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Chapter Text

The night of Fred Weasley’s funeral was the biggest gathering The Burrow had seen since Bill and Fleur’s wedding. True, the attendees more often dissolved into tears than laughter, but it was done in the spirit Fred would have wanted. People turned into canaries left and right and more than one person was missing a head. When what Arthur Weasley picked up what he thought was his wand and it turned into a rubber chicken, he and Molly Weasley fell into each other’s arms, laughter evident even in their sorrow.

George stood unsteadily, tears coursing down his cheeks as he gave the toast.

“Freddie was my other half. He was the joy and spark behind every one of our pranks... He has left us, for now, but we can keep him alive... Remember him, in every misdeed… Remember him, in every laugh… And Freddie, wherever you are, mischief managed.” George was enveloped in a rough hug by Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor that had been Fred's date to the Yule Ball. She patted George's back even as she sobbed in his arms.

It was a short, heartfelt speech and everyone finished their drink at the end. Harry coughed as the firewhiskey burned a path down his esophagus. He felt his own heart break in echo of the pain and pride on every face, surveying the many faces before him. All of Dumbledore's Army was here, what was left of the Order of the Phoenix, and the friends of Fred and George's that had left the school before the war. Yet all of these guests were small compared to the ocean of red hair soaking the very walls of The Burrow.

Harry averted his eyes and made eye contact with the one red-haired person he had been avidly avoiding since returning to The Burrow. Ginny. She cocked her head at him and nodded at the kitchen.

Giving Hermione’s shoulder a squeeze, he let her know he was leaving her with Ron. She gave an absent nod as Ron began recounting the tale of getting back into the Chamber of Secrets with some DA members. Ron was more unsteady than usual, but Harry could hardly fault his best mate for getting three sheets to the wind on the eve of his brother’s wake.

He stood, his knees creaking in protest after having sat for so long. He wondered, for the hundredth time that day, when the hell he had gotten so old. Maybe it had something to do with dying. He’d have to ask Hermione.

Marshalling his focus, he pulled himself back into the moment just as he followed Ginny through the kitchen and out the back door. She led him away from the partygoers, through the magically enhanced garden. They walked silently, the night getting darker and darker the further they walked. The wards warped around him as he left their protective bubble.

They stopped in a small clearing, the party a quiet murmur in the background. Harry looked up at the brilliant stars glittering as only happens in the countryside. He found a few he knew, Sirius first of all. Shortly he found himself picking out Eltanin and Rastaban. He smirked to himself, mentally tracing the rest of Draco’s constellation spread across the night sky.

“Harry,” Ginny said quietly, from much closer than he expected. He looked down to find her soft brown eyes gazing up at him. He merely returned the gaze, staring back at her. He was reaching, reaching for any hint of the warmth he had once felt for her. She lifted one hand up and brushed his cheek with freckled fingers. She wound her fingers into his nape and pulled his face down.

She snogged him soundly, he could taste the fear and desperation on her lips. He knew how much she had missed him those long months in that very taste of her tongue on his. Yet in that moment, he felt nothing. Nothing more than a sort of awkward affection for the girl he had left behind and a vague sense of wrongness.

Gasping, he pushed her back, his hands on her shoulders.

“Ginny, I’m so sorry,” he started.

“Don’t bother,” she said roughly on a ragged breath. “Let’s go back. Just give me a few minutes.”

He stood silently as she turned her back to him and flicked a few tears from her face.

Together they walked silently back to the Burrow, until faint booms blossomed in the distance. With an uneasy glance at each other, they broke into a run. Their wands were quickly grasped in palms. They pounded up the path, breath coming in short gasps. They crested the knoll of trees and stopped dead, wands at the ready.

There, on the horizon, the Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-Bangs were lighting up the valley. They stopped, clutching their sides, as red and gold sparks spun in giant Catherine wheels. Laughing at themselves and each other, they loped down the hill back into the revelry. Almost everyone was outside watching the show.

Harry peeled away from Ginny as he caught sight of Hermione sitting, watching the fireworks alone on the edge of the group.

“Hey, ‘Mione,” he panted as he pulled up to her. Her glance had flicked to him once as he approached and now returned to watching the enchanted fireworks. He wasn’t sure but her eyes seemed larger than usual.

“You okay?” He asked, flopping to the ground beside her. She didn’t answer right away, and he flung a Silencing Charm around them.

An industrial strength Silencing Charm had become his specialty after the first week of waking everyone in the Burrow with his shouting. One did not need to be shaken out of a nightmare by a concerned Molly Weasley wearing a dressing gown and nothing else. It had happened a half dozen times before a thoroughly mortified Harry finally dragged Hermione away from Ron’s embrace long enough to teach him the spell. Ron, in his defense, had slept next to Harry for seven years and now slept through Harry’s screams entirely unaided.

“I, er, I’m not sure what…” Hermione began. Immediately Harry was on guard, he had never seen her this lost for words.

“What happened?” Harry asked tersely.

“Ron… He, um, disappeared,” Hermione said-

“We have to go find him!” Harry exclaimed, his heart resuming its furious pumping. His adrenaline, so recently calmed, spiked again.

“No, we don’t,” Hermione said, grabbing his hand as he tried to rise.

“What do you mean, ‘Mione?” Harry asked, sinking back onto his knees, clutching her hand in return.

“I already know where he is,” she began, her fingers trembling in his. “He went to the loo after his story, after you left with Ginny. At first, I didn’t really think about it. Everyone needs the loo when they’re drinking, right? But then ten minutes became twenty and I started to worry. I went looking. He wasn’t in the loo. But there is someone in his room. Someone with a girl that isn’t me.”

“Oh, ‘Mione,” Harry started, reaching out a shaking hand to rub her back

“Don’t, Harry. Just don’t.” Hermione started sobbing, the emotions of the day finally catching up with the strongest witch he knew.

“What can I do?” Harry asked desperately, jerking his hand back. “Do you need me to go punch him in the knob?”

“Can we leave? Maybe go to Grimmauld Place? I just can’t face him right now,” Hermione pleaded, “I know you have Ginny, but I just need some space.”

“No, ‘Mione,” and her face fell, “I don’t have Ginny. Let’s go. You go get your stuff and I’ll get mine. Fuck interrupting them.”

“Er, I already have our stuff. I’ve kept everything close,” she shook the small beaded bag, “probably some Mind Healer could explain why I still need a backup plan after winning a war.”

“Too right,” Harry said, deciding not to comment on her lack of faith in Ron. Ron had left them first after all, during the hunt.

…

The next morning, Harry woke up with a terrific hangover. He blearily peeled his eyes open, fingers groping to find his glasses. Instead he found a warm body. Hermione. In shock, he resumed his search with vigor.

“Hermione, what the fuck happened last night?”

“We drank. A lot,” she mumbled into the pillow.

“No, I mean, why are we in bed together?” Harry asked, finally finding his glasses on the bedside table. Thankfully, they were both dressed. In fact, Harry was sleeping on top of the covers, creating another barrier between them. He didn’t think anything had happened, but he needed to be sure.

“You told me about the nightmares,” Hermione began, rolling over to face him. Her curly hair was strewn across the pillowcase. Suddenly, it all came rushing back.

They had burst through the Grimmauld Place hearth and Hermione had flung herself upstairs, sobbing wildly about the inconsistencies of men.

Hermione had tumbled back down the stairs some half hour after her dramatic exit and proceeded to drag Harry into the parlor. She had then demanded that they get terrifically sloshed. They had raided the expensive bar, Hermione claiming it was for therapeutic purposes all the while. Then they had talked, really talked for the first time since the Battle of Hogwarts, as everyone called it. Harry confessed to his panic attacks and how holding things tightly in his grasp was the only thing that helped. Hermione showed him the scar on her arm that she hadn’t been able to heal with any of the regular spells. Harry took a deep swill of firewhiskey at that.

“So, how often do you have nightmares?” Hermione had asked.

“Every night,” Harry had confessed slowly, picking at the worn tassel on the throw pillow in his lap. “If it’s not the torture, it’s the Fiendfyre, or the forest, or sometimes it’s Snape’s memories and I wake up crying.”

“I get them too,” Hermione had said softly, staring into her tumbler. “It helps to sleep next to someone. Ginny told me.”

“How would Ginny know?” Harry had questioned, his mind struggling with the thought under the weight of all the confessions and alcohol.

“Harry, you didn’t really expect her to wait around for you last year, did you?” Hermione had asked gently, “She figured it out while the Carrows were torturing anyone that looked sideways and the DA were holed up in the Room of Requirement. She told me, after you had the first nightmare that woke us. She said, ‘it was so much easier when I could sleep next to someone.’ A few days later she told me the rest.”

Harry had sat there in shock for a bit. Not so much that Ginny had been sleeping with other people, he had been the one to break things off. No, it was more that during a war she had found the time and energy to find comfort in another’s arms. Not even Ron and Hermione had found it appropriate and they three were living in a tent in the middle of bloody nowhere, for fuck's sake! Mostly Harry was just annoyed that once again other people got to live their lives and he was stuck, a sad virgin with panic attacks and nightmares.

But still, none of that explained why a very irritated looking Hermione was laying in his bed. Then he blinked. This wasn’t Sirius’s room.

“Where are we?” Harry asked roughly, his throat still feeling the effects of the firewhiskey.

Hermione’s voice caught, “This is me and Ron’s room. When we came here during the hunt, this is where we slept.”

Harry looked around with fresh eyes and saw the telltale marks of Hermione’s spellwork everywhere. From the duvet that was red and gold, obviously not usual colors in the Black family home, to the perfectly clean bookcase. True, most of the books were probably full of Dark magic, but one could never accuse Hermione of abusing a book.

“So, what, I crashed in your room?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione said cuttingly. “You were crying about your nightmares, so I brought you in here. Then you started shouting that you would never, ever, sleep with me, which, by the way, rude. I finally convinced you to sleep on top of the blanket.”

“’Mione, you might be right,” Harry ignored her muttered I’m always right, “I didn’t have a nightmare.”

“Harry, just summon the hangover potion. My head is killing me,” Hermione mumbled from the depths of the pillow.

Harry almost groaned in pleasure at the thought. “Accio hangover potion!” He grabbed the two phials that came soaring through the open door. “Thank fuck you’re the brightest witch of our age, ‘Mione.”

Just then a crash came echoing up through the hallway.

“Blood traitor! Filth! Begone from this noble and most ancient house!” The shriek of Sirius’s mother’s portrait carried all the way up to Hermione’s room.

“Shut up, you old hag!” Ron’s voice carried up the stairs.

Harry twitched forward, ready to leap to his feet and kick the living daylights out of the betraying bastard. A hand on his bicep stopped him. He looked down at Hermione, and she merely shook her head.

"Hermione! ‘Mione! Are you here? The Floo was blocked!” Harry had a vague memory of firing a locking spell as soon as the conversation had turned serious and it became obvious Ron wasn’t going to show up that night. “I’m so sorry love! Please come back!”

A red headed cannon ball careened into Hermione’s bedroom, ricocheting off the wall before righting himself with a strangled, “ouch!”

“Hermione.” Ron began and stopped dead at the sight of Harry and Hermione in bed together. He gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“Yes, Ron?” Hermione said in a frigid tone.

“What are you doing in bed with him?” Ron asked.

“Nothing. What were you doing in your own bed last night?” Hermione asked while Harry tried to get out of the line of fire as inconspicuously as possible.

“N-nothing…” Ron turned an impressive shade of tomato.

“We must have different definitions of the word,” Hermione said. She flicked a finger, and her wand came soaring wordlessly into her grasp. “Leave, before I hex you.”

“No, Hermione! I love you! Last night was nothing, I was drunk! It was my brother’s funeral!” Ron was quickly losing the red in his face in favor of a freckled porcelain.

“Those are excuses. I don’t want to hear any more,” her hand flicked again, a strange swirl Harry didn’t recognize. Whatever it was, it worked. Ron paled further and yelped, jumping back a few feet. “I’m not warning you again,” she said in a soft, deadly voice.

“Merlin’s saggy tits, ‘Mione, just talk to me!”

Hermione merely gave him a look that said no as she spun her wand in a complicated fashion that Harry had no hope of following.

Ron yelped, and his entire body turned purple with the thick black letters CHEAT spelled across his forehead.

“Go back to Lavender, you obviously care more for her than you ever did for me.”

“What! It isn’t Lav”-

“If you lie, the hex becomes a curse and permanent.” Hermione said in a voice as deadly as a Killing Curse. Ron fell silent. “As it is, it will fade, eventually.”

Ron turned and barreled back down the stairs, shouting irritably.

An hour later, Harry and Hermione were laughing over their porridge, that being the only edible thing in the house.

“You had him! You had him dead to rights! Would it really have turned permanent?” Harry wanted to know.

“Well, you see, the problem with turning a hex into a curse based on a lie means you have to know the truth when you cast the spell. I didn’t know for sure it was Lavender, so if it had been anyone else, it wouldn’t have turned. But I had a feeling. I mean, they’ve already slept together.”

“How did you know that?” Harry asked quickly. Was there some sort of virgin sign boys made that he had missed and was making as a result?

“Lavender told Parvati. It made its way through the Gryffindor girls after that. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you,” Hermione took a sip of tea.

“No one tells me anything,” Harry complained.

Just as Harry was about to get a head of steam for always being left out, he was interrupted. Tap, tap, tap.

“Is that an owl?” Hermione asked, gesturing with her spoon.

Harry looked and saw the owl in question tapping the glass with its beak as it clung to the sill. He rose and crossed the kitchen to fling the window open. The owl fell back, and then screeched horribly, flying back into the room. It clipped Harry around the head as it passed, landing on the back of Harry’s chair. It stuck its leg out importantly. Harry rubbed his head distractedly and took the letter. The owl sprang off the chair and flung itself back though the open window before Harry could even break the seal on the scroll in front of him.

“Who is it from?” Hermione asked in a vaguely amused voice.

“The Minister,” Harry answered as he broke the seal. “Malfoy’s trial is set for next week. His mother’s is the next day.” Harry said as he read.

“Er, why is the minister letting you know when Malfoy’s trial is being held?” Hermione asked.

“I was planning on testifying.” Harry said shortly.

“For or against?” Hermione said in the softest voice he had ever heard her use.

“For. Malfoy didn’t identify us that day in the manor, and he didn’t kill Dumbledore when pressed. But I don’t know Hermione, he used Unforgivables.” Harry said, torn.

“We did too.” Hermione said simply. “I get you wanting to save him, he had less choice than you and you had to pretend to be dead.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, awash in a gratitude he didn’t fully understand.

“You don’t have to thank me, Harry,” Hermione said softly.

Chapter Text

Draco woke the morning of his trial shaking. The holding cells were warmer than Azkaban but still cold. His thin prisoner’s robes let the icy chill of his cot seep into his bones. His face hurt. The night before, the auror in charge of his care had ‘looked away’ as other aurors had vented their frustrations on his skinny frame. He was sure he had a few fractured ribs and his left cheekbone had broken with a definitive crack. Still, he had borne it as well as he could. He knew he deserved it. In the end he had been left crying, curled in on himself.

The aurors had left eventually, but not before one spat on him with a muttered, ‘Death Eater scum.’

He had lain there for long painful minutes before gently pulling himself onto the cot and wrapping himself in the scratchy blanket for the illusion of security it provided.

“Up! Get up! Now!” The auror screeched with a rap to the bars on his window.

“I’m up.” Draco murmured as he shucked his thin blanket off. He quickly shook his fatigue, rubbing his thighs with both hands.

“On your knees with your hands behind your back!”

Draco complied, his heart in his throat. This was the day he would learn his fate. Azkaban or the Kiss? He didn’t dare pretend to himself that he would get off. He was guilty, and everyone knew it.

“Incarcerous!” the auror intoned as Draco’s hands wound together behind his back.

Draco followed the auror silently. That was a trick he learned back in fifth year, when the Dark Lord had first moved into the manor. Follow silently and you might be left unnoticed.

They passed through halls clad in dark marble, footsteps echoing in the silence. He shivered in fear. Every step jarred his aching muscles, even breathing was painful. At least you’re breathing, for now his unhelpful brain supplied pleasantly.

They turned a corner and found a set of aurors guarding a large black door. The door to the Wizengamot. Draco may not have been told the details of his trial, but seeing the door confirmed his own pessimistic thoughts. The Wizengamot weren’t called for small trials. It looked like his was to be something of a spectacle. That meant they were going to make an example of him. The Kiss, then. Draco found himself idly wondering what it would be like to live without his soul. He probably wouldn’t realize anything was happening to him.

It might be like oblivion, Draco hoped fiercely. Then this horrific farce that was his life could be over.

“Seriously?” The lead auror asked the one bringing Draco. Draco snapped back into the moment to realize the aurors were arguing about something. The one that had brought him was shifting on his feet.

“He’s just a fucking Death Eater,” his guard mumbled.

“Who is going in front of the entire Wizengamot. The press is here! You think this is gonna make the department look good?” His auror mumbled something in response, as the lead pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, bollocks, is anyone decent at healing spells?”

“I can do it,” a small, pale witch said, striding up through the ranks. She looked vaguely familiar as she pointed her wand directly at his face, and he tried not to flinch. He felt his bones knit back together and the swelling went down enough he could see out of his left eye again. He wished she would heal the rest of him, but it looked like all they cared about was what might be photographed.

“Alright, form up, let’s take him in,” was barked as the group moved to surround him.

What did they think he was going to do that warranted half a dozen aurors guarding him? Suddenly start throwing Unforgivable Curses without his wand?

He pulled his best haughty mask on, staring forward in disdain as they shuffled around him.

They pulled open the door, directing him forward. He kept his head high, feeling the weight of every eye on his shoulders. He had done horrid things before; he could do this as well. A little public humiliation was nothing compared to torture.

The spell holding his hands behind his back was cancelled just as they reached the huge stone chair. Draco sat, and manacles wound themselves around his thin wrists. He tried to listen to the barristers, but his traitorous brain resisted for most of the opening arguments. His mind went in circles, Azkaban or Kiss, Azkaban or Kiss? On the one hand he would live, on the other he wouldn’t. He honestly couldn’t decide which he would prefer at this point. He could live behind bars, reliving the worst moments of his life; or he could lose his soul.

“And now, we call upon Harry Potter for his testimony.” Draco felt his focus snap back onto the trial as he saw Potter stand and step forward.

Potter had filled out slightly since the Battle. His biceps strained in his robes. His vivid green eyes shone through his flashing glasses. His skin, so pale before, had tanned back to its natural warm brown. The inky black mop, aching to be mussed, was as unmanageable as ever. Draco drank the sight in. He had denied himself for so long, with the threat of the Dark Lord above him. Now, he was on the eve of the end of his life and nothing could tear his gaze away.

“In your own words, please describe the defendant’s role in the war,” Draco must be mistaken, he thought it was his own barrister asking the question, but that would mean Potter was testifying on his behalf.

“Malfoy-Draco,” Potter quickly corrected himself, “saved my life. Hermione, Ron, and I were caught by Snatchers and brought to the Manor. Hermione had placed a Stinging Hex on my face, so I wasn’t immediately recognizable. Ma-Draco was asked to identify me. I know he recognized me, but he refused to say it was me. He saved my life.”

“How do you know he recognized you, if your face was altered?” His barrister asked and Draco wanted to jinx her. Of course, he recognized Potter, you didn’t spend six years staring at a bastard to not know the exact shade of asphodel leaves his eyes were.

“Ron and Hermione looked the same. My face may have been swollen but I had the same coloring.” Potter gestured at his own face. “I saw his eyes; he knew who I was.”

“Alright, what happened then?” the barrister asked gently.

Draco hardly listened to Potter’s fantastic tale of Dobby coming to the rescue, instead focusing on drinking in the sight of Potter before him. He was every inch the teenaged Savior. Muscled yet lean, not an ounce of baby fat on his bones. His gaze was powerful and commanding, his voice resonating.

What a change a year could make, Draco pondered. Here he was, thinner than ever, the trembling of his hands evident as he grasped the arms of his chair. Potter was good and fit and everything Draco could never be or obtain.

“Do you have anything else to add?” his barrister was asking politely.

“Yes. Draco also gave me his wand, he could have fought to keep it and instead basically handed it to me.” Potter said. “That wand saved us all, it was the wand I used to kill Voldemort.”

Draco flinched, inadvertently. His wand being with Potter was something he avoided thinking about if he could help it. He had been sharing with his mother for months. His mother was the only one in his family with a wand left by the end of the war and while she was gracious about the borrowing of it, he still felt guilty using it for longer than a few hours. And then he had lost it in the Battle.

“Our questioning is over, thank you.” His barrister said, her small head bowing politely.

The other barrister stood up.

“Do you deny that Draco Malfoy is a Death Eater?” he barked, jowls quivering.

“I do,” Potter said strongly. Draco stared at him.

“He bears the Dark Mark!” the fat barrister exclaimed.

“He was living in the same house as Voldemort. Do you really think he had a choice? Do you think he had any choices at all? It was simple, take the Mark or watch his mother die.” How on earth did Potter know that?

Draco remembered the night well. He had been hiding in his room; trying to avoid the flat-faced bastard that was stalking the halls of his ancestral home. He was startled out of his thoughts by a loud knock on the door. His aunt Bellatrix had swept into the room, wand held high.

“The Dark Lord requests your presence, follow me.” The threat hung heavy in the air, cloying through his lungs. He had stood woodenly, pulling every mental defense he had as tight as he could. They had walked through the halls, Draco holding his head high. Showing any form of fear in his home was as good as a gilded invitation for terrible things. His mad aunt had a nose for fear and a penchant for torment.

They had entered the ballroom where the Dark Lord held court and what Draco had seen had made his blood run cold. His mother was whimpering in pain, sprawled across the floor with a cut to her forehead bleeding freely.

“As your father has failed so miserably at the simple task I set him, it is upon you to take his place.” The Dark Lord had hissed, “you shall bear the Mark in his stead and complete the job I have for you.”

There was nothing left to do but raise his sleeve and hold his arm out for the Dark Lord.

When the pain had faded and the echoes of his screams have given way to ragged gasps, the Dark Lord had told him his job. To find a way for the Death Eaters to breach the school wards, and above all, to kill Albus Dumbledore.

Hearing this, Draco had nearly sobbed in relief. He was going back to school. He had been sure that once Marked he would never get to leave the Dark Lord’s side, much as his mad aunt Bella.

“And you know this how?” the fat barrister asked, breaking through Draco’s memories.

“I saw it,” Potter said simply. “His mother was being tortured, it was taking the Mark or watching her die. What would you have done faced with that choice? What would any of you have done?” Here Potter let his fierce emerald gaze sweep over the entire Wizengamot.

“Draco and I were born on opposite sides of the war. His father was a Death Eater and Voldemort was living in his home; yet he failed to identify me, and his wand is the one that killed Voldemort. You might not think that’s much, but to me it is more than enough. Draco is the reason Voldemort is dead, just as much as me. Without him, we would have lost the war.” Potter rested his gaze on Draco, and Draco felt the entire room slip away as he shook in the presence of that powerful focus. “If you’re thinking he deserves to be punished, believe me when I say Voldemort already covered that.”

“Thank you, Mr. Potter,” Minister Shacklebolt began, “You have given us much to think on. I’m requesting a short recess before we come to a decision. Meet back in half an hour.”

Immediately everyone fell to talking amongst themselves. Voices rose and fell, but Draco made no attempt at picking out any words. He didn’t think they’d give him the Kiss after Potter had defended him. Which meant life in Azkaban, reliving the memories of terror and pain. Never in his life did he hate Harry Bloody Potter as much as he did in that moment. He was supposed to be Kissed, and then it could all be over. Instead Harry Sodding Potter had to stick his nose in where it firmly wasn’t wanted, thank you, and ruin his only chance at peace. He directed a glare at Potter and was irritated when the bastard merely smirked back.

“Order, order!” Shacklebolt was saying in his booming voice. “Let’s cast the first vote, shall we? Draco Malfoy, you stand accused of being a terrorist and acting against the wizarding world’s interests. If convicted the sentence is life in Azkaban. Those that find the defendant guilty please raise your hands. Remember, a majority must be reached for a conviction to be brought.”

A few dozen hands rose, but not half, not even close. A tiny spark of hope unfurled in Draco’s chest, for the first time in what seemed years.

“Very well, the second charge. Given light of the testimony provided today, I am altering the second charge of using Unforgivable Curses to the use of Unforgivables under duress, the sentence of which is two years’ probation. Those who find the defendant guilty?” Here many hands were raising, almost all in fact. Potter shot to his feet, shouting at the Wizengamot that they were a bunch of sodding idiots, but Draco felt almost giddy with relief.

Probation. He could do probation. Two years was nothing, and then he would be free of everyone. He could leave England, maybe go to France. He had heard of interesting stuff being done in the world of potions in France.

The manacles fell away from his arms, and his barrister leaned over to him. “That’s the best outcome that could have happened. They couldn’t have let you off scot-free but having the Savior speak on your behalf really helped. Do you think he’d be willing to speak at your mum’s trial tomorrow?” She asked intently. Draco snorted. He had no idea and he wasn’t about to ask Harry Bloody Potter to defend his mother.

“What will be the terms of my probation? Will I be allowed a wand again?” Draco was suddenly bursting with questions.

“We’ll find out later, I’ll owl you the details. Are you coming to your mother’s trial? It’s tomorrow at 9 o’clock.” Draco nodded, the chance to see his mother too great a temptation even if it was as she was sent to Azkaban for who-knows-how-long.

“Well alright then, you’re free to go. I suggest you get some food and some sleep; you look dead on your feet.”

“Really, just like that?” Draco’s hands started shaking even more and he clasped them together tightly.

“Just like that. Off you pop.” She smiled understandingly at him as he jumped to his feet, the clamoring of the Wizengamot a faint buzz in the back of his mind.

“Thank you,” the simple words of gratitude were useless in the face of her generosity, but it was all he could do to get them out.

“You’re welcome, now go, before they change their minds.” At his look of horror, she laughed. He marveled at that sound of simple joy, not having heard much laughter lately. He turned away, keeping his head down and trying to avoid brushing against anyone as he silently left the court.

He was still in his prisoner’s robes and he didn’t know where the robes he had been wearing were, but he didn’t care. He swept through the halls, aiming for the lifts. He knew the Atrium had Floos and he desperately wanted to crawl into his bed and sleep for a week.

The cool female voice announced the Atrium and he slid out of the lift, trying desperately to make himself small and unnoticeable. He was halfway to the fireplaces when his luck ran out. A Stinging Hex glanced along his newly healed cheek. Something darker flicked past his shoulder. Dignity forgotten, Draco sprinted to the closest Floo, hand scrabbling for the glittering powder on the mantle.

“Malfoy Manor,” came out as a pained grunt as something hit his ribs with the force of a kick. The flames turned emerald and Draco limped through.

…

The next morning Draco arrived precisely fifteen minutes before his mother’s trial, looking every inch the Malfoy heir. He wore the navy robes his mother had always favored him in. If this was the last time they saw each other, he wanted to give her a decent memory.

Obviously, the consideration couldn’t be reciprocated as they led his mother in. She looked wan and pale, the grey prisoners’ robes washing out what color she might have had. Her eyes darted around until they found him. She kept her gaze on him, a small smile softening her face.

The trial began much as his had, with the minister reading the charges and evidence being presented. Just as things were looking dire, Harry Bloody Potter stood up and gave another testimony. Draco could feel the weight of debts to Potter multiplying by the second.

Draco watched Potter save his mother in a way he could not do himself and hated him for it. From his just shagged hair to his stupidly broad shoulders, Draco hated the eyebrows off Potter. He sat fuming, glaring at the back of the Boy Who Lived, as said boy told the entire wizarding world how Narcissa Malfoy had saved his life and helped win the war.

The Wizengamot must have been moved by Potter’s pleas for mercy; they convicted Narcissa of aiding and abetting a criminal but only sentenced her to five years house arrest.

Draco sat in shock after the sentence was announced and the Wizengamot dismissed. His mother rose unsteadily, and then swept him into her arms, her face a mask of tears.

“Mother, we aren’t alone,” he choked out.

“Shh, Draco,” she said, as she smoothed the back of his head. “It’s over, it’s all over.”

Draco understood what she meant, that they had each other, but he had never thought his mother more wrong before. This wasn’t over, it probably wouldn’t ever be over completely.

“Er, Malfoy? Draco?” came a tentative voice behind him. Draco froze, he’d know that voice anywhere. Quickly he rubbed his eyes dry, when had he started crying? His mother released him from her death grip and he turned around.

“Potter,” Draco said with a nod.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but I have your wand and I really need to get going,” there, in Potter’s warm thick fingers, sat Draco’s wand. He was holding it out, offering it back to Draco and Draco couldn’t make a single sound. He merely reached forward and took it, his pale fingers ghosting over Potter’s. Their skin made the barest contact and Draco forgot how to breathe. He stared at his wand, now secure in his grasp, and wondered how much he could owe someone before he spontaneously combusted. Draco was sure it was soon; his hand was burning where he had touched Potter’s skin, and he could feel it spreading.

He looked up, to say thank you, to express some tiny portion of the gratitude he felt, but Potter had already gone.

Chapter Text

The night of Malfoy’s mother’s trial found Harry alone in Sirius’s room. After giving back the hawthorn wand he had felt so raw and vulnerable he had lied about having an appointment just so he could avoid the look on Malfoy’s face. Malfoy had looked the same as he felt, broken and beaten with just a hint of hope, so he had fled. He had ignored Hermione’s anxious queries; crawled in here, warding the door and flinging up a Silencing Charm for good measure. He had felt splayed open, cut to the quick in a way he couldn’t explain. So, he did the only thing he could, he hid.

He looked around the room, so much of it still untouched since Sirius’s death.

Deciding on the spot that cleaning (snooping) sounded better than thinking, Harry crossed over to Sirius’s school desk. He sat heavily and began rifling thought the parchment in the drawers. Most were old Hogwarts assignments, marked rather poorly, Harry noted. Smirking at a Troll Potions essay in which Sirius had merely written "Does anyone actually care about the uses of diced versus spiraled boomslang skin in relation to the season?" which was reasonable, in Harry’s opinion.

Then, at the bottom of the pile, Harry found a note that had clearly been left by mistake.

Padfoot,

We told them. I can’t believe we told them, and they don’t hate us. True, Prongs was the one that swung Wormtail, you called it there. But still, I thought Prongs would give us a much harder time than ‘was it a secret you two were shagging?’ To think, all the time I spent worrying and he knew all along. We need to make some adjustments. Either Prongs has overnight become much more observant (unlikely), or we are way more obvious than we thought. It won’t matter so much, for me. My parents already know. But I worry for you. Yours are so judgmental. I don’t want you to lose them, as much as you say you don’t care what they think. They’re your parents, and even if they’re twisted and wrong, they love you. Plus, I’m banking on them leaving you everything and being your man of leisure after school.

Love,

Moony

Harry sat frozen, reading and re-reading the letter. Remus and Sirius had been together in school. Bloody hell. Remus and Sirius.

It wasn’t as though Harry didn’t know gay people existed, he had grown up under Vernon Dursley’s roof after all. Lectures about the wrongness of poofters were a fairly common Sunday brunch occurrence. No, it was more that he had had no time to think about it before. Before had always been about Voldemort and the war. Now, with this letter in his hand, he couldn’t seem to think about anything else.

He sat back on the bed, clutching the letter as his thoughts spiraled out.

He imagined kissing a man, the scruff of stubble rubbing along his jaw. He pictured hard pecs under his hands instead of soft breasts. He thought of a rigid length pressed against his own. He felt himself growing hard as he imagined kissing his way down a man’s chest, flicking his tongue along small pert nipples. He rubbed his palm along his clothed erection, breath turning heavy.

He saw himself nosing into a man’s wiry pubic hair and wrapped a hand around his now throbbing erection. He tried to imagine the heaviness of a prick in his mouth as his cock leaked a dribble of precome.

He threw his head back, opening his mouth in response to the fantasy building in his mind. He would slide the foreskin back with his tongue, licking the slit and tasting the precome beading at the tip.

What would it taste like? His hand moved faster, twisting a bit at the end. Harry didn’t think he’d ever been harder and stroked himself furiously as he imagined sucking off a faceless bloke.

He thrust into his hand, hard and fast. He could hear himself moaning as he put two fingers in his mouth to mimic the feel of a cock on his tongue. He could feel his orgasm mounting, his stomach coiling in anticipation. He imagined the heavy pink prick hitting the back of his throat, filling his mouth with come.

His cock throbbed, and suddenly he was coming hard. His vision darkened, and his fingers slipped out of his mouth. His stomach was coated with spunk, reaching as high as his chin, as he felt lights spark behind his eyes. He weakly caressed himself through it, until he became too sensitive for touch.

“Bollocks,” Harry said.

…

The next morning Harry woke heavy and hard from another fiendfyre dream, but this one he couldn’t strictly classify as a nightmare. Malfoy had been pressed behind him, thighs flush against his own. The heat of the flames had consumed him. Harry started tugging himself relentlessly, refusing to think of Malfoy as he imagined a lean hard body behind him. And if that body had pale smooth hands that reached around and caressed him, no one had to know.

An hour later, after his very successful wank, Harry and Hermione were sitting at the breakfast table eating the spread Harry had cooked. They had gone to a muggle Tesco the previous week and bought supplies and were now eating rather well.

“Hermione,” Harry began, “can we talk?”

“Of course, Harry.” Hermione said, carefully placing her fork back into her plate.

“I think I’m gay.” Harry said abruptly. There, he had said it. He kept his eyes trained on his own plate, not daring to look up.

“Okay. Thank you for telling me.” Hermione said softly.

“Is that all you have to say?” Harry asked as he darted a glance at Hermione’s face. She looked peaceful and almost happy.

“Should I say anything else?” Hermione asked.

…

A few weeks later they were seated at the table, again eating the breakfast Harry had cooked. Hermione really was useless in the kitchen. The most he could trust her with was tea, which was always welcome on the odd night his Silencing Charm failed and she woke him out of his nightmare, steaming cup in hand.

“You know, it all makes sense now,” Hermione began haltingly.

“What all makes sense now?” Harry prodded.

“Well, your obsession with Malfoy in fifth year. In all of school, actually. Unresolved sexual tension.” Harry felt himself flush at her words. It’s not like she could know the odd erotic flavor some of his dreams had taken on, or the fact that he was wanking himself raw each morning to thoughts of long, pale limbs draped over his.

Just as Harry went to answer scathingly, an owl tapped on the kitchen sill. Harry opened the window and two owls flew inside, one hidden behind the other.

Each one dropped a letter on the table, before flapping to the top of the pantry. Harry grabbed his own letter as he tossed the other at Hermione.

Mr. Potter

Due to the tumultuous circumstances last year Hogwarts is welcoming back all students that should have graduated previously. To enroll in this ‘eighth year’ please respond by owl so that accommodations can be made. A list of required supplies is included. Note that every student returning shall be offered the utmost support and encouragement.

Deputy Headmaster Flitwick

“Well, that was unexpected,” Harry said simply.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said in wonder, “we get to go back. Think of it! Charms and Potions and Transfiguration…” her voice trailed off dreamily.

Think of it Harry did. He could go back to school, studying might be nice without the threat of a megalomaniac breathing down his neck. Especially since he had no bloody idea what he was going to do with his life anymore. Kingsley had offered him a spot on the aurors’ training team after Malfoy’s trial. Harry had told him he would consider it. Really, he couldn’t think of anything worse. Harry had had enough of hunting Dark wizards, enough to last a lifetime. A year back at Hogwarts, however, planning his next steps, sounded like heaven.

“Yeah, that sounds good. Let’s owl back,” Harry hesitated and then gathered his famous Gryffindor courage. “Do you think Ron will be there?” They had seen neither hide nor ginger hair of Ron since Hermione had hexed him.

“Do you really think it matters?” Hermione said instead. “If he’s there or if he’s not, it’s not stopping me from finishing my N.E.W.T.s”

Harry had to laugh at that, this was a determined young witch sitting across from him.

…

Diagon Alley was crowded, small children were shrieking with laughter as they showed off their new purchases to each other.

“God, Harry, were we ever that tiny?” Hermione asked, staring at a group of kids clearly getting ready for their first year at Hogwarts.

“’Mione,” Harry choked out as the walls started to close in on him. There were too many people, just too many, and panic was trying to claw its way out of his throat. The urge to run, to fight, was nearly overwhelming. The screams of children echoed in his mind, bringing back memories of another night in which children screamed. The night children had died. The night he had died-

Hermione spared one glance at his shaking frame before grabbing his hand and holding it tightly.

“Breathe, Harry, c’mon take a breath, you can do it,” she murmured at him, shuffling them into the shadow of a building. He took a shaky breath. “Good, now again.”

As Hermione helped him get his breathing back under control, Harry tried to bridle his racing heartbeat. He looked over her shoulder and saw that no one was looking their way.

“Privacy spell?” Harry panted.

“Yes, I didn’t think you’d want all of Diagon Alley witness you going completely mental.”

“Ha bloody ha,” Harry deadpanned.

“Feeling better?”

“A bit, yeah,” he mumbled.

“Alright then, let’s go face the mob.”

He heaved a dramatic sigh, which only earned him a glare from Hermione as she lifted the enchantment and pulled him back into the crowds.

They stopped at Madam Malkin’s first, purchasing the robes piped in purple that would mark them out as eighth years. They went to the apothecary next, buying new cauldrons and plenty of supplies. Harry wasn’t sure he would pass Potions but decided to give it a go anyway, lots of career paths required a N.E.W.T. in Potions. The entire time, Hermione held his hand tightly, keeping him grounded and in the moment.

“Harry, can we stop at the menagerie? The one where I got Crookshanks?” Hermione asked haltingly. “I really miss having a cat.”

“’Course, ‘Mione.” Harry knew it had cost her something to even voice her wish, feeling as he did about Hedwig. Then again, Crookshanks wasn’t dead, he was merely in Australia with Hermione’s parents.

They entered the shop, the smell of wood shavings and fur overpowering. Hermione made a beeline to look at the cats while Harry wandered toward the dark back of the shop. It was cooler back here, the lights dimmer. Reptilian eyes stared back at him, unblinking.

"Delicious,” whispered a tiny white snake, her snubbed nose raising up to flick her tongue his way.

"What’s delicious?” Harry asked.

"You," came the shivery hiss.

“Ah! Mr. Potter! Conversing with our young snakes, are we?” The shopkeeper appeared from behind a stack of cages. “I’ve always wondered what they’re thinking.”

“She called me delicious,” Harry said bemusedly.

“Oh yes, that would make sense. She’s a hognose, you see, they feed off of intense emotions. You, who have lost so much, must be quite the meal for her.”

"Will you take me from this place? I dislike the one that feeds me. Never has enough sorrow or fear. Always hungry, so hungry." Harry didn’t know how such a tiny snake could look so hopeful, but she managed it.

“Bloody hell. She wants me to adopt her.”

Twenty minutes later found Harry outside the shop, the confused but oddly pleased, owner of a sleeping juvenile hognose snake.

“She said she was starving!” Harry was explaining to a giggling Hermione.

“Really, Harry, must you save everyone?” Hermione gasped out, clutching a tiny black kitten to her chest.

“You’re one to talk, that thing looks like it’s made of spare parts.” The golden-eyed kitten merely squeaked at him, entirely unoffended.

“Hey! She can’t help that she was hurt. Give her a few more weeks to heal and she won’t even notice she’s missing a leg. Besides, can you even bring a snake to school? They’re not on the list of pre-approved pets.”

“She’s a registered service animal, so not even McGonagall can keep her out,” Harry stated smugly. “I have to get her licensed, but the shopkeeper had the forms. Can we drop them at the owl office before we leave?”

At Hermione’s nod, they turned back into Diagon Alley proper, stopping at the only place left on their lists. Flourish and Blotts. Harry dropped his new pet into his pocket, and Hermione magicked a lead for her kitten. She then brazenly stepped into the shop, the kitten still in her arms.

“Hermione,” Harry began, “Are you sure you’re allowed to bring a pet in here?”

“Who’s going to stop me?” She pointed out, “Besides, I think I deserve a few perks after winning a war.”

“Won that all on your own, did you?” Harry teased.

“I suppose you played a minor part,” Hermione said, “What with your impressive role as bait.”

“Oi! I’ll have you know I died!” Harry said, injured.

“Yes, Harry, whatever you say,” she patted his cheek and swept off to find her books.

They had had this conversation a few times, Harry had gone over the whole thing with her until she had run out of questions. All for her to categorically deny that he had died and simply come back.

“That’s not how our bodies work,” she had said at the time. It had bothered Harry a bit, but he really couldn’t pretend to be surprised. It had been the same thing with Luna and the creatures that only she knew of. How Hermione could live in the magical world and still need so much physical, muggle evidence was beyond him.

He shook his head at her retreating back and went to collect the books he needed for school. He also tracked down a book on snakes, and one on names. He met with Hermione at the front and paid for their books, her stack much larger than his. He shrunk both piles and tucked them into a pocket not holding his new snake. He really wanted to figure out a name for her.

He wondered for the tenth time that day if he should just add Hermione to his Gringotts account. He paid for everything anyway. Then again, he hadn’t been back to Gringotts since they had broken in and released their dragon, they might not be his biggest fans there. He snorted.

“What’s funny?” Hermione asked.

“Nothing, just that a few months ago we rode a bloody dragon out of Gringotts,” he chuckled weakly, glancing at the white dome shining at the end of Diagon Alley.

“Your mind must be a very odd place to live,” Hermione replied which just made him laugh in earnest. “Come on then, let’s stop by the owl office and go home. I’ve had enough of crowds today.”

Harry couldn’t agree more, the pointing and staring were getting worse the longer they were out.

…

A few weeks later Harry woke up on his eighteenth birthday hard yet again. Since figuring out his sexuality, his libido had been through the roof. He tugged at himself roughly, determined to make this birthday at least start well. He reached down with his other hand and rolled his heavy bollocks in this palm. Just as he closed his eyes to picture pale, smooth hands in place of his own-

“Happy birth- augh!” Hermione said as she flung open his door.

“Jesus bloody Christ Hermione!” Harry said, as he pulled the blankets back over himself.

“I did try knocking! Your Silencing Charm must have still been up," she said as she faced the wall.

“For good bloody reason!” Harry exclaimed.

“Er, I’ll just go, shall I?” she edged out of the room, reaching to close the door behind herself, “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re done!”

Bloody hell, he had just been caught tossing one off by Hermione. He was never going to be able to look her in the eye again. He considered moving, feeling that it might be easier than going into the kitchen. Was it too early to go to Hogwarts? Maybe he could pinch the tent and go live in a field somewhere until term started.

"I have not tasted this emotion before. What is it called?" Kai hissed from her tank on the bureau. He had decided on the name Kai after finding it meant ocean and recovery. Ocean had seemed right, after the depth of his sorrow and anger. Recovery was easier to explain, if not to feel.

"Humiliation. Mortification. Take your pick." Harry hissed back.

"Mmm, delicious. I hope you feel this mortification often." Kai said simply.

"If you really like it, you may as well come with me while I confront Hermione." Harry dressed quickly and reached into Kai’s tank for her to slither into his hand. He placed her on his shoulder, and she slithered up into his hair, her favorite place to be when she was feeding off of him.

He tumbled down the stairs, already dreading the conversation he knew Hermione was going to make him have.

He opened the kitchen door and stopped, shocked. Hermione had decorated the entire room, banners and streamers were everywhere. There, in pride of place, was a heavily iced cake. Small sparklers were going off all over the room, distracting Harry from seeing Hermione standing by the hob.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” Hermione said softly. Harry’s hopes started to rise, maybe she wouldn’t make him talk about the eyeful he had given her after all.

“Thanks, ‘Mione. This is brilliant,” he smiled.

“Look, Harry, everybody wanks.” Hermione started and Harry groaned, sinking into a chair, and cradling his head in his hands.

“No, I don’t, and you definitely don’t.” Harry said, a flush rising on the back of his neck.

“Oh, Harry, of course I do,” she replied. He looked up to see her dark cheeks flushed as well.

“No, Hermione, neither of us wank, ever.” Harry dropped his head back down into his hands, his cheeks burning.

“You’re being rather immature about this,” Hermione said as she started filling the kettle from the sink.

“I don’t care,” Harry mumbled through his fingers.

“Look, Harry, you can talk to me about this stuff,” Hermione said softly, “You can talk to me about anything.”

“No, I really can’t. Can we please change the subject?”

“Fine,” she huffed.

"So much delicious mortification. Can I taste this emotion often?” Kai asked sibilantly.

"Most likely, my life seems to be filled with humiliation.” Harry hissed back.

“What’s she saying?” Hermione asked with a nod at Kai.

“She’s asking if we can talk about sex all the time so she can feast off of my embarrassment.” Harry said miserably.

“Speaking of! Presents!” Hermione tossed a red-wrapped present at him. She poured the tea and placed a mug in front of him as she slid into the seat opposite.

What his present had to do with sex was a mystery until Harry unwrapped it. It was a book titled The Young Wizard’s Guide to Gay Sex.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed as Kai hissed her happiness.

“Look, there are things you need to know, and I know you’re too useless to go looking!” Hermione said, her cheeks warming again.

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence,” he said, tucking the book into a pocket. He would read it, but not in front of Hermione.

“Right well, you’d better get breakfast started if you want to eat today. Otherwise it’s just Earl Grey and cake.” Hermione said with a huff in her voice.

Chapter Text

September first dawned bright and early, and Draco felt a bone deep weariness from the moment he woke up. He stared at the ceiling of his room as his house elf told him breakfast would be served in an hour.

“Thank you, Tippy,” Draco said softly.

After the crack of Disapparation, Draco sat up in bed. He scrubbed at his face, his fingers shaking. He flung the blankets from himself and stumbled to his feet. He hobbled to the en suite, turning on the shower as he relieved his bladder. The tingling of his limbs disappeared under the hot spray. He huffed in an enjoyment almost sensual; he had never genuinely appreciated not being in pain before. He washed himself and his hair methodically, enjoying the citrusy smell of his favorite hair potion. And if he stroked himself to completion at the thought of brown thick fingers wrapping around his cock, no one else had to know.

When he was finished with his shower, he stood in front of his mirror, a towel slung low around his pelvis. He used his hair and skin potions in exact order. He left off his last hair potion, the one that slicked his hair back. He had done this a few times in Slytherin, but never when he had left the dorms. The previous night his mother had suggested it, saying it softened his look in a way that might make him more approachable.

He made his way down to the dining room, smoothing the edge of his emerald robes. He might not get to wear Slytherin green at the castle, but he’d be damned if he didn’t give at least a passing nod to his former House.

“Good morning Draco, dear,” his mother said from the head of table. Technically, with him being of age and his father being imprisoned for the next twenty-five years, that seat should be his. His mother, however, had other ideas. She had said he would earn his place after his marriage and not before.

The end of the war had wrought changes on them all, but his mother now had a near-obsession with the thought of him getting married and securing the Malfoy line. His betrothal to the youngest Greengrass girl, ten years in the making, fell through when his mother had reached out after the trials. It was only quick thinking on Draco’s part to suggest Pansy as a suitable substitute. His mother had been hesitant, Pansy being pureblood but not one of the sacred twenty-eight. In the end he had reminded her that any child would bear his name and not hers, trying not to shudder at the thought. Reluctantly, his mother had agreed, and owls between the Parkinsons’ and the Malfoys’ had flooded the summer.

“Good morning, Mother,” Draco said, trying to control the trembling of his hands.

“You’ll need to change before you leave, mustn’t do to remind them of your previous allegiances.” She said with a wave at his robes.

Draco wanted to grind his teeth in frustration. “Of course, Mother, I should have thought of it myself,” he said instead.

Tippy placed his meal before him, along with his customary tea, and he said a quiet thanks. He ate silently, not really tasting the food before him.

“I’m off Mother,” Draco rose to kiss her cheek, “I’ll be back for the Christmas break.”

“Invite Miss Parkinson, if you will, a mother aught to get to know her future daughter-in-law,” she replied. “Have a great term.”

Miss Parkinson, Draco thought, was a rather idiotic nod to formality from his mother, considering Pansy had been visiting the manor regularly their entire lives. How many pureblood functions had they snuck away from together? Draco wasn’t sure but the number must surely be in the hundreds.

Draco returned to his rooms, changed into charcoal grey robes, and collected his trunk before he Apparated to King’s Cross.

He was there an hour early so he could ensure he got a private carriage for himself and Pansy. They would undoubtedly be the most hated students in school and it was always best to control situations like this. He threw a few privacy spells up and waited for Pansy.

…

In the end it was Pansy and Blaise who shared his compartment with him, they three the only returning Slytherins of their year. He rested his head in her lap and she smoothed his hair back, both of them finding comfort in the simple act they had made a habit of for years.

“So, where’s my ring?” Pansy asked.

“I think Mother is planning on having me present it for Christmas, she invited you and I imagine she wants to be there when I get on bended knee and declare my undying love for you.”

“It had better be obscenely big,” Pansy smirked.

“All Malfoy heirloom rings are ridiculously gaudy. You’ll probably over-balance with the Erumpent-sized rock he tries to force on your finger,” Blaise cut in.

“The tragedies of being rich,” she shrugged.

“Zabini rings are always tasteful and appropriate,” Blaise continued.

“How many has your mum been through then? Ten? Twelve?” Draco smirked.

“Fair point,” Blaise flashed his brilliant smile. Too bad he’s straight, Draco thought yet again. He’d had his awkward crush-on-a-straight-boy phase years prior. Sometimes, however, it threatened to return. Those times generally occurred when Blaise was looking especially fit.

Blaise got up then, to get some food off the cart. “Anything for you lot?”

“Chocolate frogs!” Draco exclaimed, as Pansy shouted-

“Beans! I need the beans!”

“Should have guessed, I’ll just be a shake.” With that Blaise exited the carriage.

“Draco, while he’s gone,” Pansy said softly, “what happens if we meet other people?”

“Who on earth is going to look twice at me? I’m the ex-Death Eater with a preference for cock.” Draco laughed. “But if you find someone, I won’t hold it against you if you break things off.”

“I’m the bint that tried to throw Harry Potter to the Dark Lord with a preference for fanny. No girl is going to look at me unless it’s to throw a hex.” Draco patted her knee softly.

The easy affection he shared with her had sprung up after a few intense nights of drinking in the Slytherin dorm in fourth year. Snape had always looked the other way when things got a little rowdy. Pansy and Draco had stolen a bottle of firewhiskey and snuck off to an alcove painted in shadows. There they had shared the most awkward first kiss in the history of worst snogs. Two weeks later, after another nicked bottle of firewhiskey had them stumbling back to the same small corner of the castle. Draco had leaned in to give her a proper snog, and to his horror she had burst into tears.

“Draco, please, I’m so sorry,” she had sobbed on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Pansy, it’s okay,” he had awkwardly patted her head, unsure of what the rules were when the girl you were supposed to snog was dripping on your robes.

“It’s not you, I promise it’s not you,” Pansy had begun brokenly. “It’s me, I just don’t like you that way.”

“That’s okay, Pansy, you don’t have to,” Draco had said, unsure of what else he should say.

“It’s just that I don’t like any boys,” Pansy had whispered. “But I know that I should, that I have to, and you’ve always been so nice to me, and what am I going to do?”

“Er, Pansy, do you like girls?” Draco had asked hesitantly, she had moaned in response, nodding her head against him, unable to form the words.

“Oh, thank Merlin, I thought I was the only one,” Draco had said before he could stop himself.

“You like girls too?” Pansy had asked confusedly, “The only what, Draco?”

“No, Pansy, I like boys, the same as you like girls.” Draco had hardly been able to keep himself from squeezing the life out of the magnificent person clinging to him. He wasn’t alone, someone else was here, just as different as he.

“So, we don’t have to snog anymore?” Pansy had wanted to know.

“No, we don’t have to snog anymore,” Draco had laughed. Then a thought occurred to him, a brilliant thought. “But maybe we could pretend?”

“Pretend?” Pansy had asked. “Pretend what?”

“Pretend that we’re snogging,” Draco said softly, still struck with wonder at how genius his mind was. “We can pretend we’re snogging and dating and stuff and that way no one will expect us to date anyone else. No bloke will bug you if they think you’re with me, and maybe Astoria will stop making moon eyes at me if you scare her off a bit.”

She had looked up at him at that, the wonder he felt reflected in her eyes. “We can pretend,” she had whispered.

Draco returned to the moment after a vicious tug to his hair. “Nothing’s changed then, why are you worrying about something that hasn’t even happened?”

“Borrowing trouble, I guess.” She made a face, “argh, I sound like my mother.”

Just then the compartment doors slammed open as Blaise returned, his arms filled with his score. “You each owe me three sickles.”

“Draco, love of my life, get mine?” Pansy pleaded. Which was all a ruse, he knew she had just as much money as he did. Grumbling, he passed the silver over to Blaise.

“Guess who I saw on my way back?” Blaise said with the air of conferring a secret.

“Who?” Draco asked flatly.

“Come on, you have to guess!”

“The Minister for Magic,” Pansy deadpanned.

“You’re no fun, either of you.” Blaise complained. At Draco’s stern look he relented. “Fine, Potter and Granger are two carriages down, alone. Looks like the rumors are true.”

THE GOLDEN TRIO BECOMES THE GOLDEN DUO!
Exclusive photos within!

The headlines had screamed the news. Draco had frantically flipped through the newspaper as soon as his mother had left the room. There, laughing at some unknown joke, Potter and Granger were walking hand-in-bloody-hand through Diagon Alley. A source claiming to be close to the Weasel had said he had found them in bed together the morning after the wake for one of the Weasel brood. It sounded tacky and crass, and completely unlike everything Draco had assumed about Gryffindors and their morals. Then he remembered the lies The Prophet had printed at his word and realized there was possibly another side to the story.

“Okay Draco, that’s our chance. Let’s go get it over with.” Pansy said.

“Oi, what’s this then?” Blaise said around a mouthful of pumpkin pasty.

“We agreed that we’d clear the air with Potter as soon as we could. The fact that he’s with Granger is just a bonus.” Pansy said brightly, pushing Draco off her lap.

“I hate you,” Draco whined.

“Come on, wizard up,” Pansy replied, “you know how honorable he is. One time we humiliate ourselves and he’ll be falling all over himself appreciating the effort.”

“Fine,” Draco grumbled as he took a deep breath and slid the compartment door open. The shrieks of over-excited children assaulted his ears immediately.

“Merlin, I could floss with some of these infants,” Pansy said as they passed a compartment filled to the brim with excited children.

“I’m sure you will,” Draco consoled her as they looked in on Potter and Granger’s carriage. They were indeed holding hands and Draco wasn’t sure, but he thought Potter looked a bit pale. He shook out his own hands and slid the door open. Potter and Granger’s eyes swung to him as he stepped forward.

“Potter, Granger, I want to apologize for the many horrendous things I said to and about you both. My actions were horrific, and I want you to know that I am not the same person I was at eleven, nor even a year ago. Potter, I am truly sorry about all the things I said about your lack of parents. Granger, I apologize for every hurtful thing I said about yours and your blood status.” There, he had said it, and he could feel the violently red blush beating across his cheeks.

Potter and Granger merely stared at him; Potter’s mouth opened in a little round ‘o’.

“Potter, I’m sorry I tried to throw you to the Dark Lord,” Pansy stepped in. “Granger, I’m sorry I spread rumors about you in the papers.”

Draco stood for a moment but neither Potter nor Granger made any move.

“Right then, we don’t expect either of you to accept our apologies, but we thought it appropriate to offer them.” He gave a sharp nod of his head just as a tiny white snake popped its’ head out of Potter’s atrocious hair. Potter and the snake began hissing at each other as Draco stared. He hadn’t heard anyone talk in Parseltongue since the slit-nosed arsehole had waltzed around the manor with his scaly friend.

“Right,” Potter said, “Kai says you’re genuine and she really wants to meet you both, so sit down.”

Draco and Pansy exchanged a glance as Granger started against Potter.

“Kai says they mean it?” She asked, her gaze trained on Potter. He simply nodded, staring at Draco.

“If you’re sure,” Pansy said with aplomb, dropping herself opposite Granger and holding her hand out to Potter. He quickly placed his tiny snub-nosed snake in her hand. “Merlin, she might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen,” Pansy cooed.

Draco sat opposite Potter and tried not to notice the way the green eyes bored into his scalp as he bowed his head. His embarrassment had not ebbed, and he merely sat there, red-faced and trying to control the trembling of his fingers. He felt a tiny movement, like the fluttering of a minnow, on his shoulder, and froze. It was the snake, Potter’s snake, slithering from Pansy’s shoulder to his. Kai, that was her name, right? Draco wondered, as she slid up his neck, winding herself about his ear. She rustled around, circling through his hair. He almost shuddered to think of the state he might be in as she settled. Oddly, he immediately started feeling less embarrassed even with a tiny white snake coiled on his head. She hissed at Potter who laughed and hissed back.

“Looks like you’re staying for a while,” Potter began, “she usually naps after a feed and I’ve learned it’s best not to disturb her.”

“So, I’m to sit here with a bloody snake on my head?” Draco demanded.

“Well, yeah,” Potter said amusedly, “she might be a baby, but her bite still hurts.”

“She bites?!” Draco exclaimed.

“Oh hush,” Potter replied, “let her sleep and you’ll be fine. Besides, I’m sure you feel better now.”

Draco did feel better, his blush had receded, and he no longer felt like tossing himself out of the window to escape the situation he found himself in; sitting across from Harry Fucking Potter with a tiny white snake curled up in his hair.

“How did you know that?” Draco demanded softly, trying to keep his head still.

“She’s my service animal, she eats negative emotion. She ate enough of yours to need a nap and make you feel better.” Potter said simply.

“You’re telling me this bloody snake is manipulating my emotions?!” Draco burst out, still keeping his head steady, he really didn’t fancy a bite to his skull.

“Kind of?” Potter said with a shrug. “She’ll be better than a Calming Draught when she’s older.”

Draco was furious. He didn’t need a bloody snake or Harry Sodding Potter to make him feel better. He deserved his feelings, after subjugating them for so long. True, he might not be the happiest bloke in England, but he had earned the right to be the most miserable. He glared at Potter, who barely seemed to notice as he asked Pansy what classes she was taking. Pansy had just opened her mouth to answer when the door was flung open by none other than Blaise.

“Look, I tried to give you two your space to make your apologies but after you left a group of third year Hufflepuffs took over the carriage. What was I supposed to do without you two pariahs there?” He tipped the sweets in his arms onto the lone spare seat. “Hufflepuffs.” He said again for good measure. Then he got a good look at the scene in front of him.

“Draco, have you got a snake on your head?”

“Ask Potter,” Draco replied, “It’s his bloody snake and I can’t move while she’s napping, or she’ll viciously attack me.”

“Oi! She will not!” Potter exclaimed, looking at Blaise as though unsure of how to behave with a carriage full of Slytherins.

“Don’t worry, Potter, we’re all well used to Draco’s dramatics,” Pansy said patting Draco’s shoulder as he started to splutter that he was not dramatic, thank you very much. She merely laughed at him.

“Hand us a frog,” Draco changed the subject, still unwilling to move.

“Beans!” Pansy exclaimed as she smiled at Blaise.

“Do you two want anything?” Blaise asked Potter and Granger after he tossed candy to his fellow Slytherins.

“Do you have any more frogs?” Potter asked as Granger shook her head.

“Oh, look Potter, it’s you,” Draco said snidely, pulling his chocolate frog card out.

A bashful looking Potter stood above the banner-

Known for his survival of the Death Curse at age one, Harry Potter went on to defeat the darkest wizard of our age, Lord Voldemort, at only seventeen.

Potter had the grace to look abashed as Draco smirked. When he was sure no one was watching, he slipped the card into a pocket.

Just then a tiny squeak sounded from behind Granger.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Draco asked, already on guard. Random squeaks had usually meant that Greyback was killing something small and helpless, such as muggle children. He felt his memories trying to claw their way to the surface and relentlessly he shoved them down.

“Oh, my new kitten. She’s not terribly fond of trains.” Granger said helpfully.

“There’s a kitten in this carriage and I haven’t met her?” Blaise demanded. Blaise’s love of cats was legendary in the Slytherin dorms. Granger laughed and pulled out the tiniest three-legged cat Draco had ever seen. Bloody hell, he had thought Potter had a savior complex, obviously he had been mistaken.

“Can I hold her? What’s her name?” Blaise was demanding next to Draco. Granger passed the kitten to Potter, who handed it to Blaise.

“Her name is Nomi,” Granger replied.

“Nomi,” Blaise mumbled, looking enchanted as the little black kitten started kneading his thigh with its single front paw, purring. He rubbed his thick knuckles against her brow, obviously enchanted.

“There are a lot of Wrackspurts in here,” Lovegood said as she slid the door open. She pushed the sweets aside and sat opposite Blaise. “We can clear them with positive thoughts.”

Draco stared at her, not sure how he could manage positive thoughts with the face of one he had imprisoned in his dungeons in front of him.

“Draco! I didn’t see you there. I was hoping you’d come back this year. You gave us extra food when I was in your dungeons.” Lovegood sang out, stopping all conversation.

“I didn’t do much. I’m sorry it wasn’t more,” he mumbled as he felt Potter’s gaze return to him.

“It was enough,” she said, reaching across Blaise to grasp his arm, and thankfully it was his left, un-Marked arm.

“Right, well,” he spluttered, aware he was now sitting across from Harry Bloody Potter with an infant snake mussing up his hair, being groped by none other than Luna Lovegood, the girl his family had held captive in his own home. “I’m still sorry, Lovegood.”

“Oh Draco, call me Luna,” she said, and he merely nodded at her, shaking his arm so that she was forced to release him.

The rest of the train ride passed oddly easily, until Blaise brought up Draco and Pansy’s upcoming engagement.

“Not all of us have a wedding to look forward to after school ends,” he said as he deflected Granger’s enquiries about his career plans.

“Er, who’s getting married?” Granger asked.

“We are,” Pansy said, wrapping Draco’s arm around her shoulders. And fuck if Draco didn’t feel Potter’s gaze once again locking on his brow. Draco kept his eyes trained on his own knees.

“Oh, so that’s still a thing then,” Granger asked.

“Yep,” Pansy answered flippantly, and Draco finally pulled his mask on enough to raise his head. Potter was still staring at him. Draco averted his gaze. He couldn’t look into those brilliant green eyes and talk about the farce of a marriage he was embarking on. He made eye contact with Lovegood-Luna instead and was comforted to see her giggling in a vague way.

After that, Potter reached up to take back his now cheerfully wriggling snake and held her close, speaking only when asked direct questions. Draco had no idea what had triggered Potter’s odd change of mood; but respected it and avoided looking at him though he felt the weight of that green-eyed stare many times.

The train shuddered to a stop and the six of them pushed their way past the tiny younger students, easily reaching the carriages pulled by thestrals. Draco stopped, shaking Pansy off as he gazed at the leathery black beast. Everyone started getting in the carriage and Draco raised a hand to pat the patched wing, silently respectful.

“When did you start seeing them?” Potter’s said softly.

“I’ve always been able to.” Draco replied, just as quietly. He vividly remembered being seven or eight when his grandfather Abraxus had passed. It had been curse damage from the first war the Dark Lord had waged, finally catching up to his grandfather’s frail, old bones.

His father had sat him next to his grandfather and he had dutifully held the paper-thin hand as the waste of a man had taken his last rattling breath. His father had demanded he return each night for a week, as respects were made at the bed of a dead man. It was one of the more repulsive pureblood traditions, in Draco’s opinion.

He shook his head and followed Potter into the carriage with Pansy, Blaise, Love-Luna, and Granger. He wound up opposite Potter again and kept his eyes on the back of the thestral instead of at the git.

When they reached the castle, Flitwick was waiting for the eighth years.

Chapter Text

“Now, there are to be many changes for you all, returning as you are as adults. As you are aware, the war left us all with many wounds, and we are committed to helping you heal as well as you can. In the interest of that healing, the Headmistress is putting an emphasis on interhouse unity. You will be the examples to which the rest of the school will look to. Do not expect to be partnered with any of your old housemates. Your class timetables will be set up by me after breakfast tomorrow, so stay at your table. Your table is separate, and you are expected to eat all meals there. Your new dorms are also separate and behind the portrait of Saudade the Sorrowful on the fifth floor. Password is Albus.” Professor Flitwick gazed at all of them, his stare landing on Malfoy last of all. Which was understandable, in Harry’s opinion, as Malfoy flinched.

They filed into the Great Hall, finding their small table held aside. Harry sat beside Hermione, unable to explain the melancholia that had settled on him midway through the train ride. Even Malfoy was moving on with his life, engaged to his Hogwarts sweetheart. Harry had felt such a wash of jealousy at that, he had had to take Kai back to help temper his frustration. The anger had ebbed quickly, leaving a deep sense of loneliness and sorrow in its wake.

Now he was here, in the Great Hall where so many dead had been placed after the Battle. Harry could see the spot Fred had been laid, and the place Remus and Tonks had been set side by side. Harry’s thoughts started to spiral, and he clutched Hermione’s hand under the table. She squeezed sympathetically.

The Sorting ceremony passed quickly, Harry hardly noticing as his stare drifted to Malfoy more often than not. Malfoy was seated between Parkinson and Zabini, keeping his own gaze directed at the dish in front of him. Harry dropped his eyes to his own plate as Headmistress McGonagall gave a short speech about the importance of friendship during times of healing. Harry couldn’t fault her there; he had no idea what he would have done without Hermione the past few months.

“Hiya Harry, how was your summer?” Neville asked from his right as food appeared in the center of the table.

Harry grabbed some roast chicken as Hermione dumped veg on his plate. “Argh Hermione, I don’t want any of that soppy stuff. It was good Nev, how about yours?”

“Don’t care,” Hermione said as she served herself as well.

“It was okay, gave a few speeches,” Neville said. After the war, and Harry’s self-imposed solitude, Neville had stepped forward as the face of the anti-Voldemort movement. There were still pockets of resistance even in the Ministry itself. Some people, such as Umbridge, who had broken no laws, remained at large even though Harry thought them more culpable than even Narcissa Malfoy. Neville had teamed up with the Ministry to try and, if not imprison, at least force those people out of power and into the shadows.

“So why are you here then? I figured the Ministry would be chomping at the bit to get you to take a permanent position,” Harry asked.

“Yeah, but my gran would do her nut if I didn’t get my N.E.W.T.s, not even being a war hero is enough to please her,” Neville replied. “One more year here and then I go back to the Ministry full time.”

“So, Harry,” Neville said, lowering his voice and leaning closer to him and Hermione. “Think they’re up to anything?” He nodded at the former Slytherins who were quietly talking amongst themselves, pretending not to notice the fact that no one else had sat at their end of the table.

“I think they’re here to get their N.E.W.T.s, same as us,” Harry said equitably.

“Oh, come off it, Harry! Malfoy is always up to something, you know that!” Neville said, loud enough for the rest of the table to fall silent.

“What I know, Neville, is that I’m bloody sick of fighting. If you don’t mind, I’m going to sit here, eat my dinner, and then I’m going to go to bed. All I want is one bloody year at school where no one tries to kill me. Keep yourself off that list and leave me the hell alone if you’re looking for a fight.” Harry said loudly, raising his voice and staring down the rest of the eighth years.

Everyone fell silent at that and for the first time since the train, Malfoy raised his head and looked at Harry. His grey eyes were piercing, as though trying to understand something only he knew the question of.

The table stayed quiet for the rest of the meal, the students resuming their conversations at a low murmur.

After they had eaten and Headmistress McGonagall had given the start of term notices, Harry followed Hermione as they slogged off to the fifth floor, feeling warm and heavy and trying hard not to think of the embarrassment of basically shouting in the Great Hall his first night back.

All he wanted was one year, just one bloody year where he could be a normal teenaged kid at school. He just wanted to go to class, do some homework, stress about exams, and maybe flirt with a few blokes. Was that really so much to ask for? Just one year where he wasn’t Harry Potter, the Savior of the wizarding world?

Sighing mightily to himself, he pulled his heavy feet along the stone floors, fighting the urge to yawn.

“Albus,” said a girl’s voice ahead of him. The painting, almost the size of the entire wall, slid aside to reveal an arched entryway. As a group they entered, looking around in curiosity.

The Common Room was walled in rough castle stone, with dark wood and purple cushion accents. Cozy brown armchairs and sofas littered the room, aubergine throw rugs littered along them. Along one wall was a small kitchenette with what looked like every flavor of tea imaginable. The fireplace was blazing cheerily and casting its golden hue onto every surface. Harry had never seen a place that looked so comfortable and welcoming. He exhaled softly, releasing the last of his residual tension.

Two archways led off the common room, one marked ‘witches' and the other ‘wizards'.

“That’s us then,” Dean Thomas said, pulling Seamus Finnigan by the sleeve. Harry followed the other blokes, anxious to see his room.

“G’night Hermione,” Harry said as he waved back at her.

“’Night Harry.”

Harry found his room at the end of the hall, directly across from the one marked ‘Draco Malfoy’. Malfoy in question had gone in Zabini’s room before reaching his own. Shaking his head as he opened the door, Harry looked around. His bed was just next to the window, the way he preferred. He knew it was a magicked window, but it still mattered after spending eleven years in a cupboard. His trunk was at the end of his bed but for the first time he had a bureau to put his stuff in. Quickly he warded his door, making it so that he could hear what happened on the outside, in case someone knocked, but so that no one outside would hear what he was up to in here.

Delving into his things, he found Kai’s tank and a few other things he needed this night. He put her up on the bureau, setting the temperature charms just as she liked them. He placed her into the tank, hissing a soft goodnight as she wriggled into the sand, leaving only her upturned nostrils visible.

After Kai was settled, Harry dove back into his trunk. There was something he had been aching to try since reading the book Hermione had gifted him for his birthday. He hadn’t dared try it at Grimmauld Place, even though Hermione had been completely respectful of his privacy since she had walked in on him.

He found the lube he had secretly purchased in a muggle shop and placed it on the bedside table. Then he stripped off, tossing his clothes in the hamper provided.

…

The next morning, he woke up achy and sticky and in a decidedly good mood. He cast a few cleaning charms and grabbed his bag of toiletries. The loo was at the end of the hall, and as such only a few steps from Harry’s door. Banking on the idea that no one else would be up this early, Harry wrapped a towel around his waist instead of putting on clothes just to take them off.

He showered quickly, roughly scrubbing at his hair. He rinsed the shampoo out, watching the bubbles slide down muscled thighs, toned from years of quidditch. He turned off the taps, toweling his hair in the stall. He twisted the towel around his pelvis and went to the sink to brush his teeth. Finished, he looked in the mirror to check his hair. Giving it up as a bad job, he left the bathroom.

What he saw then tied his tongue in at least two places, reducing him to a bumbling fool.

Draco Malfoy was standing stock still in his own doorway, looking more adorable than Harry had thought possible.

His hair was an utter disaster and he had a faint pink crease from his pillow on his cheek.

And Harry was naked, except for this towel that suddenly seemed way too small.

“Er, I just wanted to use the loo before it got too crowded,” Draco said, his eyes trained on a spot on the wall just to the left of Harry’s head.

“Great minds,” Harry said. “It’s empty now.”

“Great minds?” Malfoy asked.

“Er, yeah, it’s an expression? Great minds think alike,” Harry mumbled.

Malfoy frowned, his bottom lip sticking out. Harry’s gaze locked onto that plump, pink lip. “Are you calling my mind great?”

“Er, yeah, I suppose so,” Harry felt a blush trying to beat out of his cheeks and thanked his warm brown skin for hopefully hiding it.

“Given my recent history, I have to call into question your judgement of the word great, Potter.” Malfoy said, his voice lacking its old poisonous tone.

“Call me Harry, Mal-Draco,” Harry said instead. God that felt weird.

“Absolutely not, Potter.” The blond snapped.

“C’mon, call me Harry.”

“No, Potter.”

“Harry.”

“No.”

“Come on, say it, Harry.”

“Not going to happen, Potter.”

“Fine, have your wash before the rest of them wake up then,” Harry said instead, suddenly remembering he was standing in front of Draco Malfoy, who was straight and engaged, wearing a too-small towel and engaging in small talk that some might interpret as flirting.

He ducked into his room, hoping the blush he could feel pounding on his face wasn’t visible. Kai wriggled in delight from her tank and he reached in to place her on top of his head. Getting dressed with a tiny snake wiggling on his scalp was no mean feat but Harry managed it eventually.

