of this. Kissing Cho Chang had made him so nervous he had felt like throwing up, and he had kissed Draco without so much as a second thought. It had been so totally natural, that if that guy had not knocked on the door…..

Harry groaned again. Warmth shot through his stomach in a not entirely unpleasant way, and he threw his eyes open. He didn’t want to think about that. He had to figure out what he was going to do. He would, after all, be seeing Draco tomorrow. If their pattern over the last week was any indication, he would be seeing Draco all day long tomorrow. He threw his arms over his face, absolutely miserable. Why was he always ruining things?

He took his arms away and stared at the lion above him, who was sleeping peacefully. He had to concentrate.

Draco had been very upset and it had moved Harry see him break down like that. He had never suspected that Draco had emotions that deep. The story he had told him about his arrest, about being forced to wear that horrible tracking device like he was some kind of criminal, had made Harry sick. He could sympathize with that marked feeling, after all. When Draco had told him about these things, Harry had felt more intimate with him than he had ever felt with another person in his entire life. He could feel Draco’s pain and fear when he recounted his arrest to him, when he relived the moments of realization about his father in the Ministry. He had recognized a kindred spirit when Draco spoke about the sudden loss of his parents, about his feelings of being trapped by the Malfoy name and everyone’s expectations of him. Harry had simply wanted to comfort Draco, he had felt close to Draco in a very new and intimate way, and somehow his raging sixteen-year-old hormones had confused the situation terribly.

Yes, that was his story and he was sticking to it. Now, if he could just get Draco to buy it, and not hate him for the rest of his life. Because he had come to like having Draco around, truth be told. He found his presence at his side immensely comfortable, comfortable in a way that he did not feel even with Ron and Hermione. Draco was like him. More than anything, he didn’t want to lose him.

Harry would make him see that it had been a mistake, all Harry’s fault. He would promise Draco that it would never happen again.

Feeling hopeful at least, Harry turned over and, hours later, was finally able to fall asleep. Draco would have to understand, he would just have to.

Harry’s sleep was uneasy. In his dreams, he was back at the Tri-Wizard Tournament, facing the dragons again. Only this time, his dragon was a sleek, young, white and silver dragon like he had never seen before. It had startling grey eyes that missed nothing. It lay elegantly sprawled on its side as it watched Harry fly around its’ head, smoke gently coiling out of its nose. After a bit, it seemed bored with Harry’s circling, but instead of trying to kill Harry, it reached up into the sky, plucked Harry gently off his broom, and tucked him safely under one strong, velvety silver wing. In his dream, Harry had curled up and gone to sleep there.

In his sleep, Harry smiled contentedly.

Chapter Text

Draco woke earlier than usual, his mind a fog. He rolled over and groaned at how puffy his eyes and face felt. Then, sitting straight up, he gasped out loud.

“Harry!”

He jumped from his bed and made for the Prefect’s bathroom. He hurried, hoping that he could catch Harry before he got up. As he showered, he thought about what he would say; none of it sounded good. He knew that he wanted to let Harry know how he felt. He was in love, and he was still a little scared at how it was going to turn out, but he was happy. They had kissed last night, and who knows what might have happened if they had not been interrupted? Draco smiled devilishly at that thought, then turned his attention to the morning ahead. He started to imagine the look on Harry’s face when he confessed his feelings.

“I am in love with you, Harry,” he practiced out loud to the empty bathroom, “Harry, I love you,” he said again. “Potter, you git, I love you!” Much to his surprise, he found that saying this didn’t feel strange at all. “There, that wasn’t so bad, now was it Draco.” He laughed. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. “I am in love with Harry Bloody Potter! The Freaking Boy –YES BOY- Who Lived!” he shouted. He laughed again as the words echoed off the bathroom tiles. He exited the shower, put on his robe and combed his hair. Checking himself in the mirror he said, “How could he resist you?”. He turned and left the bathroom, still imagining the many ways the morning could turn out.

Before he could make it back to the Slytherin dungeons to change clothes, however, he literally ran into Harry. Or rather, Harry ran into him.

Harry had been barreling down the corridor from the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Draco, still wearing his robe and sporting wet hair, had been exiting the bathroom when they collided. Both boys almost fell to the ground.

“Harry, what on earth are you doing? You nearly knocked me down!” cried Draco as he balanced himself and straightened his robe.

Harry was breathing hard, apparently having run most the way to the dungeons. His hair was crazy, he was barefoot, and he was still wearing his pajamas.

“Listen, Draco, about last night…” he began. Draco felt a slow smile spreading across his face. “I just want to apologize. I don’t know what happened to me, I just, I mean, you were so upset, and you seemed so sad, and I just, I don’t know Draco. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean for that to happen, and I promise it will never happen again. Can you ever forgive me?”

Harry was wringing his hands and looking at Draco with desperation in his eyes. Draco felt his face go from a smile to his trademark smirk. Inside, he had gone cold. He was eleven years old again, standing at the entrance to the Great Hall, looking at the famous Harry Potter, thinking that he was beautiful, and that he wanted him. The wanting had a different name now, but the rejection felt exactly the same. Afraid of what might come out if he tried to speak, Draco only crossed his arms, arms he had been waiting to throw around Harry, and continued to smirk.

“Draco? Are you okay?”

He wanted to say no. He wanted to grab Harry and crush his mouth against his own. He wanted to hold him again, touch him again. But Draco knew that if he did these things, he would lose Harry forever. And he positively did not want that. In that moment, Draco decided that having Harry as a friend was better than having him not at all. In that moment, Draco felt his heart break.

“Yes Potter, I am fine. You’re just so funny. So, you felt sorry for me, did you?” Draco said with a hint of irritation to cover his disappointment.

“No, no, Draco, it wasn’t that. I don’t know what happened. Honest I don’t.”

Draco wanted to run into his room, throw himself on the bed and cry again. How could Harry not know? He had been there, he had to have felt how natural and real it was between them. Had he, Draco, imagined the whole day, the whole kiss, the whole thing? No, he knew he hadn’t. But no matter what had happened yesterday, no matter how wonderful it had been for Draco, the boy standing in front of him now was not ready to deal with it. The boy in front of him now only wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. To make him happy, Draco decided he would pretend, too.

So Draco smirked and let the sarcastic tone he always used when he teased someone creep into his voice. “I understand Potter. I must be very beautiful when I’m vulnerable. I haven’t done that vulnerable thing in front of very many people, so I don’t have much feedback, but I can only imagine. Sad grey eyes, big puffy lips, pretty blonde hair. After all, emotions were high, we’d had a nice day together, and we’re sixteen-year-old boys. I’m sure our hormones just got the best of us.”

Harry sighed with relief. “No Draco, it was all my fault. I just really wanted to make you feel better, and it came out all wrong.”

Kind of like now, Draco thought to himself as he smirked at Harry. It seemed to be the only expression he was capable of maintaining at the moment.

“Still friends?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Yes, of course,” Draco replied.

Harry sighed yet again, and actually slumped against the wall with relief. “Good, great. Thank you.” He looked up at Draco. “Since today is my last free day before my schedule gets out of hand, do you want to hang out? Go flying or something?”

Draco had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to say no, that he had other things to do. He wanted to begin distancing himself now. But he knew that his days of doing what he wanted to do were over. All he really and truly wanted to do was be with Harry, after all, in whatever way that meant. Love was, Draco reminded himself, about giving yourself up willingly. He knew that he already had.

“Let me dry my hair and put some clothes on.”

Harry grinned, “Brilliant. I’ll get ready and we can meet on the pitch in, say, half and hour?”

Draco nodded and turned to enter the Slytherin dungeon, wondering if he would ever be the same again.

Harry’s feet were freezing. He had not bothered with even socks when he had awoken this morning and remembered the night before.

Draco had been the first thought he had. He had leapt from bed and run all the way to the dungeons, wondering the whole while what he would do if Draco rejected his apology. The thought had made him run faster. He had to see Draco and take care of everything.

He had a vague idea of what he was going to say, but was taken completely off guard when the two of them had run into one another in the hallway. Harry had said the first things that came to his mind, the elaborate explanation he had planned last night before sleeping gone from his mind. Miraculously, Draco had forgiven him.

Harry had never felt so relieved as when he saw that familiar smirk and heard that sarcastic tone in Draco’s voice. He had been given another chance. He was walking back to Gryffindor Tower now, lost in thought.

Thoughts of kissing Draco last night, and how good it had felt. Thoughts of how beautiful he had been this morning, with his wet hair and that fuzzy cornflower blue robe. Thoughts of how all Harry had wanted to do was untie the belt of that robe and pull Draco’s naked body next to him.

Harry was very disturbed by these thoughts, but he seemed powerless to stop them. In the bright morning light, there seemed no way for him to deny them.

Wondering about these new feelings, he made his way into the Gryffindor Prefect’s bathroom for a shower. He guessed this meant he was gay. Well, that would explain a lot, I guess, he thought to himself. But, what, exactly, did it explain? He thought of Cho, and how pretty she was, and how he had gotten that weird feeling in his stomach when he looked at her. Then there had been a moment this summer at the Burrow when he had been watching Ginny sunbathe and had gotten that same feeling. And he could think of at least a dozen other times when he had felt it, looking at various girls around school. Maybe I’m just Draco-sexual he thought. It was not a thought that was particularly comforting. His feelings for Draco made the feelings all those girls had given him seem moot. He stepped into the shower, knowing that he would be thinking these things through for a long time to come.

Feeling very confused and a little weary, he showered quickly and ran to his room and got dressed. It had been twenty minutes-Draco would be waiting for him if he didn’t hurry.

Draco and Harry were soon joined on the pitch by a number of other students who crowded around them, hoping to pick up on some hint of conversation that they might feed to the school gossip machine. Most of them were younger and were still a bit in awe of Harry. Harry expressed to Draco that he was feeling a little uncomfortable, so they decided to return to the castle. They hunted down Ron and Hermione, and the four of them spent the day wandering the halls, playing various games and gossiping amongst themselves.

That evening, they all caught up on last minute homework, and helped prepare Harry for his upcoming week. Hermione made a study schedule for him, much to Draco’s amusement, and she and Draco helped him finish up some particularly rough Potions homework. Harry was very good in all of his other subjects, but Potions was truly beyond him.

“Harry, I don’t know what to do to make you better at this. It is very subtle, as Snape is always saying, and you don’t have a subtle bone in your body,” Draco summed it up nicely for him. Harry gave him a playfully hurt look, and, with Draco shaking his head with wonder, they carried on.

It was well past one in the morning when Ron and Hermione gave up on them and went to bed. They left them hunched over a piece of parchment laid out on top of a book between them on the Gryffindor couch, planning out the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s practice schedule. Draco was drawing up a harrowing schedule for his former rivals.
Harry looked at it with concern.

“Draco, we can’t practice for that long, I have to go for lessons with Dumbledore and Remus. Besides,” Harry sighed and threw the parchment on the coffee table, “now that I don’t have to play you, there really isn’t that much competition left. No one else fights me the way you did.”

Draco leaned back on the arm of the couch and smiled at Harry. “Bit sure of yourself, aren’t you Potter? I mean with you as Seeker, why bother with practice at all?”

Harry blushed and stammered. “That’s not what I mean! Of course we have to practice, I’m just saying that I don’t think I should work my team like they’re house elves is all! They’re mostly pretty good, some of them just need some refining. We’ve all got lives other than Quidditch, you know.” Harry was still very embarrassed.

Draco had gotten the reaction he wanted, and relaxed down into the couch some more. He yawned and nodded. “There’s life outside Quidditch for Harry Potter?” Draco teased. Harry was starting to look a bit cranky. “I’m just kidding Harry. I’m just a bit jealous that you get to play, I think. Even still, you’re probably right. Your team could be shit and you’d probably still win every game. Everyone knows who the best Quidditch player in the school is.” Draco smiled at Harry, repairing any damage that might have been done. “I’m tired. Will you get that blanket and stuff for me again? Pajamas too, please.”

It amused Harry to no end when Draco ordered him around like this. Harry stood and looked down the couch at him. He was leaning back with one arm casually thrown over his head, and the other resting on his stomach. His eyes were closed. Harry felt that same old warm feeling creep through his stomach. Quickly, he left the couch and went about getting Draco’s things for bed.

“You know, Draco, you should just leave a pair of pajamas here. I know you don’t like mine. What do you sleep in anyway?” Harry said as he tossed his pillow and a blanket at Draco’s head.

Draco swatted the items away and looked sleepy-eyed at Harry. “I’m still shocked at how mean you are sometimes, Potter. I was almost asleep. I sleep in silk, of course. What else is there?”

“Well, I happen to like my flannels very much, but I haven’t been able to wear them that much recently.” Harry smiled at him and sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

Draco had stripped down to his boxers in order to change into Harry’s pajamas. Harry felt himself color and looked away. He had gotten a blanket too, and now pretended to be busy with it so he wouldn’t have to look at Draco’s near naked form.

Draco lie back down on the couch and automatically put his feet in Harry’s lap. He was secretly hoping that Harry would once again touch his ankle in that absent-minded way, but Harry did not. Sighing heavily, Draco muttered “Good night, Harry.”

“Good night Draco.” Harry opened his Defense Against the Dark Arts book, but did not look down at it. It was only for show in case Draco should look up at him and catch him staring at him. But within minutes, Draco was asleep.

Harry watched the way Draco’s eyelids fluttered while he slept. He watched the way his smooth, white chest rose and fell in the firelight. His mouth was opened slightly, and he sometimes made small noises in his sleep. Harry felt as if he were being enchanted. He put his book down and rested his hand on Draco’s leg, still watching him sleep. Not long after, Harry too, was sleeping peacefully.

Chapter Text

Hermione was nothing if not observant. She prided herself on it. She was also very reflective, and at the moment, she was sitting in the library, staring off into space, turning over the events of the last two months in her mind.

Without even realizing it, she had been keeping a very close eye on Harry. Watching him was second nature to her now, and she no longer even considered it anything but part of her duty as his friend. She had thought that after last year she had seen all there was of Harry, that there could not be anymore of him to reveal. She had been wrong. This year Harry had undergone more changes than in all the years she had known him combined. Where some people would crumble under the pressure Harry was under, it seemed to be transforming Harry into something beyond himself.

She had first noticed a difference in him back at the Burrow. Memorializing Sirius had seemed to help him put that behind him somewhat, though she knew he still blamed himself for his godfather’s death, and he had seemed to grow happier. The Weasley’s becoming his legal family had lifted Harry’s spirits considerably. He had been happier than anyone else when she and Ron had finally gotten together, but she thought she sometimes detected a sadness in his eyes when he looked at the two of them.

He had also become more reflective, and this was only intensified when they returned to school and he had begun his advanced magic lessons. He became very protective of the time he was able to spend with his friends, which wasn’t much considering his schedule. They didn’t even go to Hogsmeade very often anymore, as Harry usually wanted to stay in the Gryffindor common room alone with his friends and away from the people who still gawked at him and made him feel awkward. If anything, Harry was wearing his fame more heavily now than ever.

There had been another drastic change in Harry, which Hermione credited directly to his lessons with the teachers. He was becoming a very powerful wizard. She had noticed a palatable energy coming off him when he did even the simplest spells, or when his emotions were running high. He would never talk about what he was learning unless Ron or Draco absolutely forced him into it, but she had noticed that he had taken on a very different air.

He was far more confident than he had ever been. Harry never questioned himself anymore and seemed to be able to forgive himself when he did happen to make a mistake, which was not often. His intuition, which had always been strong, was now infallible. On the Quidditch field, this raised his level of play to a point never seen on anything but professional teams. More than ever before, it was always a foregone conclusion that Gryffindor would win, and they were, in fact, undefeated with Harry as their captain. While most of the school now believed and supported Harry, he was not bothered in the least by those few detractors that cared to challenge him. Hermione would sometimes look at him in awe, like one of the first years at school, feeling that this new person wasn’t her friend Harry at all. In those moments, the sweet, non-assuming boy she knew was gone and had been replaced with an almost supernatural creature. He had become so good at Occlumency that even his scar never bothered him anymore. For the first time since she had known him, Harry’s destiny and who he was had become very real for her.

She remembered a night when she had waited up for him in the common room, having not seen him, except in class, for days. Draco had been asleep on his couch, and Harry had come in very late and very tired from a lesson with Dumbledore. He had gone immediately to Hermione and hugged her very tight, without a word. She had felt his back heaving shortly after.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” she had said, alarmed.

He had said nothing for a minute, but just held her and cried quietly into her bushy hair. When he pulled away, she saw the half moon circles of exhaustion under his eyes. He looked much older than his sixteen years.

“Harry?”

His whole face contorted with the effort to not break down. She grabbed him again and pulled him close.

“Harry, what is the matter?” She had grown very frightened; that was not like Harry at all.

He had cried himself out and sat facing her again. He took her hand. “Hermione, don’t ever let this many days go by again without us seeing one another. I mean it. It’s harder for us, I know, because we don’t have as many classes together and we don’t share a room, and” he broke off and looked at Draco with a smile, “you don’t usually stay up and wait for me. But we have to make time. I don’t care if it means staying up all night, we have to make time.” His voice had a desperate quality that broke her heart.

“Harry,” she said gently, “what’s this about?”

He sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his fists. “It’s just all this shit they’re teaching me, Hermione. It’s very advanced magic, things that are usually only taught to Aurors. It’s very cool, and under different circumstances, I would very much enjoy learning all of it. But it has raised a lot of, er, interesting emotions in me. I think I finally really get that I might actually die in this. I mean, I always knew it logically, I never ran from the fact, but it never really sank in until now. Like, I’d be thinking about it before and I’d look around, and you and Ron would be there, and it’d be a nice day out or whatever, and it just didn’t seem possible that I could actually die. It didn’t seem possible that I could actually lose everything I love.” His face screwed up again, and he choked back a sob. After second, he got himself under control, and continued. “It’s just, I’ve never been so happy. I have a real family now, you and Ron are so good together and I want to see where that goes, and Draco is still so lost in a way, and it is so amazing to watch him try and find himself. I don’t know, sometimes I just look at the three of you, at us, here and happy, and all I can think is ‘I don’t ever want this to end’. Especially not now, Hermione, when there’s so much good that’s going to happen. All I can think is ‘What if I never get to see them get old, and get married, and have babies and do all those things people do?’” He had looked down at Hermione’s hand in his. “I just don’t want to die, Hermione,” he finished quietly.

She had completely broken down. She had thrown herself on her friend and cried in loud, braying sobs. She had woken Draco up, and it was a known fact that Draco could sleep through anything. Come to think of it, she was about to cry now just remembering it.

Think of something else, she chided herself. An idea came to her immediately: her other friend, her new friend, Draco Malfoy.

Draco’s transformation over the past two months had been almost as remarkable as Harry’s. He had returned to school almost broken, the world he had lived his whole life in completely shattered. Everyone who had previously loved him had hated him, and he had found solace in the most unlikely of places: the three Gryffindors who had been his worst enemies. She had always thought of Draco as a weak bully hiding behind his father’s power and name. Again, she had been wrong. In his own way, Draco was very strong.

He was once again the most popular and respected Slytherin. This was mainly due to an incident that had all the trappings of the old Draco Malfoy, but it had changed the tide for him in his house.

The Slytherins had been in the process of trying to have Draco removed as Prefect. Emotions against him were very high and there was fear that there would be another attack on him. But Draco had remained nonplussed, or had appeared to, and had gone about his duties without a word. One day as he was patrolling the halls, he came on a scene involving Blaise Zabini’s second year sister, Americus, also a Slytherin, being attacked by a fourth year Ravenclaw boy. Draco had said that, when he arrived, the boy had her pressed against the corridor wall behind one of the suits of armor and was literally molesting her. The girl had been crying and trying to get away. Draco had hexed the boy with such a powerful spell that he had been taken, unconscious, to the hospital wing. When Draco was questioned, he refused to tell anyone what he had done to the Ravenclaw so that the spell could be lifted. After much trial and error, Dumbledore had finally figured out what Draco had hit the boy with and healed him, but he had had to remain in hospital for three days, after which he was expelled.

After the incident, the Slytherins had immediately dropped their petition to have Draco removed as Prefect, though the school was now seriously considering stripping him of this privilege. Ultimately, he was allowed to remain as Prefect, but he lost 200 house points, firmly removing any Slytherin hope of winning the House Cup, was put on probation, and was given a month’s worth of detention. Draco’s only reaction to all this was that he was upset that he would have to miss Harry’s Quidditch practices.

He was the immediate hero of Slytherin house. They went back to following him wherever he went, and wore their lack of house points with pride. They had even offered him his position back on the Quidditch team, which he refused saying that he did not have enough time in his busy schedule. Hermione suspected that he didn’t want to have to play Harry. He began to spend more time with his old Slytherin friends, but he did not neglect his new Gryffindor friends. In fact, whenever Harry was around, Draco was sure to be there. He still spent every night sleeping on the Gryffindor common room couch.

Then there was the matter that Draco was now insanely beautiful. He had always been a good looking boy, but he had finally had his last growth spurt and no longer looked adolescent and gangly. His hair was now touching his shoulders, and his face had sharpened with maturity. While Ron and Harry had very athletic, sturdy builds, Draco was built very lithely, almost like a dancer. Girls literally threw themselves at him everywhere he went. He showed no real interest in any of them, though he flirted unabashedly with them all. Even Hermione, who considered Draco almost a brother, was sometimes taken aback by how gorgeous he was.

Something was bothering her about her two friends, however, as she sat and thought about them. What was she not seeing? She kept turning it over and over in her mind. Several things came to her at once: Draco, asking her endless questions about Harry during Arithmancy and during study times; the way he always seemed to light up when Harry entered the room; how he attended every Gryffindor Quidditch practice (though he loyally sat with the Slytherins at all the matches); how he always made sure there was food waiting for Harry in the Tower when he had missed dinner; and of course, the way he always waited up for Harry and slept every night in the Gryffindor common room.

Then, she thought, there was Harry; his absolute non-interest in girls, even though he had almost as many after him as Draco did; the way he always made a bee-line for Draco in any situation; the way he talked non-stop about Draco on the rare occasion they weren’t together; and of course the way he usually ended up falling asleep with Draco on the couch. She thought about it, and couldn’t count the times she had come into the common room early in the morning to prepare for her day and found the two of them curled up asleep together, sometimes not in strictly platonic poses.

She sat up so quickly that the books that had been in her lap toppled to the ground. “Oh!” she gasped. Could that be possible? And if it was, did Harry and Draco know? How could it have taken her this long to figure this out?

At that moment, Ron came running into the library, dirty and sweaty, still in his Quidditch robes from practice.

“Hermione, hurry, you’ve got to come to the Tower. It’s Draco. He’s gone all funny.”

Without hesitation, Hermione gathered her things and followed.

They found Draco sitting on the edge of Harry’s bed, face buried in Harry’s pajama shirt.

Hermione approached cautiously and place her hand on Draco’s back. His head jerked up and the two stared at one another.

“Draco, what are you doing?” she asked him quietly while glancing at Harry’s shirt.

He lowered it into his lap, but still clung to it so tightly that his knuckles were white. His eyes had a wild look about them as he stared at the photo Harry had of Ron and Hermione on is nightstand.

“I don’t think I can continue to be friends with you guys anymore,” he said, pain in his voice.

Hermione looked at Ron. “What is going on here? What happened?”

Ron reddened. “I don’t know Hermione! I didn’t do anything! I just came back from Quidditch practice and found him here!

Draco turned to Hermione. “It has nothing to do with him, Hermione. It’s me. I’m an idiot.” He pulled the shirt back to his face and closed his eyes.

Hermione stroked his hair. “Draco, we’re not just going to let you leave us without some kind of explanation. Start talking. Now.”

Draco inhaled. Was he smelling Harry’s shirt, she wondered. He put it down in his lap again.

“I got out of detention early today because Snape had an Order meeting he had to attend.” Ron and Hermione exchanged surprised glances. “Don’t look so shocked, you two. Both Harry and Professor Snape told me about it ages ago. Anyway, I got out early and I thought I would go down and try to catch the end of Harry’s practice since I’ve missed the last few.” His face darkened as he continued. “When I got there, I could see that practice was over, and that Harry was no longer on the pitch. So I went around to the locker rooms, thinking he was in there. But he wasn’t. He was standing by the stadium, talking to that utterly annoying, scrawny, stupid, ugly Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood. She had those horrible cabbage earrings in, of all mortifying things.” Draco was grimacing as he spoke, venom dripping from every word. “I was about to call out to him to try and save him from the situation, which any normal human would want to be saved from, and he leaned over and kissed her.” Draco was twisting Harry’s shirt into knots in his lap.

Hermione and Ron looked confused. “Kissed her, Draco?” Hermione said.

“Yes,” Draco said, still spitting, “on the cheek, but kissed her just the same.”

He’s jealous, thought Hermione. Oh shit, I was right.

“Well Draco, the two of them are friends. He kisses me all the time, I don’t –“

“Well that’s you, isn’t it Granger?!” Draco yelled. It had been a long time since he had called her that. “You’re practically his second mother after ‘Mum Weasley’. This was different. She’s a girl!”

“Draco, I’ll kindly ask you to call me Hermione. And I am a girl too, you know. What’s the big deal if Harry gave Luna a friendly kiss on the cheek? Why has it got you in such a snit?” She had to be careful, but she had to find out if Draco knew what was going on here.

Draco’s face went a deep shade of red. Hermione had seen him blush on several occasions, but this was a color she would have never believed his skin could achieve. He dropped his head and said, ever so quietly “I’m in love with him.”

“What?!” Ron yelled.

Draco turned to face him, fierceness written all over his face. “I’m leaving! I do not need to hear any of his shit about this. It’s been hard enough for me these past few months, and I don’t want to hear it now. Fuck off Weasley!” He threw Harry’s shirt on the bed and started to walk away. Ron reached out and grabbed his arm. For a moment, Hermione thought there was going to be a fight, but then a huge grin broke out across Ron’s face. Draco looked as if he were ready to erupt.

“Let go of me Weasley, or what I did to that Raveclaw will pale in comparison to what I do to you!”

Ron continued to grin. “Mate, I do not care if you are in love with Harry. I think it’s great. I think it’s wonderful. In fact, I’m quite relieved.”

Whatever Draco was expecting, that had not been it. “What?” he whispered.

“Yeah, it’s brilliant. Harry needs somebody. And now I don’t have to worry about Hermione falling in love with you. Do you think Harry feels the same way? About you, I mean?”

Draco just stared at Ron, speechless. He absent mindedly picked up Harry’s shirt again and sat on the bed.

“Ron, you are a prat,” Hermione said curtly. “What can I do to make it clear to you? I love you. I am going to marry you someday. I want to have fifty of your obnoxious, red-headed babies. But that is neither here nor there. Right now, we have to help Draco.” She turned to her friend, and then quickly back to Ron. “I can’t believe you’re being so cool about this, by the way.”

Ron was positively beaming now. “Well, Charlie’s gay, isn’t he? He’s in love with some Romanian dragon handler. Why else would he stay in that horrible place for so long?”

“What?!” cried Hermione. “Do your parents know?”

“Of course they know, Hermione, it’s not a big deal. People fall in love all the time.”

“Excuse me, while I understand that all this Weasley family drama is very interesting, I am having a personal crisis at the moment and I require assistance with it.” Draco seemed to have recovered a bit. “And I must say, I too am shocked by your reaction, Ron, though I can see where you would think that Hermione here could fall in love with me.”

Ron blushed.

“All right, yes, Ron and I will talk later. Now Draco, I think Ron has asked a very important question. Do you think Harry feels the same way?”

“Would I be up here snogging his pajamas instead of him if I did?” Draco asked.

Hermione looked at him with a smirk. “I think that boys are the dumbest creatures on the planet when it comes to emotions. Please, Draco, do tell me why you think Harry doesn’t feel the same way about you?”

Draco looked at her with a combination of shock and pleasure. He had never seen Hermione get sarcastic like this before. It rather reminded him of himself.

“Well Hermione, he’s a boy, for one. And he’s never so much as hinted that he has any feelings for me at all, other than being my friend, of course.”

“I disagree, Draco. Let’s think about his for a minute. What I’m getting from you and Ron is that homosexual relationships are not that big of deal in this world, right?’

“They’re not the majority, but no one really disapproves or anything,” Draco replied.

“Well, where Harry and I are from, it’s a very big deal and lots of people disapprove. It’s not considered normal by a lot of people. If Harry does have feelings for you, and I suspect he does, it would be my guess that he is very uncomfortable with it and would never in a million years acknowledge it to you.”

Draco smirked at her now. “That’s all well and good, Hermione. But I don’t happen to agree with you that he has feelings for me. So we’re back to the beginning, it would seem.”

Hermione smirked back. “Oh? What about how you’re the first person in a room he goes to, even before me and Ron? What about how he prattles on incessantly about you the few times you’re not around? And in case you haven’t noticed, Draco, he has almost as big a female fan club as you do, yet he hasn’t gone out with a single one of them.”

Draco growled. “Yes, I have noticed those silly birds following him everywhere. And what about Luna?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I told you Draco, they’re friends. She likes Ron. One more thing for you to consider, Mr. Malfoy,” she said smugly, “What about the way the two of you sleep together almost every night?”

“We do not!”

“Oh yes you do,” Hermione continued. “I wake the two of you up almost every morning, Draco. Together. On that couch,” she said as she pointed towards the common room, “And not always at opposite ends, I might add. Did you never find that strange?”

Draco thought about this for a moment, then shrugged. “I just thought he got cold while he was sleeping and snuggled up to get warm.”

Ron was grinning again. “You guys have been snuggling on the common room couch?” He snickered.

Draco gave him a scathing look and addressed Hermione. “Do you really think he might like me?”

Hermione smiled at the hopefulness in his voice. “I think it’s very possible Draco. But you have to tell him. I don’t mean beat around the bush like, but really tell him. Harry’s a bit thick when it comes to this sort of thing. You have to kind of hit him over the head with it. Otherwise, it’s never going to be resolved.”

Ron snickered again. “You might want to wait a bit before you hit him over the head with it, Malfoy. That might be a bit too shocking for him, even if he does like you.”

“Shut up!” both Hermione and Draco yelled. Ron fell silent, but just barely. He was suppressing a mad laugh.

“Well, I mean, what do I say? He won’t be back until really late tonight, it’s Dumbledore’s night, and he’s always exhausted when he comes back from this lesson. I can’t keep him up with it! I guess maybe tomorrow, after his lesson with-“

“Draco,” Hermione cut him off, “how long have you felt this way about him?”

“Since that day he and I went to Hogsmeade the first time.”

“That’s what, almost three months? I would think that you’d want to get it over with as quickly as possible.” With that, she turned towards Ron. “Our job is done here, I think. What say we get you a shower and have dinner?”

Draco looked terrified. “You’re not going to help me with this? I don’t know what to do!”

“Just do what you feel Draco. It will all work out, you’ll see. This is none of my business.” She grabbed Ron’s hand. “See you later. Good luck.”

Ron extended his unoccupied hand to Draco. Draco took it. “Yes, good luck. Sincerely.” He and Hermione took a few steps before Ron turned back to Draco again. “Oh, and by the way. Not to be clichéd or anything, but if this does work out between the two of you, and you do anything to hurt him Malfoy, anything at all, I will make it my personal mission to cause you as much pain as wizardly possible. I mean that.”

Draco nodded.

“And you might want to put his pajamas away. He may not find the fact that you were up here sniffing his shorts all that, er, sexy.”

Draco, realizing that he had been clutching Harry’s shirt the entire time, hurled it at Ron. “I say again, fuck off Weasley!” But he was laughing. It seems all it took to finally make friends with Ron was to admit his feelings for Harry. Draco shook his head and returned Harry’s shirt to his trunk. Smiling vaguely despite his worry about how he was going to handle this, he left the Gryffindor Tower and made his way to his own dorm.

Chapter Text

Draco found that the hours were passing far too quickly. While usually very quiet, the Slytherin dormitory seemed to have erupted this evening, requiring much of Draco’s time and attention. For once, he sorely hated being a prefect.

First, there had been two third years making out in the boys dormitory. It was fairly common for girls to sneak into the boy’s dorms for a quick make-out session in their later years at Hogwarts, but the situation was very strictly monitored up to year four. Draco had been informed by another Slytherin boy who had previously been shunned by the girl in question, and while he would have liked to just blow the whole thing off, the boy had threatened to involve Professor Snape if Draco did not take matters in hand.

Draco surprised the young couple, who were rolling around innocently enough in the boy’s bed, still fully clothed, and began issuing all sorts of threats about writing the couple’s parents and telling Professor Snape. The young girl had left crying, remnants of Draco’s lecture about how pureblood girls were suppose to behave ringing in her ears. The boy didn’t get off any lighter; Draco had lectured him even longer on his role of responsibility as both a pureblood and a Slytherin. After talking to the couple, he had felt a bit hypocritical considering what he was hoping to be doing later in Gryffindor Tower.

At least I’m old enough to be snogging legally, he thought. What was wrong with these kids? Didn’t they know what the Astronomy Tower and Room of Requirement were all about? Draco sighed heavily and returned to his dorm to try and lay out a plan of action that would leave Harry putty in his hands. He had no sooner relaxed at his desk than there was yet another interruption.

Two fourth year boys were fighting over a magical herbs deal gone wrong in the middle of the common room. The use and sale of these mind-altering herbs was strictly forbidden in the wizarding world, (though Draco had experimented with some of them himself at a couple of the secret Slytherin parties he had attended starting year before last) and he had been forced to get Professor Snape involved. Professor Snape had insisted on going to the Headmaster, who retained both of them while deciding what to do with the boys. Both sets of parents had been informed and quickly arrived by floo at the Headmaster’s office.

Much drama ensued. Draco was extremely aggravated by the whole affair-he could not believe that fellow Slytherins had acted in such a stupid manner. Clearly, the younger years were not up to the usual evil Slytherin snuff. An unspoken rule in Slytherin house was that if you were going to be bad, at least do it well, and don’t get caught. In the end, the seller of the herbs had been expelled from the school (the third Slytherin that year), and the buyer had been given detention and forced counseling. It was long time indeed before Draco left the Headmaster’s office and returned to his dorm. He was frantic to think about what he would do when he next saw Harry.

When he returned, he found that almost all of the younger Slytherins were still in the common room, despite the fact that curfew had long since past.

“What is wrong with all of you tonight?” he bellowed, wand waving threateningly, as they scampered off to their respective dormitories. It was now past ten o’clock. He knew that he only had about an hour and a half before Harry would return to the Gryffindor Tower. Now very flustered and full of angst, Draco ran to his dormitory to get ready for the evening ahead.

He dug through his wardrobe trying to decide what to wear. He wanted it to appear that he had not planned the evening, which I haven’t, he thought, very annoyed, so he decided to wear his usual silver-grey silk pajama bottoms and a long sleeved, white cashmere undershirt. It was his usual sleep attire and he knew that he looked wonderful in it. He was always aware of the appreciative glances he received, and this particular combination seemed to be one that drew a lot of them.

“Well,” he said as he checked himself in a full-length mirror, “at least I look devastating.”

He had not been aware that anyone else was in the dorm with him, but he heard a low chuckle from his left. “Who’s there?” he called.

“It’s just me, Malfoy.”

The hangings around the bed parted slightly and Blaise Zabini peered out at Draco.

“Someone’s got a date tonight. Looks like a sleepover. But honestly, Draco, why so nervous?” Blaise teased, wagging his eyebrows. “I can only imagine that the young girl in question is somewhere right now waiting with baited breath for the arrival of the most popular guy in school.”

Draco laughed at him.

“Oh, I don’t know Blaise. I think my good friend Harry Potter might have a few more popularity points than me.”

Draco smiled knowing full well the fracas that would erupt if he and Harry did end up together. They really were the two most sought after boys at Hogwarts.

“Please Draco, people just love him cause they think he’s going to save the world. You have style, charm, and you’re bloody loaded. And you’re a Slytherin! What more could anyone ask for?” Blaise fluttered his eyes and fixed Draco with a dreamy expression. “Why, I just might be falling in love with you myself.”

Draco snickered. “You look oddly like your sister when you do that, Blaise. If I had known she would get so attached to me, I might not have saved her that evening in the hall.”

Blaise snapped back. “You’re her hero Draco, you can’t blame her.” Blaise paused. “Who is it anyway? You haven’t been with anyone this whole year, if the rumours be true. I mean, the only girl I’ve seen you around is that Granger Mudblood, and she’s up Weasley’s ass.”

Draco rounded on him. “Don’t call her a Mudblood. She’s my friend, you know, a very good one.”

Blaise lifted his hands compliantly “Okay, Malfoy, okay. But who is it? I mean, you’re obviously planning on breaking someone’s heart tonight.”

Draco looked back in the mirror. He could see the worry clearly in his own eyes.

“Actually, it may be my heart that gets broken tonight, Blaise.”

Blaise snorted. “Yeah, right. Malfoy’s don’t have hearts. All the inbreeding to keep the bloodlines pure saw to that.”

Draco flipped him off. “I suspect there’s a lot you don’t know about us Malfoys, Blaise. We have very big hearts, thank you. My father was quite a philanthropist, you may recall, and I am sure he will be once again once his name is cleared and he can return.”

Draco flushed. He hadn’t spouted the old Malfoy bullshit in a long time. His nervousness was causing him to fall back on some very old behaviors.

“Of course, Draco. Never mind that your father’s generosity only benefited those that could forward his agenda. Now, go, really, someone must be dying a slow death somewhere.”

Draco didn’t even bother to retort to the comment about his father: it was only too true. Why am I thinking about my father, he chided himself. Checking himself in the mirror again, he lifted a hand to Blaise, who was once again drawing the hangings around his bed, and was off. He tried to shake off the unbidden thoughts of his father, as he had enough on his mind without considering the complicated feelings he had for Lucius Malfoy. His father’s face loomed in his mind, casting a disapproving look on what Draco was about to do. Sod off, he told the stern face, and strode from the Slytherin dungeon. After making sure that no one was following him, he made directly for the Gryffindor common room.

He said the password to the Fat Lady, who still told him every time he came that she did not approve of a Slytherin having the password. He argued with her briefly, and after calling him rude and insolent for the hundredth time, she finally let him in. He almost tumbled down the common room stairs in shock at the sight that greeted him. Sitting on the couch, in his flannel pajamas and a tee shirt, reading a book, was none other than Harry.

Draco gaped. “What?! What are you doing here?” he sputtered.

Harry grinned and lowered his book. “Well, lovely to see you too. I begged off lessons with Dumbledore tonight. I’m exhausted.”

Harry patted the couch next to him. “Join me? I feel like I haven’t spent any real time with you in weeks.”

Harry curled up tighter into the corner to make room for Draco to sit.

“I miss you at Quidditch. I’ve no one to show off for anymore.”

Draco grinned. He was reading a lot more into Harry’s words and actions than he usually would have, for one thing, and being around Harry always made him feel a bit punch drunk. Please be right Hermione, he thought to himself. He turned and leaned back against Harry, who in turn, put one leg around Draco so that he could put his whole back against Harry’s chest. They frequently sat this way and Draco never thought it unusual until now. After the conversation with Ron and Hermione this afternoon, he wasn’t so sure.

They were very close like this. He could feel the warmth of Harry’s breathing as it ruffled through his hair they were so close. He smirked evilly thinking that seducing Harry was going to be a breeze. Even though he was a big, brave Gryffindor he was a remarkable pushover as well.

Draco’s smirk faltered suddenly. This wasn’t like convincing some girl to give him a quick pull underneath the Quidditch stands, or a quick roll around the Astronomy Tower floor. He loved Harry and wanted a relationship with him, not just a quick shag. He leaned back more heavily against Harry’s chest and gave some real thought about how to best go about this.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry’s hand was resting on the couch beside Draco, and the other was back behind his head. His eyes were closed and the expression on his face was blissful. This was heaven for him. Draco’s weight against him was reassuring and comfortable. When he moved his head even the slightest, Draco’s silky hair brushed against his neck. Harry could smell the scent of amber and vanilla wafting off the Slytherin and it made him smile. Harry was starting to wonder if Draco sweated vanilla.

Draco was stroking Harry’s hand very softly. The Gryffindor just sighed and stayed relaxed, afraid to open his eyes. He was quite sure he would stare a hole through Draco if he did. He knew Draco had no idea, but the sight of the Slytherin in his pajamas drove Harry to utter distraction. Thinking about the way he had looked when he entered the common room tonight, Harry found that he was consciously willing himself to not get an erection. He was pretty sure Draco would not be happy if he suddenly began poking him in the back.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“What did you do today?” Draco said, somewhat accusingly, thinking of Luna Lovegood. His confidence was waning by the minute.

“Just classes and Quidditch practice. I hate to say it, but I will be glad when this season is over. I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired in my life. I hung out with Dumbledore for a little bit, but then I came straight back here. I was hoping you’d be here, but Ron and Hermione said that you had left about two hours earlier. I went looking for you down at Slytherin, but the gits wouldn’t let me in, so I figured you weren’t there. Where were you?”

Draco recounted his evening for Harry. They were falling into their comfortable routine of catching up on each others day as they laid amicably sprawled on the couch. Draco almost forgot what he had come to do.

“So, um, you talked to Ron and Hermione?” Draco said. He found himself secretly hoping that they had given Harry some clue about their afternoon chat.

“Yeah, for a minute,” Harry said, with the slightest bit of hurt in his voice, “They were here, but seemed very anxious to get to bed for some reason.”

Draco chuckled throatily. “What could that reason be, I wonder?” Clearing out for me, were they? Prats!

“What do you mean?” said Harry. Draco noticed that Harry had started to absent-mindedly run his free hand through his hair. That’s encouraging, he thought to himself.

“Oh, gee Harry, I don’t know. Think about it.” Draco was getting very relaxed and almost sleepy.

“Ugh, Draco, stop. That’s like imagining Mr. and Mrs. Weasley having sex or something. Honestly.”

Draco grinned and rolled over to face Harry, causing Harry to shift uncomfortably. Draco’s taut stomach was now pressed firmly against his crotch and his breathing was started to quicken despite his efforts to keep it at a normal pace. It was very warm and dark in the room, as the fire was the only light, and as Draco gazed up at Harry, he could see the flames reflected in those clear, light grey eyes.

“Have you ever had sex before Harry?” Draco asked.

“Uh, um, no, I haven’t. Shit, I’ve only ever kissed Cho Chang. I guess I’ve been too busy.”

Draco didn’t have to see Harry to know that he was blushing. He pressed himself harder into Harry’s body. Harry shifted again, trying in vain to get Draco’s weight off his groin.

“Is there anyone you like now?” Draco asked, using his weight to keep the squirmy Gryffindor still. Harry’s eyes widened and for a second, Draco’s confidence waned again as flashes of Luna ran through his mind.

If possible, Harry blushed harder. He had unconsciously intertwined his hand with Draco’s hand to stop that maddening stroking and was now pressing his palm against Draco’s to try and gain some leverage. Draco was pretty sure he had no idea that he had done this.

“Yeah, actually, there is, but I don’t want to talk about it.” Harry regretted having said this at once. He knew Draco would not let it go that easily.

Draco squeezed the hand that was holding his, which startled Harry into realization. Harry yanked his hand away.

“Uh, sorry. You were tickling me.” Draco was gazing up at Harry with an expression that Harry didn’t recognize, but found very alluring. His eyes seemed to have taken on a very smoky quality.

Draco laid his head down on Harry’s chest and could hear that his heart was pounding. He took a deep breath and decided it was now or never.

Draco slid one hand under Harry’s tee shirt and began running it back and forth along Harry’s chest. Harry stopped breathing.

“How do you feel about me, Harry?”

Harry’s wasn’t sure what, exactly, was happening. He found that he was having trouble thinking clearly. For a moment he considered that he might actually be dreaming, but then he felt himself losing the battle against his erection. He tried again to shift away from Draco. Draco only pressed himself tighter to Harry.

“I, um, I like you a lot, Draco.” Harry was alarmed to hear a breathless quality in his voice.

Draco dragged his hand downward so that he was now touching Harry’s stomach.

“Why are you wiggling so, Harry? Are you trying to get away? You don’t seem like you want to go,” Draco said in a quiet voice as he pressed himself down into Harry, acknowledging Harry’s arousal. “I certainly don’t want you to go.”

Harry was breathing hard now and the delicious pressure Draco was applying was making it more and more difficult to think.

“Draco, what are you playing at?” he breathed.

Draco lifted his head and looked Harry in the eyes, where even in the wan light of the fire desire and confusion were putting up quite a show. He removed his hand from Harry’s stomach and began stroking his face. He pulled himself up so that their mouths were only inches apart. He, too, had become aroused, and positioned himself so that Harry would know it.

“I’m not playing, Harry. I’ve waited far longer than I ever thought I would have waited for something I want this badly. What about you? What do you want?” He continued to stroke Harry’s face, and hoped that the love he was feeling showed on his face.

Harry cautiously put his arms around Draco’s waist, his hands coming to rest on the small of Draco’s back. He was not blushing anymore, but looking into Draco’s eyes intently.

“Why are you doing this, Draco?” his voice sounded a bit guarded.

“Because, Harry, I’ve been in love with you for some time now.” Draco stopped and seemed to think. “Actually, in all honesty, I think that I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you. I was just too young to know it. But I’m not now. I’ve known since that night when we first kissed. Do you remember?”

Harry smiled and seemed to relax a bit. He leaned over and brushed his lips against Draco’s. They both shivered.

“Yeah, I remember. I thought you would hate me forever.”

“Why would I hate you?”

“Because Draco, I’m a guy. Guys don’t kiss guys.”

Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry firmly, teasing his lips open with little flickers of his tongue. Harry moaned into the kiss. Draco pulled away and smiled up at Harry.

“Oh, I don’t see why not. I find this rather enjoyable,” he whispered.

Harry was shaking and his breath was coming out even harder. He just stared at Draco, unable to speak.

Draco ran his hand up Harry’s face into his messy hair. It was the first time he had touched Harry’s hair, and was amazed that something so unruly could feel so soft.

“I love you hair, Harry. It’s so adorable. You always look like you’ve just had the shag of your life.”

Draco was smiling gently at Harry, whose eyes were almost comically wide. “You never answered my question though. How do you feel about me?”

Harry’s hand flew off of Draco’s back and grabbed the back of his head. He pushed Draco’s mouth to his and kissed him hard. It was Draco’s turn to stop breathing. Harry’s mouth was soft and warm, and he tasted like pumpkin juice. Draco returned the kiss with vigor.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry’s head was swimming. Draco tasted like heaven, mint and vanilla, and his warm, sweet smell was all around him. Strands of his long hair were falling on Harry’s face and hands, it’s softness in direct, tantalizing contrast to the hardness of Draco’s body.

Suddenly, their hands were everywhere, and every touch sent a shiver of pleasure through Harry’s body the likes of which he had never known. It was if he had been starving his whole life, and he had finally found the only food that would ever quench his hunger. He never wanted this to end, but he had to answer Draco’s question. He pulled away.

“I love you, too, Draco. Since that day we went to Hogsmeade, I’ve been in love with you. I was scared, more scared than I’ve ever been. I really thought you’d hate me if you ever found out.”

Draco cut him off with another kiss, but Harry pulled away. Draco moaned in protest.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Harry asked as he stared at the blonde.

“I thought you’d hate me, too,” Draco said with a smile. “Gods, but we are idiots. We could have been shagging for months.” Draco grinned, his relief so great he felt as if he would float away were it not for Harry holding on to him.

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, still exploring each other with their hands.

Draco leaned over and licked along Harry’s top lip. “You’re sweating, Harry,” he whispered.

Harry kissed him so hard that it almost hurt. Draco found that he very much liked it.

“Potter, I had no idea that you might want to play rough,” he teased.

Harry’s eyes had fallen to half-mast and his lips were parted slightly.

“We’d better go upstairs Draco. I don’t think this couch is going to hold us,” he growled.

They had somehow managed to make it to Harry’s bed through all the kissing and fumbling with clothes. By the time they were enclosed by the magically sealed hangings, they had both lost their shirts along the way and were now tugging frantically at each other’s pajama bottoms.

Harry achieved his goal first, and eyed Draco’s naked form hungrily.

“You are even more perfect than I imagined,” he breathed as he laid himself down on top of Draco. He kissed Draco’s cheek almost chastely, then, all his bravado gone, whispered in his ear. “Draco, I want you so badly, but you do realize I have no idea what to do.”

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and smiled. Surely it wasn’t possible for anyone to be this adorable.

“Didn’t you just say you had imagined me like this?” He pulled Harry’s face up so they could see one another. Harry sat back on Draco’s stomach and looked down at him.

“Well, yeah, I imagined,” Harry was blushing furiously again. Draco was utterly enamored. “But that doesn’t mean I have any idea how to do the stuff I imagined.” He was running his fingers lightly over Draco’s stomach, causing Draco to shiver. “I like it very much when you do that,” Harry said seriously.

Draco smiled at him. “I’d like it very much if I weren’t the only one naked in this bed.”

Harry rolled sideways and lay on his back. He started to remove his pajama pants when Draco stopped him.

“No, no, no. Let me.”

Draco leaned over Harry and slid his hands down either side of his hips. Sitting up as he made downward progress, he removed Harry’s pants, running his hands down his legs as he did so. Harry moaned softly.

“How many times have you done this?” he asked Draco breathlessly.

“Lots, Harry, but never with a guy. So I guess we’re both virgins, in a way.”

“Yeah, except I’m the only one who almost comes every time he gets touched,” Harry laughed.

Draco crawled over and nudged Harry’s knees apart with his own, then laid down on top of him. Harry’s eyes went misty again, much to Draco’s delight. Draco kissed his eyebrows, his forehead, his lips, his chin and each cheek. He moved down his neck, sucking the soft spot by his ear, and nibbled gently on his collarbones. Harry moaned loudly, and ran his hands up and down Draco’s back, digging in when Draco hit a particularly sensitive spot.

Draco continued down, spending time on each of Harry’s nipples, which made Harry shiver and quake, and moved down to his stomach and hipbones, alternately dragging his lips across each and nibbling a bit harder than before. Harry arched into Draco’s lips. He seemed completely incapable of coherent speech. Draco moved down lower, and took Harry’s arousal in a tight grip. Harry sat up sharply.

“What are you doing?” he gasped.

“You just try not to come too fast,” he smirked, as he engulfed Harry with his mouth.

Harry held out longer than either of them would have believed. After Draco had finished his ministrations, Harry had returned the favor, using Draco’s actions as a guide. After it was over, the two boys lay with their limbs entwined, staring into each other’s eyes.

Draco watched as Harry started to drift off. He had never felt so comfortable with anyone in his life. Closeness usually made him highly agitated, but he felt an indescribable calm being with Harry. He reached out and brushed Harry’s fringe off his forehead. Harry opened his eyes.

“That was the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me,” he whispered to Draco.

“I second that,” Draco replied.

Harry smiled shyly. “I wasn’t horrible, was I?”

Draco kissed him gently. “I think we’ve found something that you’re more of a natural at than Quidditch, my love.”

Draco meant it. Harry had proceeded with a confidence and intuition that had taken Draco somewhat off guard.

Harry blushed again and sighed. “You know, Dumbledore asked about you tonight. Did you get a chance to talk to him while you were at his office?”

“Only for a moment. I was more concerned with getting back to my room and planning out my seduction of one Harry James Potter.”

Harry lifted his head and looked down at Draco in shock. “You planned this? You are so bloody evil! How could you-“

Draco laughed and put his fingers to Harry’s lips. “I didn’t plan anything. Do you not remember anything I told you about my night? I was going to come here and wait for you and think about it then, but you ruined everything by skiving off your lesson. I couldn’t have planned anything as wonderful as this night has been, anyway.”

Harry lay back down. “You and Dumbledore are close now, aren’t you?” Draco noted the approval in his voice.

“Why do you say that?”

“He just seemed very affectionate when he asked me about you.”

Draco shifted and looked up at the Gryffindor lion above him.

“We got pretty close this summer. He helped me quite a bit with the whole thing with my parents. I mean, I’m in his custody. I live with him until further notice,” Draco sighed heavily. “This is the first year in a while that I haven’t spent Christmas at Malfoy Manor. I guess I’ll be spending it with Dumbledore.” He sighed heavily again, hoping Harry would take the bait.

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” Harry said sharply. “You’re coming with me to the Burrow. There’s no way I’m spending three weeks without you.”

Draco smiled; he always got his way.

“Harry, you are too easy.” Draco chuckled at the confusion on Harry’s face. He had no idea he’d just been manipulated. “Do you think they’ll let me stay with you? I mean, the last time I saw them, my father tried to beat up Arthur Weasley. We could always stay here over holidays.”

Harry shook his head. “Mum Weasley would go ballistic. I’ll owl them tomorrow. They’ve known for a while that we’re friends,” Harry smiled as he recalled the many letters from Mrs. Weasley admonishing him to be careful of ‘that Malfoy boy’, “so I don’t think she’ll be too shocked when I ask her if you can stay. She’s really quite generous.”

Draco looked back at Harry. “It might be a quite bigger deal when she finds out we’re not just friends anymore, you know.”

Harry rolled on his back and sighed. “I hadn’t thought about that. Should we tell people right away?” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh shit, what is Ron going to say?”

Draco snickered. “Who knows Harry, Ron may surprise you. And I’m telling everyone who will listen, straight away. I can’t wait to see all the little girls crying when they find out you’re no longer available.”

Harry turned to him. “More like when they find out you’re not available. Which are most definitely not.” Harry kissed him again.

“You’re fine with telling everyone, then?” Draco said, a challenge in his voice.

Harry propped himself up on one elbow and looked Draco in the eye. “I’ve never been ashamed of who I am or of anything I’ve done,” except getting Sirius killed, he thought, “and I see no reason to be ashamed of this. My boyfriend is the most beautiful boy on earth, after all. Who wouldn’t be proud?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “You are such a git, Harry. Stop being so cheesy.” Secretly, Draco loved it.

Harry pulled him closer to him. “I’m being romantic, you dolt. But now I’m tired. You spent me.” He yawned and rested his head on Draco’s chest. “You won’t leave, will you?” His voice had grown sleepy in a second.

Draco stroked his hair. “Harry, why do you think I’ve been sleeping on that stupid couch downstairs? No, I won’t leave. Idiot.”

“I love you, you brat,” Harry mumbled.

Draco kissed his forehead. “I love you, too.” Harry was so cute, he couldn’t even bring himself to make a comeback to the brat remark.

Harry curled himself tighter against Draco and was soon out cold. It was not long before Draco followed suit.

Chapter Text

From what seemed like a long way away, Harry heard someone pull back the hangings around his bed. He grumbled and buried his head in the space between Draco’s arm and his chest, and happily tried to get back to some deeper sleep. Draco was warm, and he smelled good, and it was far too early to get up yet. It had been a long night, after all, and this morning had come far too soon. Harry wasn’t really a morning person anyway.

“Well, well.” It was Ron. This upset Harry very much, but he was too tired to think why. Again he grumbled. There was no reason for him to be upset that Ron was here. Ron had woken him up just this way on numerous occasions.

Harry heard Ron laugh. “So, it seems that, once again, Hermione knew what she was talking about, eh Draco?”

“Yes, yes, Weasley, thankfully she was right. Now go away. He’s trying to sleep.” That was Draco’s voice, whispering to Ron. His hand was rubbing Harry’s back in a warm and affectionate way, and his fingers occasionally brushed the fringe from his forehead. Harry smiled and sighed.

“Wore him out in the first round, did you Malfoy?” Ron sounded terribly amused.

At this, the alarm bells in Harry’s mind finally begin to sound. There was, in fact, something wrong with this scene. Sleepily, he began to put the pieces together.

Draco. Ron. Harry’s bed. Draco. Harry. Together. In Harry’s bed. Ron.

Harry’s eyes flew open. He bolted upright in the bed. “Ron!” he cried, thoroughly distressed. Finding he and Draco in bed together in a very obvious situation was not how he would have had Ron find out about the new developments in the Potter/Malfoy relationship.

“Morning glory,” Ron said with a wide grin. “How was it?” he asked snidely, looking deviously from Harry to Draco.

Not only was Harry suddenly very embarrassed by the meaning behind Ron’s question, he was also lost in confusion. This was Ron, who still almost hated Draco even though he and Hermione had made peace with the Slytherin months ago. This was his best friend, who was, to Harry’s knowledge, a raging heterosexual who’d never looked at another male in a remotely sexual way, looking down on him and his new boyfriend in Harry’s very used and messy bed. Why wasn’t he freaking out?

“Um, I’m not sure what you mean, Ron.” Harry said, trying to sound casual and pulling himself away from Draco just a bit.

Draco smiled and starting stroking Harry’s back again. “He knows, love. That’s why he and Hermione went to bed so early last night. They knew I was coming to…. well, whatever. We all talked about it yesterday afternoon.”
“Yeah, when you were sniffing his pajamas,” snorted Ron. Draco looked murderous.

Harry filed that comment about the pajama sniffing away for later use; he looked from Ron to Draco. “So everyone knew about this but me? You all planned this? Sneaky, guys, very sneaky.” He was trying to look put out, but could not help smiling too. He looked sheepishly at Ron. “You’re not, I mean, you’re cool with this?”

Ron’s grin broadened. “Oh, sure. I think it’s great.” He considered Draco for a moment. “He’s almost pretty enough to be a girl, anyway, so what’s the big deal?” Draco glowered at him. “Besides, now I can torture the two of you about your sex life, the way you’ve been hounding me about mine.”

Without hesitation, Draco pulled Harry back against him, wrapped his arms around him and began running his hands sensuously over his bare chest. Lowering his voice a bit, he asked Ron “What do you want to know first, Weasley? Or would you rather watch? I could kiss him for you….all over.” Draco began kissing Harry’s neck. Harry did not stop him.

Ron went from white to red at warp speed. “Gods Malfoy, you are a monster. He’s my best friend, I don’t want to see him like that, ever, with anyone. Now, stop it. You’re disgusting.”

Pulling away from Harry’s neck, Draco shot him a smug smile. “Well, don’t play games with the master, Weasley, for you will always lose.” Harry relaxed and leaned fully on Draco, who had stopped rubbing him and was just holding him lightly instead. Ron seemed most relieved.

They heard footsteps, and Hermione appeared at Ron’s side. She covered her mouth with her hands and squealed in delight at the sight of Harry and Draco.

“It worked! I told you, Draco! I knew he liked you. Did you guys-“ she cut herself off and look mortified at what she had been about to ask “um, well I mean, you look like you’re, um, very, um…. “ stammered Hermione, now also blushing furiously.

Harry reached up behind him and put his arms around Draco’s neck. He was the picture of relief and happiness. Both of his best friends were standing by his bed, looking at him and his new boyfriend lying there, obviously naked under the sheets, and they were truly happy for him. He wondered briefly how he could have thought they’d be anything else. They really are the two greatest people on earth, he thought to himself. All this love and happiness was making him feel a bit mischievous, however. He grinned wickedly.

“Maybe she wants to watch,” he said lustily to Draco. Draco immediately began running his hands across Harry’s chest again.

“Stop it! Stop it! I’m happy for you, really I am, but I don’t want to watch anything!” It was one of the few times Hermione had ever lied to Harry. Seeing her two friends lying in bed together, touching each other in such a familiar, seductive way was the most beautifully erotic thing she had ever seen. She would have been more than happy to stay and watch whatever they had wanted to show her.

Draco pouted at them and kissed Harry innocently on the top of his head. “We’ll have to go down to the Slytherin dorm if we’re to put on a show. The people here are prudes, love.” Ron rolled his eyes and Hermione continued to stare, but everyone was smiling.

“Are you guys coming down to breakfast?” Hermione asked, breaking the moment. “It’s going to be a very interesting to see how people react when you two go public. Or are you going to keep it secret for a while?”

Harry sat up and started reaching around the bed for his pants with one hand, and waving dismissively with the other. “No, no, it’s too much bother. I’m not very good at hiding things anyway.” The other three snorted in agreement. Harry gave them a stern squint, and went about rustling on the ground for his pants.. “Besides, Draco wants to make all the girls cry. You know how mean he is.” Sitting back in frustration, he said “Does anyone see my pants? And my glasses? I’m bloody blind, you know.”

Draco retrieved his glasses from the nightstand with a roll of his eyes and handed them over. Ron reached down by the bed and gingerly handed Harry his pants. Harry smirked at him and yanked them away. “They’re clean, you git. Nothing happened until they came off.” Ron reddened again, and Hermione smiled blissfully.

“You two make a beautiful couple, really. Don’t they Ron?” she said.

Ron covered his mouth and made a retching noise. Draco threw one of Harry’s pillows at him.

Harry slid his pants on under the covers and looked at Draco. “Want to take a shower with me?”

Ron looked affronted. “Harry! I didn’t give you the password to the Prefect’s bathroom so that you could shag your boyfriend in there!”

At the mention of actual shagging, Harry produced a blush almost equal to Ron’s own. Draco was unmoved, as usual. “We’re not shagging yet, Ron, so you needn’t worry just now.” He yawned languidly.

If possible, both Ron and Harry blushed even more.

Hermione snickered at their reactions. “You two are so juvenile,” she said to Harry and Ron. She took Ron’s hand and began to gently pull him away. “Come on Ron, we need to get to breakfast. See you two later?” she asked Harry and Draco. They both nodded.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Ron muttered to Hermione under his breath as they left the boy’s dorm. They both looked back at Harry and Draco and laughed.

Harry looked at Draco. “What are they laughing at? And what did you mean?”

Draco burrowed down in the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. “What?”

“When you said ‘We’re not shagging yet’. Does that mean we’re going to?”

Draco closed his eyes and smiled. “Eventually, yes. I’m not easy, you know Harry.”

Harry’s blush resurfaced as he stared at Draco curled up in his bed. The things he was thinking at the moment were, indeed, very blush worthy. Shaking his head clear, he stood from the bed. “Are you coming with me? To shower?”

Draco pulled the covers over his face. “No. I don’t want to get up. I’m not ready to enter the real world again just now.” He pulled the blankets down a bit and looked at Harry. “Why don’t you go bring us up some breakfast and we can have it here in bed?” His voice was somewhat lower than usual, and his eyes had turned smoky again.

Harry had grown very fond of that look in only a night. Heat began spreading through his body. He looked seductively at his boyfriend. “So this is how it’s going to be, is it? You think we can just stay in bed all the time?”

“Yes. Problem?” Draco purred.

“Not at all. I’ll be right back.” Harry pulled on a sweater, and still in his pajama bottoms, made quickly for the Great Hall.

Draco waited until he was sure he was alone, then let out some pent up emotions. It would be years before he would feel comfortable letting his real feelings show in front of others, even Harry. Now, safe that no one was watching him, he grabbed one of Harry’s pillows and hugged it tightly. He rolled back and forth, from one side of the bed to the other, pulling the sheets and blankets to and fro, a gleeful smile on his face and a low giggle coming from his lips. He was so incredibly happy, he felt like he might cry.

At that moment, a loud tapping came from one of the windows in the dorm. Draco, startled, sat upright and looked for the source of the noise.

It was a large, wicked looking black bird with a letter in its hooked, yellow beak. It seemed to be staring directly at Draco as it tapped madly on the glass.

Fear shot through Draco’s body. He got up slowly from the bed, blanket wrapped around him and trailing on the floor behind as he walked to the window. When he reached it, he made to open it, but hesitated. He and the bird seemed to stare at each other in challenge, then the bird broke the still by letting out a loud squawk. Draco jumped, and reaching forward again, unlatched the window. The bird flew in and dropped the letter at his feet, then flew out again in one sweeping arch. The only indication that it had even been there was that the letter now laid upside down on the cold, stone floor.

Draco stood trembling, staring down at the letter for a full minute. Who would be sending him a letter here, in Gryffindor Tower? His stomach had turned to lead. He had an idea who the author might be, but he hoped with all his being that he was wrong. Maybe the bird had just gotten the wrong person; it wasn’t an owl, after all. Finally, gathering all his courage, he reached down and picked it up.

It was written on non-descript grey parchment and sealed with unadorned black wax. Draco closed his eyes as he turned the letter over in his hands, feeling the coarseness of the paper. When at last he opened his eyes again, the letter was face up in his hand, and he saw the thing he had feared most.

His initials, DLM, were written on the front of the letter. In his father’s hand.

Draco was shaking badly. He made his way back to Harry’s bed and sat on its edge, still staring blankly at the letter from his father. He wanted to rip it into a thousand pieces and throw them out the window, letting them fall to the ground like snow. He wanted to hold it next to his heart and see if he could feel his father’s presence at all. Jumbled thoughts careened through his mind. He ran his thumb in circles around the black wax seal, then lifted the letter to his nose and inhaled. He told himself that he could smell his father there. He shuddered.

He did not notice that the tracking bracelet he wore had started to glow.

He knows, oh gods, he knows, Draco thought over and over. It seemed like the only possible explanation for receiving this letter at this moment. His father had a spy at Hogwarts, and that spy had told him about his son’s relationship with Harry. Draco’s mouth was dry and his head was spinning. He’d lived his whole life in abject terror of his father’s wrath, and was now convinced he was about to receive it via this bit of parchment.

Shaking almost uncontrollably and barely drawing breath, he opened the letter.

Dearest Draco,

I must first apologize for abandoning you without a word. Unfortunately, things did not go as planned the night I escaped, and your mother and I were unable to return to the Manor and collect you. I assure you that neither of us would have ever willingly left you alone and unprotected.. You have been uppermost in our minds since that night.

Also, I apologize for not contacting you sooner. Things have been difficult for your mother and I, and it is only now that it is safe for us to chance a correspondence. We are, as you know, in hiding with the Dark Lord, therefore, it is imperative that this letter not fall into the wrong hands. There are powerful protective spells on it, but please do be cautious of the company you are in when you review this letter.

While we had expected some sort of backlash after our disappearance, your mother and I were still horrified to hear of your treatment at the hands of Ministry officials after our departure. I assure you, the situation has not gone unnoticed by the Dark Lord, and all guilty parties will be accounted for. I am sure you did the best you could in a vile situation, and I am pleased that you managed to gain release from the authorities, and are safely back at school. The Dark Lord is most interested to speak with you concerning your brief incarceration.

I must be brief, and cannot give you any details, but trust me when I say that your mother and I have been keeping a watchful eye over you, and we are much closer than you think. We are making plans, even now, to reunite with you. Your mother, especially, misses you terribly, and looks forward to seeing you again.

Do remember who you are, my son.

Yours always,
LBM

Draco hissed and used one hand to rub the skin under the bracelet on his wrist, as it was now positively burning. He looked at it and noticed that a small blister had started to form.

At that moment, Professors Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin and McGonagall rushed into the boy’s dormitory.

Harry was piling a plate high with muffins and jellies to take back to Draco. Ron and Hermione were giving him some good-natured ribbing, along with his other roommates who now knew the news, but he was in too big of a hurry to banter. He bade them all good morning and left the Great Hall for Gryffindor Tower.

As he reached the stairway that led to the Tower, he saw Professors Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin, and McGonagall sweeping up the stairs ahead of him, moving quickly and with purpose. He immediately dropped the plate he was holding. There was only one person they could be going after in Gryffindor Tower with that much intent: Draco. He sprinted catlike up the stairs behind them.

“Draco,” Professor Dumbledore said quietly, watching the boy rub the painful spot on his wrist, “let go of the letter from your father and the device will stop burning you.” He held his hand out to receive the letter.

Draco looked at the Headmaster, who was gazing at him with an immensely kind expression, but he did not turn over the letter. It was the first he’d heard from his father in almost five months. While receiving it had frightened him, he was not willing to let it go just yet. He began to scan over it again, trying to hold the bracelet off his wrist with two free fingers.

As Dumbledore stood with his hand outstretched, Harry ran into the room. “Draco!” he cried as he pushed past Professors Snape and Lupin, making his way to Draco. “Harry!” Professor McGonagall seemed to answer, as he came to rest on his knees before the shivering blonde boy.

Draco was still re-reading the letter. His eyes were flat and he had a faraway look. He was shaking as if the Tower were outdoors in winter. Harry got up and sat next to him on the bed, and put his arm around his shoulders. Noticing the blister on his wrist, Harry tried to push some of the sheet between the bracelet and Draco’s skin. Draco sighed with relief.

“What is it Draco? Can I see?”

Draco, moving mechanically, handed the letter to Harry. As soon as it left his hands and entered Harry’s two things happened simultaneously: the letter burst into violent, red flames, burning Harry’s fingertips, and the bracelet around Draco’s wrist went cool.

Harry yelped and held his hand out in front of him, the tips had started to blister and blacken immediately. Lupin stepped forward and pointed his wand at them and said “Frigus”. A small cloud of crystals flew from the wand and enveloped Harry fingertips, causing them to heal instantaneously.

“Thanks,” Harry muttered quickly, then turned his attention to Draco. The four Professors listened intently.

“Was that from your father?” Draco shook his head in affirmation. “What did it say?” Harry was stroking Draco’s face and hair, trying vainly to comfort him.

“He knows, Harry. He knows.” Draco’s eyes were wide with fear as he spoke to Harry.

Dumbledore stepped closer to the two boys sitting on the bed. Harry looked at him appreciatively. He was completely unnerved by what Draco had said. “Knows what, Draco? About your relationship with Harry? Is that what the letter was about?” the Headmaster asked kindly.

Draco shook his head yes, then no. “He didn’t say that specifically, but why else would he write now, after what happened last night?” He looked wildly at Harry. “He’ll kill us both, you know. He won’t stand for this.” His voice was strained with fear. Harry took Draco’s hands and held them tightly. He started to speak, but was cut off by Dumbledore.

“Draco, we are going to leave you and Harry alone for a bit. I can see that you are very upset, and I want you to calm down a bit and try to digest what has just occurred. Perhaps you can discuss the implications of what was in that letter, and when you are feeling better, I want the two of you to come to my office. Will you do that for me, Draco?”

Draco shook his head firmly and wrapped the blanket more tightly around him. Harry put both arms around him now, and drew him into a tight embrace. Draco rested his head on Harry’s shoulder, hiding his face from the teachers. Harry was watching Dumbledore, who was looking at the two of them with affection. Harry smiled slightly, and Dumbledore returned it. Dumbledore then turned to Professor Snape and Harry followed his gaze. It was only then that he noticed that Snape was staring at he and Draco with a look of complete horror. Anger rose in him like a wave.

“Why are you staring at us like that?” Harry demanded of the Potions Master.