He didn’t bother checking his reflection as he left his room, he knew he looked ridiculous.

“Hey ‘Mione, were you waiting for me?” Harry asked, as he reached the Common Room to find her in an armchair by the fire.

“No, Harry, I just enjoy sitting alone in the Common Room when it’s our first day back at school in a year and I’m about to get the timetable that sets the course of the rest of my life.” Hermione said at breakneck speed.

“God, Hermione, take a breath,” Harry laughed as he reached for her hand. He rubbed her knuckles comfortingly as she tried to calm herself. “Better?” He asked.

“Better. Come on, let’s go get breakfast,” she replied.

…

Three days later Harry was sitting with Hermione again when Luna wandered up to the eighth years table, barefoot.

“Luna, why aren’t you wearing shoes?” Park-Pansy asked from down the table. Harry had firmly decided to call all the Slytherins by first name since he had run into Draco after his shower the other day. It was all in the interest of supporting interhouse unity, he had told Hermione. She had smirked at him in response.

“They seem to have all gone missing,” Harry heard Luna respond as something inside him of broke. Her cheerful voice telling the table that she hadn’t gone three days into the start of term without someone stealing all of her trainers made him see red.

He shot to his feet, shaking in rage. “No. Absolutely not. Luna, come with me.”

She rose from her seat next to Mal-Draco, and came to him smiling.

“Are you about to do something very Gryffindor?” she asked in her dreamy way.

“I am, let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and turned to drag her from the Hall. He pounded through the corridors, his trainers stomping on the stone floors.

"The depth of your anger, delicious. I have not tasted such fury before. I chose well that day when I adopted you," came the self-satisfied voice from his pocket. Harry ignored her, still shaking with anger.

They reached Ravenclaw Tower and the eagle knocker asked, “The more there is of this, the less you see. What is it?”

“I don’t bloody care.” Harry said.

“Harry, we have to answer the riddle to get in, you know that.” Luna said softly.

“No,” here he looked at the carved knocker. “You’re going to let me in, and you’re going to let me in right now or I’m going to blast you off your bloody hinges.” He took out his wand and pointed it directly at the door.

The eagle squawked and swung forward, opening the door for Harry.

As soon as Harry stepped over the threshold, the eagle started screaming, alerting the entire castle that an intruder had entered Ravenclaw tower by force. Harry didn’t hesitate, he threw the strongest Silencing Charm he could muster at the door, causing it to fall silent.

The alarm had awoken what remained of Ravenclaw students, as they all came tumbling down from their dorms. They stopped, a shocked crowd, staring at Harry as he shook with the force of his rage.

“Luna spent months captured by the enemy. Yet you now find her an easy target for theft? Every missing item of Luna’s is to be returned, right now. I don’t care if you have to Summon them or go get them yourselves. Then someone is going to pack all of those things back in her trunk and bring it here.” Kai hissed happily and slithered out of his pocket. She wound her way up one of his arms and he soon felt her twisting again in his hair.

Just then Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Flitwick arrived, both out of breath after obviously sprinting to the tower.

“Mr. Potter! You broke into Ravenclaw Tower? Why?” McGonagall barked.

“I’m taking Luna to the eighth year dorms, she’ll be living there for the rest of term. I’m still waiting!” He shouted at the frozen students and a few girls scrambled back into the girl’s dormitory.

“Mr. Potter, while I realize you are both consenting adults, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to move someone into your room, no matter how genuine the attachment is.” McGonagall began, confusing Harry until he realized he was still holding Luna’s hand.

“No professor, there is no attachment, not that I don’t like Luna, she’s great,” Harry stumbled.

“What on earth do you mean then?” McGonagall said.

“What I mean is that she’s bloody barefoot because this lot have hidden all her trainers!” Just like that, Harry’s temper, so recently cooled, sparked back up. “Three days into term and Luna Lovegood, a bloody hero who fought in the same war I did, is shoe-less!” Harry roared at the remaining students, who started backing away.

“Is this true?” Flitwick asked the room at large. The lack of denial and bowed heads were as good as confirmation.

“This is completely unacceptable!” McGonagall stormed. “Ms. Lovegood, are you alright with moving to the eighth year dorms?”

“Oh yes, all my friends are there,” Luna said happily. Items started streaming through the open door, obviously Summoned by the students hastily packing Luna’s trunk.

“Do you mean to tell me there is not a single person in this tower you would consider a friend?” McGonagall asked quietly.

“It’s alright Professor, I don’t mind.” Luna said.

“Well I bloody do!” Harry exploded.

“I have not fed on this much anger before; I will grow big and strong with you.”

“Language, Mr. Potter.” McGonagall said. “Very well, Ms. Lovegood may move into the eighth year dorms, but she will be rooming with the other girls.”

“Of course, Headmistress,” Harry mumbled as Luna nodded happily. Just then, Luna’s trunk levitated itself down the stairs and stopped directly in front of Harry. He grabbed a handle, ready to leave, but then Flitwick stepped forward.

“I have never been more disappointed in Ravenclaw students as I am in this moment. How can we lead the way in interhouse unity if we can’t even befriend a member of our own house? If you think there won’t be consequences to this, think again. There aren’t enough house points for me to take any away, so instead I’ll give you this promise: not a single point will be made to Ravenclaw by me for the rest of the year.”

“I agree. I will be bringing this up at the next staff meeting so that all professors are aware of the restriction.” McGonagall said sharply. “Now, Mr. Potter, Ms. Lovegood, I suggest you hurry along if you want to be on time to your first class. Leave the trunk with me, I will adjust the dorms and have a room ready for Ms. Lovegood by the end of classes.”

Harry released the handle of the trunk, and scooped Kai out of his unruly mop, holding her with his now free hand. She twisted herself around his wrist, settling her head on the back of his hand.

Harry checked his watch and realized they had just enough time to swing back through the Great Hall on the way to Herbology.

“C’mon Luna, let’s get you some breakfast,” Harry said.

“Can I get some shoes first?”

Twenty minutes later found him outside greenhouse seven, Luna by his side munching on toast, her feet clad in bright pink trainers.

Professor Sprout bustled up to them, looking the cleanest Harry had ever seen. Then again, Harry had never taken her class first thing in the morning, before she spent any time up to her elbows in fertilizer.

“Alright class, in you get.” Sprout said as she opened the door with a wave from her wand. She crossed to the back of the greenhouse, and they all sat at three tables. Harry, Luna, and Hermione wound up at the table with the three Slytherins when it looked like no one else wanted to share their table. Pansy threw a grateful glance at Harry before turning her attention back to Sprout.

“This term we will be covering more dangerous plants than you’ve encountered before. As such the group you’ve sat yourself with will be your team for any group projects I assign you. You’ll also need to find yourself a partner within this group for daily assignments. Today we’ll be repotting Devil’s Snare, so shake the fluff from between your ears and step lively.”

“Well, Draco, what do you say?” Harry asked, mindful of Flitwick’s warning that pairing between former housemates wouldn’t be allowed.

“Seeing as I won’t be getting any better offers than the Chosen One, I suppose you’ll have to do.” Draco said as Harry laughed. “Just don’t expect me to carry your dead weight, Potter.”

“Harry.”

“Potter.”

“Merlin’s bollocks, Draco, give it a rest,” Pansy cut in, “Luna, want to be my partner?”

“I suppose that leaves us, Blaise,” Hermione said as Luna nodded enthusiastically.

Chapter Text

A few weeks later Draco woke up late. He had accidentally silenced the alarm his wand gave at half past six every morning. Grumbling to himself because it meant he had to rush, he gathered his clothes and toiletries. He dropped the bag once but used a spell to gather back the rolling potions.

He showered quickly, washing his skin and hair as fast as he could.

He toweled off as soon as he turned the taps, pulling on his dressing gown in the stall. He went to the sink, brushing his teeth roughly. He could have used a Mouth-Freshening Charm, but he didn’t like how they left his teeth feeling scummy.

He met up with Blaise and Pansy in the common room after he dressed, twisting his tie into a perfect half-Windsor as he went. Blaise was once again playing with the half-grown cat of Hermione’s. He was crumbling up balls of parchment and skidding them along the floors for her to chase.

“Sorry,” Draco panted, “accidentally turned off my alarm.”

“It’s fine,” Blaise said. “Pansy only just got down.”

“I’ll have you know that a work of art like this takes time!” Pansy exclaimed, gesturing at her made-up face.

“It’s not like anyone is going to notice,” Blaise huffed. Draco and Pansy stole a quick glance, wondering for the millionth time if Blaise had sussed them out.

“Love, you look wonderful,” Draco said softly, taking her hand and kissing the back of it. Just then, Harry Bloody Potter careened into the common room, straightening his purple piped robes distractedly. He froze, staring at Pansy’s hand raised to Draco’s lips.

“Er, hey.” Potter mumbled; eyes cast downward. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s fine Potter,” Draco said, dropping Pansy’s hand. “We’re just heading to breakfast.”

“Yeah, me too,” Potter said distractedly, as he tumbled toward the entryway.

Draco nodded his head and his fellow former-Slytherins fell into step with him, following a few steps behind Potter.

They walked silently to the Great Hall and took their usual places at the end of the eighth year table.

“Pansy, you look really nice today.” Luna said with a soft smile. Pansy smiled back.

Draco pondered that as he sat down, pulling platters of food his way. He ate heartily, Tuesdays were always rough on him, energy-wise. Merlin, he hated Tuesdays.

First, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts, which everyone in the eighth year was taking, meaning he had to endure their accusing glares. Then he had Arithmancy, where he was paired with none other than Grange-Hermione.

He had finally conceded Potter’s point that he should be using given names with his classmates, but honestly, he wasn’t sure if he could ever call Potter ‘Harry’. Calling Potter by his first name evoked a level of familiarity he wasn’t sure he could handle.

He brought a graceful forkful of eggs into his mouth, pouring cream and sugar into his morning tea. He preferred a sweet milky blend when he woke up, and when he was upset. He drank gratefully, washing down his mouthful of food.

After eating quickly, he followed the other eighth years to the Defense classroom. Their new professor, Professor Gwilt, was a retired Auror with a gruff voice. Gwilt paired them up, saying today was a practical lesson on dueling. Of course, Draco was paired with Harry Sodding Potter.

The faced each other hesitantly, as though each were unwilling to risk the fragile friendship they had forged.

Draco struck first; a nonverbal jinx tossed Potter’s way. Potter rolled aside, flinging a hex of some sort at Draco. Draco’s muttered Shield Charm deflected the next mark. Draco fired off a Jelly-Legs Jinx, dodging to the side to keep from Potter’s retaliation. They began dueling in earnest, firing spell after spell, feet dancing as they kept from getting hit by the other’s magic. The air crackled with power, the smell of ozone permeating the room.

Draco swept his sweaty fringe back, hiding behind an overturned desk. He considered his options quickly. The only thing he thought might work was if he distracted Potter’s service animal. It was a low blow, and he knew it, but he really wanted to best Potter even just the once. He conjured a snake, the same as he had in second year, between his desk and Potter’s hidey-hole behind a knocked-over cupboard. He immediately heard a lot of hissing and tossed himself sideways, avoiding Potter’s hex.

He gave it another moment and then flung himself out from behind his barrier. Just as he flicked his arm out, aiming to cast an Expelliarmus, his own wand flew from his grasp. He summoned it back quickly, but not before Potter hit him with a full Body-Bind. His wand flew back to his frozen hand, and then fell, clattering to the floor.

Bollocks. Potter hadn’t used Expelliarmus, and they both knew it. Draco had basically thrown his wand away in the middle of a fight, though he hoped no one else had noticed.

Potter cancelled the Body-Bind, as Draco looked around. Every eye was on him. It looked like his duel with Potter had drawn everyone’s attention, as students were lined up along the wall, watching avidly. Double bollocks.

“Good fight, mate,” Potter said, coming up to shake his hand. Draco shook it, not wanting to make eye contact. When he glanced up, he saw something that looked very much like sympathy in Potter’s eye.

Draco spent the rest of the morning silent. He didn’t respond to Blaise or Pansy’s conversation at lunch, earning a few concerned glances. He stabbed a chip moodily with his fork, conversation a low murmur in the background. His fellow Slytherins finally gave up trying to draw him out and spent the rest of the meal talking about the full roll of parchment Gwilt had assigned them on the uses of the Shield Charm. Draco couldn’t care less.

He headed off to Arithmancy, Hermione at his side.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked him, midway through the lesson.

“Talk about what?” He snapped.

“Whatever it is that has you in this bad a mood.” She said.

“No.”

“Alright then. If you change your mind, I’m here.” Wasn’t that just rich? Hermione Granger, the muggleborn tormented by Draco for years, was offering him comfort? He almost barked a laugh at the turn his life had taken, but abstained at the last second, not wanting Hermione to ask to share the joke.

After class he ate his dinner, went back to the Common Room, and did his homework. At half past eight, he got up.

“Where are you off to?” Longbottom asked suspiciously, from next to the fireplace.

“None of your damn business.” Draco replied, scathingly. Normally he tried to keep a civil tone, but now, after the day he had had, he just couldn’t be bothered. With that, he left the dorms.

He walked through the castle quietly, feet quiet upon the stone floors. A soft echo of his steps reverberated along the halls and he frowned to himself.

Finally, he made his way to the still-damaged west tower. There, he set to work. He rolled up his left sleeve and began the complicated magic that rebuilt the castle walls. He Summoned stones, cleansed them of Dark magic, and replaced them in the walls, building the tower back to its former glory. He built up a sweat and swept his fringe from his face. Distractedly, he tied his hair into a loose knot at the base of his skull, as he again heard shuffling behind him.

“Are you going to come out, Potter? Or just stare at me working all night?” Draco asked loudly.

“How did you know it was me?” Potter asked as he appeared from nowhere. As if Draco didn’t know what Potter’s cologne smelled like or knew the weight of his gaze.

Draco didn’t answer, he merely scowled and continued working.

“Seriously, what are you doing?” Potter asked, coming up to stand beside him.

“What does it bloody look like?” Draco said snidely. “I’m rebuilding the castle, as per my probation. Probation which you so magnanimously helped me get, doing magic way beyond the level of a N.E.W.T. student.”

“You do this often then?” Potter asked quietly.

“Every Tuesday and Thursday since my trial,” Draco answered harshly.

“I didn’t know,” Potter said softly.

“Well it’s not like I bloody advertise it,” Draco said.

“Right, how can I help?”

“I don’t need help.” Draco said.

“But I want to,” Potter said, still softly, “I want to help rebuild Hogwarts.”

“Fine!” Draco snapped, “I seem to remember you can Summon things, so Summon the stones so I can cleanse them. Then I’ll build them back into the wall.”

In truth, Draco wound up showing Potter how to put the stones back into the wall, both of them weaving the magic of the castle back together with every block.

Draco dropped his wand again, but thankfully Potter didn’t mention it, he merely Summoned it, the same as he had the blocks, and wordlessly handed it back.

At midnight, Draco slumped against the freshly built wall, sliding down to sit. He rested his head back, rubbing his forearms distractedly. Potter flopped down beside him, running a hand through the bird’s nest he called hair. Draco ached to echo that touch but contented himself with scowling again.

Stupid Potter with his stupid touchable hair.

Instead he lifted a trembling hand to brush his own hair back, it had slipped from the knot some time ago.

“I noticed you drop stuff,” Potter mumbled, as eloquent as always.

“Wow, Potter, your powers of observation never cease to amaze,” Draco sniped.

“Fine, have it your way then,” Potter snapped back, trying to rise.

“Wait,” Draco said, already regretting breaking the fragile truce they had forged. Potter settled back down, silently seething. “Look, I don’t like talking about it.”

“I get that,” Potter said quietly, his voice much softer.

“So, I’m only going to say this once,” Draco continued, talking over Potter. “During the war, the Dark Lord got mad, and he Crucioed me. A lot. More than he should have. Gave me nerve damage.” Draco raise a trembling hand. “It makes it hard to grasp things, sometimes.”

“Does it hurt?” Potter asked gently, and how did his voice get that gentle? Draco had never heard anyone other than Pansy, and perhaps his mother, use that soft of a voice with him.

“Not always,” Draco replied. “Sometimes it’s like pins and needles.”

“I’m sorry,” Potter said.

“I don’t want your pity,” Draco said softly, “It is what it is, Potter, we all have scars from the war. It’s just that some you can’t see.”

“Harry.”

“Potter.”

“So, what did you do that pissed off Voldemort that badly?” Potter asked.

“Do you really have to ask?” Draco said instead.

“No,” Potter whispered, “I saw it.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, after we left the manor, Voldemort was so angry his Occlumency shields went down. I saw it all.”

“Right, well, as much as I’m enjoying this horribly awkward conversation, I think it’s time to get back to the dorm, I’m exhausted and tomorrow is Herbology.” Draco said.

…

That night Draco was unsurprised to be shaken awake from a nightmare. However, he was surprised to be shaken awake by none other than Potter, who looked about as good as Draco felt.

“Potter, what the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“Sorry, it’s just that I had my own nightmare and was on my way to the Common Room to make a cup of tea when I heard you crying.” Potter mumbled.

“I was not crying, Potter.” Draco sniffed, rubbing his eyes roughly.

“Whatever you say, Draco,” Potter said. “Do you want a cuppa? It helps.”

“No, Potty, I don’t want anything from you,” Draco snapped.

“Have it your way then,” Potter said stiffly, repeating his words from earlier. He went to leave.

“Potter,” Draco called softly as Potter reached the door. He froze, back still turned, waiting. “I'd appreciate a cup of tea, please.”

Potter nodded, still not turning around, and left the room.

Quickly Draco summoned his wand and cast a few cleaning charms on himself and the sheets, he was drenched in sweat and the room stank of his fear. Hastily he cast a Mouth-Freshening Charm, crying had always left him with horrendous breath.

Potter came back to the room then, carrying two mugs. He set one on the bedside table, looking awkward.

“Right then, there you are.” He turned to leave.

“Potter, stay a while?” Draco found himself saying. He sat up fully, pulling his legs up beneath him. Potter looked back at him and something more than the broken tone of a former Death Eater must have convinced him, because he sat at the edge of Draco’s bed, tea held firmly in his thick fingers.

“What was it?” Potter asked quietly.

“The night Vince died. The Fiendfyre.” Draco whispered. He could still feel that cloying heat, beating into his skin, his shirt clinging to his sweaty back. He had been more desperate that night than ever before. Vince had been uncontrollable for the first time, truly trying to kill Potter, despite Draco’s anxious protestations that Potter was claimed by the Dark Lord and now look where that had got him. Shaking himself roughly, he remembered where he was and who he was with. “You?”

“The Forest, when your mum saved my life.” Potter looked sad, so very sorrowful, that Draco couldn’t resist reaching out and clasping a hand on Potter’s, breaking every rule he had ever set for himself. Potter's brown skin was just as warm as he remembered, from that night of the Fiendfyre, when he had pressed himself along Potter’s back, arms wrapped around his muscled stomach.

“I’m glad she did,” Draco said quietly.

“Me too,” Potter whispered, leaning into Draco’s touch.

“Can I ask a question?” Draco asked. At Potter’s nod, he continued, “How did you survive, in the Forest, when he cast the Killing Curse at you?”

“I didn’t,” Potter said simply.

“What?”

“I didn’t survive. I really did die,” Potter said, his eyes becoming unfocused as he clearly lost himself to his memories. “I just came back, after.”

“I’m glad,” Draco said again, shifting closer to Potter, whose hand he was now clutching desperately.

“Yeah, me too,” Potter said, eyes clearing and dropping to Draco’s mouth. When had they gotten so close? Draco felt the weight of that gaze as he hastily licked his lips. He could feel himself shifting closer to Potter, unable to stop himself from dropping his own stare to Potter’s lips. He could feel himself leaning forward, lost in the gravity that was Potter’s mouth.

Abruptly, Potter stood, tea sloshing over the rim of his mug.

“Right, well I’d better get back to bed,” Potter mumbled, hastily backing toward the door. “Goodnight, Draco.”

“Goodnight, Potter,” Draco said softly.

What the bloody hell had just happened?

He had almost kissed Harry Sodding Potter. If that wasn’t the fastest way to burn his life to the ground, he didn’t know what was. That was all he needed, for Harry Bloody Potter to know he preferred men over women. He couldn’t imagine Potter would keep that knowledge to himself. True, post-war Potter seemed oddly calmer and more peaceful than before, but Draco didn’t dare assume it went as far as knowing a former archenemy was bent without telling the papers at the least. Besides, Potter was clearly with Granger these days, judging by the amount of hand-holding the two indulged in in the halls.

Draco drank his tea, finding comfort in the fragrant steam. He was surprised to find that the tea was prepared perfectly. He placed the empty mug back on his bedside table and flipped his sweat-soaked pillow over, settling beneath the duvet.

He lay awake for what seemed ages, thoughts of bespectacled green eyes and mussed black curls circling around his head.

When he did fall back asleep, he was immediately back in the Room of Hidden Things. His fear and terror rose in his throat like bile as his memories over came him.

The Fiendfyre was right behind him, as he frantically climbed a tall stack of forgotten furniture. The heat was licking his ankles, making him scramble faster. Vincent’s screams were echoing through the air as he fell back into the flames he had created. The flames were unending, as was the horror.

“Vince,” Draco cried, getting a mouthful of hot ash and smoke. And then Harry Bloody Potter swooped down, hand outstretched. Draco grasped it desperately, feeling his muscles protest as he was slung onto the broom, fitting tight behind Potter.

The dream changed.

Draco was still pressed against Potter, but now they were facing each other. His heartbeat lodged in his throat. The room wasn’t burning anymore, but Potter’s eyes were, the green-eyed stare was blazing, searing through Draco. Potter was so close Draco could feel the hard length of him pressed against his hip. Potter leaned forward, still staring, tilting his head to the side. Draco swayed in mirror movement, frantic to taste, to touch, to feel-

His wand vibrated, alarm going off and waking him with a jolt.

Chapter Text

The day before Halloween dawned bright and cold, and Harry felt the weight of the war more harshly than he had in weeks. The ghosts of his loved ones, especially his parents, felt particularly heavy. After his customary morning shower, he dressed quickly, keeping Kai close all the while. She wriggled enthusiastically in his hair, delighted by his intense emotions.

“So much sorrow. Why so much sorrow on this day?” she hissed.

“We approach the day I lost my parents,” Harry whispered.

“What are parents?” Kai wanted to know.

“The ones who made me, who should be here when I graduate from Hogwarts," Harry hissed.

“Ah, snakes do not have these ‘parents’. We hatch from an egg and are alone from that moment," Kai said silibantly. “Where did you lose them?"

“They died," Harry said, scrubbing his face to try and keep the tears at bay.

“The long sleep," came her enigmatic response. Harry shrugged and left his room, aiming for the Great Hall. He sat at the Slytherin end, taking one look at Dean and Seamus roughhousing and walking right past. The easy joviality of the Gryffindors was grating today.

If the three Slytherins were surprised by Harry sitting at their isolated end of the table, they didn’t show it when they made their appearance not ten minutes later. Luna, who came in arm-in-arm with Pansy, sat next to him and patted his shoulder softly.

“Expecto Patronum!" Luna exclaimed, and when her silver hare appeared, she spoke to it softly. “Please tell Hermione that Harry is already at breakfast, so she doesn’t need to wait for him.”

Harry groaned, dropping his face into his hands. He had forgotten about Hermione. How could he have forgotten after they had eaten breakfast together every day so far this term? God he was such a terrible friend.

“Potter, are you okay?” came a tentative voice.

“Yeah, Draco, I’m fine. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Harry didn’t need to look up to know it was Draco who had asked, no one else at the table bothered to call him Potter.

“Is that another muggle expression?” Harry could hear Draco whisper at Pansy, who must have shrugged in response as he heard a rustle of fabric.

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled from between his fingers. “It means I woke up in a bad mood.”

Just then Hermione made her appearance, sliding into the spot next to Harry and taking his hand in hers. The others respected his mood, and the conversation flowed around him, not requiring him to participate.

“You know, you two should be ashamed of yourselves,” said a familiar voice from behind Harry. Harry glanced around, what he saw made his heart pound. Ginny was angrily glaring at Harry and Hermione’s clasped hands.

“It’s none of your business, Gin,” Harry said cuttingly.

“I’ve tried not to say anything, but the way you flaunt your relationship is disgusting.” Ginny said viciously. “Tell me, were you already shagging when you broke up with me, at my brother’s funeral?"

“We are not shagging!” Harry said, raising from his seat.

“It’s not worth it, Harry,” Hermione said with a tug to his hand. He shook her off.

“Don’t make me laugh, Harry! Ron already told me he found you in bed together!” The entire table had gone quiet.

“Right, Ginny, obviously you have things you want to shout at me, and I don’t think this is the place.” Harry said, stepping over the wooden bench, trying valiantly to keep his anger under control long enough to get out of the Great Hall.

“You’re right, I do want to shout at you, you pathetic bastard!” Ginny yelled. Not trusting himself to speak, he turned and headed toward the closest unused classroom he knew. “Don’t walk away when I’m talking to you!”

Harry ignored her huffing and puffing as she followed him out of the Great Hall. He found the classroom he wanted and shuffled her inside, locking the door and throwing up a Silencing Charm for good measure.

“Alright, say what you need to say,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Ron was your best mate! You shagged his girlfriend! You broke up with me and not ten minutes later, slunk away with her! The hex that Ron cast at you, the one Hermione rebounded on him, still hasn’t faded and it’s been months!” Ginny exploded. “He can’t get a job anywhere other than George’s shop because he’s bright bloody purple! And it was Fred’s funeral!"

Harry took a moment to marvel at Hermione’s Hexing ability.

“Look Ginny, I’m sorry you lost your brother, but you are so wrong about so many things I don’t even know where to start,” Harry said, pinching the brow of his nose beneath his glasses

“Why her, just tell me why her and not me,” Ginny said.

“Ginny, I’m not with Hermione. I’ve never been with her. The reason we snuck away from Fred’s funeral is because Ron was busy shagging Lavender while you and I were talking. When he showed up the next morning at Grimmauld Place, Hermione hexed Ron, Ron never even lifted his wand. Yes, we were in bed together,” Harry said, determined to sort this all out in one.

“I knew it! Were you two shagging the whole time you were in the tent?” Ginny exclaimed.

“Ginny, we were both dressed, I was sleeping on top of the blankets for fuck’s sake! Ron saw that I had my clothes on! The only reason we even slept next to each other was because you had told Hermione it helped with the nightmares to sleep next to someone!” Harry said, his voice rising.

“We were broken up!” Ginny said, her face as red as Ron’s had ever been.

“Exactly, Ginny! We were broken up and we still are! I didn’t break up with you at your brother’s funeral because we weren’t together! Why do you even care who I’m shagging or not shagging?”

“Because Hermione was Ron’s girlfriend! He loved her for years! I loved you for years!” Ginny screamed.

“Oh my god, Ginny, I’m GAY!” Harry shouted back, truly angry now. Ginny froze. “I’ve never shagged Hermione, and I’ll never shag you! So, fuck off!”

Harry stomped to the door, wrenching it on its hinges. Ginny still hadn’t moved, her mouth was opening and closing like a fish, looking remarkably like Ron in that moment.

Harry went back to the Great Hall, shaking in rage. Kai hissed cheerfully from atop his head. He took his bag from his spot, the eighth year table silent at his approach, and stalked to class.

Harry’s first class on Fridays was Potions, which meant he was going to be stuck in the dungeons for hours while Slughorn was salivating over him and he was confusing beetle eyes with raspberry seeds. Wonderful.

He slammed his bag down on his desk, slumping in his chair.

“Alright, Harry?” he heard Hermione ask.

“Not particularly, but thanks for asking ‘Mione.” Harry mumbled. She squeezed his hand once in sympathy and then headed to her desk, again partnered with Blaise.

“So, Potter, trouble in paradise?” came the scathing voice of Draco.

“Not now, Draco,” Harry warned, as Draco sat next to him at their small table. He thought of a few more insults he should have said to Ginny and resolved to ask Hermione for a good hex.

“Today you will be partnering up to start your term project, Polyjuice Potion. As the potion takes a month if done properly, this will give you multiple chances to do it right before end of term. If you manage to complete it properly the first time, a second potion will be made available to brew for extra credit,” Professor Slughorn said from the front of class.

“Made up with the Weaselette, have you? Throwing over Granger for her?” Draco muttered from the corner of his mouth. Harry, who’s temper Kai had barely started to contain, threatened to burst free again. “Going to have a brood of red-haired children?”

“You know what, Malfoy? You can fuck right off too,” Harry snapped. He left his bag and his books and stomped out of the room.

“Harry, dear boy, where are you off to?” Slughorn called. Harry ignored him and slammed the door behind him. He barely made it to the closest shadowed alcove before he collapsed on the ground, his anger shifting to a breathless anxiety. Malfoy couldn’t know what touchy a subject family was for him today. Harry scrabbled his hands, searching for something to hold onto, but he had nothing aside from stone floors. He lowered his head, clutching his hair as he dislodged Kai.

“What have I done, to warrant such treatment?” Kai hissed irritably.

“Nothing, sorry,” Harry mumbled as he scooped her back up, placing her on the back of his head. He could feel the start of a panic attack hitting him. He couldn’t do anything right today. His chest started to tighten and his breathing shortened, coming in small gasps.

“Potter, why are you on the floor?” Draco’s voice came from above him.

“Hand,” Harry flung his own up, anxious for something to hold onto.

“What?” Draco said.

“Hand!” Harry insisted, shaking his fingers, his head still bowed. He felt cool long fingers envelope his own and he gave a small tug. Draco overbalanced and sat hastily next to him.

Harry took a few breaths, holding onto Draco’s hand tightly.

“Are you alright Potter?” Draco asked quietly.

“Not really,” Harry replied.

“I’m sorry, about what I said.”

“It’s fine, it’s just this day,” he said roughly.

“What’s today?” Draco asked softly.

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” Harry whispered.

“Yes, I’m aware Potter, tomorrow is All Hallow’s Eve.”

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of my parents’ death,” Harry said with a squeeze to Draco’s hand.

“Oh Salazar, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.” Draco stammered out.

“Just hold my bloody hand,” Harry ground out.

“Is this why you always hold Hermione’s hand?” Draco asked slowly.

“Yes, Draco. It helps with my panic attacks.” Harry bit off.

“So, you aren’t sleeping with Granger then?”

“Hermione, and no.”

“Are you sure?” Draco insisted.

“Oh my god, Draco, I’m gay!" Harry snapped, tired of everyone assuming he was sleeping with his best mate. Draco was silent for a long time, absently rubbing Harry’s knuckles. Their shoulders brushed.

“Look, I’m sorry if it bugs you, but it’s just who I am.” Harry said, finally calming down. Draco’s fingers hadn’t stopped caressing his knuckles and Harry felt himself relaxing into that touch.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Draco said gently.

“A blood purist like you?” Harry asked, curious about what would be the wizarding world’s reaction.

“I’m not who I was a year ago, Harry,” Draco said softly. “I thought you knew that.”

“Er, yeah I did, I do. Sorry, I just don’t know how people are going to react. Muggles aren’t the best with people being queer,” Harry mumbled.

“In the wizarding world, it isn’t that big of a deal. Of course, for the only child of a pureblood line such as myself it isn’t really accepted. But the general population doesn’t really care. Being the Chosen One, you’ll only bring more acceptance,” Draco said softly.

“Bloody wonderful, alert the press,” Harry grunted.

“I’m not going to tell the press,” Draco said.

“It wouldn’t bother me if you did. Save me the trouble of telling everyone,” Harry shrugged, thinking it over.

“If you really don’t mind people knowing, could I maybe tell Pansy? Only, I tell her everything,” Draco asked, his digits still brushing Harry’s.

“That’s fine, Draco, I really don’t care who you tell,” Harry said. Let Draco gossip his heart out about the Savior being bent with the other former Slytherins, what did he care?

“Thanks, Harry. You feel up to going back to class now?”

“No, but let’s go anyway.”

They spent the class preparing ingredients. When Harry went to shred the boomslang skin, Draco grabbed his wrist.

“No, dice it.”

“The instructions say shred.”

“Well read, but it’s autumn. It’s better to dice boomslang skin in the autumn if the potion has to do with alteration, you know, turning one thing into something else. You don’t get more altered than Polyjuice,” Draco said softly, Harry had to lean forward to hear him over the rest of the class.

“So, you’re telling me the preparation of ingredients actually matters based on season?” Harry asked curiously.

“Of course, it does! You wouldn’t crush aconite petals in the summer, and dried mandrake roots are always better in the winter. Honestly, Harry, have we been taking the same Potions class all these years?” There, that was the second time Draco had called him Harry. Harry had been bugging Draco to call him by his given name for weeks and now Draco was, and he wasn’t sure his poor little gay heart could take the sound of his name coming from that mouth. The soft, kissable-looking mouth that Harry was currently staring at in the middle of class.

Bloody hell, he needed to find Hermione. Oh, she was going to be smug, unbearable, really.

After class, Harry stumbled to his feet. “Right, I’m off to lunch. I need to talk to Hermione,” Harry began awkwardly.

“That’s fine, Harry.” There it was again. “I need to talk to Pansy anyway.”

Harry backed away, taking his chance to flee. Draco was going to gossip with his friends about Harry’s sexuality and Harry really didn’t want to be in earshot for that conversation.

“Hiya ‘Mione can we go to lunch?” he asked as he approached the worktable she shared with Blaise. “Hey Blaise, Draco probably wants to talk to you.”

“Did he tell you what for?” Blaise asked.

“Possibly has to do with the fact that I told him I’m gay,” Harry said casually, covertly watching Blaise’s reaction.

“Cheers,” Blaise said, not even batting an eye, as he left to catch up with Draco and Pansy, who were walking toward the door.

“Harry James Potter!” Hermione exclaimed as Harry flinched.

“Yeah, ‘Mione?” Harry said brightly.

“You told Draco Malfoy that you’re gay?”

“Yup.”

“Have you lost your bloody mind? What if he goes to the papers?” Hermione said urgently as she packed up her bag.

“Honestly, I hope he does, would save me a load of trouble.” Harry feigned being thoughtful.

“Harry!"

“Look, ‘Mione, what does it matter? I’ve got no parents to worry about, and my dad would have accepted it if he knew. The only person I can’t lose is you, you’re my best mate, and you already know.” Hermione beamed at him. “Besides, I may have accidentally told Ginny earlier and I’m sure it’s going to make the rounds sooner rather than later.”

They walked toward the Great Hall, talking briskly.

They sat alone, the other eighth years giving them space after Harry’s two public outbursts that morning. Harry cast a quick Muffliato to be safe, this was not a conversation he wanted overheard.

“Right, Hermione, all of this is beside the point,” Harry said as he tugged a plate of sandwiches closer to them.

“Then what is the point?” Hermione asked as she took a ham and swiss.

“I think I like Draco.”

“Yes, he is rather nice these days, isn’t he?” Hermione said, spreading mustard on her bread.

“No, ‘Mione, I think I like Draco.” There, it was out. He had said it and now he could stare at his sandwich.

“Was that some sort of secret?”

“What?” Harry knocked over his goblet of pumpkin juice. Hastily he used a spell to clean it up.

“Harry, I’ve known you fancy Draco for ages. The way you look at him!” Hermione started giggling.

“Wait, how do I look at him?”

“Like he’s the last slice of treacle tart and you haven’t eaten in days.”

“Mmm, treacle tart, I love treacle tart!” Harry moaned.

“Exactly, that’s the look!” Hermione said, waving her hand at Harry’s face. Harry registered what she was saying.

“Hermione, I don’t love Draco!” Harry almost shouted, and then glanced around, grateful his charm had held. “Please, I barely fancy the pointy git.”

“Okay Harry, whatever you say,” Hermione giggled as Harry cancelled the Muffliato.

Fridays after lunch was Charms, where Flitwick always gave Luna extra points for things such as ‘excellent wrist movement’ and ‘perfect pronunciation’.

The eighth years had their own hourglass in the Great Hall, aubergine jewels signifying their points. There might only be eighteen of them, but they were giving Gryffindor a run for their money, what with the fondness of professors for war heroes.

“Come on, I need to talk to Pansy about tomorrow,” Hermione said as she tugged Harry from the table.

“What about tomorrow?” Harry asked.

“I was thinking we could have a party after the feast, and I need Pansy’s help to get the alcohol into the castle.”

“A party? Alcohol? Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?” Harry asked.

“It’s all in the spirit of interhouse unity,” Hermione said with her nose in the air. “Pansy!”

Pansy fell into step with Hermione as they made their way to Charms. Harry fell back as he left them to their scheming.

“Trust me, I can get enough firewhiskey in here to drown a hippogriff,” Pansy was giggling.

“Harry,” Draco said from somewhere near his elbow. “What did Ginny mean when she said Ron found you in bed with Hermione?”

“Oh, that,” Harry laughed as Blaise came up beside them. “Hermione and I slept next to each other after Fred’s funeral. It helps with the nightmares to share a bed. He came in just after we woke up. We were both fully clothed.”

“Why wasn’t he there too?” Draco asked.

“Er, the night before, he shagged someone else, we snuck away from the Burrow as soon as Hermione realized.”

“I hope you kicked his bloody arse!” Blaise exclaimed. Harry laughed loudly, drawing a few glances.

“You think Hermione Granger needs my help? She hexed him purple and he’s got the word cheat stamped across his forehead right now,” he chuckled.

“She did?” Blaise threw a surprised glance at Hermione’s back.

“Oh yeah, don’t get on her bad side,” Harry snickered, Draco and Blaise joining in.

“What are you laughing about?” Luna asked, as they reached the Charms classroom.

“Hermione hexing Ron,” Harry smirked.

“Hermione did that? He told me it was a Wheezes product gone wrong,” Luna said thoughtfully. “I saw him over summer and asked him if he had changed his skin to match his girlfriend.”

“So, they’re dating?” Hermione asked, her head lifting from where she had sat with Pansy.

“I think they’re engaged,” Luna said in her lilting voice.

“Good for him,” Hermione said flatly. Harry reached down to hold her hand, but she shook him off.

“Seriously, Harry, it’s okay. I knew he picked her months ago. I’m alright.” She muttered.

“Well, he’s a bloody idiot,” Harry said loudly, earning a ‘hear, hear’ from the Slytherins and Hermione’s grateful smile. Luna continued smiling dreamily, taking her seat on the other side of Pansy, who scooted back Luna’s chair for her with an ankle.

If anyone had told Harry just a few months ago that he would sit next to Draco Malfoy as Draco cheered Hermione hexing Ron he would have asked if they were feeling alright. If they had told him he would find the sight of Draco laughing as delectable and precious as he did, as though he was blessed to see something not many others got to see, he’d have chucked them into St Mungo’s.

…

That evening, after Charms, Harry and Hermione sat at their favorite table, sitting on opposite sofas. Harry was concentrating on a particularly annoying essay for Transfiguration, where he was attempting to explain the differences between Transfigured furniture and Conjured (Transfigured furniture lasted longer) and Harry was trying to milk a full roll out of that simple statement when none other than Draco Malfoy sat next to him. Harry froze. Blaise sat next to Hermione, as Luna and Pansy sat at the end of the low table on the floor together.

The newcomers pulled out books and parchment and quills, Harry trying to control his fluttering heart.

“What are you doing, Draco?” Harry whispered.

“Studying,” Draco said softly.

“You’ve never studied with us.”

“Yeah well, everywhere else is full.”

Harry looked around at his words and couldn’t really fault him there. Most other chairs were taken. Then Harry thought back, he couldn’t remember the last time the Slytherins had studied in the Common Room. A few weeks back, someone had jinxed their books to fly around them, trying to bite as fiercely as the Monster Book of Monsters, and Harry hadn’t seen them since. He assumed they were in one of their rooms, studying together, ever since.

“Merlin, Harry, thank Salazar you’re the Savior,” Draco suddenly exclaimed, having read Harry’s homework over his shoulder. “If I turned in that drivel, I’d get a Troll for sure!”

“Don’t call me that! And there’s nothing wrong with my essay!” Harry exclaimed. Draco twitched it from his grasp.

“Transfigured furniture lasts longer,” Draco read, “because it just does.”

“It’s a first draft!” Harry exclaimed, face heating. Kai hissed happily from his breast pocket.

“I like the pale one. He gives you so much delicious mortification.”

“Conjured furniture disappears faster because I’m Harry Pot”-

“Alright! You try sitting next to Hermione when you’re distracted and don’t want to study!” Harry exclaimed, grabbing the parchment roughly. “You’d write anything too, to keep her from harping on you when you just want to think!”

“Seriously, Hermione, you let him turn this rubbish in?” Draco asked as he chuckled to himself.

“It keeps him quiet while I study, and he works it out in the end,” Hermione said distractedly as she flipped through her reference books. “Do you know what Vector meant with question seven? I can’t find any mention of it in my books.”

“Yeah, here,” Draco dug into his bag, pulling out a small ancient looking book. He leaned over Harry to hand the book to Hermione, and Harry held his breath, so he didn’t get a nose full of Draco’s expensive cologne. “Careful of the spine, it’s fragile.”

“Where did you get this,” Hermione’s voice was full of wonder as she carefully opened the cover.

“It was in the Malfoy family library,” Draco said softly, leaning over Harry again. He took the book back and flipped it to the proper page, giving it again to Hermione. Harry sat there, tortured. He glanced up at Blaise who was staring intensely at his own essay. He caught Pansy’s eye. She gave him a searching look, and he realized he was sitting next to Draco Malfoy, who was leaning over him, making eye contact with his fiancée. He resolved to being more circumspect. Just then, Draco grabbed his knee, and he felt his heart lodge back into his throat.

“Harry, have you done the Herbology essay?” Harry nodded as Luna asked.

“Yeah, it’s in my room. I can go grab it,” he started to rise and Draco’s hand fell away.

“No that’s fine. I don’t want to copy. But can you explain the difference between Devil’s Snare and Creeping Jenny?”

“Yeah, of course Luna. It all has to do with the shape of the leaves,” Harry started to explain. “Also, what color fluid leaks from a broken stem. Muggle plants usually leak white or clear. Magical plants have a bit more variety. Devil's Snare has turquoise sap,” just then Nomi streaked past, squeaking as she bounded up to none other than Blaise. He chuckled, and picked her up, tickling her tummy.

“Er, Blaise,” Harry began awkwardly, “why do you like cats so much but don’t have one of your own?”

“My mum is dead allergic,” Blaise said, as the adolescent cat attacked his hand. “So, I can’t get one until I move out. Might even wind up with more.”

“Plus, it has the added benefit of keeping his mum from smothering him in hugs when he goes home on holiday,” Pansy quipped, as Luna leaned her head onto Pansy’s shoulder, purple ink smeared along one cheekbone.

“Can I go to the pale one? His sorrow is mouth-watering.” Kai asked from his pocket.

“Er, let me ask him first,” Harry hissed back.

“Draco, do you mind if Kai feeds from you? She’s hungry.” Harry asked quietly, hoping no one else would hear.

“I suppose,” Draco responded. “As long as you promise she won’t bite.”

“She won’t,” Harry laughed. “I was mostly teasing.”

“Mostly?”

“You must promise not to bite the pale one. He fears your fangs.”

“As he should, I am very strong and dangerous.” She responded with an important hiss. Harry laughed as he handed the tiny white snake to Draco, who let her wind her way through his platinum locks.

“Don’t worry, she’s not fatal.”

“She’s venomous?” Draco bit out stiffly.

“Just a bit? It only stings a little, she’s too small to really hurt.” Harry laughed, as he glanced at Hermione. She was watching Blaise play with her kitten with a fond expression on her face.

Chapter Text

The next morning Draco was walking with a sense of purpose. The night before, he had laid in bed, thinking about how he could help the Chosen One through what was bound to be a difficult day. He had struck upon an idea and then fallen asleep, boneless and weary.

Now, he found himself in front of a stone gargoyle, the entrance to the Headmistress’s office.

“Password?” the gargoyle asked in a gravely voice.

“Can you please tell the Headmistress that Draco Malfoy is here to see her?” the statue froze as it passed on the message.

“She is willing to see you,” the gargoyle rasped as it stepped to the side, stairs winding up behind it.

Draco stepped onto the moving staircase, the stone rough beneath his feet. All too soon, he was knocking on the door of the McGonagall’s office, his blush starting to rise already.

“Enter.”

“Headmistress,” Draco began with a nod. She gazed at him curiously.

“I assume you know what today is?” he asked her quietly.

“I’ve had to organize an entire feast, Mr. Malfoy. You can rest assured I know today is Halloween.” she answered in her crisp Scottish brogue.

“Actually, I meant something a little more personable about one of your students,” Draco began hesitantly.

“Do not beat around the bush, Mr. Malfoy. I don’t have time for guessing games,” she barked out.

“Fine. Today marks the seventeen-year anniversary of Harry Potter’s parents’ death and I think you should give him a pass to visit their graves this morning. Along with Hermione, I’m sure he won’t want to go alone,” Draco said, feeling the blush beat across his cheekbones. He kept his eyes trained down.

“That is… very considerate of you, Mr. Malfoy,” the Headmistress said in the softest voice he had ever heard her use. “I will allow Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger to leave the school. Give me a moment.”

McGonagall conjured up her cat patronus, asking for permission to create a Portkey for Harry Potter plus one to visit his parent’s grave.

“Go to Minister Shacklebolt,” she barked. The cat whisked off, darting through the open window.

“This is unexpected, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said briskly, her eyes searching his face.

“I strive to be unpredictable,” Draco replied, avoiding her penetrating gaze.

They sat in silence after that. McGonagall rifling through parchment and Draco staring at the wall as he thought of the horribly insightful conversation he had shared with Pansy and Blaise the night before. They had met in Blaise’s room after dinner, to study as they had been for weeks.

“So, are we going to talk about it?” Blaise had finally asked.

“Talk about what?” Draco had said with a sinking feeling.

“The fact that Potter is gay?” Blaise had said. Draco’s heart dropped. He hadn’t thought Blaise was prejudiced but honestly, he’d barely known the bloke further than being the exceptionally fit lad that set up the shower schedule in the Slytherin boys’ dorms.

“What of it?” Pansy had asked quickly.

“The fact that now Draco can make his move,” Blaise had said.

“Make my move?” Draco had asked weakly, his dropped heart now pounding in the vicinity of his knees.

“Come on you two, you’re the worst actors ever! With the way Pansy’s been hanging all over Luna and Draco staring at Potter’s bum every chance he gets, it wasn’t all that hard to figure out,” Blaise had crowed.

“You knew?” Pansy had said in a strangled voice.

“I do not stare at his bum!” Draco had squawked.

“You absolutely do, so us three Slytherins should make our moves before anyone else does,” Blaise had said with a crafty look.

“Us three?” Draco had wanted to know.

“Hermione. Now that I know she isn’t with Harry,” Just like that, the three Slytherins had begun to plot.

“Pansy, go grab Luna, let’s all go study in the Common Room,” Draco had said.

A silvery lynx slid through the open window, jolting Draco back to the moment.

“Permission given for a two-person Portkey at seven-thirty from Hogwarts to Godric’s Hallow, return at eleven.”

McGonagall nodded and picked up a chipped teacup from her shelves of random items. The lynx stalked forward and placed one paw on the teacup. The mug glowed blue for a second, raising and spinning before settling back down.

“You’d better take that to Mr. Potter quickly, it’s already just past seven,” McGonagall said.

Draco nodded his understanding. “Thank you, Headmistress.”

“I believe it is I who should be thanking you. Heaven knows not many have shown that boy kindness.”

Which was a bit rich, Draco thought, as he left her office. Harry Bloody Potter had the wizarding world at his feet, the adoration of his fans proven by the veritable mountain of fan mail he got each morning. Draco shook his head, today wasn’t about being annoyed by the git.

He got to the portrait of Saudade and gave the new password, “Cooperation.”

The Common Room was empty, and Draco hurried to the dorms. He sped through the hall, soft snores faint from behind closed doors. He stopped at the end of the hall and instead of turning right toward his own room, as he had all term; he did what he’d been wanting since he had seen Harry Potter dripping in the hallway, his toned chest and small dark nipples entirely too visible for Draco’s comfort. He turned left.

He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Merlin, this had to be the stupidest idea he’d ever had. It was wildly inappropriate and so invasive he’d understand if Potter decked him. Just as he went to turn away, to run like the coward he was, the door opened.

If Draco thought a nearly naked Harry Potter wearing nothing but a towel was heart wrenching, he was utterly unprepared for a Harry Potter that had clearly just woken up.

Harry’s too-large shirt was falling off one shoulder, exposing the swell of his trapezoid. His hair, always so unmanageable, was defying gravity in a way that surely only magic could explain. And his eyes, for once not tucked behind the barrier of his glasses, were unfocused and huge and the exact shade of asphodel leaves that Draco saw in his dreams.

“Draco?” Harry yawned, and Merlin did his breath stink but no stench on earth would force Draco to back away when Harry Potter looked this unguarded and vulnerable. “What’re you doing outside my room? Is everything okay?” Draco could hear the faint tones of worry bleeding into that voice and held up a hand in response.

“Everything is fine. It’s just, I, er.” Draco stammered, unsure of what to say now that he was faced with telling Harry what he had done.

“What is it?” Harry asked, scrubbing at his face.

“I remembered what you said, about what day this is,” Draco began quietly.

“You woke me up to remind me of that?” Harry sounded annoyed and oh sweet Merlin, this was where he got punched in the face.

“No, er, actually I got McGonagall to make you a Portkey for two to visit your parent’s grave. It leaves,” Draco cast a quick Tempus! “In sixteen minutes. Comes back at eleven.”

“You what?”

“I thought you’d want to see them,” Draco said inanely, like gazing at a headstone was something anyone wanted to do. He ducked his head, a blush rushing to his cheeks.

“Draco,” Harry said softly, and something in that voice forced Draco’s gaze back to Harry’s face. “Yeah, I do. Give me a few minutes to get dressed. Meet me in the Common Room?”

Draco nodded, unsure why Harry wanted him to wait in the Common Room, but dazedly heading that way anyway. If Harry had asked him to muck out a Hippogriff’s stall using that gentle voice, Draco wouldn’t have hesitated to get ankle deep in shit.

Ten minutes later, Harry careened into the Common Room, wearing a cozy-looking emerald jumper that brought out his eyes in a way that caused Draco’s heart to stutter.

“Time?” Harry asked breathlessly, holding Kai in his hands.

“Six minutes, you’d better run to wake Hermione.”

“What?”

“Hermione? The person you’re going to take with you?”

“You’re not coming?” Harry asked confusedly.

“I thought you’d want your best mate.” Draco mumbled.

“Oh, that. Well, that’s a nice thought but I don’t mind you.” Harry said.

“Thanks,” Draco said snidely.

“No, really Draco, please come. I don’t think even Hermione can get ready in six minutes and I really don’t want to go alone.” Harry said in that same quiet tone and fuck if Draco wasn’t helpless to nod his agreement.

“You’re going to have to leave Kai, she can’t Portkey.” Draco said as Harry ran back out of the room at breakneck speed. When he returned, he was breathless, and Draco was pleased to note he had used a Mouth-Freshening Charm at some point.

Harry grabbed a nearby quill and parchment and just as he loaded the ink, the teacup Draco was still clutching began to glow.

“Harry!” Draco exclaimed as Harry spun and thrust a hand out, finger just hitting the rim as the cup began to spin.

The sucking, twisting wrench that was Portkey travel slammed through Draco as they crossed distance in Draco’s least favorite way. They were tossed onto the outskirts of a small village nestled in an early snow, Harry stumbling into Draco, who caught him by the elbow.

The sun was just rising over the horizon as Harry shoved the quill he was still holding into a pocket. They set off, heading toward the sleepy village. Draco shook out his trembling hands, trying to relieve the pressure in his fingers.

“You okay?” Harry mumbled.

“Yeah, just used my arms a lot yesterday, in Charms.” Draco said softly, the snow muffling his words.

“Sorry,” Harry said in that same gentle tone. Draco almost hexed him for it, but then remembered this was Harry’s day.

“Don’t be.” Draco said instead.

“Sorry,” Harry said again, both of them staring up at the gates of the graveyard.

“It’s fine, Harry,” Draco whispered, as Harry’s hand found his.

They walked hand in hand through the graveyard, the bleached tombstones almost blending into the snow that was piled on them. Harry led Draco to his parent’s joint headstone, and Draco dropped his hand for a moment to conjure up a handful of calla lilies. He handed the bouquet to Harry, who placed them beneath the engraving honoring Harry’s parents.

Draco stepped away to cast the strongest warming and privacy spells he knew. He turned back and drank in the sight before him. Harry had his head bowed and was looking more broken than Draco had ever seen. Obviously, this was a side that Harry didn’t show many and Draco felt honored. He walked forward, stopping at Harry’s side. Harry grabbed his hand again, and Draco rubbed Harry’s knuckles with his thumb in what he hoped was a comforting way.

“Hey, Mum. Hey, Dad.” Harry said and Draco tried not to flinch. “I miss you. I miss you so much.”

Here Harry stopped, choking on a rough sob. Draco brought his other hand to their joined ones. He grasped tightly, hoping to ground Harry in this moment.

“This is Draco,” Harry continued. “He’s the reason I got to be here today, so I know you’d like him. Everyone thinks he’s a prat but deep down he’s actually nice.” Harry said with a sideways glance.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” Draco said, wondering if that was the right thing to say.

“Anyway, Mum, Dad. I just wanted to tell you something.” Harry continued, his grip almost crushing Draco’s hand.

“I’m gay.” Harry took a deep breath. “I know you’d be okay with it, Dad, and I hope you would be too, Mum. It’s just something that’s important to me and I wanted to tell you myself. I don’t intend on hiding who I am, so the papers will probably find out soon. My life might get complicated again if that happens, so I’m glad I got this chance to see you. I love you both.”

“They know, Harry.” Draco said softly. “They love you too.”

For a long while, they stood in silence. Draco respected Harry’s mood and watched the sunrise, the sky stained a burnt orange.

The silence blanketed the landscape, coating the very ground beneath them until-

“Harry James Potter! Where the bloody hell are you?” Hermione’s voice came from the silver otter that had darted up to Harry, seemingly from nowhere. “I checked your room, the library, the Great Hall. I checked the whole bloody castle! Send me back your patronus right now, before I lose the plot entirely!” The otter disintegrated, Hermione’s voice echoing through the graveyard.

“She sounds like she’s going a bit mad.” Draco said as Harry chuckled weakly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Harry said, making no move to pull out his wand.

“Well, are you going to send back your patronus?” Draco asked, secretly eager to see the famous stag up close.

“I, er, forgot my wand,” Harry mumbled, ducking his head.

“You did what?” Draco gasped.

“Look, I was rushed and half asleep!”

“How on earth did you manage to defeat the Dark Lord?” Draco laughed.

“Hermione, really,” Harry joined in on the laughter. “You think I’d have gotten anything done without her big brain?”

“You are rather helpless,” Draco said with a smirk.

“Oi! I am not!”

“Completely helpless, like a baby bird or something,” Draco said fondly. He cast another Tempus! “You ready? It’s quarter till.” Harry nodded and they said their farewells to the unanswering tombstone.

One dizzying Portkey ride later, they were dumped back in the middle of the eighth year Common Room, every eye on their still clasped hands. Draco quickly dropped Harry’s hand.

“Where the bloody hell have you two been?” Hermione said, rising up from her spot next to Blaise. Behind her, Blaise winked at Draco.

“Draco took me to see my parents,” Harry mumbled.

“What?” Hermione asked confused.

“It’s Halloween, ‘Mione,” Harry said. “Draco fixed a Portkey with McGonagall so we could go to Godric’s Hallow.”

“Oh my god, Harry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think.” Hermione reached forward and grabbed Harry’s hand. Draco wanted to growl, that hand had been his for the past few hours.

“It’s fine,” Harry said, shaking Hermione off, and Draco smiled. “I’m going to go get Kai.”

“Alright there, Harry?” Seamus Finnigan called from across the room. “He didn’t try any funny business with you, did he?”

“No, Seamus, it’s fine. Draco did me a bit of a favor is all,” Harry called back loudly. Every eye turned to Draco and he drew himself up, pasting a faint sneer onto his face. He turned back to the two sofas they had occupied the previous night, Luna and Pansy sitting where he and Harry had been.

“Come on, Pansy, I think Harry needs his seat back,” Luna said softly.

“Don’t bother, Luna, it’s fine,” Draco replied. He waved his wand and transfigured a nearby vacant chair into a low, squashy loveseat. He levitated it to their table.

Just then, Harry reappeared, his tiny snake tousling his already unmanageable hair. He sat next to Draco without hesitation and Draco almost preened.

“Why didn’t you take me too?” Hermione asked.

“I only had sixteen minutes, six after I got ready. I didn’t think you could get ready that fast,” Harry said, eyes on his knees.

“Harry, I’m a witch. I am always ready to go. If I wanted to be dressed and presentable it would take me two minutes and thirty-seven seconds to get everything I need.”

“How in the name of Merlin’s saggy tit do you know that, Hermione?” Blaise asked, looking at her in astonishment.

“I timed myself, during the war. I don’t even sleep without my wand, so I’m always ready to run if I have to cut everything. Two minutes and thirty-seven seconds is my average to get dressed, handle my hair, and summon my bag. Eight minutes and forty-eight seconds to grab my stuff and take down the tent and wards from when we were on the hunt.” That sobered everyone immediately.

“That mottled bastard fucked us all up, didn’t he?” Draco said softly. Hermione glanced at him swiftly.

“Yes, he really did,” she said with a weak chuckle.

Just then Draco’s stomach gave a loud grumble. “Sorry, I didn’t have time for breakfast earlier.” He muttered as Harry laughed.

“Can’t have you wasting away, can we? C’mon gang, let’s go to lunch,” Harry said with a smile that twisted Draco’s empty stomach back in on itself.

They left the Common Room, the six of them chatting as they crossed the never-ending hallways. Without saying anything, they all sat at the ‘Slytherin end’, as the entire eighth year had taken to calling the lonely end of the table.

Draco didn’t manage to sit next to Harry during lunch, Hermione and Luna had claimed the seats on either side, Hermione holding his left hand tightly. Draco sat opposite instead and tried not to stare at their clasped hands.

“Nice move, Draco,” Pansy breathed in his ear. “Talk later?”

He gave her a quick nod and applied himself vigorously to his plate. It wasn’t often he had to miss a meal.

“Harry, have you finished the History of Magic essay that’s due Monday?” Hermione asked, a bit pompously, in Draco’s opinion. He knew it was petty and snide, but he couldn’t seem to help himself when she had her hand firmly in Harry’s grasp right in front of him. Hadn’t she just said the night before that Harry usually figured it out in the end?

Harry didn’t bother answering, he just hung his head and pushed the food around on his plate.

“Harry! I know today is rough, but you need to do your homework! After lunch, I expect you to finish that paper before the feast,” Hermione said sternly.

“I finished mine, Harry, I’ll help you,” Draco interjected, not wanting Hermione to continue to berate Harry when the bloke was just trying to eat his lunch, for Salazar’s sake. Did she have no respect for how much pain the prat was feeling?

“Thanks, Draco,” Harry mumbled.

Blaise winked at him, mouthing the words good job. Draco slid a Stinging Hex his way under the table, the git needed to be more careful. Harry might not be looking but Hermione was dead clever. Draco smirked when his hex found it’s mark and Blaise twitched next to him, barely stifling a yelp.

“Are you alright, Blaise?” Luna asked sweetly.

“Of course, just thought I felt something.” Blaise said and Draco almost groaned. You didn’t say something like that to Luna Lovegood without her talking about a creature that definitely did not exist.

“Oh yes, that makes sense. The nargle season is almost upon us, after all. It must be an early arrival.” Luna said dreamily and Draco wanted to pound his face into the table. How did Pansy fancy this odd bird?

“She’s just so Luna, Draco,” Pansy had said weeks ago when Draco had asked her. “She’s so completely herself and she makes no apologies to anyone. She doesn’t give a fuck if anyone is laughing at her. She has a level of confidence and self-assurance that I can’t help but admire.”

“Yeah, probably that,” Draco deadpanned, hoping no one would notice. Pansy elbowed him sharply as Harry almost choked on his juice. Luna, however, smiled brightly at him.

“I know you don’t believe in nargles, Draco, so thanks for being kind,” Luna said completely sincerely, which had the unfortunate effect of immediately marinating Draco in guilt.

Merlin, he was such a prat. Even when he was trying to be good, he still managed to fuck it up. He spent the rest of the meal with his eyes trained downward, attempting to contain the shaking of his hands.

After lunch, Draco settled back into his spot on the emerald loveseat he had conjured earlier. It was the only seat in the eighth year common room that wasn’t brown or purple. He had done it partly as a nod to Slytherin and partly because of Harry’s jumper. He had loved the color against Harry’s skin and desperately wanted to see it every day.

Draco pulled out his books, determined to make headway on a particularly difficult essay McGonagall had set them. She had hired a new Transfiguration professor but taught one class, the eighth years, citing a nostalgia that had her choked up on the first day of class. He knew she graded him more harshly than others, and so put forth the most effort in her class.

Harry stood next to him, ready to sit as he pulled the same quill from earlier out of his pocket. The ink had leaked and stained his denims. Harry frowned at the spot.

“Bollocks,” Harry said.

“It’s fine,” Draco murmured, casting the specific cleansing charm designed for ink stains in fabric.

“How did you do that?” Harry asked, as he twisted his leg to see his trousers better. Draco looked away as Harry’s fine arse was presented to his face.

“It’s an easy charm,” Draco said instead, eyes trained to the paper he had in front of him. What had he been writing about again? Oh yeah, Transfiguration. “Have you brought your essay?”

“Er, about that, I haven’t exactly started it,” Harry murmured.

“Salazar’s sack, Harry! Do you intend on banking on your name all term?” Draco exclaimed.

“No, it’s just that I’ve been distracted!” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. That’s right, today was be Nice to Harry Bloody Potter Day. Why was that so difficult? Why was his first instinct to needle and taunt the tousled hero? He heaved a sigh.

“Alright Harry, have you read chapter four yet?” At the shame-faced shake of Harry’s head, he merely continued. “Then the good news is you just saved yourself a ton of wasted time. Just read the introduction and then the sixth section. That’ll tell you everything you need to know about the Centaur Genocide of 1241.”

“Wow, Draco, thanks!” Harry flashed a brilliant smile and Draco felt his heart stutter.

“It’s nothing, Harry,” Draco said, his eyes still on Harry’s mouth. Regretfully, he dragged his gaze up and locked eyes with the Golden Boy.

“Seriously, Draco, thank you,” that gentle, impossibly soft voice was back. “Today meant a lot.”

Harry reached out and placed a hand directly on Draco’s Dark Mark. Draco flinched and tore his arm away.

“As I said, Potter, it was nothing.” Draco snapped, rubbing his thigh in agitation. He never touched that spot, not even in the shower.

“Draco, what,” Harry started-

“Leave it, Potter.” It might be Nice to Harry Sodding Potter Day but even Draco had his limits. He spent the rest of the afternoon in silence, not even laughing when Luna started flipping Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans for Pansy to catch in her mouth.

Eventually Draco got up to visit the loo, leaving his essay on the table. After taking a quick piss and washing his hands, he left the bathroom, his eyes on the floor. Distracted as he was, it was unsurprising that he didn’t notice Harry Fucking Potter standing just outside the door and ran flat into him.

Draco didn’t even look up, he merely tried to swerve around the bastard. He found his way blocked. Frowning at his trainers, he tried to go the other way. Harry mirrored him.

“Potter, just stay still and I’ll go around.”

“Oh, he does talk.” Potter snapped. Draco glanced up; Potter looked annoyed. How anyone could look that fierce with a tiny snake’s head popping up from the black unruly mop was beyond him.

“Yes, he does,” Draco quipped. “Now stand still and leave me alone,” he went to move again, and now, with his head up, he saw what Potter was doing. He was blocking Draco on bloody purpose! “Are you fucking kidding me, Potter?!”

“No, I’m not, I’m not letting you go until you tell me what the bloody fuck has your knickers in a twist.”

Draco knew that tone, he had heard it a million times. Potter wasn’t going to let this go. Abruptly the fight went out of him, he just didn’t have the will to fight with the prat after the emotionally charged day he’d had. Honestly, he didn’t know where Potter found the energy, with the anger and sorrow eating snake sat upon his bloody head.

“You won’t like the answer,” Draco said warningly.

“I don’t care.”

“Fine! C’mon,” he turned to his room and opened the door, stomping over the threshold. This was absolutely not a conversation he wanted overheard.

“Er, Draco, this is your room,” Potter stammered from the open doorway.

“I’m bloody well aware, Potter. I’m not having this conversation where just anyone could walk up.” Draco tapped his foot impatiently.

Potter slipped inside, eyes taking in the tidy room. Draco used his wand to shut the door, and Potter flinched. Draco began casting his strongest ward and silencing spells, the ones he had cast every night since Potter had woken him up from his nightmare.

The silence stretched out, crystalline thin between them until it was shattered-

“What is your problem? I try thanking you and you’ve been a bloody prat ever since!” Potter burst out.

“How have I been a prat, Potter? I haven’t said two words to you,” Draco ground out.

“Exactly! You haven’t said two words, and you’re calling me Potter again!” Potter said his voice rising.

“Oh. I didn’t notice,” Draco said stunned.

“You didn’t notice,” Pot-Harry said flatly.

“Look, Harry, I’m sorry. Can you please just drop it?” Draco pleaded softly, dreading Harry’s inevitable answer.

“No, I really can’t. Why did me thanking you upset you so much?” Harry asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“It wasn’t that you thanked me,” Draco said tentatively.

“Then what was it, Kai says you’ve been upset since then.” Harry said and Draco spared a moment to be annoyed that Harry Bloody Potter had a pet that could read his emotions.

“You touched my Mark.” Draco bit out, closing his eyes firmly.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“Er, can I see it?” Harry asked in that same tender voice and fuck if Draco wasn’t helpless to respond. He darted one glance at Harry’s face and then held his arm out, not bothering to reply.

Harry took his hand and then used his other to slide a finger under Draco’s sleeve.

“Is this okay?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Draco whispered. Harry slowly pushed his jumper up, exposing more and more of his pale skin. The black ink had faded when the Dark Lord was defeated, but the angry purple scar of the skull and snake was now marring his once perfect skin. Draco could still feel the Dark magic of it coursing through his veins, though that had lessened since the battle. He no longer hoped it would fade, along with the nerve pain, he knew his damage was as permanent as that of any other survivor.

“Can I touch it?” Harry whispered, breaking through Draco’s morose thoughts.

“I’d rather you didn’t, but you can if you want to.” He closed his eyes in preparation. Surprisingly, the touch never came. He opened his eyes in confusion. He looked down and Harry was still holding his hand and staring at the Mark, but Harry’s other hand, instead of reaching out, was hanging limply at Harry’s side.

“Harry, I said you could touch it if you want,” Draco said, bewildered.

“You said you didn’t want me to.”

“Well, no, of course I don’t. But I can handle it,” Draco said.

“You don’t have to, just because I want to,” Harry said in his too-soft voice.

Something in Draco broke at those words. No one had ever told him he didn’t have to do what someone else wanted. If it wasn’t his father signing him up for the Death Eaters, it was his mother pressuring him into a marriage. It was even the Dark Lord, making demands that Draco had zero desire to fulfill. It was his mad aunt showing him how to torture even though that was the last thing he wanted. It was even so far back it was the house elves showing him how to sit and how to act every moment of every day.

Draco felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and blinked furiously. “Please, Harry,” was all he could force out. Instead of leaving, as Draco desperately wanted, Harry tugged him forward into a tight hug.

Draco felt his shoulders shaking as he cried into Harry’s neck, not even embarrassed as a deep, aching emptiness overtook him. Harry stroked his back, his nape, and Draco melted into that touch.

“No one’s ever- ever said,” Draco choked out, “said I didn’t- didn’t have to.”

“Shh, Draco,” Harry soothed. “You don’t have to explain.” And fuck if that didn’t just make him cry harder.

He felt hot tears splashing onto his collarbone and realized Harry was crying too. Draco rubbed Harry’s back as he valiantly tried to control his tears. He finally got himself under control and could tell the moment Harry did too.

He stiffened, realizing he was in Harry Potter’s arms in his bedroom, just next to the bed he desperately wanted to shove Harry onto. He pulled away, before his mind could conjure up any inappropriate thoughts that might lead to embarrassing, noticeable results.

“Thanks, Harry,” Draco whispered, scrubbing his face.

“It’s fine,” Harry whispered back, still standing close. Draco could have counted each wet eyelash if he had wanted. Draco stared down at Harry’s mouth, idly wondering if crying gave the Savior bad breath too. He saw Harry’s gaze, even to his own lips, a hungry look in those emerald eyes. Draco tilted his head slightly, angling down-

“We’d better get back. Hermione and Pansy are probably going spare.” Harry stepped back, breaking the moment.

“Pansy?” Draco repeated, confused. Why would Pansy give a fuck where he was? Harry’s face shuttered, former open expression gone.

“Yes, Draco, Pansy.” Harry bit out, backing further away.

Oh. Oh.

Potter didn’t know he was gay! Here he was, throwing himself at the Savior who was too much of a gentleman to take what he was clearly offering, all because he thought Draco was engaged to someone else. It was so bloody Gryffindor, so typical Harry Fucking Potter that Draco couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized earlier. He almost laughed aloud at his own stupidity.

“You go ahead, Harry, I just need a moment alone before I go back out there.” Draco said, his mind already whirring with possibilities. He desperately needed to talk to the other Slytherins but how to get them alone? He didn’t see how that would be possible until the feast.

That was fine, serpents were know for their patience. He would lie in wait, knowing the perfect moment to strike would come eventually. Harry wasn’t getting away so easily.

Chapter Text

Harry retreated from Draco’s room, panicking slightly. What the bloody hell had just happened? He had considered, for just a moment, plucking up his courage and closing the small distance between his own lips and those of the object of his affection, Draco Malfoy. Then he had remembered Draco was straight and engaged and completely unavailable.

“Hermione, can we talk?” Harry said urgently, coming to their spot in the Common Room.

“Yeah, Harry, of course, we can go to my room. We’ll be back,” she directed the second part of her response to Blaise, smiling softly. What was that all about?

Harry quickly lost all semblance of patience and grabbed Hermione’s hand, tugging her from the room.

Hermione’s room was near the middle, between Parvati Patil’s and Pansy’s. Harry flung the door open and collapsed face-first onto her bed. It smelled of the coconut hair product she used, the familiar scent soothing him.

“Ialmostsnoggeddraco,” Harry groaned into her pillow.

“Come again?” Hermione said from the vicinity of her book-laden desk.

“I almost snogged Draco,” Harry said, lifting his head slightly. He dropped it back down.

“What? What happened after you tracked him down?”

“We talked.” Here Harry wavered, the things they had talked about were obviously important to Draco and Harry didn’t want to break whatever fragile trust Draco had in him. “We might have both started crying, so I hugged him. It was after the hug. He just looked so open and he did so much for me today and I just want him so much.”

“If you wanted to snog him, why didn’t you?”

“I can’t ‘Mione,” Harry mumbled, feeling Kai slither up into his hair.

“Why not? He let you hug him.”

“He’s marrying Pansy, or did you forget?” Harry groaned, looking up at her.

She looked shocked for a moment. “Actually, I did forget. They aren’t very physically affectionate. I don’t even think I’ve seen them sit next to each other aside from mealtimes.” She bit her lip, head tilting as she considered the problem.

“I walked in on him kissing her hand a while back.” Harry supplied miserably. “Maybe it’s a pureblood thing to keep things quiet?”

“Maybe,” Hermione said, still looking thoughtful.

“What am I gonna do? I can’t seem to keep myself from seeking him out or hanging out with him. We’re partners in almost every class so it’s not like I could even if I wanted to. And then today he did something so bloody thoughtful. Fuck, ‘Mione, I introduced him to my parents!”

“You did?” Hermione sounded curious. “How did that go?”

“He was really nice about it.” Harry said miserably as Kai hissed cheerfully from his hair.

“That’s a bad thing?”

“It makes it sodding difficult to keep from snogging him after you’ve been crying in his arms.”

“Sorry, Harry.”

“Yeah, me too.” Harry dropped his head, smothering himself back into her pillow. Hermione respected his mood for a few minutes before she broke in-

“Alright, that’s enough sulking. There are worse things than not being able to snog your crush.”

“I know that,” Harry said, wounded. “It’s just not very fun.”

“C’mon, up you get. Let’s go back to the Common Room, it’s almost time for the feast.”

Harry groaned again and dragged his feet as they made their way back to their usual table. Draco was sat with Pansy, whispering furiously, as Blaise and Luna played with Nomi. Harry felt a flush rise and sat with Hermione in the vacant green sofa.

“Mmmm, delicious,” came Kai’s hiss from his unruly mop. “Thank you for your mortification, Dinner.”

“What did you call me?” Harry spluttered, choking on a laugh. Every eye turned to him.

“Dinner, that is what you are to me.” Kai hissed happily.

“My name is Harry,” Harry laughed.

“What use has a snake for names?” If a snake could shrug, that’s what was happening, Harry thought.

“What’s she saying, Harry?” Hermione asked, wanting to share the joke.

“She’s calling me Dinner, saying snakes don’t use names.”

“What does she call herself then?” Blaise asked.

“What do you call yourself, if you have no name?”

“I am many things; vicious, shrewd, young, beautiful, venomous, and powerful. I discover more of myself each day. Why limit myself to just one word?” Kai asked reasonably.

Harry laughed weakly, how to explain that to Blaise?

“What did she say?” Hermione asked.

“She says she can’t limit herself to one word and then listed a bunch of self-important words, saying that’s who she was.”

“That’s rather clever, actually,” Hermione said softly.

“Well, Dinner, it’s time for ours, let’s head to the Great Hall,” Draco said from where he was still sitting next to Pansy.

Harry chuckled helplessly, through his heartache. Attention from Draco was better than nothing and he couldn’t help but be amused by the prat.

The six of them went down to the Great Hall, laughing and calling Harry meal names. Breakfast was firmly stuck by the time the group sat for the scrumptious feast.

Harry felt Kai helping him let go of the pain of day, relaxing in the warm candlelight glowing from within the Jack-O-Lanterns. The feast was spectacular, as always. The house elves had outdone themselves. The spread was executed with a level of perfection and attention to detail that was almost palpable.

Harry took a bit of everything and piled his plate high. He dug in enthusiastically, avoiding looking at Draco, who was once again sat next to his fiancée. They weren’t touching or even giving each other sideways glances, but Harry could feel the level of understanding between them. It was the level he had with Hermione, knowing what she meant without her having to say a word. Like how she was spending more and more time with Blaise Zabini and that soft look in her eye when she did so.

He turned that over in his head as he chewed thoughtfully. It was obvious to even Harry that something was brewing between the two. Harry might be a bit unobservant at times, but he knew his best mate like he knew his own mind.

Just as Harry had really settled into the feast, a flock of owls entered the Hall. Like everyone else, he was surprised by the sudden intrusion and watched the flapping wings avidly. Owls landed all over the hall, one settling in front of Blaise. Harry watched curiously as Blaise tugged a packet from the owl’s out-stretched leg.

“It’s an evening edition of the Prophet,” Blaise said distractedly. “Oh, fuck, Harry, you’re going to want to see this.”

“What is it?” Harry asked as he was handed the paper. He looked down at the headline.

THE CHOSEN ONE: GAY?

A source close to the Savior confirms that our heartthrob Savior is gay. Exclusive story within!

Harry sat for a moment in shock. Then he raised his head, grinning. “Draco, you told them!”

“What?” Draco asked bemusedly. Harry tossed the paper to him, smiling to himself. Finally, everyone knew, he didn’t have to hide anymore. True, it could have been on a more tasteful day, but at least it was over.

Harry was still smirking, shoveling food into his mouth when Hermione elbowed him. He looked up, a mouthful of food bursting from his cheeks. Draco was staring at him with an indecipherable expression on his face; Harry swallowed hastily.

“You think I told the papers you’re gay?” Draco said deathly quiet. Harry had the first inkling that maybe he had misjudged the situation and desperately tried to save it.

“Well, yeah? I told you it was okay if you did.” Harry said, confused.

“You know what? Fuck you, Potter.” Draco retorted. He slammed his fork down and crossed his arms, staring at his half-eaten Sheppard’s pie.

“What?” Harry asked in trepidation, unsure of what exactly was happening.

“Do you want me to hex him for you, Draco?” Luna said, of all people. Pansy smiled at her and Draco merely shook his head, eyes still cast down.

Harry didn’t enjoy the rest of the meal nearly as much as he had thought he would. He didn’t want Hermione to harp on him though, so he pushed his food around on his plate, hoping she wouldn’t notice his lack of appetite.

Harry suddenly made a connection. If Draco hadn’t told the papers he was gay, that meant someone else had. Obviously that someone wasn’t Hermione. Which left one person. Ginny.

Harry started swearing in his head. He growled as he stood up. Hermione glanced at him and then smiled.

“Will you take Kai?” Harry asked quickly, needing to be fully present when he confronted his ex-girlfriend. Hermione held out her hand and he dropped his snub-nosed snake into her palm.

He stalked down the Hall, reaching the Gryffindor table quickly. His ginger ex was sat between two other Quidditch players, and it looked to him like she was flirting outrageously. The eighth years hadn’t been able to play on house teams and now Harry was grateful.

“Ginny.” Harry said sharply.

“Oh, hiya Harry,” Ginny said, feigning a level of ease her steady flush belied.

“Can we talk?” Harry bit out.

“Anything you have to say to me, you can say here.” Ginny said, trying to outface him.

“Fine. What the bloody fuck is wrong with you? I tell you I’m gay and you don’t even wait twenty-four hours to run to the papers? Do you even know what today is?” Harry demanded.

“I didn’t tell the papers!” Ginny whispered, eyes darting to the side. It looked like she regretted trying to call Harry’s bluff.

“Today is the anniversary of my parent’s murder. I spent the morning at their graveside, with someone who actually tried to make today easier for me.” Ginny flinched, her blush now staining her cheeks a deep crimson. Harry couldn’t bring himself to care. “Stay the fuck away from me. I don’t want to talk to you; I don’t want to even see you.”

Harry strode away, the entire Hall breaking out in whispers. He hadn’t exactly been quiet. He couldn’t find it in himself to care as he dropped himself back into his seat. He took Kai back, relaxing slightly as she wound her way through his locks.

“Draco, I’m sorry I assumed you went to the papers,” Harry said, plucking up his nerve. “I should have known you wouldn’t do that.”

Draco merely looked at him for a few minutes. Harry could tell the moment he was forgiven as Draco’s posture relaxed fractionally.

Harry yelped as a Stinging Hex hit his left knee.

“What the hell?” Harry squawked.

Hermione smirked at him. Blaise clearly raised his wand above the table, settling it back into his arm holster.

“You deserved that,” Blaise said.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry muttered as he rubbed his knee surreptitiously. The dessert course appeared, and he took a huge slice of his favorite, digging into the treacle tart enthusiastically. Bugger if it didn’t now remind him of Draco. He blamed Hermione entirely for putting that thought in his mind.

At the end of the feast, Headmistress McGonagall rose to give a short speech about the importance of interhouse unity. Harry hardly registered it, sitting as he was with former Slytherins and a Ravenclaw. He was fairly certain that if anything could be considered the top at moving on and healing from the prejudices of the war, his friendship with Draco would be the shining example.

“Come on Breakfast, let’s go get a drink.” Draco now said, earning Harry’s grateful smile. God, he could really, really use a drink after the day he had had. When had Draco learned to read him so well?

The six of them crossed through the halls, ribbing Harry constantly. Harry pretended an offence he didn’t feel. Honestly, it just felt nice to laugh.

“Cooperation,” Blaise said as they approached the portrait. Saudade merely slid aside, solemnly watching them enter the Common Room one by one. Harry had never met a less chatty portrait in Hogwarts. Inside, the Common Room was festively decorated. Jack-O-Lanterns floated about their heads and orange and black streamers coated the walls.

“Blimey Hermione, how did you manage this?” Harry thought back, she had been next to him the entire feast.

“I had help,” Hermione said evasively, as they made their way to their corner of the Common Room. Harry sat on the green couch, hoping that maybe he’d be lucky enough to get to sit next to Draco again, who was getting the group drinks with Pansy.

“Who? We were all at the feast and no one else can get in the Common Room,” Blaise reasoned.

“I may have asked Headmistress McGonagall if we could have a party, after class on Thursday.” Hermione said laughingly.

“How on earth did you get her to agree to a bunch of teenagers getting drunk in her castle?” Draco exclaimed, as he and Pansy made their way back, six glasses and a bottle of firewhiskey floating behind him.

“I may have neglected to mention the drinking part. But no one would have come if there wasn’t alcohol!” Hermione defended her actions.

Pansy plopped herself next to Luna, who gave her a big smacking kiss on the cheek for her drink. Draco sat next to Harry, who couldn’t decide if it was a blessing or a curse to sit so close to a Draco Malfoy who was engaged to someone else in the same room.

“Thanks, Draco,” Harry said, his heart beating a manic tattoo against his ribs.

“No problem, Breakfast,” Draco smirked. It was such a different smirk than before the war. Before, Draco’s smirks were sharp and cruel. Now they were funny and annoyingly distracting.

“Is that ever going to get old?” Harry asked, a bit desperately.

“No, probably not,” Pansy said from the floor as Luna began plaiting her hair. “Draco is like a crup with a bone when he finds a joke funny.”

“Isn’t that a sign of a lack of imagination?” Hermione cut in, and Harry could have kissed her.

“Or a sign of my tenacity,” Draco rebutted.

“Touché.” Hermione said.

“Tu parles Francais?” Draco said, surprised.

“What?” Hermione asked.

“You just said ‘touch’ in French, so I asked if you speak French.” Draco said bemusedly.

“Oh! No, I don’t speak French Draco, it’s an expression.” Hermione said. “There’s a French muggle sport called fencing. Two opponents fight with a couple of very bendy thin swords and you get a point by ‘touching’ your opponent. It’s called ‘touché’. I was basically just saying you had a fair point.” Hermione really could sound like an encyclopedia when she got into a subject but the Slytherins were listening attentively.

“If the swords are bendy, how do you stab your opponent?” Blaise asked.

“You don’t. There’s no bloodshed in fencing,” Hermione smiled.

“That sounds boring,” Draco said.

“It isn’t, it’s about strategy and skill, not about hurting your opponent.” Harry felt Draco flinch at her words.

“’Mione, it’s dead boring. I break a sweat faster falling asleep than those guys swinging their skinny little sticks at each other.” Harry interjected, causing Draco to stutter a laugh.

God he could listen to that laugh every day and it wouldn’t be enough.

He was so fucked.

“Let’s play some drinking games!” Seamus called from the middle of the room. Hermione complained under her breath that drinking games were childish, until Harry reminded her the party was supposed to be about breaking down barriers and getting to know one another.

Chairs and sofas were levitated to the outskirts of the room and pillows and cushions were placed in a large circle. Harry found himself in the midst of the Slytherins, with Draco on one side and Blaise on the other. Luna sat on the other side of Draco, with Pansy next to her. Hermione sat next to Blaise.

“Alright, does anyone need a fresh drink?” Seamus asked. “The game is truth or dare.”

Harry groaned internally, he had secrets he really couldn’t afford people, i.e. the handsome bloke to his left, find out.

“Ground rules! If you lie on your truth, or chicken out on your dare, you turn bright orange for ten minutes. Any secrets that come out are sacred and not to be discussed outside of this group.”

“I can cast a hex to insure that,” Hermione offered.

“You can?” Dean asked curiously from next to Seamus.

“Of course,” Hermione said simply.

“Everyone alright with that?” Seamus asked the group at large. At everyone’s nod he looked back at Hermione. “Okay Hermione, do your worst.”

When Hermione made no move to wave her wand, Seamus and Dean exchanged a look.

“Er, Hermione, aren’t you going to hex the game?”

“Oh, I did that before I sat down. I just wanted to be sure everyone knew before they played.” Hermione said brightly.

“You did what?” Neville asked.

“I jinxed the game. You think I’m going to let someone run to the papers with my best mate's secrets again?” Harry felt every eye on him and valiantly tried not to blush. Kai hissed greedily from his pocket. Still, it was a nice thought on Hermione’s part.

“So, what’ll happen if someone does try to talk about the game outside of the eighth years?”

“Your tongue will fall out,” Hermione said cheerfully.

“My tongue will WHAT?!” one of the Patil twins exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t permanent. Madam Pomfrey can set you right,” Hermione reassured her. Harry heard her mutter eventually under her breath and chuckled.

“You’re a frightening witch, Hermione, do you know that?” Blaise said to her.

“One tries one’s best,” she smirked.

“Okay, everyone ready? Clear about the rules?” Seamus asked the group. Everyone nodded and Seamus rubbed his hands together.

“Harry, truth or dare?” Of course, Harry was first. Taking one look at the evil look in Seamus’s eye, Harry made a snap decision.

“Truth then,” Harry said tentatively.

“What were you doing with Malfoy this morning?”

“Visiting my parent’s graveside,” Harry answered easily. He hoped it would help clear some of the residual animosity he knew Draco faced. “Draco knew it’s the anniversary of their deaths and surprised me with a trip to visit them this morning.” Everyone went silent at that.

“You did that?” Neville asked Draco in surprise.

“It wasn’t that hard,” Draco said with a faint blush staining his cheeks. “I asked McGonagall and she had the Minister make a Portkey.”

“Why did she have to involve the Minister?” Seamus asked.

“The school has incredibly powerful wards, and crossing that much distance is never easy even via magical travel. Only the office of the Minister would be able to create a Portkey that advanced.” Hermione answered promptly. At everyone’s incredulous stare, she shrugged, “I was curious after they got dumped in the middle of the Common Room this morning. It was a good problem to think on while I was doing my homework.”

“Wait, you figured out how Harry and I crossed a country and broke through the school wards, all while you were writing essays?” Draco asked disbelievingly.

“I can multitask,” Hermione said with a sniff.

“Great Salazar, no wonder I could never beat you in any class except Potions,” Draco said with a shake of his head.

“Can we get back to the game?” Pansy asked, leaning against Luna.

“Er, sure,” Harry thought for a moment. “Hermione, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Hermione said easily.

“Make it good, Harry,” Draco whispered.

“I dare you to snog the bloke you fancy.”

Hermione laughed at that, leaned over, and placed a quick peck on Blaise’s cheek.

“I knew it!” Harry said loudly.

“Pathetic,” Draco said. “That can’t count as a snog!”

“Harry didn’t say where or for how long. Counts to me,” Hermione laughed. “Padma, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Padma said, and now Harry knew she was the one wearing blue.

“What’s something I don’t know about you?” Hermione asked, clearly offering the former Ravenclaw the option to say something silly like her favorite color.

“I have a scar the size of my palm on my back from the Battle.”

“Okay, new rule!” Seamus broke in. “Every time someone brings up something depressing or about the war, everybody has to take a drink! So, everyone drinks!”

Harry laughed and took a tiny sip of his firewhiskey. He coughed and wasn’t the only one. Draco rubbed him on the back, almost like he had earlier, and Harry felt himself leaning into that touch.

“Parvati, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Parvati said, not even looking up. Seeing the crafty look in her eye, Harry thought that wasn’t the smartest plan.

“Dare you to snog Terry, with tongue, for five seconds.” Padma said, elbowing Terry Boot next to her who had the grace to blush.

“Okay,” Parvati said and crawled across the circle. She grabbed Terry’s face and snogged him thoroughly. “Easy-peasy,” she said as she broke away.

“Just like that?” Pansy asked.

“Gryffindor,” was all Parvati said in response. “Besides, Padma knows more of my secrets than anyone else. I might not be a Ravenclaw, but no way am I stupid enough to let her ask me a truth in front of you lot. Alright then Dean, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Dean said.

“How did you and Seamus get together?” Harry felt his gaze shift from watching at Draco in his peripheral, to locking onto the two blokes in front of him. Now Harry could see what Parvati meant. They were seated so close their thighs were touching and Seamus had his arm behind Dean.

Well, fuck.

Here were two blokes he could have flirted with, instead of focusing his attention on the entirely inappropriate choice of his straight, engaged, former archenemy.

Harry had missed his chance, obviously, watching at the fond look Dean gave Seamus.

“In the beginning of last year, I was shagging Ginny and she wanted to have a threesome with another guy. I’d never really considered it before, but there was a war on, and I couldn’t really come up with a reason not to. Something was always missing, in the bedroom, with Ginny. I knew Seamus liked blokes, he had mentioned it a time or two in the dorms after drinking. So, I went and asked him.”

“Dean was completely oblivious to the fact that I’d been hitting on him for ages, so when he asked me, I took my chance. I didn’t think I’d get another, you know, what if one of us died?” Everyone drank. “Sorry! I figured I’d just stay as far away from a naked Ginny as possible.”

“It was so awkward at first, we were all sitting on this big bed in the Room of Requirement, totally silent. Then Ginny said she wanted to watch us snog.” Dean took the story back up and Harry was hanging on his every word. “I gathered up all my courage and lunged forward.”

“Just as I dove forward too,” Seamus said laughing. “Almost fell off of the bed when he head-butted me. But it broke the ice and we both laughed. I decided if I was going to snog the bloke I'd had my eye on for three years, I was going to do a proper job of it. I grabbed his neck and kissed the breath out of him.”

“Something about it just clicked in a way it never had with Ginny. I couldn’t get enough. I forgot how to think, how to breathe. I completely forgot about Ginny. She left at some point, but I couldn’t tell you when.” Dean leaned back into Seamus’s arm, resting his head against Seamus’s shoulder.

“It was before we got naked, I know that much,” Seamus said with a smirk.

“Harry, truth or dare?” Dean asked.

“Truth,” Harry said again, still too sober to pick dare.

“Is it true what the papers said?”

“You’ll have to be a bit more specific; the papers say a lot of things.” Harry said cheekily.

“Are you gay?” Dean asked, a bit hesitantly.

“As the day is long.” Harry said to the disappointed muttering of what seemed half the girls in the circle.

“Well, Seamus and I talked about it at the feast, and if you ever want to have some fun, let us know. No strings attached.” Dean said, and Harry thought he heard Draco growl. Which was impossible, Draco had no reason to growl at Harry getting propositioned by other blokes. Maybe Kai was making a noise he hadn’t heard from her yet. His book on snakes hadn’t said anything about them being able to growl but it was a more reasonable explanation than Draco making that sound.

“Thanks, but I’m going to have to pass. I’m not really looking for anything casual right now,” Harry said instead.

“So, you’re looking for something serious then?” Dean asked quickly.

“I don’t have to answer that, I already answered one!” Harry said, not wanting to turn orange, but also really not wanting to talk about how desperately he did want something serious with Draco still absently rubbing a thumb along Harry’s lower back. Harry was sure Draco didn’t even realize he was doing it but was enjoying it immensely.

“Luna, truth or dare?” Harry asked, to deflect the conversation.

“Me? Oh, truth please.” Luna said in her dreamy way.

“Has anyone bullied you since you moved in here?”

“Lisa called me Loony the other day, but I think that was an accident.” Luna said softly. Pansy didn’t even hesitate, she pulled out her wand and flung a Stinging Hex at Lisa Turpin, who yelped.

“Nice one Pans,” Draco smirked.

Pansy put a protective arm around Luna’s shoulders, who leaned into her, smiling happily.

“Draco, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Can I see your Mark?” The entire room went deathly still.

“Come on then,” Draco said, rising to his feet.

“Where are you off to?” Seamus asked quickly.

“She wants to see the Mark. I’m not showing the bloody lot of you, so I’m taking her to my room.” Luna followed Draco out of the Common Room. Silence coated the room, dripping down the very walls, as everyone was lost in memories of the war.

Soon Luna led Draco back into the room, and once again Draco sat next to Harry. Harry took one look at the expression on Draco’s face and immediately felt his heart ache in response to the misery in Draco’s eyes.

“I think that means we all drink,” Neville finally broke the silence. Harry took a swig of his firewhiskey and casually rearranged his seat to that his knee brushed Draco’s thigh. He laid his hand behind the barrier his thigh had created, subtly letting Draco know he could take his hand if he wanted. He was rewarded not a moment later when Draco squeezed his fingers gratefully.

“Seamus, truth or dare?” Draco asked.

“Dare,” Seamus said after a moment, still cuddling Dean.

“Go on then, give us a show,” Draco said, nodding at them both. Seamus laughed and tugged Dean into a thorough snog. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away until-

“Must be nice, to be out.” Harry swung his head around and Draco was watching the two men kiss with a wistful expression on his face. What?

“Er, Draco, are you gay too?” Harry whispered.

“Yeah, I am Harry, I told you that yesterday.” Draco muttered, looking back at Harry in confusion.

“No, you didn’t.” Harry said, desperately thinking of every conversation they had had the day before.

“I did. When you told me you were gay, I told you it wasn’t acceptable for me to be out, I’m the last of my line in a very traditional family.” Draco whispered, with a glance around to see if anyone was paying any attention to them.

“Then why are you marrying Pansy?” Harry asked swiftly as Seamus dared Terry Boot to kiss the prettiest girl in the room. Terry made a beeline for Parvati as the group cheered.

“Harry, you really are oblivious, aren’t you?”

“Oi!” A few people glanced their way and Harry, dropped his voice, “I am not.”

“Yes, you really are. Pansy’s bent too,” Draco said with a fond glance at the girl currently draped all over Luna. In the background Harry heard Ernie dare Hannah to flash the room. He didn’t bother looking, he was completely unable to tear his gaze away from Draco’s sliver one.

“Oh.” Oh.

Suddenly it all made sense. Pansy and Luna had been inseparable almost nonstop since the start of term. And Draco… Draco had been so open and kind and now Harry realized his flirting had been reciprocated all these weeks. “Oh my god, I am oblivious.” Harry groaned, dropping his head into his palm.

“Like a baby bird,” Draco said quietly, drawing Harry’s gaze back up. Draco’s eyes, so grey and fond, were fixed on Harry’s. Harry felt the magnetic pull that was Draco’s mouth exert its force and almost swayed forward in response.

“Not here, Harry,” Draco whispered softly, his eyes darting sideways. Harry jolted, remembering where they were. He squeezed Draco’s hand instead, mind ticking everything over. He wanted to kiss Draco, and Draco might possibly want to snog him too.

“Bloody hell,” Harry said in response, just as he heard someone call his name.

“What?” Harry said to the room at large.

“Truth or dare?” Pansy said, with a wicked gleam in her eye. Suddenly Harry couldn’t care less what he was dared.

“Dare.” Harry said easily.

“Alright. I dare you to sleep in the bed of whatever bloke you fancy most.” Pansy said with a wicked smile.

“Done.” Harry said, getting up and brushing his knees.

“Eager, are we?” Pansy cackled. “Not now, Harry, when we all go to bed, the party isn’t over yet.”

Harry blushed deeply, “Oh, er, okay then.” He stammered as he sat back down. Draco smirked and took his hand again as Harry settled.

“That had better have been my bed you were headed to,” Draco whispered. Harry felt a deep shiver of anticipation wash over him. Draco did want him back.

“Right, Lisa, truth or dare?” Harry asked as Kai slithered up his neck to perch on his head.

“Dare,” Lisa Turpin said. Harry thought for a moment.

“I dare you to snog the most attractive person in the room,” Harry said laughing. He stopped laughing abruptly when Lisa crawled across the circle and stopped in front of none other than Draco. Lisa leaned forward and Harry felt a growl grow in the back of his throat. Lisa kissed Draco, softly and quickly, Harry was pleased to note. Draco’s fingers grasped his, tightening as though to let Harry know he wasn’t forgotten. Harry considered sending a jinx her way but realized he would have done the same with that dare.

“Truth or dare, Neville.” Lisa said.

“Dare,” Neville said.

“Give Hannah a lap dance then.” Lisa said, smirking. Neville blushed and looked across to Hannah, who was also flushed.

“Pass,” Neville said, immediately turning bright orange. Harry noticed Hannah seemed a little disappointed.

Harry laughed along with everyone else, now cheerful in the knowledge that his own object of affection was at least willing to hold his hand. He rubbed his thumb along Draco’s knuckles, feeling sparks where they physically connected. His fingers and knee were burning with the sensation.

“Blaise, truth or dare?” Neville asked.

“Dare.” Blaise said without hesitation.

“I dare you to go down on Hermione.” Neville said, a mischievous look on his orange face.

Blaise merely blinked. He stood, holding a hand out to Hermione. She blushed prettily and took it, letting him hoist her up. Quietly they left the room, wolf-whistles following them.

“So, who’s turn is it now?” Seamus asked.

Harry laughed, along with everyone else. “Does it matter?” Harry asked.

“Still eager for the end of the game?” Draco murmured in his ear. Harry felt himself go violently red.

“No, that’s not what I meant!” Harry whispered furiously.

“I’m just messing with you Harry,” Draco said, with a squeeze to Harry’s hand.

“Let’s play Never Have I Ever!” Padma exclaimed.

“Alright gang, the rules are simple, when it’s your turn you say something you’ve never done. If someone else has done it, they have to drink. If someone says something you’ve done, take a swallow.” Seamus told the dozen students left, as two more couples left the group.

“I’ll start,” Seamus said. “Never have I ever shagged a girl.”

Harry and Draco’s drinks stayed undrunk, as a Terry, Neville, and Dean took a shot.

To Seamus’s left Dean said, “Never have I ever had sex in the quidditch locker rooms.”

Terry and Neville laughed as they both took a drink.

“Never have I ever snogged someone of the same gender,” Lisa Turpin said. Of course, Dean and Seamus drank, as did Pansy and Luna, but Harry was pleased to note Draco's drink stayed as still as his own. His mind turned that over as he felt the weight of every eye on him.

“There was a war on!” Harry exclaimed helplessly. “I didn’t have a whole lot of time for self-reflection when Voldemort was routinely trying to murder me!” Everyone took a swig at that.

“Sorry! Never have I ever blown a bloke.” Harry said quickly, while most of the girls and Dean and Seamus drank.

“Never have I ever wanted to be a Death Eater,” Draco said gently. Nobody drank, until the group realized he had been talking about the war, and everyone tossed back a shot.

“Are you done yet?” Harry asked Draco as Pansy said she had never flashed a room before.

“Yeah, I think I am. You go first, I’ll follow in a few minutes.” Draco whispered.

“You don’t have to rush, I want to shower,” Harry said before he rose on creaky knees.

“Ooh, Harry, off to the bed of your crush?” Seamus asked cheekily.

“Yup, guess you’ll find out if I wind up in yours.” Harry said with a wink.

“I love you Dean, I love you so much, but if Harry Potter is in my room when I go to bed, I get a free pass.” Harry heard Seamus say as he walked away. He smirked to himself as he went to his own room.

He dropped Kai into her tank and gathered his toiletries quickly. He tossed the clothes he was wearing into his hamper and wrapped the same small towel around his waist. He darted the few steps into the bathroom, waiting until he got to the stall before he dropped his towel. He slung it up on the hook provided and turned the taps, waiting for the water to heat properly.

Once it was nice and hot, Harry stepped under the spray. He felt jittery and nervous, knowing he was about to sleep in the bed of Draco Malfoy. He washed with special attention to armpits and groin, wanting to be as fresh and clean as possible. He scrubbed himself thoroughly, trying to take his time. Then he cast a few wandless preparation charms on himself, charms he had perfected ages ago, the emptiness of the last charm resonating inside of him. He didn’t think things would progress so quickly, but one could never be too prepared, as Hermione constantly told him.

Eventually, he switched off the shower, toweling himself dry in the stall. He dressed in his favorite flannel pajama bottoms, pairing them with a soft old shirt of Dudley’s.

He felt the shirt draping off of one shoulder as he left the bathroom. He quickly tossed his toiletries into his own bedroom and then silently crossed the hall. Quietly, he knocked on the door opposite his own.

It swung open with a faint creak, and Harry stepped into Draco’s room nervously.

“Hey, Harry,” Harry heard Draco say from the shadows, as his eyes adjusted.

“Hey, Draco,” Harry whispered back, as the door swung shut behind him.

“I’m going to wash, but you can get comfortable,” Draco said softly.

“Thanks,” Harry said uneasily.

Draco left the room and Harry found himself alone in a room no distractions other than his own anxious thoughts. He sat awkwardly at the desk. What was he supposed to do in this situation? Draco was distractingly naked in a nearby bathroom, and he, Harry, was sitting here nervously fidgeting in a hard desk chair. Harry considered setting himself back in a ‘sexy’ pose on the bed but quickly gave up on the idea. He couldn’t think of himself as sexy by any stretch of the word and would have no clue how to execute it. He decided instead to merely sit, waiting awkwardly for the object of his affection to join him.

Eventually, after Harry had chewed half of his thumbnail off, the door slid back open.

“Sorry,” Draco’s soft whisper came. “Let me just cast a few charms.”

“Alright then,” Harry whispered back, as Draco pointed his wand at the door. Harry recognized a few silencing and locking spells as Draco wound the wards tight.

“That was well done,” Harry said quietly as Draco turned back toward him.

“Was it?” Draco said softly as he inched slowly toward Harry.

“It was,” Harry muttered, and he grabbed Draco’s hand.

“You need to sleep in my bed,” Draco mumbled, his eyes clearly locked onto Harry’s.

“You’re right,” Harry said, as he rose. He impatiently tugged Draco toward the bed. “Let’s go to bed then.”

They both settled into the full-sized mattress.

Harry gazed at Draco’s silver eyes in the moonlit room, as Draco stared back at him. He laid his hand gently on the side of Draco’s jaw, trying to respect Draco’s boundaries. He rubbed Draco’s cheekbone with his thumb.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Draco breathed, barely loud enough for Harry to hear. But Harry did hear, so he tugged Draco’s face forward and set his lips against the ones he had been desperately pining for.

The feeling was electric, and Harry was unable to stop a soft moan from escaping his lips. Helplessly, he clutched Draco’s face as Draco’s hands wound themselves in his hair. Draco gave a soft tug and Harry opened his mouth, daringly pressing his tongue against Draco’s lips. Draco opened his mouth and Harry finally tasted the utter perfection that was Draco’s tongue.

Harry gave another quiet moan and dug his fingers into the nape of Draco’s platinum hair. The taste of Draco was intoxicating, and Harry quickly became drunk on Draco Malfoy. He forgot that they had been on opposite sides of the war, he forgot about Draco’s Mark, he even forgot his own name as he lost himself in the feel of soft lips against his own.

Their kisses became greedy and desperate, and Harry felt himself growing hard in his flannel bottoms. Relentlessly, he tugged on Draco’s neck, urgently needing more. Draco clambered onto Harry’s lap, straddling him, and now Harry could feel how hard Draco was. The knowledge that nothing more than his kiss had turned Draco on as much as it had him had Harry almost shuddering as he dug his fingers into Draco’s hips.

He was sure he was bruising Draco with his grip, but Draco didn’t complain as Harry thrust up against him. He could feel Draco’s erection drag across his own and moaned helplessly.

“Is this okay?” He managed to gasp out, as Draco started kissing his neck. Oh god, that felt good.

“Merlin, yes.” Draco said as he ground down against Harry, and Harry could feel his impending orgasm mounting. He began kissing along Draco’s jaw, greedy to taste every bit of Draco he could reach. He sucked an earlobe into his mouth and gently bit it. His efforts rewarded him with Draco’s first moan, and Harry veritably attacked Draco’s earlobe after that, desperate to hear more.

“Harry,” Draco groaned, and Harry moaned in response, still nibbling Draco’s ear. “I’m close, Merlin, so close.”

Harry felt his stomach coil in anticipation. He thrust harder against Draco, his cock smearing his precome in his pants. He could feel the heavy length of Draco dragging across the head of his prick and he frantically pulled Draco’s hips even closer.

“Fuck, Draco.” Harry gasped in Draco’s ear. Draco started shuddering, and the knowledge that he, Harry, had been the first one to see Draco like this had him breathless. His orgasm slammed through him, as his thrusts went sloppy.

When he came back to himself Draco was still on top of him, face nestled in Harry’s neck. Harry started running his hands up and down Draco’s back, caressing gently. He didn’t know what the rules were when the bloke you liked had just made you come in your pants but figured Draco wouldn’t object after the intimacy they had shared. Finally, Draco flopped aside, looking as boneless as Harry felt.

“C’mere then,” Draco said with a lifted arm.

Harry crawled into that embrace, lifting his head to kiss Draco gently.

“Mmmm, this is nice,” Harry mumbled, laying his head on Draco’s chest.

“G’night Harry,” came from the weary-sounding blond.

“G’night Draco.”

Chapter Text

Draco woke up as the sun rose, wrapped around a warm body. Blearily he struggled to remember what the hell had happened the night before. With a start, he realized who was nestled in his embrace.

Harry Potter.

Harry Sodding Potter was sleeping in his arms, pressed against Draco’s groin. A groin that was beginning to show a decided interest in continuing the previous night’s activities. Harry stirred slightly, wriggling that delicious arse against Draco’s prick. Draco took a moment to wonder at the level of trust Harry had shown by falling asleep in the bed of a former Death Eater. The thought threatened to wilt his burgeoning erection but then Harry pressed back in his sleep, his arse rubbing against Draco again.

Helplessly, Draco ground forward slightly, desperate for some friction against his now aching cock.

“Mmm, Draco?” Harry mumbled. Fuck, the sound of his name coming from the Chosen One’s lips sent a wave of desire coursing through him.

“Mmm, Harry,” Draco moaned as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the back of Harry’s neck. Harry shuddered against him, and Draco made a mental note that the back of Harry’s neck was an erogenous zone. He bit softly, sucking lightly. Harry shuddered again, shifting slightly.

Draco trailed his left hand, thankfully his dominant one, along Harry’s hip bone. He slipped his hand under Harry’s large shirt and reached up, searching. He found one of Harry’s nipples and gave it a light pinch, as Harry’s hips stuttered forward helplessly. He rolled the nipple between the tips of his fingers for a few minutes and Harry moaned again. Draco licked a stripe up Harry’s neck, nuzzling into the fine soft hairs of Harry’s nape.

Torturously, Draco started trailing his hand lower, his fingers now shaking in nerves. He went slowly, giving Harry plenty of time to anticipate what he was about to do. Once free of Harry’s shirt, he rubbed along Harry’s pelvis for a moment or two. Gathering his courage, he lowered his hand, over Harry’s trousers. Harry moaned again, triggering Draco to moan in response. Harry was impossibly hard, his cock straining against his pajamas. Draco palmed along his length for a few minutes, thrusting his own prick against Harry’s tailbone the entire time.

Ultimately, after what seemed an age but was probably only a few minutes, Draco lifted his hand and started running his fingers along Harry’s waistband.

“Can I, Harry?” Draco asked quietly, not wanting to push Harry too fast even though he was desperate to feel Harry in his bare hand.

“Fuck, yes, Draco, please,” Harry groaned.

Draco wasted no time and reached under Harry’s pants, running his fingers through the wiry hair. Trembling, hoping Harry wouldn’t notice, he ached to touch the prick of the man now moaning almost continuously. He wrapped a fist around Harry’s thick cock, giving a few hesitant tugs. He ran his thumb along the leaking slit, the way he himself enjoyed. He dug his right hand under Harry, gripping Harry’s hip bone in an attempt to keep Harry still so that he could drag his own cock against Harry’s cleft more consistently.

He pumped his hand in time with his own thrusts, smearing Harry’s precome to make the grip he had wonderfully slippery. He ran his fingers along the vein, enjoying the slide of Harry’s foreskin in his palm. Sweet Salazar, he felt as if he had been created for the sole purpose of touching Harry Potter’s cock.

He added a slight twist to his pumping, making sure he paid attention to the head of Harry’s dick. His own pleasure was almost forgotten as he again focused his kisses on the back of the neck presented to him. He bit, sucking harshly, determined to leave his own mark on Harry’s skin.

“Fuck, Draco, yes, just like that, oh god, please don’t stop,” Harry was babbling, seemingly unable to stop himself.

Draco leaned forward, directly into Harry’s ear, feigning a confidence he didn’t feel, and whispered, “I’m not going to stop until you come, Harry.” Then he bit that earlobe, sucking it into his mouth. He rolled it with his tongue, remembering how much he had enjoyed it when Harry had done the same to him last night.

Harry keened, and Draco felt him quaking as his hand was liberally coated with Harry’s come. The knowledge that he, Draco Malfoy, had reduced the Savior of the wizarding world to a shaking, quivering mess had him unable to stop his thrusts from becoming erratic as his orgasm took him by surprise.

“Fuck,” Harry muttered as Draco released the vise-like grip he had on Harry’s hip.

“Sorry I woke you up,” Draco whispered.

Harry flipped over. “No, don’t apologize. That was a bloody brilliant way to wake up. Plus, it was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in ages.” Harry yawned mightily and Draco almost gagged.

“Can you please use a Mouth-Freshening Charm?” He asked, a bit desperately. Harry stuttered a laugh, sitting up properly. He groped for his glasses, which were on Draco’s bedside table, so Draco handed them over. Then he handed Harry his holly wand, using his own hawthorn one for the charm on himself.

“Sorry, I just have a sensitive sense of smell.” Draco explained.

“It’s fine, Draco,” Harry smiled at him almost as dreamily as Luna, who was not someone Draco wanted to be thinking about in bed, so he quickly squashed the thought. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

Draco nodded, a bit nervously, as Harry leaned over him. Harry snogged him thoroughly, and he could feel Harry raising his knuckles to brush them across his cheekbone. Draco was completely breathless by the time Harry let him go, a silly smile making his cheeks ache.

“What time is it?” Harry asked when he let Draco go. Draco flicked his wand.

“Half past eight.”

“I should probably get back to my room, before anyone is up to see me leave.” Harry said softly.

“Yeah,” Draco said regretfully. “I wish you could stay.”

“It’s fine, Draco, I understand,” Harry muttered again, with another caress to Draco’s cheek. “Can we talk, later?”

“Yeah Harry, that sounds good.” Draco softly. “Let me check the hall.”

Draco rose and opened the door to his room quietly. The hallway was deserted.

“It’s clear,” Draco said as he pulled his head back into his room. Harry walked up to him.

“I had a good time, last night and this morning,” Harry said tentatively, reaching out a hand to touch Draco’s jaw again.

“Yeah, I did too,” Draco agreed, leaning his head into that touch. “Go, while it’s still clear. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Draco got his toiletries together after Harry left, his pants were so sticky and crusty there was no way he could fall back asleep. He quietly crossed into the communal boys’ bathroom. He went to a stall and turned on the shower, dropping his things to the floor before he went back to the wall of mirrors. He looked at himself for a few minutes, waiting for the water to heat. His lips were definitely plump and red, from all of the snogging. He also had a faint line of beard burn on his jaw. His eyes were bright and full in way he hadn’t seen before. Thankfully, he didn’t have any hickeys; he did have one red earlobe though. So, this was the infamous just-shagged look he had heard so much of. He couldn’t deny he looked better than usual; he was practically glowing. He smirked into the mirror, and then went back to his shower stall, reasoning the water would be hot enough by now.

He showered quickly; bubbles flung across the tiled walls as he scrubbed himself diligently. His many potions flooded the bathroom with his familiar citrusy scent. Finishing his wash, he turned the taps. He swiftly toweled off, dressing in his muggy stall.

Quarter of an hour later found him heading to Pansy’s room. He had so much to tell her. Briskly he knocked. Without waiting for a response, he turned the handle and pushed the door open.

He was confronted with the unwelcome sight of two naked women, blanket wrapped around their waists, rubbing their eyes open. The amount of naked breasts on display was precisely four too many as Draco slammed his eyes shut and spun around. He gave a strangled sound as Pansy laughed behind him.

“Good morning Draco,” Luna said to him. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing!” Draco said, his eyes still shut.

“Oh,” she said in a disappointed voice. “I thought perhaps you had caught a glimpse of a Moon Frog. I thought I heard one earlier but maybe I dreamt it.”

“What’s- no, never mind. Are you both decent? I need to talk to you, Pansy.” Draco said with his eyes still tightly shut.

“It’s fine, Draco,” Pansy said with a laugh. Draco turned and opened his eyes to see none other than two girls that had made no attempt at covering themselves.

“Pansy!” Draco exclaimed as he spun around again.

“Draco, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before,” Pansy said reasonably. It was true, Draco had caught sight of Pansy’s tits more times than he could count over the years but that didn’t mean he wanted to look.

“Please just put some clothes on,” Draco pleaded as he flapped a hand irritably. He heard them rustling behind him and almost sighed in relief.

“So, did Harry wind up in your bed then?” Pansy asked after she finally let him know that she was done dressing. Draco spun around again, and thankfully both girls were fully dressed in comfortable looking pajamas.

“He did.” Draco said simply as he collapsed along the end of her bed.

“How did it go?” Pansy asked.

“Perfect. It was perfect. He’s perfect,” Draco moaned miserably.

“What’s your problem then?” Pansy asked.

“He’s going to realize how perfect he is and how fucked up I am and he’s so perfect I’ll never be able to date anyone else ever again.” Draco said, covering his face with his hands. “He’s going to ruin me for anyone else.”

“Is he always this dramatic?” he heard Luna ask quietly.

“Always. Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy.” Draco flinched; she only used his full name when she was preparing to lecture him. “You just spent the night in the arms of the bloody Chosen One, the boy you’ve been crushing on for ages. You should be dancing a jig. Did you do anything embarrassing?”

Draco thought back, flush rising as he remembered how wantonly he had moaned, how desperately he had clambered onto Harry’s lap. He merely groaned in response.

“Were you generous? Did you make sure he came too?” Pansy asked reasonably.

“Merlin, Pansy!” Draco spluttered, as he thought back to the very distinct orgasm he had felt Harry have in his hand not an hour ago. The hand now clutching his own left cheek. The thought made his flush even worse. “I’m going to be completely ruined and all you can ask is if he came?”

“Look, you both had a good time, why are you borrowing trouble?”

“You sound like your mother,” Draco said scathingly.

“Don’t be nasty,” Pansy said, “just because you’re having a crisis.”

“I’m hungry, can we go to breakfast?” Luna broke in after the silence had stretched thin between them, Draco still recounting the previous night’s events in his mind.

“Of course, we can, love,” Pansy said softly. Draco looked up in shock. Love? When had that happened? Pansy was gently trailing her fingers along Luna’s neck, her eyes impossibly unguarded. The look shared between the two punched Draco in the gut. He’d never get that look from Harry; he groaned, completely non-dramatically, again.

“Unless you want a free show, Draco, up you get,” Pansy said as she casually shoved him off the bed with her foot.

“Ouch!” Draco exclaimed from the floor. “When did you get so mean?”

“When my best mate woke me up to whinge about his perfect new boyfriend. Now leave so we can get dressed.”

“Fine,” Draco grumbled as he walked across the room. He slipped out of the door, running into one of the Patil twins as he did so. “Excuse me,” he said politely as he leaned out of her way.

Silently, he followed her into the Common Room, catching sight of a large scar peeking out of the back of her top. Padma, then. He shook his hands out, making a beeline for the corner his transfigured sofa sat in. Blaise and Hermione were already there, along with the tousled mop that had slept on one of his pillows.

Draco felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment as he sat quietly next to Harry. Wordlessly, Harry handed Kai over, her tiny tongue flicking at him. Draco let Kai rustle into his hair and almost immediately felt his blush receding. When he felt able, he looked up at Harry.

There, on Harry’s neck, were three dark love bites, plainly visible. Draco preened, he felt unreasonably smug seeing his work on Harry.

“Oi, Harry, looks like your mystery bloke is quite the animal!” Seamus said as he walked in, arm-in-arm with Dean. Draco managed a small smirk, seeing Harry blush. Hermione and Blaise laughed at Harry, just as Luna and Pansy walked in.

“Everyone ready?” Pansy asked as she glanced at Harry’s throat. She winked at Draco as they went through the Common Room.

“Ready for breakfast, Breakfast?” Draco quipped, earning a groan from the group. “Hey, that was funny!”

“No, it really wasn’t,” Blaise said, as the portrait slid to the side. They crossed through the halls quickly, Luna tugging Pansy along.

Draco claimed a spot next to Harry, as Pansy sat on his other side with Luna. Blaise and Hermione took the opposite side, shoulder’s brushing. Draco fully expected the six of them to have their meal alone, as they had all term, until Dean and Seamus sat down with them too.

“So, Harry, why aren’t you sitting with your mystery man? Obviously, he enjoyed you surprising him last night.” Seamus said with a nod to Harry’s neck. His eyes widened impossibly. “Unless, you are sitting next to him…” Seamus and Dean both stared at Draco as though they’d be able to tell what he had done the night before by glance alone. Draco pulled his Occlumency shields tight just in case.

“No, I caught Draco coming out of Pansy’s room this morning,” Padma said as she sat next to Dean. At her words Draco felt a wash of relief rivaling that of when he got off with probation at his trial. Thank Merlin he had a compulsive need to tell Pansy everything.

“My bloke isn’t out; you think I’d be dumb enough to sit next to him the next day?” Harry asked, which was a bit rich, considering Harry had indeed been foolish enough to sit next to Draco.

“Your bloke then?” Draco asked swiftly.

“No, er, I mean, I’d like him to be, but,” Harry stammered out. Draco took pity on him and reached out and squeezed his thigh, under the table.

“You should probably talk to him then,” Hermione said seriously. “Communication is the cornerstone to any healthy relationship.”

“You’re changing the subject!” Seamus exclaimed. “I promise not to tell anyone Harry, c’mon be a plum and confide in a fellow queer.”

“Nope.” Harry said.

“It wasn’t me, it wasn’t Dean, wasn’t Malfoy, or Zabini. That leaves Neville, Terry, and Ernie.” Seamus said as he ticked off the eighth years. “It probably wasn’t Neville, I tried that back in fourth year.”

“Oi!” Dean said.

“To be fair, I tried with you fourth year too, you just didn’t realize,” Seamus said.

“Terry is into Parvati, that leaves Ernie!” Padma reasoned.

“How do you know Harry’s mystery man is an eighth year?” Pansy asked quickly, throwing all three conspirators for a loop.

“Then he really wouldn’t be able to sit with him, we have to sit at our table,” Dean said, connecting dots that didn’t exist.

“What House was he Sorted in Harry? Just a hint?” Seamus pleaded.

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. The three newcomers held bated breath.

“It’s the House I was almost Sorted into,” Harry said with a crafty look. Everyone except Luna looked stunned.

“You almost weren’t Sorted Gryffindor?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“But you’re the most Gryffindor that ever Gryffined,” Draco said. Harry had almost been Slytherin? Draco shook his head as he thought of how different it all might have turned out if Harry Bloody Potter had been his dorm mate.

“What House was it?” Seamus asked quickly.

“Nope, you asked for a hint, that’s your hint.”

“Well for sure it wasn’t Slytherin,” Dean said.

“Probably not Ravenclaw, I heard he couldn’t figure out the riddle the beginning of term when he broke into the Tower,” Padma said quickly.

“So, Hufflepuff,” Seamus said. “Who do we think is gay in Hufflepuff that isn’t already out?”

“Literally everyone in Hufflepuff that isn’t out,” Dean replied. “Is he at least of age, Harry?” Harry nodded with a laugh, as Draco smiled.

Just as the three non-usual members of their group really put their heads together, a huge parliament of owls began streaming through the Great Hall. Everyone stopped their conversations to stare up at the birds.

The owls began landing at the eighth year table, jostling for position as space quickly ran out. Letters began raining down, as talons released their messages. Draco untied the closest message, the miniscule desert owl flapping away as an eagle owl tried to take the tiny space it had left.

Harry Potter

Great Hall

Hogwarts

The envelope was addressed.

“Are these all for you?” Draco asked as everyone at the table began untying letters.

“Probably,” Harry muttered miserably. “I fucking hate The Prophet.”

“Salazar’s saggy tit, Harry, I’m sorry I went to the papers in fourth year,” Draco whispered in shock, unwrapping more letters.

“It’s fine Draco, really,” Harry said quietly, reciprocating Draco’s comforting squeeze to his thigh.

“No, it isn’t,” Draco whispered fiercely. He started stacking letters, irritated on Harry’s behalf. A few Howlers went off, the screaming washing out in a cacophony noise. Draco couldn’t make out any words other than ‘Harry Potter’ and ‘gay’ reverberating along the rafters. Draco growled in annoyance.

Eventually the eighth years had stripped every bird of their message.

“Just Vanish the lot,” Hermione advised. “I got a cursed letter once and it’s not worth it.” She started Vanishing the stack in front of her.

Draco started to wave his wand but then stopped. He had assumed the general population would be okay with Harry being gay, but he wanted to know. He grabbed a random letter and slid it open.

Dear Mr. Potter,

My partner and I just wanted to thank you for bringing more acceptance and awareness to our cause. I’m muggleborn and my family has a hard time understanding my sexuality. His family is pureblood and very traditional. The article brought our relationship a validation that we previously couldn’t stand on. We know how hard it is to come out and we deeply appreciate what you’ve done. Thank you,

Messrs. Goldsmith and Prewett.

The letter greatly resonated with Draco, so he slipped it into a pocket. Desperately he tore into another, as everyone else flicked their wands to Vanish the remaining letters.

Mr. H. Potter,

You should be ashamed. You are supposed to be the example we hold our children to. How am I supposed to explain to my children that their hero is a shirt lifter?

A Concerned Citizen

Draco stared at the letter in his hand. His fingers trembled, the paper shaking visibly.

“Draco?” Harry said quietly, as he laid a concerned hand across Draco’s wrist.

“It’s nothing, Potter,” Draco enunciated as he tried to tug the letter away from Potter’s grasp.

“No, what is it?” Potter said, wrestling the letter from Draco. Harry scanned the letter in a second flat.

“Do you care what this idiot thinks?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Do you not?” Draco demanded quietly, crossing his arms. Of course, Harry Bloody Potter couldn’t understand the position of a pureblood former Death Eater and how much hate he would face if he decided to come out, let alone the realities of his home life. He would be cut off, left penniless in the streets. No one would take the charity case of an unemployable former Death Eater; he was entirely dependent upon his family’s fortune.

“Not really,” Harry said in a confused tone and Draco did his best to contain his temper.

“That’s bully for you, Potter,” Draco whispered snidely, as the last of the letters were Vanished and breakfast resumed.

“Seriously, Draco?” Harry snapped.

“Look, I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco relented. “It’s just that we have different views on this, okay?”

“Can you please just not let it bug you?” Harry asked, still whispering. “I thought we were having a good day.”

“I’ll try,” Draco said softly, reaching out and briefly squeezing Harry’s hand under the table.

Draco really did try to let it go, as he ate his French toast. He couldn’t seem to get the hateful words out of his mind though. He shook his head, as though he could dislodge them physically.

After breakfast they all trooped back to the dorms, ready to break out the books. Draco had an essay for Defense he wanted to work on.

Draco took a seat next to Harry again, their knees brushing occasionally. He pulled his textbook out, attempting to read the relevant chapter on anatomy-specific shield charms and how they could be enchanted into an item. Instead, all he could think of was the way it had felt to wake up with a warm and sleepy Harry Potter in his arms and the reaction the wizarding world would have if they found out.

He really hoped he could feel that again tonight. Harry had said they would talk today, right? Maybe he could mention how he didn’t think spending two nights together in a row on a weekend was too fast. He didn’t want to scare Harry off by being needy, but he could hardly concentrate with Harry pressed against his thigh.

He read the section on the charm shielding one’s chest with the use of a necklace for the third time, the words finally sinking in.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

If he kept seeing Harry, eventually he’d be shirtless, and Harry would see his scars. True, Harry had given him those scars, but Draco genuinely couldn’t imagine Harry seeing them without being repulsed.

Salazar’s saggy sack.

Draco thought about it for a few more minutes, his eyes unfocused as he gazed at his textbook.

“You okay?” Harry asked quietly, as Draco felt a wash of annoyance that Harry could already read him this well.

“Not really,” Draco murmured. “Are you okay to talk now? I’d rather get this over with quickly.”

“Er, alright,” Harry said with a confused glance at Draco.

“Meet me in my room in a few minutes?” Draco whispered as Harry nodded.

Draco got up, not even giving an excuse as he stomped to his room. Sodding Salazar. He had finally had Harry Sodding Potter in his bed and now he had to give it up. He stood with his back to the door, fighting the urge to stamp his feet and fling himself onto his bed.

He managed to control himself, shaking his hands out roughly.

“Draco?” Harry said softly as the door creaked open.

“Harry.” Draco responded, not moving.

“Are you alright?” Harry whispered, his footsteps getting closer.

“No, not really.” Draco said quietly.

“Why not?” Harry said.

“There’s something we have to talk about,” Draco said, without turning around. “I think you’re going to call this quits at the end.”

“What is it?” Harry sounded nervous.

Draco sighed softly, trying to find the right words. “We need to talk about the bathroom.”

“What? The bathroom?” Harry asked, sounding confused.

“Sixth year,” Draco whispered, still facing the wall.

“Oh,” Harry said, understanding coloring his voice.

“Yeah, oh.”

“I’m sorry, for cursing you,” Harry said. Draco shrugged one shoulder, what did it matter really?

“It’s fine, Harry, I was trying to Crucio you.”

“Would it have worked?” Harry asked.

“I’m not sure. I never could mean it enough to make it work when my aunt was breathing down my neck, but I was really desperate right then.” Draco said quietly.

“I’m still sorry, it was an awful curse and I didn’t know what it did when I cast it,” Harry said in that soft voice that made Draco’s knees weak.

“It doesn’t matter, wasn’t the worst thing to happen to me that year,” Draco replied.

“Er, then why did you want to talk about it?” Harry asked, his voice confused again.

“I have scars. If you want to keep doing this, eventually you’ll see them,” Draco whispered, closing his eyes.

“Oh, Christ,” Harry said from behind him. Draco merely shrugged one shoulder again. “Can I see them now?”

Helplessly, Draco nodded. Might as well get this over with quickly, before he got any deeper with Harry. He reached his shaking fingers up and slowly began to unbutton his shirt. He let the fabric fall from his shoulders, as he reached for the hem of his undershirt. He tossed both shirts onto the foot of his bed, trying to pull up every remnant of mental defense he could. He really didn’t want to break down when Harry inevitably drew away in revulsion.

Slowly, he turned around, fixing his eyes to the door behind Harry, comforted by the sight of an exit.

“Jesus, Draco,” Harry said, and Draco could feel the weight of his stare.

Draco remained silent, unable to form words as he felt more exposed and vulnerable than he had possibly ever felt before. Even yesterday when he had shown his Mark to two different people had been less difficult. Now he had not even the semblance of privacy as the scars that only Severus, Madam Pomfrey, and the auror that had processed him into Azkaban had seen were clearly on display.

“Can I touch them?” Harry asked, breaking though Draco’s memories.

“Give me a minute,” Draco said, anxious for some semblance of control in a situation he knew had none. He took a few more moments and then risked a glance at Harry’s face.

What he saw made him freeze. Harry didn’t look disgusted. Instead Harry had an impossibly gentle look about him, as though approaching a wild animal; tinged with a bit of fierceness that made Draco think Harry would turn into that same wild animal to protect him.

“Go on then,” Draco said softly, watching Harry’s eyes devour him.

Harry reached forward, his warm fingers brushing the top of Draco’s scars. Draco’s scars started on his left collarbone and splashed diagonally across his entire chest, eventually ending just across his right hipbone.

Harry traced them silently, one finger drawing lines up and down Draco’s chest. Draco shivered.

“Is this alright?” Harry whispered, hand stilling.

“It’s fine, they’re just sensitive,” Draco said as he felt his nipples harden. Harry resumed his caressing. Suddenly Draco had a thought. “If you still want to, you can touch my Mark.” Draco said quietly.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, his tone indecipherable.

“Yeah Harry, it’s okay,” Draco said, holding out his right arm once again. Harry gently took him by the wrist with one hand. The other softly caressed Draco’s inner elbow.

Draco locked onto the expression on Harry face as Harry slowly ran his fingers along Draco’s skin, eventually reaching Draco’s Mark. As soon as Harry touched the edge of the Mark, Draco flinched, the Dark magic of the Mark resonating through his veins. He couldn’t help it. Harry immediately stilled again.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked quietly.

“Yeah, just no one ever touches me there,” Draco responded, “I don’t even touch myself there.”

Harry’s hand immediately drew back. “Why did you say it was okay then?”

“It felt nice, when you touched the ones on my chest,” Draco whispered. “I just thought it might be okay there, too.”

“I don’t need to, Draco, it’s fine,” Harry said instead. Harry lifted his hand and ran it along Draco’s jaw again. “You thought I wouldn’t want you because you have scars?”

“Yeah,” Draco breathed, leaning into Harry’s palm. Harry inched closer, raising his face.

“You’re an idiot, do you know that?” Harry said softly, just as Draco lowered his face-

“I am not!” Draco said, abruptly pulling away.

“Yes, you are,” Harry said. “Do you know how many scars I have from the war?”

Helplessly, Draco shook his head.

“Aside from the one that earned me the nickname ‘scarhead’, I have this from being bitten by a basilisk in second year,” Harry turned his elbow out for Draco to see. “This one is from fourth year when Voldemort was reborn,” Harry extended his other arm. He stripped off his shirt. “This one is from the hunt,” he indicated an oval scar on his collarbone. “And this one is from when I died.” Directly over Harry’s heart was a jagged, branching scar, spanning the size of Draco’s palm.

Draco reached out slowly, placing his hand on the swell of Harry’s trapezoid. He ran his thumb along the oval scar, marveling at the trust Harry was showing him.

“Do my scars make you want to stop doing this?” Harry asked quietly.

“Merlin, no,” Draco said, unable to stop his eyes from feasting on the naked chest of Harry Potter.

“Well, same for me,” Harry said, resuming his mapping of Draco’s scars with his fingers. Draco shivered again.

“So, we’re going to keep doing this?” Draco asked leaning into Harry’s touch.

“I want to,” Harry replied.

“Me too,” Draco said, finally leaning down and brushing his lips against Harry’s. Regretfully, he broke away before he could lose himself in Harry’s mouth. “We should get back, before anyone notices.”

“Right then,” Harry said, bending down to grab his top from the floor.

“Oh, and Harry?” Draco said, doing up his buttons.

“Mmm?” came the muffled answer as Harry pulled on his Gryffindor shirt.

“I don’t share, so you had better not let me find you in Dean or Seamus’s bed.”

“I don’t either, so tell Lisa to keep her lips to herself,” Harry laughed as he left Draco’s bedroom.

Chapter Text

Harry woke up sweating from a nightmare a few weeks later. He shook the fear quickly, with the help of Kai from her tank. She had grown enough to not need to perch on his head to ease his pain or fear.

It helped immeasurably when he remembered it was Friday. He had recently grown to love Fridays. Friday started with Potions, where Draco was helping him recover his reputation with Slughorn. Then they had Charms, where Flitwick was still favoring Luna. The eighth years had finally pulled ahead in points, though now they had to contend with Quidditch season beginning, throwing around huge point awards like confetti.

The best part about Fridays was the fact that tonight Harry would sleep in Draco’s bed. Fridays and Saturdays were the only nights they could reasonably pull it off, what with the rest of the dormmates being up early on weekdays. Harry’s Invisibility Cloak had never seen this much use.

They had tried sleeping in Harry’s room once in the beginning, but as soon as things had gotten interesting, Kai had broken in with an irritated hiss.

“What is this emotion? It tastes of fire and craving.”

“Desire, arousal.” Harry had hissed back, lifting his head from kissing Draco’s collarbone.

“Please take this desire far away from me, it is disgusting,” Kai had commanded sibilantly.

“Mmm, Harry don’t stop,” Draco had groaned beneath him, his hands scrabbling along Harry’s spine.

“Fuck, we have to go to your room,” Harry had said regretfully, “Kai says we’re disgusting.”

Draco’s eyes, before unfocused and blown wide in arousal, had centered on his slowly. “What?”

“C’mon, we’re grossing her out and we can use my Cloak,” Harry had said as he scrambled off of Draco. Draco had stuttered a laugh, raising himself up quickly, not trying to hide his arousal.

Harry had pulled Draco behind himself, enjoying the feel of Draco’s erection against him as he had flung his Cloak about their shoulders.

Now Harry dressed quickly, reasoning he would have his wash after classes. He picked up Kai and set her on his shoulder, her new favorite place to perch. As she had grown, so had her confidence and curiosity. She was no longer content to hide in his pocket or hair, instead she watched and questioned everything.

It was quite distracting in class but her humorous comments were Draco’s favorite. Harry would write a quick note every time she said something funny and sneak it into something of Draco's to find later. Harry would see Draco smile each time he found a note and treasured those moments, as Draco was often too reserved to open up in public.

Before the war Draco had enjoyed being the center of attention, constantly drawing focus on himself in crowds. These days, Draco was quiet and almost afraid to stand out.

“Do you actively try to look this messy?” Draco now said as they both exited their rooms at the same time.

“What’s wrong with how I look?” Harry asked, glancing down at himself. Draco merely smirked and reached out to straighten his tie. Harry felt his collar tighten as Draco concentrated on the task in hand.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered as he leaned forward, tilting his face up. Harry heard a door creak open and Draco jumped away, pulling his hands back so fast he almost appeared blurred.

“Come on, Draco,” Harry said instead, as they followed Neville into the Common Room.

They were the first two ready in their now-cemented group, so they sat in their corner, waiting for everyone else to reach the Common Room. Blaise was next to take a seat, Hermione shortly thereafter. Pansy and Luna came in last, arm-in-arm.

“Finally,” Blaise moaned, rubbing his stomach as everyone laughed.

The six of them trouped through the halls, Harry inevitably walking next to Draco. It was hard to stand so close to his boyfriend without taking his hand, but Harry had finally mastered that impulse. The impulse to kiss Draco had taken longer to control, in fact Harry still hadn’t. He found himself leaning into Draco almost every day. Only Draco’s iron resolve had kept Harry from veritably attacking Draco’s mouth in the halls.

They sat at their end of the table, Blaise pouring tea for Hermione. The morning post streamed in, with Harry only receiving two letters. The volume of mail he received after the article had dropped off significantly each day. He Vanished both before Draco could steal them. Draco had a weird obsession with reading his fan mail. Most people mailed in their support, but Draco always took the odd hateful letter especially hard.

After breakfast, they all went down to the dungeons. Today was the day they’d learn if their potion was acceptable on the first attempt. Harry had done everything exactly as Draco had told him, dicing and slicing when the instructions clearly stated otherwise.

Eventually he had figured out why Draco was always changing the preparation of ingredients on him. It was the same as when he had had the book of the Half-Blood Prince.

Potions was full of variables. You could follow the instructions to the letter and get a serviceable result; or you could execute them in a way that was remarkable, using your wit and knowledge to enhance the results.

Draco was clearly an artist, the way he brewed and mixed and stirred. Harry was transfixed each Friday as he ground Bicorn horn and peeled leeches. Draco tossed ingredients into their cauldron without even measuring, using a pinch of his fingers or the scoop of his palm. Harry had no idea if their potion was doing well or not, it was the right color, but it wasn’t as gloppy as when Hermione brewed it in second year.

“Outstanding!” Professor Slughorn said as he stirred the potion. “Harry, my boy, yet again you’ve shown you have everything it takes to become a true Potions Master.”

“Oh, no, sir, this one was all Draco,” Harry said, determined to give Draco his due.

“Is that so?” Slughorn looked thoughtful as he nodded at Draco, moving on to the next done pair, Hermione and Blaise.

Harry heard Slughorn give them an “Exceeds Expectations.”

“You didn’t have to do that, Harry,” Draco muttered, as they cleared their worktable.

“Yes, I did, you deserve credit for your hard work,” Harry said stoutly.

“The round one is delightful, he tastes of hunger and deterioration,” Kai hissed.

Harry smirked and picked up his quill. After he wrote the quick note, he folded it and slipped it into the front pocket of Draco’s bag.

Harry and Draco wiped down their workspace, as Slughorn gave a short lecture.

“For those of you finishing the Polyjuice Potion acceptably the first time, it is now that I announce your extra credit potion. You will attempt to brew a cure for the Draught of Living Death. Make no mistake, antidotes are tricky to get the first time, this will not be an easy task.”

Harry glanced at Draco, who was practically vibrating in excitement. Harry smiled at the sight.

“Can we go over our approach this weekend? We need to break down the Draught and figure out how we’re going to counteract each ingredient.” Draco asked with a furrowed brow as he digested the problem.

“Of course, though I don’t know how much help I’m going to be,” Harry replied with a laugh.

“Too right,” Draco muttered with a fond glance.

Class was soon dismissed, and everyone headed to lunch. Draco dropped his fork once, but thankfully no one asked. Harry had no idea how Draco had managed to hide his nerve damage from the rest of the eighth years, but he had, even from Pansy and Blaise.

“Hermione, have you done the Arithmancy essay yet?” Draco asked instead. Harry turned away after that, having zero interest in the complicated magic that was N.E.W.T. level Arithmancy.

“Pansy, can we go to Hogsmeade this weekend?” Luna asked, as the eighth years had an open permission to visit the village any weekend they wanted.

“Of course,” Pansy said. Harry thought of his now depleted candy reserves and the fact that Christmas was just a few weeks away.

“Can I join?” Harry asked. “I need to get some things. Want to come too, Draco?” Harry asked at Pansy and Luna’s nods.

Draco barked a dry laugh. “Are you mad, Potter? I can’t go to the village; I’d be chased out with sharpened pitchforks!”

“What if we go together?” Harry asked quietly. “No one will bug you if I’m there.”

“I can’t risk it Harry, you know that. But will you maybe get me some Chocolate Frogs?” Draco asked.

“Of course, I will,” Harry said softly, ignoring the sting of disappointment. Resolutely he focused on positive thoughts, this was the perfect chance to get Draco’s Christmas gift.

What do you get the bloke that has everything though? Harry let that thought occupy his mind for the rest of lunch, hardly noticing when they all got up to go to Charms. He couldn’t seem to think of anything as he sat next to Draco at their shared desk.

“Today we will be charming objects to attach themselves together. This charm has limitless potentialities, useful in many ways. From when you run out of Spello-tape, to when you need to hang your cap on the wall, this charm is the one to use.”

“Junctus!” The incantation rang through the room as the eighth years attempted to bind two papers together.

Then Harry had a wonderful, brilliant idea. He suddenly knew exactly what he could get Draco for Christmas.

“Twenty points to the eighth years for Luna’s quick mastery of the spell,” Professor Flitwick’s chirpy voice cut through Harry’s thoughts.

The rest of the class passed rapidly, and Harry had gotten the hang of the spell by the end. Flitwick squeakily announced the homework of a roll of parchment on the uses for the enchantment for everyone that hadn’t mastered it. Harry counted himself lucky as Pansy groaned along with a few other students.

They all trouped out of the classroom, ready for supper. Harry dragged a platter of roast potatoes over, as Hermione plopped a scoop of steamed spinach onto his plate. Harry glared at her as she repeated the process with Blaise. No way was he touching the sodding stuff. Normally Harry wasn’t a picky eater, having spent the majority of his childhood routinely starved, but recently Harry had decided that if he didn’t want to put something in his mouth, he wouldn’t.

Which brought him back to his plans for tonight. He and Draco hadn’t gone past hand jobs and frottage and Harry was aching to taste Draco. He desperately hoped Draco was as ready as he was, though they hadn’t talked about it at all. He wondered how he could broach the subject as Kai derailed his train of thought.

“The fluffy one has annoyed you, why is that?”

“Fluffy?” Harry huffed a laugh. True, Hermione’s natural thick curls circled her head like a halo, but Harry really couldn’t equate such a soft word as ‘fluffy’ with none other than Hermione Granger, the fiercest witch Harry had ever met.

“Yes, her nest is fluffy.” ‘Nest’ was Kai’s word for hair.

“She put gross food on my plate. I’m not going to eat it.” Harry explained with a hiss.

“Why is it gross?” Kai asked reasonably. Harry took a small forkful of the spinach and held it up for Kai to flick her tongue at. “That is disgusting! Take it away at once!”

“I did warn you,” Harry laughed.

“Even Kai thinks spinach is gross, ‘Mione,” Harry said aloud.

“I told you!” Blaise exclaimed.

“It might not taste the best, but it’s good for you,” Hermione said.

After supper, the eighth years tromped through the halls, intent on reaching their portrait. Saudade slid to the side silently, watching them pass with sorrowful eyes.

Harry concentrated on his homework, sitting next to a very distracting Draco. Draco seemed not to notice as Harry did his level best to ignore the thigh pressed against his own. Eventually Harry gave up, deciding he had spent enough time pretending to write his essay. He quilled a short note to Draco, sliding it over onto Draco’s open book.

“Tonight, I want to suck you off.”

Draco froze next to him, and Harry hoped that was a good sign. Draco’s cheeks were flushed, as he darted a quick glance at Harry. Harry smiled, hoping the darkness of his skin was hiding his own flush. Breathlessly, Draco nodded, eyes wider than Harry had ever seen.

“What are you two talking about?” Pansy broke in making them both jump.

“Nothing!” Draco said quickly. Harry smirked as Kai gave a hungry hiss from his shoulder.

“Then you won’t mind if I read that note. Accio parchment!” Pansy said, causing the paper to fly out of Draco’s weakened grasp. Draco tried to spring forward but Harry stopped him with a hand to his wrist.

“It’s fine, Draco,” he muttered

“This is blank,” Pansy said in confusion.

“I enchanted it so only Draco can read it,” Harry said smugly.

“How on earth did you manage that, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Found a privacy charm in the library,” Harry said with a smirk. It was true too; he had brushed up on advanced privacy spells the morning after he had first woken up in Draco’s arms. The last thing he needed was for someone to walk in on him and Draco when he had finally gotten the gorgeous bastard in bed.

“Teach us!” Pansy exclaimed.

“That could be useful to know,” Hermione agreed.

Books were set aside, and papers put away. Harry settled into teaching his classmates easily, nostalgia for Dumbledore’s Army bringing a smile to his face. Hermione caught on quickly, Draco a few minutes after. Pansy was having trouble, and after watching her for a few minutes Harry thought he spotted the issue.

“I think your grip is too tight Pansy, try loosening your wrist.” He reached out and rotated her hand in the charm movement, helping her muscle memory catch onto the spell. “Try again.”

Pansy cast the charm flawlessly. “Thanks Harry, you’re brilliant!”

“It’s no big deal, Pansy.” As Draco slid him a note.

“Only if I can suck you off too.”

Harry felt himself starting to grow hard as he stared at the note in his lap. Bugger.

Thinking desperately of Umbridge in the shower, Harry managed to keep anyone from noticing. Everyone except Draco, who was smirking at him again.

“Enjoying yourself, are you?” Harry muttered.

“Immensely,” Draco murmured back. Cocky bastard.

“Right, well I’m going to have my wash,” Harry whispered with a wink. “Where I’ll be wet. And naked.”

“Arsehole,” Draco ground out.

“Among other things,” Harry breathed, making Draco blush again.

“Can you not contain your desire until I am far away?” Kai said irritably. Harry laughed.

He ambled down the hall, opening the door to his room quietly. He let Kai back into her tank, telling her where he was going. She thanked him for the distance as he gathered his pajamas and toiletries.

He crossed into the bathroom, hanging his things on the hooks. Distractedly he turned on the taps. He got undressed in the stall, stroking himself lightly. He brought himself to full hardness as he waited for the water to heat.

He stepped under the spray, soaking his hair. He leaned back, grabbing his soap and shampoo from the waterproof basket he kept his things in. He cleaned himself meticulously before returning his focus to his neglected cock.

He tugged himself quickly, knowing he needed to take the edge off if he had any chance of lasting more than ten seconds later tonight. Moaning loudly, he pictured Draco getting to his knees in front of him. Just the thought of Draco’s hot wet mouth wrapping around his prick had his orgasm threatening to make its appearance sooner rather than later. He lowered his other hand, fondling his heavy bullocks as his stomach coiled in anticipation. He managed to hold off another ten minutes, trying to forestall the inevitable.

“Mmm, yes, just like that,” Harry groaned, tightening his grip. He started thrusting into his fist as his orgasm crashed through him. “Oh fuck,” he said as his come painted stripes on the tiled wall. Shaking, he milked the last of his orgasm from his heavy cock.

“Not that we didn’t enjoy it Harry, but you should probably try to remember Silencing Charms if you’re going to wank in a public bathroom.” Seamus’s voice echoed in the restroom.

“Oh my god,” Harry said, mortified.