Snape’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Harry as if he’d like to murder him. “What have you done to him? I hope it’s not what I’m thinking, Potter, because if it is, I’m afraid he is right. His father will not rest until you both are dead. He would not allow such a mark against the Malfoy name to survive. After all, Mr. Potter, there is only one person I can think of that wants you dead as badly as the Dark Lord does, and that is Lucius Malfoy.” Draco had turned slightly and was now watching Professor Snape. Snape regarded them coldly, then began speaking to Harry again. “Are you endlessly stupid, Potter? Are you hopelessly selfish? Is there no one you will not endanger?”

Harry was up like a flash, wand drawn and pointing at Professor Snape. There was an energy shift in the room as Harry advanced on the Potions Master. His eyes glowed like neon lamps, and his hair and clothing seemed to be shifting in a soft breeze. Lupin and Dumbledore immediately stepped in front of Professor Snape and without so much as exchanging a quick glance, they pointed their wands at Harry and yelled “Expelliarmus!”.

Harry was pushed gently backward and felt his wand trying to pull from his hand. He could feel the spell moving through his body, forming a ball of energy, and then moving up and pushing back out of him through the top of his head. A bright light emanated from all around him, formed into two thick rays, and hit Lupin and Dumbledore in their chests. Lupin was knocked down and his wand flew to Harry, who caught it deftly in his free hand. Dumbledore was unmoved, though his hair and robes were blown back. In a moment, the whole thing was over, and the room returned to normal.

“Harry, please lower your wand. I will not allow you to harm Professor Snape. I understand that you are very angry at the moment, and very frightened by what Professor Snape has said to you, but I will have to hex you if you advance on him any further.” Dumbledore’s gentle tone did not match his words.

Harry’s vision was blurred by sweat running into his eyes. He stood his ground for a moment more before finally lowering his wand. He staggered sideways, but only slightly. He leaned over and rested his hands on his bent knees to steady himself. He looked up, panting, and once more locked eyes with Professor Snape.

“I would never do anything to hurt him. Never. And I will never let anyone, not his father, not Voldemort, not anyone, hurt him either.” He was glaring at Snape, who had gone pale with shock. Harry stood, swayed a bit, and looked at Dumbledore. “I’m sorry, Professor.” Harry reached down and extended his hand to Professor Lupin, who took it, and helped him to his feet, though he seemed barely able to stand himself. Once upright, Lupin put his hand on Harry’s arm in support. Harry returned his wand to him, and once again leaned forward on his knees. He looked up at Lupin with concern. “Are you all right?” he asked sheepishly.

Lupin, however, looked at Harry with excitement in his eyes. He quickly looked at Dumbledore. “Did you see that?” he said, pointing to Harry, who had begun to slowly make his way back to Draco. “He did it. He pushed it back on us!” he turned to Harry again. “Do you know how you did that? Were you in control of it at all?”

Harry shook his head and sat down next to Draco, who was staring at him like he had never seen him before. Harry wearily leaned his head on the other boy’s shoulder. Draco leaned over and whispered in his ear, and Harry nodded. The professors continued to stare.

Both Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall opened their mouths to speak, but Dumbledore lifted his hand to silence them. “Not now, you two. I am sure Harry is now a bit tired, and Mr. Malfoy needs some time to collect his thoughts. We’ll talk to both of them a bit later. Draco, Harry,” he said addressing the two, “you are excused from classes today, but I still expect to see you in my office to discuss this matter before lunch. Do you need to go to the hospital wing, Harry?” Again, Harry shook his head. Dumbledore turned to Professor Snape. “Please make Mr. Malfoy a Verbatim Draught, Severus, and drop it off in my office. We need to know the exact contents of that letter.” He drew close to the Potions Master and said softly, “I will speak to Harry privately about this incidence, rest assured.”

Snape made to protest again, but stopped at the look on the Headmaster’s face. McGonagall and Lupin were still staring in awe at Harry, who was none the wiser since his forehead was resting on Draco’s shoulder and his eyes were closed. Snape mustered his most disgusted look and swept from the boy’s dorm without a word.

“Come Remus, Minerva. They will come see me when they are ready.”

Lupin turned to the Headmaster and nodded, his eyes gleaming, and they made their way to the dormitory stairs.. Professor McGonagall followed as well. Some of the Gryffindor’s were making their way back to the Tower from breakfast, and were startled to see so many Professors leaving the boy’s dorm. When they questioned the teachers, McGonagall simply admonished them all to not be so nosy, and the three adults made the rest of their way across the common room unhindered.

When they reached the corridor, however, both Lupin and McGonagall began questioning the Headmaster.

“How was he finally able to do that, do you think?” Lupin asked.

“That’s the first time he’s forced the spell back on the caster, isn’t it?” followed McGonagall.

Dumbledore’s eyes looked vaguely worried. “I’m not sure how he did it, but I think it had everything to do with his loss of emotional control at Severus. He’s been able to absorb spells for some time with little to no harm, depending on their strength, but Minerva is right, that is the first time he has forced it back on the caster.” Dumbledore smiled at Lupin, “I was afraid he was going to hurt you, Remus. He was so angry.”

Lupin smiled back. “Notice it affected you not at all, though. How?”

“I knew it was coming. Due to our Occlumency lessons, I am very attuned to Harry’s energy. He felt quite different that time; I could almost see the spell working its way back out of him. But, he said himself that he had no control over it. And that is the important thing he must learn, Remus. That is the essential thing.”

All three Professors fell deep in thought and made their way to the Headmaster’s office in silence.

Chapter Text

When the Professors had gone, Harry raised his head and looked at Draco. “I need to lie down for a minute. And let’s shut the hangings, I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

They crawled back into Harry’s bed and drew the curtains around them. Draco muttered a sealing charm and lay back next to Harry, looking into his eyes.

“Are you o.k.?” they said to each other in unison. They both smiled.

“You first,” Harry said, and closed his eyes.

“I’m, I’m….I don’t know what I am Harry. That was the last thing I was expecting. I figured the next time I heard anything from my father it would be in a battle or something.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Draco. His voice had sounded incredibly sad.

“Why did you think that? You had to know your mum and dad wouldn’t just leave you without a word.”

Draco laughed derisively. “Oh, really? I mean, that’s what they did, isn’t it? And besides, my father has no love for me. I think having a child for him was just a way to extend his power. I was a bit of a disappointment to him, though.”

Draco rolled onto his back and sighed. “Do you have any idea how weird this has all been for me?” he asked Harry.

Harry thought about it for a minute. He was so caught up in his busy schedule and his strange new feelings for Draco that he had to admit he had not given much thought to Draco’s predicament. Ever since the night Draco broke down in the Slytherin dungeon, he seemed perfectly fine. The Slytherins liked him again, he was doing well in all his classes, and now, he and Harry were finally together. It hadn’t occurred to Harry that things might still be bothering Draco. He suddenly felt rather guilty.

“What’s been weird, love?” Harry asked gently. In the dormitory, he could hear the shuffling of feet and the voices of his dorm mates.

“Ever since the night I was taken to the Ministry, I’ve sort of been of two minds. At first, I was devastated by what happened. I could not believe that my parents would just leave me. I fully expected that my father would burst in at any moment, all righteous anger and evil, and kill everyone who had touched me. I wanted him to do it, I needed him to do it."

"But it wasn’t him that saved me from Moody and that evil potion, it was Dumbledore. I woke up in Dumbledore’s lovely guest bedroom, snug in new pajamas, was fed my favorite foods, and basically coddled the entire summer like I was an invalid or something. I rather enjoyed it, Harry. No one had treated me that way since I was a very small boy. "

"But every night, for a long time, part of me was still waiting for my father to make his grand entrance and smite everyone who had so insulted his son.” Draco smirked at the thought.

“Day after day, though, it didn’t happen. And Dumbledore treated me so well; he respected my opinions, he seemed to enjoy listening to what I had to say, he answered my questions with honesty and sincerity. The longer this went on, the more I liked it."

"Then, a really weird thing started to happen. I found that I liked being by myself, with no one looming over me all the time, forcing me to do and say and think horrible things, forcing me to be someone I wasn’t sure I was. I started to wonder, for the first time in my life, what it was that I wanted. I knew I didn’t want to be Lucius Malfoy’s son anymore. Sometimes, I would look in the mirror and hate what I saw because I look so much like him.”

“Draco, I know everyone says that, but you really don’t look like him. You’ve the same coloring, that’s all.” Harry said as a means of comfort. The fact was, Draco did look remarkably like Lucius.

Draco smiled wanly. “Anyway, I started to question who, exactly, was Draco Malfoy, if not Lucius Malfoy’s son?”

Draco stopped for moment. His eyes teared up and Harry could tell that he was choking back his emotions. Harry took one of his long, pale hands and held it tightly.

Draco gave him a weak smile. “You’re not the only one that had a less than desirable childhood, you know. My father did- made me do- some unspeakable things.”

Harry squeezed his hand. “You want to tell me?”

One tear fell from the corner of Draco’s eye and he wiped it away angrily.

“I want to Harry, but I’m afraid if I do, you won’t be able to love me anymore. I’m not sure if I could live with that.”

Draco was hurting Harry’s hand with his grip, but Harry said nothing. He leaned over and kissed him gently on is cheek, tasting the salt left by his tear.

“Draco, I can’t imagine what you could tell me that would make me not love you. I want to know everything about you. I want to know what hurts you, what makes you happy, what makes you laugh, everything. It can only make us stronger together.” Draco’s faced scrunched up as he fought not to cry. “If you’re not ready to tell me, fine, but don’t ever think that I won’t love you.”

A few more tears escaped, but Draco seemed to get himself under control. Harry was always amazed at how quickly Draco was able to gain the upper hand on his emotions. He wiped away the stray tears and pulled Draco close. Draco was stiff as a board, his body filled with tension. He sniffed, heaved a great sigh, and began.

“My father had very little to do with me when I was young. I would try to sit in his lap or hug his knees and he would push me away. He always accused me of being filthy, even if I was spot on clean. My mother used to wash and dress me four or five times a day to try and pass his inspections. "

"But he never touched me, unless I was doing something wrong and he was correcting me, and he never played with me or showed any kind of affection. The only thing I remember about him is that everyone seemed to fear him. The house elves, my mother, everyone trembled in his presence. I learned very early to be afraid of him, but he was never really there to be afraid of. He was like this shadow that would occasionally pass through my life. "

"I was pretty happy, really, as my mother more than made up for my father’s lack of affection. We played all the time, Harry.” Draco smiled wistfully. “It was her that taught me my name meant dragon. I had dragon everything, Harry, I was so spoiled. Dragon sheets, dragon shirts, stuffed dragons, dragon books; you imagine it, I had it. It’s our family crest, by the way, so my dad just thought she was instilling some Malfoy pride in me. "

"Anyway, she taught me everything when I was small. She was my whole world, her and this house elf named Simsi, who helped my mum with the more unpleasant facets of raising a small boy, like cleaning up after me. I wasn’t allowed to have any friends because my father hated children and most of all he hated visitors to our house. He’s never trusted anyone. The only people I ever remember visiting were his fellow Death Eaters, particularly Professor Snape. He and my mother were very close, and he played with us sometimes.”

Harry snorted, imagining Snape playing with a small child. It was a funny image. Draco smiled at him. “He did, I assure you. He always let me kill his knights with my knights. It wasn’t bad, really, being little.”

A cloud passed over Draco’s face. “Then, I wasn’t so little anymore. When I was about nine, my parents started talking about me coming here, to Hogwarts. I didn’t know anything then, not about Voldemort, or Death Eaters, or Dark Magic, nothing. I was so excited to come here as I’d never really been anywhere but grounds of our manor and shopping with mum on several occasions. With my time at Hogwarts coming up, my father decided it was time to initiate me into his world."

" He started spending all his time with me, and would not allow me to see my mother except at meals and briefly before bed. I was distraught. I missed her terribly. I didn’t know my father, and he was hateful. He started feeding me all this shit about how my mother was weak and unambitious, about how it was a Malfoy’s duty to dominate because we were purebloods and better than everyone, about how Muggle borns and Traitors should die, all that shit. He terrified me with that talk."

"But I’ve always been smart, and I quickly found that if I pretended to agree with him, he would shut up and become a little nicer and less scary. But if I didn’t agree with him about something, it was a different story."

"I wasn’t allowed opinions. He wouldn’t let me laugh at things, he wouldn’t let me cry about anything, he wouldn’t let me do or think anything other than what he said. If I didn’t obey, he’d smack me on the ass with that fucking cane of his. It wasn’t too long before I started dreaming of cracking that thing over his head.”

Draco rolled over and showed his back to Harry. His voice became much more quiet as he continued. “One day we went to Diagon Alley. It was the first time, in my entire life nonetheless, that I’d ever been anywhere with just my father. I was so excited, Harry. He bought me an ice cream, but I only got to eat half of it because I got some on my face and he nearly lost his mind and made me throw it away. I was so embarrassed-he yelled at me and wiped my face so hard it almost bled, right there in the street, in front of everyone."

"But, like a good little Malfoy, I didn’t cry, so he decided to reward me. We went into the pet store, and he bought me a rat. My very first, and only, it would turn out, pet.”

Draco’s voice had taken on a dull, dead quality. Harry put his arm around his waist, but Draco seemed not to notice.

“At home, all this time, he was teaching me spells and curses. I didn’t know they were bad, he just made them seem really cool, kept telling me I could tell no one I knew these things. Like it was our secret game. I’d named my rat Midas, and even though I wasn’t allowed to take him out of his cage or pet him, I really loved my rat. He kept me company when I was alone in my bedroom, and I liked the little noises he made and the way his whiskers twitched when Simsi threw food in to him.”

“Anyway,” Draco took a deep breath, “I’d had him about a month, when my father came in my room one day and took him out of his cage, holding him by his tail. I got very angry and yelled for him to not hold him like that. My father backhanded me, hard. ‘Never speak to me like that again, Draco, or you will not live to see the next sunrise’ he said, still holding my squealing rat upside down. ‘We have business with this vermin, Draco, come’."

"I didn’t want to follow. I could tell something bad was about to happen, he had a weird look in his eyes. He seemed almost happy.”

Draco’s breathing had increased dramatically. He seemed to be having trouble talking, but the words were rushing out of his mouth.

“We went out to an empty stable and my father took out his wand. He put Midas down on the ground and said ‘Today, Draco, I am going to teach you a very effective method for getting people to do whatever it is you want them to do. Sounds fun, yes? Now, watch and learn’. He pointed his wand at my rat, who was just sitting there, stupid thing, and yelled ‘Crucio’.”

Draco stopped, his breath hitched. Harry flinched. After a moment, Draco continued.

“Well, you know about that. I don’t remember a lot, except that I tried to run and pick him up, but my father knocked me down. He said ‘Look, Draco, watch it. It is one of the most powerful things you will ever see’. I was crying, so he slapped me again. He finally lifted the spell, and Midas just lay there, panting."

"He had blood dripping out of his nose and ears. Then my father handed me his wand and told me to perform the spell. I refused and threw is wand down. He slapped me. It went on like that until I finally picked up his stupid wand, and did it. It didn’t work, you have to mean it, and I certainly didn’t, and he racked me across the shoulders with his cane. I kept crying and trying the curse again and again and he finally just lost it."

"He punched me, in the mouth, and I fell down in the corner of the stall. He berated me and told me that I was not his son, I was worthless, all that fun stuff. Then he left me there, locked me in with my dying rat and his wand. ‘You’re not leaving this stall until you’ve done it’ he said. "

“I tried to save Midas at first, I said every spell I knew that I thought would help, but of course, nothing did. I was only nine, I didn’t really know much except the dark spells my father had been teaching me. I got so angry, Harry. I got so mad that that stupid rat wouldn’t get better, or at least get up and try to run away. I remember, I stood up and yelled at him. I think I kicked him a couple of times, trying to get him to do something other than lie there and pant. I finally picked up the wand again, and I did it. I did it, and it worked. And Midas died.”

Harry was crying. He had never been so sad and angry for another person. He held Draco tighter.

“But my father was very happy. He came back in and hugged me. It was the first time that had ever happened, and I really was filthy then. I had blood on my mouth and nose, and hay and dirt on my clothes from the floor. But he hugged me anyway. ‘Very good Draco, very good. I had not really expected you to get it so soon. You are talented, after all’ he said to me. I was still sorry that I had killed my rat, but I was so full of pride at having made my father happy.”

Draco sighed heavily again. “And that was just the beginning of things. He made me practice that fucking curse on other animals that he brought home, and then we graduated to house elves. I got very good at it. I think I enjoyed it in a weird way. The house elves started to avoid me and jump at the sound of my voice, which made me feel powerful like my father, and it always made him so happy when I would do it, he would just laugh and laugh as whoever or whatever it was I was cursing writhed on the ground.”

Harry felt disgusted. He had seen and felt the Cruciatus Curse and could not imagine anyone being heartless enough to laugh at its effects.

“He started taking me to his Death Eater meetings, and I started growing closer and closer to him. I wanted to be just like him. He was so well respected, we were treated like kings wherever we went. He started dressing me like him, started teaching me how to spot ‘weakness’ in others, and, just before I started Hogwarts, he started teaching me about the Boy Who Lived, and how he was coming to destroy our world.”

Harry inhaled sharply. He had not been expecting this.

“You want me to go on?” Draco asked in that dead, emotionless voice.

“Yes,” whispered Harry.

“I hated you so much. He talked about you incessantly. Here was this other boy, an almost Mudblood boy, and my father was absolutely obsessed with him. I had to torture something or make another kid cry in public or be revoltingly hateful to my mum to even get a look from him, but he talked about you all the bloody time. He told me about how your parents died, how you almost killed the Dark Lord and had nothing to show for it but a scar on your forehead.”

At this, Draco rolled over and looked at Harry. He reached up and ran his finger along Harry’s scar. Harry flinched and pulled away. A look of pain flooded Draco’s face.

“Don’t Harry. I need you close.” Harry relaxed a little and moved closer. This was Draco, he told himself, his Draco. Not the one that belonged to Lucius.

“Anyway, I decided that I would kill you, save the world and gain my father’s love all in one blow. I would show him that I was better than this other boy he was so interested in.”

Draco laughed. “After all this talk, I didn’t even know who you were the day I met you at Madame Malkin’s. It took me years to live that one down. I thought you were so pretty that day, Harry, with your bright green eyes and your broken glasses and shabby hair. You were so different than me. You looked exactly like a little boy should look, I thought, happy and carefree. "

"I think that’s what drew me to you that day. I could tell you weren’t from a really great family like the Malfoys, oh no, but I wanted to play with you so bad. I thought if I could make you see how privileged you were to be talking to a Malfoy, that a Malfoy wanted to be friends with you, that we could be best buddies. You’re still one of the only people who isn’t impressed by my last name, did you know?”

Harry smiled weakly at him. He couldn’t believe Draco was making jokes.

“Anyway, I think you know most of the rest of it from here. I became as obsessed with you as my father was. We talked about you all the time. I told him all about Weasley and Granger, Hermione I mean, about Quidditch, about Potions, about everything. He thought it was great that I was watching you so closely. He gave me all sorts of information so I could torment the three of you day and night."

"I knew all about that diary he gave Ginny, I knew all about the whole Chamber of Secrets thing, about Sirius being an Animagi, I knew long before you did that Voldemort was coming back. Gods, I was a horror.”

Draco looked vaguely ill. Harry rubbed his back for him. He snuggled closer and hid his face in Harry’s chest.

“There’s one more thing I have to tell you, then I am through with this depressing subject. But it’s this that worries me the most. It’s really horrible, Harry, really.”

Harry only pulled him tighter.

“All right. When I was fourteen, just last year, Simsi, my house elf got sick. I hadn’t been close to her since I was little, but I had never been mean to her either. She couldn’t work, but we were still feeding her, and my mother was paying Professor Snape to come and give her potions."

"My father was furious, he hates wasting money, especially on something so worthless as a sick house elf. It was a person affront to him. So, he decided it was time to get rid of her. That’s when I learned how to do the Avada Kedavra curse.”

Harry gasped. “He made you kill your house elf?”

“Yes,” was Draco’s quiet reply.

“How did you keep that from the Ministry? They would have put you in Azkaban!”

“I didn’t keep it from the Ministry. You can’t decide what to tell and what not to tell when you’ve been force fed Veritaserum Potion for days on end. House elves are property, Harry. You’re well within your rights to kill one if it no longer services you.”

Harry looked appalled.

“Your side’s not looking so good right now, huh?” Draco asked gently as he looked at Harry.

Harry shook his head. “Maybe I should talk to Hermione again about joining S.P.E.W. But Draco, how could you? You’d known her all your life, she took care of you.”

Draco hid his face again. “Because Harry, all I cared about was pleasing my father. I wanted to be a Death Eater, would have been a Death Eater this year, after my sixteenth birthday. I would do anything to make him happy. I just kept telling myself that she was old, that it was better that way. I don’t think I hurt her. I got it right on the first try.” An eerie, high-pitched laugh escaped Draco.

Harry could tell that Draco was crying. The growing strangeness Harry had felt towards him faded instantly at the choked sound in his voice. Draco had been abused in ways that Harry could not imagine. He had been dead on when he had said Draco was lost. Harry was determined to help him find himself again.

The two boys sat in silence for a long time. Everyone had cleared out of the dormitory now, and the only sound was the creaking of the castle.

Draco looked up at Harry, fear in his eyes. “Do you still love me?”

Harry looked down at him, studying his eyes, his face. He was relieved to find that he did still love him.

“Yes, Draco. Always.”

Draco was silent for a moment. Then “My father was there the night your parents died. He talks about it all the time.”

Harry froze and his grip on Draco tightened. “What does he say?” Harry asked.

“He just says that your parents were idiots who got in over their heads. And that he wished the Dark Lord would have let him kill them instead. He says that if he had known you had survived, he would have strangled you to destroy you.” Draco’s voice was barely a whisper.

Harry decided right then that he would kill Lucius Malfoy. He had helped kill his parents, and he knew now that if he hadn’t have left Draco this summer, he would have as good as killed him, too. The man wasn’t human, he was a demon. At that moment, it didn’t matter to Harry if he had to spend the rest of his life in Azkaban or not. Lucius Malfoy was a dead man if they ever met again.

“Harry?” Draco whispered.

Harry twitched out of his reverie. He kissed Draco on the head.

“You know, Draco, I’m not mad at Moody anymore. He did you a favor.”

Draco pulled away from him at once. “What? He almost killed me with that shit! How was that a favor?”

Harry reached out and stroked his face. “Because Draco, I think you were dangerously close to losing your soul forever. Your bloody father is worse than a Dementor. In a way, Moody gave it back to you, though I’m certain he didn’t have that intention.”

Draco grabbed Harry and kissed him deeply. Harry responded in kind. The kiss was different than any they had shared the night before; it was heartfelt, more tender and intimate.

Draco pulled himself away from Harry reluctantly. There were fresh tears in his eyes.

“Merlin, I have gotten so bloody leaky around the eyes since I’ve known you. Malfoy’s don’t cry, everyone knows that.”

“Draco, if I were a Malfoy, I don’t think I would ever stop crying.”

Draco launched himself at Harry and hugged him tightly. He seemed relieved, his body was loose now, all tension gone. But Harry would think about the things Draco had told him for a long, long time.

“Now, what the fuck was that you did to Lupin and Dumbledore?”

Harry laughed. “It’s the main thing I’m working on now. I’ve gotten really good at all the other stuff they’ve been teaching me. I rock at Occlumency now-I could read your mind if I wanted to.”

Draco looked at him with concern. “You wouldn’t, would you? I mean, that’s not really fair.”

Harry laughed again. “No, Draco, I would never. It’s a bit creepy, really. You can feel the other person’s emotions, and if they push you out, it’s almost painful. It’s like being out of your body, sort of. I don’t really like it, but I’m really, really good at it. I can definitely see how it could come in handy against your enemies.”

Draco scowled. “Well, I want to learn it too, so I can protect myself from you. What if you get mad at me and want to annihilate me in a fight, or find out what I got you for your birthday or something?”

Harry shook his head. “I told you, I wouldn’t. But it would still be cool for you to learn. We’d be able to communicate telepathically.”

Draco grinned. “That would be cool. But what about today?”

“We’ve been working on a way for me to use the spell my mother put on me when she died. She gave me a huge protective force that can absorb spells and keep them from harming me. The night she died, it not only absorbed the spell Voldemort cast, it rebounded on him. Dumbledore thinks it was because she loved me so much and was determined that I would not die and that nothing would harm me. I’m trying to learn how to harness it so that I can rebound any spell I want.”

Draco looked amazed. “Harry, you’ll be the most powerful wizard alive if you can do that.”

Harry only shrugged. “I guess. I just want to be able to stay alive when I have to fight Voldemort.” Draco continued to stare at him in wonder. It was making Harry uncomfortable. “I learned one interesting thing today, though, from Snape.”

“What was that?” Draco asked, but he didn’t really sound all that interested.

“He has a huge crush on you. He’s mad as hell that we’re together.”

“What?” Draco cried. The subject was successfully changed.

“Yeah. I went into his head for a second when I got so mad at him. Apparently, when I asked him why he was staring at us like he was, and he didn’t answer me, I projected myself onto him. It was only for a second, a very greasy second at that, and then he pushed me out. That’s why I got so mad. He loves you and he thinks I’m using you to get to your father.”

Draco’s mouth worked wordlessly. Finally, he was able to speak. “But I’ve known him since a was a kid. I mean, he liked my mum, or so I thought.” Draco groaned. “Oh, Harry, I could have lived my whole life without knowing that. Are you sure?”

Harry grinned deviously. “Yeah, Draco, I’m sure. You are irresistible, you know. Can’t really blame the old guy. I’ll just have to be sure to never leave you alone with him.”

Draco made a disgusted face that made Harry burst out laughing. Draco rose from the bed.

“Shut up, Potter. Let’s go talk to Dumbledore. There were a few things that bothered me about that letter, and I want to discuss it with him.”

Harry got up from the bed and wrapped his arms around Draco. “We have to shower first,” he said in Draco’s ear.

Draco had automatically wrapped his arms back around Harry. Now, he pushed himself even closer to him. “What does the Gryffindor Prefect’s bathroom look like, anyway?”

Harry kissed Draco’s neck and ran one hand through his long hair. “Come on, I’d be happy to show you.”

It was at least another hour before they made it to Dumbledore’s office.

Chapter Text

Harry and Draco reached Professor Dumbledore’s office just before lunch. He was pleased to see that they looked much happier than when he had left them earlier that day.

Draco reluctantly drank the Verbatim Potion Professor Snape had left for him-he was a bit wary of potions these days-and recounted the contents of the letter from his father for Professor Dumbledore. They both agreed that the letter was out of character for Lucius-it had been far too kind and apologetic. The comment about watching over Draco weighed heavily on Dumbledore’s mind. He looked cautiously at Harry and Draco, who were sitting in front of him, stealing glances and holding hands, happy and oblivious. He hated to rain on their parade.

“Harry, I know that you plan to ask Draco to accompany you to the Weasley’s for Christmas holidays, but I am not sure that is a wise plan. It may not be safe. From Lucius’ letter, we can only gather that he is very serious about contacting Draco. I’m sure you would not like for him and a dozen or so Death Eaters to turn up at the Weasley’s unannounced.”

Both Harry and Draco’s faces fell. Draco took his hand from Harry, folded his arms and sat back in his chair. He began pouting. “He can sod off. I’m not afraid of him.” It was a lie, he was terrified of Lucius Malfoy, but he was not going to spend Christmas without Harry.

Harry looked angrily at Dumbledore. “I am so sick of this. I have to stay at the Dursley’s every summer, for my own safety, I can’t go anywhere alone, for my own safety, and now you’re telling me that I can’t spend Christmas with my family, for my own safety. Let Malfoy come. I have business with him anyway.” Harry finished with a sneer that made Draco proud.

Draco took Harry’s hand again and looked defiantly at Dumbledore, but the Headmaster only smiled gently. “Oh, I think if Lucius Malfoy crashed the Weasley’s Christmas party, you’d probably be quite safe Harry. He might try to take you, in the end, but he’s too smart to try and kill you himself. He knows full well that Voldemort wants to be the one to do so. It was more Draco’s safety that I was worried about.”

Harry’s eyes filled with worry. He looked at Draco protectively. “Maybe he’s right. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Maybe I could go for just a week, and then come right back here and spend the rest of holidays with you.”

Draco looked like Harry had slapped him, but as usual, recovered quickly. He dropped Harry’s hand. “Fine, Harry. You do what you think best.” You could almost see ice form on Draco’s lips from the coldness in his voice. He stood and looked at Dumbledore. “I think that’s all then,” he said as he stood and turned to leave.

Harry grabbed his arm, realizing that he had hurt Draco deeply. “Sit down, you prat.” Draco yanked his arm away and glared at Harry. Harry took his hand lightly and gave Draco his best puppy dog eyes, which were quite good. “I’m sorry, Draco, you know I’ll stay here with you the entire time, if that’s what you want. I just don’t want to hurt Mum Weasley either.” Draco sat down again, and though smug and happy to get his way, he hated the torn look on Harry’s face.

Dumbledore watched the scene with amusement. He cleared his throat to remind the two young men that he was, in fact, still in the room.

“Maybe there is somewhere else, somewhere safe, that you can all go that Lucius Malfoy knows nothing about. Maybe Grimmauld Place?” the Headmaster suggested brightly.

Harry’s whole face lit up and he leapt from his chair. “Of course! I hadn’t even thought of that! I’ll owl Mum and Mr. Weasley right now! Come on, Draco,” he said as he tugged on Draco’s hand.

Draco gently nudged Harry off. “I need to talk to Professor Dumbledore alone for a minute. You go ahead. I’ll meet you upstairs, and we can go to the Owlery together.”

Harry nodded and kissed Draco on the forehead. His eyes were glowing with excitement and he was practically bouncing. Draco felt his heart leap-he still wasn’t used to how adorable he found Harry. “I’ll be there in a minute, love,” Draco said as he squeezed Harry’s hand. Harry kissed him again.

Dumbledore stood to walk Harry to the door. “Things are happening rather quickly with you and Draco,” he commented when they were out of earshot of the other boy.

Harry shrugged. “Not really. I mean, it’s not like we just met. And it did take almost three months for us to figure out that we liked each other.”

Dumbledore smiled and placed his hand on Harry’s back. “Well, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I asked you to be nicer to him at the start of term, but it’s certainly good to see both of you so happy.” The Headmaster beamed as Harry blushed slightly. “Oh, can I ask a favor, Harry?”

Harry nodded, happy to change the subject.

“When you next see Professor Snape, apologize for trying to attack him today. Pretend that I chastised you most grievously for it. Otherwise, he may try to hex me, and that would be most unfortunate.”

Harry grinned shamefacedly. “I will, Professor.” Although, I’m not sorry at all, he thought. Professor Dumbledore grinned impishly at him. Harry blushed again, having forgotten that his mind was fairly opened to Dumbledore since they had started their intense Occlumency lessons together. “O.k., o.k., I really am sorry. I hate him, but I completely lost control of myself. I should never have done that.”

They had reached the door. “No, Harry, you shouldn’t have. But he has been asking for it for years, hasn’t he?” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled.

Harry smiled and looked at the Headmaster, his own eyes starting to twinkle. “How did you know I was going to ask Draco to the Weasley’s for Christmas? I haven’t even told Ron and Hermione yet.”

Dumbledore only smiled more broadly. “Have a good afternoon, Harry. I’m sure Draco will be along shortly.” He let Harry out and returned to his desk.

“What can I do for you Draco?”

Draco took on a very businesslike air, arranging his hands into a steeple in his lap. “I need some money. I can’t keep asking Harry to buy the things I need, especially now, with Christmas coming on and it looking like I’ll have to buy presents for a whole passel of Weasleys. Do you think you could get the Ministry to allow me access to my trust, at least? I know they won’t unfreeze all of the Malfoy assets because of my mum and father, but my parents can’t touch my trust. My grandfather left it to me, and I am the only one with authorization to withdraw from it. It wouldn’t hurt anything, and I really need the Galleons.” He was trying to hide it, but there was a slightly desperate light in Draco’s eyes.

Dumbledore sighed. “I will do what I can, Draco. But there are those at the Ministry that still believe you know where your father is, and would aid him if you had the means.”

Draco flushed. “How could anyone possibly think that? All they have to do is review my case, and they would know that I had no choice but to tell them the truth! I don’t know anything about him! Today was the first I’ve heard from him since they disappeared!”

Dumbledore looked pointedly at Draco. “Yes, Draco, I know. But, for perhaps the first time in your life, your family name is working against you. The Malfoys are no longer trusted by the Ministry.”

Draco sneered. “Just tell them I’m shagging their precious Boy Who Lived. That ought to be endorsement enough for them.” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at this. Draco looked down at his hands, ashamed. “Just do what you can for me, please. I know Fudge listens to you.”

Dumbledore nodded his head in agreement. “I will do what I can, Draco. I think you have made a very reasonable request. Is there anything else?”

“Well, yes. How did you know I had received that letter today? How did you know to come to Harry’s room?”

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and looked at Draco. “You’re very smart, Draco. Most people wouldn’t have noticed that.” Draco smiled. “The tracking device on your arm does more than tell me where you are. It also tells me if your father or mother are present. The letter set it off. I’m sorry if it hurt you, but the Ministry insisted that you wear it. As I said, there are those who still believe that you know where they are and that it’s only a matter of time before you reunite with them. They thought if they put a device on you that caused some sort of pain, you’d be unable to run when they came for you. What you felt today is only a taste of what will happen if your parents ever do return.”

Draco looked ill. He was a baby about pain, everyone knew that. “Lovely. I guess I can only take the bloody thing off when they are back in custody or dead?”

Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “Come Draco, let me show you out. Harry will be waiting, and the two of you should take lunch. In fact, you both seem quite well enough to attend this afternoon’s classes.”

Draco quickly plastered a distressed look on his face. “Actually, I think Harry needs more time to rest. I was thinking of asking Professor Snape for a Restorative Draught for him. That whole spell rebounding thing really wore him out.”

Dumbledore laughed heartily. Draco was a manipulative, self-centered brat sometimes, but he was very funny. As the two walked to the door, Draco looked at the Headmaster. Dumbledore sighed. He could remember all too well when the two boys who had been in his office this morning had had to look up to meet his eyes. They were both taller than he was now. He suddenly felt very, very old.

“Professor, I’d like it if you joined us for Christmas, as my guest. I know Harry won’t mind and you can bring Madame Pomfrey. If Harry and I can be open about our relationship, maybe it’s about time you came out about yours,” Draco teased, eyebrow raised in challenge.

Dumbledore turned the knob and opened the door for Draco. “We will see, Mr. Malfoy. That does sound inviting, I must say. We’ve spent the last fifty or so Christmases alone at home. Thank you for the invitation, I will certainly let you know.” The two men shook hands and Draco left. Dumbledore watched him as he strode down the hall. The blonde had come a long way since the summer. Feeling content again, Dumbledore closed the door to his office.

Dear Mum and Mr. Weasley,

How’s everything at the Burrow? Things couldn’t be better here. Ron and Hermione are doing great, my Quidditch team is undefeated, and I am becoming quite good at my extracurricular lessons. I’m still struggling with Potions, but that’s to be expected by now, I think.

But now for my really good news. I have fallen totally in love with a wonderful person. I was beginning to think there was something wrong with me, but then he came along, and now he’s my boyfriend. And no, you did not read that wrong, I did say ‘boyfriend’. The person that I’m in love with is another guy. I hope you are all right with that, it’s not as if I planned it or anything. It just seems that we were meant for each other all along. I’ve known him since I was eleven, and he’s been our friend since school started this term. He and I only just got together, but I know in my heart that it’s for real. Now, Mum Weasley, I know you don’t trust him, and Mr. Weasley, I know you have had bad experiences with his father, but I promise you, he’s not like you think. And, most importantly, I love him.

In case you haven’t guessed by now, my new boyfriend is Draco Malfoy. It took us quite a while of being friends before we figured out there was more to it, but it finally happened and I couldn’t be happier. I can’t wait for you all to meet over Christmas holiday!

Speaking of Christmas, I know it is over a month away, but I want to make slightly different plans this year. Draco’s father has sent him a letter threatening to come and kidnap him, and it may not be safe for us if we have Christmas someplace unprotected, like the Burrow. I was wondering if it would be possible for us to all celebrate at Headquarters this year? I was going to invite Remus and Dumbledore, too, since last year was such fun. If not, I am afraid I am going to have to stay at Hogwarts for the holidays to ensure that Draco is safe.

Well, that is all for now. Please owl me as soon as you can get up off the floor, HA! I love you both very much, and I hope this hasn’t been too much for you.

See you at Christmas!

Love, Harry

Draco handed the letter back to Harry. “I think it’s fine. It’s too bad you can’t tell them in person, but I don’t think they’re going to like the news any way they get it. Oh, and I already invited Dumbledore” Draco was inwardly glowing. Harry had been very sweet about him in the letter.

Harry’s hand was a bit shaky as he rolled the letter up. “I’m glad I can’t see them in person. You’ve never had the pleasure of seeing Mrs. Weasley go ballistic, but I have. I want to be as far away from her as possible when she reads this,” he said indicating the scroll.

Draco laughed. “The whole school saw that Howler she sent Weasley the year you guys flew that car here. I can only imagine the real thing.” Draco stopped laughing abruptly. “She’s going to hate me.”

Harry hugged and kissed him, then looked at him seriously. “She might,” he teased. Draco swatted at him, and the two made their way to the Owlery.

On the way back from posting the letter, classes were changing and the grounds were milling with people. Draco and Harry and been holding hands, and when the first people appeared, Draco had dropped Harry’s back to his side. Harry gave him an angry look and grabbed his hand again, entwining their fingers and standing far enough away from Draco that it was obvious that they were definitely holding hands as they walked. Several people stopped dead and stared as they passed. Harry leaned over and gave Draco a quick peck on the lips as they strolled along. Draco stopped and kissed Harry deeply in front of everyone.

There was a loud, collective sigh among the girls, and a few boys, at Hogwarts that day. And though no girls were actually spotted crying, much to Draco’s disappointment, by dinner that evening, news of Harry and Draco’s relationship was all over the school.

When the two had entered the Great Hall, a hush had fallen over the other students and they had watched the pair intently. Draco absolutely ate it up, and took every opportunity he could to touch or kiss Harry. Harry tried to act as normal as possible as he ate and chatted with Ron and Hermione, but even for someone who was accustomed to being stared at, it was too much. Halfway through dinner, he turned to Draco.

“Let’s go. This is getting on my nerves. I feel like they’re waiting for us to get up and shag on the table or something.”

He should have noticed the glint in Draco’s eyes at that comment.

They said they’re good-byes to Ron and Hermione, Harry said good-bye to the rest of the Gryffindors (Draco was still fairly uncivil to all but the trio), and they turned to leave. Harry reached back to take Draco’s hand, and Draco took it and pulled him hard against him. Before Harry could even speak, Draco planted a firm, passionate kiss on him, sinking his hands in Harry’s messy black hair so that he’d have no chance of escape. Harry immediately threw his arms around Draco, one hand in his long blonde hair, and one pressed firmly against the small of his back, pulling him even closer. In seconds, the two were completely lost in each other, kissing deeply and emitting low hums of pleasure.

The Great Hall went almost silent. The teachers stared with mixed expressions, but only Snape moved. He threw his napkin on his plate and stormed from the Great Hall. Hermione, Ron and Ginny were sitting right next to Harry and Draco, and were the only ones who heard Harry when he whispered into Draco’s ear “Draco, I need you. Now,” before pulling him into another deep kiss. It had been a throaty whisper, full of heat and desire. Harry’s hands were all over Draco, and he seemed not to realize that hundreds of people were watching his every move.

Hermione and Ginny’s jaws dropped and they gaped at each other. Ron blushed and tried to ignore the whole thing.

Draco pulled away from Harry and stroked his face, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips. “I know, love. Let’s go.” Harry grabbed him roughly and kissed him again before they hurriedly left the Great Hall.

Ginny turned and looked at Hermione, her eyes wide. “That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.”

“Ginny! Don’t be so revolting!” Ron cried.

Ginny ignored him, however, as she gazed out the doors where the two boys had just exited. “Merlin, what I wouldn’t give to be invisible and in the boy’s dorm right now. That is going to be hot, hot, hot.”

Before Ron could make another protest, Hermione, who was following Ginny’s gaze out the doors, said in a lusty voice “Hear, hear!”

Ron went pale as he stared at the two girls. His sister and his girlfriend had obviously gone mad.

Up in the boy’s dorm, things were getting very hot indeed. Harry was already stripped down to his boxers as Draco was very deft with these things, but Harry was still fumbling to unclasp Draco’s robe. He was having a difficult time concentrating on the small metal clasps while Draco insisted on kissing him. Finally, Harry growled low in his throat and ripped the robe off Draco’s shoulders in frustration.

“Harry!” Draco gasped. His robe lay ruined on the ground. “I’ve only got three of those, you know!” Draco could not hide his excitement, however, as he stared at Harry.

Harry had taken on lion like characteristics again. His eyes were half shut, he was breathing heavily, and low growling sounds kept emanating from his throat and chest. He crushed Draco’s mouth to his, muttering “Buy you more” as he did so. He wrenched Draco away and threw him down on the bed. Draco began unbuttoning his shirt, hands trembling, and never taking his eyes off Harry.

“Fuck that,” Harry growled again as he sat down on top of Draco and proceeded to rip off his shirt as well. Pearl buttons flew in all directions and littered the bed. Harry had decided he liked the sound of ripping fabric, and now Draco lay before him bare-chested and prone. He decided he liked that too.

“Harry! What has gotten into you?” Draco breathed with delight.

“Just get your pants off before I tear them up, too,” Harry breathed right back as he fell on Draco’s chest and stomach, licking and biting as he went. Draco complied as rapidly as he could. Draco barely had time to slide his trousers off and cast the sealing charm before Harry had him in his mouth.

Draco was only dimly aware that he was practically screaming Harry’s name over and over again. He had his legs wrapped around Harry’s back and was arching into his mouth, spasms of pleasure wracking his body. By the time his orgasm hit, he had not been able to form words at all, but just let out a long, loud moan.

Harry came up and lay on top of Draco, now completely tame. He kissed Draco gently and ran his hand over his perfect, pale chest and stomach. Draco’s hair was a mess, there was huge knot in the back of it. Harry smiled and decided it probably wasn’t the best time to bring that up.

Draco opened his eyes and looked at Harry. They were so pale they reminded Harry of a wolf’s eyes. He stroked his boyfriend’s eyebrows, his cheeks, his lips. He knew that he would never see anything more beautiful than Draco Malfoy as long as he lived. He laid his head on Draco’s shoulder, still looking into those piercing eyes.

Draco reached down between Harry’s legs and started stroking him ever so gently. Harry’s eyelids fluttered and he moaned softly. He began kissing Draco’s neck.

“Harry, I want you,” Draco whispered in his ear.

Harry smiled and nibbled on his earlobe. “I’d say you have me at the moment,” he replied.

Draco ran his fingertips along Harry’s firm thighs. “No, I mean, I want you. I want us, to,” he took Harry in his hand again, “you know.”

Harry took his hand away and held it. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Draco shook his head yes.

Harry held his breath and stared at him. “Are you sure?”

Draco, again, shook his head yes. “But, Harry, I’m a little scared. We have to be careful.”

Harry pulled Draco so close to him that it seemed every inch of their bodies were touching somewhere. He could see the tiny flecks of baby blue and ash that speckled Draco’s eyes.

“I would never hurt you, Draco. You do know that, right? I would die before I ever hurt you. I’ll do whatever you want, however you want. And if you change your mind, all you have to say is stop.”

Draco kissed Harry. “I won’t change my mind.”

Harry pulled Draco on top of him and held him tightly.

After it was over and they had slept a while, the two young men had made their way to the shower again. Ron had not been able to look Harry in the eye, and Hermione had not been able to stop staring at him strangely when they stopped to speak to them in the common room on their way out. Ginny had blushed and excused herself when they had approached.

Harry and Draco were too preoccupied to notice everyone’s weirdness, however. Part of it was that Harry would not stop holding Draco. Even as they walked, he was draped over his shoulders, plodding along behind him. Draco didn’t really mind. After what they had just experienced together, he didn’t want Harry to ever be away from him.

They stood together in the shower, Draco leaning back against Harry, and Harry with his arms around Draco’s waist. He was kissing Draco softly all over his cheeks and neck.

“Are you o.k.?” It was at least the fiftieth time Harry had asked him that. Draco smiled and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Harry, I am better than o.k. I can’t imagine being any better. I feel strangely in touch with my feminine side at the moment, but I assure you, I am doing just fine.” He wrapped his hands around backwards and pulled Harry closer.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Harry asked gently.

Draco smiled. Harry had been so gentle and taken such time and care that it had seemed like he was teasing Draco at one point. It had not hurt at all. “No, Harry. Do we have different memories of the event, because I don’t remember acting in any way like I was in pain? Those noises I was making were not unhappy ones.”

Harry squeezed him gently. “Good. When can we do it again?” he teased.

Draco turned around to face him. “After I get my turn, thank you.”

Harry smiled. “Oh, so later this evening?”

Draco laughed. “I have created a monster. No, no more today. Two showers are enough. Maybe tomorrow.”

Harry raised an eyebrow in a very good imitation of Draco. “Maybe tonight?”

Draco only grinned at him and shook his head. “You are insatiable.”

Harry grinned back at him and turned Draco back around so his back was to him again. “Who can blame me? Now, hand me that conditioner stuff,” he said.

Draco handed it back. “What do you need that for?”

“You said it makes your hair smooth, right?” Harry asked as he opened the bottle and sniffed. “Mmmm, smells good.” He squirted a huge dollop into his palm.

“Merlin, Harry, you don’t need that much. It’ll just make your hair greasy if you put too much in.”

Harry rubbed his palms together. “It’s not for me. It’s for you. You’ve got a huge knot in the back of your hair. It looks like a silver rat’s nest.”

Draco reached back, alarmed. Harry was right, there was a huge knot. “What the hell?” he whispered in horror.

Harry began to gently work the knot out. “I think it’s from, er, being on your back all day.”

Draco winced as Harry pulled at his hair. “Be careful, I’m tender headed,” he whined. Then he laughed. “Well, I guess if this is the only drawback to having sex with you, I can live with it. Ow!” he cried as Harry tugged at the knot.

“Stop being such a baby, Draco. I’m barely pulling it.” He kissed him on his shoulder.

“You just be careful, that’s all I’m asking. I don’t want a big bald spot back there.” Draco said snappishly. Harry rolled his eyes and continued to work out the knot. Neither boy could remember ever being so happy before.

Chapter Text

Lucius lie on the old, luxurious bed, body wracked with fading pain. Bellatrix had just administered a powerful Pain Away Draught that was beginning to help ease his broken body. He hoped that with the pain at bay, he might get a couple of hours of much needed sleep.

Lucius had made a serious mistake and the Dark Lord had punished him most severely for it. Lucius could clearly remember the indescribable agony that had permeated every bone, muscle and nerve in his body. How long it had gone on he did not know, but he knew that he had come as close to dying as one does without actually doing so. The Dark Lord had not killed him, but had not allowed any healing spells to be performed either. The Dark Lord liked for his lessons to make a lasting impression, after all. Bellatrix had only just recently been able to sneak in the Pain Away potion, much to her own peril. Now, the draught was starting to work, and Lucius rolled on his side and fell into a fitful sleep.

The night he had escaped from Azkaban had been the first sign that things were perhaps starting to go sour in the Voldemort camp. Narcissa had arrived promptly, escorted by a half dozen Death Eaters both old and new. They had worked their way through the Ministry Police now guarding Azkaban in short order, but as they had tried to escape the prison, they had become inexplicably lost. This operation had been planned to the most minute detail, and no one could understand what had happened. It was if the building had somehow shifted beneath their feet without their knowledge. They had finally found their way out, but the delay had given the Ministry ample time to recover. As they exited through the front entrance of the prison, they were greeted by the arrival of multitudes of fresh Ministry Police and Aurors. Several of the Death Eaters had been captured or recaptured right then, and some of them had been killed. Lucius and Narcissa had somehow managed to survived and arrived at the ancient oak tree hiding the Portkey back to Voldemort’s compound in its’ trunk. That had been when things had gone seriously awry.

Narcissa refused to grab the Portkey. “Lucius,” she had yelled over the din, “we have to Apparate back to the Manor and get Draco. We can’t leave him!” Her eyes had been wide and filled with panic. Over her shoulder, Lucius counted six Aurors and at least fifty Ministry Police advancing rapidly. They were still out of spell range, but they would be on them shortly.

“Have you gone mad?” he had bellowed at his wife. “There is no time! Get over here, now!”

For once in her life, Narcissa had stood her ground. “NO!” she screamed at him. “I won’t leave him!”

At that moment, Lucius felt the wind of a spell brush by his hair. He looked at his wife; she was still staring wildly at him. He lifted his wand in one swift motion, pointed it at his wife’s heart, and cried “Avada Kedavra!”

Green light engulfed Narcissa and Lucius watched as she fell languidly to the ground, as if falling through water. Her face still bore the panicked expression she had been wearing when Lucius had decided to kill her. He had not even yelled so much as a warning. Lucius was still looking at her, lying there with her hair fanned around her face and her eyes wide, thinking that he had always found her so beautiful, when another spell swept past him, even closer than the last. He pointed his wand at his dead wife again and yelled “Incendio!”. Narcissa’ body burst into flames. Just as one of the Aurors raised his wand and prepared to curse Lucius, he grabbed for the Portkey, a small, stuffed toy in the figure of a black cat with green eyes, and was jerked backwards to Voldemort’s compound.

He had been welcomed back by the Dark Lord with open arms. It was a badge of loyalty to spend time in Azkaban, so Lucius was looked on with more respect than ever before. They were hidden deep in the hills of Southern Albania in an abandoned mosque, near the border of Greece. They had been in the middle of a planning session for their second attack on Britain when the news of Draco’s arrest and subsequent confession had arrived. Draco had revealed several of the Dark Lord’s key spies in and out of the Ministry of Magic, as well as delivered the deathblow to the name of Lucius Malfoy. He had single-handedly set back their plans for months, and effectively shut down their information network. Lucius was outraged. He had thought that after all his careful training and care that Draco would have been able to hold against the Ministry until he could be rescued and instead he had folded like paper. He has always been weak, Lucius thought to himself, just like his mother. It had not mattered to Lucius that Draco was only a fifteen-year-old boy who had been fed huge amounts of one of the strongest potions concocted in the wizarding world. It had not mattered to Lucius that Draco had fought the potion so vehemently that he had made himself violently ill. Lucius felt that Draco should have done what he himself would have done; died before he ever allowed himself to be taken into custody in the first place.

The Dark Lord had, of course, been furious. His carefully laid plans had to be redone from scratch. He had called Lucius into his war room and given him his mission, a way for him to redeem the Malfoy name. Lucius accepted his mission without hesitation.

Draco must die, and Lucius would be the one to do it.

Lucius, Bellatrix and two new Death Eaters were sent to live in a small Muggle village just outside of Hogsmeade. They set up house in a run down, two bedroom cottage, and the new Death Eaters would scourge the town daily waiting for signs of Draco, who they assumed would be relatively unprotected. They had expected that their mission would take two weeks at the most.

But there were several things that the Dark Lord did not know. Due to the information that Draco had given the Ministry, their best candidate for a spy at Hogwarts had been forced into hiding, and they had not been able to establish another at the school. They did not know about Draco’s relationship with Harry, and that Harry was in no mood these days to venture off the castle grounds. They had no knowledge of any of the developments at Hogwarts at all.

The two weeks dragged into months with no sign of Draco. The Dark Lord, and Lucius, were becoming highly impatient. Lucius had sent his son the letter telling him that he and Narcissa were close by to try and spur him out of the castle to search for them, but Draco had not appeared. Lucius, despite Bellatrix’s delicious distractions, was becoming increasingly restless and bored. He was not a man accustomed to doing nothing. He had spotted a Muggle shop that sold spirits not far from the cottage on one of his nighttime wanderings, and decided to risk a trip there for some scotch, thinking a nice drunk would take his mind off things. He had lost a considerable amount of weight and shaved his head by way of disguise, and felt confident that none of the idiot Muggles in the village would recognize him, even though he had been shown on the Muggle news frequently since his escape. But the Muggle in the liquor store, displaying more sense than Lucius would have ever thought possible, had recognized him and informed the authorities. The day after, Ministry Police, led by Mad Eye Moody and Kingsley Shackleford, had descended on the cottage. The Death Eaters managed to escape, except for one of the new initiates, and Lucius and Bellatrix had killed Mad Eye Moody and several police. But the Dark Lord had considered the mission a total loss.

Lucius rolled over in his sleep and moaned. Bellatrix ran a cool hand over his forehead and muttered a Calming Spell. “Get your strength, love. He’s sending you back to England just as soon as you’re better. The brat has to go.” Lucius only moaned again, more loudly than before.

Harry and Draco had settled into their new relationship nicely, and were getting along splendidly, despite spending every free second they had together. In fact, it seemed the more time they spent together, the better they got along. They had gotten into a little bit of trouble for their public display in the Great Hall that day, but they had promised to be more discreet, and the whole affair had blown over.

They had had only one argument, and that was when Draco had walked up on Harry receiving a hug from Luna Lovegood. It was after a Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, which Gryffindor won, of course, and Luna had just been giving Harry a congratulatory squeeze when Draco had come around the corner. It had reminded Draco far too much of the day when he had first seen Harry lean over and kiss Luna on the cheek outside the Quidditch stadium all those months ago, and he had lost his temper immediately and totally. Harry had stepped between Luna and the hex that Draco had cast at her and had prevented it from harming her by absorbing it, but she had to be talked to for a long time before she agreed not to tell on Draco. He was on probation, and he would have lost his Prefect’s badge for the infraction. Finally, Harry was able to persuade her to drop it, and she had left, still in a huff. Draco had accused Harry of having an affair with the girl, and Harry had laughed so hard that Draco had been forced to realize how ridiculous he had been, but he was still very angry. Another fight had quickly ensued when Harry insisted that Draco seek out the Ravenclaw and apologize to her. Draco had refused, saying that he had only been protecting what was his. Harry had reacted badly at being referred to as property. The fight had escalated to name calling, then shoving, then rolling around on the grass, then angry sex in the boy’s locker room. After it was all over, Draco was willing to compromise; he gave Harry permission to apologize to Luna for him, after adding the stipulation that there was to be no physical contact between the two.

Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione were all curled up in their pajamas on the big couch in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room one Thursday evening with nothing to do for a change. Harry’s after school lessons had been called off for some mysterious reason, and they had just returned from supper, pleasantly full and somewhat sleepy, even though it was quite early. Harry was thinking about what he was going to buy Draco for his birthday, which was only a week away, as Draco reminded him at least ten times a day. He had no idea as Draco seemed to have everything. He had been granted access to his trust and had been ordering custom made clothing, shoes, new bed linens, flowers, towels, candy, anything and everything you could imagine. They were all going to Diagon Alley with Remus this Saturday to look for gifts and Harry was stressing about it quite a bit. He wanted something special. Draco and Hermione were spending the day at the spa there, while Remus, Ron and Harry shopped. Ron was giving Draco hell about having actually admitted that he was dying for a manicure when the common room door opened, and Professor McGonagall entered.

“Potter, Weasley, you have some visitors in Dumbledore’s office. I suggest you get up and make yourselves presentable, but as quickly as possible. We’ll be expecting you in fifteen minutes,” she had said curtly, “and Mr. Malfoy, doesn’t your house need their Prefect”?

“They don’t listen to me anyway,” he pouted. It was a lie as everyone knew that all the Slytherins, except maybe Draco’s friends, lived in constant fear of him. Truth was, they were so scared of him he only had to show up for lights out each night and let his presence be known. They behaved out of fear of what he might do to them if Slytherin lost anymore house points. At this point, they were almost in negative numbers, and Draco was determined to keep what points they had.

“Well, do check on them anyway since Potter will be detached from your side for a minute.” She turned her attention back to Harry and Ron. “Fifteen minutes boys,” she added and then swept quickly from the room. Harry could not help but notice she had been trying to suppress a smile.

Harry groaned. He and Draco had been lying in their usual position, with Draco leaning back between Harry’s legs and resting his back against the Gryffindor’s chest, and he did not want to move. “What is this about?” he said grumpily, looking at Ron.

“Dunno, Harry. Must be something about Quidditch though. That’s the only thing we do together that Dumbledore could possibly want to talk to us about. But why would we need to look presentable for that?”

Harry grimaced. “Or Potions. But we haven’t done anything in there lately, have we?” Harry seemed to be thinking. “You don’t think Snape could have figured out it was me that magically carved ‘Severus loves Draco’ on his writing desk, do you?” he grinned evilly.

Ron grinned back, looking at Harry in awe. “You did that?”

Harry nodded gleefully. “What good is secret information if you can’t use it against someone?” he asked. He had told Ron and Hermione all about what he had seen inside Snape’s head.

Draco hit him hard in the arm. “You arse! Leave the man alone! I hope that is what it’s about, you hateful prick. Really Harry, I’m beginning to think the Sorting Hat was right, you should have been in Slytherin.”

At that, Harry stood up abruptly, dumping Draco in the floor. A few of the Gryffindors giggled. Draco stood up, the picture of indignation, obviously ready to launch himself at Harry, but Harry grabbed him first and kissed him on the mouth. It turned into a long, deep kiss, as any kiss between them was wont to do. Ron and Hermione looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“We’ve only got fifteen minutes, you know, Harry,” Ron reminded him.

Draco and Harry reluctantly separated, all thoughts of pummeling one another gone, and said their good byes. As he was leaving, Draco made it a point to flip Ron off. Ron stuck his tongue out at him in return. Hermione clucked at them. Harry laughed and threw his arm around Ron’s shoulder and both boys made their way upstairs and changed back into their school uniforms and made for Dumbledore’s office.

They arrived exactly sixteen minutes later to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and two strange men, one in a business suit with a large briefcase and one in a black sporting robe, sitting in Dumbledore’s office. When they entered, Mrs. Weasley was on them in a flash, gripping them in her patented double hug, which she had perfected over many years with the twins.

“Oh, Ron, Harry, we are so, so proud of you!” she squealed. Her eyes were misting up the way they always did when she was proud of her children.

“Mum, get off!” Ron said as he pushed her aside. Ron was blushing slightly, but Harry was delighted to see them.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked them as he hugged Mr. Weasley, who was grinning as broadly as Mrs. Weasley.

“Sit down, boys, and we’ll get to that,” replied Dumbledore as he motioned them to two chairs across from the strange men. Harry noticed nervously that the man in the sporting robe was looking him up and down with greed in his eyes. “If I may, let me introduce Mr. Kenneth Hopewell, manager for the Montrose Magpies,” the man in the business suit extended his hand, “and Mr. Keller Witts, coach for the same,” the man in the sporting robe now stood and pumped Ron’s hand first, then Harry’s. “Been waiting to meet you for a while now, Mr. Potter,” he said breathlessly. Harry smiled politely and sat down, as did Ron.

Ron and Harry looked at each other in total confusion. The Magpies were the best Quidditch team in the league. What were they doing sending representatives here?

No one spoke for a moment, and the silence became uncomfortable. Finally, Mr. Hopewell spoke up.

“Well, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I guess you’re wondering what is going on here. I would have contacted the two of you directly, but since you are under aged, I had to work through your parents, who asked me to surprise you with our news. As you may or may not know, every season the Magpies send out scouts to all the wizarding schools in Europe looking for new talent. We’ve been watching you for sometime now, Mr. Potter. We got a bit of a scare last year when you sat out. We were quite afraid you wouldn’t come back,” the man smiled.

“I didn’t sit out,” Harry said, heart beginning to beat rapidly in his chest, “I was banned.”

“Ah, yes, Ludo Bagman told us all about the unfortunate incident. He tried very hard to pull strings for you within the Ministry, but at the time the environment, was, er, less than favorable. At any rate, we still had scouts out last year, and that is, of course, when we discovered you, Mr. Weasley.”

Ron’s eyes were huge and he pointed to himself in disbelief.

“Yes, you,” laughed Mr. Hopewell, “I must say, your turnabout was astounding. Your perseverance and huge skill improvement is what impressed our scout so much.”

“Thank you,” Ron said. He sounded positively giddy.

“As I am sure you know, the Magpies have an illustrious history in the British and Irish League. We have won the British and Irish League cup a total of thirty three times, and are twice European Champions, but it has been many years since we’ve held that honor. Too many, we feel.”

“Hear, hear!” said Mr. Witts with feeling. Mr. Hopewell shot him a look. The coach immediately quieted down, and Hopewell continued.

“That’s where you young men come in. We’ve been speaking with your parents for a couple of days now, and we understand that you have another year left to your education, so we are here to see if we can work out some sort of arrangement for you that fits both our needs. We at the Magpies believe that with your help, we can capture the European Championship at least once or twice more.”

Ron and Harry looked at each other, eyes wide and huge smiles on their faces.

“Mr. Weasley, we are prepared to offer you a position on our farm team. We believe that you are a huge raw talent in the making, but tending goal in the professional league requires far more skill than it does at the amateur level. We have some of the best trainers in the league who are anxious to work with you. After watching your continued improvement over the last one and a half seasons, we believe that you will be a great asset to our team in a couple of years. Your mother, er, parents, I mean, have made it clear that they will not permit you to leave off your education, however. So we have worked out an arrangement for you where you will begin training with us next fall, and we will provide private tutors for you, with an approved curriculum from your Headmaster, to ensure that you finish your learning as well as become a great Quidditch player. That is, if you find our salary and benefits offer agreeable.”

Ron’s mouth had dropped open in amazement. Mrs. Weasley was dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief.

“I’ll bloody do it for free!” Ron cried. “Harry, did you hear him? I’m going to play Quidditch, for the bloody Magpies!”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, Ron, I heard.”

Mr. Hopewell smiled and handed Ron some papers out of his briefcase. “Your parents have looked these over and found them to be in order, but we want you take some time with them and see if we have overlooked anything that would make your time with the Magpies more enjoyable. Please feel free to have a Law Wizard review them if you wish. We just need an answer from you sometime before close of business next Friday.”

Ron took the papers in his hands as if they were holy relics.

“Thought you were a Cannons fan, mate?” Harry teased under his breath. Ron could only look at him in shocked silence.

It was Mr. Witts who spoke next, far less polished and far more excited than Mr. Hopewell. He seemed to be able to hold himself back no longer. “We want you too, Mr. Potter. But we’re sending you directly to team level. If possible, we’d like you to be our starting Seeker next season.”

Harry’s mouth dropped nearly to his knees. “What?” he said quietly, “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

Ron clapped him on the back. “Harry! That’s bloody wicked!”

Mr. Hopewell shot Mr. Witts a dirty look. “No, Mr. Potter, you heard us correctly. You’re the most exciting player we’ve seen in quite some time. Years in fact. We believe that with just a little time to adjust to the team’s method of play, you could lead us to the League Championship next year. We, of course, have made provisions for continuing your education as well. Your Headmaster has informed us that the only class you will still need after this year is Potions, so we have already received commitment from a qualified Potions Master to teach you. You will start training this summer, and, as Mr. Witts expressed, if things go well, which we have no reason to believe they won’t, you’ll be starting Seeker next fall.”

Harry’s head was spinning. He still had one year left at Hogwarts, what were they talking about he only needed Potions? And he had always wanted to be an Auror, but thinking about it now, he’d really had enough of fighting dark wizards for a while. And what about that? What if Voldemort showed up and killed him this summer? And Draco still had another year at Hogwarts, what would he say?

Dumbledore smiled gently. “You are wondering about some things, I see, Harry. Let me explain.” Harry had forgotten his mind was pretty much an open book to Dumbledore unless he was working hard to close it. “Your after hours lessons have made it pretty much ridiculous to continue your course work here at Hogwarts next year. Except for Potions, you will leave this year with the full qualifications of an Auror, and then some. N.E.W.T.S seem sort of a moot point, don’t they? But I cannot give you a degree unless you finish up Potions. As for the other problem on your mind, the Magpies are aware of your special situation, and there is a provision in your contract for any emergencies that may arise.”

Like I have to run out and save the world, Harry thought irritably.

“Yes, just like that,” Dumbledore said with a wry smile. “Also, you can Apparate now, so I don’t think that being with Draco would be any more of a problem for you than it is now. I am more than willing to make concessions in that regard. The village of Hogsmeade has several affordable flats for rent, or I can try to get special permission from the Ministry to teach Draco to Apparate a bit early, and the two of you can live somewhere else. I have checked the Hogwarts charter and there is no rule that seventh years must live on campus. And if there was Harry, I would change it.” Dumbledore was looking at him with deep affection. Harry could see that Dumbledore wanted him to have this if he wanted it.

“I, I don’t know what to say,” Harry stammered. It seemed too easy and he wasn’t particularly used to things being easy for him.

Mr. Witts sat up on the edge of his chair. “We would get an apartment for you and your girlfriend, if you’d like Harry. We can do that, right?” he said, looking at Hopewell. Before the other man could answer, he carried on. “And we’ll get her tutors as well. Whatever it takes. And if the two of you get married any time soon, all of your benefits will cover her, and all of her travel expenses will be paid for by the team. We will do whatever it takes, Mr. Potter. Please, do not hesitate to ask.”

Mr. Hopewell was looking at the coach as if he wanted to strangle him. “We’ll certainly entertain any requests that either of you have,” he said diplomatically to both Harry and Ron. “Here are some papers for you, Mr. Potter. If we’ve left anything out, please let us know. I didn’t know that you had someone you were so serious about. The Magpies believe that family is very important and are always willing to make provisions.”

Harry was grinning from ear to ear. “Well, it’s a boyfriend, actually, so the whole married thing doesn’t really apply, but thank you.” And when he gets the rest of his money back, Harry thought, he could probably buy the Magpies if he wanted, so I don’t think the lure of paid travel expenses will be that big of a deal to him. Still he could not wait to tell Draco. He was ignoring the disapproving look on Mrs. Weasley’s face at the mention of his boyfriend. He knew they had gotten the letter about his relationship by now, but they had not had the opportunity to discuss it yet, and Harry felt a small wave of dread rise in his stomach.

Mr. Hopewell was looking at him a bit strangely. “Um, well, yes, I understand that maybe you’re a bit young to be considering marriage at the moment, but should you decide that, what did you say his name was?”

“Draco,” Harry said, still grinning fit to split.

“Yes, Draco, unusual name isn’t it?”

“Malfoy. Used to play for that other house. Slytherin. Seeker. Not bad, either.” Witts said.

Hopewell shot him another look. “Anyway, should you decide that you do want to marry Draco one day, just rest assured that he too, will be part of the Magpie family. That goes for you too, Mr. Weasley. Your parents tell me you have a lovely girlfriend.”

Harry was looking confused now. “But Draco and I can’t get married.” The wizards in the room looked at him with amusement. A light went on in his head. “Can we?”

Ron clapped him on the shoulder again. “Mate, don’t mean to sound like Hermione, but it wouldn’t hurt you to read a book about the wizarding world and its’ laws once in a while.”

Harry’s mouth dropped again, and his mind was instantly filled with one thought. I can marry Draco.

Mr. Hopewell handed the papers to Harry, who took them distractedly. As great as this news was, it didn’t compare to the news he had just learned about wizard marriage laws.

The men got up, congratulated the two boys again, and quickly departed, reminding them to respond to their offers within the week. As they left, Witts turned to Harry again and whispered “Whatever you want, Potter. Don’t hesitate to ask,” he said with a wink. Mr. Hopewell smiled painfully at Harry as he yanked the coach out the door.

When he was sure the two men had gone, Ron turned to the others and yelled “Holy shit!” at the top of his lungs. Everyone broke into laughter.

Chapter Text

Everyone congratulated Harry and Ron for a few minutes, gave them both hugs and resumed their seats. Everyone caught up on Order business, at least what they were willing to discuss in front of Ron and Harry, and shortly after Professor McGonagall said her good night and was off. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

Ron stood, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’ve got to go back to the Tower and tell Hermione. She won’t believe this! Harry, you coming?”

Harry quickly stood to go, thinking he might get out this situation without discussing Draco and Christmas at all. “Yeah, good idea. I need to tell Dra…er, someone too.” He was no longer so caught up in his emotions that he could casually fling Draco’s name about.

He had said enough, however. Mrs. Weasley snorted loudly and glared at Arthur. “Now’d be a good time, don’t you think?” she said in a loud whisper.

Harry’s stomach dropped. He wasn’t going to make it out after all. Mrs. Weasley’s face was turning a light shade of pink as she turned her attention back to Harry and folded her arms over her chest. Ron, intimately familiar with the look she was wearing, stood solidly beside Harry.

“Er, Harry, Molly and I received your letter the other day, concerning your, er, Christmas plans this year.”

“I think I’ll wait for you, Harry.” Ron said, moving even closer to him. Harry almost hugged him from gratitude.

“Your plans are very, er, er,..” Mr. Weasley paused for only a moment, but it was enough.

“Harry! I am only saying this for your own benefit, love. I think you’re setting yourself up for a huge heartbreak! You, of all people Harry, know what kind of people the Malfoys are! He can’t be up to any good, Harry. He’s been trying to hurt you, all of you, for the past five years. Really, Harry, come to your senses.”

As much as Harry loved Mrs. Weasley, he felt himself growing angry. “Mum Weasley,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady, “please don’t talk about Draco that way. You don’t know him.”

Mrs. Weasley rolled her eyes and rung her hands. “Harry, all you need to know is who his father is. He can’t have grown up with a man like that and be anything but horrible.”

Ron put his hand on Harry’s shoulder in support. He quickly drew it back as something like an electric shock passed through his arm. He looked at Harry’s face. It was hard to say who looked scarier, Harry or his mum.

“Harry, don’t. She’s only trying to protect you.” Ron whispered.

Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, hands closing and opening at his sides. “Mrs. Weasley, I know what people think of the Malfoys. I used to think it as well. Lucius Malfoy is a demon, that’s the only way to describe him. Growing up with him did affect Draco terribly, but not how you think. If you don’t want to come to Grimmauld Place for Christmas, fine, I understand. But it will not change the fact that I am in love with Draco. And I will not leave him here alone for the holidays.” He had managed to keep his voice both down and even, but his eyes were glowing like lava.

Mrs. Weasley stared at him and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off at once by Mr. Weasley. “Molly, enough. You’re not doing anything but causing Harry pain, and we agreed before we came here that we wouldn’t do that.”