“It’s fine, we won’t say anything,” came Dean’s voice. Frantically Harry tried to remember if he had said Draco’s name.

“Er, I didn’t say anyone’s name, did I?” Harry asked as he turned off the taps. Now he could clearly hear the other shower going and the rustling of movement.

“No, you didn’t.” Dean said in a strangled voice.

“Wait, are you two…” Harry trailed off.

“Sorry,” Seamus groaned helplessly. “But that was just so fucking hot.”

“Oh my god,” Harry said again as he dressed faster than he ever had before. The sounds of two blokes going at it made his cock twitch in interest, but the humiliation of having been caught tossing off yet again kept him from gaining too much interest.

He darted into his room, dropping his things on his bed as Kai gave a happy hiss from her tank.

“Thank you, Dessert, your mortification is once again delectable.” Kai said happily, “I have forgiven you for your inconsideration from earlier.”

Harry felt immeasurably better within moments, how had he ever survived without Kai? He remembered a lot of anger and frustration; and feeling like he was constantly on the edge of losing his temper. He still felt that way sometimes but now he knew those feelings were valid and not the result of Voldemort sharing his mind.

He went back to the Common Room, taking back his seat next to Draco. Draco was finishing an essay, his concentration unbroken. Harry smiled as he watched Draco reload ink in his quill.

A Stinging Hex hit his ribs and he yelped.

“You’re being obvious, Harry,” Pansy muttered as she tucked her wand behind her ear the same way Luna did.

“Sorry,” Harry said, averting his gaze.

“It’s fine, Harry,” Draco muttered as he lifted a few sheets of parchment to find his open book.

“Thanks Draco,” Harry said softly, keeping his eyes turned down.

Once Draco finished his essay, he put away his things, laughing with everyone as Pansy caught more Beans that Luna was tossing her way.

“Can we go to bed soon?” Harry muttered as nine o’clock approached.

“Yeah, let me just grab a shower,” Draco whispered back. “Give me half an hour?”

Harry nodded silently and refocused on the group. Hermione was leaning against Blaise, smiling over whatever he had just said.

Harry smiled as now Pansy flicked a few Beans for Luna to catch. Harry sat for the half hour, laughing with his friends as part of his mind tracked time.

Eventually he got up, “I’m off to bed.”

“Have fun,” Pansy said with an evil smirk.

“Harry, please tell us you’re heading to the bed of whatever bloke had you so loud earlier,” Seamus called out from across the Common Room.

“Oh my god, Seamus, that’s none of your business!” Harry exclaimed, as he blushed fiercely. Harry went to his room and grabbed his Cloak. He slung it across his shoulders and then silently snuck across the hall to Draco’s room. He gave a quick tap of his knuckles, warning Draco he was there. He quietly opened the door, then darted inside swiftly.

He heard Draco warding the door and waited impatiently for him to finish.

“Hey,” Draco finally said softly from the darkness. Harry threw off his Cloak, tossing it onto the chair.

“Hey,” Harry said as he drew forward quietly. He reached Draco quickly, their rooms not being exceptionally large. He raised a hand. Draco leaned into that touch as Harry saw Draco’s walls disintegrate. Harry smiled as he caressed Draco’s cheekbone with a thumb.

Draco was sat on the edge of his bed and Harry wedged himself between Draco’s knees. It wasn’t often that he was taller than Draco and he took advantage of that height difference. He grabbed the back of Draco’s neck and snogged him thoroughly.

He explored the hot wet cavern that was Draco’s mouth with a shudder. Soon that mouth would be wrapped around him. Helplessly, he pushed Draco back, climbing onto Draco’s lap as their teeth clacked together.

The awkwardness was quickly forgotten as Harry straddled Draco. He ground down as he let his tongue explore Draco’s mouth. He could feel how hard Draco was and had to stop himself from frotting them both to completion. Instead he snogged Draco, grinding slowly, teasingly. He turned his attention to Draco’s neck, biting softly.

“Ungh, Harry, don’t leave a mark,” Draco reminded him for what felt like the millionth time. Harry released Draco’s skin and leaned up.

“Don’t you know a healing spell?” He asked quietly as he tugged off his shirt.

“Do they work?” Draco moaned, as Harry pulled Draco’s shirt off too. “You never heal the love bites I give you.”

“I’ve never tried,” Harry whispered into the shell of Draco’s ear. “I like everyone knowing I’m with you, even if they don’t know who you are.”

Draco shivered. “Fine, I’ll try to heal one tomorrow, but for now keep them where no one will see.”

Harry latched onto Draco’s collarbone instead, causing a deep purple bruise. He smirked at the sight and then slowly began lowering his face. He placed wet sloppy kisses along Draco’s chest. He felt Draco scratch his back as he found one of Draco’s nipples with his tongue. He laved at it, nibbling gently, as Draco shuddered again.

Slowly he trailed down, mixing love bites among Draco’s scars. Draco’s breathing turned harsh every time Harry licked a scar, so Harry spent time scraping his teeth along them, attempting to turn Draco into a mess before he took him in his mouth.

The past few weeks had taught Harry a decent amount of how worked up Draco was based on his breathing and movements and right now Harry could tell Draco was wound up.

Relenting, he slid even lower, biting the scar across Draco’s hip harshly. His efforts rewarded him with Draco’s first moan and Harry glanced up. Draco looked hot and greedy and desperate, which is exactly what Harry had wanted. Harry slid a finger under Draco’s waistband.

“Off?” Harry whispered. Draco scrambled to comply, as Harry rolled to the side for a moment.

Harry had seen Draco’s cock before, but never this close. Draco was slightly longer than Harry, though not quite as thick. From this close, Draco looked impossibly large. How was he going to fit all of that in his mouth?

Gathering his infamous Gryffindor courage, Harry took a deep breath and wrapped a hand around the leaking length. He bit another mark into Draco’s other hip as he gave a few strokes. Deciding he had teased Draco enough; Harry finally licked a stripe up Draco’s shaft. Draco gave a high-pitched whine, as Harry sucked the tip of him in his mouth. He swirled his tongue along the tip, finally, finally, tasting Draco.

Abandoning all further inhibitions, Harry dove in enthusiastically. Letting Draco’s moans guide him, Harry licked and sucked along Draco’s length. Harry released Draco’s shaft and held onto both of his hips to keep him still. Harry returned to his goal, sucking Draco back into his mouth. Draco’s prick was heavy on his tongue as Draco tried to thrust weakly.

Harry got his rhythm down as he bobbed his head, taking Draco’s length better than he had expected. Draco moaned above him, and he ground against the sheets, desperate for friction for his own aching cock. He felt Draco wind a hand through his hair, tugging slightly.

“Harry, I’m close,” Harry gave a moan of his own, desperately taking Draco even deeper. He really, really wanted to taste Draco. Draco let out an exquisite moan, quaking and shaking as his come flooded Harry’s mouth.

It was hot and salty and impossibly delicious. Harry felt as if he could taste Draco every day and it wouldn’t be enough.

Draco went boneless as Harry scrambled back up, snuggling back into Draco’s embrace. He trailed messy kisses along Draco’s neck, pulling an earlobe between his teeth to roll with his tongue. His erection pressed into Draco’s hip as he ground forward helplessly. Harry could tell the exact moment Draco recovered, as he was abruptly rolled onto his back.

Draco attacked his neck, undoubtably leaving more love bites. Harry groaned aloud, he was so hard and turned on he didn’t know how he was going to last. Draco’s hands trailed down his chest, pulling on the drawstring to Harry’s pajama bottoms. Catching Draco’s intent, Harry shucked them off. Finally, he was naked, pressed to Draco, who was wrapping a fist around him.

Draco lowered his head, dropping wet kisses along Harry’s skin as he made his way torturously lower. Harry rubbed his hands over Draco’s shoulders, as Draco left more dark bruises on his skin.

“Oh god, Draco, please,” Harry moaned aloud. Draco must have been waiting for those words because he immediately sucked the tip of Harry’s cock into his mouth. It was easily the best thing Harry had ever felt. He ran one hand through Draco’s locks, the other he rummaged through the sheets, grabbing a handful of fabric.

He looked down, which proved to be a huge mistake. Draco’s pink lips were stretched wide around his prick, and his eyes were locked on Harry’s.

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry groaned, throwing his head back. Draco responded by taking him even deeper and swallowing. Harry felt himself trying to thrust as Draco pinned one of his hips to the bed. Harry could hear himself moaning almost continuously as Draco took him impossibly deep. Draco’s nose brushed the thick curls of his pubic hair and Harry spared a moment to wonder at Draco taking him the whole way his first time. Draco swallowed again and Harry felt his orgasm shift closer.

“Yes, Draco, just like that, oh god, oh fuck,” Harry mumbled. Draco’s other hand rolled Harry’s heavy bullocks in his palm. The thought of Draco drifting that hand back a little bit further was tantalizing. He imagined Draco fingering him open just as Draco gave a particularly hard suck.

“Fuck, Draco, I’m going to come,” Harry said with a tug to Draco’s hair. Harry looked down again to see Draco release his prick with a soft pop. Draco wrapped his hand around Harry again, stroking quickly. Harry’s orgasm slammed through him, and he came in thick stripes. The sight of his come on Draco’s face was impossibly sexy, prolonging his pleasure. Draco wrung every drop from his thick cock, not stopping until Harry fell back onto the pillows. He heard Draco mutter a quick Cleaning Charm.

“That was bloody brilliant,” Harry said as Draco laid his head next to his. He ran his fingers over Draco’s freshly cleansed cheek.

…

The next day Harry was walking through Hogsmeade with Luna, Pansy, and the last-minute addition of Hermione. Blaise had elected to stay behind with Draco.

Harry and Hermione fell into step as Pansy and Luna walked in front of them, yet again arm-in-arm.

“Let’s go to Honeydukes, I need to get some Chocolate Frogs,” Harry suggested.

“And what Draco wants, Draco gets,” Hermione said with a smirk.

“Shhh, ‘Mione! No names in public, you know that,” Harry said quietly.

“Don’t make me hex you,” Pansy warned.

“Sorry! What should I call him then?” Hermione asked.

“How about the pale one? That’s what Kai calls him,” Harry suggested.

“No, too easy to guess,” Luna said with a smile. “How about Moon Frog?”

“He is pale as the moon, and he does love Chocolate Frogs,” Pansy said speculatively, obviously already on board with the suggestion.

“Fine, Moon Frog it is, but you have to tell him,” Harry said as he laughed helplessly.

“Deal,” Pansy said with a mischievous smile, as she opened the door of the shop for Luna. The four of them went through the aisles, Harry pulling out a veritable mountain of Chocolate Frogs. He revised his description of his armload as he eyed the vast amount of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans that were floating behind Pansy. What he had was nothing in comparison.

He grabbed a few more sweets, just for variety. He went to the front to pay as Hermione met up with him with a few sugar-free candies.

“Get everything you need?” He asked as they put their score on the counter.

“Yeah, thanks Harry,” Hermione said.

“It’s fine Hermione, you know I don’t mind,” Harry said simply.

“Still, I really appreciate it,” Hermione said with a hand to his arm.

“I like sharing what I have with the people I love, and you’re my best mate. Ron was always too proud to accept my help,” Harry said quietly, as he paid the worker.

“Yeah, there’s a lot about Ron that I’m realizing wasn’t the healthiest,” Hermione said softly.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked curiously, as they exited the shop.

“Later, Harry,” Hermione muttered as Pansy and Luna followed them out.

“Is it okay if we split up? Luna wants tea and I was thinking Madam Puddifoot’s. We can just meet back in the Common Room later?” Pansy asked with a gentle glance at her girlfriend.

“Yeah, that sounds great, I need to get Moon Frog’s Christmas present anyway,” Harry said, chuckling.

“This early?” Hermione asked as Pansy beamed at him.

“Well, yeah, I haven’t had a lot of time without him lately,” Harry mumbled.

“That’s just lovely Harry, Dra-Moon Frog hasn’t had someone be thoughtful of him before. I’m happy you’re treating him well,” Pansy said with smile. Her smile took on a feral cast. “But don’t you dare get him something tacky, I’ll hex you sideways.”

“I wasn’t planning on it!” Harry called as Pansy and Luna walked away.

“Speaking of tacky, I see your neck is yet again covered in love bites.” Hermione said with a nod at his throat as they walk along the High Street.

“What can I say, Moon Frog is a bit enthusiastic,” Harry said smugly. “What about you? I never see you with a hickey.”

“I’m smart enough to make sure he keeps them off my neck,” Hermione winked.

“Gross, ‘Mione, I really didn’t need that image in my mind,” Harry said as he opened the door of Gladrags Wizardwear.

“What are you getting Moon Frog for Christmas then? A tie?” Hermione asked softly.

“No, I was thinking like a bracelet of some kind?” Harry said in his indoor voice. He turned to the wall of accessories.

“Why a bracelet?” Hermione wanted to know.

“No reason,” Harry said nervously.

“It’s fine, Harry, you don’t have to tell me everything about your relationship with Moon Frog. Just as long as you know you can and that I won’t tell anyone.” Hermione said.

“Thanks, ‘Mione, you’re the best mate ever.”

“Do you mind if I pick out a present for Blaise too?” Hermione asked, turning to peer around the shop.

“Not at all, let’s knock it out,” Harry smiled.

He looked at the wall of accessories for a few minutes. Soon he found the two contenders, a couple of leather cuffs. One was black with a silver buckle and the other was brown with brass. With a frown he considered them, maybe Draco would want to match it to his clothing?

“Ready Harry?” Hermione asked with a soft looking jumper in hand.

“Yup,” Harry said as he grabbed both cuffs. He’d start with the black and if he figured it out, he’d move onto the brown.

They checked out, and Harry made a mental note to owl Gringotts as his money bag felt considerably lighter.

“Do you need anything else?” Harry asked.

“No, that was it, let’s go back,” Hermione said simply.

“Actually, I need to visit the bookstore, do you mind?” Harry said instead.

“Oh, can I pick out a few reference books?” Hermione asked.

“Of course,” Harry said with a smile.

An hour later found them walking back to Hogwarts, arms laden with their purchases.

“What did you mean about Ron not being the healthiest?” Harry asked with a quick glance around to confirm they were alone.

“Think about it, Harry,” Hermione said quietly. “He left us during the hunt, he stopped talking to you every time the papers ran an expose, and he was even mean to Crookshanks.”

“Been bottling this up, have you?” Harry asked with a chuckle.

“Well, it’s not like we’ve had a lot of time to talk lately,” Hermione said.

“Sorry, ‘Mione,” Harry muttered shamefaced.

“No, it’s okay, Harry, I want you to be happy, if anyone deserves it, it’s you.” Hermione said with a tug to his elbow. “I’ve been distracted too, with Blaise. Maybe we can make sure to set some time aside to get together each week?”

“When are you going to find time for that when you have N.E.W.T.s and a boyfriend?” Harry laughed.

“Thursday nights? I don’t take the Astronomy N.E.W.T. and neither do you.” Hermine asked.

“Er, I have a thing with Moon Frog on Tuesday and Thursday nights.”

“Sunday nights then,” Hermione said a bit desperately.

“Sounds perfect.”

Chapter Text

A few weeks later, Draco was sitting in the library with the others. They were writing essays for History of Magic, though some of them were paying more attention than others. Luna and Harry were skidding a folded piece of parchment across the table at each other, not even pretending to work on the assignment.

“Point!” Luna exclaimed with a giggle.

“Fine, now it’s five to two,” Harry laughed quietly, handing back the missive. Luna flicked the paper across the table, aiming for two inkpots framing the goal Harry had set in front of himself. It didn’t quite make it, so Harry took the triangle and skipped it back. It went wide of Luna’s paperweight goalposts.

Draco did his best to ignore them, keeping his place with a finger on the lines of his heavy textbook, as his wand hand took the relevant information down.

“If you aren’t going to study, can you at least go back to the Common Room and leave me in peace?” Hermione said irritably, from behind her stack of parchment. Harry and Luna laughed and got up, Pansy inevitably following. Blaise looked torn for a moment, but then packed his things away, obviously tired of revising.

“I’ll see you later, ‘Mione, I think I’m going to call it quits as well.” Blaise said as he placed a quick peck on Hermione’s cheek. She smiled at him as Harry looked at Draco longingly. Draco gave a shake of his head.

“I’m going to stay, I want to finish this,” he said softly. After everyone left, he and Hermione studied in silence. Draco found himself relaxing into the whisper of the library, the scratching of quills on parchment soothing him. The turning of pages was the only other sound, until Hermione set her quill down and stared at Draco.

Draco felt her eyes on him, so he set his own quill down; folding his shaky hands in his lap as he raised his gaze to look her in the eye.

“I’m not going to ask what your intentions with Harry are. I’ve been watching you very closely these past few months, and I can tell you care a great deal about him,” Hermione said. “I’m just going to remind you that I’m Hermione Granger, one of the Golden Trio that took down Voldemort, and I’ll have a special hex reserved especially for you if you hurt him.”

“So, this is the famous hurt-my-best-mate-and-I-hurt-you speech.” Draco said.

“Indeed, it is,” Hermione said sweetly.

“Tell me something, Hermione,” Draco began softly, “Did you give this same warning to Ginny?”

“No,” Hermione said slowly. “But she was Ron’s sister.”

“And now? Now that she very publicly hurt him, and Ron is no longer part of the picture? Have you hexed her yet?”

“No,” Hermione said in confusion. “Harry handled Ginny, why would I hex her when he made her a social pariah?”

“Exactly, Hermione. Harry handled his own problem with Ginny. Do you think he couldn’t do the same with me? Do you know how much I have to lose if Harry were to seek some form of retribution for this imaginary pain I have yet to cause?” Draco whispered fiercely. “Do you know how many hexes I’ve already had cast at me this year? How much worse would it be if Harry didn’t sit next to me in class?”

Hermione’s eyes were huge as she shook her head.

“Let’s just say that I’m lucky Professor Gwilt taught us to charm permanent shields into objects.” He lifted a simple silver chain from beneath his collar. “I don’t dare leave the Common Room without wearing this. I’ve been bloody thankful that most have been simple hexes, the charm could never hold up against a serious curse. I really don’t need a hex from someone I had begun to think of as a friend.”

“I’m sorry, Draco, I didn’t know,” Hermione said as she reached her hand out. Draco slid his chair back a few inches. He couldn’t tolerate being touched by anyone when he felt this vulnerable. Well, anyone but Harry. Somehow Harry Sodding Potter was proving able to break down the barriers that Draco had built to survive the Darkest of wizards sleeping under the same roof as him.

“I just have a question,” Draco whispered forcefully, as he pulled his mental defenses tight. “You brought up the Dark Lord and how you helped defeat him. Was that some sort of gauche way of reminding me of the war? Did you threaten me and not Ginny because she’s a girl and on the right side? Whereas I’m a bloke and a Death Eater and don’t deserve the attentions of the Savior?”

“No, Draco!” Hermione said frantically, as Draco slammed his chair back. He scooped his things into his bag, not caring if parchment was crinkled or inkpots were open. Hermione stood too, hurriedly stacking her papers and books. Draco stalked away, as Hermione called after him. “No, Draco, wait!”

Draco didn’t wait, he stomped through the library, passing the rest of the late-night studiers. He flung the door open, tightening his cloak as he made his way down the hall.

He was heading toward the Common Room when the exact type of curse he was so worried about caught him by surprise.

The haunting incantation of the Entrail Expelling Curse was the only warning he got as he was thrown roughly across the hall. He slammed into a stone wall, hitting his head so hard he saw stars. A line of blood began to soak through his shirt yet again as he struggled to rise up.

“Draco!” Hermione screamed as she ran up to him, dropping her book bag in the process. Loose parchment fluttered around them like blown leaves. She pulled a small, beaded bag from her robes as she fell to her knees next to him. “No, lay down, don’t try to sit up,” she said as she pushed him into a prone position.

Draco laid back, watching as Hermione pushed his shirt up. She quickly looped his guts back into his abdomen.

“Here, hold like this,” Hermione said as she placed his hands on the wounds. Draco wondered if he was in shock as he held the lips of the wound together.

“Hold pressure, just like that,” Hermione said encouragingly, as she dug through the beaded bag. “Accio Dittany!”

Draco felt the burn of the Dittany as his hold on consciousness was finally lost.

…

He woke up to shouting and blearily struggled to focus. The voices were familiar.

“Harry?” He rasped. The tousled mop in question flung aside the curtain surrounding his bed, barreling forward.

“Draco.” Harry breathed, stopping short. “How do you feel? Are you in any pain?”

“M’fine,” Draco mumbled.

“I gave him a very strong pain potion, he won’t be feeling any pain,” said Madam Pomfrey as she drew the curtain back the rest of the way, revealing the rest of the gang, and the Headmistress.

“Mr. Malfoy, did you see who cursed you?” McGonagall asked as Draco shook his foggy head. He smiled at Harry instead.

“You’re pretty,” he said happily. Harry stuttered a laugh. “What’s funny, love?” Draco wanted to know.

“Love?” Harry said, his eyes widening. He lifted a hand, obviously intent on touching Draco’s cheekbone but then froze and dropped his hand. Draco whined, he loved it when Harry caressed his jaw.

“Love?” Repeated the Headmistress, her eyes darting between the two.

Draco started to panic, he knew no one was supposed to know he was with Harry, but he couldn’t remember why. Oh, that’s right, he was on probation!

“I’m allowed!” He said frantically, looking at Harry for help. “Tell her Harry, tell her I’m allowed to love you!”

“It’s fine, Draco,” Harry said, finally rubbing a thumb along Draco’s cheek. Draco relaxed, leaning into that touch.

“See, Harry says I’m allowed,” Draco said smugly to McGonagall. Everyone knew that whatever the Chosen One said was law. He grinned at Harry, nuzzling into his wrist. He gazed up at Harry, once again lost in the emerald eyes of the Boy Who Lived. “Asphodel leaves.”

“What?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Asphodel leaves,” Draco said again as he kissed Harry’s palm.

Pansy cackled as she dove forward, wrapping him in a gentle hug. “I’m so happy you’re okay,” she said as she knocked Harry’s hand away.

“You smell nice,” Draco smiled, “like sunshine.” Harry drew up a chair next to him, obviously intending to stay a while.

“Don’t jostle him too much,” Madam Pomfrey said. “He might not be in any pain, but there’s still some internal damage left to heal. He’ll have to spend the night here.”

“Headmistress, I need to speak to you,” Hermione said, as she siphoned the blood off of her robes and hands. “I think you should be aware of how many hexes are cast at Draco from fellow students.”

“What?” Harry said as he looked up, his hand now holding Draco’s.

“Is this true, Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall barked.

Draco nodded, not sure why everyone was staring at him. “S’fine, have my necklace.”

“What does that mean?” Pansy asked, Luna smiling at Draco as she patted his shoulder gently.

“Will you plait my hair? Like you do Pansy’s?” Luna nodded and he beamed at her. Everyone was being so nice to him.

“He enchanted his necklace to repel jinxes and hexes, he told me earlier,” Hermione said.

“How have I never noticed you getting hexed?” Harry asked urgently.

“They don’t do it when you’re ‘round,” Draco slurred, raising Harry’s hand to his cheek, nodding back into it.

“Draco, you’re on your own at some point nearly every day!” Pansy exclaimed. Draco shrugged one shoulder.

“Mr. Malfoy, the safety of my students is my first priority. I will catch the person responsible for this, and there will be serious consequences for their actions.” Headmistress McGonagall said, before she strode out of the Hospital Wing.

“I’m going to get some clothes together for Draco, we’ll be back soon,” Pansy said as she and Luna left as well. Blaise and Hermione took their chairs, sitting opposite Harry.

“You can visit for another hour, but then this boy needs his rest,” Madam Pomfrey said, taking Draco’s vitals before walking back to her office. They sat quietly for a bit before the silence was broken.

“I’m so sorry, Draco,” Hermione said softly.

“Why are you sorry, ‘Mione? You saved his life,” Harry asked as he continued to rub his thumb along Draco’s cheekbone. Draco hummed in contentment.

“He was alone because we got into a fight in the library,” Hermione whispered hesitantly.

“What did you fight about?” Blaise asked quietly.

“I told him I’d hex him if he hurt you, Harry.” Draco frowned, he was trying to enjoy this soft warm feeling and Hermione was ruining it.

“Why would you do that? I can take care of myself,” Harry said sharply.

“That’s what Draco said,” Hermione said miserably. “Then he asked if I had ever threatened to hex Ginny and of course I hadn’t. So, he asked me if it’s because he’s a bloke and a former Death Eater that he got threatened when she didn’t.”

“It was mean,” Draco said as Harry started growling beside him.

“I know that now, Draco, and I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know why I said it and I really wish I could take it back.” Hermione said in a rush, as Harry continued to glower at her. They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

“I know you don’t like me, but I thought we were revision buddies,” Draco whined piteously.

“No, Draco, I do like you, I promise, I just said something stupid,” Hermione said quickly.

“Why does Draco think Hermione doesn’t like him?” Pansy asked from the doorway.

“Hermione threatened to hex him if he hurt me,” Harry said. Pansy didn’t even blink as she drew her wand and flicked a Stinging Hex at Hermione.

“Ouch!”

“You made a mistake then, Hermione. Never warn someone when you’re going to hex them,” Pansy said cheerfully as she and Luna walked up, dumping Draco’s things on a chair.

“We brought you some pajamas, Draco,” Luna said, “And I brought my bag if you still want me to braid your hair.” Draco nodded happily.

“Okay you lot, back up so I can help him change.” Harry said as he drew the curtains back around the bed.

“I can do it,” Draco said as he tried to unbutton his collar with his tie still on.

“Maybe I just want to get you naked,” Harry said with a smirk as he pulled Draco’s cloak off.

“We can still hear you!” Pansy called out. Harry threw up a hand and cast a wandless Silencing Charm.

“Seriously, Draco, how do you feel?” Harry asked softly as he undid Draco’s tie, tossing it on the foot of the bed.

“M’fine,” Draco mumbled as Harry pulled his bloody undershirt over his head. He looked down at his bare chest. “Fuck.”

An angry new scar was spread across his stomach, stretched from hip to hip. It was jagged and the width of his thumb. Draco sighed, as Harry leaned over and kissed it gently.

“Mmmm, love when you do that,” Draco moaned.

“Noted,” Harry smiled and undid Draco’s belt. “Lift up.”

Draco complied and soon enough Harry was dressing him in his softest pajamas. Once Draco was clothed, Harry rubbed his cheek again. Draco raised his face, closing his eyes expectantly. Harry kissed him gently, as Draco wound his hands in Harry’s untamable hair.

The curtain was flung open with a rustle.

“Told you they’d be snogging,” Pansy smirked. Draco gave her a dreamy smile, as Harry laughed. Hermione Vanished his ruined clothes, everyone taking their seats except Luna, who climbed into the bed behind him.

Luna scraped her nails along his scalp, parting his hair as she started plaiting. He tilted his head back as Harry took his hand again.

“Draco, how are you feeling?” Blaise asked after a few minutes.

“Like a Puffskein,” Draco mumbled, and Pansy giggled.

“What does that mean?” Blaise asked as Draco frowned, wasn’t it obvious?

“He means soft and fuzzy, right Draco?” Luna said from behind him as she tied off his plait with a green ribbon.

“Yeah,” Draco said with a nod.

Luna dug into her bag, pulling out a handful of flowers. She started tucking them into the braid. Draco had a vague feeling of not wanting her to put them in, but it seemed too much of a bother to open his mouth and say anything.

Luna got off of the bed when she was done, and instead of pulling up another chair, Harry sat in her place. He pulled Draco back onto his chest, and Draco hummed as he wriggled into that embrace. Harry tucked his chin onto Draco’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around him.

“I don’t think I’ve really seen the two of you touch,” Hermione said quietly, her eyes wide.

“Yeah, well, Draco was just cursed, so excuse me if I can’t keep my hands off of him,” Harry said from beside his ear.

“No, Harry, it’s nice.” Hermione said with a soft smile, reaching out and taking Blaise’s hand.

“Does anyone have tea?” Draco asked wistfully.

“No, lovey, none of us have tea,” Pansy said with another giggle. Draco pouted.

“But I’m thirsty,” Draco whinged as he trailed a hand along Harry’s thigh.

“Sorry, Draco,” Harry said in his ear.

“You’re all useless,” Hermione said as she conjured a cup and filled it with a quick Aguamenti!

“Thanks,” Draco said as she passed it to him. He took a sip and then promptly dropped the cup, drenching his lap.

“Are you alright, Draco?” Blaise asked again as Harry took his cup and set it on the bedside table, before casting a Drying Charm.

“He bloody well isn’t, Blaise, he almost just died and he’s high as a kite,” Harry said.

“M’not flying,” Draco said, frowning. “M’floating.”

Everyone laughed at that.

“What the bloody hell does he mean by that?” Blaise asked aloud.

“I think he means he’s not flying like a kite, the bird of prey?” Pansy said with a quirked brow. “Is that another muggle expression, Harry?”

“Yeah, there’s a muggle children’s toy called a kite, it’s really lightweight and attached to a string. Children let them float on the wind. I’m not sure if the expression is about them or the bird of prey, but high as a kite is used when someone is on mind-altering drugs. Like Draco on this pain potion.”

“You’re right, he is high as a kite,” Pansy said with a crafty look in her eye. “I bet he’d answer anything we asked him. Draco, what’s your favorite thing Harry does in the bedroom?”

“He keeps away the nightmares,” Draco said happily. “An’ snuggles. An’ I like it when he sucks-Mmmmfh,” Draco was cut off as Harry clapped a hand to his mouth.

“He’s so going to hex you tomorrow, Pans.” Blaise said with a laugh, as Draco kissed the palm covering his lips.

“Worth it, for the blackmail material,” Pansy shrugged. Harry dropped his hand, running it along Draco’s chest.

“Luna, what’s your favorite thing Pansy does in the bedroom?” Harry asked. Luna opened her mouth to answer as Pansy dove on top of her, frantically shushing her.

“Ew, don’ wanna see that,” Draco mumbled, as Harry’s chest rumbled with laughter behind him.

“Well, Hermione, Blaise, either of you care to share with the class?” Pansy asked from the ground as Luna giggled.

Blaise shook his head as Hermione looked thoughtful. “Let’s just say Blaise is very attentive,” she said with a smile as Blaise choked beside her.

“Ergh, gross, ‘Mione, I don’t need to know anything about your sex life!” Draco felt Harry say against his back, as Harry tucked his face between Draco’s shoulder blades.

“Is that a euphemism for something?” Pansy asked swiftly. “Is it a muggle expression, Harry? Does it mean that Blaise goes down on her a lot?” Looking at both dark skinned students managing to blush Pansy exclaimed, “It totally does! Wow, Hermione, good for you.”

Blaise got out his wand and fired a Stinging Hex at Pansy, who shielded it, and it ricocheted off and hit Draco.

“Ow!” Draco yelped as the hex hit his thigh. “What’d I do?”

“Expelliarmus!” Harry said with a growl, roughly grabbing the two wands as they soared toward him. “You’ll get these back when you’ve proved you’re mature enough to visit a friend in the Hospital Wing without flinging hexes around.”

“Sorry, Draco,” Pansy and Blaise mumbled at the same time.

“M’I in trouble?” Draco whinged again, rubbing his leg.

“No, darling, you absolutely aren’t, Pansy and Blaise are though.” Harry said in his ear. Draco frowned at his friends. If Harry said they were in trouble, that was enough for him.

“Alright you lot, time’s up,” Madam Pomfrey said as she came bustling over. If the sight of two blokes in bed together surprised her, she didn’t show it as she flapped her hands at the group of them.

“Please, Madam Pomfrey, can’t I stay?” Harry asked quietly.

“Visiting hours are over, you can come back tomorrow during lunch or after classes.”

“We love you, Draco, and we’re all happy you’re going to be okay,” Luna said as she placed a hand on his.

Draco smiled at his friends, snuggling back into the warmth of his recently vacated bed. The five of them left the Hospital Wing as Draco suddenly fought to keep his eyes open.

“Here’s a sleeping potion, if you need it,” Madam Pomfrey said as she placed a small bottle on his bedside table. Draco grinned at her.

“Thank you, Madam Pompadour,” Draco said.

…

Draco woke up early with his cheek pressed against a warm chest. Harry. He ran his hand along Harry’s arm, attempting to gently wake him.

He opened his eyes to see that Harry was already awake, and then realized where they were.

“Why are we in the Hospital Wing? Are you okay?” Draco asked quickly.

“I’m fine, you were cursed last night. I snuck back in to keep you company, but you were already asleep.” Harry said softly. Suddenly Draco remembered being tossed across the halls outside the library and Hermione frantically putting his intestines back in his body.

“What happened after I was cursed?” Draco asked softly, handing Harry his glasses and wand.

“Hermione levitated you here and Madam Pomfrey took over. She said you’ll be fine.” Harry said as he pointed his wand at his own mouth and then Draco’s. Draco preferred the minty flavor of Harry’s Mouth-Freshening Charm to his own apple one. Plus, the power of the Savior had the added benefit of making Draco’s teeth actually feel clean afterward.

“Thank you,” Draco said quietly.

“Do you remember anything after you were brought to the Hospital wing?” Harry asked, as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up on a hand.

“No, not really,” Draco said. “Did you play with my hair?” Draco felt along his head, finding a plait and crushed flowers.

“No, you asked Luna to plait your hair like Pansy’s.” Harry huffed a chuckle.

“And you let me?” Draco asked, scandalized.

“Trust me, Draco, that was not the most embarrassing thing you did,” Harry said.

“Do I even want to know?” Draco groaned.

“You’ll kill me if I don’t tell you,” Harry said. “You might have told me you love me in front of Headmistress McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey.”

“No.”

“You called me love, and then made me tell McGonagall that you were allowed to love me,” Harry said in his impossibly soft voice.

“Oh, Merlin,” Draco said miserably, burying his face in his hands.

“No, Draco, it’s alright,” Harry said tugging on Draco’s elbow.

“No, it’s really not, what if she owls my mother?”

“She won’t, I’ll even talk to her if you want.” Harry said from above him.

“Oh, sweet Salazar, I’m such a fucking idiot,” Draco groaned again.

“I love you too,” Harry whispered. Draco froze. Harry managed to drag his hands away from his face as he stared up at the Boy Who Lived.

“What?” Draco whispered.

“I love you, Draco,” Harry said, his eyes searing through Draco.

Draco took a moment to process that. Harry Potter, the hero of the Wizarding World, loved him. His chest filled with an unbridled joy so intense he struggled to breathe. So, he decided not to.

He grabbed the back of Harry’s neck and pulled him down into an enthusiastic snog.

An eternity later, Harry drew back up, smiling widely.

“Will you say it properly?” Harry asked wistfully, as he ran a thumb along Draco’s jaw.

“I love you, Harry,” Draco whispered. Harry’s smile could have blinded the sun.

“I love you too, Draco,” Harry said softly. They laid there for a moment, staring at each other, Harry still gently caressing Draco’s face.

“I believe I only had one patient in that bed last night, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said as she bustled into the room.

“Wasn’t I in bed with him then too?” Harry said cheekily.

“Don’t make me be the first person to take points from the eighth years,” Madam Pomfrey said as she waved a wand at them. Goosebumps erupted on Draco’s arms as he felt a spell wash over him. “Your vitals look good, Mr. Malfoy. Now if your boyfriend would kindly leave the bed, I can do your physical.”

Draco blushed deeply as Harry chuckled and swung his legs over the side of the narrow hospital cot. Harry sat on the nearest chair and took Draco’s hand as Madam Pomfrey had him sit up. She had him lift his shirt and he saw the new ragged scar spanning his abdomen. She ran her wand along its length, muttering spells as Draco shivered.

“It seems fully healed,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Oh, and the Headmistress asked me to tell you, you are excused from your probationary commitments for the next two weeks as your magical core recovers from helping your body heal."

“So, I can leave?” Draco asked, not wanting to miss classes.

“Once you’ve had a bowel movement, yes.”

“I beg your pardon?” Draco demanded as Harry laughed.

“You need to poop, Mr. Malfoy, so I know those intestines are working properly before I discharge you,” Madam Pomfrey said clearly as Draco felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“Dear Merlin, you aren’t joking,” Draco said wretchedly, as Harry rubbed a thumb along the back of his hand.

“No, I’m not. I’ll bring you some breakfast and coffee to try and get things moving.” She left them as Draco tried to keep his blush from staining his cheeks. He could tell he was failing by how hot his neck felt.

“Don’t say a word.” He warned Harry.

“I wasn’t going to,” Harry responded.

One mortifying hour later, Draco was discharged from the hospital wing and on his way to the Common Room with Harry. They encountered no one, their footsteps echoing in the halls.

“Forgiveness,” Harry said as they reached their portrait.

“Cherish him, he may not always be yours,” Saudade said in a deep voice as he regally waved a hand at Harry. They both froze.

“Saudade, what do you mean?” Draco asked quietly.

“My love left me, for I was lacking and neglectful. It was only after he left that I realized what joy and love he had brought my life. Forgive each other the small things, and never take the other for granted.” Saudade said gravely as fresh tears wound down his cheeks.

“I will,” Harry said softly, rubbing Draco’s back as Saudade skidded to the side with an approving nod.

Draco stepped into a deserted Common Room and felt Harry following him to the dorms. He reached his room and slid open the door. As soon as he did, Harry pushed him into his room. He turned around as Harry kicked the door shut.

“What are you-” his words were cut off as Harry pulled his face down for an intense snog. He felt himself being backed up until the back of his thighs hit his bed. Harry pushed him onto it and then scrambled onto his lap.

“Tonight, I want you to shag me,” Harry whispered in his ear, before he felt his earlobe being pulled into Harry’s mouth. Harry bit, harshly, and Draco moaned.

“It’s a weeknight,” Draco said inanely as he felt himself growing hard. What did it matter what day it was when Harry Bloody Potter was asking him for a shag? Briefly he wondered how uncomfortable it would be to have Harry’s thick prick in him, but then Harry’s words set in. “Wait, you want me to shag you?”

“Nnghn, yes,” Harry said desperately as he ground his erection against Draco’s. “I love you and you almost died, and I really, really want you inside me.”

Draco felt his orgasm approach at breakneck speed as he considered Harry’s words. He’d be the first to thrust into Harry, the first to see him that vulnerable. Harry was confident and assured in bed, always knowing exactly how to make sure they both enjoyed themselves, so Draco had assumed that the role of bottoming the first time would fall to him.

“Fuck, Harry, yes,” Draco groaned, “whatever you want, just don’t stop.” He grabbed Harry’s hips, moving Harry against his cock.

Harry stilled above him, and he whined. “Seriously, Draco, only if you want to.” Harry said as he leaned back and looked into Draco’s eyes.

“Are you insane, Potter? Of course I want to shag you. I’ve wanted to shag you for ages.” Draco said as he tugged on Harry’s hips again. Harry gave a stuttering laugh and leaned back in for a sloppy kiss.

Draco drifted a hand between them, undoing the button on his pajama bottoms to pull out his aching prick. Quickly he repeated the process with Harry. He wrapped his fist around the both of them, pumping slowly.

“Harry, do the charm,” Draco panted. Harry responded by casting a wandless Lubrication Charm, pulling Draco’s shirt off in the process. Harry latched onto Draco’s collarbone, moaning in need. As soon as his grip turned slippery, Draco increased the speed of his pumps.

He bit Harry’s throat, sucking harshly. Harry moaned again as Draco felt his orgasm approach.

“Close, Harry, I’m close,” Draco groaned as he tightened his grasp.

“Me too,” Harry moaned into his neck. Harry pulled him back in for another kiss and Draco felt Harry’s tongue touch his own.

Draco shuddered, his orgasm ripping through him. His come coated his hand and chest as Harry started shivering above him too. He coaxed them both through it, tugging on them both until Harry lowered a hand to stop him.

“Sensitive,” Harry mumbled.

“Mmm, that was nice,” Draco said into Harry’s neck.

“It was,” Harry responded, as he leaned back and made Draco lift his head. “Are you sure, about tonight?”

“Merlin, yes, Harry, I’ve never been so sure. I just,” Draco hesitated.

“What is it?” Harry asked with a thumb to Draco’s cheekbone.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing, and I don’t want to hurt you,” Draco forced out in a rush.

“Would it help if I lent you a book about it?” Harry asked.

“You have a book? How did you get that?”

“Hermione,” Harry said simply.

“Er, yeah, I’d like that,” Draco whispered.

Chapter Text

Harry left his room fully dressed for classes and with the Young Wizard’s Guide to Gay Sex tucked under an arm. The volume had included a charm to disguise it an innocent appearing book about protective charms. He looked both ways before he knocked on Draco’s door, knowing Draco wouldn’t be ready yet. Draco really could fuss about his appearance sometimes, Harry mused fondly, as the door creaked open. He darted inside quickly, shoving the door shut with his heel.

Draco was finishing drying his hair with his wand, the platinum strands falling just past his shoulders. Secretly, Harry loved Draco with longer, loose hair. He came up behind his fit boyfriend, sliding his hands into Draco’s robes. He kissed along Draco’s neck, nibbling softly.

“Harry, I’m trying to get ready in time for class, you can’t distract me.” Draco said with a shudder.

“What if we skive off?” Harry whispered into the pink shell of Draco’s ear.

“I can’t, Hermione and I have a project to turn in in Arithmancy.” The blond said as he pushed Harry away with an elbow.

Harry laughed and tucked the book he had brought into Draco’s book bag. “Just know that the charm only disguises the cover of the book, not the pages. Be careful if you’re going to read it where anyone can see. I put a bookmark in the relevant chapter.”

Draco smiled nervously at him. “Thanks, Harry.”

“It’s no problem, you can keep it as long as you want,” Harry said with a smile.

“Memorized it, have you?” Draco asked with a leer as Harry felt his cheeks heat.

“I haven’t heard any complaints from you,” Harry said with an embarrassed smirk. Kai gave a happy hiss from his shoulder.

Twenty minutes later found them in front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, book bags slung across shoulders.

“Hey gang,” Harry said as the rest of their group walked up from the Great Hall.

“How are you, Draco?” Pansy demanded, as Luna giggled.

“I’m fine, good as new, really,” Draco said.

“So, your favorite thing in the bedroom is when what of yours gets sucked?” Pansy asked as Harry saw Draco freeze. Draco turned panicked eyes on him.

“I didn’t let you finish that sentence,” Harry whispered, almost unsure what Draco would have said, what with him thoroughly enjoying Harry’s attentions to his earlobe and scars.

“Pansy, you cow,” Draco said as he tossed a Stinging Hex at her. She yelped as it struck home.

“I told you he’d hex you,” Blaise said.

“Draco, are you really okay?” Hermione asked tentatively. Draco considered her, the tension in the group multiplying by the second as everyone waited with bated breath.

“No,” Draco finally said as he turned his back on her. Harry saw Draco fingering his necklace, and he gave Hermione a sympathetic glance.

“Can I feed from the pale one? His anger is deep and delectable.” Kai said sibilantly.

“Sure,” Harry hissed back as he placed Kai in Draco’s shoulder. Absently, Draco began stroking Kai instead of his necklace.

“Oh, Harry, this came for you with the morning post. It’s from the Dursley’s,” Hermione said as his stomach dropped.

Time seemed to slow down as Hermione held out a muggle letter. Harry genuinely considered just casting an Incendio but finally deciding, in the span of an instant, to just take the damn letter. He reached out a hand and plucked it from Hermione’s grasp.

Everyone kept talking above him as he ducked his head, contemplating the envelope in his bronzed grasp. He ran a finger along the fold as he read the front of the envelope.

Harry Potter

Hogwarts

The sender’s address said:

Dudley Dursley

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

The writing was familiar, blocky, and ungraceful. Harry felt his stomach tighten to the point he was thankful he hadn’t had a chance to eat breakfast.

“Harry?” Luna asked quietly, as Harry felt every eye turn onto him.

Harry didn’t raise his head. He simply turned and walked away. He couldn’t deal with reality when he had this letter burning his hand.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Draco said from behind him as Harry sped up. “Harry, stop!”

Harry didn’t even bother answering as he flung himself into an unused classroom. He strode behind the desk and slumped to the floor. He tugged his knees up under his chin. He had a complicated relationship with small dark places. Sometimes he couldn’t bear the thought of them, and others he craved the sense of safety they could provide.

“You know, I’m not going anywhere,” Draco said as he came in behind Harry, flinging up a few privacy spells. Draco fell to his knees beside him. Draco reached out a shaking hand and Harry flinched. Draco dropped his hand.

“Please, can’t you leave it, just this once?” Harry pleaded.

“No, darling, I really can’t,” Draco said quietly, settling himself.

Harry stared up at the grain of the desk he was tucked under. Draco wasn’t going to go away, and neither was the letter. He took a shallow breath.

“The letter is from my cousin,” Harry whispered.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Now you know he survived the war. I know the Dark Lord was specifically trying to find the Dursley’s.” Draco said gently.

“You don’t understand.”

“So, tell me.”

“I really hate talking about it,” Harry whispered.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Draco swore, “and we never have to talk about it again.”

“Not even Hermione knows,” Harry said torturously. “I mean, she might have figured it out, but we’ve never talked about it.”

“I know how to keep a secret. I’ll swear an Unbreakable Vow if you want.” Draco offered as Harry shook his head.

“Will you maybe just hold my hand while I read the letter? Then I’ll explain?” Harry asked, needing some time. Draco grabbed his left hand as Harry split the envelope awkwardly with his right. He unfolded the paper.

Dear Harry,

We’re back at home, somehow the Order made sure we kept our house. They were really nice to us even when Mum and Dad weren’t the nicest about you. They even made sure Dad got his old job back so life is pretty much back to normal. The biggest change is that I’m a year behind in Uni, I don’t know how I’m going to catch up.

I’d like to know how you’re doing, the Order told us you’d won the war? That must be a pretty cool feeling, knowing you saved everyone.

I’m really sorry, about everything. I was a prat and my parents were horrid.

-Dudley

P.S. If you do decide to drop us a line, send it to Mrs. Figg. My folks don’t know I sent this, and she was the only person I knew who would be able to get this to you.

Harry sat for a while, staring at the letter as Draco rubbed a thumb along his knuckles. He felt empty, like an aching husk of a person.

“Has the pale one upset you? Should I bite him?” Kai hissed.

“No, he’s helping. It’s something else.”

“Fuck,” he said finally.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Draco asked him softly.

“Not really, but I probably won’t ever be, so let’s just get it over with.”

“What was in the letter?” Draco asked.

“Here, you can read it,” Harry said, sliding it over. Draco scanned it quickly.

“What does he mean, his parents were horrid to you?” Trust Draco to get to the heart of the matter right away.

“They hate magic, hate me too, come to that. It wasn’t the best house to grow up in,” Harry said quietly, staring back at that same whorl on the underside of the desk.

“They hate you?”

“Well, you don’t keep a child locked in a cupboard if you like him,” Harry said blankly.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco whispered. Something in that soft, loving tone, reached into Harry’s chest and took every last drop of his resistance away.

Harry quickly found himself babbling, the dam keeping his silence broken. Soon he was telling Draco every deep dark secret he had never let himself say aloud before. How he hadn’t had a bed until his Hogwarts letter came, how his cousin had routinely beat him up with the help of his gang. He spoke of his uncle and his dangerous temper, and how he would explode in rage if Harry burned his meal or made too much noise. How his aunt would aim heavy blows at him with whatever was in hand, though she didn’t connect nearly as often as Vernon. He told Draco that the first time he had new clothes was his Hogwarts uniform. How he had never gotten a real present until that same Christmas. He even told Draco about the food deprivation and the cat flap on the door to his room.

Draco sat silently, letting him get it all out. Harry took a deep shuddering breath, roughly wiping his face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall to pieces like that,” Harry said in a shaky voice. Draco tugged on the hand he was still holding.

“Don’t you dare apologize. I’m your boyfriend, I want to be here when you fall to pieces.” Draco frowned as Harry huffed a laugh. “You know what I mean, I want to be here for you.”

“I know, Draco, it’s fine,” Harry chuckled weakly.

“Can I see the envelope?” Draco asked suddenly.

“Why?” Harry asked as his fingers searched his dark cubby.

“I want to know where they live so I can kill them,” Draco said with a growl.

“Draco, you can’t kill them, they’d send you to Azkaban and how can you shag me from there?”

“Fine, seriously injure and maim then,” Draco said reasonably. Harry laughed in earnest.

“C’mon, we missed Defense, and it’s almost time for lunch.”

“Fuck, Harry, I can’t miss class, I’m on parole!” Draco said in a panic as he got to his feet. “The ministry is looking for any reason to chuck me back into Azkaban!”

“I have a free period after lunch, I’ll talk to Gwilt. And I was going to talk to the Headmistress anyway, I’ll tell her it was my fault you missed class,” Harry said, as he crawled out from under the desk. “Wait, is that why you didn’t want to skive off earlier?”

“Of course it is! You think class is more appealing to me than a morning in bed with you? You must be completely mental.” Draco stuttered a laugh.

Harry pounced, he grabbed the back of Draco’s neck and shuffled him up against a wall. He kissed a line up Draco’s throat.

“Thank you, for being here when I needed it. I’ll make sure you don’t get into trouble,” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear. He bit the lobe, flicking it with his tongue.

“Harry, stop,” Draco groaned, “I can’t miss Arithmancy too.”

Regretfully, Harry released his gorgeous boyfriend. “Fine, but tonight you’re all mine.”

Ten minutes later they were sitting at the eighth year table, at the Slytherin end, waiting for the rest of the group to get back from class.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Draco whispered.

“Not really, I don’t want to tell anyone else what we talked about, and I know Hermione will ask.” Harry saw Draco’s face tighten. “You probably don’t remember, but she did apologize to you last night. Profusely. She blames herself for you getting cursed.”

“She did?” Draco asked intently.

“She did, she feels awful. And she saved your life. I may not want to talk to her about what I told you, but she is a fiercely loyal friend.” Harry said quietly, as students began streaming into the room.

“Fine, but only for you,” Draco muttered. Harry beamed at him.

“Thanks, Draco, I appreciate it.”

“You had better, Potter,” Draco said with a fake sneer.

“I’ll show you how much, later,” Harry whispered before giggling helplessly at Draco’s brow waggle.

“Alright there, Harry?” Hermione asked as she sat opposite him.

“Yeah, ‘Mione,” Harry said with a small smile. Food appeared on the platters and Harry snagged a sandwich.

Luna sat next to Draco, with Pansy next to her. Dean and Seamus sat opposite them, joining the group as they sometimes did. Everyone piled their plates high.

“Why did you skive off, Harry?” Seamus asked. “And why with Malfoy?”

“Harry got a letter from his cousin, letting him know if his aunt and uncle survived the war or not,” Draco said softly, as everyone on the table went quiet. “I offered to read it first.”

“Well?” Seamus asked breathlessly, as Harry dropped his gaze to his plate.

“They didn’t, so let’s leave it,” Draco said gently. Harry felt impossibly grateful and squeezed Draco’s thigh under the table.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry,” Hermione said as she reached a hand across the table.

“I really don’t want to talk about it, ‘Mione, can we just change the subject?” Harry pleaded.

“Of course,” Hermione said softly.

“Alright, tell us more about this Moon Frog then,” Seamus said after an awkward moment.

“Moon Frog?” Draco asked curiously as Pansy cackled.

“Word is Harry came up with a nickname for his secret bloke to keep his name quiet. Moon Frog.” Dean said with a smirk. Harry panicked slightly; he didn’t think Pansy had actually told Draco the nickname yet.

“I wonder why he chose that name,” Seamus said. “Who in Hufflepuff reminds you of a Moon Frog, Harry?”

“Yes, Harry, why Moon Frog?” Draco asked as Pansy hooted again. “Oh, never mind, I figured it out.”

“Wait, Malfoy knows who Moon Frog is, but you won’t tell us?” Dean gave Harry an injured look.

“No, I just figured out that Pansy came up with the name because of her cackling,” Draco said quickly. Harry rubbed his hand along Draco’s thigh again.

“So, Pansy knows,” Seamus said craftily. “C’mon, Pansy, one hint?”

“I know nothing, Luna suggested the name, Merlin knows why,” Pansy said with a smirk.

“Luna, why Moon Frog?” Dean asked.

“Because he’s rare and beautiful,” Luna said in her dreamy way. Harry could feel Draco preening at that and smiled to himself.

“Accurate,” Harry said with a soft smile.

“So, you’re still seeing your mystery bloke then?” Seamus asked swiftly.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry replied.

“Damn,” Dean said. “We were secretly hoping it had fizzled out by now. Maybe then you would have taken us up on our offer. Just remember, no strings and we’d be discreet, Moon Frog need never know.”

Harry felt Draco tense, “I’ve told you before, I’m not looking for anything casual. I love my Moon Frog and I’m not going to risk that for some stupid whatever-it-is you two want.”

Pansy choked on her juice, spraying it everywhere. “Can you please say you love your Moon Frog again?” she asked with watery eyes.

“You love him?” Seamus asked with wide eyes.

“Well, yeah, I’m allowed,” Harry said with a cheeky smile. Draco smirked next to him as Pansy and Blaise laughed. Hermione beamed.

“Well that puts our plan quits,” Dean said simply. “Let’s try for someone else, love.” He and Seamus started quietly whispering to each other.

Finally, Harry bit into his sandwich. As soon as he started chewing, his appetite woke up. He dug in enthusiastically. He finished at lightning speed and pulled the platter toward himself. He grabbed another sandwich, and some crisps. He caught Draco’s eye as he took a huge bite and winked.

“You’d think your Moon Frog would teach you some table manners,” Blaise said with a smirk. “You eat like a heathen.”

Harry felt his shoulders tense as he finished his mouthful, his appetite abruptly deserting him. He took a few slow bites to avoid suspicion, the food tasting like ash in his mouth. He kept his eyes on his plate as he put his sandwich down.

“Can I bite the one with no nest? He has reminded you of your emptiness from before and I cannot eat another morsel.”

“No, he didn’t mean to. Why do you wish to bite everyone today?” Harry asked, wondering if he had been exposing her to too much anger lately.

“I require no other reason to wish to bite, when the one with no nest upsets my Breakfast,” Kai spat as she raised herself up and flattened her neck threateningly.

“Harry, what is Kai doing? I’ve never seen her do that,” Draco whispered.

“She wants to bite Blaise for upsetting me,” Harry whispered back, as Kai spat again. She started trying to slither down his arm and he caught her quickly.

Draco looked at him for a moment and then hit Blaise with a Stinging Hex under the table.

“What did I do?” Blaise yelped as he looked around for the caster of the jinx.

Harry stuttered a laugh, as he tried to contain an irritated serpent.

“I’m just going to put her back in my room, before she manages it,” Harry said softly.

“Okay, I’m off to class. You’re sure you’re going to talk to the professors?” Draco asked quietly.

“Yes, Draco, I promise, I’m going just as soon as Kai is in her tank,” Harry assured him.

“Thank you,” Draco said, his grey eyes arresting.

Harry merely nodded, already thinking about the incredibly awkward conversations he was going to have to have without Kai there to temper his embarrassment.

Half an hour later, Harry was knocking on Professor Gwilt’s office door.

“Come on in,” came the easy gruff voice of the retired Auror. Harry opened the door to find mountains of parchment coating the tables and walls.

“Mr. Potter, I was wondering if you’d be dropping by,” Gwilt said.

“Er, yes, Professor, I just wanted to apologize for me and Draco missing your class. You see, I had a very upsetting note from family and Draco was kind enough to read it to me.”

“It’s fine,” Gwilt said with a wave of the hand. “We’re just starting Patronus’s, but I know you have that in the bag. Mr. Malfoy could use the practice, but I’m sure he’ll be able to count on you for a bit of help. Maybe along with some of the other struggling students?”

“Of course, Professor,” Harry said with a relieved smile.

“There we are then. I’ll be counting on your help in class from now on. So, no more skiving, got it?” Gwilt said.

“No more skiving,” Harry agreed with a relieved smile.

Twenty minutes later, Harry was in front of the gargoyle guarding the Headmistress’s office.

“Password?” It asked in its gravelly voice.

“I don’t have one,” Harry said.

“No password, no entrance,” the gargoyle said roughly.

“Can you please just let the Headmistress know that Harry Potter is here to see her?” Harry asked as the gargoyle froze.

“She will see you,” the gargoyle said as it stepped aside a moment later.

Harry went up the stone steps quickly, climbing even as the staircase rose. He reached the door to her office and gave a polite knock.

“Enter,” McGonagall said.

Nervously, Harry stepped into her office. She was sitting behind her desk, quill in hand.

“Headmistress,” Harry said as he walked forward.

“Mr. Potter, please, sit.” McGonagall said as she gestured at one of the chairs with her quill.

Harry sat with his hands folded in his lap, a habit he had picked up from Draco.

“What can I help you with?” McGonagall finally said as Harry gave no indication he was going to start talking.

“Er, it’s a bit delicate,” Harry mumbled, staring at his knees.

“If it has to do with what I witnessed between you and Mr. Malfoy last night, rest assured that you are not the first couple I have known that share your preferences,” McGonagall said gently. Harry darted a glance at her face. She was smiling softly at him. “Why, Albus himself-”

“Dumbledore was gay?” Harry blurted, blindsided. He glanced up at Dumbledore’s frame, but it was empty.

“He never said a word to me, but yes, he was.”

“Then how do you know?” Harry asked desperately.

“That is unimportant, sufficient to say I know,” McGonagall said.

“Right, well, you see, the problem is,” Harry trailed off.

“Out with it, Mr. Potter, I have an entire castle to run.”

“Draco’s worried you’re going to tell his mum,” Harry said in a rush. McGonagall blinked.

“Who Mr. Malfoy chooses to spend his free time with is entirely his business unless it puts himself or others in danger.”

Harry felt a rush of relief at those words. He was half convinced Draco would break up with him if his mother found out.

“Is that all?”

“Er, not entirely. This morning I got a letter that upset me, and I accidentally made Draco skive off when he was calming me down.”

“What was this letter about, that could make you not notice an entire class period passing?”

“I got a letter from my cousin, letting me know if my aunt and uncle had survived the war,” Harry said, borrowing Draco’s summary.

“Say no more, Harry, I can easily imagine how upsetting that was for you, they were awful people.” McGonagall said, using his first name possibly the first time ever. “Many times, I tried to intervene, but each was denied by Albus. It was our greatest disagreement.”

“You knew?” Harry whispered.

“I did, and I am more sorry than I could ever say,” McGonagall looked away, as if in shame.

“Dumbledore knew?” Harry’s voice rose.

“He did.” The Headmistress said softly. Harry sat fuming for a moment.

“So, is Draco going to get in trouble for skiving while I processed news about my abusive relatives?” Harry bit out sharply, as McGonagall flinched.

“No, I have only sent one note to the Ministry about Mr. Malfoy, and that was the fact that he had been cursed.”

“Right well, I’m off to take him from Arithmancy now, so I can process a bit more,” Harry snapped. “Unless you have a problem with that?”

“Wait a moment,” McGonagall said as she scribbled on a spare piece of parchment. “Give this to Professor Vector. It gives my permission for Mr. Malfoy to leave class.”

Harry practically snatched the small note from her hand and stomped to the door.

Bloody hell. Bloody fucking hell.

He shook with rage as he stalked toward the seventh floor. He reached the Arithmancy classroom quickly. He didn’t bother knocking, he pushed the door open to a class containing only six students. Harry barely spared them a glance as he rushed to the front of the class. He slapped the note down in front of a stunned Professor Vector before turning and walking back through the desks. When he got to Draco, sat next to Hermione, he didn’t hesitate. He rapped Draco’s desk once with a passing knuckle and then marched from the room.

When he got back to the hall he began pacing, waiting for Draco to leave class.

He heard the door open and shut behind him and he turned quickly. He saw Draco, looking at him curiously, and felt a small measure of peace come over him.

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Draco asked urgently.

“Not here,” Harry said, turning toward the closest unused classroom he knew of, at the other end of the hall.

He kicked open the door and kept pacing as Draco shut it and cast privacy spells for the second time that morning.

“She bloody knew,” Harry ground out as he felt Draco watching him.

“Who knew what?” Draco asked in confusion.

“McGonagall, she knew about the Dursley’s,” Harry said forcefully as he stomped back and forth.

“Oh.” Draco said softly.

“Yeah, oh,” Harry grunted, his mind whirling in all different directions. He worried a track into the stone floor as his feet tromped a narrow path.

“Talk to me Harry, don’t just bottle it up,” Draco murmured after a few minutes.

“She and Dumbledore bloody knew!” Harry exclaimed. “What am I supposed to do with that? They left me there, a baby, to get beaten and starved!” Harry found his voice rising. Draco merely watched him, letting him get it all out.

“Who the fuck does that to a kid? Not just the Dursleys, but McGonagall and Dumbledore! Aren’t they supposed to be caring for children? How did they sleep at night while I was locked in a cupboard?!” Harry shouted.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Draco said softly.

“They could have stopped it, they could have saved me,” Harry said bitterly as he came to stop, leaning against the desk, side by side to Draco. “Instead they just left me there.”

Harry felt Draco reach out and take his hand and he squeezed the pale knuckles in gratitude.

“I’m sorry I made you miss another class today,” Harry finally said as the rest of his anger ebbed away.

“It’s fine, Vector told me I was excused. I assume you made McGonagall do that?” Draco said.

“Er, I may have shouted at her a bit,” Harry mumbled.

“Harry, what exactly did you say to her?” Draco said worriedly.

“It’s a bit of a blur, to be honest. I do remember she said she wasn’t going to tell your mum. Or the ministry.” He assured Draco.

“Thank Merlin.” Draco said fervently.

“I’m sorry, that this is so hard on you,” Harry said gently, as he turned to face Draco, reaching out with his free hand to rub Draco’s face.

“No, Harry, don’t apologize,” Draco whispered. “This, us, it’s the easiest, best part of my life. It’s everything else that’s difficult.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, gazing into the deep silver wells of Draco’s eyes, as he caressed a cheekbone.

“I am,” Draco murmured as he leaned forward. Harry closed the small distance between them, pulling Draco’s face down toward his own, tilting slightly.

Harry placed a small, appreciative kiss on Draco’s cheek. Slowly, he trailed his lips along Draco’s jaw, finally reaching the sweet flavor of Draco’s lips. As always, Draco tasted of citrus and apples. It had easily become Harry’s favorite taste within moments of their first snog.

Draco hummed, ever so quietly, and Harry felt his restraint slipping. He pulled Draco flush along him, slotting his thigh between Draco’s. He ground forward ever so slightly, quickly growing hard in his trousers. He tugged Draco against him, feeling Draco’s answering erection rub against his hipbone.

“You know, the Common Room is probably empty right now,” he mumbled in Draco’s ear. “I bet we could sneak into your room without even having to get my Cloak.”

“Nnngh, Harry, I haven’t even opened the book,” Draco said with a whinge.

“What if I just told you what to do?” Harry muttered as a fresh wave of desire crashed over him at the thought of Draco taking orders from him. Apparently, the thought was exciting to Draco too, as Harry felt Draco grind harder, moaning quietly.

“Are you sure? This isn’t some unhealthy outlet for the rough day you’ve had?” Draco asked desperately.

Harry laughed a bit stiffly at that, as he drew back slightly to make eye contact. “Draco, we survived a bloody war. Hermione says it’s going to take longer than a few months to properly heal from that alone. You and I, we were in it our whole lives, not just the past few years like everyone else. How many times have either of us almost died? Just last night you were cursed! But somehow, we survived, and we’ve been amazingly responsible since we started this up,” Harry said quietly as he leaned forward to mouth at Draco’s ear. “I think we’ve both been remarkably healthy for having waited so long.”

Draco shuddered, his head dropping back, exposing the long pale expanse of his neck. “Mmmm, fine, but you have to promise to tell me if I’m hurting you.”

Harry nibbled his way down that milky skin, whispering as he went. “Of course, love, lets go back to your room.” He pulled his lips away from Draco’s collarbone reluctantly.

They left the classroom after a few minutes of concentrated distance, attempting to contain their erections. Harry smirked to himself when he saw how hard Draco was struggling. He considered whispering something to make the ‘problem’ arise again, but decided against it, not wanting to harm his chances of getting shagged.

They sped through the halls; Harry breathless in excitement. He was finally, finally going to feel Draco in a way no one else ever had. He vaguely wondered if it would hurt but quickly shook the worry. Draco was going to follow his lead and he knew, textbook-wise, exactly how to make it feel good for himself.

Quickly they reached Saudade. He didn’t even require a password from them, he merely gave them a formal nod, which Draco returned, and Harry hastened to mimic. Saudade slid aside, watching Harry closely.

Harry had been right. The Common Room was almost deserted. Harry and Draco paused for a moment, before they separately went toward the men’s dormitories.

Harry darted into his own room for a moment. He wanted to check on Kai and grab a few things.

Kai was sleeping deeply, burrowed into the sandy bottom of her tank, instead of laying coiled on her rock. He had never seen her bury herself before but figured she’d had a rough day and could do whatever she wanted to make herself happy.

He went to his bedside table and tucked the little bottle into his pajama pocket, before pointing his wand at his abdomen. He knew he could cast the charm wandlessly but didn’t fully trust himself when he was this excited. The still unfamiliar emptiness echoed through him as he quickly grabbed his Cloak. He hadn’t cast the spell since the first night when he realized Draco was as content as him to take things slowly. He smiled to himself at the thought, they had been together almost two months before taking this final step.

From the beginning Harry had been hoping it would wind up here, even though he knew there was still so much else he wanted to do with Draco. He figured they had time for the rest of it once Draco had caught up on his reading.

He left his room, after cracking his door to check that no one was in the hall. He crossed quickly, thankful yet again that Draco was the closest room to his own. He gave his customary quick rap and then darted inside as he saw someone, he thought it was Neville, coming around the corner.

He shut the door softly behind himself and made sure to tug the Cloak tight about his shoulders and crouch slightly to cover his ankles. Someone knocked on the door and Draco swung wide eyes around the room, trying to pin Harry futilely.

“Keep that damn Cloak on,” Draco whispered furiously as he strode across the room. Just as Harry went snort a reply, Draco flung the door open.

"Yes?” Draco said perfunctorily to Neville.

“Why aren’t you in class, Malfoy? Don’t you take Arithmancy right now?” Neville asked suspiciously.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was excused today,” Draco said with a small frown.

“Suppose if I ask Professor Vector, that’ll check out?”

“You can ask the Headmistress herself since she was the one that excused me, before you report back to the Ministry,” Draco said stiffly.

“I don’t need any lip from the likes of you, Malfoy,” Neville snapped.

“Right, well, I’m busy, so unless it’s something else?” Draco said, his posture more rigid than Harry had seen in ages.

“Fine, just remember that I’m watching you Malfoy, even if you think you’ve hoodwinked Harry.”

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear,” Draco said, and Harry was sure Neville couldn’t detect the fury beneath the disdainful tone. It was something of a struggle to sit there and watch his former dormmate bully Draco, but knew he’d get hexed sideways if he stuck his nose in now. “If there’s anything else?”

When Neville failed to speak quickly enough, Draco shut the door in his face with a soft snap.

“What the fuck, Draco?” Harry whispered as Draco shot a quelling glare in the wrong direction. Draco started weaving the wards tight, his shoulders tense. Finally, he spun the last one, locking the room down so tightly Harry knew no one in the dorms would be able to even pick a thread out.

“Seriously, Draco, what the fuck? Since when has Neville been reporting back to the Ministry about you?” Harry asked furiously as he tossed the Cloak aside

“Sweet Salazar, Harry, you really are naive. Neville’s been checking up on me all term. He thinks I’ve tricked you into befriending me and that Hermione is only pretending to be my friend to keep an eye on me.” Draco said drily.

Harry started growling in the back of his throat. Draco shot him another glare.

“Last night was barely the worst of the curses that have hit me, only because it was the first one fast-acting enough that I couldn’t deal with it myself. I’ve been handling it alone all term, Potter, I don’t need you going all noble on me now.”

"That’s it, I’m going out there and I’m jinxing Neville,” Harry said as he tried to stride toward the door. Draco stopped him with a grab to his elbow.

“No, Harry, don’t, you’ll just make it worse.” Draco said softly. “Please, just stay here with me.”

“But,” Harry faltered, how did he express the fierce protectiveness he felt for Draco?

“You don’t have to save me, darling,” Draco said, as he pulled Harry into his arms.

“I know that, love,” Harry muttered into Draco’s collarbone, trying to stamp down his temper. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

“C’mon, I want a cuddle,” Draco demanded as he tugged Harry to the bed. “We’ve both had a rough couple of days.”

Draco flung himself back onto his pillows and held out his open arms. Harry was helpless to do anything other than kick off his slippers and snuggle into Draco’s chest. Draco dragged his nails along Harry’s scalp, causing Harry to experience a full body shiver. He drew his glasses off and Draco put them on the table.

“I love you, Moon Frog,” Harry whispered with a smile, melting into the warm pectoral pressed to his cheek.

“I love you too, Breakfast,” Harry felt Draco smirk into his hair. Harry snuggled deeper into Draco’s embrace.

A while later, Harry wasn’t sure how long, he felt himself drift back to consciousness. Something warm and wonderful was straddling him as a wet mouth trailed up his throat.

Harry moaned. “How long were we asleep?” He muttered, as he lifted sleepy hands to run up Draco’s sides.

"Long enough,” Draco whispered huskily as Harry felt hot breath caress his ear. Draco bit a fresh love bite onto the brown skin of Harry’s neck, and he felt himself thrusting up slightly as his prick grew heavy.

“Patience, Harry,” Draco breathed.

“Have you met me?” Harry groaned with a chuckle.

“Too right,” Draco said softly as Harry felt Draco pause. He finally opened his eyes to see Draco staring at him with a fond expression on his face.

“Are you sure about this?” Draco whispered as he examined Harry with his silver gaze.

“Jesus, Draco, I’ve never been more sure.” Harry said, before quickly adding on, “Unless you aren’t sure? We don’t have to, I can wait-”

“I’m sure, Harry,” Draco cut off his babbling and Harry felt his shoulders relax.

“Thank God,” he said as he captured Draco’s lips for a bruising snog.

“What do I need to do?” Draco asked breathlessly, after Harry finally released him.

“First, you need to prepare me.” Harry said with a blush, thanking the dark room and his dark skin.

"What does that mean?” Draco asked quietly, the moonlight streaming through the magicked window showing his flush.

“Er, could you finger me?” Draco froze above him. “I can do it myself, if you don’t want to.” Harry rushed out.

“No, I want to,” Draco said in a strangled voice. “You promise to make sure I do it right?”

"Of course, love,” Harry whispered with a brush of his fingers to Draco’s neck. “It’ll be easier for me to adjust if you suck me at the same time.”

Draco gave an odd high-pitched moan that Harry enjoyed immensely as he tugged Draco’s shirt off. He latched onto Draco’s scarred nipple, earning another breathy moan. He flicked it with his tongue as he felt Draco pull at the hem of his over-sized shirt. He leaned up to let Draco draw it off before he pushed his own bottoms down, giving a brief yank to Draco’s waistband as he did so. Draco got his intention and quickly shucked his pajamas. Soon their cocks were sliding delightfully together as Harry shivered again. He put a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“Wait,” he moaned. “I want to come with you in me.”

Draco stilled for a moment, hovering above him with a whiny moan. Harry felt a few more bites along his collarbone as he held himself as still as he could. Draco lapped along his chest, trailing hot kisses into the patch of dark hair running down his lower abdomen.

Draco gave a heavy exhale along Harry’s prick and he shivered in anticipation. He felt Draco wrap a hand around the base of his cock and looked down as Draco gave a small suckle to the tip of his prick. He futilely tried to thrust, as he felt Draco’s hand trail along his buttocks.

“Here, I brought some lube,” Harry moaned as he threw a hand out in a wandless Summoning Charm. His small bottle smacked into his palm.

“What do I do, exactly?” Draco asked after he pulled off of Harry’s throbbing prick.

“Go one finger at a time, when I tell you to. After I adjust to three, I’ll be ready for you.” Harry said softly, with a flush. He handed the vial over.

“Are you sure?” Draco asked as he wanked Harry slowly.

“Yes, Draco, I’m sure.” Harry replied.

Draco propped the bottle against Harry’s hip.

Harry felt a single, slick finger slide along his puckered entrance. He moaned in anticipation. Draco breached him tentatively, slowly probing deeper.

Harry felt himself adjust easily to that single finger, so he whispered to Draco to add the second. Draco complied, after a brief moment of hesitation. Harry felt the dull burn of being stretched and whinged slightly. Draco froze.

“Make a hook, like this,” Harry muttered, as he held up a hand to demonstrate. He knew the moment Draco took his advice as he felt a hot zing of pleasure.

“Nnngh,” Harry moaned, as he felt his thighs fall open. “Mmmm, yes, love, right there.” Harry felt Draco target his prostate mercilessly and had to tap on Draco’s shoulder.

“You need to stretch me,” Harry said as he made scissoring motions with his fingers. He felt Draco alternate between that and hitting his prostate. “Another.”

He felt the third finger breach him and focused on the pleasure he knew was rapidly approaching, as he tried to relax. He moaned as Draco rubbed that wonderful nub inside him. He let Draco continue for a few minutes, as he let the arousal wash over him. He lost himself as he felt his bollocks grow heavy.

“Fuck, Draco, I’m ready,” Harry moaned as he tapped Draco’s shoulder again. He heard Draco release him with a soft pop.

“Are you sure?” Draco asked roughly.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed as he felt Draco’s fingers slip out of him. He tucked a pillow under his hips, to give Draco better leverage.

Draco crawled up his chest, mouthing along his skin. Draco spent some time licking and nibbling the scar over his heart, until Harry pulled him up by his nape.

He could taste himself on Draco’s tongue and rubbed his thumb along Draco’s cheekbone. He pulled a heel up, letting his legs spread wide as he felt Draco line up his slick cock. He breathed deeply, as Draco breached him slowly.

The burn made him gasp; Draco’s prick was definitely larger than three fingers. “Wait,” he mumbled as Draco froze above him.

He reached down and gently wanked himself until he adjusted. He pulled Draco closer, letting him slide in a bit more. Draco reached down and knocked his hand away. He felt Draco push in deeper, while he felt Draco’s thumb smear his precome along the head of his dick. He felt a moan rise in the back of his throat.

“Mmmm, yes, love,” Harry muttered as Draco thrust a little deeper. He slung a leg around Draco’s hips, pulling him forward insistently. Finally, Draco slid all the way in, as Harry scrambled his hands along Draco’s spine.

“Okay, darling?” Draco choked out, as he gave tiny thrusts, telling Harry how desperately he wanted to go.

“Fuck, yes, Draco, move, please move,” Harry pleaded. He felt Draco give a cautious thrust, as he moaned helplessly.

Draco managed to hit his prostate every few thrusts, and Harry felt himself pushing back up against the prick filling him.

He babbled helplessly, words like yes, love and harder, please spilling from his lips as he felt Draco tug his heavy cock relentlessly. He felt another drag of Draco’s prick along his prostate and shuddered as he felt his orgasm approach.

“Nnngh, love, I’m close.” Harry whispered against the shell of Draco’s ear, as he pulled the lobe into his mouth. Draco shivered and thrust even harder, his other arm bracketing Harry’s head. “Yes, just like that,” he whined as a wave of desire crashed over him.

Draco thrust impossibly deeper, and Harry felt his orgasm slam into him as he spurted ropey lines across his own chest. Draco stuttered inside of him, pushing deep and then holding still as Harry felt Draco come deep inside.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered, as Draco gently pulled himself free. Harry felt Draco’s come trail down his crease as he shivered with the loss.

Draco collapsed on top of him and he ran his drowsy hands along Draco’s spine, happy to feel the weight of his boyfriend on top him.

“I love you,” Harry whispered.

“Mmmm, I love you too,” Draco said as he rolled off of Harry. They faced each other as Harry raised a hand to caress Draco’s cheekbone.

Chapter Text

“Draco, wake up!” Pansy shouted as she barreled into Draco’s manor bedroom, slamming the door open. She hopped onto his bed and shook him roughly awake.

“What the fuck, Pansy?” Draco mumbled, as he abruptly regained consciousness. Fleetingly he felt his dream trickle away; he had been flying somewhere with Harry, without the use of a broom.

“It’s Christmas!” Pansy exclaimed above him.

“I hate you so much right now,” Draco growled, remembering the fact that Pansy had arrived at the Manor the day before. She had Flooed over after lunch to celebrate Christmas Eve while Draco tried to avoid setting the date to their wedding. His mother, in the least subtle manner Draco had ever witnessed, attempted to bring the wedding up four separate times as Pansy and Draco danced around the subject.

“C’mon, let’s go open presents!”

“Mother won’t let us open presents before breakfast, what time is it?” Draco mumbled as he drew the blanket over his head.

“Half past seven,” Pansy said as she bounced a few times in excitement.

“Breakfast on Christmas isn’t until nine, we won’t get to presents till ten at the earliest.” He said into his pillow.

“Still, get up, we both know it takes you forever to get ready,” Pansy said with another shake to his shoulder.

“You woke me up just before Tippy was going to wake me,” Draco whinged from his warm cocoon of expensive blankets. “Besides, what do you care? You’re Jewish.”

“I’ve never had a Christmas before, I’m excited,” Pansy said cheerfully.

“I’m sure Mother got you plenty of presents,” Draco mumbled as he finally recognized the inevitable and threw his blanket down.

“What did you get for Harry?” Pansy asked brightly.

Draco hauled himself up, leaning back against his headboard, as he rubbed his eyes. “I got him a few nice shirts and a book; I didn’t want to overdo it our first Christmas. What did you get Luna?”

“I got her a trip for two to the continent come this summer. We’re going to go look for some of her favorite creatures,” Pansy said with a smile.

“How did you manage to get away with that?” Draco asked, astonished.

“I told Father it was a ‘girl’s only’ trip to celebrate graduating and he fell for it, like a Stunner to the chest,” Pansy said smugly.

“You devious slag,” Draco said with an envious grin.

“Ta, darling,” Pansy said. “So, how are you and the Golden Boy doing?”

“Don’t call him that,” Draco said instead.

“Fine, how are you and our messy hero?” Pansy asked with a smirk.

“Ungh Pansy, he’s fantastic,” Draco groaned, throwing his left arm over his eyes.

“So dramatic,” Pansy mused, as Draco considered mastering the Stinging Hex wandlessly for what seemed the hundredth time. “Have you finally shagged yet?”

Recently Pansy had taken to asking if he and Harry had shagged every time she cornered him alone for the past month. She had no idea that just the last week at school Draco had indeed shagged Harry, and that they had shagged every night until the holiday had started, though it had only been the four times. Draco had left for the Manor before she had been able to wrestle the information out of him.

Draco felt himself flush. “Er, yeah?” he said hesitantly, after a pause.

“Draco! You harlot! Tell me everything!” Pansy exclaimed.

“What’s there to tell?” Draco asked, with a falsely nonchalant shrug of a shoulder. “We shagged.”

“What was it like? Did you come? Was it horribly uncomfortable?” Pansy asked swiftly.

“Er, what do you mean?” Draco asked in confusion. Of course, they had both come, and the only uncomfortable part had been attempting to reign in his own instinctual thrusting as Harry had adjusted to his girth. Indeed, remembering the tight heat of being inside of Harry Sodding Potter was threatening to make his prick wake up and take notice.

“How was it to bottom for the Boy Who Lived?” Pansy asked.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I didn’t bottom,” Draco said softly, as the ever-present twinges in his arm grew stronger from the angle of covering his eyes.

“Draco Lucius Abraxas Malfoy!” Pansy shrieked. “Tell me everything, right now, or I’m calling off the marriage!"

“You wouldn’t!” Draco said as he gave her a pinch to the thigh.

When Tippy arrived precisely on time, Draco and Pansy were still in his bed, chortling and snorting as they tickled one another.

“Breakfast will be served in one hour, Master Draco, Miss Parkinson,” Tippy said in a piping voice.

“Thank you, Tippy, we’ll be down directly,” Draco said, breathless with laughter. After the crack of Disapparation, Draco used his heel to kick Pansy off the bed.

“What the bloody fuck?” Pansy exclaimed as her arse hit the floor with a heavy thunk.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear, I thought your greatest Christmas wish was for a fat arse,” Draco said sarcastically.

“Prat,” Pansy mumbled from the floor.

“Go back to your room and leave me in peace to get ready. Mother will kill me if we show up to breakfast looking this unkempt,” Draco said as he crossed his room to his en suite. “And cover that awful love bite on your tit!”

“Why, Draco, dear, I didn’t know you got jealous,” Pansy said mischievously.

“We both know all your favorite dresses show a lot of cleavage. Since one of them is surely what you’re planning on wearing, please, don’t give Mother any more reason to believe a Malfoy heir is imminent, lest she manages to set the date for the wedding.” Draco said with a shudder as Pansy noticeably sobered. She gave a succinct nod as she exited Draco’s room.

He pulled the taps on as he shucked his clothing, turning the heat on as high as it would go. He glimpsed in the mirror for a moment and saw the thick purple scars slashing across his abdomen. Yet again he wondered how he had caught the bespectacled eye of Harry Bloody Potter.

With a shake of his head, he stepped into the tiled shower, steam billowing around his calves. The hot sting of water eased his pain as he moaned in appreciation, his usual reticence momentarily forgotten.

Precisely forty-five minutes later he was walking into the informal dining room, arm-in-arm with Pansy, her love bite covered by the shimmer of a Glamour. He let her arm go only to pull out her chair, feeling his mother’s eyes on the back of his neck the entire time. Pansy sat gracefully as he pushed the chair in beneath her, their motions an easy repetition of years of practice.

The room was decorated extravagantly, though the majority of the decorations had been made specifically for the larger formal dining room that had been fouled by the Dark Lord. This was the first year Draco had seen Christmas set in this room, the first physical concession he had seen from his mother that things had indeed changed since the war.

Here everything was green, silver, and oversized, sparkling with fairy lights and ancient charms.

Breakfast passed quickly, with only one awkward moment when Pansy was asked by Narcissa what she was planning to do after school.

“I’m going to the continent with a girlfriend for a month to celebrate graduating. Then I plan on designing clothing, maybe even getting an apprenticeship at Twilfitt and Tattings.” Pansy said with a smile, as Draco cast a gentle Stinging Hex her way. Pansy didn’t flinch, but she did dart a quick glance his way, catching his eye for the briefest of moments. “I mean, only if I have any free time, as I learn how to run the household from you, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Please, call me Narcissa,” his mother said with a graceful wave of her hand. “Oh, and that reminds me, Draco, we need to go through the finances before you go back to school. I have a few forms that need your signature.”

“Very well, Mother, we can go over them tomorrow, I’m sure.” Draco said obediently. Perhaps, for once, she would take his advice and invest in certain areas, areas he found appealing and sure to pay off. His father had never listened when Draco attempted to take more interest in the family's finances, yet had demanded Draco attend as many meetings about running the estate as he could. Now, Draco felt it was time to pull their Galleons away from businesses like Borgin and Burkes, and into investments such as Healing Potions. The war had harmed many, and for at least a generation there would be a strong demand for products that helped rather than harmed people. Of course, this was if they had any fortune left after the war reparations were made. He made a mental note to ask his mother how much his father was being held financially responsible for, as that would surely change any investments they did move forward with.

He took a small sip of his Christmas champagne, carefully setting the chute back on the table without spilling it.

Salazar, he had never realized how fragile everything in his ancestral home was. At Hogwarts, everything was designed for the use of rambunctious children. He could basically throw a goblet or plate against the wall and they wouldn’t break. He couldn’t count the times this term he had shakily dropped a cup of tea in his room, only to Summon it back unbroken.

Here he had to be careful. Most of the heirlooms had enchantments inlaid to keep them useful and from coming to harm, but it was a point of pride for powerful families to keep some of their precious heirlooms, particularly the crystal, uncharmed. It spoke highly of a family to have an heirloom or two untouched by repairment spells. The Malfoy Crystal was three centuries old and not one piece was even chipped. When the Dark Lord had inhabited the Manor, his mother had somehow tucked the set away, and substituted it with a lesser familial set, which had sustained much damage.

This was the first year Draco was allowed to even touch a glass and he could barely keep his hand from trembling.

After breakfast, Draco escorted Pansy into the parlor attached to the informal dining room. He sat her on a chaise much like his own mother’s and set himself on an antique armchair that would help keep his slender frame warm in the winter chill. His mother was reclining nearest the table piled high with presents. The tree was placed in the corner, sparkling with holiday cheer.

Narcissa began by levitating a gift to Pansy, a present she said was from your new mother to my new daughter. Pansy smiled broadly as she opened a set of gardening shears. Her smile didn’t flicker, but Draco could practically feel her boredom from across the room.

Draco was gifted a new racing broom from his father (his mother), a new set of chess pieces from his aunt (his mother), and of course many expensive gifts from his fiancé (her father).

Eventually, his mother floated him a small rectangular box wrapped sloppily in horizontal green and silver.

Draco slid a finger along the seam, quickly pealing the paper off. He pulled the lid of the slim box off and blinked. There, nestled in tissue paper, were two leather cuffs. The top one was black and the bottom was a deep brown. Folded on top was a narrow letter.

Draco unfolded the parchment with shaky fingers.

Draco,

I know you have everything, but I hope you find a use for these.

I enchanted the cuffs for you. If you wear one on your wand arm, you won’t drop anything you’re holding, not unless you mean to. I added a strong stabilizing charm, so that no one will see your hands tremble. I also wove a light pain-killing enchantment to the black cuff, for when it really hurts. I know they don’t match each other, but I figured you’d want different colors to go with your extensive wardrobe.

-Harry

P.S. I also made them weatherproof, so don’t worry about rain or humidity ruining the leather.

“Draco, what is it you have there?” His mother’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“My present from Harry,” Draco said softly, with a quick glance to Pansy. She immediately began peppering Narcissa with questions about the manor and the preparations for Christmas and what they might do for Hanukkah next year. Draco barely registered their conversation as he awkwardly buckled the black cuff on his left wrist.

Immediately he felt a slight compression along his hands and fingers. He picked up his flute of champagne, and felt how secure it was in his grasp. He took a sip and watched his glass rise steadily. He set the stem to the small table next to him and felt no resistance when he released it. The pain that usually resonated from his shoulder blades to his fingertips eased, and then disappeared. He silently extended his hand, the way that always made him shake, and for the first time in over six months, his hand stayed still. He stared in shock.

Harry had not only respected his privacy when it came to his nerve damage, he had found a way to help him keep his secret. Harry had somehow woven multiple charms into the bracelets, extending the charms past the physical boundaries of the cuff. The skill and consideration astounded him. And all he had gotten Harry was a stupid book and a couple of stupid shirts.

“So, Draco, what did Harry get you?” Pansy asked as his mother watched curiously. Draco lifted the brown bracelet.

“Just a couple of leather cuffs,” Draco said softly, attempting to downplay how massively his world had just shifted.

“Very handsome,” his mother said as she gave a brief glance. “What did you get him?”

“A book,” Draco abbreviated, not wanting his mother to think he had given Harry more than was acceptable.

“What was the book about?” Pansy asked cheerfully, as she passed a gift to Narcissa.

“It was the Selwyn Anthropology.” Draco said as Narcissa froze from opening a jeweled brooch from the cushioned box she had resting in her lap.

“What was that?” Narcissa asked quietly, her fingers still nestled in the velvet folds.

“I got him the Selwyn Anthropology of Pureblood Families,” Draco said as he tucked the brown leather cuff into his pocket. He planned on keeping close tabs on both bracelets.

“Draco, have you gone mad?” Pansy asked quietly.

“No?” He answered with a furrowed brow.

“You gave the Chosen One a book about Pureblood culture?” Pansy asked, shocked.

“The Potters were one of the Sacred Bloodlines, I just thought he’d want to read about that side of his family.” Draco said in confusion.

“Pansy, it will soon be your place, so I will let you take this one,” his Mother said in a disappointed voice.

Draco knew that tone from his mother. He had made some transgression and now must reason it out. For a moment he was at a loss, he had merely tried to help Harry connect with the family and traditions he had lost when he had become an orphan. Every Pureblood was brought up reading Selwyn’s Anthropology. Indeed, Harry’s own father would have been made to at least read, if not memorize extensive portions as Draco had, as a boy.

“You got the Boy Who Lived a book on Pureblood genealogy?” Pansy repeated, scandalized.

“Well, yes, his father was a Pureblood and I thought he might like to know more about that side of his family. I don’t know anything about how muggles track their familial accomplishment.” Draco said as Pansy’s mouth got wider and wider.

“Draco, you got the Savior of the wizarding world, Harry Bloody Potter, a book on Purebloods?” Pansy said in her talking-to-an-idiot voice.

“Well, yes…” Draco trailed off as what she said registered. “Oh, bloody hell.” He, Draco Malfoy, a former Death Eater, had given Harry Potter a book about Pureblood genealogy and customs. Harry was going to think Draco hadn’t changed at all from his Death Eater days. Or, worse, Harry was going to think Draco was trying to convince him into accepting some fool notion of blood purity. Sweet Salazar, Harry was definitely going to break up with him when he got back to school.

“Merlin, Draco, how thick are you?” Pansy asked with a chuckle.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Draco moaned, slumping down into his chair.

“Language,” his mother said. “Not on Christmas.”

“Maybe next time you’ll make sure to check with me before you pick out gifts,” Pansy said sweetly, as his mother thanked her for the brooch she finally lifted free of the box that had laid neglected in her lap.

Draco frowned at Pansy before his mother sent a soft Feather Charm across his cheek. He turned his eyes from Pansy to his mother, who gave him a stern look and gestured at his small table.

Quietly Draco opened the drawer as his mother plied Pansy with another present. Inside, the drawer was bare, except for a small black box. The exact size box to hold an engagement ring, Draco realized with a plummet of his heart to his navel. This was it. This was the moment he would officially propose to Pansy.

He heaved an internal sigh and rose to his feet. He crossed the room swiftly, the life-defining box now tucked into his pocket.

He felt his mother’s eyes on the back of his neck once again as he knelt next to Pansy’s chair. The fabric to his robes bunched uncomfortably under his right knee.

“Since fourth year, you’ve been the one constant in my life. When everything else was changing and I couldn’t move for fear of the ground beneath my feet falling away, you held steady. Your friendship has never faltered. Your loyalty has never wavered. You have never once failed to believe in me even when the rest of the world despised and reviled me. We have survived a war, together we can survive anything. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife.” Draco recited the short speech he had written over the past few days. He heard his mother sniff into a scrap of handkerchief behind him, as he opened the tiny velvet case.

“Of course, Draco,” Pansy said with a warm smile. Draco was sure he was the only one that saw the shadow behind her eyes, shadows he knew were reflected in his own gaze. He slipped the ring on her finger, both of them committing to the future their families had chosen for them.

Chapter Text

Harry sat in the eighth year Common Room near Hermione. He tugged excitedly on the sleeve of the black dress shirt Draco had gifted him for Christmas. Draco must have remembered what Harry had said about the hand me downs from Dudley, because the three shirts from Draco were the nicest clothes he had ever received. They fit him better than he had known a shirt could fit, sitting on his broad frame perfectly.

“Are you ready to see Blaise again?” Harry asked Hermione as he tried to settle himself back into his and Draco’s emerald couch.

“So ready,” Hermione said with a smile, as the earrings Blaise had gifted her sparkled in the firelight. “You?”

“Very,” Harry said softly, as Nomi let out a sleepy purr from his lap. Kai slithered down his chest and curled up on the black fur of the adolescent cat. “’Mione, look.”

“Aww, aren’t they just the sweetest?” Hermione said and Harry had to agree. After her molt, Kai had returned to her usual cheerful self. She had been irritable and out of sorts for an entire week as Harry went spare trying to figure out what was wrong. He had even gone to the village for another book on reptiles, all to wake up to Kai proudly showing off her new ghostly white scales with a shed skin coiled in a corner of the tank.

The back of Saudade slid aside as the holiday-goers entered the eighth year Common Room. Pansy, Luna, Draco, and Blaise headed right for their corner. Luna flopped onto the brown couch she and Pansy normally shared, as Pansy snuggled under her arm.

Draco sat just next to Harry, both of them giving the other a soft smile as they tried to ignore the enthusiasm with which Blaise and Hermione reunited. Blaise picked Hermione up in the air, twirling her around as he peppered her face with kisses.

Harry got neither hug nor kiss, merely the press of a knee against his own.

“Did you have a nice holiday?” Harry asked.

“I did,” Draco began as a miserable looking Seamus walked past their corner. “Something is up with Dean and Seamus though,” Draco said with a nod at the Irishman’s retreating back. “He showed up in our carriage partway through the ride back and wouldn’t say two words.”

“He looked really sad,” Luna said as she leaned against Pansy. Pansy raised a hand to pat Luna’s shoulder, a huge diamond catching the light.

Harry’s stomach dropped as he realized which finger it was. It was her ring finger, which meant Draco had officially proposed to her over the holiday. His boyfriend was marrying someone else and the cruel truth was he couldn’t even be upset about it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known. Draco had always been entirely upfront about the fact that he was marrying Pansy, if in name only. Harry had assumed it wouldn’t matter much, that it wouldn’t hurt, but it did. Bloody fuck, it hurt.

“The pale one remains my favorite, he evokes such mouthwatering emotion. You have not fed me this much in weeks. Do not let the pale one go away again.”

“I may not have a choice,” Harry hissed morosely as Draco turned to him.

“I think I’m going to go check on Seamus,” Harry said abruptly, “In case Kai can help.”

Creakily, Harry rose, feeling everyone’s eyes on him as he left the Common Room. He caressed Kai on his shoulder as he went through to the boy’s dorms. He stopped in front of Seamus’s room and gave a brief knock.

“Go away, Dean!” Seamus shouted, the faint sounds of ripping paper coming through the oak door.

“It’s not Dean, it’s Harry,” he called back.

The door creaked open, one red-rimmed eye peering through the crack.

“What is it, Harry?” Seamus asked in a raspy voice.

“I just wanted to check and see if you’re okay,” Harry said, as Seamus opened the door wider. Seamus turned and left the door open behind himself, which Harry took as an invitation to enter.

Harry shut the door behind him, silently casting a few privacy spells so that Seamus could rant in peace, if he so chose.

Seamus barely spared Harry a glance, he just went back to tearing drawings off the wall. Drawings Harry realized Dean must have done. More than half were on the floor, torn to shreds, as Seamus attacked a large illustration of him and Dean snogging.

Harry leapt forward; he wasn’t sure Seamus really wanted that ruined.

“Here, mate, let me. You sit down and pet Kai,” Harry said as he ushered Seamus to the bed. He dropped Kai into Seamus’s hands and gave the bloke a squeeze on the shoulder.

Harry turned back to the wall, quietly pulling the Spello-tape off the corners of the drawing. He carefully set it on Seamus’s desk, and then turned his attention to the next drawing. In it, Seamus was stretched out in bed, an inky blanket wrapped around his hips. Harry could practically feel the love Dean had for Seamus in the arch of each quill line. Silently, he stacked that on the desk too, before turning his attentions to the next drawing.

“He shagged someone else.” Seamus said from behind Harry. Harry didn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry, Seamus,” Harry said softly.

“I just don’t understand how he could say he loves me and then do that with someone else,” Seamus said in a choked voice. “He said it didn’t mean anything, but it does to me, it means everything.”

“God, Seamus, I’m so sorry,” Harry said as he pulled another picture off the wall.

“I know the war messed him up, it messed me up too. He had to leave school in the middle of term last year, to get away from the Carrows. But he won’t tell me anything that happened during the time he was gone. What if he was shagging his way through muggle London? What if I’m just another in his long line of conquests?”

Briefly Harry recalled that Dean had been on the run just as much as he had, and that he had wound up in Draco’s dungeon along with Luna.

“Look, it really isn’t my place to say, but he wasn’t shagging his way through London. He had it rough, just like the rest of us.” Harry said gently, as he sat next to Seamus.

“Doesn’t matter, I broke up with him,” Seamus said. “I deserve better, someone who isn’t going to cheat on me as soon as they’re out of my sight.”

“You deserve the best, mate. You’re smart and funny,” Harry replied, trying to cheer Seamus up. “And you’re not terrible to look at.”

“You do too, Harry,” Seamus said, shifting slightly on the bed. “You deserve someone who’s willing to be out with you, who wants to show off that they caught the eye of the Savior.”

“It’s not that simple,” Harry said with an ache in his chest, thinking of the ring on Pansy’s finger.

“It could be,” Seamus whispered.

“What?” Harry said as he looked up from studying his hands. He looked up just in time to see Seamus close the small distance between them and press his lips to Harry’s.

Harry froze in shock. Seamus must have taken his surprise as consent because he tried to push Harry back on the bed, opening his mouth to push his tongue past Harry’s lips.

“Wait,” Harry said quickly, pushing Seamus’s shoulders back. “Seamus, I’m seeing someone.”

“Are you really, Harry? Does he really care about you if he isn’t willing to hold your hand in public?” Seamus asked roughly.

“Of course he does,” Harry said, ignoring how sharp the words felt.

“You’re sure about that? Because I’d snog you in the bloody Great Hall,” Seamus said.

“Look, you’re upset, I should go,” Harry said, standing up. “Keep Kai, she’ll help you feel better.”

With that he practically sprinted out of the room, tearing open the door and darting into his own bedroom three doors down.

Meet me in my room, I need to talk to you.

Harry quilled the short note and jabbed it with his wand. It folded itself into a small bird and darted out of the open door. He left the door open and began pacing.

He had worried a rough trail through his room when Hermione arrived not a minute later. He waved his wand at the door, shutting it and throwing wards at the same time.

“Seamus just snogged me,” Harry said, without any warning.

“He did what?” Hermione asked, her eyebrows raising.

“Kissed me, on the mouth, out of nowhere!” Harry said anxiously.

“Blaise is going to murder him,” Hermione said swiftly, as she twirled a dark curl around her finger.

“Draco is going to murder him!” Harry said, panicking slightly. “Fuck, Hermione, do I even tell him?”

“Did you kiss him back?” Hermione asked gently.

“No! Maybe? I don’t know, ‘Mione, I froze!” Harry said as he increased his pace.

“Did you want him to snog you?” Hermione asked as she sat at his desk.

“No, definitely not,” Harry said without a second of hesitation. “I’m in love with Draco.”

“Then you’re going to have to tell him, he’ll kill you if you don’t and he finds out.” Hermione said reasonably.

“Yeah, I think you’re right. Fuck ‘Mione, he’s going to be so angry, he might kill me anyway,” Harry said as he spun his wand in his fingers. Sparks emitted from the tip, his anxiety and stress getting the best of him.

“I’m going back to the Common Room. Do you want me to send Draco?” Hermione asked.

“Might as well get it over with, yeah.” Harry said, running a hand through his messy locks. Hermione left the room with a comforting pat to his shoulder.

A few minutes later, Draco knocked on the open door.

“Harry, what’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Draco asked as Harry kept pacing.

“Er, let’s sit.” Harry said as he flung the strongest locking spells he knew at the door. “Here, give me your wand.”

“Okay,” Draco said slowly, passing over the hawthorn wand as Harry put both of their wands in the bedside table, locking it with a wave of his hand.

“Try not to fly off the handle,” Harry said, as he sat on the bed next to Draco. He fidgeted for a moment.

“Salazar, Harry, spit it out, you’re worrying me,” Draco said anxiously.

“Seamus kissed me. I didn’t want him to, and I stopped him as soon as I realized what he was doing.”

Draco froze, his eyes searching Harry’s. “Give me back my wand.”

“No, Draco, I’m not going to let you kill him.”

“Fine, I’ll just curse him,” Draco said, reaching over Harry to tug futilely on the drawer handle.

“You’re on probation, you can’t curse him.” Harry said, as he rubbed a hand along Draco’s arm.

“Not even a little one? I know one that makes your breath smell like a decaying whale, permanently.” Draco said sharply.

“Decaying whale?” Harry laughed.

“Yes, apparently it’s a very distinctive smell.” Draco said seriously.

“No, Draco, I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Harry said softly, still rubbing Draco’s arm.

“You do know I’m going to tell Pansy and Blaise, right? They’ll curse him for me,” Draco said a smirk.

“Fine, as long as you aren’t the one on the other side of the wand.” Harry agreed, forcing a laugh. He brushed a knuckle along Draco’s neck. Draco’s silver eyes burned through him, searing away the agony he felt at the mention of Pansy.

“So, what you’re really telling me is that Seamus is the last person to snog you?” Draco whispered darkly, as he leaned forward.

“I’d rather he wasn’t,” Harry mumbled, spreading his fingers along Draco’s neck, and tugging slightly to bring their lips together.

Harry hadn’t felt Draco’s mouth in weeks, and he was desperate to taste as much as he could. He opened his mouth, slipping his tongue against Draco’s, finally tasting the perfection that was his boyfriend.

Harry pushed Draco back, throwing a knee over Draco’s thighs. He straddled Draco, shoving him back enough that the long pale limbs were laid flat on Harry’s bed.

“I missed you,” Harry said, as he started unbuttoning Draco’s shirt. He felt Draco’s hands run down his own fancy buttons.

“I missed you too,” Draco said as Harry felt a fingertip caress his nipple. “Why aren’t you wearing an undershirt?”

“Am I supposed to?” Harry asked as he revealed Draco’s scarred chest, pulling away layers of fabric in the process.

“Of course, you are,” Draco gasped as Harry leaned down to pay special attention to the scars crossing Draco’s chest.

“I’ll have to get some then,” Harry said, pulling on Draco’s belt. He pushed Draco’s pants down, as he felt Draco’s fingers fumble with his own trousers. Harry lifted up to let Draco pull them off.

Harry wrapped a hand around both of their straining cocks, giving a few tentative pulls. Draco’s breathing turned heavy, which Harry took as a good sign. He bit another mark into Draco’s collarbone.

“Nngh, Harry,” Draco breathed into his ear. “I want…”

“What do you want, love?” Harry asked, his hand stilling.

“I want to feel you, all of you,” Draco said with flushed cheeks. Harry didn’t even hesitate, he waved a hand at his bedside table, unlocking the drawer. He Summoned the lube, slapping it into Draco’s palm.

Harry stroked them both slowly, teasingly, as he watched Draco dip into the jar. Draco looked up at him, seemingly checking that Harry was alright as he pressed a slick finger against Harry’s crease. Harry nodded, breathlessly, as Draco slowly breached him with a single finger.

“Mmm, Draco,” Harry moaned as he pushed back against Draco’s finger a few times. “Another.”

Draco slowly pushed a second finger in, as Harry felt the burn of being stretched. Draco pressed against Harry’s prostate, as he gasped into Draco’s ear.

“Nngh, fuck, yes,” Harry moaned, leaning forward to mouth along Draco’s collarbone. He bit harshly as Draco rubbed his prostate relentlessly.

Draco pushed a third finger in, as Harry impatiently let himself adjust. He grabbed the lube from where Draco had dropped it and quickly slicked up Draco’s prick.

Harry guided Draco’s cock and slowly sank down, rocking ever so slightly. He didn’t know if it was because he was on top, a first for them, or if it was the two weeks since he had last had Draco inside of him, but Draco felt impossibly large in a way that took his breath away.

Harry stilled above Draco, his hands on either side of Draco’s face. He leaned down and snogged Draco again, mashing their tongues together frantically. Draco caressed his back as he finally started to move. He rose his hips slightly, and then pressed back down, moaning helplessly.

It felt wonderful, better than flying. He groaned into Draco’s mouth, as Draco’s fingernails scratched his back. He ground down, feeling full for the first time in weeks. He felt Draco bite onto his nipple and take his prick in hand. The feeling of his prostate being hit as Draco tugged on his cock was almost overwhelming.

He placed his palms on Draco’s chest, effectively pinning him, as he began riding Draco in earnest. He locked eyes with his boyfriend and felt everything else fall away. Every bit of worry and fear was gone. All that was left was the pleasure he was chasing and the feel of Draco beneath him.

“Mine,” Draco moaned, as Harry felt Draco roughly grab his hips.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Harry panted as he impaled himself on Draco’s cock.

Draco raised one hand, grabbing the side of Harry’s face. “Mine,” Draco growled again. Harry nodded, understanding.

“Yours, only yours,” Harry moaned, leaning back slightly. The new angle was somehow even better, as he slammed down, over and over.

Draco palmed him roughly, rubbing a thumb along the slit of Harry’s cock. “I need you to come, Harry, please come, I’m so close.” Draco moaned.

Draco pleading for him to come was all it took, as he came so hard he saw stars. He felt himself fall forward, his come spurting slick between their chests.

“I love you,” Harry muttered, as he drew a deep lungful of air. He felt Draco latch onto his throat as he reached his own climax, and kept a hand braced onto the nape of his pale companion.

“I love you too,” Draco mumbled against Harry’s neck. Harry smiled widely; he didn’t think the words would ever stop thrilling him.

He ran a hand through Draco’s hair, the fine strands impossibly mussed. “Leave my hair alone, I don’t want to have to fix it before we go back to the Common Room,” Draco said.

“I think that ship has sailed, love,” Harry laughed as a knock to the door made Draco freeze beneath him.

“Bloody hell,” Harry said as he Summoned his wand. He disarmed the Silencing spells but kept the rest up. “Who is it?” He called.

“Harry? It’s Seamus. I brought Kai back,” Seamus’s voice came through.

“Okay, give me a second!” Harry said as Draco growled under him. “You, shush.”

Harry scrambled out of the bed, quickly grabbing the first pair of trousers he saw with blurry vision. He pulled them on as he crossed to the door, almost falling over in the process.

“The Cloak is in my trunk,” Harry said as Draco pulled on his pants and undershirt, quickly kneeling by Harry’s trunk. Harry Summoned his glasses and shoved them on his face. A moment later, Draco had flung the Cloak around his shoulders and vanished.

Harry removed the rest of the wards from the door and cracked it open.

Seamus was standing alone in the hallway, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “Here’s Kai.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, reaching out a hand to take his little white snake back. He set her up on his shoulder, as Seamus kept his eyes on the ground.

“I’m sorry, about what happened before,” Seamus said.

“It’s fine,” Harry said, uncomfortably aware that he hadn’t put on a shirt yet.

“Just remember what I said, about being public,” Seamus said. “I would never be ashamed of you.” Harry felt Draco shift and hoped he hadn’t heard what Seamus had just said.

“Seamus, I told you, it’s more complicated than that.” Harry said, as Seamus raised his face. He saw the moment Seamus noticed his fresh love bites and disheveled appearance.

“Oh, great Godric, Moon Frog is here, isn’t he?” Seamus asked as Harry pushed his sweaty hair back.

“He is.” Draco said sharply, as he threw the Cloak off of his shoulders and sauntered up to wrap an arm around Harry’s waist.

“No.” Seamus said, eyes impossibly wide. “You aren’t with Malfoy.”

“Er, yeah I am,” Harry said with a glance to the side. Draco looked icy and dangerous and Harry felt a wave of arousal that threatened to awaken his recently depleted prick.

“Yes, he is, so you can kindly piss off now.” Draco said with a snap as he jabbed his wand. Seamus yelped as what Harry hoped was a Stinging Hex hit him.

“Bloody hell! Sorry!” Seamus said as he rubbed his thigh. He backed away slowly, hands clearly visible until he turned and basically ran down the hall back to the Common Room.

“I’m going to regret that, aren’t I?” Draco said, his hand still caressing Harry’s hipbone.

“Yup, probably in a few moments, but he won’t say anything,” Harry said as he kicked his door shut, quickly he crossed to Kai’s tank to set her back into it.

“Must you? Can you not contain yourself in my presence? Please take your disgusting desire far away.” Kai hissed in annoyance.

“Very well, do you wish to feed more before I leave?” Harry asked as Draco started to pace the same track Harry had earlier.

“No, I am full and tired, I only wish for a nap.” Kai said sibilantly.

“C’mon, love, Kai’s kicking us out. Let’s go to your room,” Harry said softly, as he approached Draco.

“Maybe we should go back to the Common Room,” Draco said instead. “It’s too early for bed.”

“Are you sure about that?” Harry asked as he slid behind Draco, letting his prick drag along Draco’s arse. He wrapped his arms around the pale stomach, rubbing Draco’s hips enticingly.

“Mmm, Harry, already?” Draco moaned, dropping his head back onto Harry’s shoulder as Harry dipped his hand into Draco’s pants.

“I really missed you,” Harry said as he nibbled on Draco’s trapezoid. Harry grasped Draco’s semihard prick, pumping slowly.

“Dinner, take the pale one from my territory,” Kai hissed as she rose up and flattened her neck in disgust.

“Draco, we really need to go. Kai is about ready to bite me,” Harry huffed a laugh.

“Fine but let’s go back to the Common Room,” Draco said as he disentangled himself from Harry’s embrace. “I’ll go first and then you follow in a bit. Try to find a way to control yourself in the meantime."

“Do I have to?” Harry smirked as Draco buttoned up the shirt he had been wearing. Draco began tossing things around, looking for his trousers.

“Yes, you do,” Draco said, finally looking at Harry. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re wearing my trousers! Take them off before you pop a seam.”

Harry laughed. “Want to come and take them off for me?”

Draco approached with an almost predatory look in his eye. “Why, yes, Potter, I believe I do.” Draco said with a sneer. The erection that had threatened to return with Draco’s confrontation with Seamus returned in earnest with Draco’s taunting tone. Dear Jesus, what was wrong with him? Why was he finding a threatening Draco so sexy?

“You sure about that, Malfoy? Wouldn’t want you to get more than you can handle.” Harry said roughly, for once ignoring Kai’s irritated hiss.

“I can handle anything you’ve got- Sweet Merlin Harry, what have you done to my hair?” Draco suddenly froze, eyes caught on the mirror on the wall.

“Er, nothing?” Harry said sheepishly. Draco’s hair really was awful though, as Draco turned tortured eyes on him.

“Right, change of plans. You get dressed and go to the Common Room. I’m heading to the baths. Nothing other than a wash is going to help this mess you made.”

Harry smiled at Draco’s dramatics, ignoring his insistent prick. He shucked the trousers he was wearing, tossing them at Draco. He quickly dressed in what he had been wearing before, the collar of the gifted shirt covering most of the new love bites he had.

Draco covered himself in the Cloak before Harry opened the door. He felt Draco slip past him as he turned the opposite direction and went to the Common Room.

He sat in his usual space; Hermione and Blaise the only ones there. They were giving each other such intense looks Harry imagined if he had come out two minutes earlier, he would have found the table empty.

“Hey, Blaise, how was your holiday?” Harry asked as he sat in his usual seat.

“Quite lovely really, my mum refused to touch me the entire time,” Blaise replied as he snuggled Nomi into the jumper Hermione had gifted him.

“Sounds nice,” Harry said with a laugh. “Did you tell him, ‘Mione?”

“Did she ever!” Blaise said. “Apparently we hate Seamus now?”

“Hate may be a strong word, but I’ll let Moon Frog decide,” Harry said seriously.

“Moon Frog will agree with me, we hate him. Probably enough to hex him daily,” Blaise laughed.

“I’m going to make some tea,” Harry said instead. “Should I just fix a pot?”

“I think that would be nice, Harry,” Hermione said with a gentle smile as Harry rose to the small kitchenette.

A few minutes later he was levitating a loaded tray back to their corner, just as Pansy and Luna walked in. Harry smirked as he noticed more than one marked neck.

“How’s Moon Frog?” Pansy asked as Harry set the tray on their table.

“Fine, he’s in the shower,” Harry said as he fixed a cup for Draco. He cast a Stasis Charm at it, making sure it would stay fresh and hot for Draco’s appearance, and then fixed his own.

“Just making sure he wasn’t off murdering Seamus, that’s what I would be doing,” Pansy said. Harry gave her a flat look and she raised a hand in surrender.

“Seamus is by the fireplace, he isn’t being murdered,” Hermione said with subtle gesture. Harry didn’t look, as Blaise and Pansy both craned their necks.

“What are we looking at?” Draco asked, as he sat down next to Harry. He followed the gaze of the other Slytherins. “Oh. Tosser.”

“So, how much do we hate him? Can I hex him?” Pansy asked as Blaise leaned in.

“We can’t, Pans, he’ll figure out who Moon Frog is,” Blaise said with a frown. “Unless we’re extra sneaky about it.”

“I already hexed him,” Draco said, appearing perfectly composed. “Also, he knows I’m Moon Frog. I got a little possessive earlier.”

Harry laughed at Draco’s understating, as Draco lifted the charm from his tea.

“So, are we Obliviating him?” Pansy asked as Hermione froze. Harry cast a look her way, as she gave him a shake of her head.

Over the holiday, Hermione and Harry had gone to Australia for a few days. They had tracked down Hermione’s parents with the help of a clever finding spell Hermione had found in the library. They had flown on four muggle planes to cross the ocean and majority of land. The rest of the time they had Apparated. Eventually the spell had led them to a small ‘station’, where the Granger’s were now raising cattle.

Hermione had raised teary eyes to his, grabbing his hand, as she saw her father running a tractor.

“Oh, God, Harry, I didn’t think it would be like this,” Hermione had said. “He has a bad back, how much manual labor has he been doing?”

“C’mon, ‘Mione, it’s going to be alright.” Harry had said, squinting in the Australian summer sun.

Hermione had squared her shoulders and walked up the dirt drive, dragging Harry along behind her. She had knocked on the door briskly, as they waited silently. The flaked paint had distracted Harry, and he had picked at it with his free hand.

The door had been opened by Hermione’s mum, and Harry had snatched his hand back.

“Finite Incantatum!” Hermione had said quickly, waving her wand frantically.

“I’m so sorry dear, are you alright?” Hermione’s mum had asked after she had blinked in confusion. Hermione had raised tortured eyes to his and Harry had jumped in with the story Hermione had prepared.

“We’re so sorry to bother you, but we were just wondering if you had a phone we could borrow? Our car called quits on us a little bit down the road and you’re the first house we’ve come to.” Harry had said.

“Brits?” Hermione’s mum had asked with a bright smile, as she opened the door wide. “Anything for fellow countrymen.”

“Thank you, you’re too kind,” Hermione said softly. Harry followed Hermione into the bright cozy home.

“The phone is just through there,” Mrs. Granger had said, as she pointed the way. “What brings you to Sydney?”

“Escaping an English winter,” Hermione had lied as Harry picked up the phone and pretended to dial out.

“Isn’t this country beautiful?” Mrs. Granger agreed as Harry told nobody about the non-existent car troubles.

Hermione had made small talk with her mother as Harry quietly hung up the phone. “All done here,” he had said as he turned to face the two Granger women. Their faces were so similar that Harry had had no idea how Mrs. Granger had failed to recognize her daughter.

After they had gotten back to Hogwarts, Harry had spent the remainder of the holiday break sleeping in Hermione’s room, comforting her as much as she allowed. Kai had been thrilled with the heartbreak, though Harry hadn’t told Hermione that.

“Hey guys, do you mind if I sit?” Seamus asked, snapping Harry back to the present. “I went to the loo and now Dean is in my seat.”

Harry felt Draco tense as everyone darted glances between the two. “It’s fine,” Draco said with a magnanimous wave. Seamus levitated a vacant armchair over, smiling nervously at the group. Just as he went to sit down, he jumped back up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Seamus exclaimed.

“Stinging Hex,” Luna said sweetly, as everyone stared at her in shock. “What? I’d do worse if someone snogged Pansy behind my back.”

“Wait, Luna, you and Pansy?” Seamus asked quietly, as he gingerly sat down.

“Yes, Luna and Pansy,” Pansy snapped with a threatening brandish of her wand.

“Sorry, I didn’t know,” Seamus said, rubbing his thigh.

“You’ve been wrapped up in Dean and trying to seduce Harry all last term, so that’s understandable,” Blaise said sharply.

“Are all of you this mean?” Seamus asked a bit desperately.

“Yes, all of us,” Hermione said with a pointed look. “Toughen up or sit somewhere else.”

“Fine,” Seamus said, settling in his seat just as Dean walked up.

“Hey, Seamus, can we talk?” Dean asked quietly.

“No,” Seamus said, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Dean, you should probably leave,” Blaise said icily. “We don’t take kindly to cheaters here.”

“Yeah, nothing is worse than a cheater,” Pansy said with a vicious smile. “Except the people that try to make others cheat.”

Dean and Seamus jumped at the same time as Stinging Hexes hit them both.

“I’m sorry!” Seamus said with a groan. “Look, it was a mistake.”

“What was a mistake?” Dean asked in confusion.

“Oh, Seamus snogged Harry, didn’t you hear? Moon Frog is very upset. Seamus should probably expect a few hexes a day for a while. And you shagged someone else, so everyone hates you.” Draco said with a smirk.

“You snogged Harry?” Dean asked Seamus, choking on the words.

“At least I didn’t shag someone else,” Seamus said loudly as he leapt to his feet.

“Bloody hell, Seamus, I told you, that didn’t mean anything!” Dean shouted. “And the first thing you do is snog the bloke you’ve had your eye on all year?”

“At least I didn’t shag him!” Seamus yelled back.

“You know what, I can’t even look at you right now,” Dean said as he turned to leave.

“What makes you think I want you to look at me, you cheating bastard?” Seamus shouted as Dean left the room.

“I’m not sure, but it probably has to do with the fact that you’re basically chasing him from the room,” Hermione observed.

“Or the fact that you went for what would hurt him most,” Pansy noted.

“Bloody fuck,” Seamus said. “How can I still love him when he hurt me so badly?”

Harry started laughing uproariously, Draco joining in easily. The rest of the table chuckled sheepishly, as though trying not to offend Harry and Draco.

“Look, love is complicated and messy. Everyone makes mistakes. All that matters is whether or not you think it’s still worth the work.” Harry said seriously.

“Would you forgive Moon Frog if he shagged someone else?” Seamus asked Harry, his eyes intent.

“I love him more than anything.” Harry said thoughtfully. “I would at least listen to his side. Not that I’m giving Moon Frog free reign to sleep around.” Harry directed the last sentence at Draco.

“Fuck, I suppose I need to talk to Dean,” Seamus said wearily, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

Chapter Text

Draco woke to something sharp hitting him in the face.
“Harry, what”-

Draco opened his eyes to see Harry thrashing around, the only thing keeping him from hitting Draco with another elbow was the fact that he was helplessly tangled in the amethyst sheets.

“Harry, wake up,” Draco murmured soothingly, attempting to rub Harry’s back. “C’mon, you’re having a bad dream.”

“No,” Harry sobbed, his free arm flailing wildly. “No… I can’t… Please...”

“Harry,” Draco said louder. “Harry, wake up!”

Harry jerked violently, his entire body shuddering, and Draco promptly began to panic.

“Harry?! Harry!” Draco exclaimed in fear; he didn’t know what to do. The only thing he could think of might be dangerous when someone was unconscious instead of Stunned. Harry gave another full body quake, almost like a seizure, and Draco made an abrupt decision. “Fuck, Rennervate!”

Harry’s eyes popped open and Draco released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Harry stopped floundering, as Draco tried to straighten the sweaty bedding. He rubbed Harry’s arm slowly, as Harry scrubbed his eyes. Silently, he pulled a trembling Harry onto him, rubbing his back comfortingly. Harry was stiff and shaking for a while, as Draco felt hot tears drip onto his chest. Slowly, Harry relaxed against him, and his breathing evened out.

“Do you want me to get you some tea, darling?” Draco said softly.

“Please,” Harry said in a raspy voice as he nodded into Draco’s chest.

“Alright, I’ll be right back,” Draco got up and cast a Warming Charm at the bed, as he left the room.

When he got to the Common Room, he was surprised to find it wasn’t empty. Blaise stood in front of the kettle, fidgeting with a couple of mugs.

“Add two more?” Draco asked as he walked up beside his anxious friend.

“Harry?” Blaise whispered as he pulled down the cups.

“Yeah, Hermione?” Draco asked quietly with a nod to the original mugs, poking his wand at the kettle to double the water.

“Mmhmm,” Blaise agreed, scrubbing his face. “She’s had nightmares every night since we got back from holiday.”

Draco shuddered at that, Blaise must be going spare with worry and lack of sleep. Then he thought back, every night Harry had spent in Draco’s room, he had had nightmares. Was Harry having them on his own and not telling him? It would be just like the insufferable prat to be in pain and not ask him for help.

Draco hands started shaking as he pulled out the cream and sugar.

“You alright there?” Blaise asked him with a yawn.

“Yeah, just tired. Does Hermione want milk or sugar?” Draco asked instead. He fixed the mugs to everyone’s taste as Blaise poured.

“See you in the morning,” Blaise said softly as Draco nodded his goodbye. They went in opposite directions, Blaise heading to the girl’s dorms and Draco to the boy’s.

Draco crept through the sleepy hallway, trying not to wake anyone else. He glided back into his room, closed the door quietly, and let the lock softly slide home.

Harry was propped up in bed, staring at the wall vacantly. Draco handed him his tea and then crawled into the bed beside him.

They sat side by side as Draco absently ran a palm along Harry’s thigh. Draco waited until Harry had finished his tea, taking both of their mugs, and setting them on the small wooden table next to Harry’s eyeglasses.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco said as they both slid down the headboard.

“I don’t really know what to say, love, it was just another nightmare.” Harry said tiredly, nestling into Draco’s neck.

Draco ran his fingernails along Harry’s back and scalp, alternating with rubbing circles into Harry’s tense muscles. Harry moaned lightly, shifting slightly to wrap his leg more securely around Draco’s hips.

“Go back to sleep, darling, I’ll be right here,” Draco said quietly. He kept scratching Harry’s back, until Harry’s breathing deepened enough to assure him Harry was asleep. He wriggled slightly, pulling Harry tighter against himself and slowly let himself drift back to slumber.

…

The next morning Draco woke to Harry rubbing his pectoral with a free hand.

“Mmmm? Harry?” Draco slurred, not bothering to open his heavy eyes.

“Expecting someone else, love?” Harry chuckled, bucking his hips forward ever so slightly, causing Draco to notice Harry’s morning erection pressed to his hip.

Harry’s fingers found Draco’s scarred nipple and gave a slight pinch. Draco moaned, his entire body breaking out in gooseflesh. He didn’t know why Harry was so voracious lately, but Harry had taken to seducing him every time they woke in his bed. Regardless of the reasoning, Draco was growing to love their morning shags.

“Mmmm, feels nice,” Draco mumbled, turning his head, as Harry dragged his thigh across Draco’s hardening prick. Harry shifted slightly, pulling their hips even closer together, as he leaned over Draco to grab his wand. He pointed it at each of their mouths and Draco finally felt comfortable pulling Harry down for a deep snog. Harry’s wand landed on the floor with a clatter as Draco abruptly flipped them both over, forcing Harry on bottom, his thighs wrapped around Draco’s hips.

“What time is it?” Draco asked huskily, as he lightly nibbled the bronze throat beneath him.

“We have some time,” Harry responded breathily, arching up.

“You’re sure?” Draco said, as he pulled off his shirt. “What if I want to take my time?”

“We have plenty of time,” Harry amended in a gasp, as Draco pulled Harry’s shirt off too. “It’s Sunday, no classes.”

Draco attacked Harry’s throat again, sucking harshly to bring a deep bruise out. Seeing Harry in public, covered in his markings, was an incredible power rush that Draco was sure he would never get over.

No one knew who was with Harry, yet everyone knew that somebody was keeping Harry Bloody Potter well satisfied. Draco was fiercely proud of the fact that Harry walked the halls of Hogwarts with his love bites unabashedly on display.

Now, Draco felt Harry bite a mark into the scars spanning his own torso. Instead of succumbing to that pleasure as he sometimes did, he merely ignored it. He focused instead on Harry beneath him.

“Take these off,” Draco said, tugging on the drawstring to Harry’s pajamas. He rolled off of Harry for a brief moment to shuck his own and returned after Harry had tossed his trousers across the room. Their erections touched and Draco saw Harry shiver. He ground down for a few moments, trying to decide what it was he wanted to do this morning as Harry scrabbled his fingers along Draco’s spine.

“What do you want, love?” Harry asked, futilely trying to push his hips upward. Draco continued to mouth along Harry’s trapezoid.

“I think first I want to suck you.” Draco whispered hoarsely into the shell of Harry’s ear. “Then I want to shag you from behind. Does that sound alright to you?”

Harry whinged, nodding helplessly. Draco smirked, as he slowly lowered his mouth along Harry’s chest. He laved sloppy kisses down Harry’s chest, happily following the trail of heavy, dark hair lower and lower. He reached Harry’s thick prick and took hold with his hand. Slowly, he pumped his fist as his tongue darted forward to lick a broad stripe up the shaft.

Harry tasted salty, earthy, and incredibly addictive. Draco gripped Harry’s hips, as he bobbed his head lower. He opened his throat, letting Harry’s thick prick go even deeper. Harry thrust up a few times before Draco decided to move on. He tapped Harry’s hip with a finger, trying to get his attention.

Responding to the nonverbal request, Harry Summoned the lube and handed it to him. Draco pulled off for a moment, to slick his fingers, before taking Harry back into his mouth.

Watching for his reaction, Draco slowly slid a single finger along Harry’s crease. He rubbed teasingly, not penetrating Harry, waiting for Harry to realize what he wanted.

Harry whined, high in his throat, “please.”

Draco pushed past the ring of muscle, gently rocking his finger back and forth, each time going deeper and deeper. He found the bundle of nerves that was Harry’s prostate and rubbed it as Harry pushed against him.

He pushed in a second finger, sucking Harry harshly to try and distract him from any discomfort. When he felt Harry relax, he scissored his fingers. He maintained that for a moment, letting Harry enjoy himself. Eventually he decided to get back to business, and slowly added a third finger.

He stilled his hand, letting Harry adjust as he swirled his tongue around the head of Harry’s thick cock. As Harry moaned encouragement, Draco touched that wonderful nub of nerves again.

“Please, Draco, I’m ready,” Harry groaned, and Draco felt his cock throb in excitement.

“Turn over,” Draco said in a raspy voice as he pulled his fingers free. Harry whinged again and hastened to comply. “On your knees.”

Draco poured more lube onto his hand, slathering his prick as he gave a couple of opening tugs. As soon as Harry was situated, Draco leaned back, admiring the view. Harry was unabashedly on display for him, needy and desperate.

“Draco, please, please fuck me,” Harry said.

Merlin help him if he didn’t nearly come on the spot. Nothing was more arousing than Harry begging for him to do exactly what he was about to do.

He shuffled forward on his knees, and carefully lined himself up. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he pushed his cock into his messy haired boyfriend.

Once he was fully encased in the tight heat that was Harry’s arse, he stilled, trying desperately not to move. He rubbed circles into Harry’s hips, urging him to relax. Harry slid forward marginally and then pushed back, letting Draco know it was okay to move. Gently he pulled out slightly, and then pushed back in. He repeated the movements, reaching a hand around to grasp Harry’s prick.

Wanking Harry in time with his own small thrusts, he soon had Harry moaning and pushing back beneath him.

“Harder, please Draco,” Harry said huskily, “fuck, fuck me harder.”

Draco took him at his word and abandoned his restraint. He released Harry’s cock, to take a better grip on Harry’s hips. He pushed forward, pulling Harry’s hips back to meet his own.

A steady stream of encouragements and needy moans spilled from Harry’s mouth, urging Draco on relentlessly. He thrust again and again, losing himself in the sensation of being inside Harry.

He made the mistake of looking down, and the sight of his own prick going into Harry’s gorgeous arse almost made him lose complete control.

Instead, he wrapped his arms under Harry’s chest, pulling his torso up. In one fluid motion, he leaned back, sitting on his heels, and pulled Harry onto his lap.

Harry stuttered in surprise at the change of position, but soon was bouncing himself up and down Draco’s cock. Draco wrapped a hand around Harry’s prick, wanking him roughly.

“Harry,” Draco groaned, biting the back of Harry’s shoulder.

“Yes, love, I’m close, fuck you feel so good.” Harry babbled. Draco felt Harry’s passage tighten and groaned in relief. Harry’s come spurted between his fingers and Harry slammed down on his cock.

His orgasm crashed over him, washing him of every spare thought and worry.

Harry pulled off of Draco, breathing heavily. They fell forward in exhaustion, their limbs going weak.

“That was brilliant,” Harry said, flopping over to stare at Draco.

“Brilliant?” Draco asked with a smirk, he wasn’t above fishing for a compliment. He raised a shaky hand to drag Harry towards him.

“Brilliant,” Harry said again with a sloppy kiss to Draco’s collarbone.

Draco held Harry tightly, placing gentle kisses to the famous scar and surrounding skin.

“We need to get up, it must almost be lunchtime,” Draco said with a groan.

“Do we have to? We could just spend the day in bed,” Harry suggested with a blissed-out smile.

“We have to, we have that paper due in History of Magic tomorrow,” Draco said softly, rubbing Harry’s back.

“I need to talk to ‘Mione anyway,” Harry said, still grinning.

“Ah, yes, the Sunday-evening-friendship-meeting,” Draco said, smiling gently at the unmanageable mop in his arms.

“Hey, she’s my best mate,” Harry said with a poke to Draco’s ribs.

“Ouch! I wasn’t complaining, I was teasing, there’s a difference.”

“You don’t actually mind, do you?” Harry asked a bit hesitantly.

“Of course, I don’t,” Draco said. “It gives me a chance to tell Pansy all about our sex life anyway.”

“Wait, you don’t actually talk to her about that, do you?” Harry asked worriedly.

“No, darling, I don’t.” Draco said with a laugh. “Though she does ask. We probably shouldn’t do another Truth or Dare game with her, she’s very curious.”

“Thank god Hermione doesn’t ask me about that, I’d die of mortification,” Harry said as he got up and pulled on his pants.

“What do you guys talk about?” Draco asked, casually mirroring Harry’s movements.

“Not much,” Harry said evasively, as Draco came up behind him to slide his arms around Harry’s waist.

“Does it have anything to do with the fact that Hermione has had nightmares every night? I met Blaise in the Common Room last night. He’s worried,” Draco felt Harry shift guiltily. “Have you had nightmares every night?”

“Er, yeah,” Harry mumbled as Draco tightened his arms around Harry’s stomach.

“Bollocks, Harry, we’ve been back for two weeks,” Draco said, chagrined.

“Kai helps, when I sleep alone.”

“That’s it. From now on I’m sleeping in your room,” Draco said.

“Draco, you know Kai hates it when we shag near her,” Harry said, leaning his head back.

“I wasn’t talking about shagging. I was talking about sleeping.” Draco growled into Harry’s neck. “We’ll sleep in your room on weeknights and mine on weekends.”

“You sure? You might not get a decent night’s sleep for a while,” Harry said softly.

Draco had to resist the urge to shake him. “I’m sure.”

“Okay then,” Harry said, turning around and breaking into a broad smile. “I’d like that.”

“Are you going to tell me why you and Hermione are having so many nightmares again?”

“We found ‘Mione’s parents,” Harry said softly.

“She didn’t know where they were?” Draco asked in confusion.

“No, she Obliviated them during the war, to keep them safe. She knew Voldemort would target them, if they stayed in the country,” Harry said as Draco shuddered. “We tracked them down and she tried to lift the enchantment. It didn’t work.”

Draco marveled at the dedication and foresight of one he had been taught was beneath him. He never would have had the courage to do that to his own parents.

“No wonder she’s upset. Maybe she should talk to Blaise about it though, he’s going a bit mad.”

“I’ll mention it,” Harry said quietly. “I don’t think I’m really helping anyway. She said she now knows what it’s like to be an orphan and I got a bit angry. I know she just wanted a bit of sympathy, but she really has no idea. Her parents might not know who she is, but at least they’re alive and well.”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Draco said, pulling his boyfriend even closer.

“It’s fine,” Harry said with a nuzzle into Draco’s chest. “Hopefully, Blaise can help her more than I can.”

“Thank you, I’m sure Blaise will appreciate it. And thank you for telling me,” Draco said, squeezing a laugh out of Harry.

“C’mon now, you should go to the Common Room,” Draco said, after he submitted to Harry’s enthusiastic kisses covering his face and throat. “I’m going to head for a shower. I’ll see you in a bit.”

They finished dressing and Harry covered himself in his Cloak. They exited at the same time, Harry going into his room just as Draco opened the door to the loo.

Draco took his time, luxuriating in the hot water. His hair potions wrapped him in a steamy cloud of citrus and he inhaled deeply. Bubbles slid down his skin, and he made a mental note to brew more of his face potion. He could owl order more, but there were a few variations he wanted to try to alter the texture of the potion.

He switched off the taps, mind still on the ways to alter his potion without sacrificing the wonderful scent of it. He toweled off in the stall, getting dressed before exiting, as he always did.

Blaise was standing next to the sink when he got out.

“Draco, fancy meeting you here,” Blaise said, pretending to stare at his perfect complexion in the mirror.

“Hmm, fancy that,” Draco said, sliding up to a sink near his dark-skinned friend. He pulled on the brown cuff Harry had gifted him, before pulling out his hair potion.

He lathered up his hands, drawing his fingers through his damp blond strands. He mussed his hair carefully, feeling Blaise’s eyes on his neck.

“Can I help you?” Draco asked, glancing at Blaise while picking up his wand.

“Actually,” Blaise began, and Draco flicked his wand to start it blowing a consistent stream of hot air.

Draco smirked to himself as he could feel the frustration emanating off of Blaise. He kept drying his hair, the noise drowning out any conversation Blaise wanted to have. Finally, his hair was as dry as he could get it, and he flicked his wand again.

“Very funny,” Blaise said with a roll of his eyes.

“You cornered me after my shower, you deserved it.” Draco said, twisting his hair into a knot at the base of his skull. He tucked his wand in it to secure it and leaned back to look at the results. The hairstyle worked, and his blue robes complemented his glowing skin. He nodded to himself, before turning to see his profile.

“So, do you know what’s going on with Hermione?” Blaise asked quietly. Draco appreciated Blaise not mentioning Harry’s name and so capitulated much earlier than he usually would have.

“I do,” Draco said, still gazing at his reflection. He made a slight adjustment to his collar. “You should talk to her.”

“Bollocks, she’s going to break up with me, isn’t she?” Blaise asked. “She can’t even sleep next to me anymore. I feel like the more I try and help her, the more she pulls away.”

“It really isn’t my place to say, but no one said anything about her leaving you.” Draco said, abandoning the pretense of staring at his reflection.

“You’re sure?” Blaise asked anxiously, his eyes searching Draco’s.

“As far as I know, she’s just going through a rough patch,” Draco said seriously. “Talk to her.”

“When did you get so wise?” Blaise asked with a weak smile.

“About the time I stopped listening to the adults in my life,” Draco deadpanned.

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” Blaise said with a grimace.

They left the bathroom together, stopping only to toss his toiletries into his room. They strolled into the Common Room, nonchalantly walking over to their corner.

“Hey, just in time for lunch!” Luna said happily, as she was the first to catch sight of them.

“Let’s go down then,” her girlfriend said with a smile. It turned feral as Pansy saw Seamus passing. She jabbed her wand at the Irishman’s retreating back. He jumped and turned around.

“Are you ever going to let it go?” Seamus asked as all three former Slytherins smirked.

“And give up a chance to hex a Gryffindor? No way,” Pansy said coolly, as Harry barked a laugh.

“Ridiculous,” Hermione said with a tight smile. Blaise rubbed her back comfortingly. Draco saw her shift slightly, and Blaise’s hand fell away. He didn’t think anyone else noticed the exchange between the two, and he frowned to himself.

They walked through the stone halls, as Draco covertly watched Blaise and Hermione. Now that he was aware of it, the tension between the two was unmistakable. It was almost uncomfortable to walk near them, as Hermione subtly flinched every time Blaise moved too close to her.

They soon found themselves in the Great Hall, sitting at the eighth year table. Draco sat between Pansy and Blaise, as Harry and Hermione sat opposite. Suddenly Draco realized Harry had been sitting with Hermione almost every meal since the beginning of term.

What in the name of Merlin had caused her to be so suddenly withdrawn? Was she regretting taking up with a Slytherin now that she had faced her parents? Had it made the war too real again for both Hermione and Harry?

The meal passed almost silently as Luna chatted away about the end of Nargle season and how she had yet again failed to catch one.

“Harry,” a small voice said behind him, “can we talk?”

Draco knew that voice, he was sure of it. He looked up to see the Weaselette staring beseechingly at Harry.

“Whatever you have to say, you can say to me here.” Harry said with a lift to his chin. Draco smirked to himself.

“Look, Mum tore strips out of me over the holiday. I was wretched to you. I’m so sorry I treated you the way I did and that I told stories to the papers.” Ginny said as Harry looked unimpressed. “Look, Harry, I really am sorry. I was a prat.”

“You were,” Harry said flatly, as Hermione grabbed his hand tightly. Draco stared at their clasped hands, wishing desperately he could be the one to publicly comfort Harry. Ginny fidgeted uncomfortably, not leaving. “Was there something else?”

“I know it’s not really my place, but Ron was wondering if you got his letter. He got Hermione’s reply but not yours.” Ginny said with a flush. Kai hissed at her, flaring her throat and spitting.

“You’re right, it isn’t your place.” Harry said, raising a hand to hold Kai to his shoulder.

Draco felt Pansy and Blaise freeze on either side of him, as he himself stiffened at those words. He could feel the exact moment his upbringing kicked in and his own mask slipped over his features as he kept his face blank.

Ron had written to Harry and Hermione? Was that why Hermione was acting oddly towards Blaise? Was she considering going back to Ron, even though he had cheated on her? Why hadn’t Harry told him Ron had written. Was he planning on replying?

If these were the thoughts going through his own mind, he couldn’t imagine what was going on behind Blaise’s calm façade. He maintained his composure, as the unspoken rule of Slytherin ran through his mind. Serpents never showed weakness in public.

Draco silently continued eating his meal, his movements as crisp as the purebloods on either side of him. He could feel Harry’s eyes on him and instead turned to Pansy as she spoke to him.

“Can we talk, after lunch?” She asked quietly.

“Of course, Blaise, your room?” Draco asked.

“Say ten minutes?” Blaise said, as he took a graceful sip of pumpkin juice.

“Blaise, look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Ron,” Hermione said, watching them with a confused look in her eye.

“It doesn’t matter,” Blaise said with a flutter of his hand. The rest of the meal passed painfully silent as Harry and Hermione kept making worried faces at each other.

Draco, Pansy, and Blaise all finished at the exact same moment, lowering their cutlery in unison. Draco and Blaise rose, and Draco held his hand out to help Pansy up.

Pansy turned back for a single moment, “I’ll meet up with you later.”

Luna nodded dreamily, her chin on her hand. As soon as they started walking away, Draco heard Harry ask Hermione what the bloody hell was happening.

“You’re both in so much trouble,” was Luna’s cheerful response.

The three of them walked silently through the halls, taking the staircases necessary to reach their Common Room. Draco felt a minor hex deflect off of him as they passed a young group of Gryffindors and made a mental note to renew the charms on his necklace. Maybe he could get Harry to add it to his cuffs. Then he remembered how annoyed he was and decided to handle it himself.

Blaise began pacing as soon as the door to his room was shut. Draco and Pansy sat quietly on the bed.

“She’s been writing to Ron.” Blaise said torturously, as he frowned at the floor.

“Did she not tell you?” Pansy asked.

“No, did you know, Draco?” Blaise asked.

“Harry didn’t even tell me Ron wrote him, let alone that Hermione’s been writing back.” Draco said, holding his annoyance in check.

“I’m hexing them both,” Pansy said with a smirk.

A knock came to the door, the three of them glancing at each other.

“Two sickles it’s Harry,” Pansy bet.

“You’re on,” Draco said. He was sure Harry would be more subtle than knocking on Blaise’s door.

Blaise opened the door to reveal a distraught looking Hermione. Draco flung a smirk at Pansy as she scowled at the floor.

“Can we talk?” Hermione asked softly. Draco felt Blaise’s discomfort, though his posture remained as proud and upright as before. “We can go to my room?”

“Of course,” Blaise said politely, following her from the room.

“What’s the odds she’s throwing him over for the freckled member of the Golden Trio?”

“Not touching that one,” Draco said. “He’d murder us if he found out we bet on that.”

“Fair point,” Pansy said with a smile.

“Well, should we get back?”

“Er, actually, Draco, can we talk?” Pansy asked nervously.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, watching her face carefully.

“Are you still sure you want to get married?” Pansy asked quietly.

“What?” Draco asked, shocked.

“It just seems to be going so well with you and Harry, and me and Luna.”

“Pansy, if we don’t get married, my mother isn’t going to let me see a knut of my inheritance. I have no job, and no other way to make a living.”

“What if Harry wants to publicly be with you?” Pansy asked gently.

Draco barked a laugh. “Pansy, you think I could possibly be out with the Chosen One? I’d ruin any chance he has of getting his own job after school. Could you imagine the headlines the Prophet would run if they even found out we were in a relationship? And his family is all dead, remember? No one can help support him. But if you and I get married, I can help him if he needs it.”

“I didn’t think of that,” Pansy said slowly.

“Besides, what would your father say if we broke things off? He’d probably disown you too and then all three of us would be on the streets.” Draco shook his head, displeased with how the world worked.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Pansy said, her eyes just slightly shinier. He rubbed her shoulder comfortingly.

“Come on, let’s go back to the Common Room.” Pansy nodded at him and they parted ways for a few minutes as Draco went to his room for his book bag.

They spent the afternoon writing essays as Harry kept sliding Draco covert notes asking how he was. Draco ignored them all, steadily finishing his essay and then turning to his Arithmancy paper. He was working on a particularly difficult question when Blaise and Hermione returned to the Common Room.

Draco took one look at them and smirked to himself. It looked like they had worked out the Ron problem, as Hermione sank into their purple couch. She pulled a cream white rug onto her lap, leaning against Blaise’s shoulder.

“Hermione, can you help me with this?” Draco asked, as Harry yet again pushed a small note his way. He leaned forward, letting the note fall off of his lap as if he hadn’t seen it.

“What is it?” Hermione asked cheerfully.

Draco pushed his homework at her, pointing at the relevant problem with his quill.

“Oh, yes, that was a difficult one,” Hermione said, waving her wand slightly. Her book bag came zooming into the room. She rifled through it for a few moments before handing Draco a roll of parchment.

Draco unraveled it, skimming until he got to the relevant information. He scanned Hermione’s neat quillwork and the answer soon made sense.

“Thank you,” he said as he rerolled the parchment and handed it back.

“Hey, you never let me copy!” Harry exclaimed in irritation.

“Draco isn’t copying, he’s learning. Did you see him write anything down?” Hermione said.

“Well, no,” Harry began.

“It’s time for dinner,” Pansy interjected.

Draco finished his notations, carefully saving his place as he stacked his things into his bag. Sunday nights after dinner were reserved as group social time. Usually Harry and Hermione spent the time between lunch and supper together in Harry or Hermione’s room, and then after dinner the entire eighth year would relax in pajamas and eat sweets.

Everyone in eighth year rose to enchant their school bags to go back to their individual rooms, using a clever spell Pansy had known. Heavy books zoomed through the Common Room as everyone stood still to allow the bags to weave past them.

Draco felt Harry try to glide a finger across the back of his hand and stepped aside, earning himself a clout to the ribs from a passing bag. He almost shuddered, a sure-fire way to earn himself a few more clips. Instead he merely breathed, trying to keep himself still for the next few minutes.

The last of the bags to leave was Neville’s, trailing parchment and banging into walls as everyone nearby ducked.

After dinner was the resultant evening of relaxation, in which Draco refused to acknowledge Harry’s frequently increasing demands for attention. Eventually Harry excused himself to go to bed. Draco waited the requisite ten minutes before following, Hermione smiling at him as he left.

Draco noticed Seamus and Dean speaking quietly in a corner, Dean leaning forward to trail his fingers down Seamus’s arm. Seamus saw Draco staring at him and flinched, though Draco made no move to hex him. He had promised Harry he wouldn’t, after all.

Draco knocked on Harry’s door quietly, slipping in when he didn’t hear a response. He saw Kai in her tank, but no Harry. Draco assumed that meant Harry had gone for a wash and so made himself comfortable in his usual spot on Harry’s bed. They hadn’t attempted to sleep in Harry’s room since that first abortive night, but in his own room he always took the right side.

Eventually, the door cracked open and Harry entered his room.

“Draco?” Harry whispered in surprise.

“Expecting someone else?” Draco whispered back, flinging their usual wards at the door.

“I just didn’t think you’d sleep here tonight; you haven’t talked to me since lunch,” Harry said, sitting on the edge of the bed tentatively.