She rounded on him. Ron and Harry looked at each other in shock. Mr. Weasley never stood up to his wife. “Arthur Weasley!” she yelled, “How dare you! Do you want to see him hurt even more when that evil, spoiled brat breaks his heart?”

Mr. Weasley was turning red now. “Molly, I said stop it! Do you trust Harry?”

Mrs. Weasley looked hurt. “Of course I trust him. He’s a wonderful boy. It’s not him I am worried about.”

Mr. Weasley softened a bit, but his voice was still firm. “If you trust him, Molly, you have to trust his decisions. He’s almost an adult now, he has a right to make up his own mind about these things.”

Mrs. Weasley lost it. “He’s sixteen years old! How can you-“

Again, Mr. Weasley interjected. “We were engaged when we were sixteen, and we had not lived through half of what Harry has. I’d say we made a fairly good decision,” he softly reminded her. She looked at him sadly. “Love is always a gamble, Molly. Harry has just as much chance at getting his heart broken as anyone else.”

Mrs. Weasley looked down at her hands and started to cry. “He’s just been through so much….”

Harry stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around the crying woman. It did not escape her that he was far taller than she was now, and so very strong. She cried harder and clutched him so tightly he could scarcely breath, but he only smiled and kissed her on top of her head. “Mum Weasley, if you could just meet him, see us together, I’m sure you’d change your mind.”

“Why don’t we go now?” said Ron, who thought things were just fine since they were hugging, and was clearly still dying to tell Hermione.

Harry beamed at him. It was a brilliant idea. Draco would be highly pissed off he knew, because he would have no time to get his guard up. And neither would Mrs. Weasley. “Yes, that is a great idea. I’m sure Hermione and Ginny would be hurt if you didn’t at least stop by and say hello,” he said as he pulled at Mrs. Weasley’s hand.

She looked like you could knock her over with a feather. “Oh, no, Harry, I don’t think so. I’m not dressed…”

Harry cut her off. “It’s just Draco. He’s probably not dressed either,” in fact, when I last saw him, he had his school robe thrown over his pajamas Harry thought to himself and swallowed. He is going to kill me for this. He looked imploringly at Mr. Weasley, who seemed to catch on quickly.

Arthur grabbed Molly’s other hand. “Yes, Ron, that is a wonderful idea. I’m, er, looking forward to meeting him.”

Before she could protest, they were pulling her out the door.

Dumbledore had watched the whole scene with great amusement, but he had something he had to tell Harry. He had just gotten word from the Ministry earlier that day about the raid that had almost captured Lucius Malfoy and had resulted in Mad Eye Moody’s death. He was still deeply disturbed that Lucius had managed to be that close to Hogwarts for that long without any of them knowing. The Order would have to step up its’ defenses, even if it had been a quiet year.

“Harry,” he called out, “a word if you please.”

Harry walked back to the Headmaster’s desk and looked at Dumbledore with the most troubling expression Dumbledore had ever seen on his face. There was happiness there, but on top of it was worry and fear. Harry was far too used to losing things he loved, Dumbledore thought.

“Yes, Professor?” he said cautiously.

Dumbledore lost heart at the tremulous sound in Harry’s voice. “You and Draco come and see me after you’ve talked so we can decide what the best course of action is for next year.”

Harry’s face broke out in a beatific grin. “If he ever speaks to me again after what I’m about to do,” he replied.

Dumbledore could only smile weakly as he watched them all leave his office. He would let them be happy for tonight. It would all come crashing down soon enough. Though he couldn’t explain it, he had instinctually felt that for some time now.

In the hallway, Mrs. Weasley was still putting up feeble protests, but when she finally realized that no one was letting her out of this, she began to quietly pat her hair and adjust her clothing.

“How do I look?” she asked them feebly as they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Harry kissed her on the forehead. “You look beautiful. Now stop.”

“I remember you!” cried the Fat Lady as Molly and Arthur approached. “Glad to see you still together after all these years. I must tell Violet, you were always one of our favorite couples.”

Harry laughed as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley actually blushed. His laughter was cut short by the Fat Lady.

“You, on the other hand, have horrible taste. He’s pretty enough, but he’s a Slytherin, for goodness sake! Here, in Gryffindor, all the time! Constantly in and out, so snide, so-“

“Murtlap bud!” Harry cried and the Fat Lady promptly swung open.

“He’s not here right now, thank goodness!” she called after them as they entered the common room.

“Oh, well then, we’ll just say a quick hello to Hermione and Ginny and head home then,” Mrs. Weasley added.

“I don’t think so,” was Harry’s reply as he dragged her forward.

Ginny and Hermione were milling around Mr. and Mrs. Weasley when the Fat Lady swung open, apparently arguing with someone. Harry groaned.

“I may be coarse, as you say, but at least I won’t be a fat, old, haranguing hag for all of eternity!” It was Draco. He and the Fat Lady were hurling insults at each other again. He turned and immediately stopped in his tracks at the sight of all the Weasleys. He was still wearing his school robe thrown over his pajamas and he looked exactly like Harry had pictured him in his mind. An animal caught in a trap. His eyes darted quickly from Mr. to Mrs. Weasley, and then settled on Harry. Harry recognized that hateful glare at once, even though it had been quite a while since he’d seen it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were seeing your family tonight, Harry. I’ll just come back….much later.” He practically hissed the last two words.

Harry leapt forward and grabbed his arm. If looks could have killed, Harry would have been stone dead. “I didn’t know I was seeing them tonight either, love. Please don’t go, I’ve got loads to tell you.” Harry was looking at him with all the love he could muster, but Draco did not budge.

“Yes, actually, we’ve come to celebrate, and to finally meet you.” It was Mr. Weasley again, walking forward and extending his hand to Draco. Harry gaped. What had gotten into him tonight? “I don’t think you and I were ever properly introduced. I’m Arthur Weasley.”

For a second, time stood still. The moment dragged out for so long that Harry actually thought Draco was not going to take Mr. Weasley’s hand and all would be lost. But then, in that beautifully elegant Draco Malfoy way, the Slytherin gathered himself and shook Mr. Weasley’s hand firmly.

“No, I don’t believe we ever have. I’m Draco Malfoy. It’s nice to finally meet you, Harry talks about you all the time.”

Mr. Weasley smiled, his face the picture of relief. “Yes, well, Harry’s only just recently mentioned you, so we have a lot of catching up to do. Please, come meet my wife, won’t you? Molly?” Mr. Weasley turned towards the others. Harry mouthed the words ‘thank you’ at Draco and tried to take his hand. Draco jerked it away and mouthed ‘fuck you Potter’ back at Harry. But he moved forward to meet Mrs. Weasley, and for now, Harry felt like that was all he could hope for. He’d deal with Draco’s anger later. He smiled wickedly remembering the boy’s locker room incident at the end of he and Draco’s last fight, and followed behind him down the stairs.

Draco affixed his most angelic smile as he approached Mrs. Weasley. Harry could have sworn he heard a few of the girls in the room sigh. Ginny went beet red, and he could have sworn that Hermione and even Mrs. Weasley flushed a bit. Draco hardly ever smiled like that, and it was quite a sight to behold. Harry nearly swooned, but caught himself as Draco extended his hand.

“Ah yes, Mum Weasley. The one and true owner of Harry’s heart,” he crooned as he took Mrs. Weasley’s hand and planted a very gentlemanly kiss on the back of it. Harry almost laughed. Draco was devastatingly charming when he wanted to be.

If Mrs. Weasley had been blinded by Draco’s smile, she had come back to her senses now. “Yes, nice to meet you,” she said. Her voice was cordial, but her eyes were icy.

Draco never faltered. There was no one he had ever failed to seduce, given time, and he began looking at Mrs. Weasley as just a particularly hard case. She’s going to take more work than Ron, he thought idly. Even as mad as he was at Harry at the moment, and he was furious, he knew he’d have to make peace with the woman in front of him if there was any hope of peace in his future with Harry. Provided I don’t kill him later tonight, and allow him a future, he thought.

Ron could no longer stand it. “Harry and I got signed to the Montrose Magpies tonight!” he announced with no fanfare at all. “We start next year!” He was bouncing again, Harry noticed with amusement.

Draco rounded on him, confusion in his eyes. “What?” he whispered. The girls had erupted in squeals.

Harry seized Draco’s moment of unbalance and wrapped his arms around him. “It’s true,” was all he could think to say. He pulled back from Draco and saw all sorts of things in his eyes: hurt, confusion, fear, and somewhere underneath, hope. He pulled him close again. “Don’t worry, Dumbledore’s going to work it all out so you and I can be together next year. I promise. I would never leave you Draco, never.” Draco had finally embraced Harry, but it was tighter and more desperate than Harry would have liked. “Not in five million years Draco, not in an infinity,” he said as he stroked Draco’s long hair. Draco’s grip loosened considerably.

Draco pulled away and Harry was actually relieved to see some of the spark of anger return to his eyes. They had gone from a dark stormy grey back to their usual clear color again in an instant. “You’re still not off the hook, Potter,” he hissed under his breath. “I’m in my night clothes, for Merlin’s sake.” He turned and walked towards Ron, hand outstretched. “Congratulations, Weas, er, Ron”!

Ron took his hand, and to everyone’s surprise, pulled Draco into a warm embrace. Over Draco’s shoulder, he could see the look of suspicion on his mother’s face. “Welcome to the family,” he whispered in Draco’s ear as he released him. He let out a loud, bark like laugh when he saw the stunned look on Draco’s face. “What’s wrong, Draco?” he asked innocently. Draco just stared at him and straightened his rumpled undershirt. Ron turned to his father. “Dad, let’s celebrate somewhere. It’s still pretty early, and tomorrow’s Friday, so if we stay out too late, we only have to suffer through one day. Come on, this is major, this is huge. We can’t all just say good night and go to bed.”

Mr. Weasley grinned. “You are absolutely right, Ron! Where should we go?”

“The Three Broomsticks!” Harry, Ron and Ginny all cried in unison. Everyone but Draco laughed.

“Well, you all have a lovely time. I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess, Harry.”

Harry moved towards Draco, but Ron got there first. He grabbed Draco in a headlock and ruffed his hair. “Not on your life, you prat. Harry’s not celebrating the biggest night of his life without you. Go get dressed in something stunning, you wanker.”

Draco stood upright and hastily smoothed out his hair. His face was a deep crimson and he was looking at Ron as if he was mad. “I can’t believe you did that!” he cried.

Ron laughed and made scooting motions at Draco with his hands. “Hurry up, Malfoy. We’re waiting.”

Ginny and Hermione ran to the girl’s dorm to change, and Draco made his way up to Harry’s room. Mrs. Weasley’s eyes followed him, half shut into little slits.

“Why’s he going to your dorm, Harry?” she asked.

Harry blushed. “Er, um, he, er, um,” he stammered.

Ron cut in. “Mum, they’re dating. Malfoy practically lives here. He changed into his pajamas up there today, so he’s going to put his clothes back on.”

Mrs. Weasley looked like she was about to go apoplectic, Mr. Weasley blushed and began examining the rug intently, and Harry looked at Ron as if he could have killed him with one blow. Ron shrugged, nonplussed. Before anyone could say a word, the girls reappeared. It was several minutes before Draco came back down, his hair shining like silk. He’d obviously spent the extra time brushing it back into place after Ron’s assault.

As they all filed through the portrait hole, Harry made sure he and Draco were last. He reached out and tried to take Draco’s hand again, only to be rebuffed. Draco glared at him. “Not anytime soon, Potter,” he spat. Harry whipped out his puppy dog eyes and stopped on the common room side of the portrait hole, pointedly refusing to leave the room. On the other side of the portrait he could hear Ginny ask “Where’s Harry and Draco?”. That finally did it. Hissing between his teeth, Draco took Harry’s hand. Harry smiled happily and followed him out the door.

Chapter Text

The Weasleys and Hermione were walking just ahead of Draco and Harry on the moonlit road to Hogsmeade. Draco was still systematically trying to wrench his hand free of Harry’s, but Harry was holding it in a vise like grip.

“Let go, you moron. My hand’s going numb!” Draco snapped as he tried again to yank his hand free.

Harry yanked back and Draco winced. “Stop acting like a baby. Don’t be mad at me, please?” Harry pleaded. “It wasn’t even my idea to do this!”

“Yeah, maybe, but you still bloody agreed to it!” Draco was glaring at Harry angrily.

“Look, I thought it might be better to take you by surprise-“

“By surprise! I was in my pajamas Harry! That is so undignified! It’s so bloody, just,…”

“Human?” Harry ventured. “I’m sorry you were in your night clothes, Draco, I am. But I wanted them to meet you before you’d had a chance to put on all your Malfoy airs and such-“

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Draco yelled.

Ahead of them, everyone came to a stop.

“Harry dear, is everything all right?” Mrs. Weasley called. They had fallen quite behind it seemed.

“Yes, Mum Weasley! Draco tripped! Has a bad temper! Yells a lot!” Harry called cheerily. “Keep your voice down!” he hissed at Draco. “I told her once she saw us together, she’d change her mind about things, and you have to go and play right into her hands!”

Draco glared at him. “Fine,” he said under his breath. “Yes, sorry! I have a terrible temper sometimes! Won’t happen again!” he called. They could see everyone start to move ahead again. “Now, what the fuck was that comment about Malfoy airs?”

Harry sighed. “Draco, look, I know you just think you’re being all refined and whatever, but others tend to find you, well, a bit snotty, really. And the Weasleys are not exactly formal, in case you haven’t picked up on it.” As if to prove his point, Ron whooped loudly, followed by a howl of laughter from Ginny. “And God only knows what Mrs. Weasley would have made up in her head by Christmas. Really Draco, I thought this was the best way. I am really, really, really sorry it made you so angry.”

Draco smirked at him. “Angry, humiliated, furious, pissed….and besides, I am a bit snotty, Harry. Get used to it.”

“Oh, I’m used to it by now, thank you. But can you just try to be your usual lovely self until they leave? I’d like for her to see why I love you so much at least once before she goes.” Harry didn’t think a pleading look would hurt things, so he gave Draco his best one.

Draco seemed to soften ever so slightly. “If I behave, will you at least loosen your grip on my hand? You seriously are hurting me.”

“Will you behave?” Harry asked, loosening his hand.

Draco grumbled. “I suppose. But only until they leave. Then, you are in for it.”

Harry smirked in the darkness. I look forward to it, he thought to himself.

“Will you guys come ON already?” Ron cried. “We’re nearly there!”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Well, what brings all of you here tonight?” asked Madame Rosmerta merrily when they entered the door. She seemed surprised to see Harry and Draco holding hands.
“We’re celebrating!” said Arthur Weasley happily. “Ron and Harry got offers to play for the Montrose Magpies tonight!”

A cheer went up in the Three Broomsticks and both Ron and Harry blushed furiously. Despite himself, Draco leaned over and kissed Harry on the cheek. He even squeezed his hand affectionately. Several of the patrons looked shocked, but in a happy way.

Madame Rosmerta threw her hands up. “That’s wonderful! Have a seat! First round of drinks are on the house! And yes, Draco Malfoy, tonight you can have a shot of scotch.” She added with a wink. Draco smiled widely.

“Do you have the Bowmore 17?” Draco asked excitedly. Harry couldn’t help but smile at him, even though they were suppose to be mad at each other. Scotch was one of Draco’s favorite things.

They all assembled themselves at the large, round table and Ron began recounting the details of the evening for Hermione, Draco, and Ginny. Drinks and food were ordered and before long, everyone’s first round was sitting before them. Draco was more relaxed now that they were here, and was leaning lightly against Harry, still holding his hand, voluntarily now, under the table. He took a sip of his scotch, smiled in satisfaction, and held it out to Harry. “You have to try this.”

Harry took a sip and scowled. “Ugh, Draco, that’s horrible.”

Draco laughed at him and took the glass “More for me then, I guess.” He reached over and brushed the fringe out of Harry’s eyes and smiled. Harry, still spitting from the scotch, tried to smile back. Harry noticed Mrs. Weasley looking at them, but could not read her expression. Everything is going to be fine, everything is going to be fine, Harry chanted over and over in his head.

Ron was getting to the part of his story about the offers he and Harry had been made by the Magpies. He was laughing about how Coach Witts had practically promised Harry anything he wanted if he’d just sign the documents they had left.

“So, wait,” said Draco, “you guys didn’t actually sign anything yet?”

“No, mate, they just wrote us out offers. They’re sweet too! Well, Harry’s is better than mine of course, have you even looked at yours yet Harry?, but I am so not complaining. I thought I was going to end up a clerk at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes for the rest of my life!” Everyone laughed.

“Well, give me your offers and I’ll have my Law Wizard look them over. I don’t know if he does sports law or not, but if he doesn’t, he’ll know someone. I promise, whatever they are offering, Mr. Vanmere can get you more. He’s brilliant.” Mr. Weasley looked amazed at the name. Michael Vanmere was the most powerful Law Wizard in all of Britain.

“Do you really think that’s necessary?” Harry asked.

“Think about it. You guys have something they want. You’re both talented, and whether you want to admit or not, love”, Mrs. Weasley looked surprised at the casual ‘love’ Draco had used, “they are going to exploit the fact that you are who you are. You know, Boy Who Lived and all that. I can see the articles now! And I’m sure the fact that you and Ron are best friends, played together at school, and are legally brothers will get some print. The Magpies are the best team in the league, yes. Historically. But they haven’t really done that well in the past couple of years. It’s like their manager told you, they need new blood. Yours and Ron’s. Make them pay for it, that’s all I’m saying.

Harry liked Draco like this. He was not at all ruthless unless his or a friend’s life depended on it. Draco, on the other hand, was in his element at times like this.

“I don’t really need the money, Draco. Sirius left me quite a lot, not to mention what my parents left.” Harry grinned at him and kissed his cheek. “You should be a Law Wizard. I think you’d be quite good at it.”

Draco blushed a little, which everyone found endearing, except maybe Ron, who only snorted. “It doesn’t matter if you need the money or not, Harry. That’s not the point. You have a talent, both of you, and they want it. They will milk the two of you for all you’re worth. Milk them back. It’s just fair play.”

Mrs. Weasley had been watching the two boys intently. Try as she might, she could see no insincerity on Draco’s behalf at all. The way he looked at Harry, the way he smiled when someone was talking about Harry, the way he touched him, the way his eyes flared when someone stopped and congratulated Harry (especially if it was a young girl) all seemed genuine. Still, she didn’t quite trust him. His father, after all, had been fooling people for years. Draco had learned deception from a virtuoso and she was not ready to bet Harry’s heart on just one night out with him. Ron, who she knew had hated Draco Malfoy with all his heart, had certainly seemed to forgive him. She sighed heavily as another look passed between Harry and Draco. Next to her, much the same was going on between Ron and Hermione. When had they all grown up so much?

“I think having Mr. Vanmere look over your offers is a great idea. Thank you, Draco.” Mr. Weasley said and turned to Harry. “Not to be a naysayer, Harry, but I thought you wanted to be an Auror when you graduated? The Ministry will be very disappointed”.

“Arthur, don’t you pressure him! Harry, love, you do whatever makes you happy,” Mrs. Weasley said protectively as she patted his hand.

“Molly, I was only asking Harry what he thought. Being an Auror is all he’s talked about since last year.”

Harry looked at Draco. He was casually sipping his scotch and watching Harry closely. “Well, I always thought I’d be an Auror. But, now, after what happened to Draco, and receiving this offer, I’ve kind of had second thoughts. It still sounds really cool to me, so I figure I can play for a couple of years and then be an Auror if I still want to.”

Draco’s eyes lowered to his glass. “Being a Quidditch player is at least a bit less dangerous,” he said quietly. Harry put a hand on his back.

“I’ll be fine, either way,” Harry told him. Draco continued to stare into his glass and wouldn’t look at him.

“Anyway, it’s a good offer and you couldn’t ask for a better team,” Harry continued. “Mr. Hopewell and Mr. Witts seemed really nice, too.”

“What about when they called Draco your girlfriend?” Ron cried. Everyone around the table twittered.

“What?” Draco said, coming out of his reverie.

“Ron!” Harry threw a piece of bread at him. “Dumbledore said something about making concessions so we could still be together next year if I decided to join the team, and the coach just went on about how they would get me and my “girlfriend” an apartment and tutors and whatever.”

“’Whatever you want, Potter, don’t hesitate to ask’,” Ron said in a good imitation of Coach Witts. He noticed that Draco was looking at him irritably. “Don’t worry, mate, Harry set him straight right off.”

Draco leaned back in the booth and Harry absentmindedly put his arm around him and pulled the blonde next to him. Draco relaxed into Harry’s side. Harry kissed him on his forehead.

Ginny was staring at the two of them raptly, a slight blush covering her face. Ever since that day in the Great Hall, she could not watch the two of them in moments like these without incredibly dirty thoughts clouding her mind.

“Ginny, are you all right? You look a bit flush, dear.” Mrs. Weasley was looking at her daughter with concern and dabbing her forehead with a napkin.

“No, mum, I’m fine,” she replied, swatting her mother’s hand away. “Ah, the food,” she said and sighed, relieved to be able to change the subject.

Everyone tucked in to their meals and conversation came to a halt. It was quite a bit later, when everyone was pleasantly full, that Harry finally brought up Christmas.

“So, what do you think of having Christmas at Grimmauld this year?” he said cautiously. He could see from their reactions that Mr. Weasley, at least, was completely won over. Mrs. Weasley may have budged a bit, but she still wasn’t ready to surrender, the cold glint in her eyes said.

Mr. Weasley smiled. “It sounds like a great idea, Harry. We had a lot of fun there last year, didn’t we?”

Mrs. Weasley smiled and leaned into her husband. She was a bit tipsy. “We did. Is Remus coming again this year?”

“I hadn’t asked him yet, cause I didn’t know what we were doing. But I’d like him too, yes. Draco asked Dumbledore. And it’s very convenient for Fred, George, and Bill being close to Diagon Alley and all. Is Charlie coming home this year?”

“Yes, everyone’s on. And Charlie’s bringing his mate with him finally. Some boy named Vlad,” Mrs. Weasley slurred.

It took Harry a second to catch it. “Charlie’s bringing a guy home?”

Ron looked at Hermione. “Didn’t we tell him about Charlie?”

Hermione looked at Harry, then back at Ron. “Guess not.”

Everyone laughed again. Draco rolled his eyes at Harry; he was a bit tipsy too. “Even I knew about Charlie, Harry.” He turned his attention to Mrs. Weasley. “I don’t want you to worry about anything this year, Mrs. Weasley. Harry and I will take care of everything.”

Harry rounded on him. “What?!” he mouthed at Draco. Draco shrugged innocently.

“Oh?” Mrs. Weasley said. “It would be nice not to have to cook for everyone for a change.”

“Mum! Draco can’t cook!” Ron cried. He was leaning on Hermione. It was getting late and they were all getting sleepy.

“No, Draco, can’t cook, but Draco can pay people who can. Speaking of, I’d better get the check. Everyone looks positively exhausted.”

The Weasleys and Harry protested at once. Draco held up his hand as he pulled the money from his robes. “Please, do shut up. I have more money than all of you combined, at least until these two become international Quidditch stars. It’s only logical.” There was no superiority in his voice, he was just stating an obvious fact. The others looked slightly uncomfortable, but they piped down at once.

It was still more than two hours later when everyone had said good-bye and gone on their way. By then, Harry was truly exhausted and ready for some serious sleep. But as soon as Draco crawled into bed with him, he knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“Harry, I need to talk to you.” he said as he ran a hand across Harry’s bare chest.

Harry turned to face him. “I’m listening.”

Draco shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t seem to know where to begin. “I, um, I, er. Um, I’m really happy for you about your offer to play professionally next year. I am.” Harry thought he sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Harry, but he didn’t say anything. He had learned that when Draco was having a hard time saying what was on his mind, it was best to just be patient and let him work it out.

“It’s just, that, well, I’m, er, um, er, it scares me. A lot.”

Harry smiled gently at him. Draco hated being scared, and if he hadn’t had three scotches that evening, would probably have never admitted it. Harry stroked his face softly. “Why, love? Nothing’s going to change.”

Draco hid his face, tucking it under Harry’s chin. He was absentmindedly running a finger in circles around Harry’s bellybutton.

“Yes, it will. Everything’s going to change. You won’t be here during the day with me, you’ll probably be back late every night. And you’ll be traveling all over the place, with little Quidditch groupies throwing themselves at you at every turn. Some of them will be quite pretty, I imagine. All the professional players are married to models and the like. It might be hard for you, I mean, you must be curious, since you never were with a girl.”

Harry was glad Draco wasn’t looking at him, because he couldn’t help but grin, and he didn’t want Draco to think he was making fun of him.

“That’s what’s bothering you about this?” Draco nodded into his chest. “Draco, I’m not going to lie. I do find a lot of girls very attractive. I guess that, yes, I am a bit curious. But I would never do anything to hurt you. I’m loyal to a fault, in case you hadn’t heard. I can’t imagine being with anyone else, Draco, not ever. Besides, who could ever be more beautiful than you? You are perfect to me.” He was stroking Draco’s back lovingly, and began kissing him on top of his head. “How can you not know this by now?” he whispered.

Immediately, both pulse rates quickened. It never failed to amaze Harry how quickly simple touches between the two of them turned into raw need.

Draco looked up at him. His eyes were wide and clear, and for a second, Draco looked completely innocent and completely vulnerable.

“Harry, will you….make love to me?” He blushed a little, thinking he must sound incredibly cliché. “But not all crazy, but like, you know, when you tell me you love me, and kiss me a lot, and touch me all over. I…..I need you to.”

Harry pulled Draco into his arms, utterly moved. He began kissing him all over his face and neck. “I love you, Draco. I will always love you,” he whispered. He ran his hands slowly over Draco’s torso.

Draco sighed contentedly, and let Harry love him.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The sun was coming up and flooding the dormitory with a vibrant, orange light. Draco was sleeping peacefully spooned against Harry.

Last night had been the most amazing night the two of them had shared yet. It had lasted for hours, and even at that, Harry had never wanted it to end. Harry couldn’t understand what, exactly, had been so different, but he knew that the bond between he and Draco had grown even stronger because of it. He also knew that he never wanted to be without Draco, as long as he lived. He had stayed awake all night thinking about his future, and had come to a couple of very serious decisions.

He, for starters, was not going back to the Dursley’s this summer. Whatever was going to happen between he and Voldemort was going to happen soon. He had successfully learned to keep Voldemort out of his head, so he had no idea what the Dark Lord was planning, but he knew deep in his bones that the time for the two of them to fulfill the prophecy was coming. He was tired of running. He was tired of Voldemort having so much control over how he lived his life.

He carefully reached over Draco and grabbed the clock off the nightstand. It read 6:11 a.m. He tossed it casually back on the table and slowly got up. He was quickly tucking a couple of pillows against Draco’s back to keep him warm when Draco whined and started groping for Harry. Harry held out his hand. Draco grabbed it and was quickly asleep again. Harry gently pried himself loose and went downstairs. If this morning was like any other, Hermione Granger would be sitting in front of the fireplace, having tea, and preparing for her day. He didn’t want to invade on her personal time, but he needed to talk to her. He had made a second important decision in the night, but he had a lot of questions about it.

Harry threw on a tee shirt and a sweater, some pajama bottoms, and two pairs of thick, wool socks that Mrs. Weasley had knitted for him. He was still shivering. The castle was always freezing in the winter.

He padded down the stairs to the common room, and sure enough, there was Hermione, just as he’d imagined her, curled up on the couch in front of a blazing fire, reading a book and drinking tea. Harry smiled. For a second, he could see her as the young woman she was becoming, and Harry found her quite beautiful. She would be a great mother, he thought. Just then, she looked up and smiled, and she was only Hermione again, his best friend. He ambled towards her, hoping she could help him with his current question.

“Harry, what on earth are you doing up? Is the world coming to an end? We don’t have class for another three hours.” She looked at his face as he sat beside her on the couch and could see circles forming under his eyes. “You haven’t slept, have you? Are you all right?”

Harry smiled at her. She threw some of her blanket over him and tucked it around him. “You want some tea?” He nodded. She handed him her cup. “See if this one is okay for you, I’ve only had a couple of sips out of it.”

Harry tasted it. “More sugar,” he said as he held it out for her to add it.

She added a half a teaspoon with a stern look and a small tsk. Harry grinned. She’ll make a good mum, indeed, he thought. She made herself another cup, and leaned back next to Harry on the couch. The two of them sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other.

Hermione smiled. She hardly ever got Harry all to herself anymore. She looked at him, head leaning back against the couch, and wondered when he had gotten so handsome. He wasn’t a little boy anymore, she thought sadly, but he wasn’t quite a man either. It bothered her that he hadn’t slept, that was a sure sign that something big was going on in his mind. It had been such a quiet year, and even though she knew it couldn’t last, she dreaded the moment that they all had to start worrying again. Not that she had ever stopped, but she had at least been able to enjoy watching Harry be happy for a while. She took Harry’s cup from him and placed it and hers on the table before them. Under the covers, she took Harry’s hand.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked him.

Harry sighed and lay his head on her shoulder. She, in turn, lay her head on his. “Do you know anything about Wizard Marriage laws?” he asked her.

She smiled. So, this wasn’t going to be an unhappy discussion after all. “Well, actually, yes. I’ve been doing a lot of research about them lately.”

“For you and Ron?” Harry teased.

“Well, yes, not that he’s asked or anything, I was just curious, in case. Anyway, there are three ways you can go about it. Two are pretty simple, but one is very ancient, and done very rarely.”

“Would you say yes, if he asked?”

“Shut up, Harry. First, you can just move in with the object of your affection and declare yourselves married. But if one of you tries to leave, you still have to go through the legal system.”

“Next,” Harry said, clearly not interested.

She grinned. “Second, you can have something very similar to a Muggle ceremony. A specially trained Wizard or Witch presides over the whole affair, your family comes, there are vows and the whole lot. This one is most common, of course, and the whole legal system thing applies to ending it.”

“Are there rings and all that stuff? Black and white, flowers, cake etcetera, etcetera?”

“Yes, there is all of that. It’s pretty much just like a Muggle ceremony.”

“What are your wedding colors going to be?”

She smacked him. “The third is what Wizards used to do, and why the whole move in and say you’re married thing came about. It’s an actual magical ceremony, and no amount of legal wrangling can undo it.”

“What do you mean?” It seemed Harry’s interest was finally piqued.

“I mean that you bind with the person you’re married to and the bind cannot be broken. That’s why people don’t do it. Even if you hate each other and agree to split, it can’t happen. If the two people are too far away from each other, they will die. It’s where the term “your other half” comes from. The two people literally create a whole that cannot be divided.”

Harry looked confused. “Maybe you should start from the beginning, as this doesn’t especially sound all that cheery for a marriage ceremony.”

“I don’t know all the details, because there are very formal rules governing this type of union. But to start, you have to get the family of both sides together. The first thing you have to do is state your intentions and ask permission of both sides of the family. If there are no objections, then you can ask the person if they will commit to you. There are formal words you have to say, and if the person accepts the offer, you both have to wear rings to symbolize that you are in a relationship that is going to become committed. At the point where you exchange rings, a legal and binding contract has been established. Some of the most bitter Wizarding rivalries have been over broken commitment contracts. In fact, there is an interesting story about two families-“

“Back on track, Einstein.” Harry chided. This was one thing he enjoyed with Hermione that he couldn’t enjoy with either Ron or Draco-Muggle jokes.

“Oh, sorry. After you both accept, you just have to set a date for the ceremony, which is also subject to a lot of rules. There are special Wizards and Witches who preside over these ceremonies as well, though they are getting harder and harder to find as the practice dies out. They officiate by saying some powerful incantations, and at some point, the two people committing cut open each other’s palms with a sacred knife and join hands. While their blood is mingling, the official puts a irreversible binding spell on them that joins their blood forever. And I mean forever Harry. Supposedly, you just keep ending up with that person life after life after life, if there is such a thing. You spend all eternity with them.” That sounded good to Harry. “Oh, and for two weeks prior to the bonding date, you have no contact at all with the person you’re committing to. You spend that time with your family and close friends to say good-bye. Once you’re committed, or bonded, that person is the most important in your life, no if ands or buts.”

“And the other person will die if one leaves?”

“Yes.”

“And anyone can do this?”

“As long as they follow the rules of the ceremony, yes.” Hermione paused and looked at Harry. He was smiling in a very strange way. “Oh! You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re going to ask him!”

Harry lay his head back on her shoulder. “Yeah, I think I am. At Christmas. Will you help me get everything together?”

“Oh Harry! Of course, but are you sure? I mean, this is serious! Maybe you should think about it, I mean…”

“Shut up, Hermione. I know what I’m doing.” And Harry did. He knew it with all his heart.

“Haaaarrrryyy!” It was Draco, whining the whole way down the stairs into the common room. His hair was a mess and his eyes were still swollen from sleep. He looked like a grumpy little boy. A grumpy little boy with an incredibly hot body, Harry thought to himself. Draco in his pajamas had always been a problem for him. “Why are you down here? Why are you up? I woke up freezing, alone in a strange bed-“

“Really Draco, I don’t see how you can call it strange. You’ve been sleeping in it every night for four months”

“Shut up, Hermione Granger. And what are you doing snuggling with my boyfriend? By the fire no less?” Harry held up the blanket for him, and Draco crawled under, curling up on Harry’s chest.

“Didn’t he tell you? He and I have been having a passionate affair since we were twelve. You and Ron are just our covers.”

“Not funny, Hermione. Not funny. I’ll have Peter do something foul to your hair tomorrow at the spa if you continue to make jokes like that.”

Harry groaned. He still had to get Draco a birthday present on Saturday. Neither Hermione nor Draco noticed him, however, as they were busy bickering. Harry leaned back against Hermione and settled his arms around Draco. In what seemed like seconds, he was fast asleep.

“Harry, budge up,” Hermione said as she pushed gently at her friend. “You’re squishing me.”

The only response she got was a soft snore.

”Is he asleep? He’s breaking my arm!”

Draco sniggered. “Just wriggle around behind him until you’re comfortable. He sleeps like the dead.”

“So do you. I hope no one ever breaks into your house when you get mar-uh, start living together.”

“Be quiet, Hermione. You talk entirely too much.”

She had managed to get more comfortable behind Harry and was trying to reach her book when the weight on her seemed to get slightly heavier.

“Draco? Malfoy, you better not be asleep too!” She managed to crane her face around Harry’s head for a look. Sure enough, Draco had fallen asleep on Harry’s chest.

“Blimey. I’m stuck.” She looked at her two friends, sleeping peacefully. A wicked grin spread across her face. “Ginny Weasley is going to die of jealousy,” she said aloud. She attempted to get her book again, but after one especially eager reach, Harry had snorted grumpily. Not wanting to deprive him of what little sleep he was going to get, she leaned back and was still. They were very warm, she thought, and their combined weight was sort of comforting. And Ginny really was going to be jealous. Smiling contentedly, Hermione, too, fell fast asleep.

Chapter Text

A rather irate Ron Weasley had awaked Harry, Draco and Hermione only an hour or so after they had fallen asleep in an amiable heap on the couch. Despite the fact that it was only Harry and Draco, Ron didn’t seem to like the idea of two boys falling asleep in such close quarters with his girlfriend. He and Hermione had a small spat, and Hermione had stormed off to the girl’s dormitory, Ron chasing after her, only to be deposited back into the common room when the stairs turned into a slide.

“You guys haven’t figured out the spell to fix that yet?” Draco asked incredulously.

“No,” Harry replied. “You obviously have?” There was clear irritation in his voice.

“Well, yes, Harry, third year. I figured it out as soon as I figured out that girls were fun to make out with. How else was I supposed to get to them?”

Harry glared at him. “You can shut up now, Draco Malfoy. I don’t really want to hear about your past sexual exploits. Dick.” Harry rubbed his eyes and pouted. “I’m going back to bed. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Draco was surprised by Harry’s reaction. He was never jealous about anything. “Harry, what’s wrong with you? I’m talking about kissing some stupid girl when I was thirteen years old. You don’t have to call me names. Dick. And you just missed class the other day, you should at least come to Potions or you’ll get behind.”

Harry, who was mostly tired and grumpy, not really angry, only whined. “Can’t I just get the notes from you? I need to sleep. I’ve got Quidditch practice tonight.”

“Well, at least you’ve got your priorities straight.” Draco drawled. “Even if I give you the notes, I can’t get your daily grade for you. You’ll get a zero for whatever we’re doing today, and quite frankly, you can’t afford it. Just come to Potions, and I’ll personally escort you back here afterwards so you can sleep.”

Harry grumbled. “Fine. But if you escort me back here, you and I both know that I’ll never get to sleep. You won’t keep your hands off me.”

Draco rolled his eyes at him. “You flatter yourself, Potter. I’m going to get ready for breakfast. Are you coming?”

“No, I’m going to take a nap. Wake me up right before Potions,” Harry replied as he turned back toward the boy’s dorm.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Draco said crossly.

Harry groaned and turned back around. “What?” he whined again.

Draco closed his eyes and puckered his lips. Harry couldn’t help but grin. He kissed him quickly and turned to go. “Brat,” he said in parting.

Draco watched him go up the stairs with a pang and sighed. Our relationship is either really good, or really unhealthy, he thought to himself, already sad to be parted from Harry. Hermione slid down what had been the stairs and began berating him for still not having showered, breaking his thoughts. With her pushing him out the door, he made his way out of the common room.

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Harry barely made it through Potions and back to his dorm before passing out. He had to place a sealing charm on his bed to keep Draco away, and the Slytherin had not been especially happy about it. Harry was exhausted though, and he knew that the second he let Draco climb into bed with him, sleep would be the last thing on his mind. Being sixteen could be a bit predictable sometimes. He had fallen asleep with Draco’s angry voice still in his ears.

It was Draco who was shaking him gently and kissing his face now, though. The sealing spell had worn off a long time ago, as had Draco’s anger.

“Love, get up. You’ve got Quidditch practice in about ten minutes.” Draco kissed him again, then stopped and sat back. He had not seen Harry all day, and being this close to him always made him a little dizzy. He didn’t want to make him late for practice.

Harry’s eyes opened and he smiled at Draco. He looked peaceful and refreshed.

“You up?” Draco asked.

Harry pulled him down and tried to kiss him, but Draco pulled away. “You have to be dressed and on the pitch in a few minutes, Harry. Don’t start anything with me,” he said sternly.

Harry pouted and got up from the bed. “Fine, fine. You’re turning into bloody Hermione, you are,” but Harry was smiling at him. “Are you coming down to watch?”

Draco smiled wickedly and lifted an eyebrow. “You, in Quidditch robes, sweaty and dirty, full of authority? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Harry grabbed him, and Draco did not pull away. Though he had to fight both his will and Harry’s protests, he made sure that the Gryffindor captain was at the pitch at the scheduled time.

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Draco loved to watch Harry play Quidditch. It was like watching an artist at work, and when he was ordering his team around and showing them their moves, he was just plain sexy. Draco also loved the fact that of all the people gathered to watch Harry, he was the only one who would get to be with him afterwards. He didn’t even mind the swooning little second and third year girls who always came to the practices; in fact, he loved nothing more than the jealousy in their eyes when, at the end of practice, Harry would fly to where he was sitting and yell to him “Meet me in the locker room!” The crestfallen looks on their faces gave Draco a perverse joy as he stood and casually exited the stadium.

Draco wanted to go inside the locker room and attack Harry before he even had a chance to shower, but he stopped himself outside the door. Hermione was standing there, waiting for Ron, so he gladly talked to her to distract himself.

Ron came out a couple of minutes later, still dirty and sweaty. He always took his shower in the Prefect’s bathroom in the castle. They spoke briefly and Draco watched as he and Hermione made their way, hand in hand, back to the castle. The other players started to stream from the locker room, but still no Harry. They all glared at Draco, who was leaning against the wall just outside the door, and he smirked back at them. He enjoyed how much they all still hated and mistrusted him, a true Slytherin to the end. Sure that Harry was now alone in the locker room, he finally went inside.

Moving very quietly, he came to the row where Harry was and found him standing barefoot and in his jeans, hair still wet from the shower, carefully arranging his equipment in his locker. Draco stared at him hungrily. His body was hard and very well defined, and he could see his hipbones jutting out of the loose jeans he was wearing. Harry didn’t wear his cousin’s hand-me-downs anymore, but out of habit, he still wore his clothes too big. Draco had been tempted to buy him things that fit and were a bit more stylish, but it just wouldn’t have been Harry, and he decided to leave well enough alone. He had enough girls still trying to woo him away as it was and Draco didn’t feel the need to encourage them.

Draco moved silently closer to Harry, who had his back to him. When he was within touching distance, he raised his wand to the lights and muttered “Caligatio”. The room went dark at once and Harry spun around at the sound of Draco’s voice in such close proximity. The two were soon caught up in each other’s arms, kissing passionately in the dark.

Harry pulled him into a tight embrace. “Hello, love, I was wondering where you were,” he purred. “How was practice?” Harry’s energy, already powerful at the worst of times, was palatable after a hard Quidditch practice. He was practically thrumming. Draco was drawn to him like a magnet.

Draco kissed him again. He had no intention of carrying on a conversation with a half naked Harry in a totally dark room. He slid his hands down the back of Harry’s baggy jeans and pulled him next to him; here was another reason to like Harry’s baggy clothes, they were so easy to get into. Harry’s body responded with a flush of heat that was a delicious contrast to the cold night air, and for one of the many times since he’d known him, Draco found himself happy that Harry didn’t wear any underwear. Even one less obstacle. Harry began to work with the clasps on Draco’s robe.

In minutes, they had each other undressed and Draco had forced Harry to sit on the bench running down the center of the aisle. Without hesitation and with no further delay, Draco sank to his knees before the panting Gryffindor. With one last smoldering look up at Harry, he leaned down and took him in his mouth.

Draco loved the way his name from Harry’s lips reverberated and echoed all through the boy’s locker room, as did every breath and moan. He redoubled his efforts with every loud moan, every cry of ‘Draco, yes’ and every shiver and buck from Harry’s body. At long last, Harry tensed up one last time and released, a sharp intake of breath his only sound.

Draco remained before Harry for a couple of minutes, head resting on his thigh. He listened intently for the moment that Harry’s breath seemed to be almost normal, and then he stood. He watched as Harry’s eyes grew misty, then hungry, and he took Harry’s head in his hands and gently guided his mouth to him.

Harry groaned so greedily, it was hard to say who was getting the most pleasure from the moment. He reached around Draco, and cupping his hips, held him firmly in place as he stroked him with his tongue and lips. He wanted Draco, needed him. It wasn’t long before Draco, hand pressed against the lockers for support, gave in to him, crying out his name.

Draco sat down heavily on the bench in front of Harry, back pressed against him, still breathing hard. Harry wrapped his arms around him and took his hands. He was nibbling lightly on Draco’s neck when the Slytherin nudged him away with his shoulder. “Stop it, or we’ll never get out of this stinky locker room,” he breathed. Reluctantly, Harry pulled away.

They sat in silence for several minutes, just leaning into each other and listening to each other breathe. Harry was getting drowsy. He moved a bit to break the spell and spoke.

“What do you want for your birthday? We’re going shopping tomorrow, and I have no idea what to get you. You bloody have everything.”

Draco snickered. “Yeah, I guess I sort of do. How about twenty-four hours of what you just did?”

Harry rolled his eyes in the dark room. “Draco, if we had sex any more, we wouldn’t have time to eat. I mean, I actually feel guilty about it sometimes, then I see you and get a hard-on again, and it starts all over. Think of something else. You can get a blow job anytime you want.”

“Harry Potter, are you talking dirty to me?” Draco laughed. Harry hardly ever acknowledged that they actually had sex outside of the act itself.

Harry pinched his butt. “Shut up and help me out, please. You’re impossible, really.”

Draco shrugged and stood. “I don’t know. You know what kind of stuff I like, just pick something. I’m not really that fussy.” He had started to get dressed, so Harry stood and did the same.

“Not that fussy? Are you mad? You’re the most fussy person on the planet! You fuss about everything. No red meat, it’s hard to digest; nothing but silk for sleeping, anything else is scratchy; only warm water for the shower, hot makes your skin too red; only vanilla with amber for scent, vanilla alone is too girly; only white flowers for the nightstand, any other color for everyday is too gauche-“

Draco cut Harry’s tirade off. “See? You know me quite well. And doing things properly is not the same as being fussy. And besides, gifts are different. I like almost anything. Now come on, before someone sends out a search party.”

Harry inwardly groaned as he still had no idea what to get him. “No one’s going to send out a search party. Everyone knows we’re somewhere snogging.”

Draco laughed. “Probably so. Maybe we should stop being so predictable.” Harry wrapped his arm around Draco’s waist, and Draco did likewise to Harry.

“I like predictable,” said Harry.

“Me, too,” decided Draco. They walked to the castle arm in arm.

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Remus Lupin laughed to himself at the four teenagers approaching him at the front gate to Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione were holding hands and talking quietly, while slightly behind them, Draco was straightening an obviously grumpy and half awake Harry’s hair and robes. Remus felt a familiar pang at the sight of Harry; he reminded him so much of James it was eerie. Thinking of James naturally made him think of Sirius. He sighed heavily as thoughts of his now dead best friends flooded his mind. It made no sense at all-he was the least talented of the three and a werewolf to boot. By odds, he should not be the one still standing.

Ron and Hermione had reached him now and bade him good morning. He pulled himself out of his reverie and smiled as brightly as he could. Harry and Draco arrived, Draco finally seeming satisfied with Harry’s appearance.

“Sorry we’re a bit late, we couldn’t get his majesty to get out of bed,” said Ron, jerking his thumb towards Harry.

“Yes, you’d think he’d be a bit more anxious, considering he hasn’t bought me one thing for my birthday yet,” Draco said sarcastically. Harry’s lethargy in the morning drove him to madness. “Good morning, Professor Lupin,” he said, voice growing cold and eyes traveling over the professor icily. Harry kicked him on his ankle, very aware that some prejudices died hard deaths. Draco’s pureblood snobbery drove him nuts.

Remus only continued to smile. Those two are like an old married couple, he thought as he watched Harry and Draco. “It’s all right. It’s not like you have to have an appointment for the Knight Bus.”

Ron and Draco groaned. “Can’t I just hire a regular carriage?” Draco asked. “I hate that bloody bus.” Ron nodded his head in agreement.

“Draco, stop it. We’ve been over this. The Knight Bus is much faster. Go ahead, Remus,” Harry said as Ron and Draco glowered. Remus threw out his right arm.

Within seconds, the purple behemoth appeared and the door swung open. Draco paid everyone’s way, much to everyone’s distress, and they boarded.

Hermione and Draco immediately began to discuss what treatments they were going to have at the spa the minute they sat down. The day was to be Hermione’s treat, as an early birthday present to Draco. It seemed that she, too, had had trouble coming up with something to get him. Ron gave them both a healthy dose of crap, then began to beg Remus to regale them with tales of the Marauders.

Remus looked carefully at Harry, whose face had drawn a bit at the suggestion. “Is that all right with you, Harry?” Remus knew from their time spent together in study that Harry was still not completely healed from Sirius’ death.

Harry thought a moment and smiled fondly. “Yeah, Remus, that would be good. Tell us something funny. Tell us how you guys used to torture Snape, that’s always humourous.”

Draco elbowed Harry in the ribs. Remus smiled. “I think I’ll start with something else. Did I ever tell you how Sirius and James and I all met?” Everyone shook their heads, and Remus began. He had just finished his story when the Knight Bus stopped in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

Everyone exited and made their way inside the bar. As soon as Harry and Ron entered, a loud cheer erupted. It seemed that there had been an article in that morning’s Daily Prophet leaking the information about the offers that had been made to them by the Magpies. After much back clapping and hand shaking, the five of them finally made their way to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

The first things they saw when they entered were wanted posters of Lucius Malfoy plastered everywhere. It reminded Harry of the time they had seen similar posters of Sirius all over Hogsmeade, the only difference being that Lucius Malfoy was actually dangerous. Draco gasped and his grip on Harry’s hand tightened at once.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked him.

Draco nodded. “Why are these here? My father’s hiding with the Dark Lord.” He moved forward with Harry following to get a closer look at the poster closest to them.

“WANTED: LUCIUS BARNABUS MALFOY
In connection with death, destruction and mayhem
and for his continued activity as a Death Eater in
service to the Dark Lord.”

The sign shouted the words as they approached. Underneath this was a sketch of what must be an updated look for Lucius. His hair was shaved off and he was almost skeletally thin. Harry hoped that the crazed look in his eye was artistic license on the part of the sketcher, but knew it probably wasn’t. Underneath the drawing, the poster continued:

“Last seen in Hogfordshire, last week of November.
Current location unknown. Considered highly
dangerous, do not attempt to apprehend. Please
contact Ministry police if you see this man.”

As they stood there staring, the poster began to repeat itself. Harry dragged Draco away so that it would be quiet.

“He looks horrible,” Draco said flatly. “And he was here, just outside of Hogsmeade, two weeks ago. Right when I got that letter.” He looked pale and more than a little unnerved.

Harry looked at Remus pleadingly. He had no idea what to do or say. He just stood, holding Draco’s hand, feeling completely worthless. “Remus, I know Dumbledore wanted you to stay with me today, but I’d prefer it if you stayed with him.” Harry said quietly, indicating Draco.

Draco rounded on him. “I can take care of myself, Harry. I don’t suspect that my father is going to run in and try to kidnap me while I’m getting my nails done. It’s not really his style,” Draco said angrily.

“I know, love, I know. I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself, but I would feel better if Remus were with you. Please, don’t take it the wrong way. Just let him stay with you, for me. Please.”

Draco hated when Harry did this to him. Harry knew that Draco could never tell him no when he locked those huge, misty green eyes on him like that. He sighed heavily. “Fine, Harry, fine. If dear old dad shows up, I’ll treat him to a manicure. From the looks of it, he could probably use one.”

Remus was quite relieved. They had all assumed that he had been sent to watch after Harry, when in fact Dumbledore had sent him to keep an eye on Draco. This made things much easier for him. With what he hoped was an authorative nod, he said to Harry, “That’s a good idea, Harry. But you two stick to Diagon Alley. You’ll be well protected as long as you stay here. Meet us back at the Leaky Cauldron, in say, how long?” he asked looking to Hermione and Draco, who seemed to have recovered somewhat.

“About four hours, wouldn’t you say, Hermione?” Draco answered. She nodded in agreement.

Ron, Harry and Remus all looked shocked. “Four hours?!” demanded Ron.

“Well, yes, Weasley. We’re both having our hair done, facials, manicures, massages—“

“Yes, yes, okay, we get it. Four hours then. And I do hope you look better when you’re done, Malfoy. Maybe get them to give you some color or something,” Ron said, unable to stop himself from getting a last jab in.

“Well, at least…oh, never mind. This is just too easy, this one,” Draco said, waving his hand dismissively at Ron. He kissed Harry good-bye and they all parted. “Buy me something good!” he taunted Harry.

Harry groaned. “Bloody brat! He knows I have no idea what to get him!”

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The first thing they did was leave Diagon Alley for Muggle London. Harry wanted to get Draco a set of Winnie the Pooh books, a set of the Series of Unfortunate Events, and a copy of the Little Prince. Draco loved children’s literature, so Harry thought he’d introduce him to some Muggle writers and see how he liked them. They also stopped off at a toyshop, where Harry bought him a very cute stuffed dragon, remembering how wistful Draco had been when he spoke of having tons of dragon things when he was a child.

Back in Diagon Alley, the search became increasingly more frustrating. They had been gone over two hours, and Harry had purchased a lot of small things for Draco, but still had not found what he was looking for. He went from store to store, thinking he’d know it when he saw it.

Finally, they had come to what seemed like an interesting store well off the beaten path. Magical Curios and Estate Treasures the sign read. A small bell twinkled as the boys entered the store. Sitting to the left of the counter, he saw a Gringott’s goblin holding what looked like a small calculator with a tuning fork sticking out of the top sitting idly at a large desk. An old, dried up looking man came from the back of the shop at the sound of the bell and studied the two boys suspiciously. What were two such scruffy looking youths doing in a shop like his?

“May I help you?” he said snottily.

“No, thank you, just looking,” Harry politely replied. The shopkeeper watched he and Ron closely as they pored over the cases in the store.

Harry was giving up hope when he heard Ron gasp. “Harry, come here, quick. I think I found it!”

Harry jogged over to where Ron was bent over a clear glass case. When he looked over his friend’s shoulder, he too, gasped aloud.

Alone in the case, lying on a piece of smooth black velvet, were two mirrors. They were about the size of a Muggle snap shot, and seemed unremarkable except for their frames. It was the frames that had caused the reactions from Ron and Harry.

One was platinum and had been fashioned into the form of a snake curling all around the mirror, its’ serpentine head hanging over one corner. There were small diamonds glittering along its’ back, and it’s eyes were emeralds. The other frame was gold and in the form of a lion, perched on top of the mirror with one paw dangling over the corner and its’ head held high. There were small rubies dotting the sides of the mirror, and the lion’s eyes were onyx.

Gryffindor and Slytherin.

“Excuse me,” said Harry breathlessly, “can you tell me something about these?” he said as he pointed to the mirrors.

The shopkeeper came over to where the boys were standing and looked at them coldly. “These are very expensive, gentlemen. Perhaps I could show you something else.”

Under normal circumstances, Harry would have just left the shop without a word, but he had to have these for Draco. He thought for a moment, then did something he thought he’d never do in his entire life. Taking his hand and brushing his fringe aside so that he his scar was completely visible, he looked pointedly at the man again.

“No, thank you, I’m actually rather interested in these.”

The man’s eyes flew to Harry’s scar and went wide. “Well, yes, of course, my mistake. Let me see where the key is…ah, yes, here, I have it.” He said as he unlocked the case with fumbling hands. Ron was glaring at him hatefully, and Harry nudged him in the ribs. When the man looked back up, his face was expressionless. “These are one of a kind items, custom made by the former owners. I even have the original velvet bags that were made for them,” he said as he removed them from the case and laid them on the counter.

Harry reached to pick the Slytherin mirror up and stopped. He raised his eyes to the shopkeeper “May I?” he asked, with more cordiality than he felt.

The shopkeeper smiled indulgently, “By all means. They’re two-way mirrors. The former owners were school sweethearts, but were in different houses. The young gentleman had them made for his girl so that they could always communicate whenever they were apart. They recently died, and these were found on their persons. It seems they carried them with them everywhere they went even still, fifty some odd years after they graduated. Touching, yes?” The man said to them.

Harry turned the mirror over, tears welling in his eyes. This was the same thing Sirius had given him, albeit a lot nicer. Harry turned the mirror over in his hands. On the back, the words Alicia, So we’re never really apart. Love, Winston were engraved. Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “How did they die?” he asked quietly.

“They were a bonded couple, and the man recently became ill. He died first, and the woman, Alicia I believe her name was, died hours later. They were still very much in love, and that makes the bond all the more strong, from what I understand.”

That did it for Harry. “I’ll take them. Can you wrap them? And can I have them delivered?” He was going to have enough trouble keeping Draco out of the packages he already had, he did not want to take a chance that he might get into these. These had to be a total surprise.

The man faltered. “Well, as I was saying, they are quite expensive. I’ll need to do a credit check…”

“Just tell me how much they are, and I’ll go the money out of Gringott’s.” Harry said, loosing his patience. Ron stared at him, wide eyed.

The man began to practically bounce on the balls of his feet. “Well, I have a Gringott’s representative right here, sir. He can look up your account and have the money transferred to me, if you’d like. I’ll even waive the wrapping and delivery fee, since you’re paying cash. All you have to do is step over here,” the shopkeeper said, directing Harry over to the goblin’s desk, “and give him your name.”

Harry stepped up to the goblin and gave his name. The little tuning fork on the calculator looking device began to hum, and a small light came on inside the device. Harry leaned over a little bit and saw what looked like a small screen light up with his name at the top, followed by three vault numbers. One was the trust Sirius had left for him, which he couldn’t access until after he graduated , and the others were the accounts left to him by Sirius and his parents to use as he saw fit.

“Which account?” the goblin asked.

“Uh, whichever one has the most money in it, I guess.” Harry stammered. He was ashamed to admit it, but he had no idea how much money he had. He’d never really needed to know before.

The goblin sighed and opened one, then the other account. “That’d be this one,” he said, indicating the one his parents left him.

“Okay, that’s fine then.”

Ron elbowed him. “Aren’t you even going to ask how much they are?”

Harry looked back at him. “I’m afraid to. You do it.”

Ron looked at the shopkeeper. “How much are those, anyway?”

“A thousand galleons each. They are one of a kind, and those are real jewels. Not to mention the metals, that’s real as well. A bargain, really, these,” he replied, sounding haughty again.

“Wrap them up, please, and have them sent to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, care of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, please,” Harry said without hesitation. The man wrote everything down, had the money transferred and wished Harry a good day. Harry thanked him and left. The shopkeeper would tell his customers of the visit for years to come.

Ron was still staring at him, mouth agape. “I can’t believe you just spent two thousand galleons on Draco’s seventeenth birthday,” he said.

Harry smiled. “He’s worth it, and those are perfect. I guess Hermione didn’t tell you huh?”

“Tell me what?” Ron asked.

“I’m going to ask him if he’ll commit to me, or bond with me, whatever you call it. At Christmas. If I can get your mom to agree to it.”

Ron stopped walking. “What? Harry, are you mad?”

Harry thought he was about to get the lecture about it being forever and him being only sixteen that Hermione had tried to give him.

“No, Ron I am not mad. I know everyone thinks I’m a blithering idiot because of my age, but I know what I’m doing!”

“No, mate, that’s not it. It’s just, if you do that, Hermione will accept nothing less from me.” Ron paled a bit. “That’s scary. I don’t want to have to cut my palm open. My parents did it though, and they said it doesn’t hurt.”

“Really?” Harry asked. He was thinking he could ask the Weasleys for their help with the preparations for the proposal and the ceremony when he saw an evil grin wash over Ron’s face. “What, Ron? Why are you smiling like that?”

“Draco’s only fifteen?” he asked. “I thought he was already sixteen, and this was his seventeenth birthday.”

Harry looked at him sternly. “No, Ron, he’s the same year as us. His birthday is just late. Don’t pick at him about it.”

Ron continued to grin. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Harry, wouldn’t dream of it. We’d better hurry, I want to say hi to Fred and George before we have to meet the girls.”

Harry shot Ron a look. “Ron, I’m warning you. And Draco is not a girl, he very much has a penis, making him a boy. This much, I know for a fact.”

That comment finally wiped the grin off Ron’s face. Harry seemed satisfied with his new expression and they hurried back to central Diagon Alley.

Chapter Text

Severus Snape was hoping that the Death Eaters around him were buying the story he had just fed them about Harry and Draco’s relationship. His life, after all, depended on it.

Potter is such an idiot, he thought to himself, did it never occur to him what the consequences might be if this information went public?

The Order members had become a little lax on their daily perusal of the Daily Prophet, now only looking for articles concerning suspicious disappearances or strange deaths. No one had bothered to read the small article about the offer the Magpies had made to Harry and Ron, so no one had noticed that it had also mentioned that Harry was purportedly dating one Draco Malfoy. The people on Voldemort’s end, however, had read the paper thoroughly, for months on end. Especially any articles concerning Harry in any way.

Severus knew that if Lucius ever found out about Harry and Draco, they would be in mortal danger. Lucius hated Harry with almost as much passion as the Dark Lord; the idea of his son sleeping with the enemy would not please him, to put it mildly. Now his worst fears were confirmed-the Death Eaters knew, which meant Lucius knew. It had been the first topic they had questioned him about as soon as he entered the room, and they had not gone about it in an overly friendly way. He was now sporting a black eye and a cut lip, but he had not let Draco down.

“I knew nothing of their relationship. I assure you this is the first I have heard of it. Draco has been acting a bit strange this term, as he had not been confiding in me as he once did, but from all appearances, he is still a loyal Slytherin. There was no outward indication that anything had changed.” He hoped that his logic about there being no other spies at Hogwarts was sound. He figured they would have known about the two boys long before now if there was one. He seemed to be right, as he was still breathing. “I think his arrest this summer had a rather bad effect on him.” He had struggled to keep his mind closed and relaxed, but all he could think of was the danger that Draco was now in. If anything happens to him, I will kill Harry Potter myself, and save the Dark Lord the trouble, he raged to himself.

The meeting had gone on for a very long time. Severus had not been able to attend the last two meetings, as they would have been in obvious conflict with his school duties, and it was imperative in the eyes of the Death Eaters that he not appear to behave in a way that could be considered suspicious by Dumbledore. They quickly brought him up to date after his questioning, and he found himself wishing that he had had an excuse to miss this meeting, too.

The Dark Lord was planning another attack on the Ministry of Magic early in January, in hopes of killing Cornelius Fudge and other top officials, thus rendering the Ministry ineffective. He also hoped to draw out Dumbledore in this way and force him into another duel. The Dark Lord was physically stronger than ever, having fed off the pain and torture that he had inflicted on various Muggles and even his own Death Eaters in the past few months, and felt that he could now best Dumbledore and thus remove Harry’s key protector. He had not yet found a way back inside Harry’s head, but was said to be working diligently at it.

Lucius Malfoy, who had finally healed, was being sent back to Britain to kidnap Draco, extract all the information he could from the boy, and bring him back into the fold. The Dark Lord planned to use his relationship with Harry to his advantage by convincing Draco to be a spy for him, even if that convincing took a very powerful Imperious Curse. Rumor was that the Dark Lord now blamed Lucius for letting the boy be taken by the Ministry in the first place, and felt that information about Draco’s experiences, both at his arrest and after, could be invaluable to the Dark Lord’s plans.

When it was all over, the Death Eaters still thought that Snape was their spy at Hogwarts, and continued to trust him with their secrets. Severus continued to feed them either erroneous or harmless information.

He was standing to leave the meeting when a small, feminine hand grabbed his shoulder.

It was Bellatrix LeStrange. “Follow me, and hurry,” she whispered. She looked utterly terrified.

Severus followed her into a small, dark room adjacent to the door of the abandoned building that they had used for the meeting. She clutched the front of his robes.

“Severus, you have to keep Draco at Hogwarts. Don’t let him leave there for any reason.”

Severus pushed her hands away and smoothed the front of his robes. “Unhand me, Bellatrix. What is this drivel? If I keep him at Hogwarts, Lucius has no chance of abducting him,” he sneered.

“I know, you idiot. Bringing Draco back would be the smart thing to do, especially if he is in a relationship with the Enemy. But I think the Dark Lord is losing his touch, because that isn’t what he’s planning. Lucius’ orders are to kill Draco, and to bring back the Enemy if he can. But Lucius must kill Draco, or the Dark Lord has promised that it will be the last task he ever has the chance to fail to do. He wants the boy dead by Christmas.”

It was now that Snape had the hardest time controlling his emotions. He did not know if this was a carefully laid trap to see if he was true to the Death Eaters or if Bellatrix was being sincere. Either way, he was unsure of how to proceed.

“So what if he kills the imbecile? He has disgraced us to no end. Lucius will never be able to come out of hiding until the Dark Lord regains total control, and half our force at the Ministry was arrested because of Draco’s babbling. I admit, it does seem to make more sense to use him as a spy, especially against the Enemy, if they are indeed so close, but if Lucius’ orders are to kill Draco, then the Dark Lord must have his reasons. To say he is losing his touch is almost traitorous, Bellatrix.” Snape took a moment to enjoy the look of fear in the woman’s eyes before he continued. “I imagine if the two boys are dating, Draco may not give up the information the Dark Lord seeks so willingly. Maybe he feels it’s just too much of a bother.” It hurt Snape to talk about killing Draco in such a casual fashion, but he managed to hold onto his composure.

There was the sound of footsteps outside the closet door, and both Death Eaters held their breaths. After it had grown quiet, Bellatrix continued, again clutching the front of Severus’ robes. She spoke in a much softer tone.

“Severus, do you think that Draco would be any match for his father if Lucius wanted to get the information out of him? But that isn’t the point. He’s not going after Draco to get information-he’s going to kill him. I know you had feelings for Draco when he was a child, and I know you loved my sister. Draco is her only child, she died with his name on her lips. Lucius killed her because she wanted to go and get him from the Manor the night he escaped from Azkaban. If Lucius had done as she asked, none of us would be in this position. It’s not Draco’s fault. Please, for Narcissa if for nothing else, don’t let anything happen to him.”

With those words, Bellatrix was gone. She had Apparated and left Severus alone in the dark room, more anxious than he had ever been to get back to Hogwarts.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

By the time Harry and Ron reached central Diagon Alley again, it was too late for them to stop and see Fred and George, though they passed the shop. It had been very busy and they could see Fred and George happily demonstrating their wares through the front picture window.

“We’ve got to stop in before we leave. And I wonder if Bill is at the bank today?” Ron said.

Harry just shrugged and kept walking. Now that he had Draco’s present all taken care of, he could go back to worrying about him and how he was reacting to the news that his father had been so close by so recently.

They reached the spa to find Remus, Hermione and Draco waiting patiently out front, eating ice cream cones.

Draco greeted Harry with a hug and kiss, as did Hermione. Harry looked the two over and decided that they had wasted four hours. Except for a few minor things, the two looked exactly the same.

“So, how was it?” he asked Draco.

“Oh, Harry, you have to come with me one day. First we got massages, and the lady they have doing them right now is pretty hot,” Harry glared at this remark but Draco continued deftly, “and then we got facials. The witch couldn’t believe that I hadn’t had one in almost six months. She went on about how perfect my skin is. Good genes will do it every time. Anyway, then I got my hair trimmed, I so wanted to cut it all off, but I figured you’d be pissed, so I didn’t, and then we got our manicures and pedicures.” Draco held out his hands. Harry had to admit, they did look very nice and neat. “So,” asked Draco “do we look gorgeous?”

Harry studied them again. Hermione’s hair did seem a bit smoother-it was actually curly now instead of bushy, and it looked like she had gotten some highlights in the front. She had had her nails painted a nice shade of pink, but other than that, Harry could still see no difference.

“Yeah, you both look great,” he said finally. Hermione and Draco beamed.

“Hermione, what’s that in your hair?” Ron asked. Both Harry and Draco shot him a warning look. Remus stifled a laugh.

“What?” asked Hermione, eyes lowering to slits. She looked a bit like Mrs. Weasley, Draco thought.

“Those streaks, there, in the front. They’re….nice,” he finished lamely.

Hermione flipped her hair and smiled at him. “I just got a little color put it. Peter, he’s the hairdresser, said it would bring out my eyes.”

“Oh, yeah, um, it does,” Ron stammered.

Draco had been looking at Harry’s bags like a little kid in a candy store. “Are all of those for me?” he asked, clearly delighted.

Harry instinctively gripped them tighter. “Yes, but you can’t see. DRACO!”

Draco had launched himself at Harry, trying vainly to rip the bags from his hands.

“Someone help me!” Harry screeched.

Remus raised his wand and pointed it Harry. “Accio bags!” he cried. All of the packages Harry had been holding and the one that Draco had managed to get away flew and landed all around Remus. He picked them up and smiled at Draco. “It’s only fair, Draco. Harry went through a lot of trouble today to get this stuff, so you should wait. If you see everything now, you won’t have any surprises on your birthday.”

Draco grumbled, but he didn’t dare go after the professor. He was still wary of the werewolf.

“Oh, he could look all through those bags and still not see the best present,” Ron teased.

“You got me something else?” Draco asked, excited all over again.

“You’ll have to wait and see, like Remus said. Now settle down. I think no more sugar for you today,” Harry said, only half kidding.

Draco sneered at him, then threw his arms around him. “I’ll get you to tell me before my birthday, just you wait,” he whispered into Harry’s ear, after which he discreetly nibbled his earlobe.

Harry leaned to Draco’s ear. “No way in hell, Malfoy, but we can certainly have fun while you try,” Harry replied, also taking a little nibble when he had said his piece.

“All right you two, enough. Ugh, do you have to try and eat each other everywhere we go?” Ron said as he rolled his eyes. “Let’s go see Fred and George. They’ve got to have some new stuff by now.”

They stopped by Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, where much to everyone’s surprise, Draco bought a huge amount of merchandise. This broke down any barrier that might have existed between he and the twins immediately. That evening, everyone had dinner at the Leaky Cauldron, and it turned out that Fred, George and Draco had a very similar, warped sense of humor. By the time everyone said their good-byes, Draco had been made an honorary twin, and had promised to wreak some much needed havoc at Hogwarts in their honor, and to brainstorm some new items with them over Christmas.

Very soon, thanks to the Knight Bus’s speed, they were back at Hogwarts. Remus crushed all of Draco’s dreams of still getting into his packages by offering to take them to his room until Harry could come and wrap them. Harry immediately accepted his offer. Draco scowled; he was liking the werewolf less and less.

Later, as he and Harry lie in bed, Harry began asking Draco very strange questions. He suddenly seemed very interested in Draco’s relatives. He asked if there were any of them still alive, how many there were, if anyone still had control over the Malfoy family. Draco was a bit annoyed to see that Harry seemed quite relieved when he told him that he was, in fact, the last of the Malfoys. Lucius had been an only child, as was Draco. The only close living relative he had was his Aunt Bellatrix, and Draco thought it best not to remind Harry of that particular relation.

Then, Harry asked him another strange question. “Draco, do you think we’re average sixteen year olds?”

Draco thought a moment. “No, I don’t. I think we probably think about sex just as much, but unlike a lot of people our age, we can actually act on those thoughts.”

Harry looked at him as if he were daft. “That’s not what I mean, you tit. I meant, you know, emotionally?”

Draco stared at him, concerned. “Why so serious tonight? I knew what you meant, but honestly, you’re being dead depressing.”

Harry just continued to stare at him, eyes filled with the stubborn look Draco had grown to despise in the last few months. There’d be no moving on until Harry had finished his business.

Draco sighed. “Fine. No, I don’t. We both had shitty childhoods. We’ve both had pretty shitty adolescences. You’ve lived under the enormous pressure of your scar, I of my last name. We’ve both lost a lot of important things.” Draco sighed again. “You know Harry, I don’t think either one of us has been sixteen since we were about three. And, I’d like to thank you. I’m depressed now.” He rolled over and put his back to Harry.

Harry smiled. “So you think we might be in a position to make some serious life decisions? I mean, you think we’ve lived enough?”

Draco flopped back over and looked at him. “What is this about? Are you still on about that Quidditch thing? Mr. Vanmere is in negotiations with them and you have until my birthday to decide. Yes, Harry, do what you think is best, whatever it is you’re on about. Of course you’re old enough to make your own decisions. I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever had anyone to make them for you, now is it?”

Harry looked back at Draco. “No, it’s not. Thanks, now I’m depressed. But,” he said as casually as possible, “I still know what you’re getting for your birthday. And who knows, I might not be able to contain that knowledge if I were, say, caught in the throes of passion.” Harry put his arms around Draco’s waist and began to stroke his stomach in a way that he knew Draco liked. He thought he’d also top it off by softly biting his neck.

Draco pushed him away. “I have a better plan. Maybe a lack of passion would unseal those lips of yours.” With that, he firmly pushed Harry’s hand off his stomach and flipped over on his side, back to Harry once again.

Harry grabbed him roughly and pulled him against him, grinding his hips against Draco’s backside. “I like you this way just fine, although I do enjoy it more when I can see your face.” He began biting Draco’s neck a bit harder while working with the tie on his pajama bottoms.

Draco sat straight up. “Get off me, Potter. I’ve just decided that until you tell me what you got me for my birthday, you can’t touch me.” He put his most determined look forward, and stared at the shocked face of a very horny Gryffindor.

Harry, who had been deprived of Draco’s touch all day, was taken aback at the thought of no sex for almost a week. But he was determined not to let Draco win. He lay down placidly on his back and pulled the covers to his chin. “Fine, if that’s how you want it. Good night then.” With that, Harry rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He started to think of every disgusting thing he could, trying to cool himself off.

Draco, every bit as turned on as Harry, was equally determined not to let him win. “That’s a good boy then. Good night love,” he said, and leaned over and kissed Harry sweetly on the cheek. He turned and pressed his back against Harry’s. Even that innocent bit of touching was almost too much for him.

Manipulative little brat, Harry thought, still wide awake.

Bloody stubborn prat, Draco thought, also still wide awake.

It was a long, long time before either boy slept.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

It was well past noon when Draco heard someone clearing their throat outside Harry’s bed.

“Mr. Malfoy, are you in there?” Professor McGonagall said cautiously.

Oh, shit, Draco thought. He sat up and peeked from behind the bed hangings. “Yes, Professor?”

“Professor Dumbledore would like to see you as soon as possible. It’s rather urgent. You may want to bring Mr. Potter as well.”

Draco thought her voice was unusually kind considering where she had found him. He and Harry were supposed to be being more discreet, after all.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I think you should wait and talk to Dumbledore, Draco. Good day.” She had not met his eyes at all.

Full of dread, Draco shook Harry awake.

Minutes later, the boys appeared in Dumbledore’s office, unshowered and frumpy.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. Please sit down.” Dumbledore said.

Harry scowled. He wasn’t fully awake yet and the last person he wanted to see was sitting across from him.

“Draco, Professor Snape has some rather horrible news for you. I am sorry for having to put you through this so close to your birthday, but I think honesty is always best, if not always easiest,” Dumbledore said sadly as he patted Draco on the arm.

Draco’s eyes darted from Dumbledore to Snape. “What is it Severus?” He was holding on to Harry’s forearm with a death grip.

“I attended a meeting of the Death Eaters last evening, Draco. We discussed your father and you at great lengths.”

Draco gulped.

Snape continued. “Your father has been given a mission by the Dark Lord. It seems that word of your relationship with Potter,” he spat the name, “has finally reached the compound. The Dark Lord has ordered your father to kill you, before Christmas if at all possible. Therefore, you will not be allowed off Hogwarts grounds, unless accompanied by the Headmaster or myself.” He sent a steely look at Harry, who glared right back. There was no way Snape was escorting Draco anywhere if Harry had anything to do with it.

Professor Snape looked at Dumbledore. “Perhaps Mr. Potter should leave the room. This next bit is rather personal.”

Dumbledore gave the professor an unhappy, stern look. “No, Severus. I feel certain that Draco will need Harry with him.”

Snape shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Draco, your mother is dead. Apparently, she insisted on trying to retrieve you from Malfoy Manor the night she helped your father escape Azkaban. For reasons known only to your father, he killed her as she made the demand. I am sorry, Draco. You know how I loved your mother.”

Beside Harry, Draco had gone an alarming shade of white. He smiled at Snape. “That can’t be Professor. My father’s letter… he said she was still alive and looking forward to seeing me again.”

Harry took Draco’s hand, his heart breaking for him. Not for the first time, he felt completely ineffectual.

Snape sighed. “I think Lucius was lying to try and draw you out of the castle, Draco. I assure you, Narcissa is dead. Your aunt Bellatrix told me.”

Harry felt his blood run cold at the mention of her name. His eyes flared.

“She also told me about Lucius’ order to kill you on sight. She wanted to make sure I saved you, Draco.”

“He doesn’t need you to save him. That bitch was probably lying anyway, she’s a murderer herself.” His voice was shaking with anger.

Dumbledore shook his head. “I don’t think so, Harry. I was afraid something like this was going to happen. Lucius Malfoy and the Dark Lord do not forgive and forget. What happened to Draco at the Ministry this summer, and what is happening between the two of you right now, would have been two of the most grievous things Draco could have done. It makes sense that this would be the recourse that they would take.”

Harry shook his head. “Let them try to hurt him, I’ll fucking rip their eyes out of their heads.” The energy around had grown significantly. The papers on Dumbledore’s desk started to ripple as if blown by a breeze.

It was a quiet sob from Draco that broke the tension. “He killed my mother? She’s really dead?”

Snape glared at Harry. You insensitive bastard, he pushed into Harry’s mind. Harry ignored him, for the moment, and pulled Draco to him.

“Yes, Draco. I am sorry. I asked one of the others after I had spoken with Bellatrix, and they confirmed the story. He killed her in front of the prison and set her body on fire.”

“That’s enough, you bloody vampire!” Harry screamed.

“He has a right to know, Mr. Potter.” Snape’s voice dripped venom. He reached over to touch Draco, and Harry angrily slapped his hand away. “Don’t you touch him. You’ve done enough.”

Snape’s face flushed crimson with anger. “How dare you,” he growled, “I have known him since he was a child. I knew his mother. I am a family friend, not just some selfish teenage boy with overblown hormones wanting to get into his knickers.”

“No, you’re a disgusting old man who wants to take advantage of the situation to get into his knickers. I swear, I will-“

“SHUT UP!” Draco cried as he stood. “Enough! My mother is dead, and the two of you are having a bloody pissing contest. Just shut up!” He turned to Dumbledore. “Can we go?”

Dumbledore nodded sadly. “If there is anything I can do for you Draco, do not hesitate to ask.”

Draco stood looking a bit lost in Dumbledore’s office. “Thank you, Severus. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to tell me this.”

Snape tried to smile. “I’m glad it was me, though it was hard.” He glared at Harry once more.

Harry had turned all his attention to Draco and did not notice. Snape no longer existed for him. He took Draco’s hand and led him to the door.

“You want to go for a walk or something?” he asked Draco as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“No, Harry. I think I want to go back to bed. In my room. I need to be alone for a bit.”

Harry nodded and they began the walk to the Slytherin dungeon. He put Draco to bed and stood looking down at him for a moment.

“Want me to stay in the common room until you get up?” Harry asked.

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll come to your room when I’m ready.”

Harry did not want to go. He stood for a moment longer, and then Draco lay down and turned his back to him. Not knowing what else to do, Harry leaned over and kissed him on his forehead. “I love you, Draco,” he whispered.

”I love you too, Harry. I’ll see you later.” He turned over and gave Harry a quick smile and squeezed his hand. He rolled back over and pulled the covers up. Harry sighed, drew the curtains around him, and left the dungeon.

Outside the Slytherin common room door, Harry slid down and sat on the floor. He ignored the Slytherins that gave him strange looks as they came and went, hour after hour, and did not budge. He would be nearby if Draco needed him.

Chapter Text

Draco laid in his bed cried quietly for several hours. He kept seeing scenes of his mother in his mind’s eye-the two of them playing when he was small; the happiness in her eyes at dinner each evening and at night when she came to tuck him in after his father had separated them; how he had hurt her over and over again as he had gotten older, saying and doing horrible things to her to make his father happy. His mother had never been cruel to him, she had always loved him, he knew that now. Even later, when he had withdrawn from her, she still had made every attempt to reach out to him. It had been her that had kept his father from sending him to Durmstrang, her that sent him sweets from home once a week. She had always intervened on his behalf when his father tried to hurt him in front of her. He cried bitterly now, realizing the hard truth that he would never be able to reconcile with her. He would never be able to tell her he was sorry for abandoning her for his father. The father who had killed her, and was now planning to kill him. Draco cried to think that he had ever trusted his father or found him compelling in any way. His father was a brute, a killer. He had taken advantage of Draco’s need to be loved and had intimidated he and his mother his whole life. And now, he had left Draco with nothing, not even his mother’s body to put in the ground. He had left Draco alone in a world divided into two sides, neither of which accepted him. The Dark Lord’s followers considered him a traitor, a disgrace. The Ministry’s Side viewed him as a threat and a potential enemy. Draco was an outcast.

His pillow and his hair were wet from tears. He had fallen into an uneasy sleep at some point, and woke now to find it dark in the dorm. He sat up and pulled back the hangings around his bed, one thought on his mind.

Harry. He needed Harry like he had never needed anyone or anything in his life.

Draco felt awful. He had not showered, and was still wearing his clothes from the day before. His eyes were swollen and his throat hurt from crying. He got up and got some clean clothes and went down the corridor to the common room. He would go find Harry, take a shower, and just lie in bed and let Harry hold him all night.

As he entered the common room, he could see a group of his friends still up and studying in front of the fire. Americus Zabini spoke to him as he passed.

“Are you and Potter fighting?” she asked.

“No, why?” Draco asked, clearly confused.

“Well, I just thought maybe you guys had broken up,” she had with a hopeful tone, “since you’ve been upset all afternoon and he’s been sitting outside the dungeon door the whole time.”

Draco’s eyes moved towards the door, a stricken look on his face. “What? He’s out there now?”

“Last time I checked, yes,” Americus replied. She was pouting, as it was clear to her that Draco was not angry with Harry at all.

Draco ran to the common room door and said the password. He stepped into the hallway, and looking down, felt tears well in his eyes again.

Harry was lying on the floor, curled in a ball, fast asleep. He had taken off his robe and spread it over him as a blanket, and his sweater was wadded into a ball under his head. His glasses were askew across his face.

Draco dropped his clothes and fell to his knees. He shook Harry gently. “Love, what on earth are you doing on the floor?”

Harry’s eyes peeked opened and he looked up at Draco. He straightened his glasses and grabbed Draco in a tight embrace.

“Are you okay?” he asked him, voice shaky. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

Draco was crying again. “Have you been out here the whole time?”

“Well, yeah. I wanted to be close in case you decided you needed me after all.” He pulled Draco away from him and wiped the tears from his face. Harry felt like crying too, he felt so powerless to do anything for his crying boyfriend.

Draco flung himself against Harry’s chest and cried harder. He could not put into words how much he needed Harry, and the entire time, he’d been sitting outside the door waiting for him, needing him.

“Harry, I’m so sorry, I had no idea you were out here. I’ve been laying in there feeling sorry for myself, and you--”

Harry cut him off. “Stop, I sat out here because I wanted to. You wanted to be alone, but I couldn’t just leave. You’ve nothing to apologize for.” Harry gently lifted his face and kissed him softly. He looked at Draco’s tired and tear stained face. “I feel gross. Let’s go take a shower, then we’ll go down to the kitchens and get something to eat. That might make you feel a little better.”

Draco nodded, and Harry lifted him to his feet. He picked up the clothes Draco had dropped, and the two made their away from the dungeon hand in hand.

The boys decided to eat first, as neither of them had eaten all day, and returned to Gryffindor Tower overly stuffed. The house elves had practically force fed them, with the exception of Dobby, who had run and hidden at the sight of Draco. Harry would talk to him later. They entered the common room to find Ron, Hermione, and Ginny Weasley sitting anxiously by the fire.

Hermione stood at once and went to Draco and took him in her arms. She held him for a minute, then whispered “I’m so sorry, Draco. What can we do?” in his ear.

Draco pulled away and smiled sadly. “You’re doing it. I’m just afraid I’m not going to be much fun for a while.”

Ron got up next and he too hugged Draco. “We’re here for you, mate. Just let us know what you need.”

“Right now, we need a shower,” Harry said to his friends, lightly touching Draco on his back. “I’m going to go get my pajamas and I’ll be right back, okay?”

Draco sighed and made an attempt at his famous smirk. “Yes, Harry, I’m not an invalid, I’ll be fine.” He smiled, reached out and gently squeezed Harry’s hand. Harry squeezed back and left.

Hermione spoke cautiously. “Dumbledore told us about…..everything. He said to tell you that he would come to Grimmauld this year for Christmas so that you could still go. He’s very worried about you and your father….”

Draco sat on the couch next to her. “Well, at least there’s some good news today,” he said.

Harry came trotting down the stairs carrying both boy’s nightclothes. He stopped behind Draco and kissed him on his cheek. “You ready? You’re getting smelly.”

Draco looked up at him and smiled. “I’m a Malfoy, you dolt. It’s not possible that I smell.”

Harry smiled back, but the sad, faraway look in Draco’s eyes was killing him.

In the shower, Draco had leaned against Harry and let him hold him for so long that the water had started to get cold. Harry reached out and got his wand and spelled the water hot again. There was plenty of it; the school had just set timers to prevent students from taking long showers. He finally took a cloth and washed Draco off and then washed his hair. Draco made no objections, just stood silently and let Harry take care of him.

By the time they went to bed, it was quite late. The two lay down and Harry pulled Draco to him. He kissed him lightly, not sure what the blonde needed. They began to kiss more deeply, but then Draco started to cry.

Harry stroked his back tenderly. “It’s okay, love, it’s okay,” he soothed.

Draco was sobbing. Harry put a silencing spell around the bed, knowing Draco would want no one else to hear him cry.

“No, no it’s not. I was so horrible to her the past couple of years. I treated her like shit. She died because of me, Harry. Because she was worried about me. And all along, I’ve been this horrible, horrible person, to her and to everyone else. I actually started to believe the shit my father told me about her in the end. How could she still love me? How could anyone love me?” He broke down in body wrenching sobs and curled into a ball.

Harry tried to kiss away every tear that fell from Draco’s eyes. Harry held him and kissed him and told him he was wrong about everything, that he was wonderful and that his mother loved him. He told him he loved him as many times as Draco questioned it. At long last, Draco fell into a deep, exhausted sleep. Harry stayed awake much longer, stroking his hair and kissing his eyelids. He whispered ‘I love you’ over and over into his sleeping ears.

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The week went by very slowly for both boys. Harry could hardly stand to be away from Draco, even for class. He started leaving his classes a couple of minutes early so he could be waiting for Draco outside his classroom door. The teachers were very understanding and said nothing to him about it. Dumbledore even cancelled all of Harry’s after hour’s lessons until after Christmas so that he could be with Draco in the evenings.

Draco had appealed to the Ministry to allow him back onto the Malfoy estate to hold a memorial for his mother, but they had denied his request, stating it was too dangerous with Lucius Malfoy still at large. Draco had become extremely angry and had lashed out at everyone around him. He had accused Hermione and Ron of laughing at him behind his back, and had accused Harry of plotting to leave him. He had come back from a long walk and crying jag by the lake, only to find Harry waiting for him on the front steps of the castle. He had apologized profusely to everyone, quite embarrassed by his behavior. They had all forgiven him immediately, leaving him shocked and relieved.

Draco had actually forgotten all about his birthday. He had been living the week in some weird other world that had no time or dates. Friday arrived, but he had no idea that it was any different than the other days he had just sleepwalked through, until Harry came to him after his last class and blindfolded him.

“What are you doing, Harry?” he had asked.

“I’m taking you to your birthday party, you dolt. Take my hand, and just follow me,” Harry had said as he took his book bag from him and led him down the crowded hall. They soon reached a much less crowded and less noisy part of the castle. Draco found that he was growing excited, despite himself.

He heard a door open in front of him, and Harry reached around and took the blindfold off.

They had decorated one of the small banquet rooms that Dumbledore used for guests in Slytherin colors, green and silver. On the table there was a huge cake with white icing that said ‘Happy Sixteenth Birthday, Draco’. There was a large green dragon swirling around the edges, shooting fire over the top of the cake. Presents were stacked high at one end of the table. When everyone saw Draco in the doorway, they shouted ‘Surprise!’ and clapped raucously. Ron, Hermione, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Lupin and Professor Snape were there, as well as a few Slytherins that Harry had invited.

Draco stood shocked in the doorway for a moment. Harry nudged him forward, whispering in his ear “Everyone’s waiting for you, love.”

Draco turned and looked at him, then hugged him so tight that Harry squeaked. “You’re breaking my ribs,” he managed to get out, and Draco let him go with a sheepish grin.

“Thank you, Harry. This is wonderful.” He felt tears welling in his eyes, and buried his head in Harry’s shoulder until he could compose himself.

“Hurry up, you prat. I’m dying to get into this cake!” Ron yelled at Draco.

Draco laughed. He was finally beginning to understand what Harry saw in Ron. “I want to open my presents first, Weasel, so you’ll just have to wait. There are more important things than your stomach.”

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and smiled. It was the first time Draco had sounded truly like himself since he had received the news of his mother’s death.

Draco moved to the end of the table and began shaking package after package. He separated Harry’s from the rest and set them aside. “Yours last,” he said to the Gryffindor.

“What?” Harry demanded. “You drove me batty about those and now you’re waiting till last? I’ll never understand how your mind works, if I live to be a hundred.” The two boys smiled at one another, eyes full of love.

Draco tore through the gifts like a small child. It was fun to watch the abandonment with which he opened his gifts. Everyone laughed heartily when Draco opened Ron’s gift; he had wrapped up Harry’s flannel pajamas and proceeded to tell everyone the story about how he had found Draco smelling Harry’s shirt that day. Harry kissed him on his cheek, having heard the story for the first time, but he would never let Draco live it down. Finally, Draco made it to Harry’s gifts.

He opened the stuffed dragon first. Harry was afraid how he might react to the gift since his mother’s death, but he was pleased to see that Draco was absolutely delighted. He even seemed to like the fact that it was from a Muggle shop, and stated that his opinions of Muggles might improve now that he knew they liked dragons. Next he opened a Magpies jersey that Harry had gotten from the team. Harry and Ron both had signed with the team, and Mr. Vanmere had indeed improved their offers quite a bit. Draco turned it over, saw the number ‘31’ on the back and the name ‘Potter’ written at the top. “Marking me, are you?” he asked, and everyone laughed again. He tore through all the little gifts Harry had gotten him: beautiful, hand blown crystal bottles for potions, huge leather bound registries that could be used as journals or for recording figures, the Muggle children’s literature, candles and intricately carved mahogany candlesticks, hair products (which warranted yet another laugh from the crowd) and fine quills and a variety of shimmery inks. When he had finished, he had grabbed Harry and kissed him passionately. Again, everyone clapped.

“Let’s eat cake!” Draco cried.

Harry looked to Ron and Hermione, who seemed to be digging through Ron’s book bag.

“Where are they Ron? You didn’t forget them, did you?” Hermione whispered.

“No, Hermione, I swear, they’re here somewhere,” Ron replied, continuing to dig.

“Weasley, what are you doing? I said ‘cake’ and yet you don’t seem interested,” Draco drawled, craning his neck to try and see what Ron was up to.

“Ah ha!” cried Ron, seizing a small, beautifully wrapped silver package with a large green ribbon from his bag and turning to Draco. “You’re not quite done yet, Malfoy. You’ve got one more from your better half there,” he said, smiling at Harry.

Harry became very nervous and began to bite his nails. He knew that Draco would like the mirrors, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Everyone grew quiet as Draco took the package from Ron and lightly shook it.

“It’s heavy,” he said, looking at Harry with excitement. “What is it?”

“Open it and find out.” Harry said with a smile.

Draco took his time, carefully folding the velvet ribbon and silver paper after he had painstakingly removed them. He opened the box and took out the first mirror. It was in a thick, black velvet damask drawstring bag. Draco ran his fingers over the velvet and slowly undid the tie.

It was the Slytherin mirror. He held it up and gasped. “Oh Harry! This is beautiful! I, I …I don’t know what to say.” He stroked the form of the snake with his index finger.

“There’s another one,” Harry pointed out, feeling as excited as Draco looked.

Draco pulled the other mirror from the box and pulled it from the matching velvet bag. He gasped again. “Slytherin and Gryffindor! These are so cool! Where did you find them?”

Harry was grinning at Draco’s amazement. “Look on the back of that one,” he said, pointing to the Slytherin mirror. Draco picked it up and read the inscription from Winston to Alicia. Underneath this, the words ‘Draco, To keep us together, too. Love, Harry’ had been engraved. Draco ran his finger over the inscriptions.

“Harry, what do they do?” he whispered. Hermione was crying and sniffing. Ron rolled his eyes at her and put his arm around her waist.

Harry picked up the Gryffindor mirror and held it in front of his face. “Turn yours over,” he said to Draco.

Draco did. He gasped again as he saw Harry’s face looking back at him. “They’re two way mirrors,” the Harry in the mirror said to him. “We can always talk to each other, no matter what, as long as we have these.” Harry smiled as Draco put his finger to his face in the mirror in front of him. Too bad I can’t feel that, he thought. “They could come in handy next year when I have to travel,” he finished.

Draco put the mirror down very carefully and looked at Harry. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. After a moment, one tear, then another fell slowly from the corners of his eyes. The room had grown silent, but the silence was now broken as Hermione sobbed into Ron’s shoulder. Everyone laughed appreciatively.

Draco threw his arms around Harry and kissed him again. “Harry, I’m speechless. These are beautiful. I can’t believe, I mean, they’re so perfect. I, don’t, I mean. I don’t know what to say.” He hugged Harry again.

“I know what to say!” It was Ron again. “Now, LET’S EAT CAKE!” A couple of people cried ‘Hear, hear’ and Professor Dumbledore began passing plates around as Professor Lupin cut the cake into pieces for everyone. People were opening butterbeers and talking animatedly, and someone had started playing a Weird Sister’s CD.

“Hey, wait!” Hermione cried. “We didn’t let Draco blow out his candles or make a wish! Where is he?”

Everyone looked around, but Harry and Draco had disappeared.

Chapter Text

WARNING!!! The first section of this chapter is pretty much all sex. It’s sweet, loving sex not hardcore, dirty sex, but sex just the same. If you’re too young or don’t want to read it, please scroll down to the first set of squiggly’s and start there.

THANKS FOR ALL THE GREAT REVIEWS AND EMAILS!! YOU ARE THE BEST EVER!!1

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As everyone was passing plates and helping themselves to Draco’s birthday cake, Harry and Draco had become lost in a deep, passionate kiss.

As someone began playing the Weird Sisters CD, Draco pulled away from Harry and whispered to him “Harry, I need you. Now.”

Harry smiled at Draco as the two of them stood and clasped each other’s hands. “You stole my line,” he drawled. He had been about to protest, thinking that everyone would be angry at them for leaving the party, but the look in Draco’s eyes chased the words from his lips. Harry found that he needed him, now, too.

They walked in a daze back to the Gryffindor Tower. It was Friday night, and the place was deserted. Harry led Draco upstairs.

They paused by the bed and fell into another kiss. Draco had his arms wrapped around Harry’s neck, but Harry was running his hands over Draco’s body, almost shyly. They had not touched each other this way since Draco had received the news about his mother. For Harry, it was almost like the first time again, his need and reverence were so great.

He slowly unclasped the hinge on Draco’s robe, hands trembling slightly, and let it fall to the ground by the bed. He broke away from the blonde’s lips only to lift his sweater over his head. Languidly, he pulled Draco’s button down oxford from the waistband of his trousers, and began to undo the buttons. He slid the shirt off, hands gliding over Draco’s shoulders and down his back as he did so. Draco had undone Harry’s robes, and they broke briefly again to remove Harry’s sweater. Once they had Harry’s shirt removed, they pressed themselves flush and kissed for what seemed like an eternity.

Harry ran his hands over Draco’s torso and back as if he would never be able to do so again. His hands were firm, yet gentle, and did not miss an inch of the beautiful, exposed white flesh. Soft sounds of pleasure escaped both their throats.

Harry lay Draco gently on the bed and undid his trousers. As he removed them, he once ran his hands the full length of Draco’s legs and feet, lingering on his firm, smooth thighs. When he had finished undressing Draco, he stood and hastily undressed himself under the weight of Draco’s hungry stare.

Harry stood for a moment and drank in the sight before him. Draco was lying on his back in the center of the bed, arms lifted above his head. Harry reached out and traced his collarbones, ribs and hipbones with his fingertips. Draco shuddered and closed his eyes, mouth falling open just the slightest bit. His stomach rose and fell with the quickness of his breaths.

It suddenly became imperative that Harry kiss every inch of Draco’s body. God, I am pathetic, he thought to himself, it’s only been a week, and I can barely control myself. Draco was so beautiful lying there, his heart felt as if it would burst. Harry climbed onto the bed at the Slytherin’s feet. He picked up one foot and kissed the top of it, and smiled as Draco giggled. His feet are ticklish, have to remember that for later, he thought idly. He moved up to Draco’s ankle, and the giggling was replaced by a sharp intake of breath. Harry lingered for a moment, running his tongue in circles around the bone, then dragging it up his shin to his knee. Draco shivered as Harry nibbled the sensitive flesh just above his kneecap, then moaned as Harry worked his way up his inner thigh. Teasingly, Harry moved right to his hipbone, alternately biting and licking. Draco was moaning Harry’s name over and over and running his fingers through his messy black hair. Harry moved left, barely touching his lips to Draco’s stomach, which was very sensitive, causing Draco to arch up in an attempt to increase the pressure, but Harry only moved away, causing him to whine. Harry smiled again, and continued up to Draco’s chest. He spent significant time on Draco’s nipples, biting, kissing and blowing on them until they stood erect and were flushed almost red. He very lightly nibbled Draco’s collarbones until the blonde was tossing his head back and forth with abandon.

Harry nuzzled into Draco’s neck, just inhaling his scent, before relentlessly sucking on the muscles that were straining there. At long last, he pressed himself on top of Draco and kissed him hungrily, their bodies moving together in a slow, steady rhythm.

“I missed you,” Harry whispered in Draco’s ear. Draco had no words for Harry, he just pulled him into another kiss in response.

They stayed this way for a long time, just enjoying the sensation of skin on skin, lips on lips, tongue wrapped around tongue. Harry finally pulled away, and began making his way down the other side of Draco’s body. When he reached his hips this time, however, he stopped to stroke Draco’s erection with his fingertips, and flick his tongue over the tip. Draco cried out loudly, sank his fingers into Harry’s hair, and threw his head back. Harry watched his face through half closed eyes as he swallowed the Slytherin whole.

Draco had never felt so exquisite in his whole life. Harry was touching him as if he would evaporate and disappear were he to stop. Each touch from Harry sent small shocks coursing through his body. He gripped the sheets so tightly that he pushed his fingers through in some places, willing himself not to come as his lover took him in his mouth.

Harry worked Draco to the very brink before pulling away. Draco whimpered loudly and threw his head to the side, panting hard. Harry just watched him for a moment, before making his way back down to the blonde’s other foot.

When he was done, Harry reached for his wand. Draco had showed him a nice little spell that provided a wonderful, cocoa flavored lubricant.

Harry stood on his knees, straddling Draco’s waist. Draco was lying with his eyes closed, moaning softly. He jerked as Harry’s thighs touched his sides.

“Draco, open your eyes and look at me,” Harry whispered.

Draco did. He inhaled sharply. Harry was looming over him, stroking himself. He placed his other hand on Draco’s stomach for support and looked deeply into Draco’s eyes.

“I’m going to make love to you now. And I promise, when I’m done, when we’re done, you will never doubt that I love you again.”

With that, Harry gently spread the Slytherin’s thighs and lowered himself between them. After making sure that Draco was ready, he sank slowly into him. Draco cried out again, and left a trail of fingernail marks down Harry’s back.

The gentleness of Harry’s slow thrusts was exquisite and maddening. If someone had ventured in and ask Draco his name, he could not have told them. He was wholly lost in the perfection of the moment, only aware that he and Harry were one. Harry’s energy was so intense he could have deflected a slew of spells without a thought. A soft, silvery pale aura seemed to surround them.

Draco felt Harry tense up and heard his breath quicken and prepared himself to ride out what was sure to be a very intense orgasm on Harry’s behalf. Much to Draco’s surprise, Harry stopped and pulled himself out. Draco whimpered yet again, wondering if Harry was trying to torture him.

Harry rolled over on his back and pulled Draco on top of him. “I love you Draco. Don’t worry, we’re not done by a long shot.”

The two kissed each other again, and Draco took Harry’s wand and said the spell for himself. He pushed himself onto his knees, now hovering above the Gryffindor, and made Harry watch as he stroked himself. Harry made no sound as Draco entered him, but a spasm of pure pleasure made his body buck uncontrollably beneath the blonde.

Just as Harry had done, Draco pushed himself to the very edge, then pulled away, collapsing onto Harry’s chest. Harry moved from underneath him, turned on his side and pulled Draco’s back press against his front. Wrapping his arms tightly around Draco’s chest, he entered him again.

Draco thought his mind would break from the pleasure, as it wasn’t a pleasure that was wholly physical. He felt connected to Harry in a way that he never had before. If Harry had gotten up and left at that moment, Draco was sure that he would have died. But Harry did not leave, only continued to love Draco, until he was almost ready to burst.

Again, he pulled away. He kissed Draco’s shoulders and back, then pulled Draco to face him, then rolled over himself. Draco sank into his lover once again, Harry’s hands behind him, pushing him on.

When Draco was almost there and clearly not going to stop, Harry gently moved away from him. Draco groaned in protest, but stopped when Harry rolled onto his back and pulled him on top of him, pushing his hips down so that Draco was once again inside him. Draco’s pace increased and his fingertips sank into Harry’s hips.

“Oh God, Harry, I’m going to die, I think. I’m coming, oh Merlin,” he panted.

Harry took his face in his hands, clearly having been waiting for this moment. “Do you know I love you, Draco?”

Draco forced his eyes open and looked into Harry’s eyes. They were bottomless seas of green, and the expression in them was of infinite love.

“Yes, Harry, I know, oh, oh God,” Draco said as he exploded into Harry, collapsing on the Gryffindor what seemed like an eternity later. He was surprised to feel tears coursing down his cheeks, and something hot and warm on his stomach. Harry, it seemed, had come as well.

The two lay in silence for a very long time, running their hands lovingly over each other’s bodies.

Finally, Draco spoke. “Harry, I don’t know what you just did to me, but I want you to know that I will never be able to leave you. You could cheat on me, lie to me, beat the shit out of me, whatever, and I don’t think I could leave. You’re stuck with me.” He nuzzled into Harry’s chest. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

Harry smiled and stroked Draco’s hair. “I would never do any of that to you. I love you, I hope you get that now. I couldn’t live without you.”

Draco looked up at Harry, a mere mortal again now that his emotions were back in check, but still the most perfect thing Draco had ever seen. “I love you, too, Harry. And I will never question you again. Unless I need you to prove it to me again,” he added with a wicked smirk.

If Harry had known the proper words and had already spoken to the right people about it, he would have asked Draco to commit to him, right then and there, rings or no rings. He almost did it anyway. But he wanted to do things properly, he felt Draco deserved that much. Instead, he curled himself around Draco, his soul mate, his other half, and sighed contentedly. “I intend to spend my whole life proving it to you,” he said as he stared into Draco’s eyes.

The two of them noticed that they could now hear voices around them in the dormitory. Neville and Seamus seemed to be having a quiet conversation next to them.

Draco looked alarmed. “Did they hear us?” he whispered.

Harry rolled on his back and yelled “Neville, Seamus, can you hear us?”

The two boys only continued talking quietly.

“Nope,” said Harry.

“But, I didn’t put a silencing spell on us,” said Draco.

Harry smiled. “I think I did it subconsciously. Crap,” he said, sounding put out.

“What?” Draco asked, once again awed by how powerful Harry’s magic had become. He couldn’t control it at all when his emotions were high, it seemed.

“I was just thinking how Lupin would react when he heard about this. He’s going to work me like a house elf until I can do every spell in the great wizarding world without a wand.”

Draco smiled. “I feel sorry for all those poor blokes who have to play you in Quidditch next year. You can smite them with a look.”

“That would hardly be fair Draco,” Harry said, clearly distressed by the idea. The Slytherin rolled his eyes. Harry was too good to be true sometimes.

Outside the bed, they heard two new voices approaching. It was Ron and Hermione.

“Hey, we know you guys are in there!” called Ron as he shook the hangings around Harry’s bed.

“Yes, we brought Draco some of his cake and all his presents,” Hermione said. Draco sat up and peeked out of the hangings. There was a large plate of cake on the nightstand, and he could see her and Ron stacking his gifts at the foot of Harry’s bed.

“You guys should have been in here a minute ago,” Seamus said to them, “They had that huge four poster rocking like a ship.”

Draco and Harry looked at each other and had the dignity to blush at that comment.

Draco poked his head out. “Shut up, you Irish prat. No one can understand that hideous accent of yours anyway!” He looked at Ron and Hermione. “I’m sorry we left. Something came up.”

Ron smirked. “I’m sure it did. What’s wrong with you hair, Malfoy?”

Draco’s hand shot to the back of his head. There was another huge knot there. He groaned.

Harry leaned out beside Draco and smiled mischievously. “Fuck knot,” he said nonchalantly.

Ron and Hermione blushed now, and Draco smacked him on his arm.

“Too much information, Potter, too much information,” Seamus said. Neville’s face was bright red.

Ron and Hermione walked to Ron’s bed and looked back at Harry and Draco, still peering out from behind the bed hangings. “We’ll see you two tomorrow. Perverts” Ron said with mock disgust. Hermione gave them a little wave, and the two of them got into bed.

Harry leaned back and pulled Draco with him. “Want to go take a shower and get that knot out of your hair? We could come back here, change the sheets and eat some cake after. It’s dark chocolate, your favorite,” he said.

Draco looked at him with a wry expression. “You’re not tired? I feel like I can barely move.”

Harry smiled. “We don’t have to, I just know how you are about your hair,” he replied.

Draco smiled back at him. “You’re right. I think I can manage to walk as far as the shower.”

The two boys got up, and Harry eyed the cake hungrily. “We’ve got to find some candles too. You didn’t get to make a wish,” he told Draco as he pulled on some clothes.

Draco wrapped his arms around him and kissed him softly. “I don’t need to make a wish, Harry.”

Harry kissed him back and the two made their way to the shower.

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Harry was making his way through the corridor bleary eyed and exhausted. He and Hermione had been up half the night in the library, reading up on what Harry had to do to propose to Draco properly. He had gotten up early this Sunday morning, made an excuse to Draco that he needed to have a talk with Dumbledore about an Occlumency technique, and had left the Tower to start putting things in order for Christmas.

As usual, Hermione had been right about most of the things she told him. The tradition stated that each person participating in the commitment had to have someone, a relative or other guardian, stand for him or her, both at the proposal and the ceremony. Technically, Harry could have gotten around this as his parents were dead, Draco’s mother was also dead, and his father in hiding. But Harry knew the Weasley’s would be upset if he didn’t include them in this, and therefore Draco had to have two people stand for him as well.

Harry had immediately thought of Dumbledore, who was now Draco’s legal guardian. He had found a book about the Malfoy family history and pored over it, looking for someone, anyone, who could take the place of the only other person he could think of that was close enough to Draco to be appropriate. But there had been no one, as Draco was the last Malfoy. This had left Harry with no choice but to do the unthinkable.

He came to the end of the hall, face to face with a huge, black, mahogany door. He stood and read the plaque on it with a dull expression and a knot forming in his stomach.

PROFESSOR SEVERUS SNAPE
Potions Master

KNOCK BEFORE ENTERING

Harry lifted his hand to do just that. He took a deep breath, paused a moment, and let his knuckles fall against the door.

Inside, Severus jumped slightly at the sound, and a few drops of the potion he was working on fell to the table. “Dammit,” he hissed. There were now holes where the liquid had just spilled. He carefully replaced the beaker he had been using to its’ rack, removed his dragon hide gloves, and swept towards the door.

“Who is there?” he cried, obviously irate.

Before Harry could answer, the door swung open. At once, Snape’s eyes narrowed into slits.

“Potter. I should have known. Why are you interrupting me?” he snapped.

Harry took another breath. “Um, May I come in? I need to speak with you for a moment,” he said politely.

Snape stared at him hatefully. The moment dragged on for so long that Harry almost told him to forget it and walked away.

But then Professor Snape spoke. “If you must,” he spat and moved aside for Harry to enter. He pointed to a black leather armchair that was in front of his overlarge writing desk. “Sit there. I’ll be with you shortly.”

Harry did as he was told. Professor Snape returned to his worktable and killed the flame underneath his cauldron, letting Harry stew for a moment before he addressed him. He swept to his desk, work robes billowing behind him, and sat down to face Harry. He fixed the boy with a cold stare.

“Well?” he said impatiently.

Harry flinched at the sound of his voice. He was starting to feel like this was the worst idea he had ever had, but as he was here now, he might as well give it a go. He cleared his throat and began.

“Look Professor, I know there is no love lost between us,” at this, Snape snorted loudly, “BUT,” Harry continued, “I need something very important from you. For Draco,” he finished, feeling a bit more confident now that he had started.

Professor Snape was running his finger over one spot on his desktop. “I forgot, I think, Mr. Potter, to thank you for the lovely inscription you fashioned on my desk. Fortunately for you, I was able to repair it in such a way that it left no trace.”

Harry inwardly groaned. He had forgotten all about carving ‘Severus loves Draco’ on the man’s desk. He didn’t bother to tell Snape that the spell he had used to put the words there was temporary and would not have marred his desk permanently.

“I apologize, that was childish of me. I’m glad there was no permanent damage,” he said as neutrally as he could.

“Not to the desk, anyway. Now what is it you want me to do for you now, Potter?” Snape said, his voice dangerous.

Harry almost got up and left again, but took a second to check his growing frustration and fear. “I am going to ask Draco to bond to me, or commit to me, or whatever you want to call it. I’m having the Weasley’s stand for me, therefore Draco needs two people to stand for him. I am going to ask Dumbledore. And I’m asking you, since you and Draco have been close all his life.”

Snape leaned forward on his desk and looked at Harry as if he’d gone mad. “Potter, why on Merlin’s beard would I approve of something so utterly idiotic? Bonding is one of the most ridiculous rituals in the whole wizarding world. Surely even you can see that.” He was talking to Harry like he was an extremely stupid four-year-old child.

Harry had to once again force himself to reign in his emotions. He would not let Snape draw him out like this. I’m here for Draco, he told himself firmly.

“I thought you might do it because I love Draco very much, and I think he loves me. I thought it might make him happy to know that he had the support of those he cares about.” Harry finished there, refusing to take Snape’s bait.

Snape sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “Potter, tell me. What makes you think your current teenaged infatuation is strong enough to last a lifetime? Beyond lifetimes, even. There is a reason that so few people do this anymore—it hardly ever works. Why is it you think you’re so special all the time?”

Harry smiled as he thought about Draco. He didn’t have to explain how he knew that he was right about this to Snape, he couldn’t explain it. He simply knew that he wanted to be with Draco forever, or die without him.

“I just know, sir. I know every time I look into his eyes, or hear his voice, or touch his skin,” Harry whispered, his face growing pink.

Professor Snape’s fingers formed a steeple under his chin, and he studying Harry intently. He, of course, knew that the two were very in love. Even someone like him, who had given up on such a thing years ago, could not deny it. He had watched them enviously the brief time they had been at Draco’s birthday party and would have had to have been blind not to notice the electricity between the two of them. Deep in his heart, Severus knew that what was happening between Harry and Draco was far more than just teenaged infatuation.

Harry was watching Professor Snape watch him. He’s going to say no just to be a prick, he thought to himself. Surely Snape knew that, despite his feelings for Draco, there was no chance for the two of them. Surely he wouldn’t let his own feelings for Draco interfere with this decision.

For the third time that morning, Harry found himself ready to throw in the towel. He stood up.

“Never mind. I just thought it might have—“

“When are you planning on doing this idiotic thing?” Snape asked.

Harry sat down hard in the armchair, completely shocked and feeling hopeful once more.
“Christmas night, after we’ve all opened our presents. At Grimmauld Place,” Harry stammered.

Snape looked at him, unmoved. “And I would be required to be there?”

“Yes.”

Another long moment dragged out in silence. Finally, Snape sighed.

“I will do this, Potter, for Draco, because I want him to have some real happiness at least once in his life. And even I can see that he has true feelings for you, though for what reason, I cannot imagine.” Harry could not stop the smile that was creeping over his features. “However, I have one condition,” Snape said.

Harry felt his heart drop. “What is that, sir?”

“That you wait until after your battle with Voldemort to perform the ceremony. That is, if you live through the fight. I don’t want Draco to bond with you and then you die. It would be unfair to Draco to give his life up at such a young age because you, once again, behaved irrationally by not waiting until the appropriate time to do this.”

Harry looked at the shrewd potions master with a mix of anger and respect. The very reason Harry had not wanted to wait to ask Draco to commit to him was because he was afraid he might die before he got the chance. Professor Snape was intelligent if nothing else.

“I can do that. That’s no problem,” Harry said, a smile of disbelief spreading across his face.

“No, Potter, that won’t do. You have to swear to me that it will not happen. Do you understand?”

Unsure what he meant to do, Harry stood and walked to Snape’s desk. He knelt down in front of him and placed his hand over his heart. “I swear to you that I will not ask Draco to commit to me until after I have fought and defeated Lord Voldemort.” His gaze never wavered from Snape’s cold, hard eyes.

“Get up, you imbecile,” Snape said, but he seemed satisfied. “What time am I to arrive Christmas evening?”

“I’ll have to check with Draco. He’s making all the Christmas arrangements. I think he’s planning on inviting you for dinner anyway,” Harry finished.

“Yes, well, we’ll see, won’t we? This might be better, after all, Potter. Now I don’t have to threaten to tear you limb from limb if you do anything to hurt Draco. If he says yes and you two go through with this moronic thing, anything you do to hurt him will only hurt you as well.”

Harry smiled at him. “It already would,” he said. “I’ll let you know what time to be there. And thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Snape scowled at him. “Go away, Potter. I was very busy when you interrupted me,” he said as he rose from his desk and turned his back on Harry. Harry quietly exited the office.

When Harry had gone, Snape went back and sat heavily in his chair. Well, he thought to himself, it’s not how I would have wanted to do it, but maybe I can do something to provide Draco some happiness after all. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling, his eyes unusually shiny.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Harry’s next stop was Professor Dumbledore’s office. He had owled the Headmaster yesterday to let him know he would be by sometime this morning. He felt far more awake and much lighter approaching this office. After Snape, even Mrs. Weasley would be a cakewalk.

Harry said the password and entered the office. He found Dumbledore still in his dressing gown, feeding a crooning Fawkes.

“Good morning, Harry! What business brings you here today? Finally come to talk to me about the proposal you plan to make to Draco over the holiday?” The Headmaster smiled at Harry’s befuddled expression. “Ah, yes. I was wondering when you would get around to speaking to me about it.” He beamed at Harry, eyes aglow.

Harry’s expression said it all. “How do you do that?” he cried. “No one knows about this except me, Ron and Hermione!”

“Oh, and a few well placed portraits, ghosts, spirits and house elves, Harry. Now, let’s sit and have some tea, shall we?”

Harry shook his head, but sat down across a coffee table from Dumbledore. “Well, since you know, I guess you know what I came to ask. Will you do it?”

“Harry, you don’t beat around the bush do you?” Dumbledore chuckled. “Yes, I will stand for Mr. Malfoy. Has Professor Snape agreed?”

He knows everything, Harry thought. “Yes. I just left there. I can’t believe it, really, but he finally said yes.”

Dumbledore stirred a large amount of sugar into his tea. “Yes, well, he does care for Draco very much. When are you planning on talking to the Weasley’s about it?”

“I’d like to do it sometime this week. I wanted to ask if I could do it here, in your office. That way I can make an excuse to get away from Draco for a bit, and there will be a neutral place we can all meet,” Harry said.

“And so I can help you placate Molly, I suspect,” Dumbledore said kindly. Harry nodded guiltily. “I will owl them today and set up the meeting for Wednesday night, after your Quidditch practice. I’ll send Minerva to the pitch to get you so you don’t have to lie to Draco.”

“Thank you. For everything this year, but especially this,” Harry said and took the old wizard’s hand.

Dumbledore smiled benevolently at Harry and withdrew his hand, patting Harry’s as he did so. He lifted his teacup and took a sip. “So, have you thought about where you will find someone to perform the ceremony?” he asked Harry over the rim of his cup.

“Er, no. Haven’t really gotten that far yet,” Harry answered. “Do you know anyone who’s qualified?”

“Well, yes, Harry. I’m qualified. I became a registered bonding wizard when your parents came to me and asked if I would preside over their ceremony. I performed the Weasley’s as well.”

Harry was taken totally by surprise by this bit of news. “You… my parents… they did this?” he whispered.

“Yes, they did. Your parents knew before they left Hogwarts that they were meant to be together as well. Really, I think James knew the minute he saw Lily. He asked her shortly before they graduated. We had to wait a year, as the training to become a bonding wizard is long and arduous, but they were engaged well before then. It was a beautiful occasion. I had always planned to tell you when you came to me and told me you’d found someone to spend your life with, and now that time has arrived. Would you like to hear about it?”

Harry nodded, as he didn’t think he’d be able to speak at the moment. Dumbledore smiled, and told him about his parents bonding.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Draco was playing chess with Ron on the floor in front of the fire when Harry returned. He walked over and rested himself next to Draco, wrapping his arms around the other boy’s waist. He began kissing Draco’s face over and over again with soft, sweet pecks.

Draco waved his hand at him. “Stop it Harry, you’re distracting me. I’m beating him at the moment, but he’s far better than I suspected, so I need to concentrate.” He turned to look at Harry, who was beaming at him. “Why are you looking at me like that, Potter?” Draco drawled.

Harry continued to smile as he stood. “I just love you. Where’s Hermione?”

“She’s in the library,” Ron answered, concentrating hard on the chessboard. Harry kissed Draco again and made for the door. “Don’t leave!” Ron cried. “Stay here and distract him! If he wins, I’ll never bloody hear the end of it!”

Harry just laughed. “You need to lose every now and then,” he replied. “Bye, love,” he said to Draco. Draco just waved at him, eyes never leaving the board. Harry gave him one last look, and with a huge smile plastered on his face, left to find Hermione.

Chapter Text

“Harry, wake up! We’ve already missed breakfast, and if you don’t hurry, we’re going to be late for Potions. You still have to shower!” Draco said as he shook his still sleeping boyfriend.

Harry rolled onto his back and looked at Draco. “Can I skive off, please? I’m exhausted.”

“No, Harry!” Draco cried, positively scandalized. “Professor Snape seems in a particularly foul mood towards you this week, for some reason. Don’t give him an excuse to fail you after we’ve been working so hard to keep your grades up.” He glanced at Harry, who had still made no move to get up. “Why are you so tired? We went to bed early last night.” Draco was towel drying his hair as he spoke. He turned and reached in Harry’s wardrobe and pulled out the school trousers he left there. Behind him, he heard a soft snore. He spun around.

“Harry James Potter, up you get! Really!” he shouted as he pulled the covers from Harry.

Harry groaned and glared at Draco before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He had circles under his eyes and was more pale than usual. Draco began to worry—Harry was always difficult to get up, but had been unusually so the last two mornings.

“Love, are you getting sick?” Draco asked as he placed a hand on Harry’s forehead, checking for fever.

“No, no, I’m just tired,” Harry whined as he stood, knocking Draco’s hand away. “Hand me my trousers,” he grumbled and held his hand out to Draco, who continued to look concerned. Harry was so tired because he had been up the last two nights in the library with Hermione, finishing up his research and trying to memorize all the proper steps of the proposal he planned on making, but he had no intention of telling that to Draco.

“Have you been having trouble sleeping?” Draco asked as he handed Harry his pants. Hermione had told him all about Harry’s past troubles with nightmares. He watched Harry closely as he began pulling on his pants. Draco made a disgusted face and asked “Aren’t you even going to shower?”

Harry shook his head no and slid into his pants. “I’m only going to Potions, then I’m coming back here for some sleep. I’ll shower after I get up.”

Draco pulled his perfectly pressed shirt on and began buttoning it, looking highly put out. “Does Dumbledore know you’re skiving all these classes?”

Draco tossed Harry his shirt, and he caught it midair, rumpling the press as he did. “I imagine he does, he knows everything else. It doesn’t matter anyway, Draco, I could pass the finals for these classes with my eyes closed. I mainly only go to hang out with you and Ron and Hermione.”

Draco hurumphed at him and pulled on his Slytherin robe, straightening and neatening it as he went. “Well, you couldn’t pass the Potions exams with your eyes open at this point, so I suggest you hurry your arse up. I’m about to leave you.”

Harry squinted at him crossly. He was not a happy person in the morning as it was and he certainly didn’t need Draco badgering him. Then he thought of something and groaned out loud. Draco handed him his robe and he put it on, albeit slightly lopsided. Holding his hand out for his glasses, which Draco was handing over, he asked “Today’s Wednesday, isn’t it?”

“Yes, why?” Draco said, moving to smooth Harry’s hair as he clasped his robe shut with sleepy hands. He pushed Draco off with a scowl.

“Leave it, it won’t lie down. You should know this by now,” he muttered crossly, thinking all the while Tonight’s the Weasleys. Can this morning get any worse?

Draco moved away and began gathering their things. “I’ve got your stuff together already, now will you come on?” he pleaded as he swung both boy’s book bags over his shoulders and reached out a hand to Harry, who took it. “We might just make it.”

Harry came along reluctantly. “I’ve got to brush my teeth,” he whined.

Draco pointed his wand at Harry’s mouth and said ‘Scourgify’, dragging the sleepy headed Gryffindor behind him. Harry’s face screwed up in distaste.

”Ugh, Draco, now my mouth tastes like soap!” he yelled, wiping his lips with the back of his free hand. Draco only rolled his eyes and pulled him along harder. Harry continued to wipe at his mouth and gave Draco a very hurt I-can’t-believe-you-did-that- look. He was very good at it.

“Well, perhaps you’ll make more of an effort to get up on time!” Draco snapped as they entered the corridor.

They just made it to Potions as Snape was closing the door.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Draco had been very busy this week as well. He and Dumbledore had gotten together and contacted the caterers and decorators for the Christmas get together. Dumbledore had agreed to place a Fidelis Charm on all the help so that the address to Headquarters would not get out, thereby allowing them to still have Christmas there. Draco had sent out owl after owl making arrangements. The decorator’s were scheduled to arrive Monday morning and begin, and the caterers would be there the day before Christmas Eve to prepare the meals for the following two days. And they still had to make time to do their shopping. Dumbledore would be escorting them everywhere all the while, as the danger of Lucius Malfoy was very great. He had been spotted twice in Hogsmeade in the last week, as Dumbledore had informed Draco at their last meeting. Draco had opted not to tell Harry this bit of news, thinking that the Gryffindor would become overprotective and worried. He seemed like he had enough on his mind lately.

Harry had been strangely distant and had been constantly tired since the week began. It worried Draco terribly, and he wondered if Harry was having nightmares again and cursed himself for sleeping so heavily next to him. He was trying not to let Harry’s behavior feed his insecurities, as Harry wasn’t any less lovable, he just seemed preoccupied. But sometimes, Draco got a little worried that perhaps Harry was growing tired of him. He had tried to keep a bit of distance himself, and found it impossible. If anything, he was clinging more tightly to Harry than ever. He was still mourning for his mother, of course, and the news about his father being back around again only made matters worse. Still, he was trying his best not to burden Harry with his problems.

Draco was sitting with Hermione in Arithmancy class at the moment, waiting impatiently for it to end. He looked over to Hermione, who, he was shocked to see, had her head down on the desk and was sleeping. What is wrong with everyone? He wondered. At last, the bell sounded.

He shook Hermione awake and they stood to go. “Tell Weasel I’d like to kick his ass at chess again sometime,” he said to her as they left the classroom. He half expected Harry to be waiting outside the door for him, and was a bit disappointed when he wasn’t there. Maybe he’s still sleeping, he thought, trying to console himself.

“Draco, stop. It’s been three days already. You just got lucky, you know. Ron almost always wins.”

Draco smirked at her. “I know that, Hermione. Why do you think I haven’t played him again, even though he keeps pestering me about it?” With a quick hug, the two parted and Draco headed to the Slytherin dorm to attend to his afternoon Prefect duties before joining up with Harry for his Quidditch practice. With any luck, he thought, I can get this over with quickly and get a quick snog in before practice starts. An evil smile flittered across his face as he quickened his pace, ruthlessly bumping smaller students out of his way.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry and Draco were leaving the locker room when Professor McGonagall approached them, just as Harry and Dumbledore had planned.

“Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you before you settle in for the night. Can you come now?” she asked.

Harry nodded and turned to Draco, who was clearly miffed. “I’m sorry, Draco. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

Draco shrugged. “Fine. I need to go talk to Severus, anyway,” he said, hoping to get a rise out of Harry. “See you later.”

Harry’s eyes had grown narrow at the mention of Snape, but he tried to hide it. Draco caught it and smirked, happy to see that Harry did care, after all. “I’m just going to invite him to Christmas, Harry. I think I’ll be quite safe,” he said, then kissed his messy haired boyfriend on the mouth. “You’re so jealous lately,” Draco teased.

Harry grumbled. “I’m not jealous of that git, I just don’t trust him. All right, then. See you later.”

The two waved at each other as they went their separate ways.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Harry said wistfully, watching as Draco walked away, immediately surrounded by three fourth year Slytherin girls who obviously had not gotten the message that Draco was not interested. Harry grinned as Draco flirted with them mercilessly, nonetheless.

Professor McGonagall couldn’t help but smile, too. “If you say so, Potter. Hurry up, now, the Weasleys are waiting for you.”

Harry’s smile faded and he followed the professor up to Dumbledore’s office.

Harry arrived and was pounced on by Mrs. Weasley at once.

“Harry, is everything okay, dear? We’ve been worried ever since we got Dumbledore’s message,” she said as she embraced him.

“Everything is fine, Mum Weasley. I just need to talk to the two of you.” He looked to Dumbledore, who nodded encouragingly.

Everyone sat down and Dumbledore began making tea. Harry fidgeted in his chair, trying to think of how to start. Sensing his discomfort, Dumbledore jumped right in.

“Molly, Arthur, have you ever shown Harry your bonding scars?” he asked casually. Harry rewarded him with a huge smile of relief.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her husband, obviously confused. “Um, no Albus, why?”

The Headmaster placed the tea set on the table in front of them and began pouring a cup for everyone. “Well, I thought he might be interested in seeing them, since he is planning on asking Mr. Malfoy to bond with him this holiday. He might have some questions for you as well, concerning the standing and proposal procedures, as well as the ceremony,” he said lightly.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were silent with shock. They looked at each other, then at Harry, then back at each other, mouths agape.

“Er, I got Professor Snape and Dumbledore to agree to stand for Draco, since his parents can’t, and now I need the two of you to do the same for me,” Harry continued cautiously, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to explode at any minute.

Again, the Weasleys looked at him, then back at each other. Harry glanced nervously at Dumbledore, who was drinking his tea in a completely unconcerned fashion. It was finally Mr. Weasley who spoke.

“Well, Harry. That’s. Um. Quite a serious step,” he managed to sputter.

Mrs. Weasley had swollen indignantly, but managed to keep her voice down. “Harry, love. I can’t agree to this. You’re not even of age yet, and, well, I’m not sure I completely trust that boy.”

Dumbledore intervened before Harry had a chance to protest. “Molly,” he began, “I don’t think Harry’s age is really an issue. You and Arthur were yourselves engaged by the time you were the same age as Harry is now. I believe you were only fifteen when you agreed to marry Arthur, were you not?”

Molly flushed.

“I think the real problem is that you don’t like Draco.” Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to protest, but the Headmaster held up his hand. “Now, Molly, I know what you, and everyone else for that matter, think of the Malfoy name at the time. But I have agreed to stand for Draco in this matter, and I assure you that I would have done no such thing if I believed for a moment that Mr. Malfoy’s intentions in this relationship were anything but true. Harry and Draco are very in love, and it is a love that does not come along very often. I dare say that they are the first couple I’ve seen since you and Arthur that were meant for a bonding. It may help you to know that I have also agreed to perform the ceremony for them when the time comes. And remember,” he said as he took another sip of tea, “Harry doesn’t really need your permission. I think he just wants to know that he has your support.”

Dumbledore cast a look Harry’s way. Did I cover everything? He asked Harry silently.

Harry beamed at him in reply, then turned to Mrs. Weasley. He took her hands in his own. “Please, Mum Weasley. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in all my life. Don’t take this from me. Draco’s not who you think he is. I swear on the memory of my parents, he loves me and would never hurt me. And I feel the same way about him.”

Mrs. Weasley looked down at their hands twined together. She squeezed. “All right Harry. If you’re sure, I guess there is nothing I can do to stop you.” Her voice was still very reluctant. “We’ll stand for you, won’t we Arthur?” she asked her husband.

Mr. Weasley nodded enthusiastically, tears in his eyes. “Of course. This will be exciting! I thought we’d never see one of these again!”

Harry sank back on the sofa in relief. After a moment, he leaned forward towards his guardians again. “So, can I see your scars? Did it hurt? I’ve got loads to ask you.”

Mrs. Weasley looked at the sparkle in his deep green eyes and turned her hands over, palms up. Harry took them eagerly and inspected the scars running down the middle of each palm. She had never seen him look so happy.

“No, love, it doesn’t hurt. Anything you want to know, ask away.” Next to her, Arthur placed his arm around her shoulders.

Harry looked up from her hands and smiled at her. He immediately began firing off questions.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Draco knocked quietly on Professor Snape’s door as not to disturb him too much if he was working. He smiled slightly as he heard the Potions Master utter “Dammit” then yell “Who is there”? It was the first time Draco had been to his office this term, and he had forgotten how selfish of his time Professor Snape was.

The door swung open and the harsh look on Snape’s face softened at once. “Draco, what a pleasant surprise,” he said as he moved to the side to let Draco in. “It’s been some time since you’ve been to see me.”

Draco sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace where he always sat, and Snape took his usual spot next to him. I can’t wait to mention to Harry that we were sitting in front of the fire together, Draco thought to himself. He still couldn’t quite believe that Snape had anything but paternal feelings for him.

“Is everything all right?” Snape asked. He was a master at controlling his emotions, but he couldn’t stop his heart from beating so quickly. Draco was absolutely beautiful.

“Yeah, things are fine. Except my homicidal father is somewhere close by, but I can’t do anything about that,” he said with a wry smile. “Look, I came to ask you to join us for Christmas this year. I know you usually stay here and work the entire time, but I’d like you to come. It’s going to be great, I’ve got caterer’s coming to do the cooking and everything. Besides, I need someone to defend me as I’m going to be surrounded by Weasleys who hate me. Ugh, and they’re all bloody Gryffindors to boot. I simply cannot be the only Slytherin there.” Draco looked pleadingly at the Professor.

Snape smiled at him. “The Weasleys only hate you because they don’t know you. They hate your father and are just projecting. I have been thinking though, about this whole Christmas at Grimmauld affair, and I wonder, is it really safe? Your father is about, and as you’ve pointed out, homicidal. Perhaps it would be safer if you stayed here over the holidays?” Snape was slightly ashamed of himself, but it didn’t stop him from trying to ruin Harry’s plans.

Draco relaxed back into the sofa and spread his arms along the back of it, and a huge smile played across his lips. Snape’s heart did a somersault. “No, I’m definitely going. It’s going to be fine-Lupin will be there, Dumbledore will be there, and Harry will be there. You’d be amazed at the things he can do,” Draco said proudly. Snape blushed as several unsavory images popped unbidden into his mind. “He did a wandless spell the other day.” Draco smiled and sighed. “He’s amazing. I think it’ll be quite safe, at any rate. You will come won’t you?”

Snape was scowling again. He just could not get used to the fact that Draco actually loved Harry Potter. “Oh, if you insist, Draco. What time should I arrive?”

Draco gave him the time and the two fell into a conversation about Draco’s mother and how she had always loved Christmas.

“Do you remember your first year home for the holidays from Hogwarts? Your mother was so proud of you,” Snape said fondly.

All Draco could remember was how mean he’d been to her that evening. He had pushed her away when she had tried to hug him when he and his father had returned from King’s Cross, and had berated anything she said to him all through dinner. Remembering this, his face flushed and his eyes filled with tears. He quickly stood up from the sofa.

“I need to go. I’ve got to finish up some homework,” he said quickly, avoiding Snape’s gaze. His voice, which was thick with tears, gave him away though.

Snape stood and put his hand on Draco’s back. “Draco, did I do something wrong? I didn’t mean to upset you.” He began to stroke Draco’s back. Draco looked up at him and was startled by the tender look on the Potion Master’s face. He was about to speak when Professor Snape reached up and pushed his hair behind his ear, then let his finger drag down his cheek.

Draco started. “Er, no, I’m still just a bit upset about my mum. I’ve really got to go. I need to find Harry,” Draco stressed. Severus still had his hand on his back and was a little too close.

At the mention of Harry’s name, the tender look disappeared and Professor Snape took a step away from Draco. “Yes, I’m sure he’s wondering where you’ve been as well. He’s very lucky to have you, Draco. Don’t ever let him forget that.” Snape turned and walked to his desk. Draco sighed with relief. “Thank you for visiting, Draco. I look forward to seeing you at Christmas.”

Draco stammered a quick good-bye and almost ran from the Professor’s office. Once outside, he had to bite back a nervous laugh. Maybe he wouldn’t tell Harry about any of this after all.

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Saturday morning came far too early for Harry, as usual. He woke after his alarm clock had gone of for the third time to hear Draco muttering angrily under his breath outside the bed. He poked his head out wearily to see what the problem was.

“Morning,” he mumbled.

Draco was bending over Harry’s trunk, several pieces of clothing clutched in one hand. “I thought I told you to pack last night?” he said.

Harry looked sheepish. “I did! Everything’s in there!”

Draco stood and rolled his eyes, thrusting the hand with the clothes in it at Harry. “Yes, it’s all in there, but none of it is folded, or bloody organized. Everything will get wrinkled this way,” he said angrily as he shifted through the trunk. “And how do you know you have everything? Look at this mess! Get over here and help me, you cretin, we’ve only got twenty minutes before we have to leave for the train!”

Harry smiled. He’d never seen Draco in such a snit. “You’re cute when you’re peeved,” he said.

It had been the wrong thing. Draco threw Harry’s clothes back in his trunk and slammed it shut. “Oh, bugger off. What do I care if all of your clothes look like they’ve been rolled up in a ball for a year. What’s it to me if you run out of underwear our third night away? I suppose I should just be happy if you manage to get your lazy arse up and take a bloody shower!” He stormed over to his own luggage, which he had packed the night before in his own dorm and dragged here. He sat down on his trunk and pouted prettily.

Harry pulled on some pajama pants (he generally slept naked now) and padded over to him. He reached out and pulled Draco into his stomach.

Draco was taken at once by that uniquely Harry scent, salty and warm all at the same time. The skin on his taut stomach was unbelievably soft, and the little hairs below his bellybutton were tickling Draco’s cheek. Fighting to stay angry with him, Draco pushed him away. “Get off me and go get ready. Please,” he implored, “I don’t know why on earth you have to torment me in the mornings.”

Harry laughed and bent to kiss him on his forehead. “Because you’re so bloody anal about everything.” Draco smacked him across his bare stomach. “Ow, fine, you don’t have to beat me. I’m going.”

Draco watched as he walked away, smirking slightly. Harry really did drive him nuts in the morning, even though this morning he knew something Harry didn’t. He, Ron and Hermione had all agreed to tell Harry they had to leave thirty minutes earlier than they really did in order to ensure they were on time. He chuckled softly and went back to Harry’s trunk. With a sigh and a quick sniff of one of his sweaters, Draco began to fold Harry’s clothes and place them neatly in his trunk.

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All the students and several of the teachers were clustered on the landing at Hogsmeade Station. His cold grey eyes scanned the crowd, looking for that familiar blonde hair. It wasn’t long before he found it.

Waiting to board the second car were Draco and Harry, their trunks held between them. They were laughing and looking at each other lovingly. He watched as the porter took their luggage and left the two boys free to hold hands and touch each other’s faces. He sneered as they kissed each other lightly on the lips.

Draco had gotten taller, an inch or maybe even two by the look of him, and had put on a considerable amount of weight. His shoulders were now broader than they had been, and he looked more a man than a boy. His hair was too long and he didn’t even have the decency to tie it back, but had it tucked behind his ears like some common working wizard who couldn’t afford decent ribbons. At least his clothes were nice and fit properly. He must have gone shopping when they opened his trust to him. Physically, Draco was rather pleasant to look at, he had to admit. But the look of happiness on his face whenever he and Harry Potter looked at one another was too much to bear.

He was a terrible disappointed, his son. Lucius would have no problem killing him.

But he couldn’t do it here. Standing just behind the two boys on the platform was none other than Dumbledore, eyes constantly scanning the crowd behind them.

Lucius approached one of the rail employees. “Excuse me, is this train going to Platform 9 ¾ at King’s Cross?” he asked the man.

“Yes, same place every year,” he looked up at Lucius Malfoy and his eyes grew wide. The face on the poster plastered all over town was staring back at him. Hogsmeade had been under a strict curfew due to sightings of this man. “Blimey, you’re—“

“Obliviate!” Lucius said quietly. The man’s eyes went misty at once. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said to the man with a smirk. He took a few steps away and Apparated to King’s Cross. Maybe, he thought, I’ll get a better chance there.

Chapter Text

As everyone took their seats on the train and began to settle in, Draco hissed through his teeth and grabbed the wrist that had the tracking device on it. The burning sensation that had been there was gone in an instant, but his reaction to it had been enough to get Dumbledore on his feet.

The Headmaster ran to the back entrance of the train car with his wand drawn and pointing towards the door. “Remus!” he yelled over his shoulder, “Get to the front entrance and be ready!”

Professor Lupin did as he was told immediately. The two men scanned the thinning crowd on the platform outside, but did not see who they were looking for. “I don’t see him, Albus!” Lupin cried back to the old wizard.

Harry, Ron and Hermione were all sitting around Draco utterly confused for a moment, and then Harry realized what was happening. In one fluid movement, he was up, wand drawn, and had pushed Draco down onto the floor so that he was no longer visible through the train windows. “Malfoy’s here?” he yelled to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded his head in affirmation.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, eyes positively on fire. His robe had already started to swirl around him and his hair was moving to and fro. “Watch him!” he ordered his two friends and stalked towards the front entrance to the car.

Professor Lupin turned to face Harry, bracing himself. “Harry,” he said in a panic, “you can’t go out there! We don’t know if he’s alone, or if—“

“Move, Remus,” Harry said evenly as he leveled his wand.

The car had gone silent and everything had gone still as the two wizards stared at one another.

Draco scrambled up from the floor and blanched at the scene before him. Dumbledore was standing right behind him.

“Harry, stop it! He’s gone! It doesn’t hurt anymore, I’m okay!” he yelled as he moved towards the clearly enraged Gryffindor. Dumbledore put out his hand and held him back. Harry did not move.

“Harry, lower your wand. Draco is right, Lucius is gone. It’s over now, everything is okay. You must calm down. There is no point in cursing Remus and leaving the train-you would only miss its’ departure.” Harry remained still, fixed on Professor Lupin. “Harry?” said the Headmaster calmly.

Professor Lupin was looking more nervous by the second. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Harry lowered his wand and sat down hard in an empty seat.

Draco rushed forward and sat down next to him. Harry was still radiating quite a bit of energy, and Draco was almost afraid to touch him. He finally took his hands. “Are you all right?”

Harry shook his head. He was breathing hard and his eyes were visibly changing colors from an almost radioactive green back to their normal emerald as he got his emotions under control. “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m good.” He turned to look at Professor Lupin, who was still holding his wand on Harry. “I’m sorry, Remus. I wasn’t going to hurt you, I promise.”

Professor Lupin closed his eyes in relief and lowered his wand. He smiled wanly. “I’m starting to think you have it in for me, Harry,” he joked. “You looked rather frightening for a second there.”

Harry only shook his head. “No, I don’t have it in for you. I just knew there was no way I’d get past Dumbledore. I thought I might have a chance with you.” He attempted a smile, but it died on his lips at the look on the pale Professor’s face.

Everyone sat in silence for a moment, then the train’s whistle blew and it began to move. Harry and Draco went back to their seats. Dumbledore and Lupin sat down in the seats in front of them. Draco was looking at his feet.

“I cannot believe how bold Lucius is being,” Lupin said, regaining his composure. “There are posters of him everywhere and that’s the third time in two weeks he’s shown his face.”

“What?” Harry cried. “You knew he was in Hogsmeade? Why didn’t someone tell me?”

Draco shifted uncomfortably. “Dumbledore told me, Harry,” he said quietly. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to worry.”

Harry looked at Draco in shock. “What? How could you not have told me, Draco? The man wants to kill you! If I’d known he was here, I could have been looking for him, I might have seen him. I could have at least been on guard! What were you thinking?” Anger was creeping back into Harry’s eyes.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Draco countered. “You’ve been acting weird all week, like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders or something. You haven’t been sleeping properly and I did not want to add anything else to trouble you. I can take care of myself, you know. I am that man’s son, and he taught me quite a lot. I may not be able to rebound spells all over the place, but I’m not completely bloody worthless!”

“You haven’t been sleeping, Harry?” Dumbledore asked.

Harry waved his hand impatiently. “No, I haven’t, but it has nothing to do with Voldemort. It’s that other thing I’ve been working on.”

“Ah,” said the Headmaster with a smile.

“What other thing?” Draco asked, “Who’s not telling who what now?!”

Harry couldn’t help but smile, but only slightly. “You’ll find out soon enough. But in the meantime, you have to tell me stuff like this, Draco! Any of us could have been hurt, you could have been hurt, or worse, and then what would I have done?” Harry looked desperate at the thought. “You can’t just walk around like you’re not in danger.”