“Well, yes, because I’m angry with you. Were you ever going to tell me Ron wrote to you?” Draco snapped.

“Er, yeah? I just was waiting until I decided if I was going to write him back or not.” Harry said shamefacedly.

“And your nightmares, were you going to tell me about them?” Draco asked sharply.

Harry slowly shook his head. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“Bollocks, Harry, you need to tell me these things. I don’t deserve finding out from other people that your best mate sent you a letter and you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks.” Draco said as Kai raised herself up and hissed from her tank. Harry hissed back at her, staring at Draco with wide eyes.

“Kai says you’re really angry,” Harry said softly.

“Yes, I told you I was,” Draco said impatiently.

“But you weren’t earlier, I asked Kai. She said you tasted sour, almost empty,” Harry said, still watching him carefully.

“Unlike you, I know there is a time and place to express my anger, and publicly is never my favourite.” Draco said succinctly.

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

Draco ran a distracted hand through his hair. “Can you please just promise to tell me these things, I want to be here for you, I want to help.”

“How would you have helped me decide about Ron?” Harry asked with a furrowed brow.

“Easy, you’re going to write to him.” Draco said. “He’s been your best mate for years. Even if your friendship doesn’t fully recover, you both deserve the chance to let it try. We lost so many people during the war, we need to try and keep the friends we still have.”

“You hate Ron though,” Harry said, picking at the corner of his blanket.

“You hated me just a year ago,” Draco said. “A lot can happen quickly. Especially in war time.”

“Hermione said something rather similar. She said I was being immature though.”

“That’s because she’s dead clever,” Draco said with a smirk. “Now, let’s work on your nightmares.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“You’re going to come here and I’m going to do what I like when I’m upset or stressed,” Draco said as he slid down the headboard and held out his arms for Harry to crawl in. Harry gave him a bright smile and tossed the duvet back to climb into bed.

Harry snuggled into his chest and Draco dragged his fingers along Harry’s scalp. “Now your only job is to relax and think of how you’re going to make it up to me,” Draco said with a smirk.

Harry leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on Draco’s lips. “Yes love.”

Chapter Text

Heat, all-encompassing heat, surrounded him. The clang of metal rang through the small vault as his skin was burned again and again. Hermione and Ron looked to him desperately as he shook with indecision. Goblets filled the room, as Luna smiled with pointed teeth.

“I don’t know what to do,” Harry moaned. “What should I do? Tell me what to do.”

Dumbledore’s face floated in front of him, “You need to die, Harry.”

“But I don’t want to die,” Harry cried, tears running hot tracks down his cheeks.

“It’s the only way to save Draco,” Hermione said, as Ron grabbed a goblet and burst into purple confetti.

“The only way?” Harry asked piteously. Hermione deliberately placed her hand on a goblet and turned dark green instead of her natural chocolate brown.

“Die, Harry, you have to die so Draco lives.” Pansy said as she pointed her wand at him. “Go now, the Dark Lord is waiting.”

The landscape changed, and Harry found himself back in the Forbidden Forrest. He stared at Voldemort, sweating with fear. He wanted to run, to hide; anything other than face the pale demon across the clearing.

“Remember, Harry, for Draco,” Hermione said, her olive skin blending in with the leaves behind her.

“For Draco,” Harry repeated blindly, his sight obscured with tears. He stood shakily, as a blurry Voldemort waved his wand.

“Avada Kedavra!” The curse hit him square in the chest as his eyes focused enough to see Draco in Death Eaters robes laugh at him.

“No!” Harry screamed, flinging out an arm to reach Draco as he fell to his knees. Draco wasn’t supposed to be a Death Eater, he was supposed to be saved. He tried desperately to stretch out, he just wanted to touch Draco one more time-

“Harry! Wake up!”

Harry moaned, shaking in fear.

“Harry, you’ve had a bad dream, please wake up!”

That was Draco’s voice, and he sounded scared. No, Harry had died so Draco would be free. He didn’t want Draco to be afraid. Something was shaking his shoulder as he thrashed desperately. He had to get to Draco, to save him.

“Ouch! Fine, Rennervate!” Draco said as Harry felt his eyes pop open.

“Draco?” Harry asked, breathing heavily, his eyes darting helplessly around his messy room.

“Yes, Harry, I’m here,” Draco said from above him. “Take a deep breath, good, now another.”

Harry felt Draco rub his sternum in a circular pattern. He took a few more shuddering breaths as he tried to forget how vivid the dream had felt.

“I’m sorry, love,” Harry said quietly.

“It’s fine,” Draco said softly. “I’ll be right back.” He got out of bed and pulled Kai from her tank. He handed the little white serpent to Harry, before stepping from the room.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered at Draco’s retreating back. He tried to reign in his erratic breathing as he swiped his sweaty fringe from his face.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself. The dream had felt so real, it had terrified him.

“What a wonderful way to awaken, you still in the deepest depths of despair and desperation. Can the pale one stay every dark?” Kai hissed as she wound around his wrist, helping him control his fear and sorrow.

“Only if you can tolerate our desire,” Harry gave a tired laugh at Kai’s vehement refusal. He had begun to suspect, for a while now, that she didn’t genuinely mind, she just wanted to be fussed over and feel important.

Soon the door reopened, and Draco slipped back in, carrying two mugs.

“Here you are,” Draco whispered as he handed Harry a mug. Draco set his own on the small bedside table. Harry took a few sips, Kai curling herself up in his lap.

As soon as Kai had eaten her fill and Harry felt better, Draco took her back and gently placed her on her favorite rock. Harry watched with sleepy eyes as Draco took back his spot beside him, tucking the blankets around his hips.

“Okay, darling, come here,” Draco said gently, laying back against the headboard.

“Mmmm,” Harry hummed peacefully, as he handed his mostly empty mug to Draco. Draco placed it next to his own on the small table. Draco threw an arm out as Harry tucked himself onto Draco’s chest. He snuggled into his boyfriend, throwing a leg over Draco’s thighs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asked.

“Not really, it just felt so real,” Harry whispered. “I had to die to save you.”

“I’m safe, you’re safe, the war is over.” Draco chanted as he caressed Harry’s back. “Feel better?” Draco asked eventually, as he placed a gentle kiss to his brow.

“Mmhmm,” Harry mumbled into Draco’s neck

“Go back to sleep.” Draco whispered as Harry felt himself slip back into slumber.

…

The next morning dawned cold and clear, the snow still covering the school grounds. Harry heard Draco’s alarm go off and groaned in displeasure as Draco gently pulled away.

“No, stay here, it’s warm here,” Harry mumbled, catching Draco’s arm, and trying to pull him back into bed.

“You have to let me go,” Draco said with a chuckle. “I can’t be seen leaving your room.”

“Or we could skive,” Harry said, rolling to pull Draco onto his chest.

“We can’t skive, it’s Defense today,” Draco said, pushing back against Harry’s pectorals. “Ergh, let me go, at least until I can breathe near the putrid miasma you call your morning breath.”

Harry chuckled, angling his face away from Draco. “Hand me my wand then.”

“Only if you let me go quickly,” Draco said instead. “Gwilt is finally letting us try the Patronus Charm today.”

“Excited?” Harry asked, as Draco straddled him and leaned over to fetch a wand. He felt the grain of Draco’s blackthorn in his hand and smiled slightly. Draco’s wand still responded to him beautifully.

“More like nervous,” Draco said as Harry cast the Mouth-Freshening Charm at each of them. “Death Eaters can’t cast a Patronus and I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“Hey, look at me,” Harry said, brushing a knuckle along Draco’s jaw. “You aren’t a Death Eater, you never were.”

“I was Marked,” Draco said seriously, his silver eyes arresting.

“Love, all of us were scarred by the war,” Harry responded, tugging on the back of Draco’s neck.

In one of his mercurial shifts of mood, Draco gave him a light peck and then moved off of the bed. Harry groaned in frustration.

“Come on, up you get,” Draco said, throwing a smirk over his shoulder.

“What if I just stay in bed all day?” Harry asked instead.

“Then you won’t want to sleep tonight, and I’ll have to stay in my own room,” Draco said with a leer.

“Fine!” Harry exclaimed as he tossed his duvet down. “Fine, I’m up.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed as Draco sidled back up to him. Draco pushed his knees between Harry’s, as Harry raised his hands to wind into the fine hairs on the back of Draco’s neck.

Draco gave him a deep kiss, as Harry opened his mouth willingly.

“I love you,” Harry said breathlessly as Draco released him, fully aware he had been manipulated into getting up.

“I love you too,” Draco said softly, before he crossed to Harry’s bureau. He pulled out clean pants and robes, piling them gently into a shower caddy.

The house elves had seemed to immediately know their sleeping arraignment and had already begun delivering most of Draco’s clean laundry to Harry’s room.

Harry watched as Draco lifted his leather cuffs, balancing the two between his hands. Eventually, Draco tossed the black one into his basket and Harry frowned. It seemed most days Draco wore the black, and he didn’t like to think of Draco being in pain that often.

Draco finished gathering his things as Harry pulled his robes on, yawning mightily. He tossed his Invisibility Cloak at Draco, chuckling when it hit Draco square in the face and Draco squawked in response. Harry gave Draco a smirk and then ruffled his own hair to make it even messier. He laughed again at Draco’s exasperated sigh.

Harry grabbed Kai, settling her onto her usual perch. She began to speak to him happily about how the day had barely started but she had already had a full meal. He hissed at her that she might not get much more, mindful that the morning was to be dedicated to happy thoughts.

Harry opened the door to his room feeling Draco’s breath on his neck. Harry felt Draco slip past and casually pinched his invisible bum.

He grinned at Draco’s silent shock and kept walking to the Common Room. He sat alone, being the first ready usually meant he had to wait for everyone else. He didn’t particularly mind, as he pulled a couple of pieces of parchment towards himself.

He quilled a few short letters, remembering Draco’s advice from the other day. There were only so many people left that he could count as living after the war. He gave himself a brief moment to mourn his losses, Kai hissing happily at him.

He was shaken from his depressing thoughts by none other than Seamus, tentatively sitting across from him.

“Alright there?” Seamus asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just writing a few letters. What are you doing up so early?” Harry asked, thankful for the distraction.

“Need to send a letter to my mum, let her know Dean and I are back together,” Seamus said with a shy smile.

“Good for you guys,” Harry said, curious what had made Seamus forgive Dean but trying to respect that it wasn’t any of his business.

“Yeah, I like to think so,” Seamus said quietly. “We had a few good talks and sorted some things out.”

“What kind of talks?” Harry asked, giving into his burning curiosity as he usually did.

“Apparently he thought us looking for a threesome meant we weren’t exclusive. I only suggested the threesome to keep him interested, since Ginny had done so last year.” Seamus said with a flush. “We’ve agreed to be committed.”

“I’m happy for you,” Harry said, sealing the letters absently.

“Hey, do you want me to post those for you? I’m headed there anyway,” Seamus asked helpfully.

“Actually, mate, I really would.” Harry said feeling a wash of relief. “I haven’t been back to the owlery since Hedwig died.”

“Right-o then,” Seamus said, taking the letters from Harry. “See you at breakfast.”

Draco walked in just then, fresh from his shower, and sat next to Harry. “What was that about?”

“Seamus was just telling me that he and Dean are back together,” Harry said.

“Probably hoping I’ll tell Pansy to stop hexing him,” Draco said with a sneer.

“Will you?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“I never asked her to start. It’s just what friends do. But if you politely asked her to stop, she might consider it.” Draco said seriously.

“Why don’t you ask?” Harry said, as Blaise and Hermione walked in, hand-in-hand.

“Pansy has never done what anyone has told her to do. She’s entirely too much of a free spirit that way. But for you? In a moment.” Draco told him quietly.

“That makes no sense, she’s been your friend far longer than mine.” Harry said in confusion.

“Look at it this way, she was ready to start the year as the bint that tried to toss you to the Dark Lord. She was prepared to be hexed and shunned. Yet our first day back you forgave her. Since then you have been publicly friendly with her. You have protected and sheltered her in a way no one else could have. Not to mention you made her best mate exceptionally happy. She’d walk through fire for you, all you have to do is ask.”

“So, if she never does what anyone tells her, why are your parents able to make you two get married?” Harry whispered, hoping his voice feigned a casualness he didn’t feel.

“It’s more than just us two,” Draco said softly. “We have many reasons for choosing to enter into our marriage. The least concerning is our own personal happiness.”

Harry could feel his misery threaten to make itself known and was thankful when Pansy and Luna chose that moment to reach their corner.

“The pale one is in distress, he needs me,” Kai commanded, and Harry wordlessly placed her on Draco’s shoulder.

He pondered that as they left the Common Room. This was the first time Kai had indicated Draco was more upset about the marriage than he was. Was Draco genuinely upset about having to marry Pansy too? For some incomprehensible reason, that made him feel marginally better.

Soon they were all sitting in the Great Hall, and Harry pulled a couple platters of pancakes and sausages his way. He scooped some onto his plate, as Draco lifted a small forkful of a veggie omelet to his lips. For a moment, Harry allowed himself to be distracted by the sight Draco’s mouth opening. He knew the exact moment Draco noticed his focus as Draco’s movements became inexplicably sensual. Draco’s eyes smoldered as he licked his lips suggestively. Harry swallowed drily, frantically reaching for the pot of tea.

He poured for the both of them, mechanically making Draco’s exactly as he liked it, while Draco smirked.

He felt a gaze on his neck and looked up to see Dean staring at him, a questioning look in his eye. Harry’s stomach plummeted, ending up in the vicinity of his knees. Had Seamus told him it was Draco that was Moon Frog? He shifted away from Draco ever so slightly, as he realized their thighs had been touching.

Seamus in question was seated next to Dean, happily gossiping with the Patil twins.

“Hey Pansy,” Harry said in a slightly-too-loud voice. He felt the table go mostly quiet as he smiled at her. “I think Moon Frog and I would be thankful if you stopped hexing Seamus so much.”

Pansy watched him with a calculating expression on her face for a few moments. “If you both feel that way, I suppose I could be imposed upon enough to cease.”

“Thanks,” Harry said brightly. Draco toed his foot subtly. “I mean, I very much appreciate it.”

Luna started giggling helplessly, as Blaise shook his head. Harry chanced a glance down the table and saw Seamus whispering into Dean’s ear.

Soon they were all rising to head to Defense Against the Dark Arts. They trooped through the halls as Seamus caught up to Harry.

“Thanks,” was all he said as he hurried past, rejoining Dean’s side. Dean grabbed his hand and held it tightly. Harry tried not stare in jealousy and could feel himself failing spectacularly.

They reached the classroom and Harry was jolted from his thoughts by the gruff voice of Professor Gwilt. “Harry, front and center, if you would. Let’s show the class what a properly cast Patronus looks like.”

Harry almost rolled his eyes. Professor Gwilt had spent weeks preparing the class for Patronus’s, refusing to acknowledge that Harry had already taught over half the class how to cast them. In fact, the only members of class that hadn’t been in the Army were Lisa Turpin and the former Slytherins.

Harry dug deep, choosing the memory of waking with Draco in the Infirmary, hearing Draco say he loved him for the very first time. Draco’s hair had stuck out from his plait in the oddest angles, and the vulnerability in his eyes had made Harry's heart stutter. The crushed flowers were scattered on the pillowcase, their scent mixed with the aseptic smell of the Hospital Wing.

He held onto that image and let his body flood with the joy he had felt at someone wanting him enough to confront the headmistress herself.

“Expecto Patronum!” Harry shouted, waving his wand. He felt his magic swell through his core, along his arm, and pushing through his wand.

To the astonishment of the entire class, a stag did not erupt from Harry’s holly wand. Instead, a handsome, graceful swan flew around the room, before settling into a stately swim on invisible water. The luminous swan paddled once around Harry before slowly dissipating. Harry watched the swan’s progress along with everyone else, before raising wide eyes to Draco. Quickly Harry shifted his gaze as the greying Professor Gwilt boomed a congratulations to Harry for falling in love.

Most of the class stared at Harry at that, though Harry saw Pansy smirking at Draco out of the corner of his eye. The tension was finally broken as Seamus whooped and Dean clapped his hands loudly. Blaise gave a wolf whistle, and the rest of the class broke out into applause.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, his face heating.

“Alright, settle down,” Gwilt said. “Harry, help me walk around and let’s have everyone else take a shot.”

Hermione and Luna easily cast their enchantments, the silver otter and hare darting through the air. Ernie’s boar charged across the headspace, tossing its tusks back and forth. Gwilt looked on in astonishment as another four students produced flawless Patronus’s.

In all, only six of the eighteen students didn’t produce a Patronus that day.

“Starting next week, Harry will be working directly with the students that haven’t yet mastered the incantation as the others will join me and Professor McGonagall in leaning about defensive transfigurations, specifically glamour enchantments to alter your appearance,” Professor Gwilt said gruffly.

Harry waved a hand to catch the attention of the students assigned to him. “Alright, you lot, I don’t have afternoon classes most days, so if you want some extra pointers, just let me know. I know we’d all rather get it over with quickly, after learning the theory for so long.” Harry said pleasantly to the Slytherins, Lisa Turpin, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbott.

They left for lunch, after Hannah and Susan requested to meet him the following afternoon.

Harry poured the tea, as Draco served him up a plate of Sheppard’s Pie. He tucked in, taking a huge bite as Draco dished himself up a large plate too. This evening was castle restoration and they both needed any help they could get. Harry had continued to help Draco every Tuesday and Thursday, finding a deep sense of serenity from helping rebuild what had been broken. It was exhausting but they both found peace in the difficult work.

Lunch passed quickly and pleasantly, with Lisa leaning over to ask if she could join the next afternoon's tutoring session too. Harry agreed easily.

"Do you think we could meet with you on a separate day?" Pansy asked quietly, her eyes flicking to Draco and Blaise.

"Of course, what time do we all have off together?" Harry asked lowly.

"Saturday mornings?" Blaise suggested.

Everyone agreed, so Harry said, "I'll clear it with Gwilt to use the Defense classroom."

Soon, lunch was over and Hermione and Draco left to go to Arithmancy, while Blaise and Pansy had made plans to go to the village. Harry was reasonably sure they were going to get Valentine’s Day shopping done and so had elected to stay behind with Luna. He knew Draco wouldn’t go into the village and might have given his list to Pansy to purchase for him. Whatever the reason, Pansy and Blaise hadn’t exactly invited him along.

Harry didn’t mind though; he’d been wanting to talk to Luna for ages anyway.

Luna tucked her arm into his and rested her head against his shoulder as they walked to the Common Room together. Their footsteps echoed through the halls, as they eventually reached the portrait of Saudade.

For the first time in weeks, Saudade didn’t slide aside automatically for Harry. Instead his eyes became accusatory, and he frowned. Harry realized that he still had his arm around Luna, just as she gave Saudade a cheerful smile.

“Harry isn’t cheating on Draco, we’re friends,” Luna said happily, patting Saudade’s gilded frame.

Saudade gave a gravely grunt. “If I find out he is, he’ll have to find a new place to sleep.”

“I’m not!” Harry said quickly. “Luna is just a friend!”

Saudade stared at him a moment more before sliding to the side with a suspicious frown. Harry and Luna entered the Common Room together, heading to their usual spots.

They sank down on the emerald couch, as Luna seemed to sense his need for conversation. Harry cast a Muffliato to be sure of their privacy. A few other students streamed in the portrait opening.

“What is it, Harry?” Luna asked with an uncharacteristically serious look in her eyes.

“Er, I’m just wondering how you’re handling Pansy getting married to Draco?” Harry asked in a rush.

“Yes, I thought you’d be asking me about that sooner or later,” Luna said.

“You did?” Harry asked as he pulled a velvet pillow onto his lap.

“Well, yes, you look like someone’s kicked your crup every time he mentions the marriage.” Luna said with a light laugh.

“It hurts, to just think of him marrying someone else,” Harry said softly tugging on a tassel.

“Why? It’s still you he loves,” Luna said quietly.

“He’s publicly declaring his commitment to someone else,” Harry whispered. “What if I want that for myself?”

“Do you want to marry Draco?”

“No! Maybe? No! At least not for a while! But I’d like the option?” Harry babbled in confusion.

“Is marriage important to you?” Luna asked gently.

“Yeah, I think it is,” Harry replied, after a moment spent regaining his composure. “But mostly I think I’d really like to be able to be public with him. I’d like to be able to hold his hand when I want, to snog him wherever I fancy.”

“Well, you need to be very sure of that before you tell Draco. And you need to be prepared that you still might not get the answer you want. Wanting him to call off the marriage and be public with you is asking a lot,” Luna said with a shadow in her eyes.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, suddenly feeling like Luna had a much better understanding of the situation than he had originally assumed.

“You’d be asking him to give up his entire world, everything he was raised to expect and understand,” Luna said softly. “He gave you Selwyn’s Anthropology for Christmas, right?”

“Yes,” Harry said slowly, not understanding the change in subject.

“Did you read anything about the Malfoys? Their traditions and customs?” Luna asked, twirling a lock of hair around her finger.

“No, I mostly stuck to the Potter family,” Harry said with a frown.

“Well, give it a glance,” Luna said softly. “It’s more than his mother’s approval he’d be risking. Stability, family, that’s what you’d be asking him to possibly lose.”

Luna’s words hit him hard. Hadn’t he himself always craved family and the support they provided? Hadn’t he read the Potter history and ached with what he had missed unknowingly? The traditions his grandparents had kept, written in indelible ink for him to devour twenty years after their deaths. How could he possibly ask Draco to give up everything he had when it was all Harry had ever wanted?

“Bollocks, Luna, I never thought of it like that,” Harry muttered, scrubbing his face roughly.

“I hadn’t either,” Luna said softly, as Kai slithered onto her lap.

“Wait, did you ask Pansy not to marry Draco?” Harry asked, dropping his hands.

“No, not quite. I just asked her if she was sure. She promised to think about it,” Luna said. “She said she can’t risk being left without a home or family.”

“She really thinks that would happen?” Harry asked, feeling a fresh wash of sorrow for both Pansy and Draco.

“All the comfort of tradition comes with heavy expectations. If she breaks off with Draco to be with me, she also risks losing everything. Can I ask her to give up everything when I have nothing to lose?” Luna said gently. “My father is so happy I survived the war he won’t care that she’s a girl or former Slytherin. He’ll just be pleased I have someone that loves me, even if she is married to someone else.”

“But don’t you want that for yourself? What makes you so sure it’s worth it, giving up the thought of being publicly together?”

“Because I love her. I trust her,” Luna said softly, the shadow lifting from her gaze. “Whatever her reasoning, I know it is important to her. I may not fully understand, but I can try to empathize.”

“You’re too sweet for this world, do you know that Luna?” Harry said, with a hand to her arm.

“That’s why I’m lucky to have Pansy,” Luna said with a smile. “I know she’ll protect me.”

“Do you think Draco would protect me?” Harry asked quietly.

“He already is,” Luna said with a smile.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked in confusion. He felt as if their entire conversation had put him on the back foot.

“Draco has done everything in his power to protect you, Harry, have you not seen it?” Luna asked, shocked, as her protuberant eyes seemed to get even wider.

Harry thought back, trying to think of when Draco had protected him. The war came up easily, Draco refusing to identify him in the Manor. Then he drew a bit of a blank.

“When has he protected me this year?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Oh, Harry, you are oblivious,” Luna said in an odd turn of events.

Harry sat back, holding the cushion on his lap tightly. “Maybe so.”

Luna laughed, delightedly. She bumped him with a shoulder. “Have you considered the backlash you would face if you were known to be with a former Death Eater?”

“Er, not really,” Harry mumbled, yet again surprised by Luna’s insightfulness.

“Remember how bad it was before you told your side to the Quibbler? When the Prophet was saying you were mentally unstable and dangerous? Can you imagine the stories they would run if it came out that you were with Draco? Your reputation would be ruined.”

“I don’t give a fig about my reputation.” Harry said stoutly.

“The wizarding world does. You have the power to do a lot of good, to right a lot of wrongs.” Luna said with a pat to Kai.

“Isn’t one of those wrongs the way the world views Draco?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Within reason, Harry, within reason.” Luna said delicately, Kai still winding about her lap.

They sat together in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Harry got up to fetch Selwyn’s Anthropology. He was going to take Luna’s advice and try to understand what Draco would be risking if he were to come out publicly.

He glanced at the index, finding the chapter dedicated to the Malfoy family history. Taking a bracing breath, he opened to chapter thirty-nine.

He learned all about how the Malfoy’s had held a large acreage for centuries, using magic to maximize their land’s productivity. They specialized in magical plants, famous Herbologists employed through the ages. Their estate was clearly important to the line, as not one heir had sold any off, only expanding when opportunity arose.

Harry sat, his bottom going numb, as he read and read. He imagined a tiny Draco being led around the orchards, his white hair ghosting through the spread trunks of Bowtruckle-protected trees. He could just picture a toddler Draco playing in mud as his mother and father exclaimed over the state of his robes.

A vague feeling of being watched passed over him as Draco sat next to him, on the arm of the couch. “Reading about my family?”

Harry looked up, smiling at his boyfriend-

Just as the Transfigured seat beneath him suddenly disappeared.

He hit the floor hard, pale limbs hitting him in what seemed like every soft part of his body. He groaned, bowing in toward his bullocks.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry!” Luna said as she disentangled her knee from his crotch.

He gave another weak groan, still buckled into himself. He tried to think of anything other than the searing pain in his groin as Draco pulled himself up beside him.

Draco rubbed his own shoulder, as Harry finally recovered enough to sit up. The broken remains of the original chair lay scattered around the floor.

He felt himself go pale. “Where are you, vicious one?”

“Oh no, where’s Kai?” Draco said in a nervous voice as everyone froze.

“I don’t know, she isn’t answering me,” Harry said distractedly.

“Come out, lovely, it’s safe now,” Harry hissed urgently. He flung out a hand, Summoning his wand from across the Common Room.

“No, Harry, don’t Summon Kai!” Hermione said urgently. “You can’t Summon living creatures!”

“What do I do?” Harry demanded instead.

"EVERYONE, HUSH!” Hermione shouted. It was a mark of the entire eighth year class’s trust in her that every student in the Common Room froze and trained their eyes to Hermione. “Try talking to her now, Harry," she said urgently.

“Where are you, little one? Answer me, I’m worried for you,” Harry hissed as loudly as he could.

“I am not little, I am brave and ingenious,” came Kai’s sibilant answer, as she slithered out from under a couch.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, as he scooped her into his hands.

“I may be the first of my kind to have flown,” Kai said smugly.

“You clever thing,” Harry said, checking her carefully as most of the eighth years relaxed back into their usual activity.

Pansy hauled Luna up, checking her for injuries and asking over and over if she was alright.

“I’m fine,” Luna said with a laugh, as she let Pansy lead her to their couch.

“You’re sure?” Pansy asked again. Luna nodded, pulling a cozy blanket onto her lap. Pansy drew it across her own knees and Harry could tell they were holding hands under the blanket. What a bloody great idea, he thought to himself.

Harry brushed his knees and got up, as Draco held out a hand for Kai. He watched Draco look her over, a deep fondness settling in his chest.

Hermione waved her wand, mending the chair. Then she Transfigured it back into a short couch, this time a deep red. Draco frowned at her and then pointed his own wand at the sofa and it turned back into the emerald color he had originally made it.

“Good as new,” Draco said happily, settling himself in and petting Kai continuously.

“Er, Hermione, how long will this sofa last?” Harry asked tentatively.

“Probably till the end of term,” Hermione said, leaning back into Blaise’s arms. Harry didn’t hesitate anymore, and promptly sat down.

“Probably is good enough for you to risk your bollocks?” Pansy asked.

“From Hermione, yeah, pretty much,” Harry said with a nonchalant shrug, pretending not to see an utterly adorable Draco nuzzling Kai. Kai flicked her tongue, making Draco giggle as it tickled his nose.

Harry knew then he had made another memory that could fuel a Patronus.

Chapter Text

Once again Draco woke before Harry, but this time Harry was sleeping soundly. Draco smiled, Harry had been steadily sleeping more and more nights without a nightmare.

Draco cast a glance at the magicked window, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. It might be early, and Harry might be sleeping peacefully, but it was Valentine’s Day and he had big plans.

He weighed his options, before realizing Harry was laying on his stomach. Well, that worked wonderfully in his favor.

Harry had made a throwaway comment a few weeks ago and Draco had been lying in wait ever since.

Gently, he shifted on the bed, covering Harry with his own lanky limbs. He nibbled on the back of Harry’s neck, rubbing his growing erection along the cleft of Harry’s arse. Harry stirred slightly, as Draco ghosted his breath into the shell of Harry’s ear.

Harry hummed appreciatively, pushing back against him.

“It’s time to wake up, darling,” Draco said softly.

“Is it?” Harry mumbled, “I’m so sleepy though.”

“I can think of a way to wake you up,” Draco said.

“Mmmm” Harry hummed, feigning exhaustion, the challenge evident.

Draco leaned over, grabbing a wand from the table. “Renew the wards.”

Harry’s eyes opened, as he started to turn over beneath Draco.

“No, stay where you are,” Draco said. Harry froze for a moment before settling back onto his stomach. He flung an arm out awkwardly, pointing the wand at the door. Draco took the wand back before asking Harry huskily, “trust me?”

“Yes,” Harry said immediately, his voice low.

“Hands above your head,” Draco said, as Harry hastened to comply. Draco pulled Harry’s over-large shirt off, before softly casting an Incarcerous. Draco watched as Slytherin colored cords wrapped around Harry’s wrists, binding them tightly together. “This okay?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Harry said, gently pulling against the restraints. Draco smirked to himself as they held firm. Next, he transfigured Harry’s shirt into a blindfold. He showed it to Harry briefly, who nodded almost eagerly, his faux exhaustion clearly slipping away. Draco tied it around Harry’s brow, making sure he couldn’t see anything.

“Tell me if that changes,” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear, before pulling the lobe into his mouth. He bit, pulling a breathy gasp from Harry’s lips. He nuzzled into Harry’s neck, painting sloppy kisses and love bites onto the bronze canvas beneath him. He trailed lower, taking his time to thoroughly mark the back presented to him.

He dug his hands under Harry’s hips, forcing him up slightly. He drew Harry’s pants off, before settling back behind Harry’s spread thighs. He grabbed the firm globes of Harry’s arse, spreading him open. Slowly, he leaned forward, before licking a light strip up Harry’s crease.

“Draco?” Harry asked, his voice slightly muffled, “what are you doing?”

“Tasting you,” Draco said, licking again, firmer this time. Harry tasted salty, and rather musky, but not unbearably so. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, er, feels nice,” Harry said, gasping. Draco smirked to himself and began to lave at the furrowed skin in front of him. He let Harry’s moans encourage him as he spent time getting Harry worked up. Eventually, as he prodded Harry with the tip of his tongue, he gently popped through the tight ring of muscle.

“Nnngh, Draco,” Harry said, pushing back against his face. Draco tongued Harry’s arse, one hand drifting forward to run through the dense curls surrounding Harry’s prick. He found Harry impossibly hot in his palm, already dripping precome onto the sheets. The knowledge that his mouth alone had gotten Harry this excited caused a wave of desire to crash through him.

He pulled on Harry’s cock, thumbing over the slit, smearing the glorious wetness along the foreskin. He could hear Harry groaning desperately, grinding backward and forward alternately, as though not sure which sensation to chase.

“Fuck, love, I’m so close,” Harry panted, after a while of delicious torture. Draco buried his face into Harry’s arse, ignoring his need to breathe, and increased the speed of his wrist.

He knew the moment Harry came, as Harry’s cock throbbed in his palm. Draco bit back a moan of his own, wanking Harry through it, feeling the tightening of muscles on his tongue.

Harry drooped forward, pulling himself off of Draco’s tongue, already whining at the loss. Draco released Harry’s prick, leaning back on his heels as he surveyed a boneless Harry before him. The green and silver splash of color on his wrists was especially intoxicating, what with Harry consenting to wear his house colors.

He placed a hand at the base of his prick, the need to come almost overpowering. He managed not to, somehow, probably through sheer will, as he started dragging his fingernails along Harry spine, admiring the love bites he had managed to bring out in the golden skin. Harry lay there, almost purring in contentment, still not objecting to the restraints, as red lines began appearing to mirror Draco’s scratches.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” Harry finally said, still not bothering to move, as Draco started to massage the relaxed muscles.

“Yeah?” Draco said softly.

“Well, let’s just say I’d not object to a repetition,” Harry sighed dreamily.

“Hmmm, well, don’t mind if I do,” Draco smirked as he leaned back down. Harry gasped, his hips moving slightly, as Draco tasted him again. Harry didn’t taste of anything, washed clean by his saliva. Draco wistfully remembered the flavors he had been presented with before and briefly wondered what Harry would taste like mixed with his own come. The thought made him groan.

Next time, he told himself, resolved to making Harry come twice in one morning.

“Draco,” Harry grunted, already pushing against his mouth again. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to come until I’m inside of you,” Draco growled, as he kept a hand on Harry waist. Harry whinged again, rough in his throat. Draco wriggled a finger under his chin, slowly pushing into Harry’s arse. He continued to lick the rim of muscle, as his finger brushed Harry’s prostate.

He kept rubbing the nub of nerves in Harry, as Harry unfurled beneath him. Soon Harry was as needy and desperate as earlier.

“Please, Draco, please,” Harry babbled. Draco took pity for a moment and leaned back, searching frantically through the drawer next to the bed for the lube. He continued fingering Harry, as his right hand awkwardly popped the lid of the almost empty vial. He dripped some between Harry’s cheeks, letting a second finger smear the lube around, before pushing both fingers into Harry. He scissored, trying to stretch Harry enough for him to experience no discomfort later. He pushed a third finger in, Harry not tensing once. Draco slowly twisted his fingers, a cascade of delightful sounds falling from Harry’s lips. He stayed like that for as long as he could, ignoring his own need, instead focusing on the writhing of the body beneath him.

“Draco,” Harry moaned as Draco pulled his fingers free. Quickly, he slicked himself, wanking slightly.

Once again, he felt the magnitude of what was presented before him. Harry Sodding Potter was tied up in his bed, blindfolded, and literally begging him to shag him. Salazar, this man was going to be the end of him.

Slowly, he dragged the tip of his cock along the crease of Harry’s opening. He moved forward cautiously, pushing through the ring of muscle easily. Harry pushed back against him, taking Draco deeper. It was so hot, so velvety smooth, and Draco was helpless to stop himself from thrusting slightly.

“Alright, Harry?” Draco ground out, forcing himself to hold still.

“Nnngh, yes, love, don’t stop,” Harry moaned, and that was all Draco needed to hear.

He began to thrust, trying not to come in the first five seconds, as Harry gave the most delicious and encouraging sounds beneath him.

He set a punishing pace, the music of Harry’s moans filling the room. He thrust over and over, his hips snapping forward relentlessly. He held himself up on either side of Harry’s shoulders, leaning down to bite the back of Harry’s neck again. He pressed himself against Harry, shifting his weight so one hand could grab Harry’s hip.

Draco felt sweat drip down his back, as he wrapped a palm around Harry’s prick. Harry was once again rigid and heavy in his palm. He pumped furiously, feeling Harry shake beneath him.

He thrust roughly, chasing the orgasm that had started building in his abdomen.

“Harry,” he said against Harry’s sweaty shoulder, burying his nose in Harry’s nape.

“I’m close, so close,” Harry moaned. “Fuck, Draco.”

His orgasm rose rapidly, swelling to intensity as his bullocks drew tight.

Draco bit Harry’s shoulder again, sucking harshly, the taste of salt once again on his tongue. He felt Harry’s passage clench and he shuddered forward. A deep burst of pleasure overtook him, as he finally released his come deep in Harry’s arse.

He had the presence of mind to roll away, instead of collapsing on his breathless boyfriend. Quickly, he grabbed a wand, cancelling the spell that bound Harry’s wrists. He pulled the blindfold off, smiling gently when he saw the contented look on Harry’s face. Harry opened his brilliant eyes and grinned at Draco.

“You might have to give me a few minutes before I can move,” Harry said with a relaxed smile.

Draco flopped down and pulled a boneless Harry to his chest. “Yes, well, we have plenty of time.” He tucked his chin on top of Harry’s unmanageable curls, absently running a hand along Harry’s spine.

“We might want to Glamor this one,” Draco said, brushing his thumb along a deep purple bruise on the back of Harry’s neck. “I’m not sure you want everyone to know exactly what you were up to this morning.”

“Let them know, I don’t care,” Harry said peacefully.

“Er, Harry, I meant more about our positions,” Draco said delicately. “I don’t know if you want that to become common knowledge.”

“Oh,” Harry said. He gave a shrug, “Yeah, I don’t really care.”

“Does it really not bother you, people knowing such intimate details?” Draco asked, staring up at the ceiling.

“Sometimes, especially when they get things wrong. But what are they going to say? That I spent Valentine’s Day getting shagged silly by my boyfriend? Yeah, I’m okay with everyone knowing that.” Harry said, placing a gentle kiss to Draco’s scarred chest.

“You nutter,” Draco said, as his stomach gave a loud rumble.

Harry sat up, giggling, “C’mon, let’s go eat.”

“Finally, I thought I’d never get you out of bed,” Draco said.

“That’s because you gave me my present before I got up,” Harry laughed.

“Oh, you think that was your present?” Draco asked.

“Wasn’t it?” Harry asked as they both began dressing.

“No, that was just setting the tone for the day,” Draco said with a leer. “Today I get to spoil you, and you’re just going to have to sit there and enjoy it.”

Draco used a small charm Hermione had taught him, which he had taken special care to master after Harry had told him his Patronus memory. His hair quickly plaited itself. This was his first time using the spell around Harry, and he felt Harry’s gaze lock onto his nape.

“I think can handle that,” Harry said, coming close to run a finger along Draco’s braid. Draco turned to see Harry wearing the emerald jumper he loved so much. He grinned, as Harry brushed his fingers along his jaw, before leaning down to snog his valentine.

Draco watched as Harry pulled his Cloak over his shoulders, the priceless artifact now seeing daily use. Draco might once have objected to such a valuable item being used in such a manner, but regular use had desensitized him.

Draco felt Harry’s breath on his neck, as he opened the door to leave his room. Harry gave him a pat to the bum yet again and Draco rolled his eyes. No one was in the hall, so Draco saw Harry’s door open and shut on its own. He shook his head and went through to the almost empty Common Room.

Luna and Pansy were waiting, sitting side by side.

“Hermione and Blaise?” Draco asked.

“Already went down,” Pansy said, and Draco understood. He and Pansy could ill afford being seen going to a meal alone with their actual partner on this day, lest rumor abound.

“Harry should be ready any moment,” Draco said lowly.

“Harry’s ready now,” came the voice of his messy-haired boyfriend, who was holding a cheerfully slittering Kai.

They all stood as Harry led them from the Common Room. Draco caught sight of the large love bite peeking out from the top of Harry’s jumper and preened.

Pansy elbowed him, nodding at the hickey. Draco smirked at her and she rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him.

They passed through the halls, quickly reaching the Great Hall for breakfast. The three others stopped, shocked, in the doorway. Draco barely managed to hide his smirk. The ceiling, usually reflecting the weather outside, was the soft pink of a sunset. The floating candles had been replaced by fluffy golden clouds, casually releasing heart-shaped confetti on the students below.

“Who knew the old bat was so sentimental?” Pansy asked quietly.

“She’s not,” Harry whispered. “Remember when Lockhart decorated the Hall? She looked ready to spit fire.”

“No, she isn’t,” Draco agreed smugly. Pansy and Harry turned to him as Luna looked on with a delighted smile on her face.

“Draco, did you have anything to do with this?” Pansy asked, stunned.

“Might have done, yeah,” Draco said nonchalantly.

“How in Merlin’s left bollock did you manage that?” Pansy whispered, as they started crossing the sea of moon-eyed girls and pale-faced boys.

“Told her that we all survived a war and deserve a regular soppy Valentine’s Day, and that the Hall should reflect that. I’ve no intentions of shirking my duties today.” Draco muttered in her ear, as they reached their usual seats.

“Who knew you were such a softie,” Pansy said with a smirk, settling next to him.

They arrived not a moment too soon, as the post began streaming in. Draco made Harry a plate as he smiled to himself.

No less than a dozen owls jostled in front of Harry, each carrying a huge bouquet of deep crimson roses. Each owl carried a heavily engraved envelope in its beak. The first dropped its note on Harry’s food, then released its bouquet from its talons.

Harry opened the note bemusedly, as Hermione exclaimed in shock.

“Don’t worry, Hermione, the Headmistress had aurors come in to thoroughly screen all mail today. Moon Frog made sure of it,” Blaise said, placing a hand on her wrist.

Draco smiled, making up his own plate, knowing exactly what the note said. The next owl dropped its note and bouquet as soon as Harry finished reading the first.

The notes listed twelve of Draco’s favorite things about Harry, though it had been difficult to write. The things he truly cherished, such as the way Harry trusted him enough to sleep in his bed didn’t sound very romantic when written on a piece of parchment with no context.

Draco had contented himself with sweet mixed with sultry messages. He saw Harry open the third message and smirked to himself as Harry ran a distracted hand through his messy fringe. The message in question had remarked upon the taste of Harry’s come.

Pansy hit him with a Stinging Hex to his ribs, and Draco felt himself jolt back from his overactive imagination.

“What?” He asked irritably.

“You have a letter,” Pansy whispered, “And you’re being dreadfully obvious.”

Draco felt his focus snap, as he darted a quick glance at Pansy’s face. “Sorry,” he whispered. Pansy gave a small wave of the hand as Draco untied a parcel from the owl’s leg.

He pulled the envelope and rose from the twine, absently smelling the petals as he slit the flap open. A small photo fell out of the letter and he consciously didn’t look at it, as manners dictated that he read the letter first.

Love,

It seems I’m more of a fan of this holiday than I realized because once I started, I had a hard time stopping. Or maybe I just love you so much I’ve put aside my usual distaste for this garish day.

First, I know family is important to you, so I reached out to your aunt Andromeda. She said she would be happy to hear from you or your mum, but she understands if you don’t want to open communications. As the muggles say, the ball is in your court.

Secondly, I upgraded your cuffs. I wove your Shield Charm into both of them and altered the Pain Enchantment. Now, if you want pain relief, just prod under the buckle with your wand.

However, your real present is in the parcel. I hope you like it.

-Harry

Here Draco set down the letter, on top of the photo, and peeled the silver and red paper from the parcel. Inside was a mahogany box, engraved in miniscule detail. Carefully, Draco pulled the lid open. Inside was a velvet bag. He unrolled the length of velvet and saw a handsome set of potions stirring rods nestled into the deep black folds. He noticed the usual glass and steel, along with marble and pearl. He stared for a moment, surely the second pearlescent white rod wasn’t unicorn horn. And that black one couldn’t be dragon’s bone.

Draco grinned hugely. He had been trying to get his hands on a decent set of stirring rods for ages. The summer before fourth year he had asked his father for a set, and instead had been treated to a lecture about how becoming a potioneer was not a suitable occupation for the heir of the Malfoy family. For the rest of the holiday his father had dropped scathing remarks about how the working class was far beneath a pureblood of the Malfoy name.

Draco ran a finger along a milky jade rod. Circe, this gift must have set Harry back a tidy sum, how had Harry afforded it? With a shake to his head, he rolled the case back up, gently placing it back in the handsome box. This was without doubt yet another ridiculously thoughtful gift from Harry. He frowned to himself, once again Harry had beat him when it came to consideration.

Draco subtly turned his attention to the photo in his hand. In it he was a swaddling infant cradled in a woman’s arms, a woman that looked like a young, beautiful version of his mad aunt Bella. His mother stood next to her, smiling gently at the camera while what he assumed was his aunt Andromeda cuddled him close.

There wasn’t much he knew about his mother’s other sister, other than she had married a muggle and had eventually fallen out of contact with the family as the Dark Lord’s philosophy had gained more and more traction with his father.

He roughly recalled a snippet of something his mother had mentioned in a broken whisper, one night as they had been hiding in the library, most Death Eaters not prone to reading, that his aunt had lost her husband and daughter in the war. How had she found the forgiveness in her heart to welcome even a letter from him? His letter would require careful preparation, as he knew without a moment’s hesitation that he would reach out to her.

He felt Harry absently place Kai on his shoulder and he raised a hand to pat her, as she wriggled ecstatically. Sometimes she didn’t even need to help manage his sorrow, she was cute enough to help him feel better by just being there.

He glanced at his boyfriend, who was currently reading the note about how much Draco enjoyed the way Harry never failed to make him laugh. Draco smiled to himself before he drifted his hand under the table. Silently, he looked under the buckle of his cuff, as Harry had suggested, and found a tiny, embossed swan. He held his wand awkwardly with his right hand and prodded the bird. It flapped its wings irritably but changed its pose from swimming to flying. Draco felt the nerve-compressing spell lift.

Draco had seen a lot of astounding magic in his time, some Light and most Dark, but Harry’s utterly amazed him. To keep half a dozen spells woven into a small object and manage to balance them and keep them functional indicated Harry’s power. Most wizards might be able to cast one or two long lasting spells, confined to the object’s close proximity.

Most antiques, even in the Manor, only had a couple of charms. The truly valuable and impressive heirlooms came from extremely powerful and important ancestors.

Draco had no doubts that his heirs for generations would use these cuffs for their Shield Charms alone, let alone the Stabilizing (great for wand and quill work) and Sticking (what was worse in a duel than losing one’s wand?) Charms.

Then he froze. Heirs.

He had always wanted to be a father, first because it was expected of him, and then recently to do it better than his own father. He wanted to raise tiny beings and teach them all that he had never learned, from the value of a house elf, to the power of a muggle born. He wanted to shower his children in love and show them exactly what it was to be a kind, wonderful person.

Now he just felt an ache that any children he had wouldn’t be with Harry. And what would happen if Harry had children? Harry had made no bones about the fact that he wanted kids. Would he, Draco, have no voice in how Harry raised their children, married as Draco would be to Pansy?

For the first time he resented his future children.

Suddenly he felt something as cold as snow slip down his spine. What if Harry married someone else? Raised a family with some faceless bloke that now Draco couldn’t shake out of his head?

He stiffened his spine and for once embraced the singing of his nerves. The pain grounded him and helped keep his mind from spiraling.

He pulled his Occlumency shields tight, closing off every thought of Harry having a family with someone else.

Everyone at the eighth year table seemed to be talking loudly, speculating about Moon Frog as Harry was swamped by the twelve monstrous bouquets. Draco took a sip of his tea, deftly keeping it out of the way of the flowers.

Another owl dropped in front of him, pulling him out of his very unpleasant and un-Valentine’s-Day thoughts.

He tugged the scroll from the owl’s leg, deftly offering the bird a scrap of Harry’s bacon.

Draco,

I know I haven’t really spoken to you all year, and I’m sorry for that. Luna has assured me again and again that yours might have been the face I saw most often when imprisoned in your dungeons, but that was because you were constantly checking on us. When Seamus told me you and Harry are together, I finally realized she might be right.

I don’t know if I’ll ever really be comfortable around you, but Harry deserves to be happier than any bloke alive. So, make him happy.

Don’t you dare mess it up.

-Dean.

Draco felt indentations under his fingertips and flipped the parchment over. On the other side of it was a drawing. In it, an ink-Draco smiled as he was kissed by an inky-black mop. There was no mistaking the owner of that mop, as he currently sat next to Draco while shoveling treacle tart flavored candies in his mouth.

The drawing from Dean moved magically, so before anyone’s eye was caught, he rolled it back up. He tucked it deep in his robes, a pocket magically appearing. Draco smiled at Pansy as he watched her tuck a single sunflower behind Luna’s ear.

A blocky student walked up to the eighth year table, his tie marking him as a Slytherin. Pansy and Blaise glanced at each other in confusion, while Draco looked on. Not a single Slytherin had publicly reached out to any them all year.

“Mr. Malfoy?” The square boy said jerkily.

“Yes,” Draco said, raising a single brow.

“Letter for you,” was said as a thick hand held out a piece of parchment.

Draco looked at the others again, before Hermione accepted the note with a wave of her wand. It spun slowly in the air as Hermione waved her wand over it, again and again, mumbling incantations under her breath.

“It’s safe,” she said eventually, reaching out and taking it in hand. Casually, she handed it to Draco, as he thanked her quietly.

“Was there something else?” Draco asked the child as he placed the letter on the table next to his plate.

“Er, yes,” the boy said, pulling a photo from his robes. “I was wondering if you and Mr. Potter would sign this photo for me?”

Draco took the photo, glancing at it. In it he and Harry were seated in the library, Harry laughing at some unknown joke. Draco liked the look on Harry’s face, until Photo-Harry clearly placed his hand on Draco’s thigh under the table. Photo-Draco didn’t shuck him away, he merely smiled broadly.

The implications could not be clearer.

With the clarity his Occlumency lent him, he quickly considered his options. The little wretch was sure to have more copies. This was a power move, a display to begin demands.

Power moves Draco understood. He had learned them from his father’s bended knee as a small boy. He let his iciest mask slide over his features as he tucked the picture into the same pocket.

“You can keep it, I have more,” the boy said, voice steady. Pansy and Blaise froze, watching the exchange from the corner of their eyes.

“I’m sure you do, have you sent them to anyone?” Draco asked quietly, pulling the attention of Harry, Hermione, and Luna.

“Of course, and it’ll be sent to the Prophet at midnight tomorrow unless you give me what I want,” the little bugger said. A cursory sample of the blocky child’s thoughts proved the lie in his words.

“Right, and that is?” Draco said in a bored tone, as a vast weight lifted from his shoulders.

“A thousand Galleons,” the upstart said. Draco almost laughed. This photo sent to the Daily Prophet could fetch three times that amount. Which meant the little wretch meant to blackmail him over and over.

“I’m not going to give you a thousand Galleons,” Draco said as Harry sputtered. “I am, however, going to give you a couple of lessons from a fellow Slytherin. Firstly, don’t reveal your hand unless you have already played it. You haven’t sent the photo to anyone, and we both know it.” Quickly Draco began weaving his wand in an enchantment his father had taught him when he was smaller than the child in front of him. “Secondly, never, under any circumstance, reveal your identity. Now I know exactly how to keep your tongue bound and your eyes to yourself.” Draco finished the spell, whispering the single word to seal the incantation.

“You may go,” Draco said with a dismissive wave of his fingers. Blaise and Pansy also returned to their meals, well aware of a fellow pureblood’s ability to protect their reputation on such a small scale.

Hermione and Harry exchanged glances. “Er, Draco, what just happened?” Harry asked quietly, his forkful of eggs still held midair.

“That child thought he could pull one over on a pureblood,” Pansy said with a sniff. “As if we aren’t taught how to protect our families from the cradle.”

“What do you mean?”

Draco dragged the picture out of his pocket, silently handing it to Harry. Harry looked at it for a moment, watching it run through its loop.

“What’s the big deal? I’m laughing and I touch your leg,” Harry said in confusion. Draco rolled his eyes and leaned over to pluck it from his grasp. He passed it to Pansy, who leaned over with Blaise to watch it with Hermione squeezed between them. Pansy paled and even Blaise looked shocked.

“Draco, you’re so lucky that idiot was the only one that got this on camera,” Pansy said quietly.

“Yes, I’m aware,” Draco said as he tucked the picture back into his robes.

“So, which enchantment did you use? Did you opt for a Tongue-Tie?” Pansy asked as Blaise smirked.

“Did you not realize his wand work, Pans?” Blaise sniffed.

“Of course I did, I just want to hear him explain it,” Pansy said with a devilish smile.

“Fine,” Draco sighed. “I used a Spider’s Web.”

“Ha!” Pansy exclaimed.

“What’s a Spider’s Web?” Hermione asked, frowning. Draco didn’t know why she would frown when he was protecting her own best mate.

“It binds a person with damaging intentions from speaking or writing about any harmful information they may have.” Blaise said softly. “It also has the added benefit of destroying any evidence left in the bugger’s possession if he’s stupid enough to even look at it.”

“Was that really necessary?” Hermione asked.

“It was a bit excessive,” Pansy said with a smirk.

“Unless you’d like tomorrow’s Daily Prophet to blast headlines about Harry’s love life, then yes.” Draco said with a vague shrug. Hermione opened her mouth, probably to continue arguing, until Blaise stopped her.

“’Mione, Draco knows what he’s doing,” Blaise said, placing a hand on her wrist.

“If you say so,” Hermione said, still suspicious.

“Jesus, ‘Mione, give it a rest,” Harry said. “It’s Valentine’s Day.” At Harry’s request, Hermione visibly tried to relax and gave a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away,” Hermione said.

“It’s fine, Hermione,” Draco said softly, “I understand why you might not always trust my judgement.”

“Draco stop self-flagellating, it isn’t attractive,” Pansy snapped, “Hermione, you really need to read Selwyn’s Anthropology. That way you’ll stop hastening to judgements about purebloods.”

“I’ve never!” Hermione spluttered.

“Yeah, you do,” Pansy said bluntly. “We’ve made massive efforts to understand muggle culture and be more sensitive. It’s about time you reciprocate, instead of jumping to conclusions.”

Hermione looked at Harry for support and he merely shrugged one shoulder. She frowned and jabbed her wand, clearly trying to Summon a jar of preserves from down the table. It wobbled, fell, and shattered halfway to her, splattering the Patil twins with peach juices. Draco put it down to her being flustered and he was numbly pleased that he was still Occluding because he would have visibly smirked otherwise.

“So, what does the letter say?” Luna asked, breaking through the tension Draco was aware of but not entirely feeling.

Quickly, he untied the green ribbon and unrolled the parchment.

Mr. Malfoy,

Please meet me in the Potion’s classroom at half past ten, I have something I would like to discuss with you.

-Professor Slughorn

Draco flicked a Tempus and checked the time. It was just gone ten. He’d have to hustle to get back to the Common Room and then back to the Potion’s room.

“Alright all, looks like Slughorn wants to see me so I’ll see you all later,” Draco said, passing the letter to Harry. He took a final sip of his tea and left them all, tucking the single rose from Harry into his robes.

Twenty minutes later Draco was down in the dungeons, his potions kit and the present from Harry packed in his school bag. He reasoned if Slughorn wanted him in the classroom, it would be prudent to bring his things.

He knocked briskly on the doorframe, as Slughorn called a jovial Enter!

Draco stepped through the threshold, heading toward his usual desk, only to stop, faintly confused. All of the desks were pushed against the wall, save for one long table. At one end of the table sat a violently bubbling cauldron.

At the head of the class, Slughorn sat in comfortable armchairs with a familiar-looking witch, smiling broadly.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Malfoy!” Professor Slughorn exclaimed. “Today I’ve called you here for some extra credit.”

Draco processed that quickly. His work in class had been flawless, which meant that Slughorn was cueing him that this was something else. As Slughorn hadn’t introduced the witch, he assumed it was for her benefit. Well, best play along then.

“Yes, sir,” Draco said smoothly. “What am I to do?”

“I’d like you to identify the potion before you and replicate it, please,” Professor Slughorn said as he dug his fingers into a dish of candied pineapple balanced on his rotund stomach. Draco gave him and the witch a polite nod, not quite a bow, and set his bag next to the cauldron, facing them.

First things first, making sure he was prepared. Draco cast a Bubble Head Charm on himself, as every potioneer knew that dealing with unknown potions could be dangerous. He didn’t think Slughorn would deliberately expose him to something toxic, but he had no clue about the witch. In that vein, he cast a thin Shield Charm on each hand, creating another barrier of protection.

He unpacked his supplies, reverently setting his new stirring rods to the side. He pulled out twelve empty vials for the testing that he was about to perform. Most potioneers agreed that eight were enough, but Draco had learned that being thorough was a virtue when it came to potentially harmful substances.

He went to the supply cupboard, gathering everything he thought he might need. He got back to the table and set the armful down, spacing it all neatly around his station.

The first thing he did was pull three samples with the ladle that was already in the cauldron. Two went into glass, one into steel. He took one glass phial and cast a few Cushioning Charms at it and set it to the side. That would be his control, the sample he never touched.

Then he compared the other glass held sample with the steel. They still looked to be the same so Draco pulled a single seed of a fluxweed and put it in the glass phial. Nothing happened. Draco knew that meant he could breathe safely around the potion fumes, so he disabled his Bubble Head Charm.

He took a deep breath, as he siphoned off a phial of potion. It didn’t react any differently to the magical handling than the physical, so he quickly sorted the other vials.

He frowned for a moment, that scent tickled the back of his sinuses. If the fluxweed was to be believed, that meant he was experiencing a different symptom.

He knew that he was extremely allergic to Chinese Chomping Cabbage, after an unfortunate childhood bite on the Malfoy grounds. He had broken out in a violent rash across his entire body after one had managed to catch his finger as he had tried to pat it. He had only been seven or eight at the time and cloudily remembered the pain and Healers hovering over his bed as they tried to keep him breathing.

There was a note in his student file, which was why, when he was attacked by that stupid hippogriff that had fractured his elbow, he couldn’t take the Skele-Gro that would have healed him overnight. He made a mental note to tell Hermione and Harry about his allergy, so they would never accidentally administer him the wrong herb.

Draco pulled his focus. What potions had Chinese Chomping Cabbage? Skele-Gro was a given, as were plenty of other healing potions. On the other hand, so were a great many poisons. Draco pulled a root toward himself, absently slicing it.

He threw a few slices into another vial, and as he waited for the color to change, he cut and juiced a few more herbs and berries.

Soon he had focused solely on the project before him, forgetting about Slughorn and the witch at the head of the class. He stirred and prodded, waved his wand and diced insects. He lost himself entirely in his task, his Occlumency shields slipping.

He first noticed the intrusion as he was setting up two more cauldrons, reasoning it would be easier to brew the ‘antidote’ and then figure out the potion from there. Reverse-brewing a potion might be time consuming, but all of his experimentation had hit a stone wall.

A memory of his father, kneeling before the Dark lord, stammering apologies, suddenly wafted across his mind.

Draco managed not to show any reaction and kept his focus on the task at hand, carefully tracking the mental invader. Whenever they got too close to something Draco didn’t want them to see, such as his relationship with Harry, he pulled up a particularly violent memory. The one of Greyback mauling a tiny child while he himself was awash with horror and nausea kept the intruder distracted for a few minutes.

Quickly he brewed his antidote, still keeping tabs on the intruder. To verify his results, he poured a drop into a clean marble pestle, before adding one from his ‘control’. The two steamed for a moment and then turned clear, obviously cancelling each other out.

Well, now he was getting somewhere.

He now knew his reverse brew wasn’t an antidote, but really a poison targeting bones.

That made his observation about Skele-Gro even more valid, though it didn’t present the same way.

Finally, as he distracted his mental spy with the lovely memory of the night he had received the Dark Mark, he figured it out. This was a potion that specifically helped heal bone fractures.

He knew from experience that certain bones healed slower or not at all because of how delicate they were.

Luna’s left collarbone in particular was held together by a spell and a wish.

Suddenly he was renewed with energy. Here he had a potion that might help her healing. He began chopping and stirring fervently.

When it came to the Chinese Chomping Cabbage, he cast his Sheild Charms back on his hands. He carefully pulled each leaf off of the aggressive herb before slicing and sprinkling them into his potion.

He peeled his roots, dicing them easily yet equally. He substituted a lesser ingredient with finely strained Wild Rice. Why others were so inconsistent with their preparation of ingredients never failed to shock him. Once again he silently thanked Harry for the stabilizing charm that helped keep his hands steady enough to cut with the skill he had known before the war

He sweated his potion, drastically decreasing the time it would take to mature before tossing in a few more herbs that needed to set.

“The fracture potion will be done in approximately twenty-five minutes,” Draco told the two at the head of class.

“How can you be sure?” The witch said, speaking for the first time. The sound of her voice confirmed his own theory. She had indeed been the one rooting around his head.

“One can never be sure, madam, until results are fully tested, but I am reasonably confident. In fact, I have a friend that would be willing to try my potion on my word alone.”

“Very well then,” the somewhat-familiar witch said, her face clearly mistrusting. “Let us send for this friend of yours.”

Professor Slughorn looked at him and Draco simply said, “Luna.” Slughorn almost seemed to smirk as he flicked his wand. A foggy mist of a Patronus ghosted through the open door.

Draco stood politely, as he distracted the witch with more memories of his time under the direction of the Dark Lord. He watched her face as he pulled up the memory of his dear aunt Bella torturing Hermione. He kept his nausea under tight control, closely watching how she reacted. She paled significantly, pulling her own consciousness back.

So, tiny children had no effect, but as soon as she recognized the victim, she had a problem?

He frowned internally, as Luna wandered into the room. “I was asked to come here?” she asked softly.

“Yes, Ms. Lovegood,” Professor Slughorn with a simpering smile, his fingers crusted in sugar.

“Luna,” Draco cut off, wanting to explain. “I made a fracture-healing potion for extra credit and thought of you. Would you like to have some before I turn it in?” He let his fondness for his eccentric cousin radiate through him, expecting the witch to catch it.

“Yes, please,” Luna said happily, nodding at him. Draco poured a small dose for her, mentally calculating her weight and bone mass easily.

“I’m not sure that is entirely wise,” the witch began, but too late. Luna swallowed the potion in one and beamed at Draco.

He smiled back at her as the witch started spluttering.

“We really should have consulted with a Healer before we let a war hero try that potion,” she said, annoyed.

“It’s done now,” Slughorn said cheerfully. “Ms. Lovegood, how do you feel?”

Luna flexed her left arm, before rotating her shoulder slowly. “Wow, Draco, thanks!”

“Thank you, Ms. Lovegood, you may go,” Professor Slughorn said. “Perhaps you could have Madame Pomfrey look you over, if only to assuage the worries of Master Sari.”

Draco’s heart plummeted.

Master Sari.

Master Sari had overcome thousands of years of ‘tradition’ to become the first witch to attain a Mastery of Potions. Witches before had solely been named as Mistresses in a separate category, ineligible for many honors or recognition. Draco had idolized her for years.

Now he was faced with his hero and found her somewhat lacking.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Professor Slughorn began, “I assume you know who Master Sari is?”

“Yes sir,” Draco said courteously, as he felt Master Sari’s mind touch his yet again.

“Master Sari is here as a favor to me.” Slughorn said as he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his fingers.

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy,” Master Sari said. “Please show me what you’ve done today. I saw that you changed the preparation of the potion. Walk me through your steps and reasoning, please.”

Draco could feel her disdain as she came down from the front of class. He politely stepped aside as she came up to stir his potion. She preemptively grabbed his glass stirring rod, prodding his potion slightly.

He ruthlessly squashed down on his irritation, knowing he couldn’t raise his Occlumency shields as she was still randomly attempting to sample his thoughts.

Instead he kept his face blank and his mind empty. He explained each step as she nodded absently.

At the end of his explanation, he felt as wrung out as a tea towel from having to justify each movement he had made to Master Sari.

“How would you feel about attending Golpalott’s Institute of Potion Making next year?” Master Sari asked suddenly.

“I beg your pardon,” Draco said, shock coloring his voice, sure he had misheard.

“You’re clearly talented.” Master Sari said, waving a graceful hand at the simmering cauldrons. “And your professors have only good things to say about you. Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Slughorn in particular have been most complimentary.”

“And my history?” Draco asked, for once ignoring his upbringing of not talking about awkward truths.

“I won’t deny that it will be hard,” Master Sari said. “But you are talented enough to turn your life around, if you have the courage.”

Chapter Text

Harry hadn’t seen Draco since he had disappeared after breakfast and was starting to properly worry. Lunch had come and gone and still no sign of his boyfriend. Supper was fast approaching, and Harry was ignoring all of the canoodling couples around him, trying not to feel neglected.

The back of Saudade slid aside and Harry couldn’t keep his eyes from darting up.

Neville walked in, hand in hand with none other than Hannah Abbott. Harry dropped his gaze back to the book in his lap, completely disinterested in that development. Pansy and Hermione exchanged low whispers, both insisting they had known it all along.

Briefly he considered getting the Marauder’s Map, to find out exactly where Draco was, but that was reminiscent of sixth year when he had basically stalked Draco. Plus, it was in Draco’s room and he wasn’t entirely sure he could fetch it without being noticed.

He could practically feel Hermione’s eyes boring into him as he aimlessly leafed through his Defense textbook. He didn’t know what reason she could possibly have to disapprove; his homework was mostly (not at all) caught up. Regardless, he was set for tomorrow, his History of Magic homework completed last week.

He had assumed he would be busy with Draco all day, stealing secret glances and possibly dragging Draco aside for a steamy snog in a corner of the castle. Instead he was here, twiddling his thumbs as Draco was off with Slughorn doing goodness-knew-what.

Pansy was laying with her head in Luna’s lap, speculating on the flavors of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans as Luna held each to her lips.

“Candle wax,” she said, chewing a pale pink bean. Luna giggled before pulling out another. “Brussel sprouts,” Pansy choked, as Blaise and Hermione laughed.

The portrait opened again, and Harry couldn’t stop his eyes from darting up. He sighed petulantly when it was just Terry and Parvati, arms heavy with Hogsmeade shopping.

“Seriously, Harry, give it a rest,” Pansy whispered fiercely. “He’ll be back when he’s done. Browned butter.”

“It’s been hours though,” Harry said, thinking it was rich of Pansy to criticize him when she had been just as mopey when Luna had left for a mere half an hour. “And it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“So needy,” Hermione chimed in, Blaise’s arm draped over her shoulder.

“You’re mean when you aren’t nose-deep in a book,” Harry whinged.

“And you’re rude when your Moon Frog is busy,” Hermione shrugged.

Harry looked up again, as Draco finally came through the portrait. He perked up, already forgetting Hermione and Pansy’s words.

As Draco approached, weaving through the sofas and tables, something triggered Harry’s worry. He could tell that something was off by the set of Draco’s shoulders. He tried to pinpoint his concern as he watched Draco with worried eyes.

“Draco, are you okay?” Harry asked as soon as Draco was in earshot.

“I got an invitation to attend Golpalott’s Institute next year,” Draco said weakly, which made no sense to Harry. He frowned at Hermione, who looked astonished.

“Wow, congratulations!” She said in a stunned voice. Harry took that to mean it was a good thing but still had no idea what Golpalott’s Institute was.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said in what he thought was a brilliant observation. Everyone glanced at him before returning their attention to Draco.

“What happened?” Pansy asked as she straightened herself up next to Luna.

“Master Sari was in the Potion’s classroom when I got there,” Draco said dazedly while Pansy and Hermione gasped. “I had to identify and brew a potion. I managed it, making a few improvements in the process. Luna came to test it for me,” Draco giggled wildly. “Master Sari was not pleased when she found out who Luna was. How do you feel, by the way?”

Luna smiled gently, rotating her shoulder. “Good as new.”

“That’s good,” Draco said, distractedly shaking his hands out. Harry frowned, wishing Draco would activate the nerve suppressor. “I think she was worried I was going to poison a war hero since I’m such a big bad Death Eater.”

“She must have been impressed by your brewing, to still extend you an invitation.” Blaise said succinctly.

“I suppose,” Draco said, still clearly distracted.

“That’s great news Draco,” Pansy said gently. Draco nodded absently, eyes gazing into the distance, obviously lost in thought.

Harry nudged him with a knee, dragging Draco’s eyes to his own. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Actually, can we go talk?” Draco said, a wild look about him.

“Yeah,” Harry said softly. “Your room? You go first.”

Draco nodded before excusing himself. Pansy rolled her eyes when Harry got up to follow not two minutes later. Harry knew they were being a bit obvious but couldn’t bring himself to care as Pansy settled her head back onto Luna’s lap.

He glanced down, where Kai was playing with Nomi, flicking her tail teasingly from underneath the sofa. Nomi kept swiping, her claws fully sheathed. The first few times they had played this ‘game’ Harry had been worried, but after careful watch of Nomi’s gentle paw, he knew he could leave Kai on her own. He left with a nod at Hermione to keep an eye on the two mismatched friends, briskly walking away.

He made sure no one was coming through the boy’s hall when he walked into Draco’s room, giving a single rap of knuckle before swinging the door open and darting inside.

Draco was pacing, alternating between shaking his hands and running his fingers along his thighs. Harry frowned and reached for Draco’s hand. He lifted the buckle and tapped the swan with his index, wandlessly activating the spell.

Draco sighed in relief and immediately pulled him into his embrace. He ran a hand under Draco’s plait, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked quietly.

“Nothing!” Draco said forcefully. “Everything,” he whispered not a moment later.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Harry said carefully.

“It’s just that Master Sari said something, and I can’t get it out of my head.” Draco said softly.

“What did she say?” Harry asked quietly.

“Master Sari said, ‘you are talented enough to turn your life around, if you have the courage’,” Draco whispered.

“Why is that bothering you?” Harry asked, his mouth pressed to Draco’s collarbone.

“I think I need to tell my mother that I’m gay.”

“Er, what?” Harry asked, pulling back slightly, not understanding.

“I was a coward during the war,” Draco mumbled. “I lay awake at night and think of all the things I could have done differently. But I didn’t. I accepted the Mark, I stood behind the flat-faced arsehole that nearly destroyed everything I love.” Harry tightened his embrace around Draco.

“You did enough,” Harry said softly, running his thumb along Draco’s jaw.

“I just don’t want any more regrets,” Draco said.

“And that means you want to tell your mum that you’re gay?” Harry asked, hardly daring to let himself hope.

“Yeah, I really do,” Draco said softly.

“So, what’s stopping you?” Harry asked gently, pulling Draco to sit with him on the bed, he felt like this was a conversation best had face to face.

“She’s going to disinherit me.” Draco said quietly.

“You can’t know that.” Harry said. “What if she accepts you?”

“When I was a child, before I even came to Hogwarts, I was leafing through Quidditch Today. Something in my expression must have made my father use Legilimency on me. Or maybe he routinely sampled my thoughts even back then. Whatever he saw in my mind that day, he didn’t like.” Draco whispered. “That was the first time I was Crucioed. I couldn’t have been older than nine.”

“Oh, Draco,” Harry said, threading his fingers into Draco’s.

“After that he kept a closer watch on me. He never held the curse long enough to cause harm, because to him nothing is worse than a defective heir. It taught me how to hide my thoughts, for fear of the pain.” Draco said.

Harry gulped, knowing more was coming.

“He told me my mother would never love a degenerate like me, and to keep my abhorrent thoughts to myself.” Draco’s words fractured Harry’s heart. “So, I never told her. I kept everything buried as deep as I could. That’s why I’m so scared.”

Harry rubbed Draco’s hand with his fingers, as Draco stared into the distance.

“It was hard,” Draco said quietly. “But that’s why I’m so good at Occlumency, it was learn or die. I was already decent at it by our first year, but by the time the Dark Lord moved in, I had progressed to the point that even while being tortured no one could get into my mind. I suppose my father did me a favor, in the end. If the Dark Lord had guessed, I’d have been killed immediately.”

“I’m so sorry love,” Harry said wretchedly.

Draco shrugged, as if to say nothing else to be said about it. “I really, really don’t want to hide anymore.”

“I don’t want you to hide either,” Harry whispered, his heart in his throat.

“It’s just that... I have nowhere else to go after school ends,” Draco said.

“So, move in with me,” Harry said quickly, “I was going to ask you anyway. Pansy, Luna, and Blaise too. ‘Mione has already said she will. My house has more rooms than I know what to do with.”

Draco froze, eyes on his knees. “You have a house?”

“Er, yes?” Harry said. “It’s crap but I wouldn’t charge rent.”

“You’re serious?” Draco pulled his face up and looked Harry right in the eyes.

“Yes, it was left to me by my godfather.”

“You’re actually saying you want me to move in with you?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “You can even have your own room if you don’t want to share.”

Draco smirked. “You want to share a room with me?”

“Er, I mean,” Harry stammered out. “We spend every night together anyway?”

“I’m teasing, darling,” Draco said softly, raising a hand to card through Harry’s unruly hair. "As if I would sleep anywhere other than the master suite."

“Is that a yes?” Harry asked, trying not to laugh.

“I suppose so,” Draco said, lodging Harry's heart in his throat. Then he rubbed his thigh. “Now I just need to wait long enough to transfer enough funds to cover my first term tuition. I can get a job for the rest of it, but I really need to study this summer.”

“So, what, you’re not coming out until you get a job? Or get the money to pay your tuition?” Harry asked, his stomach dropping.

“That’s not what I said,” Draco said, a prickle in his voice.