Draco smirked at him. “Oh, that is rich coming from you. Did you see how ready you were to just run out there and face who knows what? Voldemort might have been out there! You are still bloody mortal, you know!” Draco was yelling now. “How do you think I would feel if you’d rushed out there and gotten attacked by fifty Death Eaters or, even better, killed by Voldemort himself?”

“How do you think I would feel if you were killed by your father, while standing right next to me, no less, and I had no clue he was even around?!” Harry yelled back.

Dumbledore put his hands up in a conciliatory motion. “Gentlemen, gentlemen, please. I think we all understand that the two of you are concerned with protecting one another, however, I must agree with Harry on this point, though you’ve made some rather good ones as well, Draco. Harry, you are far too powerful now to lose control of your emotions like that. You must keep a cool head in these situations. You are no good to us if you are not in control of your powers, or worse, dead or injured.” Harry grumbled slightly as Dumbledore turned to address Draco. “And we all need to keep each other current on any situation that might jeopardize our safety. We are, as the saying goes, stronger together than divided.”

Draco sulked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Then he should have to tell me whatever it is that he’s keeping from me. It’s keeping him up nights. That could jeopardize his safety.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Not this time, Draco, and as Harry said, you’ll find out soon enough.” The witch with the food cart entered their car and Dumbledore’s face broke into a boyish grin when he saw her. “Ah yes, let’s get some sweets, shall we?”

Harry tried to unwrap Draco’s arms and take his hand. After a brief fight where Draco yanked his arm away repeatedly, only to have it yanked back by Harry, he finally relented and the two joined hands, still silently fuming at one another.

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Lucius waited patiently across the street from King’s Cross station for his son to arrive. He watched as crowd after crowd of people left the station, trying to decide the best way to get to Draco. If he had to take out a few Muggles to get to the boy, it mattered not to Lucius. In fact, he’d probably enjoy it more. Underneath the sleeve of his uncomfortable Muggle coat, he toyed impatiently with his wand.

The werewolf was the first to exit. He, too, had one hand up a sleeve and seemed to be hiding something. Lucius smirked; the freak had no subtlety at all. He knew that he was holding his wand at the ready. Remus Lupin looked intently at the crowd around him and then waved his hand.

The rest of them appeared from the station, still standing out despite the fact that they had all changed into Muggle clothing. Well, not so much the teens, Lucius thought, but Dumbledore would stick out anywhere.

“Bloody hell,” Lucius muttered. They were all surrounding Draco as if he were the Minister of Magic, with Potter in the lead. He could only catch glimpses of his son’s pale blonde head behind all those idiots, much less hit him with a spell.

The moment they exited the station, Draco seemed to stir in the middle of the circle of people, as they all turned and looked towards him. Potter spun back around towards the crowd, looking around wildly, and actually drew his wand, the moron. Lucius smirked again. He watched as the bushy haired Mudblood hurriedly hailed two cars for them. She, the Pureblood Traitor and the Werewolf crammed into the first car. “Well, at least all the riff raff is in one place,” Lucius said to no one in particular.

Draco was clearly cradling his left arm as he waited to get into the second car behind Dumbledore. Much to Lucius’ dismay, he looked to be crying, and Dumbledore appeared to be muttering spells under his breath in the direction of his injured arm.

Suddenly, Lucius felt a chill run down his spine and his face involuntarily turned to Potter, who was still standing with his wand drawn, blocking Draco from Lucius’ aim. His eyes were scanning the crowd around them, and he seemed to be giving off a terrible energy. Lucius was suddenly filled with the certainty that they knew he was there and that if he continued to stand where he was, Harry would see him, and that something terrible would happen. He stepped back further into the shadows.

As soon as Draco had gotten into the car, Potter had hurriedly followed. Lucius could see him giving heated directions to the driver, the whole while cradling Draco to him. He appeared to put some sort of spell on the driver, as a bright flash had gone off inside the car, then he turned and began to stroke Draco’s hair. Despite Lucius’ disgust at the very public scene, he concentrated hard on the driver’s face so that he would recognize it later. He would corner the Muggle and extract all the information he needed from him. He grinned wickedly, thinking he would have a bit of fun with the man, make a little sport. Once he had found out where he had taken Draco, he would kill him. Then, he would find Draco and kill him, too. Perhaps he would be able to capture Potter as well, since the fool was sure to try and intervene. His grin widened. The Dark Lord would be very happy indeed.

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Inside the car, Dumbledore was muttering healing spells at Draco’s arm as quickly as he could. The bracelet would not let up, however, and every time the flesh underneath it tried to heal, it would only burn again despite Dumbledore’s ministrations. Draco was whimpering in pain and the smell of burning flesh was filling the car. Harry told the driver to take them to the corner of Grimmauld and Saddauld Places and had to hit the man with an Imperious Curse when he had refused to take the strange trio. He then turned to hold Draco and stroked his hair, muttering comforting words into the crying boys ear. He had never wanted to kill someone as badly as he wanted to kill Lucius Malfoy at that moment.

It was at least a mile before the tracking device stopped burning Draco’s flesh and Dumbledore was able to heal it permanently. It had burned fairly badly in that short amount of time, but Dumbledore’s spells had done the trick, though Draco would still have phantom pain for the rest of the day. He leaned his head on Harry’s shoulder. “That bloody hurt,” he whispered, still out of breath from the ordeal. Harry, who had tears in his own eyes, kissed him tenderly.

“I’m so sorry. We should have just stayed at Hogwarts,” he said.

“Oh, Harry, don’t. Don’t blame yourself for everything that goes wrong in the world. We’re just trying to celebrate Christmas with our family and friends. It’s not your fault that my father is a murderous prat.” Draco was trying to make light of the situation, but he could not hide the strain in his voice.

Harry tried to smile, and looked nervously at Dumbledore. “Are we going to be able to keep him away from Draco?” he asked the Headmaster.

“Grimmauld is completely safe, Harry. I’ve done all the proper charms. But I will have to escort Draco on any trips he takes outside the house. And I can’t do anything about that device burning him if Lucius should appear close by.”

Harry’s eyes flashed once again. “Can’t they put one on him that doesn’t do this to him?” Harry yelled, becoming incensed again. “He’s obviously not planning on going anywhere with his father!”

Beside him, Draco groaned. “Harry, please, calm down. I’m all right!”

Dumbledore looked defeated. “I will talk to them, Harry. That’s all I can promise.”

Harry slammed his back against the seat behind him and stared out the window. He was a ball of anger and frustration, and there was not one thing he could do to change it.

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They reached the corner just behind the other three and stood on the sidewalk as Dumbledore and Lupin performed very powerful and complex memory charms on the drivers of the two cars. It was a solemn bunch that made their way up the street to Grimmauld Place, but at least the tracking device was no longer going off.

They were the first to arrive. As it was now Harry’s home, Dumbledore deferred to him about the sleeping arrangements. Harry put he and Lupin in two of the three ground level quarters, saving the last for the Weasleys. He, Ron, Hermione and Draco took their baggage to the upstairs bedrooms.

“Okay, this is the plan I came up with to make sure that everyone is happy for the next three weeks,” Harry began. “Ron and I will take the uppermost bedroom, and Draco and Hermione will have the one here on the second landing. Bill and Ginny can have one of the other ones, Fred and George another, and Charlie and what’s his name can have the one next to us.”

Both Draco and Ron began to make loud protests. Harry held up his hands. “Shut it, both of you. I have no intention of sleeping without Draco for three weeks, and Ron, I know you don’t want to sleep without Hermione.” He reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. Everyone smiled, catching on immediately. “At night, we all report to our rooms as I said. Then, when everyone’s had a chance to lights out, Hermione will take the Cloak and come upstairs. She will then sleep there with you, Ron. I will Apparate down here with Draco. The only catch is that we’ll have to be back in our right places before Mum Weasley can catch us in the morning.”

Draco groaned. “Great, I get to try and get you up early every morning.” Harry still had his arm wrapped protectively around the blonde.

Harry grinned at him. “I could always sleep upstairs if you’d rather.”

Draco took him in a hug, careful not to hit his still tender wrist. “I don’t think so, Potter,” he said softly.

Ron beamed at his friend. “I swear Harry, there is no one better at sneaking around than you. I don’t know why I worry sometimes.”

Harry smiled at his friends. “Don’t flatter me Ron. Hey, do you guys mind if I talk to Draco alone for a minute?”

Ron and Hermione said no and went back downstairs.

“Harry, I hope you’re not going to start on me about not telling you about my father again. I’ve had enough for one day,” Draco said as he buried his face in Harry’s neck.

Harry turned and kissed him softly on the lips. “No, Draco, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Let me see your wrist.”

Draco held it out to him, and Harry inspected it carefully. The only indication that anything had been wrong was a slightly pink ring that ran underneath the bracelet. Harry wanted to rip that atrocious piece of metal from Draco’s wrist and stomp on it. Knowing this was an impossibility, he pushed it up and kissed the tender skin underneath instead.

He looked up into Draco’s eyes. “I’m going to kill him, Draco. He deserves it, if anyone does,” Harry said quietly.

Draco’s eyes filled with tears and he looked down at his wrist, still held in Harry’s hands. “Harry, you can’t. They’ll put you in Azkaban for the rest of your life, and I don’t think I want to live without you. Just capture him, love, and let the Ministry take care of it.” Draco sighed heavily at the angry look in Harry’s eyes. “He’s still my father, Harry. And he’s not worth you becoming a murderer. Promise you won’t do it?” Harry nodded reluctantly and Draco leaned against him in relief. “I need a nap. You want to come? I don’t think anyone would mind if we left the door opened.”

Harry kissed him again, slowly and deeply. As usual, there was a surge of emotions and need between the two. Harry reluctantly pulled away. “I’d better go downstairs and help everyone settle in. You know I can’t be alone with you without taking advantage of the situation,” he said smiling. “I’ll come and get you for dinner if you’re not up by then.”

Draco nodded and went into the room he’d be sharing with Hermione. He gave Harry one last sad look and shut the door.

Chapter Text

Harry went back downstairs despite the fact that he really wanted nothing more than to join Draco for a nap. It had been a harrowing morning. But he knew that Dumbledore would want to talk to him.

He found the Headmaster in the drawing room starting a fire in the grate. When he entered, Dumbledore turned and nodded his head in welcome. Harry sat down on the sofa and waited for him to have a seat as well. When he did, he fixed Harry with a piercing gaze.

“So, is Draco doing all right now?” he asked kindly.

Harry lay back on the sofa and closed his eyes. “Yeah, he’s sleeping. Bit worn out. Me too, honestly.”

“Did you even realize that you used one of the Unforgivable Curses on that man this morning?”

Harry’s eyes now flew open. “I had to get Draco out of there! I didn’t know what else to do!”

Dumbledore only continued to smile at him. “I think that as you and I are the only ones aware of it, Harry, there is no need to worry. If you hadn’t done it, I probably would have. I just wanted to see where your head was at, that’s all. You’re very powerful now, but if you don’t learn to control your emotions, it will do you no good. Our powers only work as well as we wield them.”

Harry lay back down. “I know, and I’m trying, I am. It just scares the hell out me that Lucius is trying to kill him. I’ve already lost so many people I love….I can’t stand the thought of him being hurt.” Harry got quiet for a moment, then continued in a sleepy slightly slurred voice. “I really wanted to kill his father today. I’ve only ever been that angry the night Sirius died, when I wanted to kill Bellatrix.”

Dumbledore got up and drew a blanket in the air and spread it over Harry, looking at him with pity and affection. No one his age should have had to go through what he had. Dumbledore tucked the blanket around him tighter. “I would take you upstairs with Draco, but Mrs. Weasley will be here soon, and no doubt she would have a conniption to find the two of you in bed together. Try not to worry about Draco, Harry. We will all do everything we can to take care of him.”

Harry opened his eyes slightly and smiled up at the Headmaster. Dumbledore ruffed his hair, drew the curtains with the wave of his wand, and left Harry to sleep.

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When the Weasleys arrived, an impromptu meeting of the Order was held in the kitchen, and they were quickly brought up to date on the events of the morning. Midway through, Fred, George, Draco and Harry had crashed the meeting, so the subject was changed to something more cheerful, but only briefly. It seemed that Mrs. Weasley had changed her opinion of Draco after hearing the news about his father’s appearance, and was determined to do something to keep him safe. As Draco, Fred and George separated and began discussing new possibilities for the future of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, Mrs. Weasley cornered Harry, in the hopes of discussing Draco. As it was the foremost thing on Harry’s mind as well, it wasn’t hard to get him going.

“How are you, dear? This morning must have been awful,” she said as she made him a cup of hot cocoa.

Harry sighed in agreement. “I don’t think I’m going to get back to normal until this whole Malfoy thing is taken care of. I can hardly stand to let him out of my sight,” he looked over at Draco as he said this “I’m so worried.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think I could deal with it if something happened to him. Dumbledore says he’s safe here, and I swear Mum Weasley, I want to lock him in and not let him out until Lucius is gone. I hate that I feel that way—I get so mad at him when he treats me like he owns me, but I think I finally know how he feels. I’m terrified of losing him.”

Mrs. Weasley stroked his hair and sat his hot chocolate on the table in front of him. “I think you’re both terrified of losing each other, but who can blame either of you? You can’t treat people as possessions though, Harry, you’re right. Still, I don’t think keeping him here for the remainder of the holidays is such a bad idea.”

Harry wiped his milk moustache away with his sleeve. “I agree, but you’ve no idea what a brat he is about things like this. He won’t see it as us trying to keep him safe, he’ll take it as a personal affront to his ability to defend himself. But he’s no match for Lucius; he’s very powerful, I felt his presence today at the train station for a minute. All it would take is a moment long enough for him to aim and say the spell, and Draco would be dead before any of us could do a thing about it.” He sighed and looked over at Draco again, who was huddled up with the twins. Judging from their snickers, whatever they were doing, it was probably nothing good. Harry smiled. “I’ll tell him though. Maybe he’ll do it for my peace of mind, if nothing else.”

“I’m sure he will, Harry, if you put it to him like that.” She glanced at the three young men as well. “That doesn’t look good does it?” she asked Harry. He only smirked and nodded in agreement. “Harry, have you got everything ready for you proposal?” she asked him.

Harry took a nervous sip of cocoa. “Everything but the rings. I’m going to get them when we go Christmas shopping. Hermione said she had seen a nice store in Diagon Alley that might have something. I’m so nervous about it! I can’t sleep, I can barely eat, and then this whole bloody thing with his father doesn’t help. What if he says no, and I’m left looking like a complete prat? Not to mention crushed.” Harry looked miserable at the thought.

At that moment, Draco looked over his shoulder at Harry and smiled that gorgeous smile of his. Harry’s heart leapt and he smiled back.

Mrs. Weasley watched the exchange tenderly. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, love. Maybe you should go and get him before they think up something really horrible. Fred and George are bad enough on their own, but from what Ron’s told me about Draco, he could add a rather dangerous element to the whole affair.” Her voice was not without affection.

Harry grinned at her. “Am I to understand that you now approve of him?”

“Oh, love, I was just worried about you. If he makes you happy, that’s all I can ask of him. Besides, he has been through quite a lot hasn’t he?” She looked at Draco, eyes full of worry and tenderness.

Harry stood and kissed her cheek. “I can’t believe you only had seven kids. It’s like you need to be mum,” he teased. “Oy, Draco,” he yelled, “would the three of you stop planning world destruction for a moment? I need to speak with you.”

The twins sent Harry identical scathing glares, but Draco said his good-byes and joined Harry at the table.

Mrs. Weasley excused herself, casting a sad look at Draco. Draco watched her go suspiciously.

“You didn’t call me over here to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, I take it,” he asked Harry.

Harry took his hand. “Will you do something for me if it allows me to not spend every second of my day out of my mind with worry?”

Draco still looked highly suspicious. “It depends. I know when you set up a question like that, it’s going to entail me doing something I don’t like.”

“I don’t want you to leave here until we have your father.” Draco started to protest, but Harry placed his fingers over his lips. “Let me finish. It would be all too easy for him to kill you, even if all of us followed you everywhere you went. And there’s nothing any of us can do about that fucking tracking thing on your arm. I can’t go through that again, Draco, honestly. I’d think you’d want to avoid it as well.”

Draco moved Harry’s hand. “Can I talk now?” he said hotly. Harry nodded. “Thank you. First, I have to get gifts for everyone. Second, it’s not fair that I get stuck here because my father’s an arse. Third, --“

Harry stopped him. “Draco, listen to what you’re saying,” he said gently as not to anger Draco. “We’re not talking about him trying to take you out for tea and convert you back to his side—he’s going to kill you. He has orders, from Voldemort, in case you’ve forgotten. I personally don’t see him resting until he’s carried them out.” Draco looked like he was about to protest yet again, but Harry stopped him with a quick kiss. “Please, just sleep on it and we’ll talk about it again tomorrow. I just know that I would be lost without you, Draco. I can’t even begin to think about it. I mean, what would you want me to do if I were in your situation?”

Draco smiled. “But you are in my situation. You have been your whole life.” Harry started to speak, and this time Draco put his fingers to Harry’s lips. “I know, love, you’re different. It’s not the same, you’re the Boy Who Lived, blah, blah, but I feel the same about it. Everything you’re saying to me, I’ve felt a hundred times before, but for you.” He looked at Harry’s drawn face and sighed. “Fine, you win. I’ll stay here if it makes you feel better. I know how bad it sucks to worry about someone all the time.”

Harry hugged him gratefully and leaned in to kiss him and stopped. It would not do to shove his tongue down Draco’s throat here in front of everyone. He pulled him to him again. “Thank you. So much.” He lowered his voice and put his mouth so close to Draco’s ear that Draco could feel his lips moving against it as he spoke. “I wish we were alone. I want to kiss you so badly,” he said.

Draco shivered involuntarily. He pulled away so that their foreheads were pressed together. When their eyes met, both sets were shining hungrily.

“What time is bed time around here anyway?” Draco breathed.

Harry’s eyes dropped a bit and their mouths moved dangerously close together. “Not nearly soon enough,” he breathed back.

Mrs. Weasley, who had been watching the whole exchange between the two intently while making Draco a cup of cocoa, did not like the turn that it had just taken. She snatched up the mug of cocoa and in two quick strides plopped it down in front of Draco.

“Cocoa, love?” she asked in a false bright tone.

Harry flushed and pulled away from Draco. Draco, ever the master of composure, only smiled angelically at her.

“Why thank you, Mrs. Weasley. You must have read my mind.” He turned and looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry met his furtive gaze. “Something hot is just what I need.”

Harry’s face went a deeper shade of crimson.

I’m going to have to keep my eyes on these two, Mrs. Weasley thought as she watched the two of them turn their backs to her and huddle back together in conversation.

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Monday morning at Grimmauld place was a busy affair. As the decorators that Draco had hired were arriving with the tree, Harry and the others were making their way out the door to Diagon Alley to do their Christmas shopping. Draco was making last minute arrangements with Hermione to pick up Harry’s gift, then he delayed Harry for quite some time by running over an extremely long list of the other gifts he needed. Harry grumbled slightly, thinking that Draco had made the list especially long just to annoy him in payback for making him promise not to leave the house. Draco continued delaying his departure by adding more and more bits of advice as Harry tried to get out the door.

“Draco, the sooner I go, the sooner I get back. I have your list, now stop badgering me,” Harry said shortly. He was very anxious today, almost skittish, and he was taking it out a bit on the Slytherin. Just worried about finding rings, he thought to himself.

Draco looked a bit hurt. “I’m sorry, I just wish I could go. Oh well, I’ll just hang out with Sidney all day. See you.” He kissed Harry on the cheek.

Harry’s eyes narrowed. In his anxiousness, he was feeling more possessive and protective of Draco than usual. “Who’s Sidney?” he asked.

Draco indicated a tall, dark haired witch in the drawing room. She was one of the decorators, and was busy ordering the other witches around. “She’s the decorator. Old friend of the family.”

Harry put the witch in her late twenties and noted, somewhat unhappily, that she was very attractive. He found himself glaring at the woman’s back. Outside, Hermione called for him to hurry up.

“Coming!” he yelled back as he tore his eyes away from Sidney. What is wrong with me? He thought again. “Yeah, well, I’ll be home as soon as possible. Love you,” he said and kissed Draco bye.

Harry ran down the stairs and joined the rest of the group. He threw a look back to the door of Grimmauld Place, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Draco, but the façade had already disappeared. For some reason he could not identify, he really did not want to leave.

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Lucius Malfoy had finally found the place the cab driver had told him about this morning, and was now waiting very patiently across the street. He had had a splendid time getting the information out the Muggle taxi driver, though it was more of a bother than he had anticipated due to the complex Memory Charm that Dumbledore had placed on him. Lucius had not minded, it had only made it more fun for him to break the man’s mind like a piece of old china. The place he was guarding had very complex spells on it as well, you could only see it when someone was coming or going. But Lucius knew he had the right place as he had seen the werewolf walking about this morning, savoring a bit of fresh air. He heard the loud pop that indicated the house was becoming visible again, and turned his attention back to the door of Grimmauld, which was now open and full of activity.

All the obnoxious Weasleys, except the dumpy mother, the werewolf, the Mudblood, and Dumbledore were coming down the stairs, talking amongst themselves. Lucius thought for a moment that perhaps he should just rush them and push his way into the house and find Draco, but thought better of it. Why risk it when this was obviously a group outing, meaning that Harry and Draco should be along at any moment. He recognized the decorators from the Manor when they entered. Well, he thought, at least it won’t be too shabby in there. He was growing impatient when the Mudblood finally called out.

“Oy, Harry, hurry up!” she cried.

Potter rushed out the door, wrapping his black pea coat tightly around him, Gryffindor scarf blowing in the wind. He waved quickly over his shoulder to someone in the house and joined the others. The door closed, and they began to walk towards central London.

“Oh, so Draco’s not coming out to play?” Lucius muttered, then sneered. He settled back behind the dumpster across the street, kicking a bit of trash into the gutter. “”You can’t stay in there forever, boy,” he spat. He would wait. He was a patient man, after all.

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They had only walked a few blocks when Harry stopped. Something was definitely wrong.

“I’m going back,” he said to Professor Lupin, who was walking at his side.

“Is there something wrong?” Lupin asked.

Harry looked around him, not quite sure what, exactly, he was looking for. “Yeah. I don’t know what though.” In front of them, the group had come to a halt and was looking back at them curiously. “You go on, I’m going home,” he called.

Arthur Weasley jogged to where Harry was. “Are you okay, Harry?”

Harry was growing fidgety. “Yes, I just feel weird. I want to go home,” he said again.

Arthur looked at Remus. “We’ll all go.”

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m just in a weird mood today and I don’t want to do this. I’m sure everything is fine, it’s probably just my nerves. Go ahead and go. I’ll see you tonight,” he said as he turned back towards Grimmauld Place.

Remus and Arthur exchanged another look, and Remus turned to follow Harry. “I’m coming with you, Harry. I don’t really feel like going either.” Harry smiled at him knowingly.

The two returned to Grimmauld Place, Harry jumping and nearly pulling his wand at every small noise.
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As the entered Grimmauld, Harry could hear Draco’s laughter ringing through the foyer. He felt slightly relieved for the first time all morning.

He and Remus parted ways, and Harry went into the drawing room. What he saw as he entered made him furious.

Sidney and Draco were sitting on the sofa together. She was playfully grabbing at him and trying to tickle him, while he fended her off with a pillow.

“I’m back,” Harry said through gritted teeth. Neither of the two on the couch seemed to notice that detail.

Draco stood and flung himself on Harry. “Love! What are you doing here?” He was obviously happy he was home, but in his anger, Harry didn’t notice this. The question from his boyfriend’s lips had seemed more of an accusation.

“What are you doing would be a better question,” Harry spat. Draco looked confused and drew away from him.

At that moment, Sidney approached the two of them, hand outstretched. “Well, I was wondering if I was going to get to meet you today. You’re all Draco has talked about. I’m Sidney,” she smiled at him. Harry didn’t take her hand, but she went on, unphased by his rudeness. “Oh, Draco, he does seem fierce. I can see where he could be potentially very good in bed,” she cooed.

Draco looked incredibly nervous all of a sudden. “Shut up, Sid,” he said in warning. Sidney, instead, smirked at him and turned back to Harry.

“If you’d ever like some pointers on what really makes Draco scream, don’t’ hesitate to ask,” she to Harry with a wink.

Harry’s eyes flashed at Draco. Without a word, he stormed from the room. Behind him, Sidney called “Or if you ever want a third party…”

He was running up the stairs when he heard Draco calling his name from below, but he did not stop until he had reached the attic room where Sirius had once kept Buckbeak. He was blindingly angry. Behind him, he heard Draco’s voice say “Alohomora” and the door swung open.

“Harry, let me explain, please,” he said as he entered the room.

“What’s to explain, Draco? Surely I wasn’t gone long enough for anything to happen today. Bloody hell, she’s got to be at least fifteen years older than you!” he shouted.

“Will you stop?!” Draco cried. He had never seen Harry like this before, and it unnerved him greatly. “I told you before that I had slept with two other people, Harry, and it just so happens that she is one of them.”

“I bloody gathered!” Harry shrieked at Draco. He felt very strange, more than angry. He suddenly wanted to get out of the house very badly. He tried to get past Draco, but he held him firmly.

“What is the matter with you?” Draco cried. “She used to decorate the Manor for parties and holidays, or just when my mum wanted a bit of a change. She was there for my thirteenth birthday, and she walked in on me while I was taking a shower. Things just sort of, got out of hand. I stopped sleeping with her last year, before anything even happened between us! It’s nothing, Harry, we’re just friends.”

Harry pushed Draco away so hard, he almost fell down. “Friends? Hermione is my friend, but she has no idea how to ‘really make me scream’!” Harry taunted. “Ron’s my friend, but he couldn’t give you pointers on how to make me sexually happy! You slept with her for two fucking years, Draco! She probably does know more about you than I do!” He tried to step past him again, and again Draco held him. Harry felt like he was suffocating.

“I slept with her on and off for two years! She doesn’t know anything important about me, Harry! I was just a boy who thought it was cool to get off with an older woman, that’s all!”

“So why did you hire her to come here? Another ploy of yours to make me jealous? Well, it worked! Now get out of my way!” He pushed Draco one last time, and was finally past him. He flew down the stairs.

Halfway down, it became apparent to him that something more than him being angry about Sidney was wrong. And whatever it was, it was outside. Jumping over the last four stairs, he stalked down corridor and flung the front door to Grimmauld Place wide.

He was on the second outside landing, wand drawn and scanning the area. Something was definitely wrong, he felt it. Still, he saw nothing out of place.

“Harry, what are you—“ It was Draco behind him. Harry turned to tell him to go back inside, but it was too late. As soon as Draco had crossed the threshold, his words were cut off and he fell, screaming and writhing on the ground. He was holding his left arm out in front of him, beating on his wrist madly.

Harry turned to run back up the stairs to Draco, but stopped when he heard the loud crack of someone Apparating behind him. He spun around. Lucius Malfoy was standing at the bottom of the stairs, wand out and pointed at Draco.

“Do be still, boy, I’d hate to miss you,” he said serenely, leveling his wand at the writhing boy that had once been his son. The look on his face was almost peaceful.

Without thinking, Harry moved in between the tip of the wand and Draco just as Lucius screamed “AVADA KEDAVRA”, his voice filled with power.

The spell hit Harry in the middle of his chest. In an instant, the entire world went green.

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For Harry, time and place did not exist. He was only aware of the icy cold of the spell spider webbing through his chest. I’m going to die, just like my parents did, then he’s going to kill Draco, he thought idly. Suddenly, he became aware of something else moving up through his body, a warm, almost liquid feeling. It was surrounding and isolating the cold that was the Killing Curse. Harry could actually see the fiery green light in his chest being compressed into a small orb, and pushed upwards towards his head. He watched as the green orb hovered behind his eyes, pulsing and spinning, then exploded out of him with a push like a bomb exploding.

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Remus Lupin had rushed up from the kitchen at the sound of Draco’s screams. He was crossing the threshold himself when Lucius Malfoy hit Harry with the Killing Curse.

“NO!” he cried as the curse hit Harry, causing him to sway slightly on his feet. He expected Harry to fall, to crumple to the ground dead. But that did not happen.

He watched in horrified fascination as a white light surrounded Harry, so bright that and so intense that for a brief moment, he could only see the silhouette of Harry’s body in its center. Then, a thick beam of green light erupted from Harry, blowing his hair and robes back. On his face, the lenses of his glasses shattered and the frames fell away in pieces.

The green light not so much as hit Lucius Malfoy as it engulfed him. In a second the whole thing was over, and the world had returned to normal. Lucius Malfoy was still falling slowly to the ground, dead before he even hit the pavement.

Harry felt slightly nauseated and his head hurt, but otherwise he was perfectly fine. Without taking the time to even register the fact that he couldn’t see, he spun on his heel.

“Draco!” he cried as he sprinted up the steps. He fell to his knees beside Draco’s now still body. There was a red stain creeping through the back of his white hair. Harry rolled him over on his back and almost fainted.

His face was scratched up and his clothes were torn from the violence of his writhing on the concrete. There was a large bruise forming on his cheek. But what had made Harry so ill was the horrible smell emanating from his arm, and the condition of the arm itself. Draco’s hand was black and swollen, and the fabric of his robe was seared. He could see small flecks of white around Draco’s wrist, his bone. The tracking device had melted down into his flesh.

He put his head on Draco’s chest, trying to hear a heartbeat, but noises were erupting all around him, preventing him from hearing much of anything. He was vaguely aware of Mrs. Weasley on the stairs above him, sending a shower of red sparks in the air from her wand. He was trying to gather Draco in his arms when two strong arms hooked underneath his and pulled him away.

“Let me go!” Harry shouted at his unknown assailant. He began fighting with all his strength, but the arms held firm.

“Harry, you have to get out of the way and let them help him,” said a voice in his ear. It was Remus Lupin.

Harry had a horrible flashback to the night Sirius died. Remus had been holding him very much like this to prevent him from running headlong into the arch. In his mind, Harry heard him say again, “He’s gone, Harry.”

“NO!” Harry cried and tried to break away from Lupin again. In front of him, he could see medi-wizards wearing St. Mungo’s uniforms Apparating all around Draco. Soon they were surrounding his body, and Harry could no longer see him. In the distance, he heard the wail of an approaching siren. He went limp in Lupin’s arms and slid to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

Seconds later, Dumbledore Apparated and approached the medi-wizards. Lupin was behind Harry, holding him and saying “He’s okay, Harry, he’s okay,” over and over again in the boy’s ear, hoping that he was not lying to him. He watched fearfully as Dumbledore left the scene and approached them.

Dumbledore kneeled down beside Harry. “Harry, I’ve just come from the medi-wizards. Draco is burned very badly, and the metal from the tracking device seems to be poisoning him. They are going to Apparate him to St. Mungo’s immediately to perform healing surgery. The lead medi-wizard assures me he is going to be fine in a day or so.”

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, then past his shoulder to where the medi-wizards were preparing to Apparate Draco. He watched as they all disappeared into thin air.

“Now, Harry, if you’ll please calm down a bit and tell me what happened, we will Apparate to St. Mungo’s ourselves—Harry?” Dumbledore said.

Lupin fell forward and caught himself by slamming his palms on the pavement. Harry had already Apparated out of his arms.

Harry appeared in the emergency room of St. Mungo’s seconds later, but there was no sign of Draco. He ran to the admissions desk.

“You have to help me,” he pleaded with the nurse there. “They’ve just brought someone in, Draco Malfoy, please, where is he?” the words poured out of him.

The nurse checked her register. “Yes, he’s just arrived. He’s in the burn unit, intensive care,” Harry turned and ran for the elevators, “but you can’t go up there! He’s in healing surgery!!” she cried after him. Harry pounded the buttons of the elevator relentlessly.

There were two loud cracks as Lupin and Dumbledore appeared in the emergency room. Dumbledore immediately located Harry, drew his wand and cried “Tranquillizer”, hitting Harry with the most powerful Docility Charm he could muster.

Harry’s arms fell to his sides, and he looked blandly at the elevator doors. He turned to look at Dumbledore, and though he made no move towards the Headmaster, his eyes were blazing dangerously from the dull expression on his face. Dumbledore moved quickly, knowing that Harry would throw the curse off at any moment.

“Harry, you cannot go up there. You’d only be in the way and that won’t help Draco. Please, sit down and calm down so I can leave you and find out how he is doing.”

Harry was back to normal in a matter of seconds. He calmed visibly at the Headmaster’s words, but Lupin was on the ready to grab him if he made any sudden moves. But Harry only sat down wearily. He looked up at Dumbledore, fresh tears welling in his eyes. “Please tell me he’s going to be okay. Please tell me I didn’t get him killed.”

Dumbledore’s heart broke at the look in Harry’s eyes. He placed an old but firm hand on the boy’s cheek. “I promise you, Harry, Draco is going to be fine.” Harry collapsed back into the chair and began crying all over again. Remus sat next to him and held him to his chest.

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The hours passed slowly for everyone, but nowhere near as slowly as they did for Harry. All of the Weasleys, Hermione, and Severus Snape had now joined in the waiting room vigil, but Harry still felt completely alone. He could not meet Snape’s accusing eyes. He had sworn that he would never let anything hurt Draco, and now the Sytherin was in the hospital, gravely injured. And it never would have happened if Harry hadn’t been acting such an ass about Sidney. He sighed into Mrs. Weasley’s chest, as she had taken over holding Harry when she arrived. He felt like he was dying a slow death with every minute that passed.

The elevator next to them opened and a Doctor appeared. “Albus Dumbledore?” he asked.

Dumbledore sprang to his feet, followed by Harry. “Yes, that’s me,” said the Headmaster, moving Harry in front of him. The doctor looked at Harry questioningly. “This is Mr. Potter. He’s most concerned with Mr. Malfoy’s prognosis.”

Harry wanted to grab the doctor by the front of his robes and scream “Where’s Draco? Is he okay?” but he was too afraid of what the answer would be. Straightening his back, he braced himself for the worst.

“Yes, well, Mr. Malfoy is fine.” Harry stumbled back in relief, and Dumbledore caught him. The doctor smiled. “We were able to remove all the metal from his arm and give him a variety of draughts to stop the poisoning and regrow his muscles and skin. We also gave him some pain medication as well as a sleep aid, as he is going to have a rather long night. He has to regrow all the muscles of his forearm and wrist. I expect he’ll be asleep for twelve to fourteen hours, then when he wakes, he’ll have some itching and burning while his wound heals, and there will be a rather bad scar, I’m afraid. But he should be up and able to return home in forty-eight hours at the most, just in time for Christmas. We have him in a room now, if you’d like to see him.”

“Where is he?” Harry asked. Everyone was now standing around him, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley with tears in their eyes, and the twins high-fiving each other exuberantly.

The doctor grinned again. “Are all of you coming?” Everyone nodded. “Well, then, follow me.”

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Draco was sleeping peacefully in a large bed in the burn ward. His hair was no longer bloody, and all the scratches and bruises on his face were gone. The only indication that there was anything wrong was that his left arm was wrapped in bandages from his elbow down to his fingertips, which Harry was glad to see were pink again. Harry had to clap his hand over his mouth to prevent a sob of relief from escaping. He went to Draco’s bedside and took his right hand in his, just gazing at his face and stroking his hair.

No one said anything until a nurse entered the room to check on Draco. Mrs. Weasley immediately demanded that another blanket be added to his bed; she felt it was a bit cold. Harry began to badger the nurse with questions about what they had done to Draco, which she answered happily enough for a while. When it became apparent that Harry was not going to stop until he had gleaned every last detail out of her, she held up a hand to shut him up. “Love,” she said to him patiently, “he’s fine. Stop worrying. The only thing he’ll have to show for this ordeal is a little scar.” As she said this, her eyes flickered to Harry’s forehead, where his scar was raised an angry white, though not as bad as it had been a couple of hours before. “Now,” the nurse continued, “I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. Visiting hours are over.”

Harry shook his head at her. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. The determined look that Draco so hated had crept into his eyes.

The nurse, intimately familiar with the inner workings of people’s minds after years on the job, saw that Harry meant it and would not be swayed. She had learned a long time ago which battles to choose and which to admit defeat to. She sighed heavily. “Fine, love, but I don’t have any place for you to sleep. You’ll have to make do.”

Harry relaxed a bit. “That’s fine. I don’t think I’m going to get much sleep until he wakes up and I can hear him tell me he’s really okay anyway,” he said.

Everyone kissed him bye and slowly trickled out of the room. He pulled up a chair next to Draco’s bed. He stroked Draco’s sleeping face for a moment, then took his right hand in both of his. “I love you so much, Draco” he whispered. He lowered the rail on that side of the bed and laid his head on Draco’s stomach. Despite his prediction, he was asleep in minutes.

Chapter Text

Draco had no idea where he was when awoke, but he didn’t really mind as he felt slightly stoned and happy. He figured if he felt this good, it couldn’t be all bad. It was very early in the morning, and the growing sunlight had just begun to filter through the windows of his room. He tried to sit up to survey his surroundings and found that he couldn’t. It seemed that his left arm was immobile, and there was something heavy on his stomach.

He craned his neck and looked down. There was Harry, fast asleep, one arm thrown over Draco’s body and the other crooked at what looked like an uncomfortable angle so that he could hold Draco’s hand. Draco smiled drunkenly and looked over to his arm. He was shocked to see that it was wrapped completely in bandages, for it hurt not at all. Flashes of the previous day started to come back to him. The last thing he remembered was Harry being furious at him for having hired Sidney to decorate the house.

Draco’s brow furrowed and he wiggled his hip underneath Harry’s head. “Harry, wake up,” he said. At the sound of his voice, Harry’s eyes flew open and he sat upright.

“Draco! You’re awake!” he cried and sprang out of the chair he had been sitting in. He took Draco’s face in his hands and kissed him repeatedly. Draco smiled blandly, not sure what all the fuss was about. He woke up every day, after all. “How do you feel? Does your arm hurt? Do you need anything?” Harry asked in rapid succession. He was squinting at Draco, trying to make out the expression on the boy’s face.

Draco smiled placidly. “No, I’m fine. Nothing hurts, can’t really feel anything. Are you still mad at me? Where are your glasses? Where are we? Why aren’t you sleeping in the bed with me?” Draco was slurring a bit due to the effects of the pain killing draughts they had given him.

Harry smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, taking Draco’s hand again. “No, love, I’m not mad anymore. I’m so sorry about how I acted. There’s…more to it than you might remember. Um, my glasses broke and I haven’t gotten new ones yet. We’re at St. Mungo’s, that’s why I’m not sleeping in the bed with you,” he paused and looked at Draco’s untroubled face. “You don’t remember what happened yesterday?” he asked cautiously.

Draco smiled and shook his head. “Last thing I remember is us fighting and you running off. Did I fall and hurt my arm chasing after you?”

Harry couldn’t understand why Draco didn’t seem to remember anything, but he didn’t want to tell him now. “No, you didn’t fall. I’ll tell you all about it later, okay?”

Draco put his free arm around Harry’s waist pulled him down to him. Harry lay happily on his chest.

“You know, I’m not wearing any knickers. My whole arse is hanging out,” he giggled. “These sheets are scratchy.” He wiggled his hips to demonstrate.

Harry laughed and pulled him tighter. “You’re sort of cute all stoned like this. Far more agreeable as well.”

“Bugger off, Potter,” Draco said with another giggle, then yawned. “I’m sleepy. Will you come up here with me? I’m a bit cold,” he said in his most pathetic voice. Harry grinned again—Draco was well known for milking illness and injury for all it was worth. At the moment, Harry was just happy that Draco was feeling enough of himself to do so. He pulled his body the rest of the way on the bed and wrapped his arms and legs all around his boyfriend.

“Better?” he asked.

Draco just sighed contentedly. “Love you, Scarhead,” he mumbled.

“Love you too, Ferret,” Harry replied. He put his head on Draco’s chest again, just listening to his slow, steady heartbeat. It was the best sound he’d ever heard.

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Harry was still awake when the others started to arrive. Dumbledore and Lupin came first, as they were able to Apparate. They assured him that the Weasleys would be along shortly. At the sound of voices in the room, Draco awoke.

“Good morning, Draco,” the Headmaster said kindly. “How are you feeling?”

A look of horror spread across Draco’s face. He looked at his left arm, then at Harry. He reached up and touched Harry’s face, then ran his finger over his scar. It was still slightly raised, but no longer red. He flinched a little when Draco touched it, as it was still a bit tender.

“Love, what’s wrong?” Harry asked with concern, noting the look on Draco’s face. He flashed a look at Professor Lupin. “Go get a nurse!” he said, and turned back to Draco.

“No, it’s okay, Professor Lupin. I don’t need a nurse.” Draco looked up at the ceiling, his eyes and face going blank as he mastered his feelings. “My father tried to kill me. That thing burned my arm. I remember hearing him say the Killing Curse and thinking that I’d rather die than have that thing keep burning me, but then it just stopped. I don’t remember anything after that.”

The other three looked at each other uncomfortably. It seemed that Draco now remembered what had happened to him.

Harry kissed the back of Draco’s hand. “Maybe it’d be better if wait, love. You’re tired and I don’t want you to get upset.”

Draco looked at him stubbornly. “Why do you insist on treating me like I am a delicate piece of china? I am fine. Arm itches a bit, but otherwise, I’m ready to leave this place and put on some knickers, these sheets are killing me,” he said dramatically. Harry couldn’t help but smile at that. Draco was always making jokes at the most inappropriate moments. “Now, will someone please tell me what happened? I can only assume that my father is now somehow dead, since I am still alive.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably next to Draco and a guilty look passed over his face.

“What?” Draco demanded irritably.

Professor Lupin cleared his throat. Harry turned away from Draco, and leaned his face in his hands. Draco didn’t seem too upset at the thought of his father being dead, but Harry wasn’t sure how he’d react to the news that he was responsible. “Draco, I don’t know the whole story, but I saw what happened after you went outside. I was downstairs in the kitchen when I heard you scream. I ran up to the front door, and you were lying on the ground, screaming bloody murder. There was smoke rising from your wrist. Your father was at the bottom of the stairs, pointing his wand at you. He said something I couldn’t hear, then Harry stepped in between you and your father just as he said the Killing Curse. It hit Harry.”

Draco’s eyes grew wide and he tried to sit up again. “Harry, are you all right?” Harry only nodded his head feebly. Draco looked at his back, and tried to get him to turn around and face him by tugging at his shoulder, but Harry only shook his head no. Draco glared back at Professor Lupin, panic rising in his eyes. “What happened? Why’s he acting this way?”

Lupin licked his lips nervously. “When the spell hit Harry, it rebounded on your father. It killed him, Draco. They have his body down at the Ministry. They’ll hold it until you decide what you want to do.”

Draco relaxed back into his bed. “Tell them to burn it,” he said coldly, thinking of his mother. Lupin looked shocked, but Dumbledore nudged him to prevent him from saying anything.

“Harry, come here,” Draco said quietly. Harry turned to look at him first, and Draco nodded. He put his arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulled him down into a soft kiss. “Thank you. I don’t know what else to say,” he said sincerely. Then his eyes turned the color of cold steel. “But if you ever put yourself in harm’s way like that again to protect me, I will kick your arse.” Harry lifted his head and glared at Draco defiantly. Draco knew all too well that without words, Harry was telling him that he would do it again in a second. “Harry James Potter, I am serious. What if it hadn’t rebounded and had killed you? Do you think I really would have wanted to go on living anyway?” Draco’s voice was choked with emotion.

Harry laid his head on Draco’s chest and squeezed him tightly. It seemed he could not get enough of the feel of Draco’s body in his arms. “Shut up, Malfoy. You came far too close to death for my taste yesterday for me to even think about ‘what-ifs’ just now. I did what I wanted to do, and it worked. So you just shut up.” Harry’s voice was just as choked as Draco’s.

The two just held each other silently for a while as the two men looked on. Behind them, the door began to open slowly.

“Be quiet, he’s probably still sleeping,” came Mrs. Weasley’s voice. She came in on tiptoe, followed by several people.

Draco smiled at her. “I’m awake, Mrs. Weasley.” She rushed to the bed and, pushing Harry aside, gave Draco a patented Weasley grip and a big kiss.

Soon, the bed was surrounded by people, mostly red heads, though Hermione and Severus Snape were there as well. Everyone was ecstatic at Draco’s recovery. The room was quickly filling with flowers, candies and gifts. Draco beamed. He had never felt so much a part of something. He had never met people so full of love, and their openness and concern touched him deeply.

Everyone visited for about an hour, and then the doctor and a nurse came in and cleared everyone out, except for Harry, who refused again to leave. They did a very thorough examination of Draco, Harry squinting over their shoulders the whole time. When they had finished, the doctor announced that Draco would be allowed to go home that same evening. Harry and Draco grinned broadly at each other, and the doctor gave Harry Draco’s prescriptions for an Anti-Itch Potion and some Rapid Heal for his skin, and bid them both farewell.

Harry rushed to Draco. “I’ll get Ron and Hermione to bring you some clothes so we can get you home,” he beamed. “Is there anything in particular that you want to wear?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Haven’t you been listening? Just some bloody knickers! My arse is nearly raw!”

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The next few days were a flurry of activity for everyone as Christmas was rapidly approaching. Draco left the house each morning before Harry had even awaken to consult with his Law Wizard about unfreezing the Malfoy assets and putting him in control of the fortune. Between Mr. Vanmere’s office and the Minsitry, he was gone most of the day.

Harry, too, had a bit of business with the Ministry. They were doing an investigation on Lucius Malfoy’s death, and had called Harry in for questioning. He had been very nervous, until he arrived there. All the Aurors came out to greet him and pat him the back for a job well done, particularly the Order members. They were full of questions and compliments about his rebounding abilities, and many of them expressed unhappiness that he was going to play Quidditch instead of joining their ranks. By the time he reached the interregation room, he had a fairly good idea that the whole thing was a formality since they were treating him more as a hero than a criminal.

At the moment, Harry was returning to Grimmauld Place from his trip to Diagon Alley to Christmas shop. Draco was still out and everyone else seemed to be down in the kitchens, looking after the caterers and trying to sneak food. Harry, feeling a bit giddy, went into the drawing room and sat down on the couch, letting his packages fall all around him.

The house was beautiful, even he had to admit, though he had made Draco swear that he would never hire Sidney to decorate so much as a cake for him again. They had used primarily white and silver, draping the walls with large pieces of gauzy silk to push back some of the dark of Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had enchanted the ceiling so it looked as if it were snowing in the drawing room.

Harry smiled as he remembered how happy his godfather had been the previous Christmas. He looked at the enormous tree covered in silver baubles and tiny white candles and wished that Sirius could be here now. He was a nervous wreck and though Mrs. Weasley was good to talk to, Sirius had always had a different perspective on most things. He found himself wondering yet again what Sirius’ reaction would be to the thing Harry was about to do.

Harry rifled in his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet bag. Pulling the drawstrings open, he tipped it over in his hand. Two rings fell out.

As much trouble as Harry had had finding birthday presents for Draco, this is how easy finding the rings had been. The first shop he went into had been where he found them. The rings were made of a magical metal called miscere, which was a blend of platinum, gold, nickel, and copper. The rings looked silver in some light, a warm, yellowy gold in others. They were thick and flat, and around the center, the infinity symbol was engraved in a chain. Where the metal had been cut to make the engravings showed with the brilliance of a diamond when hit by the light, casting all colors of the spectrum. Harry had knownhe wanted them as soon as he saw them.

He turned them over in his palm now, then took one and put it on his left ring finger. Looking at it, he got a chill.

The door to the drawing room opened and Ron and Hermione entered, eating what looked to be two large brownies.

“Harry!” they both cried as they approached. He had not seen much of them since the holiday began, what with one thing or another. Harry watched as Hermione’s eyes caught the band on his finger.

“Oh, Harry, you found the rings! Let me see,” she said at once. Harry pulled his off and handed them over to her.

“Those are really cool, mate,” Ron said approvingly. “What are they made of?”

“Er, miscree, miseer, something like that,” Harry said nonchalantly, but he was very please with the impressed looks on his friend’s faces.

“Miscere?” Ron asked, his eyes wide. Harry nodded. “I don’t know how you manage, Harry. That’s one of the most magical metals there is. Never bends, never breaks, can’t be destroyed. It’s indestructible.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, the guy told me. Sounded appropriate for what they’re for. Have to last for eternity and all,” Harry said cheekily.

“Harry, they’re beautiful. Are you ready then? It’s tomorrow night, you know,” Hermione said.

Harry began to bite at his nails. “Yeah, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Bit nervous. What if he says no?”

Both Ron and Hermione guffawed. Down the corridor, they heard the front door open and Draco’s voice soon called out.

“Harry! I’m home! Where are you?”

Hermione hurriedly gave the rings back to Harry, who dropped them back in their bag. He pushed them back to Hermione. “Hide them! If I keep them he’ll find them!”

Hermione shoved them into her bra.

“Harry!” Draco yelled again as he walked by the drawing room.

Harry could see him through the doorway and his breath caught. He couldn’t quite get used to Draco in Muggle clothes. He had his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and was wearing a black cashmere turtleneck, Harry’s black pea coat (which Harry took as a huge compliment) and jeans. He looked amazing.

“I’m in here, brat. Stop your yelling,” Harry teased him.

Draco entered, smirking at him and eyeing the packages around him. “Well, you could’ve answered me. Are any of those for me?” he asked.

“Yes, so don’t you touch anything. Some of them are for Ron and Hermione too, and I don’t want them to see either.”

Ron started to furtively peer into the bag closest to him. Harry kicked at him with his foot and Ron pouted.

Draco smiled and sat down next to Harry. He kissed him quickly and leaned his back against him. Reflexively, Harry wrapped an arm around him.

“I’ll wait,” Draco said placidly.

“ Have you overdosed on your Anit Itch Potion?” Harry asked. Draco shot him a look. Harry laughed and snuggled Draco to him. “Where have you been all morning?” he asked the blonde.

“Oh, I went to Mr. Vanmere’s, then over to the Ministry. We finally got things settled. You’re looking at the sole controller of one of the largest wizarding fortunes in the world,” he said smugly.

“That’s great, Draco! You must be so relieved for everything to be back to normal,” Hermione said.

He smiled at her. “Yes, it is quite nice to be able to move about without worrying about having your arm seared off or your father killing you,” he teased. “I hate that bloody Muggle Underground thing, though. Harry, you have to teach me to Apparate. I have to go to the Manor after Christmas and make sure the house elves have kept everything in order. I can just hire a car for that trip though,” he said as he turned his face up to Harry’s. “Want to come with me?”

Harry had always been curious about Draco’s house. Malfoy Manor was legendary. “Of course. We can go Monday, if you want.”

Draco smiled and turned to Ron and Hermione. “The caterers are here, aren’t they?”

Ron, who was munching on yet another huge brownie that he had pulled from his pocket, held it up and smiled. “Yeah, they’re a bit put out with Mum though, as she keeps telling them how to cook everything. They make great brownies though,” he said happily as he took another bite.

Draco looked at him with disgust. “I’ve never seen two people eat more than you and Harry. It’s revolting. Honestly. Well, I’d better go distract your mother before the chef throws a fit. He’s a bit tempermental.” He stood to go.

“You didn’t sleep with him at one of your birthdays, too, did you Draco?” Harry teased.

Draco sent Harry a scathing glare, but was happy to see he was now joking about he whole Sidney affair. “Ha, ha Potter. No, I did not sleep with him,” he said as he walked away, “but he does give an incredible blow job.”

Harry threw a pillow at him from the couch, but Draco ducked it easily. He blew Harry a kiss and stuck his tongue out at him before quickly exiting the room with a supremely smug look on his face.

Ron and Hermione, who had been watching the whole thing, turned back to Harry.

“Really, Harry, he’s a prat. Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with him?” Ron asked.

Harry grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, quite sure,” he replied, and got up to wrap his presents.

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The next day passed far too quickly for Harry. He and Hermione had gone for a long walk that morning, going over everything Harry was going to say that night. He had asked her at least a dozen times if she still had the rings. He practically ran from Draco anytime the two got near each other, and he had been unable to eat anything all day. His nerves were totally shot.

It was now late in the afternoon and everyone was getting ready for dinner. Harry nervously checked himself in the mirror. He had bought new clothes for the occasion, and felt a bit of a prat, really. He was wearing nicely fitted black, flat front trousers (which he personally felt were too tight, but the woman in the shop had assured him they fit him just right) and a black stretchy button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had gotten new glasses, though they were nearly the same as the old ones, and was trying, as always to get his hair to lie down. He ran his hands through it with a roar of frustration, causing it to stand on end even more.

Ron emerged from their bathroom and looked at him. “Wow, Harry, you look great,” he said, somewhat startled. He had never known Harry to care about his looks before. “Draco’s gonna jump you,” he said as he towel dried his hair.

Harry smiled at him. He loved the fact that Ron had no qualms about still walking around naked in front of him despite he and Draco’s relationship. “Thanks, Ron. I’m really uncomfortable, though. Are you sure this stuff’s not too tight?” he said as he tugged at his pants and shirt.

“No, mate, they just fit. You’re used to wearing your clothes two sizes too big. You look good, now stop worrying.”

Harry sat stiffly on his bed, trying not to wrinkle himself. “I wish I could stop worrying. I’m a wreck,” he sighed miserbly.

Ron pulled on his trousers and sat next to him and patted him on the back. “Mate, stop it. It’s going to be fine. He’ll say yes, Mum and Hermione will cry half the night, the twins will probably explode something in celebration, and the rest of us will have a drink in your honor. It’s going to be fun. Relax.”

Harry smiled at him meekly. As they sat there together, Ron now tugging on his socks, the door opened and Draco walked in.

Draco had dressed for the occasion as well and Harry found that he stopped breathing for a second. He was wearing a tailor made pair of black wool dress trousers and a thin, slightly clingy silvery grey silk shirt, open at the throat. His hair was down and falling around his face in a white blonde frame.

Harry recovered a bit and said “Draco, could you please make an effort to not look like a bloody Calvin Klein model all the time?” Harry found himself worrying about his looks again. It was almost impossible to not feel a bit shabby in the presence of Draco’s easy elegance.

“What are you talking about? Whose Calvin Klein? And stand up, let me have a look at you,” Draco said sounding impressed.

Harry stood, blushing the whole while. Draco turned him around with gentle pushes to his shoulder and inspected him from head to toe. “Harry, that’s the first time I’ve actually been able to tell you have a nice bum while you were still dressed. You look incredible,” he growled as he pulled Harry to him and kissed him hard on the mouth. His hands crept down to Harry’s butt, and he pulled him into him with a low groan.

“Enough!! We have to eat dinner soon!” Ron said, his voice a higher pitch than usual and turning the famous Weasley red.

Draco pulled away from Harry and looked over at Ron. “Why don’t you leave us alone for a bit, Weasley? I’ll have him down in no time, promise,” Draco said, feigning innocence. Harry pulled back, noting the smoky color that Draco’s eyes were taking on. He was very familiar with it. He shook his head at Draco and smiled.

“Ron’s right, love. We need to get downstairs. There’s always later…” he said teasingly. Draco’s eyes flared as he ran them up and down Harry’s body appreciatively. “I may have to dress up more often,” Harry said, enjoying the effect it was having on his boyfriend.

Draco pouted at the last comment. “I don’t think so. That’s all I need is even more reason for women to throw themselves at you. After tonight, you’re back to your hideous, baggy clothes. I rather like being the only one that knows how amazing your body is. Now, if you insist on joining the others, let’s go. I am sort of hungry.”

Harry came back to reality with a bang. In just a few hours time, he was going to ask Draco to bond with him. His stomach flopped unpleasantly as he took Draco’s hand and followed him downstairs.

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Not for the first time that day, Harry had the unpleasant feeling that someone had put a fast forward on time. Dinner had been wonderful, even Mrs. Weasley had been impressed, but it was now over and the service staff was clearing the plates. Harry had been too nervous to eat much, or to even notice the menacing glares that Severus Snape was sending him over the table.

“Let’s open gifts!” Mrs. Weasley cried. Harry’s heart jumped to his throat.

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The time had come at last. Mrs. Weasley had just finished opening the last of her gifts and everyone was now settling back and looking somewhat expectantly at Harry.

Next to him, Draco was leaning back with a happy and satisfied look on his face. Harry had been totally overwhelmed by Draco’s gift. He had started by giving Harry several books about French history and the different regions of the country. Then, he had presented Harry with a full set of custom made dragon hide luggage with brass fittings bearing the initials HJP. The last thing Draco had given him was a large, manila envelope containing tickets and an extensive traveling itenirary. For spring holidays, Draco was taking him on a trip to France, starting at the Cote d’Azur and ending in Paris. Draco had family in France and was very familiar with the country, but Harry had never been outside Britain except to attend school. He was more excited than he could ever remember having been before.

Now, however, Harry’s was covered in a light sheen of sweat and his hands were shaking badly, all thoughts of their trip together gone. Draco noticed everyone staring at Harry and looked at him, confused. “What?” he asked.

Harry took a deep breath and stood. Dumbledore and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley beamed, while Severus Snape only managed to look more put upon, if that were possible. With a deep breath, Harry began.

“As all of you know, Draco and I have known each other for almost six years now. Needless to say, the first five were not exactly on friendly terms, but this past year has been quite different. Draco finally stopped being a prat, and I’ve had the chance to get to know him a bit better.” Harry paused as everyone laughed slightly at this. Draco was looking at him curiously. “Anyway, I’ve never been happier than I have been in the past few months with Draco. And I never want that to end. So, tonight, with our families and friends as witnesses, I, Harry James Potter, would like to make a proposal.”

Draco’s eyes grew comically wide. Harry found that he couldn’t look at him. He turned nervously to Dumbledore.

“As Draco’s legal guardian, I would like to ask you, Albus Dumbledore, for permission to bond for all eternity with your charge, Draco Lucius Malfoy, if it is his wish. Will you stand before all and grant that permission?” Harry’s voice sounded much stronger than he felt.

Dumbledore stood and beamed at Harry. Still sitting on the couch beside where Harry was standing, Draco’s face was turning bright red and he seemed to breathing more quickly. “I will stand for Draco, yes,” he said and then sat down.

Nervously, Harry turned to Professor Snape. “As a life long friend and confidante, I would like to ask you, Severus Snape, for permission to bond for all eternity with someone I know you care deeply for, Draco Lucius Malfoy, if that be his wish. Will you stand before all and grant that permission?”

Severus stood slowly. He looked at Draco, whose eyes were locked on Harry. Draco was positively glowing. Severus sighed heavily and clasped his hands behind his back. “Yes, I will stand for him, if that is what he wants,” he said, and sat back down.

Harry heaved a sigh of relief and turned to the Weasleys. “Arthur and Molly Weasley, I ask you as the only parents I have ever known, as the two people I know would protect me with their very lives, do I have your permission to ask Draco Lucius Malfoy to bond for all eternity with me?”

Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were shining as Arthur pulled her up from the couch. “Of course we will Harry,” he said. Mrs. Weasley managed a weak “yes,” before breaking down.

Harry turned now to Hermione. “Hermione?” he said quietly. Hermione was ready, and thrust the small bag containing the rings into Harry’s outstretched hand. Ron was right, she was crying too. Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After several seconds, he turned to Draco and dropped to one knee before him.

Draco was sitting on the edge of the sofa staring at Harry intensely. Harry looked up at him and tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach his lips. He turned the bag over, and the rings fell into his palm. He held them up for Draco to see.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, by asking you to bond with me, I promise that nothing will tear us apart, in this life or any other. I promise that your wants will be my wants, your needs my needs, your tears my tears, and your joys my joys. I will neither harm nor betray you, for doing so would only be a betrayal to myself. If it is your wish, I will be your other half, your heart and soul, until the end of time, as you will be mine.” Harry took another deep breath, and finally looked Draco in the eye. “Draco Lucius Malfoy, will you bond with me for all eternity?”

Draco sat silently for what seemed like forever to Harry, just staring into the boy’s eyes. The moment went on for so long that Harry finally poked Draco’s knee. “Love?” he whispered.

“Harry, are you mad?” Draco said quietly, his voice cracking.

Harry’s face fell and he sat back on his heels. His hand closed around the rings. “No, it’s all right, I understand. We are a bit young, maybe…”

Draco smiled at him. “What are you on about? Of course I will. I just can’t believe you—“

But Draco was cut off as Harry threw himself on him and kissed him so hard that Draco’s head hit the back of the couch. Everyone erupted in cheers.

When they stopped kissing, Harry took Draco’s left hand, very gingerly, as his wrist was still wrapped and healing, and slid the ring on his finger. After a moment, it magically sized itself to fit him. When he was done, Draco took the other ring and slid it on Harry’s finger. The two kissed again.

From where the twins were sitting, loud popping sounds began to erupt, causing everyone to jump and Harry and Draco to bang their teeth together painfully. Fred and George were setting off small fireworks in the shapes of lions and dragons. “Congratulations, mates!” they yelled in unison. Harry was thinking idly that the Weasleys were really rather predictable, but in a very good way.

Dumbledore stood and conjured several bottles of champagne out of thin air. “Let’s celebrate! And no running off again, you two,” he said to Harry and Draco, who were sitting entwined on the couch. They looked at each other and blushed slightly as everyone laughed.

Chapter Text

For one of the few times in his life, Harry awoke very early the next morning unaided. Immediately, happiness swelled inside of him. He and Draco were lying spooned and naked together in bed, and since Mrs. Weasley had now decided that they could sleep together since they were practically married, Harry didn’t have to get up and rush back to the room he had been sharing with Ron. He scooted closer to Draco, savoring the moment. He smiled as he looked down at their clasped hands on top of the blankets, their matching bands glinting in the early morning sun. He was still having trouble believing that he had actually gone through with asking Draco and that Draco had actually said yes. He buried his face in Draco’s hair and continued to smile to himself. After a few moments, he pulled away and spent the next couple of hours watching Draco sleep.

Draco woke to find Harry already awake and smiling peacefully at him. He was immediately overcome by his happiness and threw his arms around Harry and kissed him deeply. When they parted, he looked at Harry and sighed. “This is going to be the rest of our lives,” he said in wonder. “We’re going to have our own house, our own furniture, our own everything.” Draco smiled beatifically at Harry. “I never thought having to share everything with someone would make me so happy.”

Harry couldn’t stop smiling either. “You scared me last night. I thought you were going to say no for a second there.”

Draco laughed. “I didn’t even think to actually formally say yes, you should have known, you dolt.” He ran his hand over Harry’s bare chest. “It was so beautiful. I’ll never forget that, as long as I live.”

He and Harry kissed again. When they stopped, Draco lay half on top of Harry’s chest with his back to him and held their entwined hands up in front of him, studying their bands. “Did you pick out these rings by yourself?” he asked Harry.

Harry brushed his face against Draco’s hair. “Yeah. Found them first place I went. Aren’t they perfect?”

Draco pressed back against him. “Yeah, they really are.” Draco let their hands fall on his stomach. “So, when are we going to have the ceremony?”

“As soon as I fight Voldemort. That way if I die, you’ll be okay.”

Draco sat up on his elbows and looked at Harry aghast. “No way, Harry. That could be years from now. And Hermione was telling me last night that a lot of cool shit happens when two people bond. My love for you will provide you with even more protection against him, and bonded couples can usually tell when the other one is in any kind of danger, which could be very useful to us both. Add that to the protection you already have from your mother, and all the things you’ve learned this year, I’ve no doubt that you’ll win. So, needless to say, there’s no way you’re going off to fight him without us having the ceremony.” Draco lay back down on Harry. “I want to do it as soon as possible. I can postpone our trip to France, and we can do it over spring holiday.” The bossy tone that Harry found so irresistible was creeping into Draco’s voice. He was nearly as stubborn as Harry when he’d made up his mind about something.

Harry ran his hand back and forth over Draco’s stomach. “I can’t Draco. Besides, it will be impossible while we’re at school. I can’t have any contact with you at all for two weeks prior to the ceremony, I have to spend it with the Weasleys. And you have to be on your own too. There’s no way we could do that at school. And, I sort of promised Snape that I wouldn’t go through with the actual ceremony until after I’d fought Voldemort. It was the only way he’d stand for you,” Harry finished in a sheepish voice.

Draco was nonplussed. “I’ll talk to Dumbledore about the separation thing. And don’t worry about Snape. I’ll talk to him too. We’ll have it at the Manor. I’ll arrange the whole thing. Oh, and you can help too, of course.” For Draco, the matter was now settled.

Harry had misgivings, however. “Draco, I’m not sure. I don’t want something to happen to me and it affect you. No matter what you say, love, I could die when I fight Voldemort.” Draco’s hand grabbed Harry’s in a tight grip. “If we’ve done the ceremony already, you’d die too. I don’t really know how I feel about that. And I guess I should tell you, I’m not going back to the Dursleys this summer. So I’m sure that as soon as Voldemort finds that out, that the blood spell has been broken, it won’t be too long before he seeks me out,” Harry added the last bit very quickly.

Draco’s heart dropped. “So, you’re not going to the Dursleys? Let me get this straight. As long as you spend time there, Voldemort literally can’t harm you. So you’ve now decided that you’re going to throw that away and not go there at all this year.” Draco was being more than a little sarcastic.

Harry sighed. “Draco, the protection my mother left me is in my blood, not just in my Aunt Petunia’s. I think it’s basically the same spell, I’ve only just now learned how to use it on my own. Before, I didn’t know enough to fully wield it, you know? Not to sound like I think I’m immortal or anything, but I don’t think he can hurt me anymore, whether I go to the Dursleys or not. I really don’t. And I am so tired of living my life in the shadow of the whole thing. It’s my destiny, Draco. One of us has to die. Trust me, if I thought it was going to be me, I’d go stay with the Dursleys every summer until I was a hundred. But think of it. I don’t want to start a new life with you under the shadow of my old one. I don’t want to worry about it anymore. I don’t want anyone else to lose their life over it. I want to be free of it, love. Can you possibly understand that?”

Draco thought of how relieved he had been feeling the last few days since his father’s death. He thought of how incredible it felt to just be able to be himself, with no worry about upholding his family’s name and honor, to be able to make his own decisions, and how happy it made him to think of his future with Harry without the encumbrances that would have existed if his father were still alive. It wouldn’t have happened at all if he were still alive, he thought to himself. He truly felt like he had been given a second chance, that a burden heavier than anyone could imagine had been lifted from his shoulders. He imagined that if he timed it by fifty, Harry’s burden probably felt much the same.

“Yes, Harry, I do understand. I don’t like it at all, but I understand it,” Draco whispered. Harry kissed him on the back of his head, very relieved. He had expected a rather large tantrum when he told Draco his decision about not returning to the Dursleys, and this quiet support was most welcome. But Draco was not finished. “It only makes me more sure that I want to have the ceremony as soon as possible. When I said I wanted to be with you forever, Harry, I meant it. If forever is only another week, or another month, or another year, then so be it. I don’t want to be without you, alive or otherwise. Call me stupid, but there it is.” He took both of Harry’s hands in his and wrapped both sets of arms around himself.

The two sat there considering the gravity of the situation for a long time before Harry finally spoke. “If you can convince Snape, we’ll do it spring holiday. But if not, Draco, I won’t do it. I don’t break my promises if I can help it, and I solemnly swore, on bended knee nonetheless. I’m sure you’re probably right about Dumbledore being able to work something out for us. We’ve only got two classes together.” Harry had to admit that he was very excited about the prospect of having the ceremony early. He just hoped Draco could see their way around Snape.

Draco smiled, trying to concentrate on the happiness of the situation, not the potential sadness. He’d had quite enough of sadness lately. “I always get my way, Harry. Don’t worry about Snape.” He rolled over on top of Harry and kissed him. “What say I make you late for breakfast?” he asked seductively. Harry kissed him back.

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The next couple of days were a blur of happy memories, as everyone cooed over the two boys at every turn. Draco had confidently announced to all that they were going to have the ceremony over spring holiday, much to Harry’s dismay, and Dumbledore had at once agreed to make the necessary arrangements to keep the two of them separated for the two weeks prior. Ron and Hermione were now in cahoots with Bill and Ginny, with whom they had started sharing rooms with when Harry and Draco were legally allowed to bunk together, and Hermione was putting Harry’s Invisibility Cloak to good use. Mrs. Weasley was happily oblivious. Harry and Draco spent a lot time fantasizing about how they would spend their future together; they dreamed of the places they’d go, the pets they’d have, the places they’d live. They didn’t mention the inevitable battle with Voldemort again.

Monday morning rolled around before they knew it and Draco woke Harry early.

“Whasup?” Harry mumbled as Draco kissed him awake.

“We’re going to the Manor today, remember? Our car will be here in an hour. We need to get ready and eat breakfast.”

Harry didn’t even complain, he was so curious about the house. He rose and groggily followed Draco to the bathroom.

An hour later, they were rolling along in what looked like a very regular sedan from the outside, but was every bit as luxurious as any limousine on the inside. Draco was drinking a scotch from the wet bar, despite the early hour, and Harry was dozing lightly on the seat next to him.

“I have something to tell you, seeing as how we’re officially together now,” Draco said casually.

Harry jerked himself awake. “Yeah, what’s that?”

“I’ve decided to hire private tutors to finish my education. I’m going to move to Montrose with you so I can be with you while you train. It’s too far away otherwise. I don’t want it to be a bother for you to get back and forth, and besides, some time away from England might do us both good. It’s very beautiful there from what I’ve read. Near the coast and all.”

Harry smiled at him. “When did you decide this?” he asked him, clearly pleased by the decision.

“Yesterday, when we talking about our future. My probably being made Head Boy next year just isn’t important to me anymore.”

Harry took his hand. “Thank you. I think it’ll be lovely. We’ve never lived just by ourselves before.”

“Yes, I know. It will be cool. Also, I’ve decided to become a financial backer for Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. I mean, for us to become financial backers for them.” Draco smiled. “I’ve got to get used to including you in all my decisions, don’t I? Anyway, they came to me with a proposal to open a factory and mass-produce their goods. They also want to either buy out Zonko’s in Hogsmeade, or open a new store there and put them out of business, as well as a new store in Paris, Amsterdam, New York and Los Angeles. Depending on how those do, we might expand further. I figured since you gave them their start up money, you wouldn’t mind.”

Harry looked at him incredulously. “You want to do that? Really?”

Draco nodded firmly. “Yeah, they’re bloody brilliant, Harry. I think it could potentially earn us a lot of money. Particularly the manufacturing aspect of it. We could end up making joke products for any number of the competitors, as well as our own. We could end up monopolizing the entire wizarding joke world. Honestly, I can’t believe those two aren’t Slytherins. What do you think?”

Harry was very bemused. He thought it was odd that Draco wanted to invest in a joke shop, but as he knew nothing about business at all, he didn’t feel the need to question it. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you think.”

They rode for another two hours, discussing the ceremony and playing around in the back seat. Harry was happy to notice how many times Draco looked at his ring. They had entered a very wild woodland area with only a single narrow lane when Draco looked out the window and smiled. “We’re here Harry. These are the outer grounds to the Manor. They used to be our ancestral hunting grounds, until my great-great something or other grandfather starting breeding dragons in there.” Draco looked at the forest wistfully. Harry could tell he was very moved to be coming home. “Your oaf of a friend Hagrid would love it here, if he ever comes back to England.”

Hagrid had gone off to France with Madame Maxim during the summer of last year. The two had gotten married and were currently touring the world together.

Harry looked out the window over Draco’s shoulder. “Hagrid’s not an oaf, you snot.” Harry shot back. “Are there still dragons in there?”

“Only one, as far as I know. I don’t get out there much, but I hear it sometimes. Or at least something big that roars a lot,” he said nonchalantly.

Harry stared in wonder, hoping to catch a glimpse of it. “Why doesn’t it burn your house down?” he asked.

“The house is quite a ways away yet, Harry. Dragons are very territorial and don’t leave their space as long as they have enough to eat. The forest is full of game, so he or she is quite happy I imagine.”

“Wow, I own a dragon now,” Harry said quietly.

Draco smiled at how boyish Harry was being. He brushed his hair off his forehead and smiled to himself at the wide-eyed look on Harry’s face. You own more than one dragon, Draco thought. He squeezed Harry’s hand, and turned back to the window.

They drove another hour still, then turned onto yet another lane, this one a bit wider and less wild. A small stream ran along one side of it, and Harry smiled as he noticed a family of black swans swimming along. Far ahead in the distance, he could make out what he thought was a huge gate.

“Are we there?” he asked Draco, growing ever more impatient.

“Not yet, love. We’re almost at the gate though, then the house is about five miles in.”

Harry groaned. “I’m starting to think this place doesn’t bloody exist and you’re just dragging me out here to kidnap me or something.”

“It’s there love, I assure you. Though locking you up in one of the towers does rather appeal to me,” Draco teased.

Harry leaned forward towards the window as they approached the gate. His mouth dropped open. It was massive, and had a large letter M with two dragons at least ten feet across twined around the outside of it. As they approached, the car came to a halt and Draco rolled down the window. He held his wand out and pointed it at the gate. “The son and only heir,” he said loudly, and the gates begin to soundlessly pull open. He looked at Harry, who was still ogling the gate. “Have to change the password, huh?”

Harry just shook his head in agreement, eyes tilted upwards as they drove past the huge dragons.

Inside the gates, the grounds were extremely well manicured. Huge coniferous trees were everywhere, giving the place the feel of a Grimm fairy tale. As they came around a sharp bend in the cobblestone lane, Harry got his first glimpse of Malfoy Manor. He gasped out loud.

“Draco, that’s not a house. It’s a bloody castle,” he whispered in awe.

Indeed, Malfoy Manor had once been a castle. Built in medieval times, it was constructed of stone and mortar, complete with the remnants of a moat, now a flowing stream that encircled the Manor, and three defensive turrets along each wall.

“It’s not as dreary as it looks,” Draco commented, though Harry didn’t think it looked dreary at all. “The inner walls have been modernized with lots of windows and such, so it’s actually quite comfortable. I think you’ll like it.”

Harry rounded on Draco. “How much fucking money do you people have? And don’t tell me it’s ‘gauche’ to ask. I have a right to know now.”

Draco looked blandly at him. “Well, I don’t have exact figures, but I am, I mean we are, now in control of assets totaling approximately $700 million galleons.”

Harry glared at him. “Fine, Draco, don’t tell me then. See if I care. I don’t even know how much money I have, thank you. It doesn’t really concern me. It’s just, this place, it’s bloody unbelievable. I can’t believe you grew up here. Your house is bigger than the entire neighborhood where I grew up,” he said in wonder.

Draco took Harry’s hand. “Harry, look at me.” Harry did. “I’m serious.”

Harry seemed puzzled. “About what?” he asked.

“About the money, love. Mr. Vanmere just had everything appraised and valued after my father died.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open and he gasped. “Holy shit,” was all he could say. The car drove over a drawbridge and stopped in a stone courtyard with topiary dragons sculpted out of the hedges. There were large marble statues in each corner, and a large fountain of a dragon spewing water from its mouth in the center. There were two carved and fierce looking dragons on the mammoth wooden doors to the manor. Harry found the whole thing rather intimidating, but he could tell by the look on Draco’s face that it was a welcoming sight, at least to his eyes. The driver got out and opened the door for them.

“We’re home,” Draco said happily and hopped out of the car.

As they approached the entryway, the two huge doors swung slowly open. Harry could see at least fifty house elves lined up on either side of the corridor, bowing in welcome.

The foyer was as big as the dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, and a huge fire was blazing merrily. A large Belgian tapestry of the Malfoy family tree was hanging proudly for all to see, as well as a large platinum shield bearing the two dragons of the Malfoy family crest. Thick carpets were thrown over the cold marble floor, and priceless mahogany furniture was tactfully placed throughout.

“Master Draco has returned!” one elf yelled in what was an almost dignified voice for a house elf.

“That’s enough,” Draco said, trying to sound kind. Harry couldn’t help but notice that many of them cringed as Draco came near them. “We’re only going to be here for a bit today. This is Master Potter, he’s going to be living here with me.”

They all bowed low to Harry, who became very uncomfortable and began to fidget. “Er, you can just call me Harry, if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t know who Master Potter is,” he said with a friendly smile. Several of the house elves beamed back at him.

“Okay, well, thank you,” Draco said again. In a flurry, most of the house elves dispersed, but a few remained to take their coats.

“Want the tour?” Draco asked. Harry nodded and they were off.

The two had spent close to three hours wandering through the castle, Draco showing Harry all the secret passageways and tunnels as well as the storage dungeons deep below the main level. There had been several uncomfortable moments as Draco recalled his father’s nefarious activities in some of those rooms, but he was happy once again now that they were back in the main living area. Draco went about showing Harry his old bedroom, and after a bit of deliberation, the two decided they would pick out a new bedroom for themselves. They chose one high in an eastern facing tower that was circular and ringed in mullioned windows. It reminded Harry a lot of Gryffindor Tower, where they slept at school, except it was quite a bit larger. Harry could not believe the riches all through the house. Where he had found Hogwarts to be a luxurious step up from his living conditions at Privet Drive, Draco must have found it a quite step backwards.

Directly off the castle was a large stone courtyard surrounded by a high wall that was covered with ivy. Even now, in winter, the hedges were kept sharply trimmed and the dormant beds neatly mulched.

“I thought we could have the ceremony here,” Draco said, “It will be gorgeous in the spring, everything will be in bloom.”

“Yes, it looks perfect.” Harry agreed.

They moved through an ivy-covered archway and the back yard opened up into a massive garden with a topiary of animals and more coniferous trees hiding little grottos and paths. Harry could see a large greenhouse in the distance, as well as a stable and a guesthouse.

“I thought the beds I planted at Privet Drive were nice,” he mused.

Draco looked over at him. “I want to see it,” he said.

“What?” Harry asked him.

“Where you grew up. Where those Muggles kept you as a house elf. I want to see it. Come, we’ll have the car drive us there now.” He took Harry’s hand and began walking them back towards the house.

Harry groaned. “Draco, really, it’s nothing. I don’t really want to go back there.”

Draco turned and gave him a stern look. “Please?” he said. But Harry knew from the look in Draco’s eyes that he was already defeated.

“Fine,” he mumbled. He looked back over his shoulder at the grounds behind him. In the distance, a loud roar shook the air. Draco looked back at Harry, who had stopped in his tracks, and was looking towards the sound with an ear-to-ear grin.

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It was nighttime when they finally arrived at Privet Drive. They could see the silhouette of a large plastic Santa Claus on the roof, but it was dark, as was the rest of the house.

“Not home,” Harry said grumpily. “Can we go?”

Draco opened the car door and got out. “No. I’m going in.”

Harry watched in frustration as Draco traipsed across the lawn. Shaking his head, he got out and followed him.

“Alohomora” Draco said at the front door. Harry heard the lock slide back and he reached out and pushed the door open.

“If Dudley’s here, I’m going to let him eat you,” Harry teased. But he knew no one was home. The house was silent. He turned on the light and started up the stairs, Draco trailing behind.

It was very strange to be back here. He had thought for a long time now that he would not ever return to this house, and he felt a weird sense of sadness now. He pushed open the door to his bedroom.

“This was my bedroom,” he said to Draco as he switched the light. The bed was stripped and the wardrobe stood open and empty, as did his writing desk. The Dursleys had obviously rifled through both to make sure they were totally empty after he’d left. “There’s the window Ron rescued me from that night in the car,” he said quietly.

Draco surveyed the room with slitted eyes. It was cold, and it looked like it had never been lived in by anyone. He moved away and opened the door to Dudley’s room, which was the complete antithesis of Harry’s. The bed was covered in thick and inviting down comforter, and shelves and drawers overflowed with things.

“Are these things….toys?” Draco asked, running hand over Dudley’s television and computer. He pressed a button on the stereo and music blared. He jumped and slammed the button off.

Harry smiled at him. “Sort of. Come on, I’ll show you downstairs and then we’re leaving.”

Once downstairs, Harry stopped in front of the cupboard under the stairs as Draco came up behind him. “What’s that?” he asked.

Harry reached out and turned the knob on the small door. A dank, musty smell came from the cupboard. He reached in and pulled the string on the light, and a fat spider fell onto his hand. He could see many more of them scurrying into corners from the light. He watched all the creepy things moving about and thought, They’re still here, I see. He turned to Draco.

“This was my room until they found out I was a wizard,” he said softly, voice filled with sadness. He turned back around and stooped over, peering into the cupboard that had once been his world.

The Dursleys had not done anything to it since he moved out. His small cot was still pushed up against one wall, and several of his children’s books and toys were still littering the floor. He had no idea there was anything of his still in here. He bent and began picking them up, stuffing as much as he could into his pockets. Harry was so big now that he barely fit inside the cupboard with the cot. He looked at it now, with a threadbare cotton sheet thrown over it, and wondered how his life would have turned out if Hagrid hadn’t shown up on his eleventh birthday. His eyes went blurry, and for a second he could almost see a small, green-eyed boy with disheveled black hair staring at him from the corner. He stood up quickly, banging his head on the ceiling, and backed out of the small space.

“Let’s go,” he said to Draco. He was about to cry and wanted nothing more than to get out of that house. He swept past Draco back to the front lawn.

Draco stood and glared at the small space under the stairs. He was the picture of controlled fury. If Harry had bothered to look at him as he passed, he would have been very disturbed at how very much Draco looked like a young Lucius at that moment. Draco’ hands were clutched into fists at his sides. “You will pay, Muggles,” he snarled as he shut the door to the cupboard and followed Harry outside.

Harry was standing on the lawn of Privet Drive, breathing hard. He was losing the feeling of suffocation now that he was back out in the open, but only slowly. Draco came up and put his arm around him. “Are you okay?” he asked him.

Harry nodded. “Just don’t ever ask me to come here again. If I’d known it was going to upset me like this, I would have refused.”

Draco took him in a full embrace. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t know,” he said awkwardly.

Harry only nodded again. “Can we just go?” Draco nodded and they returned to the car.

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It was very late when they made it back to Grimmauld Place, and everyone had already gone to bed. Harry and Draco settled in the drawing room for a bit, discussing various things, but mostly Harry’s finances. Draco was absolutely appalled that Harry had not been lying when he said he didn’t know how much money he had. He had made Harry promise to give him all his documents so that he could turn them over to Vanmere.

Draco had also received an owl that day from the lawyer. He had requested some information about real estate for sale in the greater Montrose area and Mr. Vanmere had sent it along. The only problem was, all of the prospective properties were huge manors, much like Malfoy Manor. Harry balked at buying such a place for just the two of them, stating that he thought a nice three or four bedroom house would do. Draco balked at living in squalor. When neither of them could convince the other, they resorted to fighting dirty.

Harry leaned over and kissed Draco softly on his neck. Draco retaliated by running his hands under Harry’s tee shirt, kissing his neck, and nibbling on his earlobe. Harry, who always lost control far quicker than Draco, escalated things by tearing Draco’s shirt off and throwing him on his back. At that point, neither of them could remember what they’d been disagreeing about, and neither of them cared.

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Ginny Weasley was having trouble sleeping again due to Bill’s snoring. She stretched and glared at him angrily in the dark. She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and padded out the door and down the stairs.

As she was approaching the bottom landing, she saw a light streaming from the slightly open drawing room door. She started forward to investigate when she heard a loud gasp, followed by a groan of “Oh, Draco, yes….”. It was obviously Harry.

She froze in her tracks. Ginny Weasley, you turn around and go right back upstairs, her mind instructed. Her feet, however, were carrying her forward. She reached the door in short order, and leaned her face into the crack.

Harry was sitting on the sofa, his head thrown back and mouth open, hands buried in Draco’s hair, whose head was buried in Harry’s lap. Ginny clapped her hand over her mouth and looked behind her as if to check that no one was watching her. She squatted down on her heels and turned back to the scene in the drawing room.

Ginny watched for several minutes as Draco slid his mouth over Harry. She would concentrate first on Harry, then on Draco. It seemed far too soon to her when Harry began to moan Draco’s name over and over again, and his breathing increased. He gripped the edge of the sofa cushion and pushed his hips up, several guttural grunts erupting from his open mouth. After a moment, he relaxed and Draco stood up before him, looking at him hungrily. “Pull up your pants,” he directed Harry as he dragged his fingertips down Harry’s chest. “We’re going upstairs. I’m not quite done with you yet.” Harry’s eyes went misty as he did what he was told. He stood and the two kissed, then turned towards the door.

Ginny’s paralysis finally broke. She knew she’d never make it up the stairs before them without them seeing her, so she ducked and hid behind the coat rack in the foyer. She watched as the two made their way breathlessly up the stairs.

When she was sure they had gone, she emerged from her hiding place, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Okay, that was the hottest thing I have ever seen. Who’s going to be jealous now, Hermione?” she said slightly breathless. She went downstairs to make herself a cup of hot cocoa.

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Draco had left Harry sleeping peacefully in bed this morning and now arrived in front of 4 Privet Drive as the Muggle neighborhood was coming awake. He watched from his hired car as Vernon Dursley made his way onto the front porch to retrieve his morning paper. “Whale,” Draco mumbled.

It was an hour or so later when Vernon, Petunia and Dudley all made their way out the front door towards their car. Draco was horrified at the sight of Dudley; he was absolutely monstrous. That animal used to beat Harry up for sport, he thought angrily, thinking of how small Harry had been when he first met him. His gaze then shifted to Harry’s Aunt Petunia. And you did nothing to stop it. His eyes had gone cold again as he stepped from the car.

Vernon Dursley looked at the nicely dressed young man who had just emerged from the non-descript sedan across the street. He looked an okay sort, except for his long hair, but Vernon did not like the way he was staring at he and his family. He stood and faced the blonde.

“May I help you?” he called out to him.

“No, thank you. Only looking,” the young man replied. His voice was like ice and a rather wicked looking smirk played on his lips. He stared at Vernon Dursley for a moment more, then his eyes flicked over Petunia and Dudley. Vernon was about to speak again, when the driver of the car opened the door for the young man. He got in, raised his arm at the Dursleys and seemed to mutter something under his breath. His driver shut the door, and the car drove away.

“That was odd,” Vernon said to Petunia as he got in the car. Petunia agreed and quickly scanned the street to make sure no one had noticed. Vernon backed down the driveway. Out of nowhere, a large dump truck came flying down the street and struck the Dursleys as they pulled out. It was only the beginning of their problems.

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“Can I help you?” the fat Muggle called to Draco.

You could drop dead, that’d be a help, Draco thought. “No, thank you. Only looking,” he replied, unaware of the icy tone in his voice.

Draco watched as the man got he and his family into their car, casting nervous looks in his direction the whole time. The fat Muggle stood straight again and faced Draco. Draco indicated with a subtle move of his wrist for the driver to open his door. He got inside the car and sat down, still staring at the Muggles who had injured Harry so badly. He lifted up his right arm, where his wand was concealed in the sleeve of his coat, and muttered “Toujour Noir” almost seductively. He indicated to the driver that he was ready to leave, and the man shut the door and they sped off.

The Black Curse was one of the most powerful dark curses known to wizard kind. It had been invented by a very powerful French warlock in the eighteenth century when his lover had left him for another. The victim of this spell would experience the thing he feared most over and over until it eventually drove him or her mad. There was no rest or happiness for one under its spell. Only the darkest of wizards knew of the spell’s existence, as it had been passed down only verbally through the most evil of orders. Naturally, Lucius Malfoy had taught it to Draco when he about twelve, though Draco had never cast it before now. He couldn’t help but smirk as the car carried him to Diagon Alley for him to attend to the rest of his business, which he intended to use as his cover for being away when Harry asked him where he’d been. He didn’t want to lie to Harry, after all.

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For Vernon Dursley, his downfall had already begun. His back was injured in the accident and he was forced to take off considerable time from Grunnings for his recovery. During his absence, a younger man handled his position, and Grunnings decided they didn’t really need Vernon Dursley after all. He was released with a very small pension, and as his back never fully healed, was unsuitable for almost all work. He spent the rest of his days in constant pain, and was only able to sit idly by while his house fell into disrepair and the possessions he took such pride in became old and outdated. His appearance suffered as well, as he was unable to get out and get properly groomed. Vernon Dursley turned into a fat, greasy, unkempt slob, the very type of person he most detested.

Vernon’s wife Petunia might have helped her husband, but she was having problems of her own. Every night, she dreamed of her sister Lily. In her dreams, Lily was handing over her son with a bright, trusting smile. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Lily would ask. The boy was pretty, with black hair and bright green eyes, but he had a disturbing scar on his forehead, and Petunia already had a son. Petunia always took the baby and locked it away in a small box, where it would cry piteously. Lily would rush in and beat on the lock with her small fists until they were bloody. “Why, Petunia, why? He’s your flesh and blood!” Lily would scream at her sister. Every morning, Petunia Dursley would awake with a scream on her lips. Soon, she started seeing Lily’s face everywhere she went. She would squeak and run away from these imagined Lily’s, hand clasped to her trembling mouth. Petunia Dursley became the crazy lady at 4 Privet Drive that all the neighbors gossiped about.

Dudley Dursley also had some problems to crop up. He had started having problems keeping his food down the night of the accident that injured his father. Two weeks later, back at Smeltings, he had already lost considerable weight. It seemed he was capable of only eating just enough to keep him alive, and no sweets or candies at all. Every time he tried, he threw up violently. He was constantly hungry and weak. He lost his place on the school boxing team and, sensing weakness, his former mates began to bully him. He received weekly, sometimes daily, beatings at their hands. Dudley had been a bully for so long that the teachers mostly turned an eye to this new phenomena, feeling he was getting what he deserved. For the rest of his life, Dudley would be the weakest person in any room, always picked on and abused. He lived a very lonely life.

Draco, of course, never knew the details of their demise, but was very happy when he drove by Privet Drive some years later to find it ramshackle and dilapidated. All the lights, save one upstairs, were out and the house looked lifeless, much as Harry’s bedroom and cupboard had looked to Draco on that visit long ago. “Well father,” he had said to the empty car that night, “it appears all those lessons weren’t lost on your son after all.”

Chapter Text

The holidays were quickly over and everyone found themselves thrown back into their Hogswart’s routine far too soon. Harry’s schedule was hectic again, what with Quidditch reaching a frenzied pitch and his lessons with the Professors beginning again, and both he and Draco were resigned to spending a lot of time apart, though neither of them were happy about it. Draco had just left Harry in front of Dumbledore’s office after watching his Quidditch practice, and was now making his way to Severus Snape’s office.

Draco stopped at the Potions Master’s door and straightened his hair and robes and plastered on his most winning smile. He raised his fist and rapped lightly on the door.

“Yes, yes, just a moment,” came the Professor’s reply. Moments later, the door opened and Severus’ face broke into a happy smile. “Ah, hello Draco. Do come in,” Severus said as he moved aside. Draco went directly to his usual spot and Snape joined him.

“Hi, Severus. Glad to be back at teaching?” Draco asked the teacher with a sarcastic raise of his eyebrow. He knew full well that Snape hated most of his students. The two made small talk for a while before Draco got down to business.

“So, um, Severus, Harry tells me that you made him promise we wouldn’t have our bonding ceremony until after he fought the Dark Lord,” Draco said as casually as possible.

Severus’ face fell into its usual sneer at once. “I should have known you wanted to talk about Potter. Seems to be all you can think of these days. I don’t know what’s happened to you, Draco, you used to be a force to be reckoned with. But yes, I did make him promise me that much. Since you seem to have lost the ability to look after yourself, I thought perhaps someone else should do it for you. I think the whole idea of bonding is idiotic anyway, as I told Potter to begin with. I only stood for you to make you happy, Draco.”

Draco smiled at the Professor, knowing him well enough to not take the bait of his words. “Is that what you’re concerned with? My happiness?” he asked sweetly. It was wrong of him, he knew, to use his charms against Snape knowing how the man felt, but he was determined to get his way.

Severus sputtered. “Well, of course, Draco. What else would I be concerned with?”

Draco continued to smile angelically, as it was clearly unnerving the Professor. “Severus, if you really want to make me happy, then tell Harry it’s okay for us to have our ceremony over spring holiday. He won’t do it otherwise, since he promised you and everything. That would make me very happy indeed.” Draco looked at Snape earnestly.

It was not working, however. Snape’s face grew stern. “Draco, I will not allow it. There is every possibility, and certainly probability, that the Dark Lord will kill Potter. While I have no doubt that it will hurt you greatly when that occurs, you are very young, and I dare say you’ll go on with your life. But if the two of you are bonded, then it will only be a matter of time before you die as well. I will not allow that. I won’t.”

Draco’s face darkened. So he only stood for me because he thinks Harry is going to die, his mind reeled.

“Harry is not going to die. You heard what happened when my father tried to kill him. He threw off the Dark Lord’s curse when he a baby, for Merlin’s sake, and he’s completely in control of his powers now. There’s no way he can be hurt by Voldemort. So you see, there’s no need to worry about me.” Draco was trying to regain his pleasant tone, and hoped that Snape didn’t know that Harry was, in fact, having a bit of trouble with the control issue when it came to his powers.

“Draco, as much as it may hurt you to hear this, Potter is little more than a lucky fool. Dumbledore may believe that he is capable of throwing off the Dark Lord, Potter may even believe it himself, but I have seen Voldemort as of late. He is not the same wizard he was when Potter was a baby. He’s far more powerful and far more dangerous. Killing your father doesn’t even begin to compare. When I think of the fate of our world resting on the shoulders of that idiot boy, it makes me cringe, to be truthful.” Snape looked at Draco evenly. “I’m sorry, Draco, but I won’t allow it. I think you’ve already made a mistake as it is, one that you will pay for with a very unhappy life if he does manage to somehow survive, but there’s nothing for it now. I won’t hand you over to certain death.”

Draco could no longer help it; he was seething. “Harry is not an idiot boy, and we are not making a mistake. Despite our ages, or whatever you think, we are meant to be together. I’ll let you in on a little secret, Severus Snape. If you don’t give us your permission to bond this spring, and Harry should die before we have our ceremony, it won’t make a difference. I’ll die anyway. I’ll bloody kill myself. I have no interest in a life that doesn’t include him.”

Professor Snape looked as if he’d been hit in the chest. “Listen to yourself! He’s brainwashed you too!” Severus stood and began to pace. “What is it about that boy? His father had it too, this strange ability to make everyone believe he was some sort of bloody angel that could rush in and save the day no matter what the situation, that he was everyone’s protector and hero, and you see the end he came to! His son is no better!” he bellowed at Draco.

Draco was on his feet now, too. “James Potter died protecting his wife and child! I cannot think of a more honorable death! It certainly beats dying in an alleyway after trying to kill your own son! Or spending your life locked away in a dingy dungeon doing a job you hate because you’re too bloody afraid to feel anything, much less love someone so much that you’d rather die than live without them!” he bellowed back at the Professor.

Snape stalked towards Draco, stopping inches from his face. The two glared at one another hatefully. “I do have feelings, Draco, despite what you and everyone else thinks. I loved Lily Evans, and she ran off and married Saint Potter the First. I loved your mother, and she ran off with the very devil himself. And I love you, Draco, and I don’t think I am going to stand by any longer while you try to ruin your life by running off with a boy who is already dead,” Snape hissed at Draco. Then, in one quick, catlike movement, he grabbed Draco’s face in both hands and kissed him forcefully.

For a moment, Draco froze in disbelief. He’d dealt with unwanted advances all his life, but those had been catcalls and propositions that he easily put an end to with his cruel wit. He had never had someone force them self on him like this before. It wasn’t until he felt Snape’s tongue trying to pry his mouth open that he was finally able to move. Apparently the man had taken his lack of response as permission to continue with his assault. Draco mustered all his strength and pushed the Professor away.

“What are you doing?!” Draco cried. “Are you mental? I’ll have your job for this, you disgusting, horrible, despicable—“

Snape cut Draco off. All the color had drained from his face and he looked absolutely horrified. “Draco, I am so sorry! Please, forgive me! My emotions got the best of me!” Severus Snape was wringing his hands and his face was full of worry. “Please, please, Draco, I’ll do anything. Please,” Snape begged.

Draco was wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and breathing hard. He felt slightly nauseated. “All right then. You will tell Harry, tomorrow at breakfast, that you have reconsidered and that you approve of us having our bonding ceremony in the spring. If you have not done so by the time we leave the Great Hall for our first class, I will go straight to Dumbledore about this little incident, who will no doubt report you to the Ministry.” Draco’s eyes hardened. “I might even tell Harry. Then you’d see what an ‘idiot boy’ he is.”

Snape’s face slackened in visible relief and he managed to smirk at Draco. “Well, Draco, I see despite your recent show of goodness, you haven’t changed that much after all. You will still use a situation to your advantage, a truly Slytherin quality. And I thought you were getting soft. Fine, I will tell your beloved Potter tomorrow morning. But don’t blame me when he fails you. Only when he does this time, you won’t end up in St. Mungo’s with a silly little burn on your arm. You’ll be buried in your grave.”

Draco, still wiping his mouth, stood straight and looked Snape in the eye. “As long as his is right next to mine, then that’s fine.” He swept past Snape to the door. He put his hand on the knob and turned back to Severus. “Oh, and by the way, don’t expect to be invited to the ceremony.” With that, he left Professor Snape alone.

The Potions Master sat down hard on his leather sofa, wondering how on earth he had just allowed that to happen. He lowered his head into his hands and wept bitterly.

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Draco ran the entire length of the corridor and up to the main level of the castle before stopping. He leaned one arm against the wall and was doubled over by a wave of nausea. Fighting not to throw up with all his might, he stood for several minutes getting himself back under control. He had to get back to Gryffindor Tower and regain his composure before someone found him like this, or worse, Harry returned from his lesson. Finally, feeling a bit more steady and less ill, he straightened himself and walked as calmly as possible up the stairs.

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It was rather late and Hermione and Ginny were the only ones still up in Gryffindor house. They were giggling for the hundredth time over Ginny’s story about the scene she had witnessed at Grimmauld Place the week before. Ginny was pleased-Hermione had tried to act nonplussed when she had first heard the story, saying that Draco and Harry were two of her best friends and that she didn’t find either of them remotely attractive, but she had continually asked Ginny to recap the event for her. Their recounting and giggling were cut short, however, as Draco entered the common room.

Hermione knew at once that something was wrong. Draco had not answered one insult the Fat Lady had thrown at him and his eyes had a wide, wild look to them. He was vigorously rubbing the back of his hand across his lips, which were already red and raw looking.

Hermione jumped from the sofa and went to him. She put one arm around his broad shoulders and guided him to the sofa in front of the fire. “Draco, what on earth is wrong?” she asked him, clearly alarmed.

Draco looked at her, still wide-eyed, and a high-pitched, bark like laugh escaped his lips. He let his head fall back on the couch with a groan and closed his eyes. “I can’t tell you, Hermione. If Harry ever knew….” He closed his eyes and groaned again, rubbing his mouth once more.

Hermione took his hand away. “Draco, you’re going to make your lips bleed if you keep doing that,” she said firmly. “Now, tell me what’s wrong. I won’t tell Harry if you don’t want me to.” Draco cast a wary glance at Ginny.

“Um, I’m going to bed,” Ginny said meekly. She stood and waved a quick good-bye. Draco and Hermione watched her go.

“Hermione, really, it’s important. I know your first allegiance is to Harry, and that’s fine. But you have to promise me you won’t tell him this, ever. Do you swear?” he asked her solemnly.

Hermione raised her hand. “I swear Draco. Now what is it?”

Draco thought for a moment about putting a hex on her so that if she did tell, she’d lose her voice for a few days and he would know, then realized that if he were to wake up one day and hear that Harry had killed Snape and was being sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life, he’d have a fairly good indication that she had blabbed. He realized a hex wasn’t really necessary.

He took a deep breath. “Snape just kissed me,” he whispered with a shudder.

Hermione’s eyes went wide with horror and she clapped her hand over her mouth. Draco just nodded his head at her. “Harry would kill him,” Hermione whispered.

Draco was looking off into space and had started rubbing his mouth again. She swatted his hand away. “Yeah, I know, that’s why you can’t tell him. I went to talk him into letting Harry off his promise about our bonding ceremony and we had an argument, and he just, just….totally lost control. He only stood for me at Christmas because he is convinced Harry is going to die when he fights Voldemort.” Tears began to well in Draco’s eyes.

Hermione stroked Draco’s hair. “You’ve got to get yourself under control, Draco. This could be really bad, and Harry’s due back any minute.”

Draco shook his head in agreement and took several deep breaths, fighting the urge to wipe his mouth again. “I’m going to brush my teeth. Better yet, I think I’m going to take a shower,” he said to Hermione. As he stood to leave, they heard the portrait opened. Draco groaned and sat back down. It was Harry.

“Loooovvveee,” Harry whined as he fake staggered across the common room and fell onto the couch, face down in Draco’s lap. “Can we go on holiday again? I am so bloody exhausted! Lupin showed up and knew about the wandless silencing charm I cast and, I was right, Draco, he’s got me trying every spell known to man without my bloody wand! I wish I knew how he found out about that. Then, goody goody, Dumbledore has permission from the Ministry now to hurl all kinds of horrible curses at me, even the freaking Unforgivables!, so that I can learn to control the whole rebound thing. I feel like I’ve been hit by a train,” he said as he rolled over and looked up at Draco. His eyes immediately went dark. “What’s wrong with you? Why are your lips so red? And your eyes look funny. Is your arm bothering you? Have you been putting your medicine on it?” He sat up quickly and looked at Draco with concern.

“No, my arm is not bothering me, prat. It’s virtually healed now, except for this ugly scar,” Draco said, absentmindedly rubbing his wrist. “I was just going to have a shower and go to bed.”

Harry was studying him closely. “What is wrong with you?” he repeated.

Draco sighed. “I went to talk to Snape about the bonding ceremony, and things got a little heated. He said some horrible things and I guess it just upset me. He agreed to let you off your promise, though. So we can have it in spring.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “He didn’t do anything to you, did he?”

Draco stood so he wouldn’t have to look Harry in the eye. “No, dolt, he didn’t do anything but piss me off. Why can’t you just be happy? We get to have our ceremony when we want to and Snape’s no longer invited. He’s going to tell you himself in the morning, so try to be civil long enough to hear him out, and then we’re rid of him.”

Harry stood and turned Draco around to face him. “Draco, are you lying to me? Are you okay?”

Draco smiled as sincerely as he could and kissed Harry on the cheek. “I am fine, honestly. Come shower with me?” he asked, putting his arms around Harry’s neck.

Harry’s instincts told him that Draco was hiding something, but he couldn’t figure out what. The temptation to use his Occlumency skills and look into his boyfriend’s mind was great, but he had promised he would never do that to Draco. He had never promised not to look in Snape’s mind, however, and figured the Professor would be off his guard tomorrow morning.

He smiled sweetly at Draco. “Already had one, after Quidditch. But I guess another wouldn’t hurt.”

The two said good-bye to Hermione and left the common room, Draco thankful that disaster had seemingly been avoided.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The next morning, Ron and Hermione were already seated and having breakfast when Harry and Draco arrived. Draco furtively looked to the staff table for Professor Snape’s looming figure, but did not see him there. His brow furrowed in worry. Harry seemed prepared to take Draco at his word about the promise being severed, but Draco still wanted Snape to say it to his face so there’d be no question. He nervously scanned the room as they sat down.

They had almost finished their meal when Dumbledore stood and approached the Gryffindor table. “Draco, may I speak to you for a moment?” he said from behind the blonde.

Draco nearly choked on his toast. There was a very serious tone in Dumbledore’s voice.
He stood without a word and followed the Headmaster out of the Great Hall, Harry and Hermione staring intently the whole time.

Once in the entryway, the Headmaster stopped and turned to Draco. “Draco, I know all about the unfortunate incident that occurred between you and Severus last night. He came to me early this morning and told me everything. He has taken leave for the rest of the year, with my approval. I wanted to check with you and see if this was appropriate in your eyes.”

Draco looked at the tops of his shoes, feeling slightly guilty. “He didn’t have to leave. I feel sorry for him, really.”

Dumbledore smiled at Draco. “He thought it best to take a break from teaching for a bit. He’s on important Order business now. So, may I take it the matter is settled and no further action needs to be taken?”

Draco shook his head. “Yes, Headmaster. I only threatened to tell to get him to let Harry off his promise.” He was feeling very guilty indeed.

“Ah, yes. Severus left this for Harry. I believe it is a written document doing just that,” Dumbledore said and handed a rolled up bit of parchment to Draco. “Do have a good day, Draco. I dare say I will be seeing you shortly,” the Headmaster said kindly as he strode off. He stopped and looked back at Draco. “Oh, and you may want to gently break the news to Harry. He suspects that something is amiss and if I know him, he won’t let it rest until he’s found out what it is. In this case, I think it’d be better to hear it from you,” Dumbledore said fondly.

Draco looked horrified. “He’ll kill him!”

Dumbledore only smiled and started to walk away again. “It will be some time before Harry sees Severus again, I think. He will have calmed down a bit by then. Perhaps tonight would be best. If you tell him now, the two of you will be late for Potions and a very big treat!” He shot Draco a sly look over his shoulder and disappeared down the hall.

“Lovely,” Draco muttered.

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The treat was that Dumbledore was taking over Snape’s classes for the rest of term. It turned out, however, that he was every bit as tough and exacting as Snape, if not as intimidating. Neville had even been able to produce a decent brew with the Headmaster’s patient instruction.

It was now evening, and Harry and Draco were lying in Harry’s bed, freshly showered and looking over real estate brochures, still having their argument about the size and quality of the house they were to buy. Draco had challenged Harry to show him something he found livable that Harry would agree to. In typical Draco Malfoy fashion, nothing Harry found was quite good enough. Not wanting to start a heated argument, Draco pushed aside the brochures. The news he had to give Harry would start enough problems.

“We’ll just have to visit there one weekend when you don’t have Quidditch,” he said to Harry. He was trying to think of how to bring up the Snape issue.

“Draco, I will not live in a bloody castle. We already have one. I want something comfortable,” he grumbled, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend and pulling him against him.

Draco took a deep breath. “So, what do you think about Snape leaving?” he said casually.

Harry grinned. “I think it’s brilliant. My last year here, and I don’t even have to put up with that slimy git. Dumbledore’s a much better teacher anyway.”

“There’s a reason he left, you know,” Draco began cautiously.

Harry looked at him and his face began to darken. “Does this have to do with last night? And your fight with him? And that bit of parchment letting me off my promise?”

Draco sighed and began. As he spoke, Harry showed very little reaction to the news that Snape thought Harry stood no chance against Voldemort. He knew that Snape felt that he would die or he never would have made the condition about postponing the bonding ceremony in the first place. As Draco continued, he increased the speed of his words rapidly, so that they were tumbling from his mouth.

“And then I accused him of having no feelings, and he said he did, then he grabbed me and kissed me, then I threatened to tell Dumbledore, then—“

Draco felt the rise in energy around him that could only mean one thing. Harry was getting angry.

“Stop. What did you just say?” Harry said.

“Um, I accused him of having no feelings and he got angry?” Draco said cautiously. The energy around Harry intensified, and his eyes were starting to glow. The hangings on his side of the bed began to sway back and forth as if being blown by a breeze that was coming from inside the bed.

“No, Draco. The bit about grabbing and kissing. Did I hear that correctly?” Draco could see the muscle in Harry’s jaw working as he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Harry, but” the clock on the nightstand shattered, as did the picture frames next to it, and Draco jumped a bit, “please, love, calm down.” The hangings all around the bed began to billow outward. “I’m not hurt. It’s over. He apologized, and he’s gone. Getting angry won’t do any good,” Draco said in his most soothing tone.

Harry flopped hard on his back and closed his eyes; Draco could still hear him gritting his teeth and could see him opening and closing his hands into fists. Draco reached over and took one of them and hissed a bit as a small shock went up his arm. “Harry, please, it’s okay,” he said repeatedly.

After several minutes, things seemed to be back to normal and Harry opened his eyes. “He’d better not ever show his face to me again,” he said quietly. His eyes were just green again, albeit bright, and the hangings were finally still.

Draco sighed with relief and fell over on Harry’s chest. “I know, love. I know.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The next morning at breakfast it was still evident that Harry was not over the news about Professor Snape’s advance on Draco. He slammed his goblet down, slopping pumpkin juice on the table every time he took a sip. He ate quickly and with aggression. The others were very uncomfortable, but didn’t know what to say to calm him down. Draco kept a firm hand on Harry’s leg under the table.

As if things weren’t bad enough, Lavender Brown approached Harry and Draco just as they were about to leave for a quick stroll on the grounds before they had to part for classes.

“Congratulations Harry!” she squealed. As usual, she ignored Draco. “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were being bonded? That’s so romantic!” Her eyes flickered to their rings. “Oh, look, you’re wearing a ring!” she squealed again.

Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione all exchanged looks. They had agreed they would only tell their closest friends the news, as Harry and Draco wanted to keep it just theirs for as long as possible.

“Who told you we were getting bonded?” Harry snapped.

Lavender looked taken aback by his tone. Harry was rarely snappy with people in his own house. “Well, there’s an article about the two of you in today’s Daily Prophet” she said and turned a cool gaze at Draco. “I’m sorry about your father, Draco.”

Draco shrugged. “Well, I suppose that makes one of us,” he mumbled, giving Lavender a very dirty look.

“Do you still have the paper?” Harry asked her.

“No, I left it with Parvati. She was reading it to the other girls when I left.”

Both Harry and Draco groaned. “Lovely, the whole school will know by the end of the hour,” Draco drawled.

Lavender grew huffy. “I came to congratulate you! If this is how he’s going to make you act, Harry Potter, then you deserve each other! I’ve never seen you so surly!” She threw Draco a disapproving look. “Maybe the paper was right about him!” she yelled before storming off.

Harry made a face at her and turned to the others. “I want a copy of that paper, if you guys find one,” he said. “Come on, Draco, let’s go outside. I need some air,” he said angrily.

Things did not get any better when they left the castle. Barely out of the entryway, they were greeted by a hoard of people brandishing cameras and Quick-Quotes Quills, all shouting questions at them.

“Mr. Potter, the Quibbler here. When is your bonding ceremony taking place?”

“Mr. Malfoy, you do realize that if Harry dies fighting You-Know-Who, you will also die if the two of you bond? Why did you agree to do it?”

“Misters Potter and Malfoy, Wireless Wizarding News here. How does it feel to be in control of one of the largest combined fortunes in the wizarding world? Do you plan to continue Lucius Malfoy’s philanthropic work that he did before joining forces with You-Know-Who?”

“Mr. Malfoy, who’s going to change their last name in the relationship when the two of you bond? Will you become Draco Potter? Or will it be Harry Malfoy? Or will you hyphenate?”

Both young men were standing surrounded on the stairs, eyes and mouths open wide in shock. Every couple of seconds, a flash would go off leaving the two of them blinking and dazed.

“Who the bloody hell are you people?” Harry cried, arm draped protectively around Draco and a hand out to shield them from the glare of the flashes. Just then, a very familiar face emerged just before them.

“Hello, Harry, Draco. Daily Prophet here.” It was none other than Rita Skeeter. “My question is for Draco. Why did you agree to bond for all time with the boy who killed your father? Do you plan to seek revenge for your father’s death?”

Before either boy could answer, Dumbledore emerged from the huge doors, an angry look playing on his face. “No one will be asking anymore questions today. I will ask you to please excuse yourselves from the grounds of this school at once. These young men have classes to attend and will do so without further harassment from any of you. If you insist on bothering them, I will contact the Ministry about a restraining order. Good day.” He placed a hand on each boy’s shoulders and guided them back inside.

As they re-entered the school, Hermione ran forward and thrust a copy of The Daily Prophet into Harry’s hands. “You’re not going to like it,” she warned.

Harry took the paper and sat down on the bottom stair of the nearest staircase. Draco joined him and the two silently read the article.

THE BOY WHO LIVED PROPOSES TO DEATH EATER’S SON, DRACO MALFOY!

The Daily Prophet was the first to bring you the news that the unlikely pairing of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had occurred, as the two had been spotted together in public on many occasions. We now have it on good authority that not only did the two spend a very romantic Christmas holiday together at a secret hideaway somewhere off the Hogwarts grounds, but that Harry Potter proposed to Draco Malfoy, and that he said yes!

And it wasn’t just your traditional proposal-Harry apparently asked his boyfriend of the past six months to bond with him, an ancient magical occasion that literally joins the two participants souls together for all eternity!

Several things about this recent coupling trouble us at the Daily Prophet. It is a well known fact that Draco Malfoy’s father, the late Lucius Malfoy, was a high ranking Death Eater who took his orders directly from the Dark Lord himself, and it is rumored that he may have had something to do with the death of Harry Potter’s parents. Draco Malfoy was arrested by the Ministry of Magic for illegal activities just this past summer, and would still be behind bars if not for the intervention of Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who is now young Malfoy’s legal guardian. While the Ministry would not comment on the details of his arrest, it is suspected that he aided and abetted the escape of his father from Azkaban prison that occurred just before his being taken into custody. According to those close to the case, Draco Malfoy would have been initiated as a Death Eater this year, after his sixteenth birthday in December.

Instead, Draco Malfoy is now engaged to the one person he may pose the most danger to: Harry Potter.

According to inside Ministry officials, Harry Potter was in some way involved in the death of Lucius Malfoy just weeks ago, and it is a well documented fact that the two young men were staunch enemies until just this year. Why the sudden change of heart, especially for Draco Malfoy? Harry Potter has made unorthodox friendships in the past, but should we in the larger wizarding world be concerned that he has put himself in mortal danger with this latest display of trust in someone who is a bit sketchy? Why has Albus Dumbledore allowed this liaison to continue under his very long nose these past six months? Will Draco Malfoy help deliver Harry Potter into the hands of evil? These are but a few questions that Daily Prophet would like to offer.

We hope that, for Harry’s sake, things are as they seem. As we all know, he has suffered immeasurable losses, and no one wants to see our hero lose his heart to someone unworthy. But, while a striking figure himself, Draco Malfoy is followed by a very dark and questionable past. We hope that people closest to Harry are continuing to keep his best interests in mind.

There was even a photograph of Draco, taken some years earlier during the TriWizard Tournament, in which he was smirking sardonically.

Harry looked to Draco, expected him to be very angry, and instead was surprised by the almost maniacal grin affixed on his face.

“Well,” he said, highly amused, “they’ve made me out to be a right spy for the Dark Lord. Perhaps I’ve got you under the Imperious Curse, Harry. Making you do my evil bidding,” he said as his grin widened. “Honestly, they could’ve gotten a more recent photograph. I’m quite better looking than that now,” he said as he studied the picture of himself more closely.

Harry’s eyes gleamed at him. “You are such a brat. I just want to know how they found out, that’s all.”

Dumbledore spoke from behind them. They had forgotten he was even there. “It could have been anyone Harry. You did buy rings, you know, and you are still a celebrity. Perhaps someone sold their story. It’s getting late, everyone. Your classes will be starting shortly. This little distraction seems to be over.”

Everyone stood to go their separate ways, as this was a day when Ron and Harry had classes together, and Draco and Hermione had Arithmancy together first period. Everyone was kissing everyone good-bye, when Draco leaned into Harry’s ear.

“They should know I don’t have you under the Imperious Curse, as you’d never get dressed or leave your bed again,” he whispered, then kissed Harry lightly. “I’ll see you later, Boy Who Lived.”

Harry rolled his eyes at him. “Name’s Harry, love.” Draco turned to leave with a wag of his eyebrows and Harry reluctantly let go of his hand. He watched longingly as Draco and Hermione walked together down the corridor.

“Wait!” Harry cried. Draco stopped and turned around. Harry jogged to him. “Give us another kiss. I’ve got two classes to get through before I see you again,” he said. Draco happily obliged.

Chapter Text

Not only had the media not left Harry and Draco alone, they had posted signs all around Hogsmeade offering money for any stories or photographs that they could publish about the couple. Needless to say, many of the students (particularly the Slytherins) had risen to the challenge, providing numerous pictures of the two walking the grounds at Hogwarts and eating various meals together. Someone in Gryffindor had even managed a photo of the two of them napping on the common room couch together, causing Harry to threaten them with quitting the Quidditch team if anything else of that nature surfaced. Because of all the attention, and because of who the two boys were, Harry and Draco had become something of a phenomenon in the wizarding world. Reports of people bonding were on the increase, and couples had started dying and bleaching their hair to look more like the boys. The paparazzi was a continuous presence just outside the gates of Hogwarts, and the one time Harry and Draco had attempted to visit Hogsmeade since the whole thing had begun, they had been mobbed before they made it halfway there.

Draco was getting his own bit of individual fame as well. The paper had stopped trying to portray him as a spy for the Dark Side who was only plotting to turn Harry over to Voldemort at first chance ever since the nurse who had cared for Draco at St. Mungo’s had told the story of how much in love the two had seemed to her. Draco was now being painted as what he was-a smart, handsome young man who had Harry wrapped around his finger. Girls throughout the wizarding world ate it up and Draco had recently topped many “Most Wanted” lists in several wizarding magazines and papers, toppling Harry himself on more than one occasion. Someone had even told Harry there was a call-in show on the Wireless Wizarding Network about how unfair it was that the two most eligible bachelor wizards had taken up with each other. Draco was absolutely inundated with requests from teen magazines to sit for professional photos. Draco pretended to be annoyed by the attention, but deep down Harry thought he was rather enjoying it, though he never took anyone up on their offers. This did not stop them, however, they just continued to print the fuzzy pictures taken of Draco all over the Hogwarts campus by savvy students.

There were also endless articles speculating on every aspect of their lives, which were mostly lies. Every other day there was the story of how the two had broken up, only to reunite in a sad yet romantic moment. Several focused on how Draco had killed his own father to protect Harry, as the real story had not yet been leaked for security reasons. No one wanted Voldemort to know that Harry could now rebound spells. Many others printed false dates and places for their bonding ceremony, told stories of extravagant purchases the two had never made, while still others paired Harry and Draco in various clandestine affairs with other famous wizards and witches. No one seemed to take into account that they were, in fact, students who never left the Hogwarts grounds. The fact that the two of them were moving to Montrose had been revealed and was causing a bit of problem for the town, as many papers had set up satellite offices there and were routinely stalking the Magpies compound.

Harry sighed as he folded that day’s edition of The Daily Prophet and placed it on the table before him. He was in Divination, and no longer even pretended to pay attention, only attending at all to spend time with Ron. He had just finished reading an article about how the Magpies had received a record amount of fan mail concerning Harry that week, and were having to publish another mailing address just to deal with it, as their usual one was getting clogged and the office was becoming overrun with owls. He leaned his chair back against the wall and closed his eyes. In a last attempt to get comfortable, he raised his arms behind him and rested his head in his hands.

He started daydreaming happily, using recent events as a backdrop. He and Draco had finally found a house in Montrose that they somewhat agreed on and were going there this weekend to see it in person. It was a huge, old farmhouse with its own lake situated in the middle of a large forest, away from prying eyes. The ad had said it needed a bit of work, but both had agreed it had promise. Harry imagined the two of them painting its rooms, arranging furniture, and planting things in the yard. He was dozing off by now, and was in the place between sleep and wakefulness. In his mind, Draco was leaned over next to him, dropping bulbs into the holes Harry had just dug in the ground. He was smiling, his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and his skin was pink and slightly sweaty. Harry watched as he absentmindedly licked his top lip as he waited for Harry to make the next hole. Harry watched as Draco reached over and brushed the fringe out of daydream Harry’s eyes with his fingertips. Harry then watched as his daydream self dropped the spade he had been digging with and pushed Draco onto his back on the soft earth and landed on top of him, hands firmly on his shoulders. In his daydream, Draco eagerly wrapped his legs around Harry’s and kissed him deeply.

Harry’s eyes sprung open. Thankfully, no one was looking at him as they were all staring intently into a scrying glass. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably, as his trousers seemed to have become a bit too tight.

“That must’ve been a good dream you were having,” Ron said to him with a snicker.

Harry adjusted his robes nervously. “Why do you say that?” he asked, trying not to sound too alarmed.

Ron just smirked at him. “The smile on your face, of course.”

Harry blushed and stood, once again arranging his robes. “I’m leaving a bit early. I need to talk to Draco.”

Ron only smirked at him again. “Yes, I’m sure you do,” he muttered as he watched him go.

The time for he and Draco’s two-week separation was approaching quickly, and Harry was having an extremely hard time being away from Draco at all. He had taken to leaving his classes early again in order to be waiting for Draco when he left his classes. No one really thought it odd anymore.

Today, he couldn’t wait. When he reached the door to Draco and Hermione’s Arithmancy class, he opened it and walked right in.

“Excuse me, Professor,” he interrupted. “I need to see Draco. Is it okay if he leaves a bit early today?” he asked politely.

If there was one good thing about being the hero of the wizarding world, it was that few people ever questioned you. The Professor shook his head and dismissed Draco, who had a slightly worried look on his face. As he got closer to Harry and could see the twinkle in his eyes, a slow grin spread across his face.

The two stepped outside the door and Harry pushed Draco back against the wall and kissed him hard and long. When he pulled away, both young men were breathless.

“Going for a quick study session in your dorm, is it?” Draco breathed. His eyes had turned the dark, smoky grey that Harry loved.

Harry kissed him again, and began fumbling with the zipper of Draco’s trousers. “Too far,” he growled into Draco’s mouth. He reached inside Draco’s boxers and took him in his fist.

Draco gasped. “Harry, oh yes- not here, Harry- oh love, that’s amazing- we’re in the middle of a main hallway-oh yes, don’t ever stop that,” he breathed as he involuntarily moved his hips in time with Harry’s hand.

Harry pressed against him and stared into his eyes. “You’re beautiful, Draco.” He kissed him again. “Can’t wait. Now,” was all he could manage to say before dropping his mouth to Draco’s neck.

Draco’s eyes rolled back in his head and his eyelashes fluttered. “Yes, yes, oh Merlin- but NOT HERE!” he said and made a valiant effort to pull himself away. Harry groaned and grabbed him again. Draco pointed to a deserted classroom across the hall. Harry breathlessly nodded, and the two moved towards the door, kissing and groping each other the whole time. Harry was on Draco so quickly once they entered the classroom that he barely had time to seal the door behind them.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^When the two exited the classroom, the other students were leaving lunch and heading off to their afternoon classes. The first person they bumped into was Colin Creevey, camera at the ready, as always. He had finally put his stalking skills to good use, and was making quite a bit of cash on the side taking candid photos of Harry and Draco, albeit not in the Gryffindor common room anymore.

Draco, feeling that it was fairly obvious what he and Harry had just been up to considering the state of their hair and robes, lunged for Colin’s camera. Colin was quick, however, and Draco just missed him.

“Creevey, you will pay for this!” Draco shouted at him as he ran down the corridor. Harry laughed beside him. “What? I’m tired of that little creep following us everywhere. It’s weird. And he always takes the worst photos of me,” Draco said.

Harry took his hand and they began walking towards Draco’s next class. “You’re the most vain person I have ever met. But I suppose you know this.”

Draco stuck his tongue out at him and frowned. “We’ve only got 9 more days together,” he said to Harry. “I’m excited about our ceremony, but I’m absolutely dreading the separation. Are you sure there’s no way around it?”

Harry sadly shook his head no. “If we don’t do it, the ceremony won’t count. Something about the magic not taking or something. At least you’ll still have classes to distract you. I’m going to be all alone at the Weasleys. This is going to be horrible,” he grumbled.

They had arrived at the door to Draco’s class. “You’re back late tonight, yes?”

Harry shook his head again, tugging at the front of Draco’s robes and looking at his feet. “Want to skip class?” he asked.

Draco stroked his cheek. “I can’t, love. We have all weekend together, and we’ll be all alone for a change. It’s only one more day til we leave for Scotland.”

Harry pouted until he saw that Draco was not going to change his mind, then kissed him bye. He watched him as he walked to his classroom, a gaggle of girls surrounding him at his workstation as he sat down. Harry decided that he, at least, would skip class, and went outside. He spent the next several hours by the lake, daydreaming idly until it was time for his lesson with Professor McGonagall.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Friday night finally arrived, and Harry and Draco were heading for the airport. They had decided to charter a flight with a Muggle pilot, as most wizards would not think to check Muggle transport for them. They were staying at a small inn in Montrose, and the Magpies had hired two look-alikes to stay at the usual compound where they housed their players in an attempt to give Harry and Draco some privacy. As no one appeared to be waiting at the airport for them, their plan seemed to be working so far.

Draco had never been on an airplane before, and found the whole thing rather fun. It was a small and very luxurious craft, and Draco amused himself by playing with the electronics, the seats and the food trays. He flirted horribly with the flight attendant and listened raptly to Muggle music. When the pilot asked the two boys what they did for a living, as it was a rather expensive flight for two so young, Draco deftly replied “I’m a Kevin Kleen model, and he’s my love slave.”

Harry rolled his eyes at Draco. “It’s Calvin Klein, love,” he said. The pilot just laughed and gave them a strange look, but he left the two alone from there on out.

They reached Montrose to find Mr. Hopewell waiting for them. He approached with his hand outstretched.

“Harry!” he said as he vigorously shook hands with him. He turned to Draco. “You must be Draco. So nice to finally meet you. We’ve certainly read a lot about you recently,” he teased. “Welcome to the Magpie family.”

“Thank you,” Draco said with a smile. He found Mr. Hopewell’s demeanor very amusing, he was so obviously kissing up to Harry.

“Well, I’ve arranged ground transportation for the two of you this weekend,” he said, indicating a black sedan. “So far, the decoys are drawing all the media attention, so you should have two fairly peaceful days. Do try to get the coast if you can, it is stunning. And if you need anything at all, do not hesitate to contact me. The inn you’re staying at has twenty-four hour owl service, and we’ve reserved one just for the two of you. Is there anything I can do for you now?”

“I’m a bit hungry. Does the place we’re staying have food?” Harry asked. Draco tsked at him under his breath, and Harry shot him a look.

Mr. Hopewell smiled. “I was hoping you’d be up for dinner. Why don’t you join me? I have reservations at a very nice restaurant that I’m sure would be happy to accommodate us.”

Harry looked to Draco, who nodded in agreement. They all settled into the car, which was very much like the one Draco had rented for the two of them over holiday, and sped off to the restaurant.

They were barely through their first courses when the media arrived and started taking photographs through the front window of the restaurant. The three of them ate quickly and left, going out the back door to avoid the crowd. Mr. Hopewell assured them that he would get the decoy Harry and Draco to lure the press away from the real couple. He gave them the car and bid them farewell as he waited for a cab to pick him up. As they passed the front of the restaurant, Harry noticed that several Montrose Magpie fans had also gathered, resplendid in their black and white, looking hopefully in the shaded car windows as they passed.

“Bloody sports star,” Draco teased him.

Just then, Harry saw a young girl with her hair bleached and straightened, very much like Draco’s. “Oh, I don’t think they’re all here to see me,” he said as he pointed to her.

Draco looked at the girl with a very bemused smirk. “Ah well, not everyone looks good as a blonde.” Harry swatted him playfully and the two made jokes about the incident all the way to their hotel.

At the inn, they were greeted like royalty, which Draco very much approved of, though it made Harry very uncomfortable. A few fans had followed the car there and were now trying vainly to get into the lobby for autographs. Harry and Draco could hear them calling their names as the elevator doors closed.

“This is too weird,” said Harry.

“Yes, it looks like our privacy is ruined for the weekend as well. Blimey,” Draco responded. The doors opened and the bellhop escorted them to their suite where a cozy fire and a chilled bottle of champagne greeted them. The Magpies had sent over a large basket of snacks, as well as a huge flower arrangement with a card that read, “Enjoy your visit, The Magpies”. Draco was, again, duly impressed.

“I think I’m going to enjoy being the husband of an international Quidditch star,” he said as he flopped on the bed, a piece of dark chocolate melting in his mouth.

Harry joined him. “If you’re the husband, what does that make me?” he teased.

“My love slave? You didn’t deny it on the airplane,” Draco responded.

Harry laughed heartily. “I am so your love slave, Draco Malfoy. Want champagne? I think there’s a whirlpool bath in there too,” Harry said looking towards the bathroom.

Draco stood and walked into the overlarge bathroom. “Yes, there is. You bring the bubbly, I’ll draw the bath, ” Draco said in a lofty voice.

Harry smiled wickedly. “This is going to be a fun weekend,” he muttered to himself.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

They met the real estate wizard early the next morning, and after she took them to breakfast, where they were once again discovered and mobbed, they made their way out to the old farmhouse in the ad.

Draco knew the instant Harry laid eyes on the place that the Gryffindor would be happy with nothing else. It had been a beautiful house once, even Draco could see that, but it had fallen into disrepair. It was in even worse shape than the ad said. It was a very old, sprawling Victorian style house with a large porch running around the entire outside of the home. The roof was bald in some places, and much of the gingerbread trim would have to be replaced. Several of the windows were cracked and broken. The surrounding forest and the lake were beautiful though, and it was very convenient to where Harry would be practicing. Harry looked ecstatic as they exited the car, Draco trailing behind him with a questioning look on his face.

“Love, I don’t know. It’s needs a lot of work,” he said to Harry as the woman opened the door for them. It creaked loudly and little puffs of dust stirred in the air. Draco scrunched up his nose.

Harry kneeled down and wiped away the layer of grime that had settled on the floor. “It’s just needs cleaning up a bit. Look, its got nice floors,” he said as he uncovered gleaming dark hardwoods with his hand. He stood again and went into the kitchen. “This needs updating,” he called to Draco, who had now followed him in the room.

He scrunched up his nose again at the horribly out of date kitchen. “I’ll say,” he replied. He couldn’t help but smile as Harry ran his hand over the tile counter tops. He followed him silently as they went from room to room, watching as Harry fell more and more in love with the house.

Draco actually liked it too, though he’d never admit it. It seemed very cozy, even empty, and it was far away from the rest of the world. It would be a nice haven for both of them once they got it fixed up.

Upstairs, they had come to the master bedroom, which was walled with windows and had a breathtaking view of the lake.

Harry turned to Draco expectantly. “We could make this place so cool. We could paint, and redo the floors. I’d love to put a garden down there so we could see it from these windows…” he trailed off as he looked out the window.

Draco motioned for the real estate wizard to follow him. “I’m going to look at the other bedrooms, Harry. Come along when you’re ready,” he said to his boyfriend, who was now looking around the adjoining master bath.

Once in the hallway, Draco leaned conspiratorially to the agent’s ear. “How much do they want for this dump?” he whispered.

“They’re asking $250,000 galleons, but I could probably talk them down a bit. There is a lot of land, though.”

Draco shook his head. “Never mind, it’d take too long. Here’s my attorney’s card. Get in touch with him and make the arrangements. Potter there looks like he’s fallen in love with the place,” he said with a smile.

Soon Harry joined them in the hall. “What’s up?” he asked.

Draco took his hand. “Nothing, we were just talking about all the work this place needs,” he said.

Harry took his hand and gave him a pleading look. “It wouldn’t be that much, Draco. I know how to do a lot of house stuff from living with the Dursleys. You wouldn’t have to help if you didn’t want to, I like doing this kind of thing. Really, I could make it nice. Even you would like it. Please?” he begged, green eyes growing wide.

“Oh, Harry, really. Stop it. I just bought the bloody place. Stop begging. And we’ll hire people to work on it. I imagine you’re going to have enough to do without having to fix this place up. And I’m certainly not moving in until it’s livable anyway.” He turned to the agent, who looked as if she’d just won the lottery. “Can you arrange for some builders and decorators as well?” She assured him she could. “Lovely. They need to get started right away. Harry’s training starts in late June, and we’ll need to move in by then.”

Harry felt like the grin he was wearing was going to split his face in two. He couldn’t believe he had his own house. Grimmauld had been the Black’s home, and even Sirius had hated its dark and dusty interior. But this place was all his and Draco’s. He’d never really given any thought to having his own place before, as he’d lived in other people’s homes his whole life, but he couldn’t wait to get the place in shape and have everyone over. He looked around again, already formulating plans about how he wanted things to look.

Harry turned to Draco. “Can I do whatever I want?”

Draco smiled indulgently. “As long as you don’t decorate it in Gryffindor colors, yes. Now come on. I want to go to the coast before it gets too late.”

Harry followed him out, still blown away by the whole idea. He squeezed Draco’s hand.
This is really, really real. He and I are going to live here. It’s our house. He smiled at this thought, then something happened that made his stomach lurch and he stopped in his tracks.

Harry’s hand flew to his forehead. His scar had flared in pain for only a second, but it was a second he couldn’t ignore.

Draco looked at him concerned, then realization dawned on his face. “Oh no, Harry. Not your scar. Not now.”

Harry smiled weakly. “Probably just left over from the incident over the holiday,” he said, but neither boy was convinced.

“Do you want to go back home so you can tell Dumbledore?” Draco asked him. The real estate wizard was looking around nervously.

“No, Draco, it’s fine now. Probably just some weird coincidence or something. I’m not worried about it. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our time here. Let’s go to the coast. I’ve never seen the ocean before,” Harry said as he got into the car.

Draco followed him, brow furrowed in worry.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The two spent the rest of the afternoon at Lunan Bay holding hands and walking along the beach. The coastline was wild and Harry fell in love with the ocean and its strong currents raging like a tempest. They got all of their plans for their two-week separation in order as they chatted and looked out at the ocean. It was decided that Harry would take care of everything having to do with the new house, as he would be alone with little distraction, and that Draco would see to the last minute details of the ceremony. As they prepared to leave, they noticed a storm brewing off shore. Draco took it as a bad omen and was silent and distracted on the way back to the inn, no matter how many times Harry tried to draw him into conversation.

Draco was terrified. He’d spent the last five years hearing rumors about Harry’s ability to detect the Dark Lord through the scar on his forehead, and Hermione had been more than forthcoming with the details of Harry’s nightmares and headaches that occurred when the Dark Lord was around. But this was the first time he had actually seen it. All the things he knew about the Dark Lord, the discussions he and Harry had had about the inevitable dual between he and Voldemort, the possibility that Harry might actually die, and Snape’s certainty that Harry would die came rushing back to Draco and were weighing so heavily on him that he felt like he was suffocating. He sat next to Harry, staring at him and playing with the ring on his left finger.

“Draco, what is wrong with you love? You’ve been acting weird ever since we left the house,” Harry asked gently as he took Draco’s hand.

“A boy who is already dead…”, Snape’s voice rang in Draco’s mind. He squeezed Harry’s hand. “You’re not going to die, are you?” he asked him quietly.

To his disbelief, Harry laughed out loud. “Draco, it was a pain in my head. If Voldemort was anywhere near, I’d be writhing on the floor and puking. It’s fine. Really.”

Draco grew angry. “Don’t laugh! Why can’t you take this seriously? He could kill you! What if something goes wrong and he does? What if your protection only allows you a certain number of times that you can throw off curses and you’re wasting them with all your bloody lessons? Go back to the Dursleys, for Merlin’s sake! Stop being so bloody selfish. Both of our lives depend on this now, you know!”

Harry looked as if Draco had stricken him. He pulled his hand away and turned to look out the window. Draco felt awful at once. He had really wanted to pull Harry to him and never let him go, he only really wanted someone, anyone to tell him for certain that Harry was going to be all right and that he’d never have to spend one second without him ever again. But in typical Malfoy fashion, he had acted like a spoiled brat and things had come out all wrong. Harry was the least selfish person he had ever known, so much so that Draco personally found it a bit disconcerting. He had just gotten so used to Harry being able to make everything okay for him, that when Harry had laughed and made a joke about something that scared Draco so much, it had completely unhinged him. The fact that Harry was unafraid of what lay ahead was more than Draco could get his mind around, considering how much it frightened him.

He reached out and put his hand on Harry’s back. Harry flinched. “Love, I am so sorry. I’ve just never had to really deal with all this before. Not really, it’s all been talk and conjecture. It fucking scares me. I’m so sorry I said that.”

Harry still had his back to him and wouldn’t turn around. Draco sat and stared desperately at the back of his shaggy black head. He leaned over and put his head against Harry’s back, just waiting. At long last, he felt Harry’s hand press against his thigh and then move away. He looked down, and Harry’s ring was lying on his leg. He picked it up and held it out in front of him.

“What is this?” he whispered.

“Just take it Draco. I’m calling the whole thing off. You’re right, I have been selfish. It was wrong of me to drag you into this. I only asked you to bond with me because I was afraid I’d die and never have had anyone. I should have thought about the fact that you haven’t been really living with this whole destiny, Voldemort bullshit for as long as me, Ron and Hermione have. I should’ve realized that you had no idea what you were truly agreeing to by accepting that proposal from me. So you’re free. Maybe after it’s all over, we can work something out.”

Draco wrapped his arms around his middle. He felt like he was going to hyperventilate. He had never heard Harry’s voice sound so cold as it just had. He wouldn’t have believed he was capable of it.

“Harry, you can’t do this to me. You can’t. I know what I agreed to. I know I haven’t been there for you like Ron and Hermione have, but I want to be there now.” Tears were falling down his cheeks. “Please, Harry, don’t do this. You’re all I have.” Harry still had his back to him, but Draco reached around, palm outstretched with the ring glistening up at Harry.

They pulled up to the inn and were still sitting in the same position when the driver came around and opened Harry’s door. He got out without looking back at Draco and without saying a word. Draco closed his hand around the ring and got out of the car. Ahead of him, Harry was already going through the doors of the inn. He ran to catch up with him, vaguely aware that cameras were flashing all around him and people were calling his name.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry was walking as fast as he could without breaking into a run. He reached the elevator, and fortunately, it was waiting for him and he stepped on and punched the button for his floor violently. He could see Draco running into the inn as the doors closed in front of him. As soon as they did, he slumped back against the wall and covered his face with his hands.

He was horrified by what Draco had said to him. How could he have been so stupid to put the one person he loved more than anything in such danger? The fact that he might die didn’t really bother him anymore, but the fact that Draco might die, too, had just become real to him in a way that it never had before. He ran his hands through his hair and stepped out of the elevator. Snape had been right about him all along—he was endlessly selfish and stupid. He had not learned anything from Sirius’ death after all. But he had now. He was going to go to their room, pack his things and get the Knight Bus back to London. Then he was going to find Voldemort and end this. If he lived, he would try to find Draco and fix things between them after it was all over.

He was shoving his clothes into one of the bags Draco had gotten him for Christmas when the blonde entered the room, red faced and angry. He threw Harry’s ring at him.
“Put that back on!” he demanded. Harry just continued to pack silently.

Draco marched over and picked the ring up. He grabbed Harry and forced it into his hand. “Put it on!” he yelled. Harry shook his head no and put the ring down on the table where he was packing. Draco pushed him and he tripped and fell.

“Where do you think you’re going, Harry? You’re just going to run out on me too? Just leave me behind and run off and get yourself killed? I can help you! When we bond, you’ll have even more protection against him, Harry, why are you doing this?”

Harry stood up and glared at Draco. “Because what you said in the car was right. I could die, and if I do, you will too. I only want to keep you safe, and the only way to do that is to stay as far away from you as possible. This has all been some stupid romantic lie, Draco, and I’m sorry I got you involved.” The look on Draco’s face at his words was more than he could bear. He grabbed his bag and went for the door.

“Stupefy!” He heard Draco yell behind him. Instinctively, he braced himself for the spell. It hit him and he absorbed it rather than rebound it back at Draco. He turned and looked at him. “Love, please. I’ve been able to do that one for months now.”

Draco did not know what to do. Harry was leaving him. His knees gave out and he sat down hard on the floor.

“Just go, Harry. I knew this would happen one day anyway. You’re right, it has been a lie. I knew things were too good to be true. Just go.” Draco sounded utterly, horribly defeated. Tears were streaming down his face and his body was shaking in his creepy, silent sobs.

Harry stood and looked at him, his emotions battling. Part of him wanted to run away and do as he planned so that nothing could hurt Draco. But he was hurting Draco now, and part of him wanted to stay and make it better. He stood, stuck between the two, staring at Draco’s crying form. He watched as Draco doubled over and a terrible mewling sound escaped his lips. He dropped his bag and went to him and pulled him in his arms.

“Draco, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, so sorry. Stop, I’m not going anywhere. Please stop,” he said as he stroked Draco’s hair. Draco clung to him for dear life.

The two of them sat this way on the floor of their room for a long, long time. It was Draco who broke the silence.

“Can we do it sooner?” he asked quietly. “In case he does come back?”

Harry blinked. “What? The ceremony?”

Draco nodded.

“You still want to?” Harry asked him.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Of course. That way you can’t ever pull that shit on me again. Trying to leave me. Honestly.” He voice was still trembling.

Harry buried his face in Draco’s hair. “I will never leave you.” He heaved a great sigh of relief and looked into Draco’s eyes. “What got into us today?”

Draco smiled. “I think we both had the piss scared out of us by your ickle scar,” he teased as he ran a finger over Harry’s forehead.