“I don’t understand you, Draco,” Harry finally burst out. “I’m sitting here offering you all the help you need and you’re acting like you have to do it all alone! I thought we were in this together but it’s like you’re looking for excuses to keep me secret. Do you even want to be public with me?”

Draco froze. “You want to go public?”

“Bloody hell, Draco, of course I want to be out with you. You think I wouldn’t pay your tuition myself if that’s really all that was stopping you?”

“What do you mean, do you have money?”

“I have money,” Harry said, frowning. “My parents and my godfather left me plenty. I can help you with your tuition.”

“How in Circe’s name was I supposed to know that?” Draco asked. “You still wear your cousin’s hand-me-downs!”

“Well, yeah, they’re comfortable,” Harry said, still frowning.

“We’re going to have to have another conversation about you not telling me things, but for now let’s just talk sordid details. Are you sure you want to cover my first term?” Draco asked, his silver eyes intent. “I won’t even know how much it’s going to be until after our N.E.W.T.s and I get formally accepted.”

“I really don’t mind,” Harry said, ignoring however much the tuition might be in favor of more pressing details. “Where’s your school? Can you still live with me? I have a Floo.”

“It’s back in Britain, obviously, since I’m not allowed out of the country without approval from my probation officer. I’m sure they’ll approve of me living with you, you could only be seen as a good influence.” Draco said with a smile.

“Can you still stay with me during term? Or are there dorms? I’d hate to start getting nightmares again,” Harry said cajolingly.

“I can live off-campus and Floo or Apparate for classes.”

“Perfect, the house is in London. So, you’re going to move in with me?” Harry asked, needing to hear it again.

“Since I won’t be getting any better offers than the Chosen One, I suppose you’ll have to do,” Draco said with a smirk.

Harry poked him in the ribs, before pulling down Draco’s face for a breathtaking kiss.

“I need to write Mother a letter,” Draco said softly, pulling back up.

“You want to do it now?” Harry asked, secretely elated.

“Want? No. Need? Yes.” Draco said, distractedly getting up to cross to his desk. He pulled out ink and a fancy quill, thoughtfully tapping his lower lip as Harry watched. “I don’t think I could look her in the eye and see her reaction.”

“Okay, love, it’s your choice,” Harry said, trying to temper his enthusiasm and be supportive.

Draco began scribbling, crossing through his own words many times. He balled up a parchment, tossing it in the bin as he pulled a fresh page his way. Harry watched for ages as Draco agonized over his letter. Eventually Draco set down the quill and rubbed his eyes. He handed the letter to Harry, who took it with gentle fingers.

“If I keep at it, I’ll never be done. Just tell me it’s good so I can send it and let the torture be over.”

Dear Mother,

I’m gay.

I’m not going to marry Pansy, and she’s okay with that.

I love you,

Draco

P.S. I got into Golpalott’s Institute of Potion Making.

Harry could feel the fear and stress oozing from the succinct note and bit back a wildly inappropriate laugh. The letter was very brief indeed considering how long Draco had spent writing it. There was definitely no misinterpreting Draco’s news, even for a polite mother that might try to ignore the obvious.

“It gets your point across,” Harry said simply.

“I’m aware,” Draco said with a small bite to his tone. Harry forgave him that, understanding the extreme stress Draco was under.

Draco sighed. “Do you want to go to the Owlery with me so I can send this off before I talk myself out of it?”

Harry nodded; he also wanted to see this through.

“Shall we tell them when we go through the Common Room?”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Draco said, “it’ll keep me from backing out at the last minute.”

“Can I hold your hand then?” Harry asked.

“Er, it might be best to wait until the owl has flown for that,” Draco said, nervously rubbing his thighs.

“That’s fine love,” Harry said quietly, “I understand.”

“But I promise, we can walk back into the Common Room snogging for all I care,” Draco said, giving Harry a nervous smile. Harry recognized a bribe when he saw one but how could he ever turn down a snog from Draco?

“Deal.”

Quickly, Draco tied the letter with green ribbon, tapping it a few times with his wand, muttering this is one letter I really don’t want intercepted. Eventually he deemed his privacy spells good enough and stood for Harry to follow.

“Are you really sure about this?” Harry asked, needing to know he hadn’t pressured Draco into it.

“It’s like Master Sari said, I just need the courage.” Draco replied, stiffening his spine. They left Draco’s room, and for the first time entered the Common Room side by side.

Harry immediately assumed someone would jump up and shout, “Draco is Moon Frog, they just came back from snogging!” while pointing and waving their hands for everyone’s attention.

He was disappointed however, as no one even glanced their way. Had they really been staggering their entrances for months for nothing?

Quickly they made their way to the group, as Harry cast a subtle Muffliato for what he desperately hoped was the final time.

“Pansy, we need to break up,” Draco said with a nervous smile as she looked absolutely floored.

“Er, what?” Pansy asked, sitting up.

“I’m telling Mother that I’m gay, so I need that ring back to send to her,” Draco said. “Oh, or maybe I should keep it. I bet it would fetch a few galleons and help pay for my tuition.”

Harry poked him in the ribs. “Give it back to her, it’s probably an heirloom or something, and you don’t want to piss her off more. Besides, I’m paying for your school, it’s decided.”

“Wait, what?” Hermione said, looking for once like Harry often felt in the middle of a lecture, like she needed someone to take a few extra minutes to explain properly, in small words that she could understand.

“Draco was worried about paying for his posh school if his mum decides to cut him off,” Harry said in a falsely cheery voice. “So, he’s moving in with me after school ends and I’m paying for his first term.”

“Draco, are you serious?” Pansy asked, her hand going to pull that dratted engagement ring from her finger. Harry felt a wide grin threaten to split his face.

“Apparently my boyfriend is swimming in galleons, so yes,” Draco said smugly, holding out a hand.

“If he’s rich why does he dress like that?” Pansy asked with a wave to Harry’s clothes.

“Hey!” Harry exclaimed. His clothes weren’t that bad. Were they? “Is that any way to talk to your new landlord?”

“New landlord?” Blaise asked, as Hermione began smiling too.

“Oh yes, my rich boyfriend also owns a huge ugly house and is inviting all of us to move in when school ends.” Draco said smugly, Harry laughed again. “For free,” Draco added as Pansy’s shocked expression turned into one of great delight.

“Harry, are you serious?” She asked.

“Yep,” Harry said nonchalantly. “You and Luna can have your own room. Or separate if you’d rather. But there is something I need you to do for me.” Pansy looked expectant. “You have to help me decorate; I wasn’t kidding when I said the place is ugly. I can’t be trusted when it comes to things like curtains and tables.”

“We wouldn’t want the entire house to be done in hideous scarlet and gold,” Pansy agreed gravely, before jumping up and flinging her arms around him. “Thank you, thank you so much,” she muttered in his ear before releasing him. “I suppose I need to compose my own letter. Luna, coming?”

Luna pressed her hand into his as she walked past, a radiant smile on her face.

Harry felt his own wide smile stretch across his face and nodded to Hermione and Blaise, before turning to leave with Draco.

They walked up the stone staircases, a nervous silence thick between them. Harry knew Draco was scared to take this huge step, and he himself was scared it wouldn’t happen, that Draco would talk himself out of it at the last second. They crossed halls, Harry wishing he knew a way to distract his silver-haired boyfriend as he felt the tension wind tighter and tighter.

Eventually, they reached the Owlery. A pair of Gryffindor sixth year girls that Harry knew by sight, if not name, were leaving just as they approached.

One of them elbowed the other and nudged her forward.

“Harry!” She said with a level of familiarity he didn’t think was quite appropriate.

“Yes?” Harry said slowly, not sure he could afford this distraction when he was trying to focus on Draco.

“I just want you to know, we don’t believe the lies Ginny told the Prophet.” She said with a winning smile.

Harry frowned. “What lies? What’s the newest headline, Draco?”

Draco feigned along. “I’m not sure, I think it was something about you not finding a man worth your time here at Hogwarts? Absolute drivel, in my opinion.”

“Yeah, that was utter rubbish,” Harry agreed, catching Draco’s eye.

“I knew it! See Samantha, I told you Harry Potter isn’t gay!” The forward one said, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder.

“What?” Harry asked, widening his eyes in mock confusion. “I am gay.”

“But you just said… The headlines were lying…” The brunette stammered.

“Oh yes, they are,” Harry agreed cheerfully, stepping around them. “I’ve definitely found a bloke worth my time here at Hogwarts.” He ruffled his hair, making sure they got a good glimpse of the love bite on the back of his neck. He heard them fall to whispers and smirked as he pushed open the Owlery door.

The ledges were still coated in owl shite, and the floors were slick with regurgitated rodents and pellets. It stank of feathers and feces and still Harry felt a wave of nostalgia crash over him.

Draco came into the Owlery just behind him, almost walking into him as he stood stock still in the entrance. The last time he had been in here, he had been handing Hedwig a letter. He didn’t even remember who he was sending it to or what it was about, but he remembered her amber eyes and her affectionate nip with a painful clench of his heart.

He stood silently for a moment, as Draco coaxed his huge Eurasian Eagle-Owl onto his forearm. “Jason, this is Harry. Harry, this is Jason.”

Harry felt his tension snap as he let out an unmanly giggle. Who named their owl Jason?

“Jason?” He asked weakly, trying to keep from breaking out into full laughter.

“Yes, Jason,” Draco said stiffly, even the owl looked affronted.

“I’m sorry, but have you named your owl a common Muggle name? I just never pictured you for that kind of rebellion.” Harry said, still wheezing.

“I’ll have you know that Jason was a famous hero, leader of the Argonauts, husband of Medea,” Draco said with his nose in the air. Jason tried to look regal too, but Harry couldn’t believe it of an owl with that name.

“If you say so, love,” Harry chuckled.

“Ignore him,” Draco told his owl. “We’ll be living with him come summer, but for now we can be rude.”

Harry giggled again, and Draco threw a dangerous look his way. He sobered immediately.

“I want you to take this to Mother. Don’t give it to anyone but her, not even Tippy.” The owl bobbed his head, clearly understanding his instructions as he held a leg out for Draco to tie the missive.

“Who’s Tippy?” Harry asked.

“My house elf,” Draco said absently, walking to the window to launch Jason into the air with a practiced flip of his wrist.

Draco stood by the window ledge, and Harry crossed the slippery floor to join him. They watched Jason shrink into nothing, side by side in the chilly wind.

As soon as Jason was no longer in sight, Draco faced him slowly.

“I suppose that’s that.” Draco said.

“Yes, I think it is,” Harry said softly, his heart swelling enormously. He caught look of Draco’s face. “Oh, love, it’s okay, I promise it’s going to be okay.”

“What if she hates me?” Draco whispered, now staring at the sky as if he could Summon Jason back with his eyes.

“She’ll come ‘round,” Harry said, not wanting to give Draco false promises.

“You don’t know that.” Draco said, holding onto the dirty window frame tightly.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned, its that you should never underestimate a mother’s love,” Harry said softly.

“Easy for you to say, your mother died trying to save you,” Draco whispered, as though hoping not to offend him. But Harry wasn’t offended.

“Your mother risked her own life, lying to Voldemort, just to find out if you were alive. She gave you her wand in the middle of a war. She loves you,” Harry said confidently.

“Do you really think so?” Draco asked, his silver eyes unguarded and reflecting the sky outside.

“I really do,” Harry said gently. “Come on, let’s go back. I want to snog you in the Common Room.”

“That was a joke!” Draco protested as he followed Harry out of the Owlery. Harry darted one last glance to Hedwig’s favorite perch, a couple of school owls now sharing the space.

“What about holding your hand then?” Harry asked jovially as the walked down a deserted corridor.

“What is it with you and holding hands?” Draco asked.

“Only people in relationships hold hands in public,” Harry said wistfully, as they turned left into a corridor full of empty classrooms.

After a pause, Harry felt long slim fingers cover his own. He tried to keep a soppy smile off of his face as Draco hesitantly took his hand. It didn’t work and he felt himself grin.

“Pleased with yourself, are you?” Draco muttered.

“Pleased with you,” Harry countered, glancing around before shuffling Draco into an unused room. He kicked the door shut behind himself, before backing Draco against a desk.

“You just came out,” Harry breathed, attacking Draco’s throat.

“It needed to be done,” Draco said in a strangled voice. “Ergh, Harry, not the neck.”

“Why not?” Harry demanded, dropping his mouth reluctantly to Draco’s shoulder. Irritably he pulled Draco’s collar over, to give himself a place to kiss, as Draco froze.

“There is no reason why not,” Draco said after a moment of shocked silence.

“Mmhmm,” Harry mumbled encouragingly, his lips pressed firmly to Draco’s skin. He slowly started unbuttoning Draco’s shirt, dropping kisses along the pale soft canvas.

He felt his prick grow heavy as he latched onto the front of Draco’s throat. High enough to be seen in casual clothes, but low enough to be covered by his school tie. Draco tipped his head back, groaning lightly, as Harry fumbled with his belt.

Soon Harry had the right of it, and he pressed his palm against the stiff erection in Draco’s pants. Rubbing his hand along Draco’s cock, he used his other to tug Draco’s face down for a heated snog.

Harry smirked into Draco’s mouth, before lowering his face to plant a few more love bites along Draco’s scarred skin. Slowly, he drifted lower and lower, his hand still busy in Draco’s trousers.

Eventually, he wound up on his knees, tugging the waistband of Draco’s pants down. He licked along Draco’s shaft, sliding his foreskin back with his palm.

“Gods, yes, Harry,” Draco said, his hands scrabbling on the desk behind him.

Harry smirked before taking Draco into his mouth. He deliberately kept the pressure of his suction light, rubbing the head of Draco’s cock along the roof of his mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” Draco moaned quietly. Harry hummed appreciatively, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling of Draco’s heavy prick on his tongue. His own erection was becoming more and more insistent with every noise Draco made and he shifted slightly. Draco’s arousal wound him tighter, as he swirled his tongue around the head of Draco’s cock.

“I want you to touch yourself.” Draco growled suddenly and Harry felt himself shiver at the command.

He quickly undid his fastenings, reaching in with one hand to pull out his erection. He gave a few pumps before glancing up.

Draco’s eyes were latched onto his busy hand, expression ravenous. He felt on display, as he had that very morning. There was something about Draco’s gaze however, that was empowering rather than embarrassing. He found himself spreading his knees further, to give Draco a better view.

Draco’s appreciative eyes and sounds had him burning up, as Draco’s fingers took a firm hold of his thick curls.

He barely lasted five minutes, before he was coming for the third time that day, all over Draco’s dragonhide shoes.

“Harry,” Draco said desperately, shuddering forward slightly. Harry relaxed his throat and stayed perfectly still, letting Draco thrust his prick in and out of his mouth. Almost immediately he felt Draco’s cock pulse, and the back of his throat was flooded with hot, salty come. He swallowed quickly, before he felt Draco tugging on his locks to get him to release his cock. Harry let Draco drop out of his mouth, resting his head against Draco’s hip.

“Come here,” Draco mumbled, tugging Harry to his feet. “You’re brilliant,” Draco said, kissing him softly.

“Consider it a reward,” Harry breathed, placing a kiss onto Draco’s collarbone.

“Reward?” Draco asked in befuddlement.

“For being brave,” Harry said with a smirk.

“Is this why Gryffindors are noted for their bravery? You all suck each other off whenever one of you does something heroic?” Draco teased, absently doing up his trousers.

“Oh, yes, before you there was a long line of people on their knees for me every time I risked my life, starting our very first year.” Harry deadpanned.

Something dark and almost dangerous drifted behind Draco’s eyes. “It’s a good thing I know you’re joking, or I’d be tempted to kill each and every person that had tasted you.”

The choice of wording was not lost on Harry as he was briefly awash in memories of that very morning when Draco had rimmed him to within an inch of his life. His flagging erection twitched, making it obvious exactly where his mind had gone.

Draco smirked. He leaned down, making a fist over Harry cock, and whispered in Harry’s ear. “Do you think I could make you come four times in one day?”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat as he nodded, already feeling his prick growing heavy once again. Draco began pumping slowly, pulling a needy moan from Harry’s lips.

“I think we should continue this in a bed, where I can take my time. Meet in the room of whomever gets back to the Common Room first,” Draco said with a devious grin, releasing his grip and stepping away before Harry, in his lust-addled state, could make a grab for him. Draco tossed a smirk over his shoulder as he dashed from the room.

He pictured Umbridge in the shower, that particularly revolting image had always seemed to resolve this issue the quickest.

As soon as he had himself under control, he buttoned up his trousers, becoming rapidly annoyed. Fine thing it was when his boyfriend left him with his pants down on Valentine’s Day!

He stomped out of the room, kicking the door open, which only earned him a sore toe for his trouble. He ground his teeth in frustration, before marching in the direction of the eighth year dorms.

Harry groaned, suddenly understanding what Draco was doing. He must still be worried about holding hands in the bloody Common Room and had decided to give himself a head start. If he had just said so, they could have walked back together, Harry would have understood.

Lost in his thoughts, he turned a corner and stopped out of reflex, something twinging off his alarms.

He squinted, what was that strange lump at the end of the corridor?

His heart started racing as he noticed a silver blond braid laying in what looked like a large amount of blood.

Next to Draco stood a figure in black school robes, watching Draco struggle to breathe with interest. The crimson liquid came close to the student’s boots, and they merely took a small step back.

Harry screamed, “STUPEFY!” His wandless hex caught the student in the chest, and they flew back, landing over two meters away, unconscious.

He ran forward, pulling his wand out as he went. He once again cursed his lack of knowledge when it came to healing spells, as his complete attention turned to Draco.

Draco looked paler than usual, his blood pooling behind his head. Harry frantically felt the pale neck for a pulse and was flooded with relief when it came strong and steady under his fingers.

He cast his Patronus. The handsome swan regarded him steadily. Harry wasn’t sure he could send a message with a patronus, he had never even tried, but desperation leant urgency to his actions.

“’Mione, Draco’s been cursed! We’re close, by that stupid tapestry with the unicorns! Hurry!” He said frantically. “Now go, get Hermione!”

The ethereal swan dove away, flying swiftly in the correct direction.

Harry pulled off his jumper, pressing it to the side of Draco’s head where he was still bleeding freely.

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry mumbled, “just hold on, ‘Mione’s on her way, she’ll patch you right up.”

He held the knit jumper to Draco’s head, trying not to hurt him, as the yarn steadily soaked through. It seemed an age, though he knew it probably had only been a few minutes before Hermione slid to a stop next to him.

She almost fell over, catching herself on a wall sconce. Quickly she opened her small, beaded bag.

“Move your hands,” Hermione said, as Harry hastened to get out of the way. She slowly pulled the sopping jumper from Draco’s scalp.

“Where are they?” Hermione asked distractedly as she sprinkled steaming Dittany on Draco’s wound.

“Where are who?” Harry asked, reaching out a shaking hand to take Draco’s, comforted by the slight contact.

“McGonagall and Pomfrey,” Hermione said absently, peeling one of Draco’s eyelids back. “I sent for them as soon as I got your Patronus.”

“You really do keep a cool head under pressure,” came the thick Scottish brogue of Headmistress McGonagall.

“Have you considered Healing?” Madame Pomfrey said, stepping out from behind a door that Harry was sure had refused to open for him the entire time he had been at Hogwarts. His raised eyebrows were noted by the Headmistress, as Hermione and Pomfrey bent heads over Draco.

“Hogwarts has many ways of making sure faculty can always get to where they are truly needed. Surely, you’ve noticed a few interruptions over the years? Though she has a certain disregard for school rules that I know you’ve profited from, such as your break-in at Ravenclaw Tower. And she seems especially fond of you and Draco since you’ve both worked so hard to restore her.” Headmistress McGonagall said with a fond pat to one of the walls.

Harry brain threatened to short circuit at that, so he decided to process that news later, still keeping his eyes on Draco’s inert form.

“Is he going to be okay?” Harry asked worriedly.

“What?” Madame Pomfrey said. “Oh, yes, Mr. Malfoy will be just fine, but I need to take him to the Infirmary.” She magicked a stretcher into existence, levitating Draco onto it smoothly. She marched back to the door, and it swung open for her easily. “You can meet us there.”

“Do you know who cursed Mr. Malfoy?” The Headmistress asked when Draco was cut off from his line of sight. He shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, I Stupefied them, they’re just there,” Harry said, pointing. He glanced down the hall and saw no one. “What? Where did they go?”

“They must have woken up,” Hermione said gently.

“Fuck!” Harry shouted.

“Mr. Potter, language!” McGonagall barked.

“Sorry, Headmistress,” Harry mumbled, doubly incensed.

McGonagall looked like she was valiantly trying to control an eye roll. “It is understandable when one you love has been hurt, but please try to remember that this is a school full of children. Both of you may head to Hospital Wing now.”

Hermione thanked the Headmistress as Harry mumbled his appreciation, already turning toward the Infirmary. As soon as they were out of sight of McGonagall, Harry broke into a sprint, Hermione hastening to keep up.

Harry careened through the halls, knocking into suits of armor, and grabbing at portrait frames to keep his balance. The occupants shrieked at him, their painted hands pushing and flapping ineffectually.

“Sorry, sorry!” he kept saying, as Hermione fell further and further behind.

He reached the Hospital Wing in record time, rebounding off of the doorframe in his haste to get into the Infirmary.

He stopped abruptly, his eyes disbelieving.

Draco was sitting in a patient’s bed, happily chatting with Blaise, Pansy, and Luna. Madame Pomfrey was no where to be seen, which reaffirmed Draco’s wellbeing.

“What?” Harry panted, valiantly trying to catch his breath, unable to gasp out any more words.

“Are you okay?” Luna asked, giggling lightly.

Hermione launched into the room behind him, smashing into him, sending them both down in a tangle of limbs and sharp elbows.

“Are you two alright?” Draco asked hesitantly from his bed, as Blaise helped Hermione to her feet.

Harry kept his place on the floor, laying on his back, and waving away Pansy’s help.

“We’re fine,” Hermione said as Harry started laughing helplessly.

“You were cursed, again,” Harry chuckled from the stone floor. “And you’re asking if I’m okay after a little tumble?”

“Of the two of us, I’d say I was in better shape,” Draco said with a wry smile as Harry lifted up and wrapped his arms around his knees, staying on the ground for a moment to catch his breath.

“You’re probably right,” Harry said cheerfully, pleased Draco seemed truly unscathed. He stood up slowly and crossed to Draco’s bed. He squeezed in between Pansy and Blaise and grabbed Draco’s hand.

“You’re freezing, love,” Harry said softly, rubbing Draco’s icy hand briskly.

“Yes, that’s the blood loss. The Blood-Rejuvenation Potion will set me right once I take it.”

“Where is it?” Harry asked, glancing at the table for a vial or bottle.

“I sent it back. Gave Slughorn a better way to brew it. Should be ready in about ten minutes.”

"It could have been sooner?” Harry asked quietly.

“Oh, yes,” Draco said simply, his eyes drifting shut. “If I wanted a pounding migraine for the rest of the day.”

“He’s fine,” Pansy explained softly, “Madame Pomfrey said the blood loss is making him drift in and out. He’ll wake up in a few minutes.”

“That’s been the most awake he’s been since Madame Pomfrey tried to get him to drink the ‘sub-standard, vile, outdated, and entirely unacceptable blood replenishing potion’.” Blaise said with a smirk as he levitated over a chair for Hermione.

Harry shook his head at his irascible boyfriend and conjured a chair for himself. It only had to last ten minutes and he knew his conjuring skills were at least strong enough for that.

Draco drifted in and out of consciousness a few more times before Slughorn walked in with the improved potion. Madame Pomfrey bustled over to oversee its administration as Draco sniffed the potion disparagingly.

"It seems to be acceptable,” Draco said after a brief sniff. Slughorn looked amused as Pansy and Blaise exchanged startled glances.

“Draco,” Pansy whispered loudly. “Remember yourself. Professor Slughorn’s recommendation is one of the reasons you were invited to Golpalott’s Institute.”

“I beg your pardon,” Draco said, drawing himself up apologetically. The effect was somehow ruined when his eyes began to droop shut again. Luna dove forward and caught the potion just before it tipped over.

Slughorn chuckled. “Leave him be, he’s talented enough to get away with it. But don’t tell him I told you all that! Let him think I left in a right tiff. I’d love to see how he tries to make it up to me.” With that Slughorn gave a cheerful wave of his hand and left the Hospital Wing, nodding to the Headmistress as they crossed paths.

“How is Mr. Malfoy, Poppy?” McGonagall asked as she stood at the end of Draco’s bed.

“He just needs to take this blood replenishing potion and he’ll be right off. It seems he didn’t sustain any real damage this time around.”

Harry frowned, what did you call the damage that caused a pool of blood half the size of a keeper’s hoop? Not real indeed!

“He had a deep laceration to his scalp, but no fractures or breaks. Looks like his shield charm absorbed the entire curse, he just cut his head when he was flung backward. Good thing too, a skull fracture would have taken him ages to heal."

“What do you mean,” Hermione asked with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, I didn’t realize, I really shouldn’t have said anything,” Madame Pomfrey dithered.

“It’s fine,” Draco said, coming to yet again. “You can tell them anything. Where is that dratted potion? I’d prefer not to fall asleep again.”

Luna handed him the potion and he swallowed it in one go, grimacing at the taste.

“Why must it always taste of metal?” he muttered to himself. “To answer your question Hermione, I’m highly allergic to Chinese Chomping Cabbage. Since that is the main healing ingredient to Skele-Gro, I’m forced to heal bones the muggle way. I fractured my elbow third year and we all remember how long that took to heal.”

“Wait, so you were really hurt when Buckbeak attacked you?” Hermione asked, swiftly interpreting his meaning while Harry felt like he was still floundering along.

“Oh, I’ll admit I hammed it up to get a few perks, like having Weasel and Potty at my beck in call in Potions. But yes, it took about six weeks to heal.”

“Wait a second,” Harry said, his brow furrowed. “I confronted you about that! You admitted that you were faking it!”

“Would you have believed me if I had told you the truth? Besides, I figured it would annoy you the most.” Draco smirked.

“Well, you were right about that!” Harry laughed. “God, we were both such prats.”

Headmistress McGonagall broke in with a clearing of her throat. “Mr. Malfoy, since you were first cursed, I have had the castle on high alert. The suits of armor have been watching you wherever you go. The ghosts have kept tabs. Each time you’ve been hexed since then I have pulled the caster aside and doled out the punishment I deemed appropriate. Today a portrait saw who cursed you and I have delt with the matter as I saw fit.”

“Who was it,” Harry asked swiftly. “Were they the same student that cursed Draco last term?”

"I’m not going to tell you who it was, Mr. Potter, you have too much a tendency towards vigilante justice. It is not your fault; you are a product of your upbringing.” Here McGonagall paused as if she had more she wished to say. She shook herself slightly. “Sufficient to say, the matter has been handled and is now closed. The student will not attack Draco again, you have my word.”

“But,” Harry said-

“Is that acceptable, Mr. Malfoy?” Something unspoken seemed to pass between the two as Draco nodded slowly.

"Of course, Headmistress, your judgement has always been exemplary in these matters,” Draco said formally.

McGonagall gave a brief nod to the group at large before quitting the room.

“Well, Mr. Malfoy, I just need to run a few diagnostic spells and then you’re free to go.”

Harry shuffled his feet, impatiently waiting for his boyfriend to be done. As soon as Draco was discharged, Harry grabbed his elbow and hauled him from the Infirmary, Luna and Pansy in tow.

Hermione stayed behind, saying she needed a quick word with Madame Pomfrey. Blaise didn’t look particularly surprised and elected to stay as well.

“What’s betting they’re pregnant?” Pansy asked cheerfully as they traipsed through the stone halls.

“As if Hermione is that careless,” Draco said.

“Why else would a couple need to talk to the school nurse?” Pansy asked seriously.

Harry pondered that through the halls, trying to imagine a tiny baby screaming through the halls of Grimmauld Place. Just as he had begun to imagine playing peek-a-boo and food being flung onto the floors for a harried Kreacher to clean, he decided that a baby might not be the worst thing. He privately thought Hermione was ridiculously young for one, as he didn’t feel mature enough to decorate his house alone, let alone care for a newborn, but that was her own choice, really.

Harry felt himself jolt from his thoughts as they paused in front of Saudade. Something seemed to pass between his boyfriend and the portrait, as Saudade nodded solemnly at them and Draco firmly wound his fingers into Harry’s own. He raised shocked eyes to Draco’s impossibly soft ones, and Draco leaned down and wrapped his free hand into Harry’s nape. Harry froze for a moment and then relaxed into the intoxicating feel of Draco's lips against his own, just as Saudade slid aside.

Chapter Text

Draco stood silently as Blaise shook Harry’s hand and Hermione theatrically threw her arms around his neck.

“We’ll see you in a few days,” Hermione said loudly for the benefit of the reporters that had greeted them as the Hogwarts Express had disgorged the students leaving for Easter Break. The flash of a few bulbs went off, catching his arms politely around her shoulders. He kept a warm smile on his face, understanding that Hermione was just trying to help in her own way.

He knew it was futile and that the headlines tomorrow would probably read nonsense such as he had stolen her from Harry, resulting in Harry turning from women all together. He appreciated her efforts nonetheless as he, Harry, Pansy, and Luna waved their goodbyes. The reporters shouted questions and more bulbs flashed as Hermione and Blaise Disapparated directly from the platform.

Draco took a deep breath as Harry turned and led them all from the platform into the muggle ‘King’s Cross’. The crowds were almost overwhelming as Draco looked up at the bright geometrical ceiling. The noises were such that he didn’t even hear Pansy shouting at him until she tugged on his elbow, him still staring at the masses of people streaming from a newly arrived train.

At least he assumed it was a train, it looked nothing like the Hogwarts Express. It was shiny and smooth and silver, and he watched in amazement as the doors opened with no help from the muggles.

“Are we sure the muggles don’t have magic?” Draco asked her quietly. She looked as composed as always but the slightly panicked look in her eye belied how nervous she was.

“I have no bloody idea, so can we please catch up?” She asked desperately. Draco looked on to see Harry waiting patiently, Luna glancing around in wordless delight.

The smells of dirt and sweat and some odd oily scent that reminded him of bubotuber pus were overpowering as he allowed Pansy to tug him back to the others.

“Are we alone?” Pansy asked, after almost grabbing Luna’s hand.

“Definitely not yet,” Harry said softly, turning away to lead them through innumerable halls and rooms. Draco and Pansy followed him like lost ducklings as Luna cheerfully skipped ahead.

Before Draco had any time to process his first muggle outing, they had reached the exit, doors opening to the grey outdoors. Harry waved a hand over each of them in what he explained was a wandless spell checking for any tracking spells or the like from the reporters. Harry found three and subtly touched the wood of his wand as he disabled them. Draco looked on, still devouring the muggle sights before him. The buildings were huge and as far as the drizzling morning allowed him to see. He shook his head.

A line of huge muggle contraptions were waiting, growling like a thunder of dragons. Draco tried not to show his fear as Harry waved at one. Harry flung open a side of one of the metal monsters, holding his hand out to Pansy to help her in. Draco followed. Harry went to let Luna in next, but he must have seen the panic in Draco’s eyes, because he tucked Luna into the front seat, sitting next to Draco instead.

“Where to?” asked the muggle with a cheerful lisp through her half-missing teeth. Harry surreptitiously strapped him across the waist, clicking a lock into place, before leaning across to repeat the process with Pansy. Draco stared in jealousy, hers crossed her chest and looked much more secure than the single strap across his lap. How dangerous was this, for him to need to be strapped down?

“Do you know Grimmauld Place?” Harry asked cheerfully, buckling his own safety strap in.

“Oh yes, out in Islington is it?”

“That’s right,” Harry agreed pleasantly as the metal chamber they were in shuddered forward. Draco grabbed Harry’s thigh tightly, trying to breath. He noticed Pansy’s knuckles were also white against the safety strap in her lap.

An eternity later, after innumerable bumps that had threatened to burst every aneurism he hadn’t known he’d had, the ‘taxi’ as Harry had called it, slowed to a stop. Harry handed over a wad of fragile notes, before opening the door and helping each of them out.

Pansy looked as green as he felt as Luna waved cheerfully at the taxi as it roared away.

Draco took Harry’s hand in his, carefully pretending that he wasn’t vibrating with stress.

True, he had shown the entire eighth year he was Moon Frog weeks ago, the surprised silence of the entire Common Room had been somewhat satisfactory when he had finally released Harry from his embrace. He had seen Seamus and Dean’s smirks as Longbottom looked absolutely floored.

He had proudly walked Harry though the Common Room, hand in hand, until they had reached Harry’s room. There, he had promptly collapsed on the bed.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to tell the whole school,” Draco had whispered from between his fingers, as he had sat shaking on his bed. “At least not until I know where my mother stands.”

“Love, it’s okay if you don’t want to let everyone know. The others won’t say anything, I promise.”

“Are you sure?” Draco had asked, glancing up at a gentle-looking Harry. “Do you really mind?”

“You told your mum; you’ve done the hardest bit. We can take our time with the rest.” Harry had said, his voice the gentle tone Draco always melted into. “At least now I know you really do want to be with me, that you see a future.” The last bit Harry had whispered while ducking his head away.

Draco had immediately grabbed the hand Harry had to his shoulder, pulling it to his cheek. “Darling, there is nothing I want more than a future with you.”

It left them in a murky place. They exchanged brief kisses in the Common Room and no longer hid that they slept in the same room, but Draco still hadn't plucked up the nerve to hold Harry’s hand in the halls of Hogwarts.

He felt as if the eighth year's dorm was his safe little bubble, the one place he could relax and be himself. After a slight adjustment period, and some awkward teasing, the entire eighth year group had accepted their relationship with a level of ease that had shocked him.

Draco put it down to the weight of the Savior's approval, as even Longbottom had ceased his suspicious looks.

But now they were in muggle London and Draco had talked himself into taking Harry’s hand outdoors. No matter the fact that these weren’t people that knew him or Harry, Draco could feel the back of his neck crawl with the feeling of being watched.

They stood opposite a line of houses that had unusual numbering, Draco hoping Harry didn’t notice how clammy his palm was. Number Twelve inflated between the other houses in front of incredulous eyes.

He shivered as he remembered Hermione’s words from just the night before. She had pulled him, Pansy, and Luna aside and whispered Harry’s address.

Harry now explained that shortly after the war he had disabled a previous Fidelius Charm, only to reinstate it with Hermione as the sole Secret-Keeper.

“The reporters were going rabid, trying everything to find my house. I even found one shrunk down in my cloak pocket after Colin Creevey’s funeral. It was easier to just have Hermione tell me how to fix it. Plus, there were still a lot of unaccounted Death Eaters, and they had been let in on the enchantment.”

“What did you do with the reporter?” Pansy asked, smoothly sidestepping the Death Eater reference while drawing Luna even closer in the chilly drizzle.

“Hermione put him in an Unbreakable jar and muggle-mailed him to the Ministry,” Harry said with a sheepish shuffle of his trainers.

“Remind me to declare my undying love for that witch when she gets back,” Pansy said as Luna tugged on her hair in response. “Ouch!”

“Shacklebolt owled me a few days later, he was fine!” Harry said as Draco laughed with Pansy.

“Of course he was, darling,” Draco said with a roll of his eyes. “As if Hermione would even accidentally hurt someone.”

“Alright, are you all ready to see how wretched your new home is?” Harry said cheerfully, as he led the way up the cracked path. “Now don’t be alarmed when I open the door, there are a few defensive spells still in effect that aren’t very pleasant. But nothing that will harm you!” Harry said quickly as Draco caught Pansy’s alarmed eye. “Oh, and there’s a very opinionated portrait I’m hoping you can help me remove. She’s got the most earsplitting shriek.”

“What a lovely way to make us feel welcome.” Draco said drily. Harry huffed at him and opened the door, stepping over the threshold into the dark cavernous hallway. Draco took a deep breath and followed his boyfriend into the gloom.

A specter with long beard and gnarled hands passed through Harry, looming at him, “Severus” echoed deeply through the hall.

Draco choked on his own tongue, more irritated that someone had hit him with a Tongue-Tying Jinx than the stupid ghoul. He was Pureblood after all, he had grown up knowing ghosts and phantoms.

He glanced behind, at Pansy, sure she had Jinxed him for some imagined slight, only to see her and Luna also gagging.

“Salazar’s sack, Harry!” Draco gasped.

“Sorry, I did tell you there were protective enchantments still in place.” Harry whispered.

Draco hacked again before reaching into the pocket of his trousers for a Cough Potion. Quickly he swallowed it in one go.

“Show us our new home,” Luna asked brightly, patting Pansy’s back.

“Unwelcome guests! Children of filth! Blood traitors!” The disagreeable old portrait began shrieking across the hall.

“Help me close her curtains, that usually shuts her up,” Harry shouted cheerfully over her distressed yelling.

“Is this the portrait you want to remove?” Draco asked conversationally, as he wrestled with the curtains.

The portrait froze. “Young Lucius? What are you doing among such mixed company?”

“Mixed company!” Pansy said with a dramatic sweep of her wrist to her brow, as though she could not bear any such thought.

“I am Draco, son to Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, madame.” Draco said with a deep, sarcastic bow. The portrait looked expectant. “Behind me is Luna, daughter to Pandora and Xenophilius Lovegood, and Pansy, daughter to Dahlia and Rigel Parkinson. Of course, you know your heir, Harry, son to Lily and James Potter, godson to the late Sirius Black.”

“All good names, good families,” the portrait muttered quietly.

“I believe you are my great aunt Walburga Black?” Draco said, reading the inscription below her dingy frame.

“Yes, yes, how lovely to see you, dear boy, and to bring such honored guests into the Black family home,” Walburga said in a simpering tone.

“Oh, it was all Harry’s idea, he was thinking of restoring the house to it’s former glory, inviting us to live here with him next year, along with a Blaise Zabini,” Another good name, was muttered. “And Hermione Granger.”

The portrait took a deep breath, as if to begin screaming again.

“The Dark Lord is dead,” Draco said flatly. “Along with his ideology. It is time to accept the present or be left in the past, Aunt.”

“The Dark Lord is dead?” Walburga whispered.

“He is. Harry himself killed him. We all saw it happen.” Draco said as Pansy and Luna nodded fervently behind him. Harry had the grace to look embarrassed as he rubbed the back of his neck while Walburga pierced him with her glittering eyes.

“You’re quite sure?” Walburga asked softly.

“We are,” Draco said, not shirking from her gaze.

“Kreacher!” Walburga screamed.

“He won’t answer to her, he can’t hear her if he’s not in the same building,” Draco whispered fervently to Harry. “Summon him!”

“Kreacher!” Harry exclaimed, “I need you!”

“Master Harry,” An ancient, bowed elf said as it popped into existence next to the portrait of Walburga. “Are we back home for good? Would you be caring for refreshments in the drawing room?”

“Not quite, Kreacher,” Harry said respectfully. “Your mistress has a few questions for you.”

Draco watched politely as Kreacher explained to the portrait that the Dark Lord was indeed gone, and that Harry had seen fit to gift the elf with an heirloom of Regulus’s.

The portrait refused to listen to reason, citing again and again obscure reasoning for following the Dark Lord. Draco quickly realized the futility of Kreacher’s reasonings. “Kreacher,” he said quietly. “She’s just a painting, she doesn’t have a mind to change.”

Kreacher looked at him with wide eyes, ceasing his arguing with the portrait.

“Pansy, you’re in charge of redecorating,” Draco said quickly, “do you think this wall is structural?”

“Oh, it might be, but I know a few enchantments to get around that,” Pansy said pleasantly as Walburga exhaled sharply. “What’s on the other side, Harry? The parlor?” at Harry’s bemused nod, Pansy continued. “You could remove this entire wall and really open the place up, if you wanted to.”

“You wouldn’t dare! Draco!” Walburga wailed, appealing to her nephew.

“Oh, I absolutely would dare, Aunt. Either watch your tongue or we’ll remove you.” Draco said sharply.

“Tea will be served in the drawing room in one hour,” Kreacher croaked, as Walburga seemed speechless.

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Draco said, “Perhaps you could join us for just a moment later?”

“Of course, Master Malfoy,” Kreacher croaked with a bow deep enough to brush his nose to the tatty carpets.

“Alright, you can choose any rooms you like, as long as they aren’t Hermione’s or Sirius’s,” Harry said with a smile at the two girls.

“How will we know?” Pansy asked.

“Just avoid the only two rooms with Gryffindor colors,” Harry said with a laugh.

Pansy and Luna exchanged glances and then took off, Pansy chasing Luna as she shrieked in laughter.

Draco shook his head in amusement, turning expectantly to his boyfriend. “We should probably leave them be for a while.”

Harry laughed and turned, leading Draco up three flights of stairs. “The largest is up here, sorry for all the stairs.”

“That’s to be expected in a traditional home,” Draco said. “Intruders have to get through the entire lower household before reaching the estate owners.”

“That seems a little callous,” Harry said with a frown as he drew open a door at the end of a hall.

“To the Savior, I’m sure it does,” Draco said with a smirk as Harry spluttered his annoyance at the nickname. “But it’s the way things were done.” He gave an appraising eye at the dusty space, mentally planning the work it might need to make it habitable.

“Would you mind Summoning Kreacher? I need to have a word,” Draco asked absently, as he Vanished a pile of feathers. He noticed Harry picking one up reverently and stopped, confused.

“Sirius had Buckbeak stay in here during the war.” Harry whispered. “Said it would annoy his mum.”

Draco glanced around with fresh eyes. There was definitely more than dust in the corners of the room. He was pretty sure the piles of bones and dung would need elf magic to remove the stains.

“Kreacher,” Draco said loudly, realizing Harry was too lost in memories to help. “Would you join us please?”

One loud crack later and Kreacher was standing just in front of him. Draco smiled to himself, this was going to be much easier than he had anticipated. If the elf was already listening for him, he had passed the first hurdle of being accepted by the house.

Now for the tricky part.

“Kreacher, as you know Master Harry is currently finishing school and cannot spend all of his time living here,” Draco began as Kreacher watched him with bulbous watery eyes. “However, when term ends in a couple of months, he’ll be moving back in. He has invited me here as his partner. As such we’ll be sharing a room, so I hope certain adjustments can be made.” Kreacher nodded happily, obviously pleased to have people to wait on again. “One of those adjustments is that I have my own house elf, Tippy.”

“The Black home will be having another elf?” Kreacher asked carefully.

“You won’t mind the extra help, will you Kreacher?” Harry interjected, as Kreacher’s face fell.

“Harry,” Draco said warningly, unable to give a more pointed remark as the house was only just learning his habits, “I apologize, Kreacher, just give him a little more time, I’m doing my best. Perhaps you understand how uphill my battle has been?” Draco said as Kreacher choked a laugh and then darted his eyes guiltily at Harry.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“Shhh,” he directed at his tousled boyfriend. Harry had the grace to hush even as he looked affronted.

“Kreacher, as I was saying, I have my own elf. As we are the ones joining your household, we need to make sure certain traditions are observed. Firstly, as the senior elf, you will have the better quarters. Where do you sleep?” He asked, already knowing the answer from the questions he had peppered Harry with over the past few weeks.

“In the kitchens, Master Malfoy,” Kreacher said, his candy floss-filled ears wobbling.

“Now that won’t do, I’m afraid,” Draco said smoothly, “Malfoy elves have always had their own quarters. Tippy certainly can’t be expected to downgrade simply because your master hasn’t promoted you as he should have.”

“Oi! I tried to give him a proper room, but he wouldn’t accept it!” Harry burst in. Draco directed a flat look at his boyfriend.

“So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to Summon Tippy tomorrow and you two will sort out rooms befitting the honor of serving the Black, Malfoy, and Potter names. I’ll also need you to decide which chores fall to each of you, though as the superior, you’ll undoubtably fill more honorary and traditional roles. Just as Tippy will certainly attend to all of my personal needs. I leave it to your wisdom and experience to decide matters to ensure a smooth transition.”

“Of course, Master Malfoy, of course,” Kreacher croaked as he bowed again, almost as lowly as he had before.

“Oh,” Draco said as though only just thinking of it, “Harry and I have luncheon plans, would you please prioritize cleaning this room while we’re out? I really can’t sleep like this.” The last part he said quietly, so that Harry wouldn’t hear.

“Is there anything else Kreacher can do for Master Malfoy?” Kreacher asked, his watery eyes wide.

“Please have supper ready at half past six, there will be two more by then.” Draco said casually, flicking an imaginary speck of dust off of his pristine trousers and onto the very dusty floor beneath him.

Kreacher bowed once more before another loud crack rent the room.

Harry started immediately laughing, crossing the dirty room to throw his arms around him. “How is it that it took me months to get him to even consider bowing to me and within minutes you’ve got him wrapped around your smallest finger?”

“Pure charisma,” Draco said with a smirk, tucking his chin atop Harry’s curls.

Harry laughed again. “Obviously.”

“Now, do you need to change or anything before we leave?”

“No, but I do want to get Kai’s tank set up so it’s warm when we get back.”

“Where is she, by the way?” Draco asked, suddenly aware he hadn’t seen a single glossy scale in ages.

“Said she was tired and curled up in my pocket a few hours ago. I think she’s about to molt again.” Harry replied as he drew away to pull out his shrunken trunk from his coat pocket. Draco unshrunk his own luggage and left it at the end of the bed, knowing Kreacher would take care of it. Harry busied himself with the habitat for his snake while Draco surreptitiously Summoned and Shrunk the largest feathers he could find. He tucked them all away in an inner pocket as he noticed Harry tapping out the final incantations on the tank.

After Harry had set the temperature charms, and they had left a message with Kreacher for Pansy and Luna, they set back off into the mist.

Draco took a deep breath and again grabbed Harry’s hand. Harry looked up with a silly grin and whispered, “I’d really like to kiss you right now.”

“What’s stopping you?” Draco said, pretending a nonchalance he didn’t quite feel. Harry stopped dead. “We’re in muggle London, there’s no reporters or classmates.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked quietly, looking up the street carefully. Draco pretended to roll his eyes.

“I’m not saying it again, so if you’d rather not,” Draco said-

Harry cut him off with a breathtaking snog, tugging his face down and wrapping his arms around his neck. Draco allowed himself to relax into that kiss, pulling Harry flush against him. He ran his hands along Harry’s spine, pulling him ever closer.

“Darling,” Draco gasped, Harry gently nibbling his throat, “we should really get going.”

“Ugh, fine,” Harry said disgustedly as he pulled away. “But I reserve the right to seduce you later.”

“Is that what you were trying to do?” Draco asked with a laugh as he and Harry fell back in step.

“Well, not really, but anything to put this off.”

“You actually expected me to respond to anything less than your complete devotion to the seduction in broad daylight?”

“I suppose I’m panicking and hadn’t really thought it out,” Harry laughed. “Now, c’mon, this way to get another taxi.”

“Must we?” Draco asked, shuddering at the thought. He had thought Portkeys were bad, now he knew better.

“The pub is a bit far, so yes. There’s no way to walk and make it in time.”

“So, we can walk back?”

“Do you want to be walking for two hours?”

“I don’t mind a walk,” Draco said defensively, really hating the idea of yet another strapped-down ride in the metal contraptions.

“How about this, time how long we’re in the taxi and then tell me if it’s worth two hours of your time to walk home.” Harry said.

“Home,” Draco repeated quietly. What a strong word for somewhere that still felt so very strange. Harry heard him and grinned widely, while flinging his arm out.

The screeching black monstrosity shuddered to a halt near them and Harry easily opened the door for them, pulling on an odd-shaped handle. Draco ducked into the small chamber, sidling to the far seat where the safety strap would cross his chest.

Looking at Harry for confirmation, as Harry settled into his own seat, Draco pulled on the strap. At Harry’s encouraging nod he managed to push the metal bit into the lock, hearing a satisfying clicking sound. He raised a triumphant grin to Harry, not even embarrassed when Harry laughed and took his hand.

“Where to, lads?” the muggle asked cheerfully.

“There should be a small pub rather close, called the Brews and Stews?” Harry said as Draco internally scoffed. As if anywhere that took two hours to walk to would be considered close for a muggle contraption, no matter how fast the scenery seemed to pass. There was no way anything muggle was as fast as a broom.

“Not a problem, guv!” Then they were off, starting and stopping and weaving in and out, obviously following some set of rules unknown by Draco as he clutched Harry’s hand. Astonishingly, they didn’t hit a single building or person, as nothing moved out of their way as happened when one took the Knight Bus.

Before he really registered what was happening, the taxi had slowed to a stop and Harry had handed the muggle some more paper money. He let Harry haul him from the taxi and stood blinking in the drizzling rain.

“It would take us two hours to walk back?” Draco asked, stunned. Harry didn’t answer and Draco shook himself, looking around.

Harry was frozen, staring straight at a blond, muscled young man that was just as still. Draco stood for half a moment, trying to respect their moods as it became quickly obvious neither could make the first move.

Resolutely, Draco grabbed Harry by the elbow and dragged him toward his huge cousin.

“You must be Dudley,” Draco said raising his hand to shake. Dudley took it woodenly and shook, never ceasing to stare at Harry.

Draco dropped his hand awkwardly, wondering how to break the ice, when Harry suddenly spoke.

“Hiya, Big D.” Harry said with the lightest trace of sarcasm Draco had ever heard from him. It was as if Harry was scared to be himself, which Draco suddenly realized was probably exactly what was wrong.

Dudley let out a sudden booming laugh. “God, Harry, I haven’t heard someone call me that in years!”

“C’mon then, this place has the best chips this side of Big Ben.” Dudley continued as Harry nodded distractedly.

Dudley led them inside, heading toward a table in the corner with a small RESERVED sign on it. The pub was dark and smoky and quiet, Draco uneasily glanced around, happy Harry had insisted on him wearing trousers and a jumper, as no one was wearing robes.

“You saved us a place?” Harry asked in shock as he stumbled slightly.

“Well, yeah, I wanted a decent place to catch up if you decided to show.” Dudley said, scratching the back of his neck the exact way Harry did when stressed.

“If I hadn’t?” Harry asked, as he and Draco pulled out their chairs.

“I’d have understood and then drank my own weight in beer,” Dudley said simply. “Let me get the first round.” He walked to the bar to get the drinks.

Harry tugged on his sleeve and Draco swung his eyes from watching the glowing, flashing machine in the corner to his boyfriend.

“You okay, darling?” Draco asked gently, keeping his voice low.

“So far? Yes,” Harry said with wide eyes, “not sure about two minutes from now.”

“It’s okay, I’m right here and we’re wizards, you just say the word and I’ll break the Statute and Disapparate you away.” Draco said softly. “I’m sure my probation wizard would understand if it was for the Chosen One.”

Harry grinned at him, relaxing slightly as Dudley came back to the table with three glasses of beer. “Kai is still in my pocket, we can’t Disapparate.”

Draco took his proffered drink and took a small sip. The bitter hops assaulted his taste buds, but he drank anyway, anything to soothe his frazzled nerves. He saw Harry finish half his drink in one go and carefully lowered his own. It wouldn’t do to have two sozzled wizards in muggle London.

“Look, Harry, I’m really sorry about everything,” Dudley suddenly said. “Being in hiding really helped me get to know you without my parents poisoning everything. The witches and wizards watching us told me a fair bit about the war, whenever mum and dad were sleeping. I spent a lot of nights just listening.”

“No PlayStation in your safe house then?” Harry asked with a slightly high-pitched laugh.

“There wasn’t even a TV,” Dudley boomed a laugh, “or a microwave. Really had to depend on magic just to eat. Drove Dad ‘round the bend, as you can imagine.”

Harry finished his drink with another swig. “He could handle losing a few stone.”

“He did too!” Dudley exclaimed. “At first he refused to touch anything that had been ‘tainted by magic’. They tried to respect that, but it only lasted as long as he held his tongue about you. As soon as he spoke ill of you, then never gave him ‘pure’ food again. As you can imagine, it didn’t even take a week.”

Harry rose swiftly, “I’ll place our orders and get another round.” He weaved through a few people to get to the bar, Draco watching him all the while. He saw Harry dip a hand into his pocket and hoped he was caressing Kai.

“Did I say something?” Dudley asked quietly, as Draco tore his eyes away from his boyfriend.

“He doesn’t do well with the subject of food deprivation. Has something to do with the way he was raised,” Draco said with his nose in the air.

“Told you about that, did he?”

“He told me enough.” Draco said icily.

“Yeah, I guess I need to apologize for that too,” Dudley said glumly. Just as Draco was about to demand what that meant, Harry walked back up, three more pints in his hands.

“Draco, you need to catch up,” Harry said with a slightly frantic look in his eye.

Draco sighed and took a large swallow, leaving the last third of his drink in his glass.

Harry set the fresh drinks down, the foamy beer sloshing over the brims of the glasses. Draco watched a miniscule bubble glide down the side of his glass, almost reaching the grain of the table-

“I’m sorry about Cedric,” Dudley said suddenly, and Draco felt both him and Harry snap their attention to the muscled man.

“What?” Harry asked, sounding as confused as Draco felt.

“Cedric?” Dudley said tentatively. “I mean, when I teased you about being… But your new boyfriend is here… I shouldn’t be bringing up your ex…”

“God, Dudders, I was never with Cedric Diggory,” Harry said with a laugh, the first true one Draco had heard since they had arrived.

“Too right,” he interjected, “Diggory was way too good-looking for you.”

“So, that makes you less good-looking than Cedric?”

“No, that makes you extremely lucky to have me,” Draco responded with a roguish wink, as he reached over and took Harry’s hand where Dudley could see it.

“I won’t deny that,” Harry said softly, before turning his attention back onto his wide eyed cousin. “For your information, Draco is my first and only boyfriend. The reason you heard me saying Cedric’s name at night is because I saw him murdered just prior to coming back for summer break.”

“Merlin, Harry, warn a bloke,” Draco said as he choked on his beer, stunned by Harry’s gauche phrasing.

“Sorry, love,” Harry said sheepishly, rubbing his knuckles sympathetically. Draco smiled warmly as he heard someone behind him mutter something.

“What was that?” Dudley asked, looking confused as Draco tightened his grip on Harry fingers.

“Said we don’t want their kind in our pub!” said a gravely voice from just behind him. Draco resisted the urge to turn around, instead taking another swallow of his beer, as his neck heated. Harry froze beside him, closing his eyes tightly.

Draco heard Harry mutter he’s on probation and felt his heart clench. Any world in which Harry Bloody Potter couldn’t do the right thing because he, Draco, had made a lifetime of stupid choices was a horrid one.

“Dudley,” Draco whispered, “we can’t do anything here, but you can.”

Dudley looked shocked for just a moment before standing up with a beatific smile on his face. “Is there a problem?”

The other patron must have taken one look at Dudley’s huge arms and quickly made the only sensible decision. He muttered something about being misunderstood and scampered off.

Just then three baskets of fish and chips arrived as the barmaid slid them onto the table. “Thank you for not punching his lights out, he’s a harmless old bugger but he does say stupid things.”

“Harmless,” Draco said in his most scornful tone, not even bothering to cover his annoyance. The barmaid turned a lovely shade of salmon pink, stammering as she asked if they needed anything else.

The rest of the meal passed quietly as Draco refused to drop Harry’s hand and they each ate awkwardly.

“So, what else have you been up to, since I last saw you?” Dudley asked after a brief lull in conversation.

“Not much, we’re studying for our end-of-school exams. Then Draco has a spot open at a very prestigious school.” Harry said proudly.

“And you?” Dudley asked. Harry shrugged and Draco frowned. Would Harry ever make up his mind as to what he was going to do after school?

“How’s your mum and dad?” Harry asked instead.

Dudley dove into a lengthy monologue about how his father had been told by one of the wizards watching them that he should check with a Healer about his blood sugar. Vernon had apparently refused to meet with the ‘practitioner of evil’, and now had been told by something called a ‘dockter’ that he had ‘dyabeeties’. Apparently, this meant that wizards had cursed him to be pierced by needles every single day. Personally, Draco could think of a few better curses, the decaying-whale-breath the kindest of them all.

After the last vinegar-sprinkled chip had been consumed, Draco and Harry rose, still holding hands.

“Thanks for seeing me,” Dudley said, “I didn’t expect you to.”

“Neither did I,” Harry said with a genuine smile, “but there’s a lot of things I’ve done lately I never thought I would.”

Draco nodded at Dudley, “I’m glad I got to meet a member of Harry’s family.”

With that Harry and Draco left the pub, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with any patrons. The last thing Draco wanted was to come up against the muggle from earlier.

“Do you want to flag a taxi?” Draco asked softly.

“Actually, would you mind if we walked, at least for a little while? I really just want to think, and I can’t do that if we’re back home with everyone there.”

“I don’t mind at all, darling,” Draco said softly, relieved.

They walked in silence as every so often Harry peered at a sign and turned them one way or another. After about an hour, Harry stopped dead, tugging on Draco’s hand to stop him.

“Thank you for coming with me. I don’t think I could have done that without you,” Harry said, facing him.

“I must admit I almost jinxed him a few times, but that feeling faded around the time he stood up to defend you.”

“That was definitely a first,” Harry said with a laugh. He stared up at Draco for a moment, his eyes filled with gratitude. Draco didn’t really think he deserved that look, he hadn’t done anything more than sit there after all. To stop Harry staring, he leaned down and gave his boyfriend a chaste kiss.

At least, it started as a chaste kiss, until Harry wound his hands up in Draco’s nape and didn’t let him go until they were both breathless and panting.

“C’mon then,” Harry said with a laugh as he finally released him. “We have one more stop along the way. Then I’m taking you home and having my way with you.”

“I suppose I can’t object to that,” Draco said as Harry tugged him around a corner, a huge muggle building standing in the middle of frozen taxis. The bright red letters above the entrance door denoted out TESCO.

Harry smiled, pulling Draco behind him. “It’s a muggle shop where we can buy food. The house is going to need to be stocked for the next two weeks.”

Draco blinked in surprise as Harry led him into a cavernous building that had food stretched as far as the eye could see. Harry grabbed a trolley and slowly walked around, pulling random items off of the shelves.

Draco followed closely, trying not to stare.

“Can we get some Chocolate Frogs?” Draco whispered.

“They don’t have those,” Harry laughed as he piled a few rattling boxes into the basket. He pushed it further along, grabbing jars and cans seemingly without reason.

“Do you even know what you’re buying?” Draco asked with a laugh.

“I happen to be a rather good cook,” Harry responded, turning to go down another aisle. This one Draco stepped forward gleefully. One side was filled top to bottom with tea. He reverently touched a box, the flavors clearly written on the side.

“Can we get some?” Draco asked, already reading the many labels.

“Of course, love, they aren’t expensive,” Harry said with a laugh.

“How many can I pick out?” He asked insistently, needing to know his limitations before he got too excited.

“Let’s just say ten, in case any are particularly awful,” Harry responded, his voice fond. Draco tossed him a pleased smile, before turning to the job at hand.

He easily picked out an apple caramel tea that sounded delicious. Pansy and Luna would probably like the licorice flavor, so he tossed that in the trolley as well. Blaise had always preferred citrus and he remembered Hermione enjoyed a more cinnamon taste. Harry drank whatever was offered so Draco took time choosing a few exotic sounding flavors, ready to try anything he could. Just as he had his last choice narrowed between a white jasmine and a black cherry, Harry laughed and took both from his hands, tossing them into the trolley with the rest.

“C’mon love, we should think about getting back,” Harry smiled.

He stopped himself from casting a Tempus and instead dug into Harry’s pocket. He lifted the slightly dented watch and realized it was already well past three.

“Circe! We’re really going to have to hustle to get back in time for Kreacher to prepare dinner.”

“We can take a taxi,” Harry said absently as he steered the trolley to a more open area filled with produce. Draco tried not to be unnerved that none of the plants moved, even if they were trimmed from the stalk.

“Do we have to?” Draco asked instead, watching Harry inspect various greens.

“We won’t be able to carry all of this between us the last leg,” Harry laughed as he piled more and more on top of the almost full basket.

“Couldn’t we just Shrink it?” Draco whispered desperately.

“Love, it’ll be less time to just take the taxi, I promise.”

Draco sighed theatrically, as he vaguely poked at an inert Chinese Chomping Cabbage.

“Oh, we don’t want that,” Harry chuckled, pulling it from his grasp and tossing it back in the pile with the others. “Come on, I think that’s everything.”

After a short, terrifying ride, with their shopping piled between them, they arrived at Grimmauld Place.

Draco thanked the muggle as Harry held out his paper notes. They gathered the paper bags between them, each overburdened as they watched the taxi drive off. Draco shivered in the drizzly chill, already considering warming himself with a hot shower, and wondering if Harry would join him. They hadn’t washed together yet, but Draco had a feeling that a wet, slippery Harry was just what the Healer ordered.

Together they turned toward Grimmauld Place, watching Number Twelve appear. They bustled up the walkway, Harry pushing the door open with a foot.

Draco felt his tongue roll back in his throat, tickling his palate, as the dusty Dumbledore swooped through him.

“Just stay quiet,” Harry coughed softly as Draco nodded, swallowing furiously. He didn’t fancy a conversation with another mad aunt.

A loud crack snapped through the room and Harry groaned aloud.

“Filth! Intruders!” Screamed the dingy portrait. Draco now saw they would indeed have to remove the wall she was mounted on to have any peace.

“Kreacher will take the shopping,” said the ancient elf.

Draco relinquished his bags happily, nudging Harry with an elbow when he didn’t move fast enough.

“We’ll be in our room, Kreacher, if you need anything,” Harry said.

“What would Kreacher be needing?” the elf asked, insulted.

Draco stepped on Harry’s foot. “Nothing, sorry Kreacher, I misspoke.” Harry said as Draco rolled his eyes.

“Thank you, Kreacher, for your help. I’ll be taking Harry upstairs now. We do not wish to be interrupted.” Kreacher bowed at his words, his watery eyes unblinking.

“Come on, Harry,” Draco continued, pulling Harry up the stairs. “You really have no idea how to talk to elves, do you?”

“I dare you to say that to Hermione,” Harry laughed as he allowed Draco to tug him along. Draco snorted.

“What would Hermione know, she’s never had a house elf,” Draco said quietly, not wanting to tempt fate and have her come popping out of a room right in front of him.

“You’ll have to ask her, just be prepared for quite the lecture,” Harry said with a laugh.

Soon they reached their room, and Draco flung the door open. Harry gasped and even Draco had to admit he was impressed by the transformation, not even a speck of dust was left. The floorboards gleamed, freshly polished, and the bedding was clearly recently washed. Draco opened a door and found the closet, his and Harry’s clothing hung and folded neatly.

He shut the door with a snap, turning to the other door in the room. He felt Harry’s amused grin as he flung open the door to the en suite. He gave it a cursory glance. Everything was sparkling, even the grout. Clearly, Kreacher had taken his instructions seriously.

There were several fluffy towels on the shelf and he pulled two off, hanging them on the hooks. With that thought in mind, he pulled aside the shower curtain, finding all of his potions in a row. He smiled to himself as he turned the taps.

He felt Harry’s eyes follow him as he pulled off his muggle jumper. He tossed it to the side, before slowly unbuttoning his trousers. He pushed them off, feeling Harry’s eyes on his arse.

“Well, are you joining me?” Draco said as he tossed his pants to the side. He slid under the hot spray, hearing a rustling as Harry clearly undressed at top speed.

He soaked his hair, letting the heat of the water warm his chilly skin. He heard a louder rustle as Harry slid into the shower behind him, tugging the curtain closed. Harry pressed up, dragging his palms across his scarred abdomen.

“Merlin, you’re freezing!” Draco shuddered, turning in Harry’s arms to face him. Briefly he felt Harry’s prick brush his own and shivered again. “Warm up,” he said, swapping their places. He grabbed the soap as Harry groaned in appreciation under the hot spray. He lathered up his hands, before turning back to his boyfriend.

Draco started massaging the suds into Harry’s shoulders, as Harry dropped his head back onto his shoulder. Draco let his hands reach around to Harry’s chest, pulling Harry flush against him. Harry rubbed his arse against Draco’s groin, and Draco nibbled the back of his shoulder.

He trailed a hand along Harry’s chest, kneading the pectoral muscle and lightly pinching when he felt the pebbled nipple beneath his fingers.

He dropped his other hand, slowly sliding lower as Harry writhed in his arms. He brushed through the dense curls surrounding Harry’s cock, pulling Harry’s earlobe into his mouth as he teasingly ran a finger along Harry’s stiffening prick.

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry moaned, rubbing his arse against Draco’s now insistent erection.

“We’re getting there,” Draco said into Harry’s ear, taking a firm grip on Harry’s cock and pulling slowly, letting the running water help him. Harry shuddered slightly, panting in his arms.

Draco ran his fingers down Harry's back, rubbing one of Harry’s arse cheeks.

“God, yes, please,” Harry said, pushing back against Draco.

“Ready, are we?” Draco chuckled lowly, running one finger along Harry’s puckered entrance.

“Come on,” Harry demanded, gasping as Draco pushed one finger in, still pumping Harry’s prick. Harry raised his hands and braced himself on the tiled wall. The water cascaded onto their bodies, the two of them just inside of the spray.

He twisted his finger, before slowly pushing a second through the tight ring of muscle. He stretched Harry quickly, impatient to be inside the tight heat currently mashing his fingers together.

“Draco, I swear to god,” Harry threatened, “you had better get your cock in me in the next ten seconds or I’m not going to wait for you.”

Draco could tell from how heavy Harry felt in his palm that he wasn’t kidding. He left off, instead casting a wandless Lubrication Charm, pressing the tip of his slicked cock against Harry’s cleft.

Harry whinged desperately, pushing back slightly. Draco slowly pressed into Harry’s arse, trying his best to slow himself.

Harry, however, clearly had other ideas. As soon as Draco was partly sheathed, he slammed himself back on Draco’s cock.

“Fuck, yes,” Harry moaned, bringing himself forward and then slamming back again.

Draco braced a step back, making sure he could handle the impact without slipping before realizing what Harry was doing.

“Please, Draco,” Harry babbled, “Fuck me harder.”

Draco took that challenge, shifting his stance and placing his hands on both of Harry’s hips. He thrust forward, pulling Harry back slightly. Harry moaned his encouragement as Draco thrust again. Draco quickly found his footing and his pace.

“Merlin, you take me so well,” Draco groaned as he pulled Harry up to bite at the back of his trapezoid.

“Yeah?” Harry asked breathlessly as he pushed back as hard as he could with Draco pinning him up.

“Yes.” Draco growled, sucking the back of Harry’s neck harshly. Relentlessly he pounded into Harry, as Harry swore and shook before him.

Draco distracted himself by listing One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. He thrust and thrust, and somewhere between Leaping Toadstool and Puffapod, he felt something change. Harry leaned forward again, bracing himself against the wall of the shower as Draco gripped his hips even harder.

Harry was actively pushing back, shuddering and moaning as though he were moments from orgasm. Draco felt his own stomach coil in anticipation as he thrust as hard as he could.

“I’m going to come,” Harry moaned, his arms still bracketing his face.

He felt Harry’s muscles clench and it tipped him over the edge, holding himself still as he released his come deep into Harry’s fluttering arse. Slowly, he pulled himself free, feeling Harry wince slightly.

“Are you alright, darling?” Draco asked quietly, pulling Harry back into his embrace again.

“Mmhmm,” Harry hummed as he leaned back onto Draco’s chest. “I wasn’t sure I could come like that, without being touched.”

“And now that you have?” Draco asked, rubbing Harry’s arms and chest.

“No complaints,” Harry said with a soft smile, turning around. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Draco said, ducking his head down to press his lips to Harry’s. “We really need to get ready though.”

Harry nodded into his scarred chest, so he wet both their heads, wondering at Harry’s hair managing to stay wild while soaked through.

They washed quickly, sharing soaps and letting the other rinse as though they had showered together a million times.

The ease with which Harry wrapped a towel around his waist and then sauntered out, giving Draco his space to finish his routine made him smile.

Harry was already dressed when he finally emerged from the en suite, softly hissing at Kai.

Draco went through to the wardrobe, flicking through his measly robe selection. If he had known Winter Break would be the last time he was able to access his huge selection of designer robes, he would have packed more away. He sighed at the loss and decided on a set of pale blue robes that Harry seemed to enjoy him in.

He cast a quick Tempus and realized it was already past six. “Salazar Harry, why didn’t you warn me about the time? We need to get downstairs, now,” Draco said frantically.

“Draco, calm down, we said half past, remember?” Harry said from the bed he was still laying on.

“They’re going to be early,” Draco warned, tugging on Harry’s foot when he didn’t move fast enough. “Come on, up you get.”

“Fine,” Harry laughed, getting up and settling Kai on his shoulder. “Let’s go to the drawing room then, that’s where the Floo is.”

Draco followed Harry down the dusty stairs, wishing Kreacher had been able to get the rest of the house as clean as their room.

Gods, their room.

He officially shared a room with Harry Sodding Potter and the thought made him grin so wide his face felt it might split in two.

“What are you smiling about?” Harry asked as they entered the musty drawing room.

“Just the fact that I’m moving in with you,” Draco said, watching a wide smile stretch across Harry’s face too.

Harry reached up and rubbed his jaw. “You really are a secret sap, aren’t you?”

“Nothing secret about it,” Draco muttered as he leaned down to snog his boyfriend. Harry wound his hands into his hair, enthusiastically responding until a brief whoosh made them break apart.

“Now, that is a sight I never actually thought I’d see,” his aunt Andromeda said from the Floo, briskly stepping out of the fireplace with a fussy baby in her arms.

“Thank Circe there’s a buffer here,” Pansy replied, standing up from her seat next to Luna where they had gone unnoticed.

Harry laughed and walked forward, giving the witch a brief hug. “Can I take him?”

“Please,” she said, easily handing the baby over. “Don’t mind if he sicks up on you, the Floo sometimes upsets his tummy.”

Harry started making the most outlandish faces Draco had ever seen, causing the baby to let loose a bright burbling giggle.

“Harry,” Draco said nervously, prodding Harry in the side with an elbow.

“Oh yeah, Teddy, this is your cousin Draco,” Harry said, tickling the now raven-haired sprog.

Draco rolled his eyes, trying not to laugh as the baby pulled off Harry’s glasses.

“Aunt Andromeda, I presume?” Draco asked politely.

“Oh, Draco, dear, call me Andy,” she said with a tinkling laugh that sounded exactly like his mothers.

“Yes ma’am,” he said, causing her to laugh again. “May I present Pansy Parkinson and Luna Lovegood?”

Pansy nodded politely as Luna giggled as brightly as Teddy and waved.

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” his aunt said simply, pulling out a small bag and Unshrinking it. It was stuffed to the brim with various baby-related items and she pulled out a small stuffed badger. She handed it to Teddy who happily relinquished Harry’s glasses in the exchange.

Draco reached out and took Kai, not wanting Teddy to accidentally grab for her next. He put her on his own shoulder as Harry settled his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

“Thanks, love,” Harry said easily, as Teddy tried to fit the entire badger in his mouth. He noticed Teddy’s eyes were now the same asphodel green as Harry’s and shook his head in wonder.

“Teddy’s a metamorphmagus?” He asked, surprised.

“Yes, just as his mother before him,” She said in a proud voice. “I’ll have my hands full when he gets older and turns into other children just to hide from me. But I learned the knack of it with Dora, just make sure all their jumpers are brightly colored. She never did figure out how I always found her.” Andromeda looked sad for a moment before visibly pulling herself together.

“I’ll be depending on you for babysitting duties, so you’d better remember that,” she continued.

“We will,” Harry replied, now pretending to chomp baby fingers and toes. Teddy shrieked in delight as Draco’s heart swelled. By including him in that casual statement, Harry had indicated that he fully expected them to still be together years and years from now.

Kreacher appeared with a sudden crack.

“Master Harry, Master Malfoy,” Kreacher said, bowing again. “Dinner is being served.”

“Thank you Kreacher,” Draco said softly. “Will you choose an appropriate wine for our meal?”

“Kreacher is already choosing the wine, Master Malfoy,” the elf said in a deep voice.

“Wonderful,” Draco said, looking at his boyfriend.

Harry was still completely enchanted with the infant, not even following the conversation as Draco shook his head.

“I know the way,” Luna cut in happily. “Follow me.”

They all walked down the dusty hall, Luna pushing the correct door open.

His aunt conjured a ‘high-chair’, as Harry called it, the two of them fussing and settling the infant as Draco made sure everyone’s glass was full.