Harry kissed him gently. “Yeah. I guess I forgot how fucked up my situation was since good old Voldie has sort of left me alone this year. Ah well. We all got to die sometimes. Help me find my ring?”

Draco pointed. “You left it on the table over there.” He watched as Harry stood and retrieved his ring. “Can we do it sooner?” he asked again.

Harry slid his ring back on his finger. “No. The two week thing is unavoidable.” Draco was standing too, and Harry grabbed him and pulled him onto the bed.

“Then we start it tomorrow. I’ll take care of making the changes about the ceremony. But when we leave here, you go to the Weasleys, I go to Hogwarts. And I don’t want to see you again until we make it official,” Draco said firmly.

Harry had begun running his hands over Draco’s body and kissing his neck hungrily. “Can we talk about this later?” he breathed in Draco’s ear.

Draco grabbed both of Harry’s hands. “No, we can’t. It’s only a week, I know, but it would make me feel better. Now, promise.”

Harry groaned and tried to kiss him. Draco turned his head away. “Harry, promise me.”

“Draco, I need to warn the Weasleys I’m coming a week early, and we need to make sure Dumbledore’s available and that everything can be moved up. It’s only a week, love, let’s just leave it.”

Draco looked at him intently. “No, Harry, I won’t leave it. Everything can be moved up. The Weasleys don’t need a warning, you prat, you’re their son, they’ll be happy to see you whenever you arrive. It’s settled, and I don’t want to hear another word.” He let go of Harry’s hands. “Now, do continue. This is our last night together for two weeks, after all.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Harry awoke the next morning to find himself alone. He grabbed his glasses and sat up, looking around the room. Surely Draco had not been serious about starting their separation today. “Draco?” he called. His voice echoed back at him. He turned to his right and saw a note lying on Draco’s pillow.

Harry,
If you show up at Hogwarts later, I swear, I will kill you. I owled the Weasleys before I left so they know you’re coming today, you prat. No excuses.

Last night was wonderful—maybe we should break up more often? NO! I’m only joking. I’ve decided that if you ever do that again, I really will kill you. Oh wait, I won’t have to because our bonding will do it for me! Another reason to move it up.

I know we can’t communicate at all over the next 2 weeks (I hope this doesn’t count!) but you looked so peaceful sleeping I couldn’t bear to wake you. Plus, I know you fight dirty and probably wouldn’t have let me leave, so I snuck out. Just know that I will be counting the days until I see you again. I miss you already, and I’m not even gone.

Ugh, that’s enough. You’ve turned me into such a sap. Really, who knew good head could have such a devastating effect on one’s psyche?

I love you Potter, Scarhead, Harry,

Draco

Harry smiled and kissed the note. He held it next to his heart, hoping that it would fill some of the emptiness he felt there now that Draco was gone. It didn’t. He sighed heavily and got up from the bed. “The Burrow, here I come,” he said sadly to the empty room. He missed Draco already. It was going to be a long two weeks.

Chapter Text

Harry left the inn and stopped by the Magpies office to thank them for their hospitality over the weekend. While he was there, he met the look-alikes that had been hired to distract the press. It was a very weird moment for him indeed, as the two young men did look an awful lot like he and Draco. Mr. Hopewell made arrangements for Harry and the Weasleys to return the following week to check on the house and to stop by and watch a practice and meet his new teammates. Once everything was settled, Harry Apparated to the Burrow.

He was greeted with hugs, kisses and a huge mug of hot cocoa. Mr. Weasley was already gone to work, so it was just he and Mrs. Weasley for the day. She chatted incessantly to him about various things trying to keep his mind off Draco. Harry helped her clean the kitchen, and then the two moved outside to work in the yard.

The two of them were working in the garden when the afternoon edition of The Daily Prophet arrived. Harry watched as Mrs. Weasley scanned the front page and her face fell. She quickly folded the paper and tucked it under her arm. She glanced at Harry and starting moving stealthy towards the house.

Harry emerged from the garden. “What’ve you got there, Mum Weasley?” he asked her. It was all too clear that she was trying to hide the paper from him.

She smiled brightly. “Nothing love! Just the paper! Same old rubbish, just going to throw it in the bin!” she said as she waved it in front of her.

Harry smirked at her as he walked forward, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Just let me see it. I know they’ve written something about us. Maybe there’s a picture of him I can keep…” he trailed off as he stuck out his hand. Reluctantly, Mrs. Weasley handed it over.

IS IT OVER? Potter and Malfoy’s Romantic Weekend Falls Apart

The headline roared. Harry looked at the picture of him leaving the car with Draco running behind him into the inn in Montrose. He smiled as Draco flipped off the photographers. He began scanning the article. It was the usual nonsense, except they did notice that only Draco had returned to Hogwarts. They didn’t seem to know where Harry was yet. He sighed and handed the paper back to Mrs. Weasley. He didn’t want the picture of he and Draco fighting. “Like you said, same old rubbish,” he said as he walked back to the garden and began attending his row of peas again.

Mrs. Weasley looked at the photograph then back at Harry. “Is everything all right with the two of you? You both look pretty upset here,” she asked cautiously.

Harry smiled at her over his shoulder. “Yeah, everything is fine. Just had a row. Can you come with me next week to Montrose? I need help with our house.”

Mrs. Weasley lifted the bin lid and threw the paper in. “Of course, love,” she answered and hunched down next to Harry to pick peas.

It was later in the evening and she and Harry were making dinner. Mrs. Weasley looked sweetly at Harry and stroked his face. “You’re going to spoil me, Harry. I’m not used to all this help,” she said. His eyes looked very sad to her.

“I don’t mind. I like working outside and cooking. Good thing too, cause I doubt Draco will ever lift a finger,” he said affectionately. He sighed heavily.

“These two weeks will go by before you know it, love,” she told him. Harry only smiled wanly. It was clear he didn’t believe her.

As they continued to work in comfortable silence, Hedwig flew in through the open front door. She was carrying three letters for Harry: a rather thick one from Hermione, one from Ron, and one from Dumbledore. Harry opened the one from Ron first. As usual, it was short and to the point.

Harry,

Your boyfriend is already getting on my nerves with his whining. Are you sure there’s no way around this separation thing? I had to confiscate that mirror you got him for his birthday to keep him from trying to contact you. He is a prat, Harry. I never thought you’d have such horrible taste. What would have been wrong with Ginny?

Don’t worry about Quidditch. I’ve taken over practices until you return, and it’s Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw next game. We don’t play again until after spring holiday. Hope you play as well once you’re a married man, ha ha!

Tell mum and dad hi!

Ron

Harry smiled. “Ron says hi,” he said to Mrs. Weasley. He moved on to Hermione’s letter. He grinned weakly as several photos of he and Draco fell into his lap. “Hermione, I love you,” he said to himself. He started to scan her letter and groaned. “Draco Malfoy, you have a big mouth,” he muttered.

“What dear?” asked Mrs. Weasley.

“Nothing,” Harry answered, then read Hermione’s letter.

Dear Harry,

I miss you already! Draco says you two had a nice time in Montrose, except for a big fight, and that you found a house. Congratulations! I can’t wait to see it.
He also said your scar was hurting you again. You are planning on telling Dumbledore, right? I guess we should have expected this, as it has been a quiet year. But please, tell Dumbledore!

I’ve enclosed some photos of you and Draco, and I am going to send some of your clothes to you, if I can get Draco to part with any of them. I think you may have to buy yourself some new pajamas for the next two weeks-Draco has vowed to sleep in yours every night until he sees you again.

If you have any more problems with your scar, tell Dumbledore immediately! The Weasleys too. I’m sure it would help the Order to know you’re receiving signals again.

Can’t wait to see you again!

Love,
Hermione

Harry sighed and picked up the letter from Dumbledore. He had the sneaking suspicion that he didn’t need to tell the Headmaster about his scar.

Dear Harry,

Draco arrived early this morning and told me about the brief pain in your scar that you had while vacationing in Montrose. Do keep me up to date if this occurs again, or if you start having nightmares again. Voldemort is on the move, so anything unusual may have significance.

Also, don’t worry about moving your ceremony up a week. I assure you all the arrangements will be made. Draco and I have discussed it at length, and it will all be taken care of. You should be getting your ceremonial robe sometime next week.

Congratulations on the purchase of your first home together. I am sure it is lovely, despite the disparaging things Draco has said. He seems rather excited about it, although he is trying hard to hide it. I am a bit nervous as to how he is going to handle your separation. He’s been a bit emotional already, and it is not even the end of the first day.

Again, congratulations. This must be a very exciting time for you. But please, do not neglect to tell me if you experience anything unusual, no matter how trivial it may seem to you. I look forward to seeing you on your bonding day.

Love,
Albus Dumbledore

Harry sighed heavily and picked up one of the pictures Hermione had sent. It was of he and Draco at Draco’s birthday party. He watched as the two of them laughed and kissed. He sighed again and picked up another one. It was the two of them by the lake, walking and holding hands. He had never seen this one before and flipped it over to read the inscription “H&D finally together, 10/07” in Hermione’s hand. He smiled and moved on to the next photo.

Mrs. Weasley walked over and looked over Harry’s shoulder. She picked up the photo of the two of them by the lake. “The two of you do make a lovely couple,” she said.

Harry smiled and touched Draco’s face in the picture he was holding. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he said, voice trembling slightly. “I miss him already.”

Mrs. Weasley put her arms around him and kissed his head. “It’ll be over before you know it, promise.”

“Hello! I’m home!” It was Mr. Weasley, returning from work. He and Harry hugged and the three of them settled in for dinner.

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Harry didn’t realize how badly he missed Draco until he went to bed that night. Out of habit, he scooted over to the left side of the bed. A bed had never seemed so big to him. He put a hand on the pillow next to him and sighed. He flopped around for several minutes, trying to get comfortable. Nothing worked. He took the pillow that would have been Draco’s and clutched it to his chest. “Dammit, I can do this. It’s two bloody weeks. I’m not going to die,” he said to the empty room as he flopped over on his back and picked up one of the photos Hermione had sent him off his nightstand. It was the one of he and Draco kissing at Draco’s birthday party. Harry stared at it for a moment and closed his eyes, imagining the pillow against his chest was Draco. A vision of Draco returning from shopping at Christmas filled Harry’s mind. Draco was wearing his black turtleneck again, his hair pulled back and his cheeks slightly colored from the cold. He called Harry’s name, then came into the drawing room where Harry was waiting for him on the couch. They didn’t even speak to each other, just locked each other in a hungry stare and immediately began kissing, Draco lying on top of Harry.

One of Harry’s hands reached underneath the pillow he was holding and he gasped. In his mind, Draco reached down Harry’s trousers and muttered “I missed you” against his lips before kissing him again.

The real Harry moaned softly. The ghoul in the attic moaned back. Harry smiled briefly at this, but then his dream Draco was doing things to him, and for Harry, the Burrow no longer existed. He was with Draco in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, and it was Draco’s hand touching him, making him moan and whimper.

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In Gryffindor Tower, Draco was lying in Harry’s bed, staring at the canopy above him where the Gryffindor lion was sleeping peacefully. He was wearing Harry’s flannel pajamas, and though he’d never admit it to anyone, he was hugging the stuffed dragon Harry bought him for his birthday. His chest actually hurt with longing from missing Harry. It hadn’t been too bad during the day, but now, alone in their huge bed, he felt like he was missing a limb.

“Weasley?” he said into the dark.

“Wha?” Ron muttered sleepily.

“What do you think Harry’s doing right now?” Draco whispered theatrically.

Ron was silent for a moment. “Draco, how should I know? Probably wanking off to some dirty image of you. Honestly, go to sleep.”

“You are a mean person, Ronald Weasley,” Draco said petulantly. But Ron had helped him a bit. He suddenly couldn’t get the image of Harry wanking out of his mind. Moving his dragon carefully aside, he took his wand and cast a silencing spell around him. Minutes later, Harry wasn’t the only one moaning in the dark.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

The week passed unbelievably slowly. Harry could not believe it had only been five days since he’d last seen or spoken to Draco. He was miserable. He couldn’t eat half the time, no matter what Mrs. Weasley made for him. He had tried to take his mind off things by flying or helping Mrs. Weasley around the house, but not even those things were working anymore. He was sitting alone in his room, staring blankly at the wall, when Mrs. Weasley lightly rapped on the door.

“Yes?” he said woodenly.

Mrs. Weasley pushed the door open a bit. “Harry, are you okay?”

“No,” he replied.

She entered the room and sat on the bed next to him. “Love, you’ve only got another week, then you’ll be together for the rest of your lives. And look, there’s another picture of him in today’s paper.”

Harry had started a small collection of newspaper photos of Draco, who didn’t look like he was fairing any better than Harry. He looked thin and drawn and Hermione and Ron were at his side in every photo. Some papers were trying to make out that he and Hermione were having an affair and that’s why Harry had disappeared. Other, more respectable papers realized the situation for what it was and had started printing false reports about their bonding again, but some of them were frighteningly correct with their information. Harry hoped that Draco and Dumbledore were making necessary arrangements to keep the media away. He didn’t want their ceremony turning into a circus.

He took the newspaper from Mrs. Weasley, and a smile washed over his face. Draco was pointing his wand directly at the photographer and advancing menacingly. He scanned the article to find that Draco had actually gone so far as to hex the photographer, none other than his fellow Gryffindor, Colin Creevey. According to the article, Draco had lost his Prefect’s badge, though Harry had had no mention of it in any of the letters he received from Hermione or Ron. He took his scissors and cut the photo out, adding it to the ones already littering his nightstand.

Mrs. Weasley took his hand. “Are you ready for our trip tomorrow?” she asked him. He nodded. “You must be excited to see how your house is coming, and to meet with the decorators to get it in order. I know I can’t wait to see it!” She was trying to cheer him up, but he only continued to stare. “And what about meeting your teammates? We’ll have such fun, Harry!”

Harry smiled at her and squeezed her hand. They were going to Montrose for four days and he was hoping to be so busy he wouldn’t have time to sit and brood over Draco. “You’re right. I’m sorry I’m being such a dolt. Do you need help with anything?” he asked desperately.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head. Harry had helped her clean the house already and all her outdoors chores were caught up as well now, as he had been so industrious. “No, love. The house is shipshape. Why don’t you go to sleep? We’ve got to get up early tomorrow.” Harry nodded again, and she kissed him goodnight. Harry took the new picture of Draco off his nightstand and lay down on his back, staring at it until he fell asleep with it pressed to his chest.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Draco and Ron were playing chess, and Draco, who was usually a very good match for Ron, was losing badly.

“Draco, it’s your turn,” Ron nudged him.

“Leave me alone, Weasley!” he snapped and moved a knight recklessly and without thought.

Ron sighed and pushed all the pieces to the center of the board. “Let’s just call it off, okay? You’re not really playing anyway.”

Draco was pouting yet again. “I miss Harry,” he whined.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Yes, Draco, I know. I miss him too. You’ve only got another week.”

Draco continued to pout. “What do you know? You still get to snuggle up to Granger every night, while I have to sleep all alone in that huge fucking bed. Why do they make the beds so big at this school? Aren’t we supposed to be sleeping alone in them? There’s enough room for three adults in one of those things.”

Ron snickered. He had peeked in on Draco this morning and seen the head of his stuffed dragon sticking out from underneath the covers, so he knew Draco wasn’t sleeping totally alone.

“What?” Draco demanded.

“Nothing, Draco, nothing. Aren’t you and Dumbledore going to the Manor tomorrow to check on everything? That ought to be exciting, to see how your ceremony plans are coming. And we’ll actually see Harry in Montrose this weekend when we go to meet the team,” Ron and Hermione were going to Montrose to surprise Harry, who Mrs. Weasley was very worried about. “Plus, we’ll get to see how your house is coming and tell you all about it.”

If Ron had been trying to cheer Draco, he had done the exact opposite. “Oh rub it in why don’t you?” he yelled. “You’ll all be having bloody fun while I am all alone! And you get to see Harry!” He roared in frustration. “I hate this!!! I cannot wait another nine days to see him again. Give me my mirror back, Weasley. I want to talk to him. Now.”

Ron shook his head wearily. “Draco, we went through this yesterday. I will not let you ruin this. If I did, you’d never forgive me, and neither would Harry. Just suck it up, mate.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “This is stupid. There’s no logical reason we should be apart. Maybe Hermione found something in the library today,” he added hopefully.

Draco had Hermione scowering the library for possible ways around the two-week separation, and while she had already checked every available book on the subject and had found none, she did not dare tell him that. Every night after dinner she went to the library for an hour or so, then came back to the common room to let Draco down easily. Both she and Ron were looking forward to a little break from the blonde.

Just then, she came through the portrait hole. Draco looked up at her expectantly.

“Well?” he said.

She just shook her head.

“Dammit!” he cried and stood, knocking Ron’s battered chess set on the floor. “I’m going for a walk!” he yelled and stormed out of the room.

Hermione came over and began helping Ron collect his pieces. “Hermione,” he said gently, “If this separation from Harry doesn’t kill him, I may. God, he is unbearable.”

Hermione kissed his cheek. “He’s just missing Harry, love. It’ll be over soon.”

Ron thrust his chess pieces back into their bag. “Merlin I hope so.”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Harry and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley all Apparated to the Magpies office late the next morning. Harry’s eyes grew comically wide when he saw Ron and Hermione were already there.

“What are you doing here?” he cried as they surrounded him in a hug. He wrapped his arms back around them tightly.

They all pulled back and grinned at each other. “I need to meet the mates, too you know. Plus, we had to get away from that whiny bloody boyfriend of yours. He’s driving us mental,” Ron said. Hermione squeezed his hand painfully and glared at him. “Ow,” he said to her, eyes starting to water.

Worry clouded Harry’s eyes. “Is he okay?” he asked.

Hermione smiled at him. “He’s fine, Harry, just a bit grumpy. He misses you. He’s at the Manor this weekend with Dumbledore to get everything in place for next weekend. Can you believe it’s that soon already? Only eight more days! You’ll leave here, then it’ll only be four more. It’s going really quickly, huh?”

Harry shook his head seriously. “No, Hermione, it’s not. It’s bloody torture. Anyway, it’s good to see the two of you.”

Everyone chatted until Mr. Hopewell came in the office and escorted them all to the car that would drive them to the practice field.

The stadium they would be playing in was huge, almost twice the size of the one at Hogwarts. Harry beamed despite the fact that he was so depressed. He began to feel like this trip was a good idea after all. Mr. Hopewell got one of the team attendants to show Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Hermione to one of the player’s boxes to watch the practice, and took Ron and Harry to the locker room. Both boys were very nervous.

They entered the room and Mr. Hopewell introduced them to the other players. They were younger than everyone else by several years, Harry noticed. Everyone seemed very welcoming, and Harry was given the once over by more than one player. There were a lot of expectations riding with him, and the team made sure he knew it.

“Why don’t you suit up and play with us today?” a huge man name McConnell, a beater, asked him. “We promise to take it easy on you laddie,” he continued while the rest of the team laughed good-naturedly.

“Oh, no, I don’t think so, not today fellows,” Mr. Hopewell said. But Harry’s eyes were gleaming. He was a good Quidditch player and he knew it and found, to his surprise, that he was a bit eager to prove it to his new teammates.

“Actually, no, I’d love to play today, Mr. Hopewell. I don’t have my broom, but if you’d loan me one…” he trailed off, looking McConnell in the eye. “And you don’t have to take it easy on me,” he said easily. “I’d like to see what level I’m expected to be at.”

McConnell did not miss the challenge in Harry’s voice, nor did the rest of the team. The burly Beater smiled back at Harry. “Yeah, Hopewell, suit him up. You need to make sure his practice uniform fits anyway,” he said. The team roared with laughter.

Mr. Hopewell looked at Harry worriedly. “Are you sure, Harry? You don’t have to. I know you didn’t come prepared.”

The smirk Harry shot at McConnell would have made Draco proud. “No, I want to, really. I’m always on for a bit of Quidditch,” he said turning to Mr. Hopewell.

“Well, come this way then. We’ll get your uniform and a broom for you,” he said as he shot an angry glare at McConnell. The team roared again.

Harry and Ron nearly fainted when they saw the team’s equipment room. Rows upon rows of brand new Firebolts were hanging on racks on the walls. There were aisles of uniforms and pads. There were two cabinets of Quaffles and Bludgers. Harry guessed that the locked panel that was part of one wall held the Snitches.

He quickly picked out a broom and the equipment manager located one of his practice uniforms for him. Harry was in awe of the jersey with his name on the back and the number 31 underneath and was grinning broadly. He continued to grin as the manager found pads that fit him exactly and strapped them on him. After adding his cloak, he exited into the stadium, bidding Ron and Mr. Hopewell good-bye. He watched as they made their way to the player’s box to join the others.

The team was already warming up when Harry took the field. He watched briefly before he mounted his broom and joined them in the air. The Firebolt was a newer model than his, and he noticed the slight improvements at once, though he thought he’d never part with his broom for sentimental reasons. He did a quick lap around the stadium before Coach Witt flew to meet him.

“Hiya Potter,” he said, excitement written all over his face. “The boys are going to try and break you in a bit, so all I ask is don’t get injured. They can be a bit rough,” he warned. “You’ll be battling one of our farm boys, quite good actually, who is training for second string Seeker. We don’t expect you to beat him today, he’s been with the team a few months now. Just do your best, and don’t get hurt!” the coach yelled as he flew off. “Take your positions!” he yelled to the team.

Harry took his usual position above the other players as he usually did while searching for the Snitch. He was momentarily distracted as another player with longish, white blonde hair flew towards him. Harry blinked; for a moment the young man had looked remarkably like Draco. As he approached, Harry could see that he, in fact, he did not resemble Draco at all. His complexion was ruddier and his hair was clearly bleached. It was his opponent Seeker shadowing him. Grinning wickedly, Harry spiraled into a spectacular dive, leaving him in the dust. In that second, all his instincts and skills refocused, and he was on his game.

Harry played with the team for about an hour. He had easily missed the Bludgers sent his way by McConnell and his fellow Beater, Diver, much to their frustration. Other team members began catcalling them for their inability to hit him. Even when they redoubled their efforts, they were no match for Harry. And they certainly didn’t stop him from catching the Snitch, not once, but three separate times. After the third catch, which was an amazingly close call between Harry and a goal post, no one was smirking at Harry anymore.

Coach Witt blew his whistle and motioned everyone to the ground, grinning broadly. He dismounted and walked over to Harry and clapped him hard on the back. The other players began to applaud, and McConnell came forward and shook his hand. “Haven’t seen flying like that in a long, long time, Potter. Welcome to the team,” the burly man said.

Harry just grinned and shook his head. “Thanks,” he said to them all. He looked to Coach Witt. “Is it okay if I go join my family now?” he asked.

Coach Witt smiled at him indulgently. “Yes, Potter, of course. Glad you came out today. I think I speak for all when I say we look forward to working with you.”

“Hear, hear,” a few members of the team shouted. Harry blushed crimson and waved to them all as he left the field. It was the first time he’d felt happy since the night he and Draco parted.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Dumbledore watched as Draco pushed his food around his plate, but ate next to nothing.

“Draco, you must eat. You’re already quite thin. If I return you to Harry anymore so, he’s going to accuse me of abuse,” he said kindly.

Draco sighed. “I know. I’m just not hungry. Are you sure this is necessary?” he asked irritably. Draco was not used to not getting his way and it was next to impossible for him to believe there was no way around the separation.

“Draco, it’s almost over. You’re half way there. And just think of how beautiful the ceremony will be. We’re done with the arrangements, you know. The next time you see Harry, it will be forever.”

Draco sighed again and pushed his plate away. It was true, the ceremony was going to be gorgeous. The garden was in full bloom, and the bonding coordinators had arrived today and put the decorations in place, leaving only the last minute details for the following weekend. All the invitations had been charmed so that they could not be faked, and security wizards had been hired to protect the Manor from being infiltrated by the press. Everything truly was in place. He would be leaving school on Thursday to spend his last two nights as a single man at the Manor before the ceremony took place on Saturday, then he and Harry were going to France for two weeks. All he had to do now was wait.

Draco leaned back and put his hands behind his head. “I hate waiting,” he grumbled.

Chapter Text

It was Friday night at the Burrow, and Harry was just getting out of the shower and getting ready for dinner. Mrs. Weasley had gone to the nursery and bought some plants for Harry so he would have something to do that day, since she knew from experience that the last day before your bonding ceremony was the worst. He had been outside all day planting beds of flowers and was starving. He had not really eaten in days, but the anticipation of seeing Draco tomorrow coupled with all the manual labor had left him ravenous.

The house seemed oddly quiet to him, so he tramped down the stairs towards the kitchen, towel drying his hair along the way. He was surprised to see that the house seemed empty and dark. “Hello?” he called as he continued towards the dining room. As he turned the corner into the dining room, the light came on and all the Weasleys (except Percy, of course), Hermione, and Remus Lupin were standing in front of him. “Surprise!” they cried and laughed at the shocked look on his face. Hermione ran forward and embraced a shirtless Harry and planted a firm kiss on his lips. “We’re here to throw you a bachelor party!” she said to him.

He was grinning from ear to ear. “I can’t believe you’re all here!” A cloud seemed to pass over his eyes for a moment. “I feel sorry for Draco, though, he must be all alone.”

Ron snorted. “Don’t feel too bad for him, mate. Dumbledore’s with him tonight, and he had his bachelor party last night before he went to the Manor. Down at the Three Broomsticks, him and all the Slytherins. Almost none of them showed up to class today,” at this he shot a glare at Ginny, who tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed, but couldn’t help blushing just the same. Harry thought Ginny looked a little green. He raised an eyebrow in question at Ron, who gave him a very distinct I’ll-tell-you-later-look before continuing. “I’d get more information about it if I were you Harry. It sounds as if it were pretty wild.” Hermione elbowed him hard in the ribs.

Everyone else greeted and hugged Harry, then scattered around the room, dragging in tables and chairs and laying out the feast that Mrs. Weasley had made of all of Harry’s favorite foods. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione wound up talking alone in a corner.

“It’s all right, Hermione, you don’t have to break his ribs. I trust Draco,” Harry said with a grin, picking up their conversation.

Ginny glared at Ron. “I told you, Ron. Draco was alone all-night and left before eleven. I think he was a little tipsy, but other than that, he didn’t do anything wrong!” She blushed a little as she remembered a rather dirty dance she had shared with Draco and Blaise at the party—they had all been far more than a little tipsy, but Draco had behaved.

Harry looked at Ginny. “You were at a Slytherin party? For Draco? I thought you two didn’t get along.”

This had been true. Draco never quite trusted Ginny since it was a well known fact that she had previously had a crush on Harry. She thought again of her body sandwiched between Draco and Blaise, sweaty and grinding away at both boys to the loud beat of drum and bass that had been booming through the bar. She blushed again and turned away from Harry’s gaze.

“Yeah, Harry, she was, no thanks to you, getting all this inner house dating started. She’s bloody dating Blaise Zabini now, who I don’t trust for a second,” Ron said as he seethed at Ginny. “If she had any sense, she’d stop now. A bloody Slytherin,” he said with his lip curled in disgust.

Harry smirked at him. “I’m marrying a Slytherin tomorrow, I’ll thank you to remember,” he reminded Ron, who only continued to glare at Ginny. “You should be careful though, Ginny, Draco’s told me some rather disturbing things about Blaise,” Harry added, wickedly happy to see Ron’s face go a deeper shade of Weasley red than he had ever seen before. He slyly winked at Ginny.

“Yes, well, he can be a bit animalistic,” Ginny, added for good measure. Ron looked as if he might implode.

“Dinner!” Mrs. Weasley called, and everyone gathered around the table.

The night was perfect, with everyone giving Harry some good natured ribbing about bonding with someone so notoriously high maintenance, and Ron telling stories about how far under the blonde’s thumb Harry really was. At one point, Mrs. Weasley made Harry try on his ceremonial robe and model it for everyone, much to his chagrin. Mrs. Weasley and Hermione cooed over him like he was a child and promptly got tears in their eyes. The men catcalled at him and made jokes about how pretty he looked all gussied up.

As Harry went upstairs to change back into his clothes, he turned to find Remus Lupin, who had been quiet most of the evening, standing in the doorway of his room.

“Hi,” Harry said to him. He thought he looked sad. He knew that he was just coming off a full moon and that, despite the Wolfsbane Potion he took (Harry wondered briefly where he was getting it now that Snape was gone) it always wore him out, but he thought this seemed like something more. “What’s up?” he asked him, indicating for Lupin to come in.

Remus sat down on Harry’s bed and smiled at his collection of Draco pictures on his nightstand. “I want to talk to you for a minute before you go back downstairs,” he said to Harry and patted the bed next to him. Harry straightened his robe and hung it back up, then sat down next to Remus. He put his arm around Harry. “I can only imagine that you’ve been thinking a lot about Sirius with all this going on,” he said quietly.

Harry nodded at Remus, and was surprised to see the man’s eyes fill with tears. “I have no doubt that he’d be happy for you. He wanted you to find happiness so badly. He wouldn’t want you blaming yourself for his death anymore though, Harry. Blaming yourself for that is the same is blaming Sirius for loving you, and that would be wrong. Do you agree?”

Harry nodded lamely. “I know, but I can’t help but think that if I’d just listened to Hermione and gone to Dumbledore instead of being so stupid—“

Remus stopped him. “What if Voldemort had really had Sirius? Would it have been stupid then?”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He could think of no good argument for that.

Remus smiled. “Good. I know from talking to you all year how difficult it was for you to lose him, Harry, and I just wanted to ask you to consider letting go of the guilt you’ve been carrying around all this time. You’re starting a new life tomorrow. I thought it’d be nice to do it with a clean slate.”

Harry hugged Remus tightly. “Thank you, Remus.”

Ron burst into the room. Both Harry and Remus jumped and separated then laughed. “Are you guys coming down or what? Wait till you see what Mum has now!”

Harry and Remus stood from the bed. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this all week, so I’m really glad you came up here,” Harry said as the two walked down the stairs, “I want you to have Grimmauld. I don’t need it, and I think Sirius would like it if you lived there.”

Remus grinned at him. “Harry, I can’t. He left it to you.”

Harry strode towards the door. “Nonsense. It’s yours. I’ll have Mr. Vanmere handle the paperwork, and if you don’t want it, sell it or whatever. Sirius probably meant to leave it to you, just forgot to change his will or something.”

Remus smiled at Harry. “It’s already starting,” he teased.

Harry looked at him innocently. “What are you talking about?” he asked his friend.

Remus laughed. “You sounded like Draco just then, when he won’t take no for an answer.”

Harry looked stunned. “Oh shit, I did!” he said. The two of them were laughing as they entered the kitchen, where there was a huge cake on the table with the words “Congratulations Harry!” written across it and about a hundred candles on top. Everyone cheered as Harry cut it and they all dug in hungrily. It was late when everyone finally went to bed at the Burrow.

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It was two-thirty in the morning and Draco could not sleep. He kept looking at the bedside clock, angry that time seemed to have stopped. He finally picked it up and threw it across the room in frustration. He rolled over on his back, put his stuffed dragon on his chest and stared at the ornately painted ceiling above him.

He was sleeping in his childhood bedroom for the last time. He had the room he and Harry picked as their own furnished and it was waiting to receive them tomorrow evening after their bonding festivities. He smiled evilly at that thought; he couldn’t wait to be alone with Harry. But even that smile was soon replaced by a pout. He sighed heavily and turned on his side and tried again to sleep. “I just want to see my boyfriend,” he said to his stuffed dragon. He tucked it under his chin and after another half hour or so was finally able to fall asleep.

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Mrs. Weasley woke Harry and Ron just after sunrise the next morning. Harry’s heart immediately started pounding. He was going be seeing Draco in a few short hours and then they were going to be bonded. For life. For eternity. His stomach did a strange little fluttery thing and his heart skipped several beats. He got up and quickly began to gather his things.

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Draco had been up since just after dawn as well. He kept sneaking glances out the front window of the Manor, knowing that Harry would be Apparating with Mrs. Weasley at some point. He was doing so now, when Dumbledore snuck up behind him and cleared his throat.

“Draco, move away from that window please. You’re not allowed to see Harry until the ceremony,” he said sternly.

Draco glared at him, but he moved away. He did not want to have to start this whole two-week business over again. “When’s he getting here?” Draco asked the Headmaster for the thousandth time.

The patient old man only smiled. “Anytime now, Draco, anytime.”

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Hours had passed and Draco was nervously biting at his nails and trying to distract himself with a book when Hermione walked into the room and flung her arms around him.

They hugged tightly for several seconds then Draco pulled away, looking at her excitedly. “If you’re here, then he must be here. How is he?”

Hermione laughed. “He’s been here for a couple hours, Draco. He Apparated, I just got here on the Knight Bus. He’s fine, just really nervous about seeing you, I think.”

Draco looked scandalized. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?” he demanded as he made for the door.

Hermione grabbed his arm. “Because you still have to wait to see him, you dolt, and I imagine no one but me was stupid enough to try and deal with you. And you are going to die when you do see him. He looks amazing. He’s been working out in the Weasley’s yard all week, and he’s all tan, and he bought new clothes again for the reception. I even think he’s gorgeous, and he’s like my brother. Draco, are you okay?”

Draco had sat back down in his chair and had his eyes closed. “Hermione, I haven’t seen, spoken to, or had sex with him in two weeks. What you just did was cruel. I need a moment to collect myself.”

She sniggered. “Sorry, love. But don’t collect too long. You do realize you’ve only got about forty-five minutes till your ceremony begins, don’t you?”

Draco’s eyes flew open. “What? I must have lost all track of time! You’ve got to help me!”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Just brush you hair and put on your robe,” she said and kissed him firmly on the cheek. “You always look great. I am going to help Harry though; he’s losing his mind.”

As it was for Harry’s benefit, Draco let her go without a fuss. He nervously began brushing his hair back in a ponytail and changing clothes. He looked himself over in the mirror. “I hope he still thinks I’m gorgeous,” he muttered. He gave himself a quick once over, yanked his hair down again, and started all over.

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“Bloody hell, I think I’m going to throw up,” Harry said as he leaned over a trashcan in the bedroom where he was dressing.

Ron and Mrs. Weasley both rubbed his back. “Don’t mate. Your breath will be all gross, and you have to kiss Draco at the end of this,” Ron said seriously.

Mrs. Weasley smacked Ron on the arm, but Harry laughed. “I’m so glad you’re here Ron,” he said as he straightened up, one hand still on his stomach.

Mrs. Weasley smiled at him. “Stop worrying love. The ceremony is very short and it’s a piece of cake. You’re not having second thoughts are you?” she asked.

“No! Not at all! I’m not nervous about the ceremony, I’m nervous about seeing him. What if he’s changed his mind? What if he sees me and is like, ugh, that’s what I’ve been waiting two weeks for?” His face went pale leaned over the trashcan again.

Ron and his mother rolled their eyes at each other. “Harry, Draco’s been prattling on about you for the entire time. I honestly think you could come out covered in shit and he’d be happy to see you.”

Mrs. Weasley smacked Ron again, but once again, Harry laughed gratefully. “Oh, Ron, I love you,” he said weakly. “Mrs. Weasley, could you please put a Tranquility Spell on me or something? Please?”

Mrs. Weasley happily obliged him.

Hermione walked in smiling hugely. “I’ve just seen Draco! He’s doing well, and he looks beautiful, as usual. He’s dying to see you, Harry! Get up, now, we’ve got to get you dressed and downstairs!” she said, tugging a now very docile and happy Harry from the bed. She and Mrs. Weasley fussed over him as Ron helped him into his robe, while he just stood and grinned drunkenly all the while.

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There was a light knock on Draco’s door. “Come in,” he cried, trying for the third time to tie a ribbon around his ponytail and failing miserably. His hands were shaking too badly.

He turned and looked to see Mrs. Weasley entering the room. “Hi,” she said.

“Hello,” he replied. She had been the last person he had expected.

“Are you about ready? Harry’s already downstairs. I came to get you. Here, let me help you with that,” she said as she took the ribbon from Draco. She gently tugged the band out of his hair and brushed it back into a smooth ponytail. “You know, if you’d cut this off, you wouldn’t have these problems. I could do it in a second with my wand…”

Draco smiled at her. He had heard the same speech given to Bill at Christmas. “No thanks, Harry likes it like this.” He closed his eyes and leaned back a bit as she brushed his hair and put it back up. His mother used to brush his hair for him when he was small and he found it was very relaxing. “Does Harry want to see me?” he asked shyly.

She smiled at him in the mirror as she tied the thin black ribbon in his hair. “Of course. He thinks you’ll have changed your mind. He’s been a bit nervous. Asked me to put a Tranquility Spell on him, but I think it’s worn off by now. He’s a bit too powerful for the little spells anymore,” she said kindly. “There you are,” she said, indicating his hair. He smiled approvingly. “You’d better get down there before Harry has heart failure,” she said. He stood and turned to her. She smiled and took his hand and led him downstairs to the living room where everyone was waiting for the ceremony to begin. Draco took a deep breath. His heart was beating a million times a second, and only one word was running through his mind: Harry.

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He and Mrs. Weasley came around the corner, and Draco stopped breathing.

Hermione had underestimated the situation drastically. Harry wasn’t just gorgeous, he was like a being from another dimension. He was standing in profile to Draco, laughing nervously and talking to Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore. Everyone else was already seated outside waiting for the ceremony to begin. He was slightly tan, and he was smiling beatifically. His black ceremonial robe fit him perfectly, and only accentuated the contrast between his hair and his eyes, which Draco could see sparkling from across the room. He unconsciously smoothed his hair over and over again, but as always, it refused to lie down.

Mrs. Weasley nudged Draco in the side. “Go on, love, say something.”

Draco opened his mouth to try, but nothing came out. At the sound of Mrs. Weasley’s voice, Harry turned toward him, and their eyes locked.

It was Harry’s turn to stop breathing. How could he have forgotten how gorgeous Draco was in only two weeks? Cutting Hermione off in midsentence, he started walking quickly in Draco’s direction.

Harry crossed the room in what seemed like seconds and threw his arms around Draco. The two of them just held each other for several moments, before finally pulling back and staring into each other’s eyes.

“Hi,” Harry said bashfully. He leaned over and brushed his lips shyly across Draco’s. They both shivered at the contact and pulled one another into a deep, open-mouthed kiss, the familiarity of their bodies chasing away any coyness their minds might have felt.

Everyone in the room giggled at first, but as the two began pressing into each other and moaning softly, Hermione blushed and Mrs. Weasley and Ron began to study their shoes in embarrassment at the completely raw display of emotion and need. Dumbledore finally cleared his throat and said, “Gentlemen, you may want to wait until the ceremony is over and that’s legal. We’ll be starting here in a moment.”

Harry and Draco reluctantly pulled away, both a bit breathless. “I missed you so much,” they said together, then laughed. They began stroking each other’s faces and staring deeply into each other’s eyes again, leaning forward for another kiss without even realizing it.

Again, Dumbledore spoke, but this time what he said put an end to their groping. “Molly, Ron, Hermione, take your seats with the others. We start in just a moment.”

Harry and Draco looked at each other in wonder and smiled.

“You still up for this, Malfoy?” Harry teased, twining his fingers around Draco’s.

Draco put his free hand on the back of Harry’s neck and kissed him firmly on the lips. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Potter,” he said.

Dumbledore turned towards the doors leading to the garden. “Are you gentlemen ready?” he asked.

Both boys shook their heads. Smiling and giggling nervously, they followed Dumbledore into the garden.

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Everyone clapped softly as the two walked past, following Dumbledore to the front of the crowd, where a dais had been erected for the occasion. Harry stared wide-eyed at how beautiful everything was—every plant in the garden was in bloom, and there was an arch of red roses over the dais where he and Draco would soon be standing. It was a beautiful, clear day with the sun shining all around them. Harry felt like he was in a dream.

Of course, there had been some problems with people trying to crash the party, but with each security wizard equipped with a guest list and the invitations having an Anti-copying Charm on them, it was impossible to get in without a real one. There was a media frenzy happening outside the gates of the Manor, but the house was far enough in that it affected the ceremony not at all. Dumbledore and the security team had charmed the skies around the Manor for a mile so that no brooms would be able to take flight in order to avoid aerial disturbances. Everything had worked splendidly, and inside the garden nothing more than a small, very personal ceremony attended by family and friends was taking place.

Dumbledore, Harry and Draco had now reached the raised platform. Harry and Draco stood face-to-face, hands lightly clasped together, faces still wearing silly smiles. Dumbledore began the ceremony in a deep, booming voice.

“You have all been invited here today as witnesses to the bonding of Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy. After today, the two will be as one, and no act of a God or a Man can tear them asunder. Or a Goddess or Woman for that matter,” he improvised. Everyone tittered.

“Harry, Draco, please hold out your hands,” Dumbledore said as he raised a rather large jewel encrusted dagger. Harry immediately held his out, palms up.

Draco blanched a bit at the sight of the knife, but quickly followed suit. He looked furtively at Harry. “You go first?” he whispered.

Harry smirked at him and looked to Dumbledore, who was trying not to laugh. He took Harry’s right hand in his and quickly made a long, deep cut across his palm. Harry had braced himself for at least a small sting, but felt nothing more than the warm rush of blood as it began to collect in his palm. Before he even realized it, Dumbledore had slit his other hand and moved on to Draco.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he whispered to the blonde just before Dumbledore administered the first cut. Draco closed his eyes anyway. Soon, though, both boys were standing with bleeding palms.

“It’s over, love,” Harry whispered. Draco opened his eyes and smiled sheepishly.

“Please face each other and join hands, palms together, and do not release them until it is time,” Dumbledore instructed.

They looked at him in confusion and he only winked. They turned to each other and pressed their palms together. Immediately, both of them could feel the wounds sealing around one another, like two sets of lips locked in a kiss. Harry had the strange sensation of Draco’s blood pouring into his body, and of his pouring back out into Draco’s, and Draco felt the same. Both of them gasped without knowing it.

Dumbledore began to say incantations in Latin over the boy’s hands, but neither of them could hear what he was saying. Their minds were swirling, and they were suddenly sharing an amazing experience.

They saw themselves together as they were now, then watched as they aged and grew old. Then, it was as if they were swirling down a light filled tunnel and had emerged in another time. Two boys were standing hand in hand in front of a priest in what looked like ancient Greece; they swirled again, and a blonde boy and black haired girl were working in a field together, stealing glances the whole while, dull wedding bands on their work hardened fingers; another lurch, and then there were two girls, kissing softly under a huge oak tree on what looked like a plantation of some sort; it went on and on for what seemed like forever to the two of them. It actually ended when Dumbledore had finished his incantations. They felt their hands separate and the wounds heal instantaneously and they stood there looking at each other with new eyes. One thing had been clear to both of them; all the people and places they had seen had been the two of them, together in other lifetimes. If either of them had harbored any secret doubts, they were certainly gone now.

Dumbledore waited until they lowered their hands to their sides before speaking again. “If the two of you will please repeat after me, inserting your own names in the proper place,” he said quietly.

Harry and Draco joined hands again and took a step closer to one another. Dumbledore began.

“I, Harry James Potter/Draco Lucius Malfoy” the two boys said in unison, repeating Dumbledore, and looking deeply into each other’s eyes, “now surrender my soul to you. For me, you are the air I breathe, the nourishment I need to live, the very blood that flows through my veins. Any injury I inflict upon you, I inflict doubly upon myself. Any sickness you feel, I will share. Pain, nor anger, nor treachery, nor even Death will ever separate us. I am yours, and you are mine, for this lifetime and every other.”

Without waiting to be told, Harry and Draco grabbed each other and kissed.

“Well, to make it official,” Dumbledore said from behind the two kissing heads, “You may now seal this bond with a kiss, and death unto any who try henceforth to break it.”

Everyone stood and cheered, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Professor McGonagall, Remus Lupin and even Ron wiping away tears. Harry and Draco kissed, oblivious to it all.

“Boys,” Dumbledore said quietly to the couple, but to no avail. He waited a moment and tried again. “Gentlemen, you’ll have plenty of time for this later. Your guests are waiting,” he reminded them.

Draco tried to pull away, only to have Harry pull him back against him. “Yeah, well, they can wait a bit longer. I’ve been waiting two weeks.” With that Harry kissed Draco again.

Everyone roared with laughter and continued clapping.

At long last, the two pulled away from each other and walked back into the Manor, their guests behind them. They were soon surrounded by people hugging and kissing them both, granting congratulations and wishing them luck. At long last, Mrs. Weasley made her way to them and led them back upstairs to the bedroom where Harry had gotten ready earlier that day.

“Well, you two get changed and we’ll see you back downstairs,” she said with a weepy smile.

The two boys looked hungrily at each other, thinking they were about to finally get a chance to be alone. Draco put his arms around Harry’s waist and pulled him to him. Harry looked into his eyes and nearly melted when he saw the familiar smoky grey orbs looking back at him hungrily.

“Yes, Mrs. Weasley, we’ll be there as soon as possible,” Draco said in a low, gravelly voice.

Mrs. Weasley had the decency to look a bit ashamed when Remus Lupin entered the room behind her. “Sorry I’m late!” he said. Harry and Draco shot him dirty looks.

“Um, yes, see you,” she said as she made a hasty retreat.

“Did they send you up here to keep us off one another?” Draco said, voice slightly raised.

Lupin raised his hands and shrugged. “I guess I’m busted,” he said as he sat down and smiled at the two of them. “Get changed, now. The sooner the reception starts, the sooner it’s over and we all go home and finally leave you two alone,” he said teasingly.

Harry and Draco looked at each other desperately. With heavy sighs, they began to carefully take off their robes.

Even with Lupin in the room, the tension was incredibly high. The two boys watched each other undress with hungry expressions, and when Harry, not wearing underwear per usual, dropped his pants to change, Draco audibly gulped. It took all his will power not to fall to his knees and take Harry in his mouth, supervision or no. He turned his back and began pulling on his change of clothes with trembling hands.

“What’s the matter, Draco?” Harry whispered to him as he placed his hands on Draco’s hips. He had moved behind the blonde silently.

Draco spun around and grabbed Harry, who was at least wearing trousers now, and crushed his mouth against his. They were kissing so hard that Harry’s glasses were knocked askew.

Lupin, who had been distractedly looking at the coat of arms on the wall as to not appear to be staring at the boys as they undressed, turned back around at the sudden quiet in the room. His eyes became comically wide when he saw Harry and Draco in a tight embrace, kissing passionately and groping one another shamelessly.

“Hey! You stop that!” he cried at them as he crossed the room and pulled them apart.
Draco literally growled at him.

“That doesn’t scare me, Draco. You two will have to wait, honestly. You’ve got almost a hundred people down there waiting for you! Good thing Dumbledore sent me up here, really. I suspect you’d never have come down!” Lupin chastised them.

The two boys were still a bit breathless and wearing decidedly grumpy looks. They managed to carry on a silent seduction while dressing themselves however, making excuses to smooth shirts over chests, straighten belts, and help with buttons.

Harry dressed was not much better than Harry naked, in Draco’s opinion. He was wearing a simple pair of black dress trousers and a white cotton shirt that fit him perfectly. He left off the tie, and kept the shirt open at the throat. Draco couldn’t keep his eyes off that long, muscular neck and bit of smooth tan chest.

Harry was having problems with Draco as well, who was wearing a pair of charcoal grey dress trousers with slightly wide legs and a thin black silk sweater with bell sleeves and a boat neck. He watched as Draco took his hair down and ran his hands through it to smooth it out.

“Dammit,” Harry growled, and lunged at Draco. This time, Lupin was ready, and stepped over and pulled them apart again.

“NO!” he yelled and pointed his finger at them as if they were bad puppies. “Enough! You’re both dressed, now let’s go!” He shunted both boys out the door in front of him, enduring the glowering looks they shot at him over their shoulders.

Draco turned forward and took one of Harry’s hands. He kissed the fresh scar on his palm, then traced it with his tongue. Harry shuddered. “It’s going to be a bloody long night,” Harry thought to himself. Draco squeezed his hand in reply, not realizing that he had just heard what Harry was thinking. The two made their way to the dining room where the reception was being held, wanting nothing more than to throw every single person out of the house, no matter how much they loved them all.

Chapter Text

The huge dining table that usually filled the dining hall at the Manor had been removed and replaced with several, smaller tables that seated between six and eight people, though Harry and Draco were seated at the front of the room at a table of their own. House elves and servers bustled about filling drinks and taking food orders.

Harry and Draco sat down and began kissing again. They were immediately interrupted by people approaching the table and wishing them well, as was the custom. Typically, gifts would be opened at this time as well, but the two had asked instead that people pledge money to a new philanthropic organization that the two boys had started called the Malfoy –Potter Trust. The money would be distributed to various charities of the boy’s choosing each month.

Harry smiled brightly as Hermione and Ron approached, her parents in tow. Draco and Harry stood and took them both in friendly embraces while The Grangers watched from behind Hermione.

“You looked like you were going to faint when Dumbledore held up that dagger. What did you say to Harry?” Ron said to Draco.

“I asked him to go first,” Draco said shamelessly. Everyone laughed. “The thing looked like you could cut someone’s heart out with it!” Draco cried, but he was laughing too. He and Ron released one another and Harry smiled happily. The two seemed to have become quite close in the two weeks that Harry and Draco had been separated, though Harry suspected that they’d never stop teasing one another.

Hermione stepped forward with her mother and father. Harry shook their hands and said hello, as he had met them before. Draco looked a little wary—he had only met real Muggles only once or twice in his entire life and was instinctively untrusting of them.

“Draco, this is my Mum and Dad,” Hermione said.

Draco smiled as genuinely as he could. “Yes, nice to meet you,” he replied as he shook their hands.

“You have beautiful teeth,” Hermione’s mother told him, leaning closer for another look. “Steven, look at his teeth! Those are natural, aren’t they? No veneers or anything?”

Why the fuck are they so interested in my teeth? Draco thought, becoming a bit nervous. Do Muggles collect teeth, he wondered.

Harry laughed out loud. “They’re dentists, Draco. They fix Muggle’s teeth, not collect them” he said to his confused boyfriend. Draco looked at him as if he’d gone mad and the others were staring at him strangely as well. Harry looked around at all of them. “They have wizarding dentists don’t they?”

“Yes, Harry, I know what a bloody dentist is,” Draco replied, “but how did you know what I was thinking? You swore you wouldn’t use Occlumency on me without my permission.” He was studying Harry carefully.

Harry looked back at him, eyes wide. “I didn’t. You didn’t say that out loud?”

No, Harry, I didn’t say anything. That would have been rather rude of me don’t you think? Draco thought.

Harry looked at him with a surprised grin, happy realization spreading across his face. Can you hear me? he thought, taking Draco’s hand.

Draco grinned back. Harry melted on the spot. Yeah, I can hear you just like you’re speaking to me out loud! Draco thought back.

“What are you two doing?” Hermione asked. Everyone was looking at the couple in wonder.

“We can hear each other’s thoughts now,” Harry said with great excitement. I want to strip you naked, lick you all over, then fuck you senseless, he thought to Draco.

Draco sputtered and visibly blushed. Oh, you filthy little shit. Are you sure you want to start this game with me? He thought back.

Harry laughed out loud and hugged him tightly. “No, no, I don’t. I surrender!” he said out loud.

Hermione had the excited look on her face that she got when she found out she was right about something in class. “I read about this! It means that your bond is really strong! It doesn’t happen that often! How cool! Can your parents do that, Ron?”

“I don’t know,” Ron answered, looking at Harry and Draco in awe. “That is really cool,” he added.

They all talked for a while as more people filtered by, then Harry and Draco were alone again at their table.

You look amazing in those clothes. I cannot wait to rip them off you, Draco thought as he began stroking Harry’s thigh under the table.

Harry growled at him from deep in his throat. I can’t wait either, though I’m willing to bet that I can get your clothes off you before you even get my shirt unbuttoned. Did I tell you I love you yet today, and that I can’t wait to be alone with you?

Draco smiled. No, you didn’t, meanie, Draco thought as he made sweeping motions down the inside of Harry’s thigh, Mmmm, I love you too. The way you smell, he leaned over and buried his face in Harry’s neck, breathing warmly against it, the way you taste, he clandestinely licked Harry’s neck, causing a very sharp intake of breath on Harry’s behalf, the way you feel, under the table, he ran his hand up Harry’s thigh to his crotch and gave a gentle squeeze and began to rub his hand over the growing reaction there. Mmmmm, I want that inside me, Draco thought as he smiled at the quickening of Harry’s breath.

“Draco, stop it,” Harry breathed, pushing his hand away and nudging him from his neck. “People keep coming over here and talking to us, it’d probably help if I were coherent. You have no idea how bloody horny I am.”

Draco smiled at him seductively and once again ran his hand over Harry’s erection. I have a pretty good idea, he thought. He was loving this whole telepathy development.

A small moan escaped Harry’s lips as he pushed Draco’s hand away again, more firmly this time. “Stop,” he said out loud, looking Draco sternly in the eyes.

Draco pouted at him and Harry couldn’t resist kissing his puffy lips. They were once again interrupted, this time by the arrival of their food.

The reception went on for hours and the two boys telepathically tortured one another the entire time, sending very detailed descriptions along about what, exactly, they planned on doing to one another, or what exactly they wanted done to them by the other. After a while, they stopped standing up when people approached their table for chats. They had attempted to escape to the bathroom just outside the dining hall, but they were being very closely watched by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore and Remus Lupin, who wouldn’t allow them anywhere alone. Memories of Draco’s birthday party disappearance were still fresh in everyone’s mind.

After a particularly nasty transmission from Draco, Harry stood abruptly from the table, adjusting himself so that his erection was not painfully obvious, and excused himself. Draco smirked as he watched his new mate make directly for the bathroom.

Don’t know what I’m laughing about, he thought to himself, I could do with a quick wank myself. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, very thankful for his roomy trousers. He was brought out of his reverie by the approach of Blaise and Ginny.

“Well,” he said haughtily, “if it isn’t my friend Blaise and his kinky, voyeur, bump-and-grind girlfriend,” he said, looking at Ginny Weasley in a way that made her feel distinctly naked. She blushed to the roots of her hair, then went alarmingly pale.

“What are you talking about?” she asked Draco.

“Which bit?” he shot back.

“The voyeur bit. Why’d you say that?”

Draco smirked at her. “My dear Ginny, do you not remember the conversation we had before our little dance the other night?”

Ginny thought back and suddenly she did. She gasped and covered her hand with her mouth.

She, Blaise and Draco had all been sitting at a table in the Three Broomsticks, Draco teasing the two of them about their sex life (which, at the time was non-existent as it was only their third date), when Draco made a comment about Ginny giving Blaise head. Ginny had looked Draco squarely in the eye and said “Well, if I need pointers, I know who to ask.”

Draco had looked confused. “Has Harry been talking about me to you?”

“No, but judging by what I saw in the drawing room at Grimmauld this past holiday, you’re quite good at it. Seem to enjoy it too. The two of you really should be more careful about where you choose to suck each other off.”

Draco had been absolutely astounded, but duly impressed. His opinion of Ginny had gone up considerably and he and Blaise had deemed her an honorary Slytherin after hearing the full story. “Really, between you, Fred and George, I am beginning to gain a lot of respect for the Weasley clan. How you all ended up in Gryffindor, I’ll never know,” he had commented before challenging her and Blaise to a dance.

“All coming back to you now, love?” Draco asked her, highly amused at the horrified expression on her face. “Harry and I might be a bit careless, but at least I can hold my tongue when I’m pissed,” he teased.

“Does Harry know?” Ginny asked.

“No, and if you’re nice to me, Ginny Weasley, he never will. He’d positively die of embarrassment.”

“Shhh,” Blaise said, “here he comes.”

Draco was again amused to see the look of relief on Harry’s face as he made his way back to the table. Ginny was blushing crimson.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you that he just went to the bathroom to wank off because I’d been playing with his dick under the table. It might bring back unwanted images of how beautiful he is when he comes,” Draco said to Ginny in a very throaty voice.

“Oh God,” she said as she grabbed Blaise’s hand and quickly walked away, completely unable to face Harry at all. Draco laughed merrily and held out his hand to Harry.

Harry kissed Draco’s cheek as he sat down. “Where’s Ginny going? I wanted to give her some shit about dating Blaise.”

Draco took up right where he’d left off, grabbing Harry’s hand and placing it on his own erection. “Mmmm, I think she went off to snog Blaise somewhere. I wish I could take you off somewhere.”

Harry yanked his hand away and growled. “I am so going to hurt you later. Please leave off for a bit. Go to the bathroom, it helps. Seriously,” he said to Draco.

“I want you to do it for me,” Draco said with a pout, trying vainly to place Harry’s hand back on his crotch. He leaned over and kissed Harry on the lips, running his tongue along the top one when he pulled away.

Harry groaned. “It’s doing it again,” he said with a quick look at his lap. “You are so evil, Draco.” Draco only licked his lips at him. “Will this night ever end?!” Harry whined.
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What seemed like days later, the night did indeed finally end. Harry and Draco were waving good-bye to the last of their guests, arms around each other’s waist and hands already starting to drag across each other’s spines and backsides. Draco moved forward and closed the door, then turned to Harry. Harry expected that he was about to be kissed, when Draco’s lips broke out in an evil smile. “Race you upstairs,” he said. “Don’t forget, once we get there, we have a bet about who can strip who first.”

Harry looked at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. I’ve been walking around with a bloody hard on all night, have one right now in fact, and you expect me to chase you up the stairs to that tower?”

The two stared at one another for a moment, then Draco turned and sprinted away.

“You fucking BRAT!” Harry yelled as he chased after him, smiling widely and laughing the whole way.
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Draco stopped just inside the door of their bedroom, thinking Harry would use stealth upon entering the room to try and take him by surprise. Instead, Harry barreled around the corner and hit Draco still running at full speed. He wrapped his arms around the blonde on impact and pushed him backwards across the room until they both toppled over onto the huge bed.

Harry wasted no time, as he fully intended to win the bet the two of them had. Not for nothing did the Sorting Hat originally believe he would have done well in Slytherin—Harry fought dirty at these occasions. As soon as they hit the bed, his hands were tearing at the zipper of Draco’s trousers and in seconds he had them open. He wasted no time with niceties, just moved straight down and took Draco whole in his mouth, rendering the blonde completely useless.

Draco cried out loudly and bucked his hips up to meet Harry’s warm, eager mouth. After a few minutes making sure that Draco had forgotten about their bet, Harry stopped briefly to remove Draco’s clothes so that he could go about his business properly. It only took moments, but Draco whined the entire time. Harry repaid him by taking his sweet time getting back to Draco’s erection, spending lingering kisses on his chest, stomach and hips. Draco had finally grabbed Harry’s head with both hands and pushed him down.

Harry was amazed at how intense his feelings were and the feeling was only aided by the fact that he could now hear the fragmented thoughts streaming through Draco’s mind. Oh, Merlin, love you, feel so good, love you, love you, never stop, oh fuck ran around his head like a loop, egging Harry on.

Harry was so involved in pleasing Draco that he didn’t notice his mate tugging at his shoulders until Draco said his name. He stopped and crawled up, laying on top of Draco and kissing him all over his face. “Hmm?” he asked.

Draco began tugging at Harry’s buttons. “Take off your clothes,” Draco breathed.

Harry stood and pulled his shirt off over his head and kicked of his shoes and socks. “I won our bet by the way. You are fully starkers and my shirt is only just now unbuttoned,” Harry said smugly as he dropped his pants.

“Who cares?” Draco growled as he sat up and pulled Harry down on the bed. He pushed Harry on his back and kissed him hard, then turned his body and straddled Harry’s face and lowered himself into his mouth while leaning down and wrapping his own mouth around Harry’s arousal. They had never done this before, and both moaned loudly, the vibrations only increasing their already heightened senses.

The two eventually rolled over on their sides, still sucking hungrily. Harry moved his hand over Draco in time with his mouth, and when his fingers were thoroughly wetted, he slid two of them up and inside him. Draco threw his head back in surprise and pleasure and inhaled sharply. After adjusting to the new sensation, he took Harry deeply in his mouth again.

Harry stopped everything he was doing and pushed at Draco’s hips, rolling him on his back. He stood from the bed and began digging through his trunk for his wand.

“Mmmmm, Harry, hurry,” Draco moaned from the bed. Harry found what he was looking for, did the proper lubrication spell and returned.

Draco was lying on his back, legs spread wantonly, stroking himself and moaning. Harry sat back on his heels and watched, also stroking himself in preparation, as his mate put on quite a show for him. Draco knew full well that Harry’s eyes were on him from what he was thinking, and accommodated him by arching his back and tossing his head from side to side. He opened his eyes only enough that Harry could just make out the grey glittering from beneath the lids and looked up. “Harry, fuck me now, please,” he moaned.

Harry had to sit completely still for a moment and gain some modicum of control to prevent himself from falling on top of Draco and thrusting violently into him. He reached out and wrapped his arms under Draco’s knees and pulled his hips up onto his lap. Slowly and teasingly, he made his way inside.

There was a swirl of energy around the two of them as Harry lost all control and began pounding Draco with hard, almost desperate strokes. “Am I hurting you?” Harry asked, but Draco only moaned and pushed him in deeper in reply.

Loveyouforeverohgodfeelsogoodfuckmeharderharryloveyoudracoloveyouloveyouneverstoppingnever rolled jumbled between the two, who were no longer sure if they were speaking or thinking these things.

Draco felt like he was going to explode. With a low growl he pushed Harry onto his back and sat back on him, rocking back and forth over his black haired mate. Harry gripped Draco’s hips so hard that he hard ten perfectly circular bruises from Harry’s fingertips for several days to come. Draco watched lustfully as Harry’s long black eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks and his breaths began coming in short, hard rasps. He reached out and began stroking Draco in time with Draco’s grinding hips.

“Coming, Draco. Come with me, please,” Harry breathed, out loud this time and it worked in sending Draco over the edge. Bright white lights exploded behind each boy’s eyes, and the room was filled with their cries. Draco ground into Harry until his bucking subsided, then moved off him and began licking his stomach and chest clean. At last, he lay down on top of him and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

Harry mumbled “Accio towel,” and one flew from the bathroom into his hands. He cleaned Draco and himself off, and the two began kissing slowly and lazily, feeling no need for words. They were still catching random thoughts from one another anyway.

Before too long, their kissing became more insistent and they both felt themselves growing aroused again. It’s good to be sixteen, Harry thought and Draco laughed against his lips.

Hand me your wand, Draco thought to Harry, who reached around and grabbed it from the bedside table without ever leaving Draco’s lips. They stopped kissing briefly while Draco said the spell then began preparing Harry.

Things were much slower and sweeter this time, but no less passionate. Harry was still always amazed at how tender Draco was in bed; he would have never suspected it. It was, as always, exactly everything that Harry needed. It wasn’t long before both of them had climaxed again.

“Mmmph,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s neck when it was over.

“Uh-huh,” Harry replied. In seconds, the two exhausted boys were out, more unconscious than asleep.

Draco woke up a few hours later, still inside a softly snoring Harry. He wiggled out and Harry groaned in his sleep but did not wake. They had neglected to open a window and the room was stuffy and a bit hot and smelled strongly of sex. Grinning, Draco kissed Harry’s forehead and got up from the bed to open a few of the big stained glass windows.

“Where you going?” Harry mumbled as Draco parted from him. Draco leaned over and kissed him again, staring at the grass green eyes glittering between his long ashy lashes.

“Just going to open a window, let some air in here,” Draco replied.

He was just opening a third one when Harry came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist and began to sweetly kiss the crook of his neck. “Draco, I love you,” he whispered into the blonde’s ear.

Draco smiled and reached back, sinking his hand into Harry’s hair. “I love you, too, so much.” He turned and kissed Harry on the lips. Harry pulled him closer and the kiss deepened.

They pulled away and rested their heads on each other’s shoulders. “Ugh, I’m smelly,” Draco said, sniffing his armpit. “That is disgusting. I have to go take a shower, middle of the night or not.” He sniffed at Harry. “You need one too, my pure little Gryffindor. You smell like Quidditch practice,” he added.

Harry smiled at him. “Miraculous. You just admitted that you do, in fact, have bodily odors. Ah, the joys of being married,” he teased.

“If you ever tell anyone, you’ll know the joys of being dead, Potter,” Draco replied. “Besides, you smell way worse than I do. Let’s just go take a shower, please? Then we’ve got to get some sleep. We’ve got a lot to do tomorrow.”

They had plans to pack the next day and leave in the evening for France. Harry took Draco’s hands and began stroking his palms with his fingers, eyes cast bashfully downward as he did so. Draco smiled as he recognized this stance. Harry was about to ask for something he wanted very badly, but was afraid Draco wouldn’t give him. Draco couldn’t bring himself to tell Harry that he’d never be able to tell him no about anything because he found this behavior so adorable.

“Draco?” Harry began.

“Yes, love,” Draco replied.

“Can we, maybe, wait to go to France? It’s just, I’ve never been before, and I want to see everything, but right now I just want to be alone with you as much as possible. I don’t want to go and just spend the entire time in our hotel room. Could we, maybe, just go to our house in Montrose? It’s all finished now, and I’d love for you to see it. And we would be all alone there. Or we could just stay here, either way,” he said as he looked at Draco hopefully.

Draco smiled and took Harry’s face gently in his hands. He kissed his nose, his forehead, cheeks and lips. Harry smiled; he knew he was going to get his way.

“Of course love. Let’s go to Montrose. I want to see what you did with that dump,” he said as he brushed his lips over Harry’s. “But now, shower.”

The two tramped off together and ultimately decided on a bath. They sat together, washing each other’s bodies and talking about their ceremony and marveling over their past life experience. They looked like two prunes when they emerged, but were happy and ready for bed. The last thing Harry saw as he was succumbing to sleep, Draco already dozing peacefully on his chest, was the sun rising in their tower. Thinking that things couldn’t possibly get any better, he finally fell asleep.

Chapter Text

The driver opened the door for Harry and Draco to find Harry hurriedly zipping his trousers and Draco straightening his hair.

“Thank you,” Draco said casually as he exited the car, completely nonplussed.

Though the man had not indicated that anything was wrong, Harry was blushing an almost Weasley red. “Sorry,” he muttered as he got out, not able to look the driver in the eye. He was quickly distracted by a loud gasp from Draco who was staring raptly at the house.

It had been completely repaired and painted a dark, slate blue with ivory trim. The front doors had been replaced with much smaller replicas of the doors to Malfoy Manor, and on top of the highest roof was a large, cast iron weather vane in the shape of a vicious dragon. Along the sprawling front porch were many big cushy chairs, and at the end overlooking the lake there hung a hammock, definitely big enough for two.

“Do you like it so far? I put the dragons everywhere so you wouldn’t miss the Manor too much,” Harry said.

“If the inside looks half this good, I’ll be very impressed indeed,” Draco replied.

“Come on then,” Harry said with a grin.

Once on the porch, Harry placed his hands over Draco’s eyes and opened the front door. He led his prone mate into the foyer and removed his hands. Draco gasped again.

The floors were now glistening dark wood throughout. The walls had been painted a cozy shade of jade green and there was a fire burning merrily in the living room grate. The façade of the fireplace had been covered from floor to ceiling in natural stone, and the room was furnished with overstuffed, simple yet comfortable furniture in various shades of brown, sage and burgundy. There was a thick, burgundy rug spread on the floor underneath. On every wall were pictures of all their friends, and Harry had even managed to get some pictures from the Manor of Draco and his mother during his brief visit there and have them overnight owled to the house. Light and airy draperies fluttered in the open windows, allowing in just enough light.

The dining room was furnished in the same, simple fashion, with a huge cherry wood block table surrounded by high-backed matching chairs. An iron chandelier hung above the table with at least a dozen arms filled with short, fat vanilla scented candles.

Harry guided Draco into the kitchen, which had totally been redone. The old, out of date cabinets had been replaced with clean, rich wooden ones, and the old tile counters had been replaced with shimmering marble. Harry, who loved to cook despite having been forced to do it for the Dursleys his whole life, had equipped the space with every device, Muggle and wizard, he could find. A smaller table, just for two, sat in a nook with a bay window overlooking what would become an herb garden.

“Harry, this is amazing,” Draco said sincerely. This house was the complete opposite of the Manor, with its simple lines, and warm welcoming feel. While the Manor was beautiful, most of the items in it were so valuable that even Draco was a bit uncomfortable with a lot of it. Here, lounging around and enjoying life seemed to be invited.

“The upstairs isn’t done yet, but our room is. Come on,” Harry said as he tugged Draco up the stairs.

Their room had been painted a deep red and trimmed in a dark cream. A huge mahogany platform bed, easily big enough for four adults, sat in the center facing the wall of windows that overlooked the lake. It was dressed in a thick velvet comforter and big fluffy pillows. There were two matching wardrobes, one slightly bigger than the other for Draco, and another big, overstuffed couch and chair in front of the big brick fireplace, and a thick, soft rug was thrown in front of it.

“Well?” Harry asked.

Draco turned and kissed him. “It’s beautiful. I am so glad I let you do this!” The house reminded him of Harry in every way-simple, comfortable and strong. Draco kissed him again. “Did you get a big enough bed?” he teased.

Harry pulled him close and brushed kisses over his face and neck. “I figured we’d be spending a lot of time there so it might as well be comfortable,” he teased back.

Draco sighed and ran his hands under Harry’s t-shirt. “Let’s break it in, shall we? I mean, we are on our honeymoon, so to speak. We’re supposed to shag like animals.”

Harry growled at him and pushed him towards the bed.

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The days had gone far too quickly for both of them, and they were now only two days away from returning to Hogwarts. The rest of their belongings had been delivered, and it was decided that the remaining bedrooms would be made into an office for Draco and two guest rooms for friends. Plans to build a small guest house on the back of the property were in the works.

Harry and Draco were now lying curled around each other in the hammock under a light blanket on the front porch, dozing lightly and peacefully, Draco’s head resting on Harry’s chest. Harry was smiling contentedly and having happy dreams of winning the European World Cup.

His happy in between dreams were suddenly interrupted. Anger washed over him as a dark cloud parted and the world seemed to be coming into focus around him. He could see himself marching towards a small, stone house in the middle of a nondescript, slightly overgrown field. There was a definite chill in the air, but in his wrath, he seemed not to notice it.

“My Lord, your cloak!” a tremulous voice called from behind him.

He whirled around and raised his wand. The hand that held it was long, white and spidery, not Harry’s hand at all. In the distance, Harry saw a very large stone house much like the smaller one he had just been approaching.

In his sleep, Harry moaned piteously.

“You are fortunate that I don’t kill you where you stand, Wormtail. Do not ever interrupt me,” Harry said with Lord Voldemort’s mouth and voice as Peter Pettigrew threw the cloak over his shoulders. He turned and stalked towards the house again.

They entered through a small side door and were welcomed by a piercing scream followed by a long, low moan. Turning a corner, Harry saw a badly beaten man with longish black hair and a hooked nose writhing on the ground, the wands of five Death Eaters pointed at him. He was simultaneously furious and pleased as he saw one of them was none other than Bellatrix LaStrange.

Voldemort/Harry loomed over the injured Severus Snape, and Harry felt hatred like he’d never known well inside him. While he had never liked Snape, this was an unparalleled feeling of ire; Voldemort’s hate. “So, Severus, you have been spying on me for that old man. Or was it for the boy? To whom do you answer?”

Snape said nothing, he just continued to lie on the floor panting. Voldemort raised his wand again and cried “Crucio!” Severus screamed again and began to convulse in front of him. After an eternity, he lowered his wand. “Lift him up so I can see his face,” Voldemort said calmly.

The Death Eaters grabbed Snape and dragged him to his feet. His head lolled unpleasantly, but he finally managed to look Voldemort in the eye.

Harry caught a glimpse of something in Snape’s face as he stared out of the Dark Lord’s eyes. He knows I’m here, Harry thought to himself, then quickly shut his mind down, to keep the creature whose body he was sharing from catching his presence as well.

“Is there anything you wish to tell me before I kill you, spy?” the Dark Lord spat.

Severus Snape actually managed a smirk. His eyes seemed to clear and he looked deep into the eyes of his accuser, past the body that was before him, and deep into Harry’s mind.

“I told them nothing. I have kept my honor. Keep him safe,” the condemned man said, not to Voldemort, but to Harry.

“You have no honor, spy. It’s time to put your babbling to an end,” Harry/Voldemort said as he raised his wand; it was inches from Severus’ heart. “AVADA KEDAVRA” he cried.

Severus Snape fell to the ground, dead.

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“Harry, please wake up, please!” Draco cried, shaking his mate roughly. He had been doing so for at least five minutes, ever since Harry’s thrashing had knocked them both onto the floor of the porch. But Harry had only continued to moan and convulse, eyes moving rapidly back and forth underneath his eyelids.

At that moment, Harry sat straight up, eyes wide, and knocked Draco from his side. “No!!!” he screamed, then turned his head and was violently sick.

Draco was very aware that he could no longer hear Harry’s thoughts as he rushed to his side. He began rubbing his back as he threw up, panic rising in his mind.

Harry finally overcame his sickness and stood unsteadily, glasses askew and hands shaking badly. His scar was pounding.

“Harry, what is it? What did you see?” Draco asked him, still stroking his back gently. He was terrified by what just happened. Hermione had told him in great detail what it was like to witness one of Harry’s visions, but this was the first time he had seen it for himself.

Harry straightened his glasses and some color returned to his face. His eyes glowed angrily, but underneath, there was an unmistakable sadness.

“Draco, we have to go back to Hogwarts. Now. It’s the only place that’s safe,” Harry said sternly, grabbing Draco by the shoulders and looking him in the eye. Harry’s heart wrenched at the look of fear and confusion on Draco’s face and it nearly broke with the news he was about to impart. He loosened his grip on Draco’s shoulders and held him to him tightly. “Draco, Snape is dead,” he said as gently as he could.

Draco drew away from him, mouth opened in shock. “How do you know that?” Draco demanded.

Harry stroked his face. “I just saw it. I was just inside Voldemort’s mind and watched as they killed him. He’s close, somewhere in Britain, I think, it looks familiar. I just can’t place where,” Harry trailed off.

Draco’s voice brought him back. “How do you know you’re not wrong? How do you know the Dark Lord isn’t just trying to lure you to him again?”

Harry hugged Draco to him again, needing to feel him close. “Because, Voldemort didn’t know I was there. It was real, Draco. I’m so sorry. I know that, despite everything that happened, you and Snape cared a lot for one another.” Guilt over his hatred of Professor Snape assaulted Harry and the Potions Master’s last words came back to haunt him: Keep him safe. Harry knew exactly who Snape had been talking about. That thought brought him back around and he pushed Draco gently away. He was unsurprised to see that the blonde had started to cry.

“Draco, I know this is hard, but you have to help me. We have to leave, now! You’re not safe here, we’re not. Come on, let’s get our things. I need to speak to Dumbledore right away.”

Harry held out his hand to Draco and the shell shocked blonde took it. Harry led him into the house and was relieved when Draco began quickly packing his things, wiping away his tears and focusing on the moment. He watched Draco move around the room as he considered the quickest way to get there. He wanted to Apparate, but was unwilling to leave Draco’s side. He would have to teach Draco to Apparate, illegal or not. He had a dark feeling that in the coming months, it would come in handy. He decided the Knight Bus was their best option.

As Harry was shutting his bag, Draco came behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. Harry turned to him and Draco flung his arms around him. Harry squeezed him back.

“It’s starting, isn’t it? He’s coming for you,” Draco whispered.

Harry squeezed him again then pulled away. “Not yet, love. We still have some time. But we have to go. If he gets into my mind, he’ll see this place, and I don’t want that. The only place I feel is safe right now is Hogwarts, with Dumbledore.” Draco nodded and followed suit when Harry picked up his bag and headed for the door. They joined hands and left their happy two weeks behind.

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Harry and Draco were sitting in Dumbledore’s office, their bags lying on the floor beside them as they had come straight there on arrival. Harry had just told Dumbledore about what he had seen and was now sitting with his head in his hands, Draco next to him, one hand on his back. Dumbledore was seated behind his desk with his chin resting on his steepled fingers, thinking hard.

“Well gentlemen, I guess all we can do tonight is get the two of you settled, then I will ask that you both attend an emergency meeting of the Order. Harry, you were right to return here. We need to start making plans.”

Harry nodded wearily and stood, Draco doing the same next to him, taking his exhausted mate’s hand.

“Are we still staying out there, Headmaster?” Draco asked. Harry looked at him, confused.

Dumbledore sighed. “Yes, Draco, nothing has changed. You’ll both be as safe there as here at the castle,” he replied, then turned to Harry. “Draco and I had worked out a bit of a surprise for you, Harry, sort of as a late bonding gift. I regret that you are to find out about it under such terrible circumstances. Follow me.”

The surprise was a small apartment in the teacher’s dormitory just away from the school.

“I gave up my Prefect position since we’re only going to be here another two months so that I didn’t have to stay in the castle. I thought you’d want us to be alone,” Draco said to Harry as they entered.

Harry gave a faint smile and nodded. “You shouldn’t have given up your badge, Draco. But, this is nice, a very good idea” he said quickly as he saw the look of disappointment that had flooded Draco’s face. Harry was happy that the two of them would be living alone, but he wasted no time getting familiar with his surroundings. He dropped his bag on the ground and turned to Dumbledore. “Get everyone together. We need to talk.”

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The meeting was held in Remus Lupin’s flat just down the hall. It was very cramped as the Order had grown somewhat since last year. Dumbledore conjured drinks and food for all the members, then everyone came to order and listened raptly to Harry’s tale.

Draco watched in horror as they officially elected Harry leader of the Order, with Dumbledore as his second, but he said nothing, as Harry seemed please with the decision. They began to debate over the course of action they should take against Voldemort and the discussion raged on until very early in the morning, when several of the members got up to leave, promising to return the following day. It dwindled down to Remus, Dumbledore, Arthur and Molly Weasley, Harry and Draco. The sun was coming up when Harry shook Draco, who had fallen asleep on the couch, and led him back to their flat.

When they got there, Draco made straight for the bed, but Harry went into their small living room, made a fire in the grate and sat down on the couch. There were dark purple circles under his eyes already, and he looked easily ten years older as he stared at the growing blaze.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” Draco asked him gently.

“Not yet love. You go on. I’ll be there in a minute,” Harry replied.

Draco padded over and kissed Harry on the lips. Harry kissed him back, but was very obviously distracted. Draco gave him one last worried look and went to bed. When he rose several hours later, Harry had not left his spot on the couch.

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The next day passed slowly, with Harry barely speaking to Draco at all though neither of them left their apartment. Harry never really slept, instead just took small catnaps on the couch in front of the fireplace where he spent the entire day, only getting up to eat and shower, and even at that he ate very little. He would often close his eyes and sit very still for hours at a time, sometimes moaning softly as if he were being hurt. Draco knew he was watching the Dark Lord at these times and would sit and watch in fascination and fear.

Harry had completely shut his mind off from everyone so that there was no chance that the Dark Lord would hear his thoughts, and Draco missed being able to communicate with him in this way. By the end of their first day back, he missed Harry, period. The boy he knew was gone, left somewhere on the front porch of their house in Montrose, and Draco knew this new one not at all.

They were crossing the school grounds on their way to an Order meeting in Dumbledore’s office when shouts filled the air, coming from the direction of the front gate. Both Harry and Draco drew their wands and rushed forward.

A family with two young children, presumably students, was standing on the other side of the gate, looks of horror on their faces. The children had their faces pressed into their mother’s legs as she screamed and pointed at something on the ground. Remus Lupin was standing with her, stroking her back and trying to calm her down. Harry could see Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley and the woman’s husband hovering around something on the ground.

He intuitively put an arm out to hold Draco back from going any further. “Stay right here,” he said to him.

“Harry, I’ll be okay. Now move your arm, I’m coming with you,” he said, clearly irritated.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think you should. Please, go up to Dumbledore’s office and wait for us. Please Draco, I’m begging.”

Draco glared at Harry for a second then stormed back toward the castle. Harry watched him go, relieved. He had a sick feeling in his stomach as he walked down to the gate and joined the others.

He approached the group of men who were standing in a circle just past the gate. “Dumbledore, what is it?” he called as he drew nearer. The men only looked up at him, pained expressions on their faces. Arthur Weasley tried to shield Harry from the gruesome sight, but Dumbledore shook his head no. Reluctantly, he moved to the side so that Harry could join their circle.

Harry looked down and felt a wave of nausea rush through him. It was Professor Snape’s body.

“We believe they must have dumped him here this morning,” Dumbledore said quietly. “We’ll need to post guards at all the entries to the grounds.”

Harry was grinding his teeth together in anger. At his sides, his hands clenched into fists so tight he would have half moons cuts on his palms when he released them.

“Let’s get him up from here. Does he have family?” Harry said.

“No, Harry, his father was the last, and he died two years ago. You’re right, let’s take him to the castle. I’ll talk to Draco about burying him,” Dumbledore said as he placed a levitation spell on the body.

“Don’t let Draco see him like this,” Harry said to the Headmaster as they all walked somberly to the castle.

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Two weeks passed, with Draco growing increasingly worried about Harry. He would wake every morning to find Harry making breakfast for him and trying to pretend that nothing was bothering him, but Draco could see only too clearly that it was all an act. As time wore on, even the act was wearing thin, and Harry was growing more and more distant.

Harry and Dumbledore, and sometimes Remus Lupin, were up into the wee hours almost every evening discussing the problem of Voldemort. Draco didn’t know how the others were doing, but Harry had barely slept at all. He had lost a noticeable amount of weight and looked ill. He had completely stopped going to classes, and when Ron and Hermione visited the two of them, he would often leave the room without speaking to them. Draco, Ron and Hermione had done their own fair share of talking about the situation, and had decided that Harry was keeping them in the dark on purpose, trying to protect them. None of them were happy about it.

Draco and Dumbledore had buried Snape in a very small ceremony just days after the appearance of his body. Draco blamed himself entirely for his death, thinking that if the Professor had not left Hogwarts, he would not have been uncovered as a spy. It was irrational and he had no proof that the two were in any way related, but he shouldered the blame all the same.

This morning was the same as the others, Draco noted as he rose. He walked into the kitchen to find Harry scrambling eggs, wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms and socks. He looked horrible. The dark purple circles under his eyes had long since been replaced by black ones, and he seemed to grow thinner by the day. Each of his ribs was clearly visible. He moved lethargically around the kitchen, completely unaware that Draco was there at all.

As Harry was feeling worse and worse, so was Draco. Their bond was so strong that even though Harry had closed his mind to his mate, Draco could still feel many of his stronger emotions and physical sensations. This was how Draco knew that Harry was bordering on debilitating exhaustion. It was an effort even for Draco to drag himself to classes, and he wasn’t even getting the full weight of it: he couldn’t imagine how Harry was still standing. Stitching his eyebrows, he went across the room and grabbed the plates from Harry’s hands.

Harry jumped and screamed, then rounded on Draco. He had pulled his wand from the waistband of his pants and was now holding it on the blonde. He breathed with relief and lowered it at once.

“Draco, don’t fucking sneak up on me like that!” he yelled. He pointed his wand at the broken plates and mumbled “Reparo” and the plates became whole at once.

Draco couldn’t take much more of this. He was used to Harry sensing his presence from a mile away and this new distance between him was like having a limb removed. He looked to Harry, eyes shining with tears. When Harry’s only response was a low grumble, Draco stormed back into the bedroom and threw a cloak on. Without even stopping to brush his hair, he stormed back through the living room and out the front door.

“Where are you going?” Harry yelled, but it was too late. Draco was gone.

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Minutes later, Draco marched unannounced into the Headmaster’s office. Dumbledore looked up, surprised to see him in such a disheveled state.

“Draco, what is wrong? Where is Harry?” the Headmaster asked, concerned.

Draco broke down. “He’s in our apartment! Or someone that sort of looks like him is,” Draco said, sobbing. “I can’t fucking deal with this. He won’t eat, he won’t sleep, he won’t talk to me. He’s about to drop from hunger and exhaustion, and HE WON’T LET ME HELP HIM! Draco yelled as he flung himself in one of the Headmaster’s chairs. “You have to do something! If you keep pushing him like this, he’s going to get sick, or worse.”

Dumbledore swept around the desk and put his hand on Draco’s back. Draco looked up at him miserably.

“How long has it been since he’s slept?” Dumbledore asked.

“He takes little naps on the couch throughout the day, fifteen, twenty minutes at a time. But he hasn’t slept in the bed with me once since we got back here. I can’t remember the last time I saw him eat something,” Draco said.

Dumbledore sat in the chair across from him, a sad smile spreading over his face. “I think I have been hoodwinked by young Mr. Potter,” he said quietly. “I thought he seemed odd the last several meetings, but I assure you, Draco, I had no idea things were this bad. I’ve been giving him a Dreamless Sleep Draught each night that I see him. He has assured me that he has been taking it. I trusted him.” The Headmaster sighed and stood. “Let me get another vial of the Draught and let’s pay him a visit, shall we?”

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They heard it as soon as they opened the door to the stale flat. Harry, moaning loudly and sobbing. Draco ran straight to the living room, knowing that he’d find Harry in his usual place, on the couch in front of the fire.

He was there, only he’d fallen to the floor in his thrashing. Draco ran over and tried to wake him, but to no avail. Without thinking, he grabbed both of Harry’s hands so that their bonding scars were aligned, and felt their hands become hot and press together. Behind him, he vaguely heard Dumbledore yell “No, Draco,” as he was sucked into Harry’s mind.

He could see the small figure of a woman writhing on the ground, surrounded by Death Eaters, and knew at once because Harry knew that it was an unfortunate Muggle who had happened upon the Dark Lord’s hideout. It was testament to his cruelty that he chose to make sport of her in front of his lackeys before killing her outright. Draco, who seemed to be an outside observer, turned his head away from the spectacle, unable to watch. His head ached because Harry, who did not have the luxury of being able to turn away, had a headache. As he scanned the room, his breath caught in recognition. At that instant, Draco felt a shift in energy and felt himself being dragged back to the small living room at Hogwarts.

Beside him, Harry’s eyes flew open and he immediately rolled over and struggled not to be sick. It was in vain, and in seconds Dumbledore was there with a cool cloth stroking it across Harry’s thin back. He was disturbed by the condition the boy had allowed himself to get in. Draco had not overstated it in the least. While his body seemed wracked with sickness, he turned on Draco, and Dumbledore could see that his eyes were wholly alive.

Harry grabbed Draco’s shoulders, fingers digging in deeply. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again!” he roared at the shivering blonde. “If he’d felt you there, everything would be lost, do you hear me? My being able to see what he’s doing without him knowing is the only weapon we have now that Snape is dead!”

Draco stood and stumbled away from him. “I was only trying to help you! I’m sick of watching you torture yourself like this, you idiot! It hurts me too, you know. I can feel everything you’re going through, whether you shut your mind to me or not,” Draco said, voice thick with tears as he looked at Harry like he was a complete stranger.

Harry ran his hands through his hair and looked up at Dumbledore. “What are you doing here?”

“Harry,” Draco said quietly.

“Draco came to me this morning, and it would appear none too soon. You have to eat Harry, and you have to get some sleep. You’ve been lying to me about taking the Draughts I’ve been giving you.” Harry’s steeled is jaw at this.

“Harry,” Draco said again, more loudly.

Dumbledore pulled a vial of Dreamless Sleep Draught from his robe and held it out to Harry. “Either you take this of your own accord, or I will force it down you. I imagine I could keep you in a Body Bind long enough to get it down with Draco’s help.”

Harry snatched it away from the Headmaster, eyes blazing.

“Harry,” Draco said again, his voice growing urgent.

“What?!” Harry yelled, turning on Draco again.

“I know where they are,” the blonde said quietly.

Harry sprang to his feet and grabbed Draco by his shoulders again. “Where, Draco? Tell me.”

“Let go of me,” Draco said wearily and sat down in a chair. “They’re at my Auntie Bella and Uncle Rudy’s summer home. It’s about three hours north of London.”

Harry turned to Dumbledore, a maniacal smile on his face. He looked like a madman.
“Call everyone together. We have to make plans,” he said as he pulled the same shirt he had been wearing all week over his emaciated frame.

Dumbledore pushed him none too gently on the couch. “My offer still stands, Harry. Either you take that potion and get some rest, or I will make you. Once you are back in your right mind, we will address this new development.” Anger and sadness was coming off Dumbledore in waves. Draco had forgotten how powerful the Headmaster was it had been so long since he had encountered him in this way. Dumbledore was pleased that Draco had been able to identify the location of Voldemort’s new hideout, but he had been horrified at Harry’s behavior and treatment of Draco. He could not believe it had taken Draco this long to come to him.

On the couch, reason seemed to return to Harry. He uncorked the vial and drank the contents in one gulp. Within seconds, he was fast asleep. In the chair across from him, Draco was nodding off as well.

Dumbledore levitated both boys to their room and put them in bed. Once he was satisfied that they were comfortable, he returned to the living room, where he remained until Harry awoke and joined him.

Chapter Text

Harry awoke some twelve hours later in his and Draco’s bed—it was the first time since their return to Hogwarts that this had occurred. He could see the outline of his sleeping mate and remorse flooded his body. He stared at the peaceful form for a minute, then reached out and stroked Draco’s face. He kissed him lightly on his back and got up carefully as to not wake him. He knew that Draco had been almost as exhausted as he had been and probably needed the rest. And he thought that if Draco woke now, he would never leave the room again, and he needed to talk to Dumbledore.

As for himself, he felt much better. He was thinking clearly for the first time in weeks and was starving. The most important thing on his mind right now, however, was being alone with Draco. He walked into the living room where he knew the Headmaster would be waiting.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly as he entered the room.

Dumbledore, who had been dozing lightly on the couch, raised his eyes to Harry. “Feeling better, Harry?” he asked kindly.

Harry sat across from him and threw his legs over the arm of the chair. “Yes, loads. A bit hungry though. I can’t remember when I last ate. I guess I’d better get off my arse and cook something,” he trailed off and started to rise.

“No need,” said Dumbledore with a wave of his wand. The coffee table was suddenly laden with all of Harry’s favorites.

Harry couldn’t help but grin. “Thanks, Dumbledore,” he said.

Dumbledore watched Harry as he tucked in. Other than the fact that he was too thin and still a bit pale, he looked like his old self again. Happy to see the improvement and not wanting to upset Harry all over again, the Headmaster reluctantly began to speak. “Harry, I need to talk to you about your behavior and most particularly about Draco.”

Harry put the sandwich he was eating down in front of him and dropped his eyes, ashamed. “I know,” he whispered, “I’ve been horrible to him. Ron and Hermione, too. I just got so scared, all I could think of was Sirius—“

Dumbledore held up his hand. “Harry, you don’t need to explain your actions to me. I think that your friends and Draco will understand as well. But you cannot distance yourself from Draco like you have. It will make you both ill, and if it goes on for too long, that illness will become irreparable.”

“The two of you have the strongest bond I have ever seen. Your ability to communicate telepathically is so rare it is almost unheard of. I have thought from the day of your ceremony when you had the past life experience that the two of you were bonded on a much deeper level than anything I had ever experienced and witnessing what happened this morning when Draco entered your mind only confirms it. I think with more exploration, you will find there is nothing that Draco knows that you don’t, and vice versa. It is similar to when Voldemort cursed you and transferred some of his powers to you, except you and Draco are now literally two halves of one whole, while still being individuals.”

“ I believe that is why the manor where Voldemort is now hiding was familiar to you even though you, personally, have never seen it. You recognized it because Draco knows it. While the two of you may not share capabilities, just as you do not share all of Voldemort’s capabilities, you will be able to experience things with Draco that most of us only dream of, Harry, but you have to allow it.”

“I know you think that by shutting yourself off from him and staying distant you are protecting him, but nothing could be further from the truth. Granted, you were deeply affected by your lack of sleep and hunger, but the most severe cause of your distress was that you cut yourself off from Draco. It’s actually a testament to your desire to protect him that you were able to maintain the disconnection for so long, and Draco’s love and respect for you that he didn’t intervene sooner. You must not do that again, Harry, especially when you are in danger.”

Harry smiled. “That’s why I wanted to come talk to you while he was still asleep. Can you get everyone together tomorrow night? I have a plan I think will work now that we know where Voldemort is. But I need time, at least a day, to spend with Draco. I feel so empty…all I want is to be with him,” Harry said, deeply regretting what a fool he’d been. If the Order and the Ministry followed his plan, he would be battling Voldemort very soon. He could not believe he had wasted the past two weeks with Draco when they may not have much time left.

Dumbledore stood. “Then join him, Harry. I think it would do you both a world of good.”

Dumbledore and Harry embraced and Harry walked him to the door. “Thank you again. I’m sorry I lied about taking the Draughts,” he added.

Dumbledore only smiled and rested his hand briefly on Harry’s cheek. “Go be with Draco. I will call everyone together and see the two of you tomorrow,” he said as he swept out the door.
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Harry crept back into the bedroom and stood by the bed looking down at Draco. It was a familiar spot for him, as he had visited it every night since he and Draco had moved into the small apartment. He couldn’t count the hours he had stood here, watching Draco sleep, unable to be away from him, but too scared to be too close. If it hadn’t been for all those nights, standing just a few feet away from Draco, watching his dreams and even touching his pale skin on occasion, Harry really would have gone mad. While his skills at Occlumency were such now that shutting even Dumbledore out of his mind was only an afterthought, shutting Draco out required constant concentration, even when Draco wasn’t trying to hear his thoughts. Dumbledore telling Harry that they had an abnormally strong bond had not come as any surprise. The Headmaster had no idea.

Harry reached out and stroked Draco’s face again, then crawled over him and lie down next to him. Being this close to him after so long was making him a little light-headed. He propped himself up on one elbow and ran his fingers over Draco’s hair, his eyebrows and his lips. He wrapped an arm around him and threw one leg over the blonde, soaking up his smell and the feel of his skin, clinging to him desperately. He began to sprinkle light kisses over the boy’s back and shoulders, unable to shake the need to be ever closer to the blonde.

Draco was having a lovely and very vivid dream. Harry was touching him in the most loving way and it made his heart ache. Harry didn’t touch him like this anymore and he missed it so much. He’d never thought he could need the touch of another human being so badly, but not having this with Harry had been like starving. He smiled sweetly in his sleep and leaned back into the warmth of his dream.

“Draco,” Draco’s dream Harry whispered in his ear. This is a very vivid dream, Draco thought, now half awake. I can feel his breath on my cheek, he thought as he smiled longingly.

It’s not a dream, love. Wake up, please, Harry thought to Draco, still raining kisses on him.

Draco rolled over on his back and open his eyes ever so slightly, ready to plunge back into sleep if Harry wasn’t really there. He wasn’t expecting him to be, as he’d grown used to waking up alone in the past two and a half weeks.

But Harry was there. He was looking down at Draco and smiling. As Draco stared at him, Harry took one of his long pale hands and began to kiss his face.

“I have to be dreaming,” Draco said out loud. “Harry wants nothing to do with me anymore.”

Harry brushed Draco’s hair back as a pained expression crossed his face, eyes full of remorse. He leaned over and kissed Draco deeply and thoroughly.

Draco was almost embarrassed by how quickly his body reacted. Warmth flushed over him and he felt like he had just been pulled from an icy pool where he had been close to drowning, finally able to breath again. He could feel Harry’s weight as he lay half on top of Draco, and his mouth was warm and sweet, as always. Draco plunged his hands into that soft, wild hair and was lost. Nothing had ever felt so perfect in all his life. If this was a dream, then Draco wanted to sleep forever.

Harry pulled away and looked into Draco’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, eyes full of very real sorrow, but Draco put is finger to Harry’s lips. He marveled at how new and yet how familiar it was to touch him like this, without fear and with love. “Shhh, you don’t have to say it, love. I know. Just kiss me again, please.”

Harry did.

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Harry and Draco spent the next several hours getting reacquainted with one another, taking their time and renewing their bond. They now lay together, Harry’s head resting on Draco’s chest, arms and legs entwined.

Harry looked up at Draco. “I do have to say it. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help but think of how many people I’ve lost in this and I became utterly determined not to let it happen again. Losing Sirius…killed part of me, I think, and I didn’t want to have to go through that again. And Ron and Hermione both were so badly injured last time. I know I was wrong, Draco, but I just thought I was protecting you, then it just got out of control and I didn’t know what I was doing anymore. Can you forgive me?”

Draco pulled him tighter. “Potter, we just shagged as if our very lives depended on it. Are you daft? Of course I forgive you. You forget, I can tell what you’re going through even when you try to kick me out of that thick skull of yours. I knew what you were trying to do, which is why it was so frustrating. I just wish I’d gone to Dumbledore sooner-you’re too skinny. I’ll have bruises from your hipbones,” Draco only half teased, reaching down and tracing his lover’s jutting collarbones.

Harry smiled slightly, then cast his eyes down in a bashful way. “You don’t regret bonding to me, do you?” he asked.

Draco tilted his chin up and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Never, Harry. Just please, don’t do that to me again, okay?”

Harry gave him the first genuine smile of the night. “Agreed,” he said as he lowered his head back onto Draco’s chest. “I’m going after him, Draco. I’ll need your help, especially if the Order and the Ministry don’t back me.”

Draco sighed: he had been waiting for this since they left Montrose. “When are you planning on doing this?” he asked quietly as he brushed his hand through Harry’s hair.

“I’m going to propose to the Order tomorrow night that we attack him, right then and there. I hope they’ll agree to it on such short notice, but if they don’t, I’m going, regardless of what they say. We’ll take him totally by surprise, and I still have the protection from staying with the Dursleys last year, so I think it’s now or never. He wants it over, too, I can feel it every time I’m inside him, so he should be pretty easy to draw out. It’s time to end this. Will you help me?”

Draco scooted down the bed and turned to face Harry. He placed a hand on the back of his shaggy head and pulled him into another deep kiss. “I’ll never leave your side, Harry. If you go, I’ll be there with you. I’d prefer to do it with an army of Ministry police behind us, of course, but if we’re alone, we’re alone. Like you once said, we’ve all got to die sometime,” he finished quietly. Now that the moment had come, Draco was surprised to find that he was not afraid at all.

Harry took Draco’s hands, aligning their bonding scars. Once again, they’re hands grew hot and seemed to seal together. They seemed to glow lightly in the dark. Suddenly, Harry could feel everything Draco could feel-his hands in Draco’s, his chest on top of the smooth, hairless chest of his mate, and Draco could feel the opposite. They smiled at each other, absolutely astounded at this new feeling. Yes, we do, I suppose, Harry thought as he kissed Draco’s face and neck, shivering from the sensation of his lips against Draco’s skin, but not tonight.

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The next morning, Harry and Draco entered the Great Hall for breakfast just after Ron and Hermione had started eating. People eyed them curiously as it was their first appearance together since their bonding, but they seemed so wrapped up in each other that no one bothered them except for the occasional congratulatory wish. When Hermione saw the two of them looking rested and well, holding hands and exchanging loving looks, her eyes filled with tears. She quickly turned her attention back to her porridge.

“Hi,” Harry said cautiously, unsure of how his friends would react to his presence. It was the first time he had seen or talked to them in almost three weeks.

Ron looked at him with a scowl. Oh no, he’s still mad, Harry thought to himself.

“It’s about time you showed up to see what you’ve caused!” Ron practically yelled at Harry.

Harry turned to Draco with a questioning look, and Draco smiled and jerked his head towards the Slytherin table. Ginny was there, sitting in Blaise’s lap, feeding him strawberries. With every bite, Blaise would draw her fingers in his mouth and suck greedily.

Harry snickered under his breath and looked back at Ron. “How did I cause that?” he asked, relieved that Ron wasn’t mad about his recent bad treatment of him and Hermione. Once again, his friends had understood him.

“It’s because of him!” Ron said, leveling a finger at Draco.

Draco only smirked. “I assure you Weasley, I had nothing to do with that,” he drawled.

Ron began to redden. “No, but if Harry here hadn’t fallen in love with you, then it wouldn’t be okay for Gryffindors to run around snogging Slytherins. And, Ginny had a huge crush on him! They might have gotten together…eventually,” Ron finished lamely.

Harry grinned at Ron’s distress. “Ron, she’s fifteen now, you had to know she was going to hook up with boys. And we never would have gotten together-Ginny’s as much my little sister as she is yours.”

Ron’s face brightened at this. “Wanna help me pummel Zabini then?”

Harry belly laughed, amazed at how good it felt. Things were as they should be once again. Thinking this, his heart sank. There was a very real chance that all of this would be over in less than forty-eight hours. He affixed a fake smile on his face as Draco squeezed his hand reassuredly.

“Love, don’t think about it,” Draco said to Harry, spooning heaping portions of food onto Harry’s plate.

“Don’t think about what?” Hermione asked from beside Ron.

Harry kissed Draco’s forehead and turned to his friends. “Let’s eat and I’ll tell you after breakfast. You guys are skipping class today,” Harry said as he began to eat.

“Bu Harry, I have—“ Hermione began.

“No arguments, Hermione. You’re skiving off. Now shut up and eat. I’ve got loads to tell the two of you.”

Hermione closed her gaping mouth and stared at Harry blankly for a moment, dread washing over her. She knew what this had to be about. Suddenly, she had lost her appetite. Pushing her plate away, she waited patiently for the others to finish their meals.

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A loud and heated argument had broken out among the trio, which Draco happily stayed out of. Harry had just told Ron and Hermione about his plan to ambush Voldemort and had very forcefully informed them that they would not be allowed to come along this time. Needless to say, the pair was protesting vociferously.

“How dare you, Harry Potter. We’ve been there for you since the beginning of this!” Hermione cried.

“Yeah, mate, we’re the same year as Draco, and you’re letting him go,” Ron pouted.

Harry sighed heavily and took one of each of their hands. Hermione yanked hers away. Harry took it again, squeezing it tightly. “Hermione, don’t be a brat. The two of you got hurt last time-Hermione, you nearly died. I won’t take that chance again. Last time, we rushed in without any idea of what we were getting into and the only reason I let you come then is because we were wasting time arguing and I thought they had Sirius. I know what I’m getting into now-I know the numbers, the layout of the manor, their powers, everything. And you two aren’t trained enough. You can’t go. I already have to live with the guilt of Sirius and Snape, I won’t add my two best friends. Besides, if I do die, someone will have to be left to write my memoirs,” Harry joked.

Hermione hissed at him. “Not funny, Harry, not funny at all. And Ron’s right-you’re letting Draco go, and we are same year,”

Harry smiled at her. “Hermione, I’m not going to die. And you know that Draco and I have a special…um…situation because of our bonding, so don’t even try that. Plus, you’re forgetting the lifetime of teaching he had under his father. Draco’s very powerful and he knows a lot of things that you guys don’t,” Harry said gently.

Beside him, Draco smiled. Harry had never called him powerful before. He was right though, Draco did know a lot of very advanced Dark Magic that might come in handy. He was very acquainted with the rituals and rules of the Death Eaters, being that he had been groomed to be one his entire life. He rubbed the spot on his left arm where he would have gotten the Dark Mark on his sixteenth birthday, then cast a glance at the scar he’d gotten from the tracking device the day his father tried to kill him. He liked it much better than the alternative, he decided.

Hermione and Ron exchanged dark looks. “So, this may be, literally, the last time we ever see you alive?” Ron asked in his off hand, yet disarming, no holds barred Weasley manner.

Harry and Draco now exchanged a look. “Yeah, I suppose it is,” Harry answered.

Hermione let out a sob and threw herself at the two of them, doing a very nice imitation of the patented Molly Weasley Double Twin Crunch on Harry and Draco. Draco squirmed uncomfortably as she had him around the neck and he couldn’t breath. Harry pried her off and took her in his arms.

“Hermione, I’ll be fine. Stop crying for Merlin’s sake,” he said gently.

Hermione only cried harder. Harry continued to hold her and Ron stroked her hair. Draco tried telling her dirty jokes, but it didn’t help. All three boys waited until she cried herself out and pulled away from Harry. She began stroking his face, then looked to Draco. Another muffled sob escaped, but she clamped her hand over her mouth and gained control.

“Really, Hermione. Don’t be so emotional. I promise, it will be fine,” Harry said to her again.

Hermione couldn’t speak. She just looked at Harry and Draco thinking I wish I knew that for sure, Harry. I wish I knew for sure.

Sensing her thoughts, Harry wrapped her in his arms again.

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The four friends spent the rest of the day walking around the Hogwarts grounds and talking about anything but the impending battle that would be taking place far too soon. They watched as classes changed and people milled about, then ended for the day. Soon, the sun was sinking in the sky, causing Harry to check his watch.

“We’d better go,” he said sheepishly. “The Order meetings usually start at 7:00.”

Everyone stood stock still for a moment, then Ron lunged forward and took Harry in an embrace so tight it bordered on a death grip. They stayed this way for several minutes until Harry managed to squeak out “Ron, can’t breath,” and Ron released him. Tears were running down his face.

Both Hermione and Draco moved forward to comfort Ron, but he waved them away. He took Harry’s hands in his and looked his best friend in the eye. “I love you, Harry. You’re the best friend and brother I’ve ever had.” At this, his face screwed up as he held back a sob. “All I have to say is, if something happens, if we never see each other—“

Harry, tears in his eyes as well, cut him off. “I’ll see you day after tomorrow, Ron. Don’t be a prat.” Harry had tried to sound put out, but his voice was thick with tears.
The two embraced again.

“If you die, Harry, I will kill you. Hear me?” Ron said, finally succumbing to his sobs.

Harry only nodded against him.

“Love,” Draco said, sounding a bit choked up himself, “we have to go.” He placed his hand lightly on Harry’s back.

Harry and Ron separated, both wiping their faces with the backs of their hands. Harry turned away from his two best friends and what was left of his innocence. In that moment, any part of him that had been a boy was put to bed, never to be awoken again.
He took Draco’s hand.

“Bye mate, bye Hermione. I’ll see you day after tomorrow,” he said emphatically as he and Draco turned away and made for the castle.

Ron had collapsed, sobbing, against Hermione’s shoulder and did not see the silhouette of Harry and Draco as they became only small black dots moving in the distance. NO, Harry! Be careful! Don’t go! all played on her lips as the two boys walked away, but she knew that actually saying any of it would just be trite. Instead, she stroked Ron’s hair and tried to ignore the sense of emptiness that had welled inside her.

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The Order meeting went more quickly than Harry could have ever imagined. It turned out that Dumbledore had spent the day at the Ministry telling everyone Harry’s plan (which, much to Harry’s annoyance, the Headmaster had gotten by reading his mind the morning before) so by the time the meeting took place, it was really just a formality. Much to Draco’s relief, there would be about two hundred Ministry police and Aurors on the raid of the Lestrange manor as well as the Order members. They would surround the two houses while Harry went off on his own to draw Voldemort into a fight.

This had been the only argument of the meeting. When Harry had said he was going alone to fight Voldemort, Draco had pitched a fit, reminding him very publicly and loudly that they had agreed to stay with each other through thick and thin. It was only when Dumbledore agreed with Harry that Draco backed down.

“Your being there near Harry will help protect him, Draco, but what has to happen between Harry and Voldemort has to occur with just the two of them. I’m afraid you would only distract Harry from his task if you were with him. I dare say he’d more concerned with protecting you than himself, although the point is really moot,” the Headmaster had said.

Draco had finally agreed to pair up with the Auror Tonks, who he was surprised to learn was a distance relation on his mother’s side. They would take the side entrance to the small cottage at the back of the property where he and Harry had watched the Muggle woman being tortured, as it was believed many of the Death Eaters would try to retreat there. Three other teams would cover the rest of the cottage.

Once everyone got their positions, there was nothing to do but wait for time. They would be attacking in the middle of the night, hoping to catch the Death Eaters and their leader even more off guard. Harry and Draco said their good-byes and went to back to their apartment to be alone.

The two sat down on their bed and kissed sweetly and deeply for several minutes before Harry pulled away.

“I have to go there love, for a bit. I need to see what they’re up to before we all leave,” Harry said sadly, not wanting to break away from his mate.

Draco stroked his cheek. “I hate when you do this,” he whispered.

Harry sat back against the headboard of the their bed and patted the spot next to him. Draco scooted up beside him. “I hate it too. Will you hold my hand?” he asked Draco in a small voice.

Tears welled in Draco’s eyes, and he wiped them away angrily. “Dammit Potter, would you please stop making me cry?” he joked. He took one of Harry’s hands in both of his and held them to his heart, careful not to align their bonding scars. He knew he could not go with Harry this time.

Harry smiled weakly and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was moaning and his eyes swept back and forth beneath the lids. He was inside Voldemort’s mind, completely out of Draco’s reach. Draco could feel the scar on Harry’s forehead throbbing and his stomach starting to churn. He ached watching Harry in this much emotional pain.

Please, let this end tonight, one way or another, Draco thought to himself. Next to him, Harry had started to cry. Draco reached out and wiped away his tears.

Chapter Text

Harry woke Draco with a light shake and a gentle kiss on the cheek. The night before, they made love slowly and deliberately, knowing that they would be facing death in just a few short hours. Afterwards, Draco had fallen asleep, but Harry had lain awake all night, watching him sleep. He had been so beautiful and peaceful in his sleep that it wrenched Harry’s heart to wake him, but it was time to go.

“Love, get up. We have to get going,” Harry whispered against Draco’s lips. In seconds, Draco’s lips met his own. The kiss was heavy, made poignant by the fact that it could be one of their last. They lay for several minutes staring into each other’s eyes, caressing each other’s faces and feathering light kisses on each other. Then, without a word, they sighed and rose from the bed. They took their time getting dressed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Everyone gathered outside the teacher’s dormitories to wait for the appointed time to Apparate to the compound where Voldemort was hiding. Ministry personnel was already moving into place around Lestrange manor, and there was only about fifteen minutes left before they joined a small army of Aurors and Ministry police. The Order members, all old friends, were laughing nervously at unfunny jokes and sending furtive glances at their sixteen year old leader.

Harry and Draco were standing apart from the others, holding hands and kissing at intervals between long, loving looks. Harry looked down at he and Draco’s hands, clasped between them.

“Are you scared, Draco?” he asked quietly.

Draco straightened his shoulders and smiled at Harry when he looked up. “No, I’m not. Why? Are you?”

Harry gave Draco a smirk. “Yea, actually, I am. Terrified, in fact.”

He grabbed Draco and pulled him into a tight hug. Despite the thickness of their cloaks, he could still feel Harry’s heart pounding against his chest. Draco held him closer and soothed his hands over his back, calming him the best he could.

“You need to take your own advice and stop being so emotional. You’ll be fine, remember?”

Harry smiled wanly as their eyes locked again.

And if we’re not fine, just know that I will be right there with you, Draco thought to Harry.

The two met for a brief kiss that was interrupted when Dumbledore called out that it was time to go.

Harry and Draco stood slightly apart and lightly grasped hands. They were going to attempt to Apparate as one by aligning their bonding scars.

“What if this doesn’t work?” Harry asked Draco, eyes filled with concern.

Draco smirked. “Well, if it doesn’t and I get splinched, at least take the bit along that has my wand. I don’t want to be totally defenseless over there.”

Harry gave him a stern look. “That’s not funny,” he said, though it was obvious from the way the corners of his mouth were twitching that he found the idea of Draco’s torso wielding a wand while his lower half remained at Hogwarts somewhat amusing.

Around them, the Order members called out good luck wishes and began to Apparate away. The two boys clasped their hands tightly together, scars aligned.

I guess splinching is the least of our worries right now, Harry thought to Draco, only half joking.

Just do it, love, Draco thought back.

Just like that, they were standing with the other Order members at the meeting point a half mile away from the Lestrange property.

Harry gave Draco a quick look up and down after releasing his hands.

“Well, you made it,” he quipped.

Draco smoothed his robes, completely nonplussed.

“That wasn’t nearly as exciting as I expected. I thought it’d be more like a Portkey or going by Floo, but it’s just poof! You’re there.”

Harry couldn’t help but grin. “It takes a lot to impress you, apparently.”

Draco merely lifted an eyebrow in response and turned to take in the scene. He bristled slightly as he recognized some of the Aurors who had been there during his arrest, but said nothing of it. Instead, he turned to Harry.

“Well, I guess this is good-bye. I have to go find Tonks and you have to go play hero,” he teased, trying to lighten the moment.

Harry traced his fingertips over Draco’s lips, his cheeks and his eyes; he stared at the blonde’s face as if trying to sear it into his brain.

“Don’t say good-bye, Draco. It’s bad luck.” He pulled his hand away and kissed his other half on the lips. “I’ll see you later,” he said, eyebrows raised for emphasis. “And be careful!”

“I’m not a child, Harry,” Draco answered, his throat tight. He leaned forward to kiss Harry once more. Then, with a loud crack, Harry was gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry reappeared outside the front door of the main house. He quickly scuttled behind the verge to wait for the other Order members to arrive, listening intently for any noise coming from inside the house. From the spying he had been doing, he knew exactly the path he would have to take once inside the house. The Dark Lord never slept, so he would not have the element of surprise the others would have. His stomach clenched up as he waited anxiously for the raid to begin.

The air around him erupted with the sounds of about a hundred wizards Apparating to their locations and then fell silent again as they began to stealthily approach their targets. In the distance, he could the glow of Draco’s hair in the moonlight and wished vaguely that he would raise his hood to cover it. He wanted to send the thought to him but was afraid that it would accidentally alert the Dark Lord to Draco’s whereabouts. He watched intently as Draco moved to the smaller structure at the back of the property, Tonks at his side. Harry had told no one, but the house that Draco and Tonks would be guarding was empty as it was only used to hold prisoners and the Death Eaters had recently killed them all. His hope was that Dumbledore and the others would quickly overcome the fifty or so Death Eaters inside the main house and that he would likewise dispose of Voldemort in a hasty fashion, preventing Draco from ever coming anywhere near the actual battle. Judging from the sudden surprised shrieks from inside the house and the complete lack of activity where Draco was, things were going as planned.

If you really want to keep him safe, get up there and kill that ugly arsehole, he thought to himself. He rose slowly, wand extended before him, and Apparated to the bedroom upstairs where Voldemort was waiting.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry’s senses were at his peak and he was concentrating with all his might on everything he had ever loved as he pushed the door open. He knew that it was the power of his mother’s sacrifice and his ability to love that would ultimately save him from Voldemort, no matter how many spells he knew. Like a movie, Harry ran every happy memory he could recall through his mind over and over again.

Ron’s smiling face appeared in his mind, along with Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Lupin, Sirius, Dumbledore and his parents.

And always, amongst the other faces and alone, there was Draco. Draco laughing, smirking his trademark smirk, moaning and sweating under him, pressing his lips to Harry’s, pouting prettily, anything and everything Draco.

When Voldemort finally turned to face Harry, he was surprised to find a peaceful smile gracing the boy’s face.

Harry stood stock still as his nemesis rose to meet his gaze, his wand only inches from the monster’s face. Voldemort was stronger, as Harry knew from invading his mind the last few weeks, but his anger was a surprise and was almost overwhelming in its strength. Harry continued thinking of his loved ones and held strong in the face of it.

“How dare you!!” Voldemort cried. “You have the audacity to invade my home, you and your traitors and Mudbloods? What can you possibly hope to achieve? Surely you don’t actually believe you can defeat me, Potter?”

The Dark Lord sneered at Harry who only continued to stare at him from the other end of his wand.

“That’s just what I think,” Harry answered.

“That old man has been lying to you, it would seem,” Voldemort almost crooned. “Perhaps a reminder of the truth then. CRUCIO!”

The spell erupted from the end of Voldemort’s wand and hurled towards Harry. But as it reached the midway point between the two wands, the light of the spell stopped, and both Harry and Voldemort watched as it evaporated in a small hiss of steam.

“I’ve been practicing,” Harry said smoothly, noting the shocked look on Voldemort’s face. Surprised at his own confidence, he began advancing on the horrid, snakelike creature.

Voldemort lowered his hands in a conciliatory gesture as Harry approached.

“Well, I must say, I never thought that old fool would have ever understood your powers enough to develop them so well. Still, Harry, what are you going to do with those powers once you’ve defeated me, if you actually manage to do so? Surely you it won’t be so easy to give up your place as the most powerful wizard alive, especially since you’ve sacrificed so much to get here. Really, what is the point of having power if not to control others? Will you take my place? Dumbledore’s?”

Harry shrugged. “Haven’t given it much thought, really. Thought I’d play Quidditch for a few years to start,” he replied casually.

Voldemort smiled. “Ah, yes. For the Magpies. I know all about your little hideaway in Montrose. Very cozy, that, for you and your pureblood traitor.”

Harry’s insides froze. He could not imagine how Voldemort knew about their home.

Voldemort only smiled wider. “I have spies all over, Potter. Surely you knew. And speaking of your soul mate, your other half as it were,” the Dark Lord snickered at this, “have you given any thought to how he’s going to take the aftermath of all this? I’m curious as to why you think he’s attached himself to you in the first place.”

“He loves me,” Harry said automatically.

Voldemort laughed out right.

“Oh, you do amuse me. Let’s do be logical. Draco’s father was second in power only to me, at least until he lost his mind. Draco is used to being spoiled and pampered, feared and respected.”

Harry hissed at the sound of Draco’s name falling from Voldemort’s lips.

“Now, think again Harry Potter, why would your arch enemy bind himself to you only after his ever powerful father falls from grace?”

Harry’s steady advance had stopped and his wand hand was now trembling slightly.

“I told you, he loves me. It took getting away from his father to realize it.”

Voldemort laughed again, a high pitched cackle void of any mirth.

“Oh, my, you get more amusing by the second.” The smile disappeared from the Dark Lord’s face at once. “Did it never occur to you that Draco Malfoy is weak? He has lived under the protection of his powerful men his entire life-his father, his uncle Rodolphus, the Death Eaters and Lucius’ associates at the Ministry. He has been so spoiled that he is nothing more than an incredible poof. The only reason he would ever condescend to latch onto a half blood orphan is because, despite his weakness, he is clever and knew you were an easy mark. Easy, but powerful. Really, Potter, do you think that the privileged brat of Malfoy infamy is ever going to be satisfied being the lesser known half to a Quidditch player?”

Voldemort laughed again, as if he’d heard the funniest joke of his life.

“Dear me, Potter, but you are naïve. Perhaps you should reconsider your alliance with him. I know a way to reverse your bonding so the two of you could part. Perhaps we could come to some agreement, you and I, share our power. If you were to join me, why you might be able to entice Draco to stay around a bit longer even. Otherwise, I think it’s only a matter of time before he grows quite bored of you and leaves. That would only kill both of you. So, what say you?”

Harry suddenly felt dizzy and unsure; his confidence was waning rapidly. He took a step backward, Voldemort’s words ringing in his ears and starting to make sense. He had wondered on several occasions just what Draco saw in him. He had been convinced that Draco would refuse him when he asked him to bond to him, and only just yesterday was equally convinced that Draco regretted having said yes. Panic welled inside him and he was having a harder and harder time concentrating. What if the Dark Lord was right?

Harry wiped his brow. “Shut up,” he yelled at Voldemort. He was growing dizzier by the second.

DRACO?! his mind cried as he staggered further away from the Dark Lord.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Outside the side entrance to the small house behind the manor, Draco was arguing with Tonks. She had her hand on his arm trying to prevent him from tearing headlong up the hill to the main house.

“Oh shut up!” he yelled at her. “Can’t you see what he’s done? There’s no one here! Everyone is up there!” he continued, pointing to the main house, which was lit up by the many spells flying through the air. “He sent me down here to keep me safe, stupid bloody prat.”

At this, Draco freed himself of the Auror and started running towards the house, the young Auror at his heels.

Tonks opened her mouth to call after him but was cut off when Draco stopped dead and tilted his head to one side as if listening for something in the distance.

“Harry!” the blonde suddenly yelled and broke into a sprint, leaving her alone and confused.

“Draco! Stop!” she screamed after him as she broke to follow. She tripped over her own two feet, quickly recovered, and took off up the hill.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx

Harry! I’m coming! Hang on!

It was Draco’s voice, ringing loud and clear in Harry’s mind. Immediately, the dizziness he was feeling subsided and he felt like a cool breeze had blown out the nonsense Voldemort had planted there. He turned and refocused on the Dark Lord.

“Shut up, you fucking horror show,” Harry spat. “You wouldn’t know what love was if it danced naked in front of you wearing Dobby’s tea cozy on its head!” he yelled triumphantly, images of Ron reappearing in his mind. “I would rather die a thousand horrible deaths than join you. Draco would never forgive me if I were to do that,” he said, suddenly feeling rather giddy.

Voldemort blanched in anger. “Would you really rather die, Potter? And never feel those soft Malfoy lips again? Hear his pretty little voice? The two of you are disgusting, you know. Lucius threw up when heard that you were having your way with his son.”

Harry just grinned crookedly. “If you’re trying to make me angry, it’s not working,” Harry chided in a singsong voice. He was steadily advancing once again.

Where are you? Draco’s voice rang in his mind.

Harry’s eyebrows knotted in concern. Stay away, love. I’m okay now. I’ll come find you in a minute, he thought back.

“You two can talk to each other now? Very interesting,” Voldemort hissed. “Very powerful bond.”

While Harry was distracted, the Dark Lord slowly raised his wand. Harry noticed at once.

“I know you said you were willing to die a thousand deaths, but is he, Harry? If you go, he does too. Can you take the responsibility for another death, his death?”

Harry’s energy was higher than he had ever felt it. The images of those he loved seemed to dance before him. He smiled sweetly at Voldemort and lowered his wand to his side. He took three more steps forward so that the evil twin of his own wand was vibrating against his heart.

Harry, you dolt, TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!!! Draco’s voice cut through his mind again.

I’m upstairs, last bedroom to the left at the end of the hall. By the time you get here, it will all be over. I LOVE YOU DRACO, ALWAYS AND BEYOND FOREVER!! Harry thought with all his power. Still smiling, he met Voldemort’s eyes.

“Take your best shot,” he whispered to the Dark Lord.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At the foot of the stairs, Draco doubled over and instinctively threw his hands over his ears as Harry’s declaration rang out in his mind.

“Fuck, Potter, you don’t have to yell,” he called up the stairs as he took them two at a time. As his feet hit the landing and he turned towards the bedroom at the end of the hall, a bright green light exploded all around him.

“NOOOOO!” Draco screamed. He closed his eyes and Apparated without any help at all.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry felt the spell tear through him like a freight train, a hundred, no, a thousand times more powerful than when Lucius Malfoy had cursed him. As before, he was completely unaware of his body, or space, or time. He only knew that it was icy, cold beyond cold. He could only feel himself sinking into darkness.

HARRY! Draco’s voice called as his pale face became clear in Harry’s mind. A weak, white light began to burn through the green.

Draco! Stay away! I’m dying, I think Harry answered back, unsure that Draco even heard him the thought was so weak and unfocused.

No, Harry, no! Don’t leave me yet! I’m almost there… Draco was saying back to him.

The white light was growing stronger, melting the green and becoming brighter, clearer. With a thump, Harry fell back into his body and could feel his heart start to beat more steadily. He was aware of something warm running over his face. His head was killing him-it felt like it had been cleaved in two. He was vaguely aware that the door to the bedroom had burst open and a brilliant light was spilling into the room from that direction. All traces of green had disappeared.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

No, Harry, no! Don’t leave me yet! I’m almost there…

These were Draco’s thoughts as he staggered into the door where he had just appeared. He was almost blinded by internal darkness and fear; he could feel Harry slipping away from him and knew it wouldn’t be long before he followed his mate into the abyss. Far away in the distance of his mind, an old archway appeared with a veil softly fluttering as if blown by a breeze. He pushed the vision away and focused on Harry and the promise he had made to him. If Harry was going to die, he wasn’t going to do it alone.

“Almost there, Harry, almost there,” he panted as his palm landed flatly on the door and he pushed it open with a violent thrust.

He felt his strength rush back and the darkness in his mind started to recede. He saw Harry at last, face and hair drenched in blood that was pouring from his scar, swaying weakly before the Dark Lord. Draco moved forward without a thought for himself, determined to rip that cackling creature apart with his bare hands for hurting Harry. Growling and lunging forward, he was suddenly knocked backward by an explosion of green light that came from Harry’s body.

Draco had been unconscious when the Killing Curse had been rebounded onto his father the day he tried to kill him, so at first, he didn’t understand what was happening. He moaned like an animal caught in a trap, thinking he was witnessing Harry’s destruction at the hands of Voldemort’s spell. Only when the light surrounded the Dark Lord and he started screaming in a high pitched wail and his skin started to smolder did Draco realize what was truly occurring. He lifted himself on shaky legs and scrambled toward Harry.

Voldemort seemed to be burning up from the inside. His ears, nose and mouth were leaking smoke and his eyes had turned a hideous, ashy black. There was a horrible stench in the room, on that Draco vividly remembered from his own experience, the smell of burning flesh. Unable to help himself, he watched the last moments of the most powerful evil wizard that had ever lived with disgust and awe.

It was dramatic. The creature that was Voldemort burned and shrieked, finally falling in a smoky heap to the ground. Small flames erupted all over his robes and Draco watched as a strange, silvery substance seemed to float through the resulting holes. Before much longer, the body started imploding and evaporating into stinky shafts of thick, black ash. Within fifteen minutes, the only traces of the dark wizard were the columns of ash swirling in the air and a large scorch mark on the floor where he had fallen.

“Draco,” Harry croaked. Draco turned just in time to see Harry fall to the ground, first to his knees, then forward onto his chest. Because Harry had fallen, Draco fell too, but managed to remain conscious. He crawled the last few feet to Harry’s side, through the hot mark on the floor, and fell over the body of his mate.

“Just made it, love,” he whispered as the world went black around him.

Chapter Text

Tonks rushed into the living room where Dumbledore, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley were talking to Ministry officials about the best way to move all the Death Eaters that sat, bound and gagged, on the living room floor. Upstairs, they heard a loud explosion and stopped talking at once.

“Dumbledore!” the pink haired wizard cried. “It’s Draco! He’s gone upstairs with Harry, where that explosion just came from, I think!”

Before any of the men could make a move, Molly Weasley sprang up from the St. Mungo’s stretcher where she was having a rather bad burn on her arm attended to and made for the stairs.

The men quickly followed her, Remus Lupin in the lead, cradling a broken wrist.

“Remus, try to catch her! I don’t want her walking in on something she can’t handle!”
Dumbledore called after the much younger and quicker man. Remus sped wolf-like up the stairs.

He saw Molly running the length of the hall at top speed. He wasn’t going to catch her.

“Molly!” he called frantically, hoping to stop her. It was as if she didn’t even hear him so he stopped running and Apparated to the spot right behind her.

Even Apparating was too slow. His fingertips brushed the back of her robes as she pushed her way through the slightly open door. No sooner had she entered than a horrible shriek rang out.

Lupin shoved in behind her. His heart dropped at the sight of her throwing her body in a maternally protective stance over the two fallen boys. He could see now way that they were alive; blood was everywhere he looked. Molly Weasley covered them the best she could and wailed like a woman possessed.

Dumbledore Apparated next to Lupin and marched to where Molly and the two boys lay. He reached down, and after gently pushing Molly aside, put his fingers to the pulse points on Draco’s wrist, then his neck.

He raised his head sharply. “Get a Healer up here immediately! Draco is still alive, which I hope means Harry is too! Hurry!”

Lupin raised his wand and said the appropriate Aid Spell. Mediwitches, wizards and two Healers appeared at once.

Arthur Weasley arrived and was trying to pry Molly away from Harry’s blood soaked body. He was unsuccessful until one of the Mediwizards dropped to his knees next to Harry and began checking his vital signs.

“He’s alive, but he’s lost a lot of blood,” the young mediwizard called. Dumbledore and a Healer exchanged quick glances.

Dumbledore crouched next to Draco once again and grabbed the blonde’s hand.

“Give me knife,” he demanded.

The medical staff looked at him strangely and made no move to obey.

“Give me a knife!” he shouted. “They’re bonded, I think I know how to help!”

At once, the Healer handed him a razor sharp scalpel.

Dumbledore cut into Draco’s palm without hesitation, following along his original bonding scar. He then grabbed Harry’s hand and did the same. Working quickly, he pushed their hands together, aligning their scars, and waited. For what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened as he pressed their two hands between his own. Then suddenly, their two hands clamped together in a tight grip as if they were awake and hanging on to one another for dear life.

The mediwizard continued to check Harry’s statistics. After a few seconds, he lifted his head and grinned at Dumbledore.

“He’s improving,” he said in wonder.

Dumbledore sat back on his heels and sighed in relief. “I think it’s best that we don’t separate them at all. They need each other,” he said as a new mediwitch arrived and started cleaning Harry’s face. She was carefully looking for the wounds that could have caused such an extreme blood loss and gasped when she happened upon his scar. It had burst open and now hung in a lighting bolt shaped flap open to the skull. The mediwizard and witch began chanting healing spells over it at once.

After they were stabilized, Harry and Draco were lifted onto one stretcher and Apparated back to the hospital. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley immediately followed. Dumbledore and Lupin consulted briefly with the Healer, then went back downstairs to finish up their business with the Ministry, who were still arresting Death Eaters, before joining them at St. Mungo’s.

Once at the hospital, the four elder Order members waited on edge for news of Harry and Draco’s condition. Hours passed before the Healer finally approached them with news.

“Other than the scar on Harry’s forehead and a few minor bruises, nothing seems to be wrong with either of them. Draco is completely unscathed. However, they are both in a deep coma-like state, but we are getting all kinds of brain activity. There is nothing we do now but wait and hope they come out of it,” he told them.

Mrs. Weasley sank in her chair and wept, Arthur at her side. Lupin sat back in his chair and stared helplessly at the ceiling of the waiting room.

Dumbledore stood and shook the Healer’s hand. “Thank you,” he said before turning to the others. “I am going to Hogwarts to get Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. I have a feeling that they are awaiting news of their friends almost as anxiously as we are. I will be back as soon as possible. If they should wake up,” he said, looking seriously over the rim of his glasses, “try to find out exactly what happened in that room.”

The others nodded in agreement and settled in for the wait.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxx

Harry awoke with a horrible cramp in his right hand and a rather bad headache. He reached up with his left hand to rub his head and groaned softly. Beside him, Draco answered with a groan of his own. Harry’s eyes fluttered open. Wherever they were, it was pitch black and they were lying in a small bed together. Harry could tell right away that it was no bed that they had ever been in before.

“Where are we?” he whispered to Draco, unsure of how loud he should speak. He was a little scared not knowing where they were.

“St. Mungo’s!” Draco answered loudly. “I’d remember these horrible sheets any day!” he griped, wriggling around in the bed. “And let go of my bloody hand, will you? I can’t feel a thing!”

Harry realized that his hand had stopped cramping and was numb as well. He pried their fingers apart and shook his hand vigorously. At once, a bright overhead light blared on. Both he and Draco squinted their eyes against it.

Mrs. Weasley was standing at the foot of their bed, staring at them as if they were figments of her imagination.

“Harry? Draco? Are you really awake?” she whispered.

Harry and Draco smiled at her. They looked at each other, smiled more broadly, then looked back at Mrs. Weasley again. Next to the bed on Draco’s side, Hermione’s head, bushier than usual from sleep, and Ron’s rumpled carrot top appeared. They had identical looks of disbelief.

“Please, say something if you’re really awake,” Mrs. Weasley begged.

“Something,” Draco drawled, totally amused by everyone’s awe and concern. “Can someone get me some water? My mouth tastes like a dragon shit in it,” he added with a yawn.

Harry turned and scrunched up his face in disgust. “Well that is gross. How do you know what dragon shit tastes like, anyway?” he teased.

Draco smirked at him. “From kissing you in the morning before you brush your teeth, of course,” he said with fake sweetness.

Harry grabbed him and forced his tongue into the struggling blonde’s mouth as everyone else could only continue to stare.

“Hermione, go get a Healer,” Mrs. Weasley said, still whispering. Hermione got up and sped out of the room.

Draco finally managed to pull away from Harry. “You’re bloody disgusting, you know that, Potter?” he growled.

Harry just snickered. He met Ron’s eyes, as Ron was still looking at him and Draco as if they were from a different planet.

“What is it, Ron? You’ve seen us kiss a million times,” Harry said in a slightly peevish voice. “And what are we doing at St. Mungo’s?”

Ron launched himself at his best friend, burying his face in Harry’s dirty hair and squeezing Harry’s face into his chest.

“We thought you weren’t going to wake up,” Ron answered, voice thick with emotion.

“What are you talking about?” Harry demanded, though he was barely audible through Ron’s chest.

Beside him, Draco’s face dawned in horrible remembrance.

“Oh shit, Harry! Don’t you remember? We almost died!” He looked to Mrs. Weasley. “How long have we been asleep?”

“Nearly a week,” she answered.

Draco looked to Harry, who had gone rigid next to him. Harry grabbed his hand again and his eyes were bulging unpleasantly. Fortunately, this reaction only lasted a moment, then his face softened into a smile as he turned to Draco.

“Yeah, I remember. We did almost die, but saved us. I remember!”

As the two boys were reliving the last moments they remembered together, Hermione returned with two Healers and four nurses. She, Mrs. Weasley and Ron were asked to leave while the doctors did thorough examinations of both Harry and Draco. They were all allowed to return two hours later, but the two boys had fallen back to sleep by then, worn out by the Healer’s poking and prodding. Because of this, it was the next morning before the world learned that Harry had finally defeated the Dark Lord.

Chapter Text

The news of Voldemort’s defeat caused a huge celebration throughout the wizarding world. People held street parties, threw huge festivals, and put on parades. There was a very public demand to have the day of Voldemort’s defeat and Harry’s birthday declared official holidays in the wizarding world. The Ministry was seriously considering it, but had not had time to do anything official, as they were working overtime to modify the memories of all the Muggles who had stumbled upon the many magical celebrations.

Harry and Draco had been released from the hospital two days after they had woken up and returned to Hogwarts. The school had been overrun with media trying to get photos and interviews with Harry, who of course was having none of it. All he really wanted to do was lie low until the last month of school was over and get to Montrose, away from it all.

Draco’s very important role in the defeat of the Dark Lord was only known by the boy’s closest friends and Draco was perfectly fine with that. The way Harry was being hounded appealed to him not at all. He was being bothered too, being that he was married to the hero of the wizarding world, but not nearly on the scale that Harry was. Draco could at least leave their apartment without causing a riot to break out among the reporters stationed just outside the Hogwarts gates.

Harry and Draco spent most of their last month at Hogwarts either in the Gryffindor common room with Hermione and Ron or in their apartment with Hermione and Ron. Harry helped his friends and mate study for their finals, as he was exempt from taking them, and made sure they stayed healthy by cooking for them each night. Despite their busy schedules, the last month seemed to have taken forever to end.

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Draco lay on their hammock, a book open on his chest, watching Harry dig around in his garden. He had been out there for hours and was sunburned and filthy. Draco sighed happily, watching the muscles in Harry’s smooth, brown back work as he pulled weeds and patted dirt around new plants. Watching Harry do manual labor was one of Draco’s favorite activities, though he rarely participated. Something about a dirty, sweaty Harry had always appealed to him.

It was two weeks before Harry’s seventeenth birthday and Draco and Ron had been making plans for at least a month. Ron was living in their guesthouse until next year when Hermione joined him in Montrose to live. They had finally gotten engaged at an end of school party at the Burrow a month before-Ron had spent his entire advance check from the Magpies on a ring so huge that Hermione was actually embarrassed by it, though she would never tell him. She had said yes, of course. She had even been thinking of moving to Montrose with Ron and finishing her last year of schooling with private tutors until she got the letter appointing her Head Girl. Needless to say, she was unwilling to pass up that honor.

Both Harry and Ron’s training had started, and both of them were doing better than expected. The Magpies had all but promised they were going to win the European Cup this year now that Harry was their Seeker-he was unstoppable. The team was having an extremely hard time keeping the media away from practices, as Harry had still never come forth about what had happened the night he killed Voldemort and everyone was still anxious to hear about it from the hero himself. The Magpies were more concerned with spies trying to get a look at his moves on the field. It was suspected that Ron would move up to the main team as early as next season, and the media was making a huge deal out of that as well. He and Harry were practically brothers, after all.

Despite all the madness in the outside world, their little house in Montrose was a cozy shield from it all. They had guards at the front entrance of their property and Dumbledore, Harry and Draco had spent an entire day enchanting the forests around the rest of the place to scramble the minds of anyone who did not have permission to be there so that the intruder would become lost and circle back to where they began. As of yet, no one had made it past these enchantments. As far as Harry and Draco were concerned, they were just a perfectly normal couple going about the business of life.

Right now, however, Draco was becoming disenchanted with merely watching Harry. He was a bit tired of being ignored in favor of a heap of dirt and some silly plants.

“Haaaarrrrrrryyyyyyy!” he whined out loud. “How much longer are you going to be out there? You’ve been digging around all day! You’re filthy! I’m bored! Hurry up!”

Harry looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Draco, do you have to always be such a brat? I am almost done! Now shut it!”

On the porch, Draco threw his book on the ground and kicked his feet, having a patented Malfoy fit. Harry rolled his eyes at him as Draco grew still, crossed his arms over his chest, and pouted at his black haired mate.

“Fine. Baby,” Harry shouted, wiping his hands on his cutoffs and making his way up to the porch. Draco flashed a victorious smile and made room in the hammock for Harry.

Harry plopped down next to them, causing the hammock to sway dangerously, and crooked an arm around Draco, who snuggled up as closely as he could. He was at once overcome by Harry’s scent-saltwater taffy, thunderstorms and sweat. He felt his pulse quicken and wondered idly if he’d ever get tired of being this close to Harry.

“You better not,” Harry teased and kissed him on his forehead. Draco smiled lazily. He was still learning to shut off his thoughts to Harry, and one or two occasionally got out whether he intended for them to or not.

The two of them had recovered remarkably well from their brush with death. Draco was completely unaffected by it, having lived his entire life in the shadow of darkness until last year. Harry outwardly showed no trauma, except that his scar was now a thick raised, twisted mass of lighting bolt shaped skin instead of smooth scar. But he was secretly haunted by the things Voldemort had said to him about Draco. Thinking of this now, he turned to face him.

Draco smiled up at him and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “What?” he asked.

“Will you always love me, even when I’m not some big hero anymore?” Harry asked as he looked down at he and Draco’s hands lying entwined on his bare stomach. They were so different-Draco’s fingers were long, thin and alabaster white, while Harry’s were tanned, muscular, and at the moment, encrusted in dirt.

Draco waited until Harry looked up at him before he spoke. “I will always love you, you dolt. I don’t care what anyone else thinks of you. You’re mine! Bugger everyone else.” He couldn’t help but smile at the happiness his words brought to Harry. Here he was, savior of the wizarding world, the most loved figure in an age, worried that Draco was going to someday fall out of love with him. It was too adorable.

“And you’ll never leave me?” Harry asked, playing bashful again.

Draco pulled himself on top of Harry and kissed the raised scar in the center of his forehead. “You complete and utter prat, I can’t leave you. We’d both die,” he answered.

Harry lay back and looked up into Draco’s eyes. “I know, but what if that weren’t true? Would you still never leave me?”

Draco’s eyes were darkening into smoky storm clouds. Harry’s insides fluttered-he was all too familiar with what that meant. He wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and raised his head so that their lips met.

I would never leave you Harry, Draco thought as the two kissed, the sun sinking behind them. I would rather die than ever leave you. Don’t you know that?

Harry ran his hands down to Draco’s hips and pulled him into his own. Both of them moaned softly. I know, Harry thought, I just like to hear you say it.

Draco pressed himself more firmly against Harry, enjoying the way the sweat on Harry’s body made him slightly slippery to the touch. “I think we’d better go inside,” he breathed to Harry, “I doubt Ron would like it much if he came up here and found us shagging on the front porch,” he mumbled against Harry’s neck.

Harry lifted Draco’s face so that their eyes met once again. “We’re really free now, you know? No more Dark Lords, no more evil fathers, no more saving the world. We can just be us now. This can really be the rest of our lives,” Harry said to him, his emerald eyes sparkling in the dying sun.

Draco leaned forward and licked a drop of sweat that was rolling down Harry’s throat. Harry gasped. “That’s a lovely sentiment, Potter, but right now I’d like to just be the Draco Malfoy that’s shagging you rotten. Can we please go inside and take care of that, then worry about the rest of our lives?”

Harry nodded firmly and he and Draco stood from the hammock. Harry followed Draco to the front door, watching the graceful way Draco moved, amazed at the natural elegance that permeated even the most subtle movements of his mate. He reached out and grabbed him around the waist and pulled him roughly back into him.

“I love you, Draco,” he said fiercely.

“Then show me, Harry. Come on,” Draco replied breathlessly as he pulled Harry up the stairs. The house was soon filled with their contented sighs and moans.