Pansy took a swallow of her wine, giving Draco a smirk. Draco took a small sip and recognized a superior year. Kreacher was obviously trying to impress him just as much as he was trying to impress the elf and the house.

“So, how did you two get together?” his aunt asked, as she sipped her wine.

“I dared Harry to sleep in Draco’s bed,” Pansy said with a smirk as Harry rolled his eyes.

Draco chuckled, amused at Pansy’s summation.

“That’s all it took, he couldn’t resist me after that.”

Andromeda laughed heartily, sounding less like his mother in that moment.

“And how did Cissy take it?” She asked.

“We don’t know,” Harry said softly, spooning green mush into Teddy’s waiting mouth.

Andromeda froze, shocked.

“We do know though,” Draco interrupted. “She hasn’t responded, and she even kept Jason. She cut me off. It’s fine, it’s what I expected.”

“Jason?” Andromeda asked.

“His owl,” Harry responded, spooning more food into Teddy’s smiling mouth.

“Look, I really don’t want to get into it,” Draco said in what he hoped was a nonchalant voice. “Mother doesn’t approve and that’s that.”

“I’m sorry,” Andromeda said quietly, “I never would have expected that from her.”

“It’s not about expectations, it’s about reality,” Pansy said, clearly remembering her own harsh letter from home.

Her father had sent a long roll of parchment about her duties as a pureblood, and how if she weren’t pretty enough to keep the eye of the Malfoy heir, she should at least still try to make a decent match with another. He had included a list of at least twenty male Hogwarts students, some as young at twelve.

Pansy had locked herself away for an entire day after she received the missive, speaking to no one but Luna.

Draco had eventually managed to get her to talk about it, the two of them commiserating about their parentage and expectations.

"Looks like I won't be taking Luna on that trip after all," Pansy had said quietly, her bloodshot eyes breaking his heart.

"I'm sorry, Pansy," Draco had responded, rubbing her back as he tugged her into a tight hug.

"It's fine," Pansy had sniffed. "I don't need them anyway."

Now Draco watched her sit with her spine stiff and her thumb gently caressing Luna's hand and couldn't be prouder of how she had managed the hardest thing she had ever done.

Chapter Text

“Is everyone ready?” Harry asked, as he tucked Kai into a pocket. He knew Flooing was one of the only safe ways she could magically travel, but he didn’t want her to fly off his shoulder somewhere over London. With that thought in mind, he put his glasses in a pocket too.

A blurry Pansy dug into an ornamental box on the mantel, flinging powder as Luna’s luminous blob of hair entered the emerald flames.

Harry watched as Draco too vanished into the fire, before digging his own handful of Floo powder from the container Pansy still held.

“Diagon Alley!” Harry said clearly, trying to keep his mouth as closed as possible.

He spun through the ashy flames, keeping his arms tightly crossed. His eyes remained closed, as he tried valiantly to breathe through the dizzying travel. Resolutely he decided to take a car back to Grimmauld Place, refusing to Floo again, just as he was dumped into the Leaky Cauldron. He stumbled out of the fireplace, reaching for the pocket where Kai was.

“Are you alright?” Harry hissed as he pulled her out and placed her on his shoulder.

“Be cautious!” Kai hissed just as Harry became aware of the tension in the room. He frantically dug through his pockets, searching for his glasses.

“See, Harry Potter is here, just as I said he would be,” Draco’s voice said calmly, as Harry mashed his glasses onto his face.

“Draco? Luna? What’s going on?” Harry asked, the room coming into focus, as Pansy fell through the fireplace behind him, almost knocking him over.

Draco casually shrugged a shoulder. “Apparently I’m not quite welcome here.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said slowly, taking in the frozen tableau of the room.

“I’m an ex-Death Eater, Harry, these people don’t want me amongst them.” Draco said bitterly as Luna clutched his arm, her eyes more frightened than he had ever seen before.

The patrons began hurling insults, as Harry felt his ire rise. Pansy must have sensed his temper, because she began tugging Harry’s arm, pulling him toward the exit.

“Death Eater!” was shouted from the back.

“NO.” Harry said in his loudest voice. Silence fell as Draco dropped his arm halfway to the door. “Draco was cleared by the Wizengamot!”

“Come on, Harry,” Luna said, her eyes still shadowed. Only for her did Harry move. He sensed it was the same for Pansy as he roughly stomped to the door.

“There’s no spell to change public opinion, Harry,” Pansy said quietly, as she hugged Luna tightly in the dirty courtyard behind the pub.

“There bloody well should be,” Harry said angrily, giving Draco a quick once-over to indeed make sure he was unscathed before pulling out his Phoenix feather wand to tap on the wall.

“I’m fine, Harry, it could have been much worse,” Draco said softly. The bricks began folding back into themselves.

Harry shuddered as the four of them stepped into Diagon Alley proper. Harry felt all eyes stop on him as he nervously caressed Kai.

“See you in a bit!” Luna waved as she and Pansy turned to a side street of Diagon Alley.

“Slags just want to stay out of the limelight,” Draco said with a fond smirk at their retreating backs.

Harry laughed as they bravely stepped into the throng, wishing he could avoid attention as easily. “Can we go to Gringotts? I need to get some muggle money.”

Draco nodded, his eyes darting everywhere as they made the short walk to the bank. Harry felt the back of his own neck crawl with the stares they were getting.

The goblin at the entrance took one look at him and Harry immediately knew he had been recognized. Not the fawning adoration of the wizarding masses, but the flat attention of dislike bordering on hatred.

“Shite,” Harry whispered. “This might not be very pleasant.”

“What?” Draco asked quietly.

“I broke into one of their top security vaults and released their dragon.” Harry mumbled, “during the war.”

“Oh, bullocks,” Draco groaned. “For Salazar’s sake Harry, way to spring that on me.”

“Sorry, I forgot,” Harry whispered as they crossed into the huge, tiled hall. He noticed that any damage that had been done was seamlessly covered. Draco muttered something that sounded very much like you forgot in a tone of incredulity.

A goblin rushed up to them and Harry watched Draco’s features still into one of polite attention.

“We do not wish for Mr. Harry Potter to be in our bank,” the goblin said with a vicious grin.

“Very well,” Draco said, “I suppose we should just head to the Prophet and tell them that Gringotts officially had a successful robbery then. Now that the war is over, I’m sure they’re desperate for headline fodder. With an interview from Mr. Potter himself, they’d probably keep the story running for weeks.”

Harry almost laughed at how the smirk slid off of the goblin’s face.

“That’s your cue to take us to someone with more authority,” Draco said smoothly.

The goblin visibly gnashed his teeth before turning and leading them through a small doorway tucked in the corner of the room. They both had to duck, as everything down this hall was clearly goblin-sized.

Their goblin led them to a spacious but still short office and left them after growling at them to make themselves comfortable.

“It seems we’re meeting with the head of the clan,” Draco whispered. “Let me do all of the talking, and I do mean all.”

Harry nodded forcefully; he was well out of his depth here.

There were two small armchairs in front of a short desk and Harry took one of them. Draco sat with his hands in his lap and his posture rigid.

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the child-sized seat, just as the office door opened again and an important looking goblin entered the room.

He could practically feel Draco’s eye roll as the goblin slid into the seat behind the desk, interlacing her gnarled fingers as she surveyed them.

“Mr. Potter,” the goblin said with a nod, glancing at Draco.

“Draco Malfoy,” Draco said as Harry tried not to snort.

“Mr. Malfoy,” the goblin said. “I am Hittool, head of the Gringotts clan.”

“It seems we are at a bit of an impasse, clan leader Hittool,” Draco said with a nod of his own head.

“Ah yes, we do not wish for Mr. Potter to enter our bank, for fear of him attempting to steal from us, and he threatens to tell the papers that he has allegedly done just that if we do not allow him in.”

“I suggest a compromise,” Draco said, with the air of one conferring a favor. “After today, Mr. Potter schedules future visits beforehand so that whatever security measures you deem necessary can be put in place.”

Hittool nodded sagely. “And today?”

“Today, perhaps you could merely place us in the care of your most trustworthy goblin? Mr. Potter only wishes to check his vault and then discuss his investments. With your cooperation, we hope to be out of here with a minimum of fuss.”

“Mr. Potter will not be allowed down to the vaults,” Hittool said flatly. “The risk is too great. He will be brought what funds he desires to the office of the goblin that shall be helping you.”

“Very well, that will suffice for today, though he will need to physically check his vault in the future.” Draco said, as the clan leader nodded thoughtfully.

“Mr. Potter must agree to never speak of what happened here, that day.” The clan leader said with warbling jowls.

“That is understandable,” Draco said as Harry once again shifted uncomfortably. “He will also volunteer to conduct the majority of his business with you via Verified Owl Post.”

“Very well, I will send for a goblin to escort you.” Hittool said, directing her glance to a parchment she pulled from a drawer.

Without no visible or audible summons, a goblin opened the door. Harry rose quietly, unnerved. Draco followed him from the room, until the clan leader spoke again.

“He will also need to submit his magical signature to ensure that he does not enter the premises without Gringotts goblins knowing.”

“That is acceptable,” Draco said with a bow. Though it might not have been a bow, it might only have been a nod, but they were still crouching. Nevertheless, Harry imitated the movement, assuming, as always, that Draco knew what he was doing.

They followed the new goblin somberly as Kai hissed at him. “They do not like you here.”

“I’m aware,” Harry hissed back quietly. “Can you try and keep the goblins from overtly hating me though?”

“I will try, but emotions run deep in these creatures,” Kai said sibilantly. Harry nodded absently as he and Draco crossed the atrium of Gringotts, again going through a side door. This one was thankfully human-sized as they both straightened their postures.

They followed the silent goblin into an office clearly meant for important clients. The seats were large and overstuffed, the ceiling magically heightened.

“I am Taphammer, I will be handling your business today,” the suited goblin said as he seated himself behind a large desk. Harry sat himself down as Draco exchanged pleasantries with the goblin.

For about a quarter of an hour Draco and Taphammer spoke of the weather and Harry allowed his mind to drift.

He was still thinking of the delicious dessert Tippy had prepared the night before, and what Hermione’s reaction would be when she found another house elf at Grimmauld Place, when Draco exclaimed in disgust.

“You cannot be serious!”

“Whassamatter?” Harry asked, straightening in his chair.

“You mean to tell me that an account of this balance has not a single investment?” Draco was saying to the goblin.

“As I said, Mr. Potter never made any indication that he wished to invest his funds anywhere.” Taphammer replied defensively.

“Let’s change that, shall we?” Draco said, clearly getting excited. He began to speak of venture accounts and asset locations and all manner of various subjects and numbers that made no sense to Harry, but the goblin must have understood as he took many notes, nodding his head as his long fingers flew across the parchment.

Draco eventually stood, shaking the goblin’s hand as Harry struggled to his feet. “It was a pleasure doing business with you, Taphammer, thank you for your valuable time.”

“Feel free to request me any time you come to manage Mr. Potter’s account; your understanding of finance is delightful. And the fact that you manage your client so beautifully, if only the rest of my financial advisors could do the same.”

Harry opened his mouth to argue that Draco wasn’t his financial advisor and Draco casually stepped on his foot.

“Now for the submission of Mr. Potter’s magical signature.” Taphammer said as he pushed forward a piece of parchment. “Sign your name.”

“I need a quill,” Harry said as Draco nudged him.

“Sign with your wand,” Draco said. “Incantation is Signum.”

Quickly Harry cast the spell, his messy signature appearing across the parchment as he felt something touch the very core of his magic for the briefest of moments. Taphammer merely smirked at him just as the door was flung open by yet another goblin, this one pushing a small cart.

“Ah yes, the muggle money as requested,” Taphammer said as Harry took the heavy wad of notes. He folded the money into a pocket, still confused about how suddenly the meeting was ending. “And the gold,” Harry watched in amusement as Draco laid claim to those velvet bags, tucking them into an inner pocket.

He followed Draco and the goblins out of the building, chuckling to himself that they felt the need to escort him from the building as Draco gave him another flat look.

They left Gringotts, pausing on the steps as Harry felt his eyes adjust to an unseasonably bright day.

“Well, you might not be as wealthy as me, but I’ll quickly change that.” Draco said. His smile faltered slightly. “I mean, as wealthy as I was.”

Harry shifted forward involuntarily but managed to stop himself in time, remembering they were in wizarding public. He felt familiar fingers take hold of his own and smiled widely.

He took a deep bracing breath and then glanced back to the crowded street. “Are you sure, love?”

“We’ve already been noticed, so yes, stand up straight and try not to look embarrassed.” Draco hissed from the corner of his mouth. Harry marveled at Draco’s ability to speak without moving his lips as they started down the stone steps.

His attention was abruptly diverted when he noticed Minister Shacklebolt coming up the steps with a contingent of Aurors.

“Harry! Not causing trouble, are you?” The minister asked.

“No, Minister, just running some errands with Draco,” Harry felt all the aurors and the Minister’s gaze lock onto their clasped hands.

“Ah, yes,” Shacklebolt said in his resonate voice, clearly striving to assimilate that information. “Well, it was lovely seeing you, Harry, Mr. Malfoy, but please excuse me, I have much to do.”

“Of course, sir,” Harry responded as he felt Draco tug his hand.

“If I may, Minister,” Draco interjected, “I would like to thank one of your aurors.”

Shacklebolt nodded bemusedly as Draco turned to a small pale witch standing respectfully to the side of the minister. “Thank you for healing me when I was in the care of your department. I did not see much kindness and yours was most appreciated.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry said with a frown. “Why did you need to be healed?”

A frown that was mirrored by the Minister. “Auror Selwyn, what does Mr. Malfoy mean? Was a prisoner harmed while in the custody of the auror department?”

The blonde woman looked highly disconcerted, shifting slightly on the stone steps of the bank. Harry noticed one of the aurors behind her pale and rub his hands on his scarlet robes nervously.

“Well, Minister, Draco and I have lunch plans, if you don’t mind?” Harry said, knowing Draco wouldn’t tell him what was going on until they had stepped away.

Kingsley nodded, “Of course, Harry, Mr. Malfoy. Enjoy your day.” He shook both of their hands, Harry practically itching to move on.

Harry waited until they had descended the steps before tugging Draco into a shadowed corner of the Alley.

“What the bloody hell just happened?”

“I’m afraid I just got quite a few aurors in trouble,” Draco said with a tight smile.

“Why? God, Draco, do I need to go back there and -” Harry asked as a hot surge of protective fury shot through him.

“Do what, Harry? Take them to task for the three cracked ribs I had during my trial? Or perhaps you mean the fact that my face was so bruised and swollen that the generous Auror Selwyn was forced to heal me before I went in front of the cameras? Or maybe you meant how my mother still has a limp from when the aurors broke her hip and she wasn’t healed in time?” Draco said intensely.

“Oh, love,” Harry whispered, his fury quickly dissipating, as Draco kept talking.

“I get that I was on the wrong side, Harry, but when the right side starts hurting women and teenagers, they’re not much better than the Death Eaters that tortured people based purely on their blood status.”

“Bullocks, Draco, why didn’t you tell me?” Harry asked, as he raised a hand to brush Draco’s jaw gently. “I would have done something.”

“Oh yes, my first thought when I got to the Manor was to send you an owl detailing my hardships.”

Harry laughed bitterly at that. “Fair point. I’m sorry, love, that you had to go through that.” He leaned up and placed a gentle kiss to Draco’s lips.

“It’s fine, Harry.” Draco said, pulling away. “Let’s just get this luncheon over with.”

“Will you hold my hand again?” Harry asked wistfully, breaking the last of the tension.

“You and hand holding,” Draco said with a shake of his head, but Harry still felt long fingers slide against his own.

He grinned and squeezed tightly, before Draco led them out of the shadows. He noticed a fair few eyes on them and almost dropped Draco’s hand in reflex.

“Don’t you dare,” Draco muttered. “To change now would be to admit we were wrong in the first place.”

Draco practically pulled him across the Alley to a small café that had sprung up where Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour had once been.

“Christ, Draco, anyone would think you were excited for this,” Harry laughed, as they followed the server to a small wiry table in the front of the café. The large window they were seated next to afforded Harry an unobstructed view of the street. Soon he saw their lunch companion walking from a nearby shop to the café, absently straightening his robes as he walked.

“Heads up, love,” Harry said softly, watching Draco’s head dart up from his perusal of the menu.

“You owe me so much for this,” Draco muttered as the bell over the door jingled.

“I know,” Harry whispered as Draco rose to his feet. He followed clumsily, pasting an awkward smile on his face as Ron walked up to their table.

“Harry,” Ron said with a broad grin. “Malfoy,” he continued with a sharp nod.

“Hey Ron,” Harry said, awash in a range of conflicting emotions. The joy of seeing a close friend after so long apart battled with the tired anger of every time Ron had let him or Hermione down.

“Weasley,” Draco nodded.

There was a slight pause as the three of them awkwardly sat.

“Delectable,” Kai hissed next to his ear. He ignored her.

The server walked up, and Draco ordered a pot of tea for the table as Harry sat staring at his old best mate. Ron seemed even skinnier and more freckled than before, if that was possible.

Harry firmly grasped Draco’s hand, needing some support as he floundered for what to say. Ron started laughing uproariously.

“Circe, I hope you know I just lost a Galleon to Lavender,” Ron said with a grin. “She called you two years ago.”

“Why would she think that?” Harry asked with a chuckle of his own.

“Said you two only had eyes for each other,” Ron said with a shrug. Harry laughed as even Draco gave a sheepish smile.

“She wasn’t wrong. How is Lavender? I heard you were engaged?” Harry asked, making a brave stab at conversation.

“She’s great, in fact we’re already married,” Ron said, his freckles disappearing as his skin turned a violent red. “I would have asked you to be my best man, but we weren’t speaking, and Mum made it very clear we couldn’t wait.”

“Couldn’t wait for what?” Harry asked as the last of the awkwardness fell away. This was Ron, his very first best mate, the one that had supported him (in his own clumsy way) throughout the entirety of the war.

“Lav’s pregnant,” Ron said proudly. “Mum couldn’t handle her first grandchild being born out of wedlock, so we had to hop to it.”

“Wow, Ron! That’s, wow!” Harry babbled.

“Congratulations,” Draco said, making his first contribution to the conversation.

“Thanks,” Ron said genuinely, so happy his face glowed as he turned to Draco. Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably. Just then the server appeared with their tea and took their meal orders.

“When’s she due?” Harry asked. “You had better invite us round to meet the little sprog.”

“Of course, and in just a of couple months. Lav says she’s as big as our cottage, but she isn’t. Oh, yeah, we bought a cottage! It’s out near Mum and Dad’s. The shop is doing rather well, and Mum wanted to be close by when the baby is born.”

“How many baby things has she knitted then?” Harry asked with a laugh, resigned to assimilating the flood of information later.

“Enough to last the next two years at least." Ron snapped his fingers suddenly, "That reminds me, she wanted me to apologize for not sending you a jumper for Christmas, but she didn’t knit anything for anyone other than the babies this year. She didn’t even realize till Christmas morning when everyone asked her where their jumper was.” Ron laughed at the memory of what was probably a frantic Mrs. Wealsey.

Harry swallowed thickly past the sudden knot in his throat. He had thought Mrs. Weasley had just not sent him a present, and after so many years of her cozy jumpers he had felt as if Christmas had been missing something vital. To find out it wasn’t because he was cast out and merely that she was overburdened with the new babies was a welcome shock.

“Wait, babies? Are you having twins then?” Harry asked with a gasp as the server delivered a couple of sandwiches and Draco’s salad.

“Oh, Merlin no! Bill and Fleur are a few weeks behind us. In truth they helped Lav decide to keep it.” Ron said as he took a huge bite of his food.

“Decide to keep it?” Harry asked quietly, as Draco frowned quizzically into his tea.

“Mmhmm,” Ron said, suddenly chewing furiously fast. He swallowed hastily. “Sorry, didn’t mean to say that, forgot myself for a moment. It’s just that she was worried. You know she was attacked by Greyback during the Battle?”

Harry felt Draco stiffen beside him. He nodded gently.

“Well, even though Greyback wasn’t transformed at the time, she didn’t know what she’d pass on to the baby. She has a few quirks now and we all knew how Lupin felt…” Ron trailed off with a nervous glance at Draco as Harry nodded encouragingly. “But then when Fleur got pregnant, she and Bill and me and Lav had a lot of talks about it. It really helped. Then we met Teddy and that pretty much decided it for all of us. Lupin was a true werewolf, and his son is fine. Lav and Bill only got mauled.”

“Greyback was a monster,” Draco said suddenly and then looked mortified, as though he hadn’t meant to speak.

“Too right," Ron agreed stoutly, taking another huge bite of his food. Harry ate with a bit more restraint, but not nearly as much as Draco, who ate at a glacial pace.

“I have to ask, why the bloody hell is there a snake on your shoulder?” Ron asked between bites.

“This is Kai,” Harry said with a smile, pulling her off of his shoulder. He held her out to Ron. “She feeds on negative emotions and helps me with my trauma and anxiety.”

“You sound like Hermione,” Ron said with a laugh, letting Kai slither along his own arm. “But don’t lie, obviously you got her to impress your Slytherin boyfriend.”

“Obviously,” Harry said with an answering laugh, feeling Draco chuckle next to him.

Ron’s spine relaxed as he finished the last of his chips. “Merlin’s left bullock, Harry, she’s amazing! I haven’t felt this calm since I don’t know when!”

”Ron appreciates you feeding from him, he finds you amazing,” Harry hissed at Kai as Draco smirked into his dish.

“Yes, the spotted one should find me amazing. I am, to have soothed his deeply troubled mind. Others of my kind might not have bothered. He flavor is… unpleasant.” Kai hissed back. Harry managed not to laugh, making a note to tell Draco later that Kai called Ron ‘spotted’ and ‘unpleasant’.

“Any other news? How are your parents?” Harry asked instead, taking back Kai.

Harry had just finished hearing about how Mr. Weasley had accepted a promotion to work in the Muggle Liaison office as Draco finally set his fork down. Happy that Mr. Weasley was once again working with his favored muggles, Harry didn’t object when Ron pulled out the gold to pay for their lunch.

“For once, it’s my treat,” Ron said proudly.

“Oh, no, Weasley, you have a baby on the way,” Draco began, holding up a hand in protest.

“Call me Ron, Draco,” the ginger man replied absently as he dug in his robes for gold.

“Let him pay,” Harry whispered forcefully, prodding a frozen Draco subtly.

“Very well… Ron,” Draco said awkwardly.

They made their goodbyes outside the cafe before Ron made his way back to the joke shop.

“Ready for home, love?” Harry asked quietly, reaching for Draco’s hand once again.

“No, not quite, darling,” Draco said with a crafty look, taking Kai from his shoulder. “I have one more stop planned for us, now send your Patronus to Pansy and tell her it’s time.”

Which was how, ten minutes later, Harry found himself being ushered into a fitting room at Twilfitt and Tattings with what seemed like half the shop attendants.

Harry didn’t understand why it would take so many people to help him shop and tried to tell Draco how uncomfortable he was, but Draco just pushed him forward and accepted a glass of champagne from a smiling wizard.

“Alright, Harry, strip,” Pansy said with a smirk as Draco and Luna settled into a couple of comfortable chairs.

“What?” Harry squawked.

“Down to your pants, I need to see what I’m working with and the tailor needs accurate measurements.” Pansy said as Luna giggled into her glass. Harry grumbled to himself but began resentfully pulling off his clothing.

“Now, up you get,” Pansy said, pointing at a raised dais.

“Seriously?” Harry asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Her flat look convinced him, and he clambered up onto the tiny platform.

She eyed him thoroughly as he shuffled from foot to foot. “Well, well, Draco, looks like your boyfriend was hiding quite the set of muscles under those baggy clothes. Turn.”

“I know,” Draco said with a lascivious smile. “He’s got a great arse too.”

“Hey!” Harry said, shocked, as Luna giggled again. He felt all eyes lock on his bum as he crossed his arms and spun back around. “Madame Malkin never gets me next to naked just to make fun of me.”

“We’re appreciating, Harry dear,” Pansy said as the shop attendants all averted their eyes. “There’s a difference. Now, lets see you in some green.” An attendant snapped his fingers, and a bolt of cloth flew across the room. The wizard draped it across his shoulder and Pansy sighed. “It’s your obvious color but I think we can do better.”

Pansy began ordering the assistants around, demanding lighter fabric here, and something velvet there. All the while a measuring tape wrapped around every centimeter of his body. Just as he was half expecting it to measure him between the legs, the measuring tape finally fell to the ground, lifeless.

By the time Draco and Luna were giggling madly, swapping whispers and half-drunk on champagne, Harry had been fitted with a few ‘rough’ outfits that still fit him perfectly. He was promised the rest of his new wardrobe in the next week as Draco passed over an obscene amount of his gold.

…

One uneventful taxi ride later Harry felt the wards ripple around them as they approached the front door of Grimmauld Place. He had had to bribe Draco with agreeing to let him decorate their bedroom in green to get him to take the taxi home, but he thought it was worth it just to see Draco and Pansy clutch their seat belts as if their lives depended on it.

He quietly opened the front door, feeling Pansy’s breath on his neck. They had managed to take down the Dumbledore spectre and the tongue-tying jinx just the night before with the help of the combined magic of the two house-elves, but they still had to be quiet.

Thankfully, it was Tippy who awaited them, which meant there was silence as the parcels were passed over and Mrs. Black stayed asleep.

Noiselessly, Harry crouched to place Kai on the freshly polished wooden floors, allowing her free range of Grimmauld Place. Lately it had become their habit. Nothing pleased her more than exploring and she was always in her tank when he woke up, even if she wasn’t there when he went to bed. These days he noticed she slithered off as soon as she had fed her fill for the day. With how high tensions had run at Diagon, he wouldn’t be surprised if he found her already asleep on her favorite rock when they went to bed.

With an exaggerated sigh of relief, Harry led the group up to the next landing where the parlour was. They opened the door to find Hermione and Blaise. They were dirty and had clearly just arrived, if their luggage filled hands and the flickering fire were anything to judge by.

“’Mione!” Harry exclaimed, “You’re back early!”

“There was a change in plans,” Hermione said with a strained smile. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Of course not,” Draco said beside him as he felt Hermione trying to tell him something with her eyes alone. Whatever it was, it escaped him as they all exchanged hugs and handshakes.

“Kreacher,” Draco called softly as the elf popped into existence. “Perhaps you could take Hermione and Blaise’s things to their room and then bring some tea?”

Kreacher took everything as Hermione offered a token resistance. Her heart clearly wasn’t in it as she collapsed on a nearby sofa, Blaise sinking next to her with a tired sigh.

“How are you?” Harry asked quietly as Draco nudged at him. He saw Luna smack a palm to her face and even Pansy rolled her eyes as Blaise pulled Hermione closer.

“Do you mind if we don’t talk about it just yet?” Hermione asked.

“Of course not,” Pansy said quickly. “Besides, we have more important things to discuss. Such as why Harry here is suddenly wearing clothing that fits.”

“How many outfits did you wind up buying then,” Blaise asked, his face a polite mask. “Since Pansy and Draco clearly took you shopping.”

Kreacher interrupted with a loud crack, a complete tea service floating alongside him. Everyone was silent for a few minutes as they accepted cups from Kreacher, and Harry snagged a couple of extra biscuits.

“God, Pansy must have made me try on a million outfits. I’m not even sure how many she made me buy in the end.” Harry said, drawing a high-pitched laugh from Hermione. “Draco said he was tired of me looking like a vagabond and then swore to burn everything in my trunk.”

“A vow I stand by,” Draco said. “Tomorrow is Burning Day.”

“That’s good,” Hermione said distractedly, clearly not paying attention.

“We saw Ron today.” Harry offered tentatively, changing the subject as he dunked his biscuit in his tea. Rapidly he tried to think of a way he could casually tell Hermione that Ron was now married and expecting without upsetting her even more than she already was.

“You did?” Blaise asked quickly, “Is he still purple?”

“No, just freckled,” Draco said before Harry could respond, derailed by the unexpected question.

Hermione abruptly burst into tears. “See, B-Blaise, I t-told you.”

Harry struggled to his feet, attempting to reach his best friend as Draco grabbed his elbow. “No, Harry, she needs Blaise just now.”

Blaise wrapped Hermione into his strong arms, caressing her hair and back. Hermione was so distraught she could only speak in stuttering phrases. So, for the next quarter of an hour Harry pieced together the story.

Hermione, Blaise, and a Healer friend of Madame Pomfrey’s that specialized in Memory Charms had gone to Australia to try and heal Hermione’s parents’ minds. The Healer had tried everything known to magic to undo the enchantment Hermione had wrought during the war.

“Intention is w-what t-truly drives a s-spell and I r-r-really w-wanted to keep them s-safe,” Hermione said brokenly, sobbing so hard she couldn’t continue.

“It makes sense,” Draco said, “I could never make an Unforgivable work.”

“And Ron isn’t purple anymore, because Hermione cared more about her parents’ safety during the war than his infidelity.” Pansy added quietly.

“So, there’s no restoring their minds?” Luna asked quietly. “Have the Healers looked into Jobberknoll feathers?”

“Luna, not now,” Blaise said in a sharp voice. “We’ve no time for your nonsense.”

“Hey, don’t have a go at her!” Pansy snapped as Hermione raised a hand to cut them both off.

“No, Luna, w-what do you mean?” Hermione asked, roughly wiping at her eyes, pulling out a parchment and quill.

That was the moment Harry really understood how seriously ill Hermione’s parents were. For Hermione to be taking advice from Luna meant that she had reached the end of verified magic and was now grasping at straws.

“There’s a few magical creatures that have feathers or scales or blood that are used to help with memory or restoration,” Luna said, glancing at Draco for confirmation.

“Luna’s right,” Draco said as Harry saw Hermione turn shiny eyes toward him. “There are quite a few ways a potion might be able to help. Did the Healer talk about any of them with you?”

“N-no,” Hermione said softly. She cleared her throat. “The Healer only tried spells.”

“Let me look into it,” Draco said. “There’s a chance they didn’t say anything because they knew it wouldn’t work. But I’ll give it a go.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, putting down her quill. “Thank you both.”

“Anything we can do to help,” Draco said sincerely.

The rest of the night passed easier, Hermione’s hopeful face clearly lifting a weight from Blaise’s shoulders.

During dinner more than one bottle of wine was opened and peals of laughter filled the air. The dark corners of Grimmauld Place seemed brighter and happier than Harry had ever known. Luna and Pansy in particular seemed to be intent on being merry as they giggled and cracked jokes at everyone’s expense. True, Harry didn’t always understand Luna’s jokes, but he found her acting them out amusing enough to laugh heartily anyway.

After dinner the six of them returned to the parlour, and Tippy served them all a round of tea and coffee.

“You’re not Kreacher,” Hermione said, apparently only just realizing there was another house elf serving her.

“This is Tippy, Draco’s elf.” Harry said tentatively.

“No,” Hermione said sharply. “I refuse to live in a home with slaves.”

“Slaves? Who said anything about slaves?” Draco asked from next to him. Harry groaned internally. Resigned, he whispered to Tippy to prepare a second pot of coffee, this was bound to take some time.

“It’s not really the same thing, ‘Mione” Blaise said quietly.

“Really, do you have a house elf then?” Hermione asked.

“No, of course not,” Blaise said.

“Exactly,” Hermione said. She turned back to Harry’s blond companion. “What do you know about the colonization of Africa and the subsequent enslavement of her peoples?”

“India too,” Harry interjected against his better judgement.

“Harry, this is not your narrative,” Hermione said sharply.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, his face heating.

“No, you’re right.” Hermione said, pinching her nose. “India was also invaded and abused by the British. But let’s leave that for another time, alright?”

Harry readily agreed, and then spent the next fifteen minutes enduring an excruciatingly uncomfortable recounting of slavery and the abuse of African peoples. Draco clutched his tea, his face becoming more and more disgusted with every tragedy Hermione told.

“Why didn’t wizards intervene?” Draco asked quietly.

“The Statute of Secrecy was signed in 1692 and after that witches and wizards could do no more than save their own families. Even back then villages were either mostly magic or not. A lot of the time the witch or wizard in question never even saw a colonizer.” Blaise answered. “The colonization of Africa began in earnest around 1750.”

“So, we just let it happen? Wizards just let an entire continent of people be enslaved for hundreds of years?”

“He’s sweet,” Pansy said to no one in particular. “Draco, my heart of hearts, ask me about the Holocaust sometime.”

“Do I want to know?” Draco whispered at him and Harry shook his head slightly.

“Hey, no fair!” Pansy exclaimed. “Draco heard your ancestral sob story, he should have to hear mine too!”

“Look,” Hermione said, her face intent. “The point is, slavery is wrong and I won’t abide it in my home.”

“What slavery is in Grimmauld?” Draco asked as Harry choked on his coffee.

“The house elves!” Hermione said exasperatedly.

“But elves aren’t slaves,” Draco said in confusion.

“So, how much do you pay Tippy then?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t pay Tippy.” Draco replied.

“Exactly,” Hermione said triumphantly.

“Tippy,” Draco said softly. A quiet pop rang throught the room as Tippy appeared next to him. “Do you wish for me to pay you in gold?”

“What use would an elf have for gold? The metal is soft and melts before a meal is being cooked.” Tippy replied. “Gold is not being a useful resource.”

“Jewels then,” Draco said as Tippy’s ears shook forcefully.

“Jewels are pretty, common, and useless,” Tippy said clearly. “Has Tippy done something wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Draco said forcefully, “Miss Granger is worried that you aren’t being compensated enough is all.”

“Miss, Tippy is having no use for wizard currency. Tippy gains something far more valuable being the elf to Master Draco. Tippy gains the use of Master Draco’s magic.”

“What?” Hermione said, shocked. Draco cleared his throat and took up the narrative.

“When house elves are born, they must be Bonded. Ideally, it’s to a young witch or wizard that hasn’t displayed their magic yet, that’s very important. If no such child is available, a family can sometimes support the magical cost of Bonding an elf. But usually, they’ll just Bond the baby elf to a magical building, like Hogwarts or the Manor,” Draco began. “Tippy and I have been bonded since infancy. As my magic grew and developed, so did Tippy. To separate us now would be cruel to whomever severed the Bond. When a wizard gives an elf clothing, their magic loses its strongest tether, its anchor, if you will. My magic and possibly my mind would become erratic and uncontrollable. When an elf gives their wizard an unsheathed dagger, that is their signal that they are severing the Bond. An elf that severs the Bond loses their access to wizarding magic. Elves only survive a severing if they find something new to be Bonded to. Any elf left without Bonding”-

“No, Master Draco, say no more,” Tippy broke in in a high-pitched voice, visibly shaking. “It is not being good to be Unbonded, not good at all.”

“I’m sorry, Tippy,” Draco said, holding out a gentle hand that the elf took hold of. Kreacher shuddered beside them.

“Why did no one tell me about this?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide.

“Probably because you didn’t ask anyone that has an elf.” Draco responded softly. “Even in Pureblood families it’s far more common to Bond an elf to a magical building, but my family is somewhat traditional. For which I am eternally grateful.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Do you think it was a coincidence I survived with the Dark Lord living in the Manor? When a wizard Bonded with an elf is killed, their magic becomes the elf’s entirely. And any elf would seek immediate retribution for the loss of their Bondmate. If I had died, nothing would have stopped Tippy from killing every last Death Eater responsible, no matter how far they ran or how long it took. A fact my parents made sure to explain carefully to the Dark Lord and his followers when they moved in. They said it was because they didn’t want the Dark Lord to lose a devoted follower accidentally, but they were just trying to keep me safe, I think, in their own twisted way.” Draco said bitterly.

“But Voldemort didn’t know anything about elf magic,” Hermione said swiftly. “That’s how Regulus and Kreacher managed to get one of the Horcruxes.”

“I imagine he didn’t want to admit his ignorance, when Draco’s parents told him,” Pansy said softly. “I knew most of this, though admittedly not all, and I’m pureblood. He probably didn’t want to ask questions and give the Death Eaters reason to doubt him.”

Conversation petered out after that, Hermione looking thoughtful as she surveyed Tippy and Kreacher closely.

“I think it’s time for bed,” Pansy said eventually, as she helped a woozy Luna to her feet. “Some of us have maybe had a tad too much today.”

Harry leaned over to whisper in Draco’s ear, “Do I need to carry you to bed too?”

“I’ll have you know I’ve only had tea since we got home,” Draco muttered back.

“That wasn’t what I asked,” Harry said quietly with a lascivious wink.

“If you want to carry me, I won’t object,” Draco chuckled lowly.

“I think we’re going to turn in too,” Harry said instead to Hermione and Blaise. “Your usual room should be ready.”

They all said their goodnights as they rose, stretching and yawning. Eventually Harry and Draco were the only ones still climbing as the other couples peeled away on the lower floors.

“You know, I think that’s the first time Hermione has ever learned something somewhere other than a book,” Harry said with a giggle.

“It does one good to expand the mind,” Draco said with his nose in the air. He held an aura of pompous superiority for a few moments before dropping the charade and laughing with Harry. He flung open their bedroom door, drawing Harry behind him.

“I’m glad she isn’t going to kick up any more fuss about the house elves though,” Harry said. “I would miss them if they left.”

“Trust me, they’re staying here as long as we are,” Draco said, closing the door softly.

The room was warm and cozy, candlelight flickering in the corners. Harry kicked off his shoes and socks, flexing his toes on the magically heated wood almost luxuriously. He sighed as he threw his shirt on the ground, the relaxing scent of lavender drifting through the air.

“Put your things away properly,” Draco said, as he folded his shirt and dropped it into a hamper. “Just because we have elves doesn’t mean you get to be untidy.”

Harry laughed and stooped to put his new boots in the large closet, lined up near all of Draco’s expensive ones. He didn’t fold his clothing, but he did toss it into the basket.

After a brief elbow fight over who got to spit their toothpaste into the sink first, Harry snuggled under the duvet with Draco. He flung his thigh across Draco’s hips, intentionally shifting as he ‘got comfortable’. Draco rubbed along his spine and Harry burrowed into his chest.

Draco pulled his face up by the hinge of his jaw and Harry happily submitted to that snog. Subtly he deepened the kiss, grinding his hips ever-so-gently. He felt Draco shift and smirked slightly.

“Can we try something new tonight?” Draco asked quietly. Harry paused, leaning back.

“What were you thinking, love?”

“Er, maybe,” Draco said, ducking his head.

“What is it?” Harry asked quietly, bringing his hand up to rub along Draco’s jaw.

“Would you maybe want to try topping?” Draco said, staring at the ceiling, as a deep blush spread across his cheekbones.

Harry’s brain threatened to short-circuit at that, he had never considered that Draco would want to bottom for him. “Are you sure?” He asked in a strangled voice.

“I think I’d like to try it at least the once,” Draco replied, still avoiding eye contact.

“Okay,” Harry said softly, rubbing his hand along Draco’s scarred chest. He lowered his face, trailing sloppy kisses down the ropy skin. He bit and sucked, adding fresh love bites to the half-healed ones.

He reached the waistband of Draco’s pants and ran a finger along the elastic. He pulled Draco’s pants off easily, Draco pulling his hips up at the appropriate time.

Harry ran his palms along Draco’s thighs, rubbing his thumbs along the sharp edges of Draco’s hip bones.

He licked a hot stripe up Draco’s rapidly filling prick, before taking him in hand and wanking him to full hardness. He mouthed along Draco’s inner thigh, before taking Draco’s cock in his mouth.

He listened for the involuntary moans that meant Draco was getting close as he increased the suction in his mouth. When he heard Draco getting desperate, he trailed his hand from Draco’s hip bone along his buttock, making sure Draco could feel the progress his fingers were trailing.

He cast a nonverbal Lubrication Charm as he pressed his index along Draco’s furrowed entrance. Draco made an odd high-pitched moan that Harry took as a good sign as he pressed his finger through the tight ring of muscle.

Draco stilled above him, and he kept his finger still as he bobbed his head deeper, trying to get Draco to relax. Once Draco was again moaning softly, he slowly began thrusting his finger, searching for Draco’s prostate.

He knew the moment he had found it when Draco suddenly shuddered beneath him and let out a deep moan. Draco’s knees fell away, and Harry took full advantage of that to gently press a second finger in.

He scissored and twisted, Draco moaning all the while, before pushing a third finger in. He knew Draco needed the third as his prick was even thicker than Draco’s, and in the beginning he himself had needed ample preparation.

Eventually Harry released Draco’s cock, and pulled his fingers free of Draco’s arse. Harry drew himself up Draco’s body, leaning forward to snog his boyfriend deeply.

Harry released the lips of his boyfriend to look down and grasp his prick carefully. He slathered more lube along his rigid shaft before carefully lining himself up.

“Are you ready, love?” Harry asked, shifting his glance to Draco’s face. What he saw almost stole his breath.

Draco’s eyes, so silver and piercing, were soft and filled with a level of trust and love Harry wasn’t sure he deserved. He gulped.

Gradually, Harry pressed his cock into Draco. Slowly, achingly slowly, he pushed forward. He searched Draco’s eyes for any signs of discomfort as he cautiously kept himself in check.

Eventually he found himself fully sheathed, and he caressed Draco’s cheek. “You’re doing so well love, so well. Can you tell me when it’s okay to move?”

“Nnngh,” Draco replied as he threw an arm around Harry’s neck. “I think, I think I’m ready.”

Harry very carefully pulled back slightly and thrust forward gently. He watched Draco’s eyes close in ecstasy as he finally allowed himself to experience what he was feeling.

It was so hot, so tight, so perfect that he had no idea how he was going to last long enough to make sure Draco came first. But he was determined to make this a spectacular experience for his boyfriend. On that note, he snuck a hand down and began wanking Draco’s cock in time with his thrusts.

Draco became a breathy, moaning mess beneath him and just as Harry realized how close they both were, he leaned down and bit Draco’s earlobe.

He felt Draco’s prick throb in his hand and Draco’s arse clamp around his prick. The sudden pressure made him lose control and he thrust a few sloppy times before coming deep in Draco’s arse.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered as he gently pulled himself free. He waved his hand in a nonverbal Cleansing Charm and then tucked his head onto Draco’s limp chest.

“Okay, love?” Harry asked, running a finger along Draco’s ropy scars.

“Bloody fantastic,” Draco replied sleepily. “Thank you.”

Chapter Text

The spring chill bit through the stone walls, making Draco shiver through the first morning back at Hogwarts. He had risen so early that he was the first person to leave the baths, even after his long, warming shower and various morning preparations.

After dressing, he left a still sleeping Harry burrowed under the duvet and went to the Common Room to write a letter to his aunt. She had asked him if he would mind sending her an owl on occasion and he was happy to do so. He supposed she felt the loss of her family as sharply as he did, and he wanted to maintain what few connections he had left.

Quietly he sat in his usual place, the stillness of the room comforting as he pulled a fresh bit of parchment toward himself.

He was just finishing the letter when the back of the portrait slid to the side. He looked up in surprise as Hermione walked across the Common Room, her eyes lightening when she saw him sitting alone at their table. She slid a huge stack of books onto their table. Draco watched her with a lifted brow.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I spent the night in the library. I took out every book I could find on healing potions and memory charms,” Hermione explained breathlessly. “Would you mind helping me go through them?”

“How did you manage that?” Draco asked as he signed the letter with a flourish, setting it to the side. He didn’t seal it, as he was sure Harry would want to add a note of his own.

“Madam Pince gave me access to the library wards forever ago. I annoyed her so much that she gave me the enchantments so I could study whenever I wanted.” Draco shook his head at her, pretending to frown before the two of them broke out in quiet laughter.

They bent their heads over the books for the next hour as the rest of the students trickled in from the dorms, most heading to breakfast.

At one point Hermione stretched her arm just a fraction too far, attempting to slide a book in front of him for his opinion, when her sleeve pulled up just enough for him to catch sight of a bit of raised skin.

He lifted piercing eyes to her own steady gaze as she calmly assimilated the knowledge that he had seen a scar on her wrist and that he wasn’t going to ignore it.

“It isn’t what you think,” Hermione said.

“And what do I think it is?” Draco asked lowly.

Hermione sighed roughly and tugged her sleeve all the way to her elbow before turning her arm out for Draco to see.

There he saw the cruel word he had once used so casually carved into her chocolatey skin. A word his mad aunt had dug into her during a war that had marred them all. Slowly, Draco traced a finger along her scar, sending gentle probes of his magic to see how far the damage went.

“You tried different spells to shift it,” Draco said softly.

“Yes, of course, but how did you know that?” Hermione said as Blaise sat next to her, quietly watching the two of them.

“This was one of her favorite poisons. She used to dip her dagger into it,” Draco said gently. “The more you try to remove it, the deeper it digs in.”

“That makes sense,” Hermione replied. “It feels, I don’t know, tighter? Like rubber bands around my core.”

Draco nodded, not entirely sure what a ‘rubber band’ was, but it sounded right. He had assisted Severus brewing various potions for the Death Eaters, but this one had been especially made for his aunt. She had cackled when it was finished, the insanity fogging her eyes, as she dipped her dagger into the angry yellow concoction. Later, Draco had seen Severus destroying the remaining potion with a flick of his wand, a disgusted look on his sallow face.

They had never spoken about the poison and Draco had been scared enough to not ask questions. Questions in the Manor always resulted in answers he didn’t like. He knew why now, feeling the poison threading through the essence of Hermione’s magic.

“I think I can counter it, if you want,” Draco offered to Hermione as he felt the fog of his memories lift. He was reasonably sure he remembered how Severus had brewed the potion. Silently he thanked his dead godfather. He knew Severus could have hidden the brewing process from him. Instead, Draco had seen every step Severus had taken.

“Really?” Hermione asked, her voice raw with an unshown hope.

“I think so,” Draco said, just as Luna and Pansy walked up, arm in arm. Harry came in from the opposite hall not a moment later, hastily Hermione pulled her sleeve back down.

“Is everyone ready?” Pansy asked, darting quick eyes over the tension in their corner.

Draco rose gracefully, following Luna and Pansy, then Blaise and Hermione. Harry fell into step beside him as they crossed the Common Room.

“Where’s Kai?” Draco asked, noticing the absence of his favorite hissy friend.

“She said she was hungry and ‘went hunting’.” Harry said, using air quotes.

“What does that mean?” Draco asked with a laugh.

“I guess I’m just too happy to feed her today,” Harry said, taking his hand and Draco squeezed his fingers in response. They had officially decided not to hide their relationship after Diagon Alley, and this was their first appearance as a couple at Hogwarts.

Draco followed the group until the entrance of the Great Hall. He peeled away, not even making it two steps before Harry tugged on his hand.

“Where are you off to, love?” Harry asked as the rest of the group turned to look at him.

“I just need to brew a quick potion,” Draco said with a swift glance at Hermione. “If I’m not distracted it should only take about an hour. I’ll meet you all in the Common Room when I’m done.”

“Let him go,” Hermione said softly. “The potion is for me.”

“No, I’ll meet up with you all later.” Harry replied, turning back to Draco “I’ll come too, you won’t even know I’m there.”

Draco smirked at Hermione and took Harry’s hand again to head to the dungeons. They went down the stone staircases, until they were in front of the Potions classroom. Tentatively he pushed the door open. Severus had never minded if he brewed outside of class hours, but he had no idea if Slughorn would. It was probably lucky Harry was with him, Slughorn still favored his boyfriend abominably.

Quietly he gathered what he thought he would need from the student’s cupboard. Nothing in the antidote was very rare, though the preparation was sure to be tedious. Harry silently sat himself in a corner, promising to be quiet.

Distractedly Draco tied his hair back into a rough knot, sticking his wand through to keep it in place. Absently he wondered if he could steal a stretchy band from one of the girls for future use as he rolled up his sleeves.

Carefully Draco set his cauldron on a low heat as he started slicing and dicing. He searched his memories for the exact ingredients Severus had used, calculating how to counter each one. He began mixing, throwing in a pinch of beetle eyes here and a few flakes of mermaid scales there.

Eventually, as the stench and steam from failed attempts filled the room, Draco had two containers full of what he thought would heal Hermione’s scars, one small test vial and the rest in a large jar. It had been harder than he had expected, trying to recall a potion he had seen brewed over a year prior, but he had persevered. It would take a quick test on her skin to verify the results, but he could do that easily when he got back to the Common Room.

He tidied quickly, Vanishing his failures, before looking back to see Harry watching him with an intense expression on his face.

“Alright, Harry, I’m done,” Draco said before crossing the room to give his boyfriend a quick peck. A peck Harry deepened, before Draco pulled away slightly. “Urgh, darling, we should probably get Hermione this potion.”

“Oh, shite, sorry, let’s go, how much time do we have?” Harry said, clearly beginning to panic.

Draco laughed lightly. “The potion is fine, I just thought you’d want her to have it sooner rather than later.” Harry gave him a calculating look, the intensity returning to his expression.

“Do you know how many weeks I saw you in this classroom and wanted to shag you?” Harry muttered into his ear, drawing him close. He threw a hand up at the door and the lock clearly slid home. “You with your clever fingers and hair all disarray.” Draco felt Harry tug his wand out of the knot, his locks swinging forward to brush his shoulders.

“Is that so?” Draco asked, running his fingers through Harry’s nape to tug his head back. He took a gentle nibble of Harry’s neck. “And what did you imagine us doing?”

Harry groaned lightly, arching his back as Draco shuffled forward even more. He tugged Harry up ever so slightly.

“I wanted you to shag me across our desk,” Harry gasped, dropping the blackthorn wand as Draco roughly deepened their snog.

Draco didn’t respond, though the words made his prick throb in his pants. He pulled Harry away from the corner, stopping only when a desk hit the back of his thighs. Quickly he turned them so that Harry was the one pinned against the table. He bit Harry’s neck, reaching down Harry’s chest to his abdomen, trailing even lower to play with the buttons of Harry’s trousers. He pulled his own shirt off as Harry devested himself of his clothing.

Soon their mouths were crashing together again as their clothing pooled around their ankles.

Draco gave a couple of teasing tugs to Harry’s erect cock, enjoying Harry squirm, before flipping him over to bend forward across the recently cleaned desk.

He dropped to his knees, immediately burrowing his face between Harry’s arse cheeks. Harry groaned, thrusting against the desk slightly. He dug his fingers into Harry’s thighs, trying to keep him still as he began to lick at the furrowed skin before him. Harry groaned again, pushing back as Draco dug his tongue through the tight ring of muscle.

He let his mouth do the work as he absently ran a hand forward to take hold of Harry’s huge cock. He began wanking Harry slowly, letting the sharp gasps and moans guide his movements. His knees felt the hard stone beneath his bundled robes, but he ignored the discomfort.

Eventually, as he felt Harry getting close, he decided the teasing was over. He stood up and cast a wandless lubrication charm. The charm was good enough as he pressed his prick against Harry’s entrance. Just as he felt comfortable pushing forward slightly, Harry slammed back.

“Ungh, yes, love,” Harry began babbling. “Please, fuck me.”

Draco took him at his word and began thrusting, quickly gaining pace. Harry scrabbled his hands against the work table, panting breathily.

He started slowing, moving almost languorously, as he deliberately brought Harry back from the brink of orgasm. He could feel Harry’s frustration as Harry thrust backward, trying to take Draco deeper.

He stopped again and pinched one of Harry’s nipples, roughly. “I’m not ready yet, I want you to wait.”

He felt Harry shudder beneath him, as Harry nodded his understanding.

“Remember, don’t come until I say,” Draco warned as he ran his nails down Harry’s spine. Harry moaned in anticipation, his arse pushing up delightfully.

Draco sheathed himself fully, holding still as he watched Harry’s various muscles relax. He gave it a couple of moments and then began shifting his hips, stirring his cock in Harry. Harry moaned helplessly as Draco began tiny thrusts, letting Harry feel every slow drag of his prick.

He held himself in check, letting his own pleasure build excruciatingly slowly as he kept his focus on Harry. Every time Harry got too loud or too enthusiastic in his movements, Draco would distract him with a pinch of the nipple or even once a loud spank to Harry’s arse.

That had the unforeseen consequence of both Harry and Draco moaning loudly and thrusting frantically for a few moments.

Draco decided then that the games were over. He looked at his handprint on Harry’s arse, before rubbing his left hand exactly where the pink lines of where his fingers had impacted a few moments before. He rubbed for a moment more, before slapping Harry again.

Harry shivered and groaned, immediately pushing backward in a way Draco knew was involuntary. He began thrusting in earnest, taking a firm grip on Harry’s hips.

He pulled Harry back as he snapped his own hips forward, letting practice guide him to thrusting against Harry’s prostate.

“Fuck, Draco, I’m so close, please, let me come,” Harry began begging as Draco let the power of those words wash over him. He shivered in pleasure as he leaned forward and bit Harry’s earlobe.

“I want to come with you,” Draco whispered into Harry’s ear, still nibbling. “Understand?”

Harry nodded against his arm; his eyes squeezed shut. “I’ll… I’ll wait.”

Draco began thrusting roughly, the way he knew Harry had been wanting the entire time. He heard Harry let loose a small whinge but paid it no heed. He thrust again and again, chasing the tight coil of anticipation building in his abdomen.

His leg muscles strained in the best of ways as he pushed deeper and harder. Harry moaned loudly and Draco spanked him with his right hand this time, letting the wave of arousal crash over him.

“Fuck, Harry,” Draco moaned. “You feel so good.”

“Please, Draco, please, can I come?” Harry began begging, causing another crest of desire to overtake him.

“Yes, you can come, come for me Harry,” Draco said, feeling Harry’s muscles clamp around his prick as his own pleasure crashed over him and he came hard in Harry’s arse.

After a few moments, Draco pulled his cock free, while drawing Harry back and up against his chest. He crossed his arms around Harry’s chest, holding him tight. Harry turned in his arms.

“I love you so much,” Harry muttered, tucking his sweaty fringe into Draco’s neck.

“Not as much as I love you,” Draco replied, rubbing Harry’s muscled back.

They stood, naked and intertwined, relaxing in the afterglow, until Draco’s wand began vibrating on the floor. They both jumped.

“That’s my alarm to take the pain relief off of my cuff,” Draco said absently, as he bent for his wand. He touched the tip of it to the swan under the brass buckle and immediately felt his nerves begin to sing.

“Why do you to take the pain relief off?” Harry asked, ducking for his pants.

“I read that nerve healing is slow and not always assured. If I keep mine numb, they might never heal. I try to only use it when I’m doing work that requires my complete focus.” Draco replied as he pulled his robes on. Vaguely he tied his hair back into the neat knot and fastened it with his wand.

He placed his potions in his pockets as he gave Harry a last glance. Harry looked as disheveled and tempting as ever, his hair a complete mess and the freshest of love bites adorning his neck and shoulders.

Reluctantly, Draco kept his hands to himself and grabbed the rest of his things before they left the dungeons.

“Do you think the Great Hall will still have food?” Draco asked as they went up a flight of stairs.

“I’m pretty sure breakfast isn’t over yet, it’s Sunday after all.” Harry responded, with a shrug.

Breakfast was indeed still going on, with quite a few students still picking over the remaining food.

They entered the Great Hall, and no one seemed to notice Harry’s hand in his until about a third of the way down the Hall. Whispers suddenly erupted behind them, following them like a wake.

“Is it going to be like this with you everywhere we go?” Draco muttered, keeping his lips in a fixed smile.

“I’m afraid so,” Harry replied. “Just ignore them and in a few weeks the rumors will die down.”

“A few weeks?” Draco muttered.

“How do you do that?” Harry asked, his voice filled with wonder.

“Do what?” Draco asked under his breath.

“Talk without moving your mouth. Is it an enchantment?” Harry wanted to know as Draco laughed. The eighth year table was surprisingly empty as they strolled up to their usual places.

Draco jokingly shoved him, before taking a seat next to his still chuckling boyfriend. The plates before them were filled with toast and eggs and beans as he spied the last small bowl of strawberries hidden behind a large platter. Quickly he claimed it as Harry piled his dish high with bacon.

Draco saw movement out of the corner of his eye and pulled a discarded Prophet from behind a jug of coffee.

The Chosen One in Love with Ex-Death Eater!

The headline screamed the news as a photo of them in the corner of Diagon Alley took up almost the entire front page.

The photo itself was innocent enough, as Photo-Harry ran a finger along Photo-Draco’s jaw, before leaning up on tiptoe for a brief kiss. But their expressions, that was what arrested Draco’s attention and dried his mouth. Anyone with half an eye could see his emotions plain as day on his face, his love for Harry blatant even in the grainy, blown-up photo.

He opened the paper to the correct page, skimming through the article as Harry ate his way through what seemed like half a pig.

The phrases were just this side of legally true, though clearly written to cast him in the worst light possible. He swallowed his pride and his irritation, knowing as he did that nothing could be done.

“What utter twaddle,” Draco said with a disdainful sniff, turning the page. He froze, his eyebrows furrowing. There, on the next page, was a copy of the letter he had sent his mother when he had come out. They had left it untouched except for editing off the recipient and the postscript.

“Because getting into the most exclusive Potioneering school in Britain wouldn’t agree with the commentary they’re trying to bolster,” Draco muttered to himself.

“What was that, love?” Harry asked through his toast.

“Nothing,” Draco said absently, frowning again.

He took one last sip of tea as he noticed Harry wipe his fingers on a napkin. They rose together, Draco swinging an arm over Harry’s shoulders, pulling him close, the excited titters of the students following them as they left the Great Hall.

They went up the many flights of moving staircases, sneaking silly smirks, before reaching the fifth floor.

“Saudade,” Draco nodded politely as the portrait slid to the side. Saudade gave him a somber nod in return, as usual not requiring a password. Quickly Draco crossed the room, making a beeline for Hermione. Her natural hair guided his way, the thick curls obvious even across a room filled with smoky charms and flashing enchantments.

“Draco, did you see the Prophet?” Pansy said quickly, her eyes worried.

“Never mind that rubbish,” Draco said with an irritable flap of his hand. “We have more important things to do just now.” Hermione’s eyes pierced through him.

“Do you have it?” Hermione said, a desperate longing naked in her voice as he approached the table.

“Yes, but we need to test it first,” Draco said softly, as he felt the attentions of the group focus on him.

“How do we do that?” Hermione asked, grabbing Blaise’s hand tightly.

“Er, perhaps we should go somewhere more private?” Draco suggested.

“No, whatever you need to do is fine here,” Hermione said swiftly. She pulled her sleeve up and held her arm out to Draco. Pansy and Luna gasped as they saw the angry, hateful scar.

“Are you sure?” Draco asked.

“Please, just get rid of it. Any minute longer with this is a minute I can’t stand.”

“Very well,” Draco said, pulling the vials from his robes. “Now I’m going to cast a spell, it’s not going to try to remove the poison, so it won’t make it worse. But it will show us how the potions all interact.”

Hermione nodded, breathlessly. The tension in their corner began drawing the attention of fellow students but Draco ignored them.

Draco pulled his wand from his knot of hair and waved it in the complicated pattern that would display the depth of the poison in Hermione’s magical core.

The room was plunged into darkness as a bright, powerful white display began emanating from the ceiling. Hermione’s core. A cloying black was winding tighter and tighter around the source of Hermione’s magic, clearly threatening.

“That’s inside of me?” Hermione asked in the sudden hush of the room.

“Yes,” Draco replied absently, squinting at the label of one of the bottles in the flickering light. “I wish you had told me about this sooner, it would have been much easier to fix.”

“But you will be able to, won’t you?” Blaise asked sharply.

“I will try,” he said as he took Hermione’s wrist in a loose grasp. Carefully he dropped one small drop on the edge of the scar.

The lights above flickered in unison. Draco nodded to himself.

“Have you noticed any issues with your magic lately? Inability to perform or complete spells like you usually would?”

“No, none,” Hermione said swiftly as Blaise cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Actually, there was that time last week, do you remember? You tried to levitate that book across the room, and it fell halfway through.”

“And yesterday you were helping me with my essay and the ink replenishing spell you cast went wonky and created that splotch on my parchment.” Luna said softly.

“Those were simple mistakes,” Hermione said quickly. “It doesn’t mean my magic is affected.”

“Okay,” Draco said softly, pressing another drop of his potion against a spot on her scar, holding it in place with his wand. The lights above went dim. “Cast any spell at all.”

Hermione threw him a swift glance and flipped her wand into her hand in the near darkness. She frowned. She waved her wand a few times, her movements becoming increasingly erratic as nothing happened.

“Why isn’t my magic responding,” she asked, her voice pitched in nerves.

“The poison has entrenched itself in your core. We’re going to have to be extremely careful about how we remove it.” Draco said softly as he removed his wand, the light of Hermione’s core flickering back to luminescence above them. He held up the second vial.

“This is the cure. The potion will slowly draw the poison out, turning a lovely shade of blood red as it does so. As soon as there’s color change, you need to wipe off the potion and replace it. If you leave it on too long the poison will learn how to fight my antidote and it’ll just be that much harder to heal you. It starts fast, requiring a change every few moments. You’ll be done when the darkness is gone.” Draco let the spell fall away as the sconces and fireplace washed everything back into its customary golden glow.

Hermione nodded, clearly cataloguing everything he was saying.

“How long will this process take?” she asked as she rubbed at her scars. “Will my magic be affected the whole time?”

“This isn’t going to be easy, or short. This will take at least two weeks but I’m guessing closer to four. Your magic will be fine, as long as you make sure not to leave the potion on past the moment of discoloration. You risk permanently damaging your core if you do. You’ll need help at night, since not even you can stay awake for a month solid.”

“I’ll help,” Blaise said, grabbing Hermione’s hand tightly.

“Me too,” Harry said.

“Us as well,” Luna said, Pansy nodding at her side.

“Count us in,” Seamus said from the corner, raising Dean’s hand in his.

Draco watched as the rest of the eighth years quickly volunteered their time, Hermione’s eyes becoming suspiciously wet.

“We’ll take nights in shifts,” Draco said. “Two or three hours at a time, and no one does two nights in a row. Blaise, will you set up the schedule? And we’re going to need to figure out somewhere Hermione can sleep that everyone here has access to without constantly waking her up.”

“What if we just Transfigure a corner of the Common Room into a makeshift room?” Terry Boot suggested as Pansy argued that their small group of six were enough to watch Hermione at night and that the rest of the eighth year could cover days.

Draco frowned and had just opened his mouth to say that he couldn’t be expected to sacrifice every nights’ sleep when Saudade slid aside, and Neville walked in.

“Malfoy, McGonagall wants you to report to her office, right away. Wait, what’s happened?” He asked swiftly as he took in the tense scene before him.

Draco stood from his usual seat and felt Harry rise next to him. He rolled his eyes theatrically as a few students giggled.

“Work out the schedule and let me know when to report for duty,” Harry said, with a jaunty flick of his fingers. Draco nodded sedately in agreement, before crossing to leave the room. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione exclaim and wipe the first application of the potion from her arm.

They walked through the halls quietly, both deep in thought until Harry grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Do you really think Hermione will be okay?” Harry asked, heedless of the portraits staring at them.

“Of course, I do, darling,” Draco answered gently. “Just give it a few weeks and she’ll be right as rain.”

“Why do you think McGonagall needs to see you right now?” Harry whispered. “You don’t think she’s upset about the article, do you?”

“No,” Draco said as calmly as he could with his heart ringing in his ears. “She’s known about us for ages. I think something might have happened to one of my parents.”

“Oh, shite, Draco, I didn’t even think of that,” Harry mumbled, squeezing his hand.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Draco said, contemplating how vulnerable his parents really were. His father was stuck in a prison with the aurors that Draco had experienced abuse from first-hand, after all. And his mother was wandless and on house arrest, surrounded by house elves as her only defense.

Sure, his father was a right bastard, but he was still the only father Draco had ever had and he had spent the majority of his life looking up to the man. Circe, what if it was his mother? She had never done anything other than support her family to the best of her ability. The Dark Lord hadn’t even bothered to indoctrinate her officially, she was deemed too weak to be useful. His anxiety began spiking, his heartbeat thudding in his ears, as he lengthened his stride. He tried to be mindful of Harry’s shorter legs as he hustled toward the Headmistress’s office.

For once the gargoyle statues didn’t challenge them, instead they merely stepped aside without a single word.

“Ominous,” Draco said faintly as he took a firm grip on Harry’s hand, drawing strength from the warm palm.

“It’s going to be okay, love, no matter what,” Harry whispered as the spiral staircase glided upward. “You have your school, somewhere to live, you have me.”

Draco turned toward his tousled boyfriend. “We have each other.”

Harry smiled softly, running a hand along Draco’s nape. “You’re right. We have each other.”

The staircase slowly delivered them to the dark wooden door of the Headmistress’s office. Draco squeezed Harry’s hand before lifting the heavy knocker, letting it drop back to announce his arrival.

The door swung open to reveal none other than his own mother sitting in front of the Headmistress’s desk, cup of tea in hand.

“Mother,” Draco whispered. In that moment, his heart stuttered, it was his father then. A small, nasty side of him thanked the cosmic balance for keeping his mother safe.

“Mr. Malfoy, come in. Your mother has requested an audience with you,” the Headmistress said. Draco paused at the door, grasping Harry’s hand to steady himself.

“Oh, Draco, dear, please come in.” His mother noticed his hand in Harry’s. “Of course, Mr. Potter is most welcome as well.”

“Of course,” Draco heard himself respond as he pulled Harry into the room with him.

“So, it’s true then,” His mother said, eyes flicking to Harry’s heavily marked neck.

“Yes,” Draco said stiffly as McGonagall conjured up a couple more chairs for them. He waited for her to continue, to tell him the worst.

“I realize now trying to rush you into a marriage with Miss Parkinson was a mistake,” his mother said gently, “but I assure you that I only wanted the best for you. A wedding, with all the fuss and attention on you, seemed like just the thing to distract the both of us from all that happened these past few years. It appears I was mistaken.”

Harry snorted and Draco elbowed him. This was the most open his mother had been with him since before the war. He waited patiently, giving her a slow nod.

“Oh, Draco, dear, why didn’t you just tell me?” his mother asked softly.

Draco opened his mouth in shock, and then closed it again. “Mother, did you not get my letter?” He asked tentatively.

“Letter, what letter?” Narcissa asked, placing her cup back on the desk in front of her. “You haven’t written in months. I thought you needed time and space… to heal.”

“I wrote to you, telling you I’m, er, gay, and not marrying Pansy, ages ago.” Draco said awkwardly. “There was even a copy of it in the Prophet this morning. You never responded and Jason never returned. I assumed you were disowning me.”

“Disowning you,” his mother looked absolutely shocked for the first time he could remember. An awkward silence lapsed for a moment.

“Mother,” Draco began tentatively, “Is Father alright? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Your father? He’s fine, as far as I know.” She wrinkled her nose prettily. “I get letters every so often. I’ve yet to open any of them. I’m here because I read the article. I needed to see if it was true,” Narcissa said gently. “Because I love you, and I wanted to tell you that absolutely nothing in the world will ever change that.”

Draco felt the sting of tears swell behind his eyes. “You… still love me?”

“My little Draconis, I love you more than anything I have ever been blessed with. You are my son, the love I have for you is the most powerful magic in the world. My love for you changed the outcome of the war.” Narcissa said passionately, nodding once at Harry.

Draco didn’t notice dropping Harry’s hand or diving from his chair. The next thing he was aware of, he was kneeling in front his mother, smothering his face in her lap as his shoulders shook with the force of his tears.

Eventually he realized that she was carding her fingers through his hair as Harry rubbed his back. He leaned backward, looking up at his mother through wet eyelashes. “I’m sorry,” he said, with an ungentlemanly sniff.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Narcissa said, reaching out a hand to cup his cheek. “It is I who should apologize. Whatever I did to make you feel like this, scared to be yourself, for fear of losing my love, I am so, so sorry.”

Draco stiffened his spine, opening his mouth to hedge, as Harry nudged him. He shook his head slightly, glancing back at his boyfriend.

“Tell her,” Harry said, his voice once again the powerful tone that brooked no opposition. Draco hadn’t heard it since his mother’s trial and almost flinched. Instead, he gazed into those mesmerizing eyes the same shade as asphodel leaves. “She needs to know.” Harry said, softer.

“Bullocks,” Draco whispered, already knowing he was going to capitulate to his lover. “Fine, but on your own head be it.”

Harry merely smiled encouragingly.

He got up and sat back on his rigid, wooden chair, taking a steadying breath. “When I was young, Father used Legilimency on me. He did not respond well.” Draco said softly. He would have left it there, but Harry frowned in the corner of his eye.

“Fine,” Draco directed at Harry, turning back to his mother. “The first time I was on the wrong end of the Cruciatus Curse was not when the Dark Lord inhabited our home. It was when Father found out. It was years before Hogwarts.” Draco said, his throat drying.

“Oh, my dear Draco,” Narcissa said, her handkerchief once again dabbing her eyes. “I remember you withdrawing into yourself as a child, you father explained it away as a side effect of your near-death experience. I never knew he had cursed you.”

“You almost died?” Harry interjected, frowning.

“I told you, darling, I’m allergic to Chinese Chomping Cabbage. I was bitten when I was quite young.” Draco explained distractedly, still watching his mother.

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” Harry whispered, and when Draco looked back at him, he could feel his mother’s eyes on his nape.

“I’m glad too, if only because you couldn’t have saved the world without me,” Draco said flippantly.

“I couldn’t have saved anything without either of you,” Harry replied, taking his hand again and looking at his mother.

Narcissa reached out and placed her hand on their clasped palms.

“I am happy my son has found someone that loves him as much as I do, and I find myself unsurprised that it is you, Mr. Potter.” His mother said gently. “The time he spent each break complaining about you, I should have known something else was brewing beneath the surface.”

“Please call me Harry,” his boyfriend said with a chuckle. “To be fair, I whinged just as much as Draco did, and here we are.”

“Yes, here we all are,” McGonagall said as Harry jumped. Draco relied on his lifetime of pureblood training to remain still as his heart threatened to burst from his chest. “I do hate to interrupt but I have many pressing matters on my time, as does Auror Selwyn.”

Draco looked up as the small, familiar-looking witch appeared from the shadows. It seemed she had accompanied his mother as she nodded at them all.

“Auror Selwyn, I’m glad you stayed with the aurors.” Harry said, and Draco coughed delicately.

“There was an investigation but upon reviewal of the Pensieve memories it was deemed that I had acted in the best interests of the Ministry. They assigned me to Narcissa’s detail during the investigation and we enjoyed each other’s company so much that I requested to stay on.” The small blonde witch said gently.

The two adult women shared a fond glance. Draco smiled to himself. His mother deserved a friend and Auror Selwyn seemed the right sort.

“I believe it’s time for us to leave,” Auror Selwyn said softly, glancing at his mother and then her pocket watch.

“Yes, you’re quite right.” Narcissa said with a longing look at Draco.

“I’ll walk you to the gates, if you don’t mind?” Draco offered, wanting to spend the last of moments with his mother. She smiled.

“Mr. Potter, would you please stay behind?” the Headmistress asked as everyone rose.

“Er, okay,” Harry said with a swift glance at Draco.

“I’m sure I’ll be safe with an Auror accompanying me,” Draco teased, watching Harry’s shoulders relax.

Draco left the Headmistress’s office with the two women, holding the door open for them as they went.

His mother tucked her arm in his. “So, tell me, how long have you been seeing Harry?”

“A few months now,” Draco said, marveling at how easily ‘Harry’ crossed her tongue when she had called Pansy ‘Ms. Parkinson’ even after they had been engaged.

“He treats you well?” Narcissa asked, stopping momentarily as Auror Selwyn tripped on a curl of rug.

“He’s perfect,” Draco said softly as they resumed their walk. “He’s been amazing, when I thought I was disowned he even offered to pay my tuition himself.”

“Your tuition?” his mother asked, her face cast in the gentlest of confusion.

“Oh, that’s right, I told you in the letter you didn’t get. I got into Golpalott’s!” Draco said excitedly, watching as a true smile brought back his mother’s luminous beauty, the beauty he remembered from before the war.

“Draco, what wonderful news,” his mother said sincerely. Her tone turned lightly teasing. “Any other life altering decisions made since we last spoke?”

“Er,” Draco said awkwardly. “Harry asked me to move in with him after term ends. I thought I had no where else to live, you see. But he says he was planning on asking me anyway.”

“Draco, stop.” His mother said, squeezing his arm. “All I wanted was for you to be free of the Dark Lord and then once he was dead, to be happy. If Harry makes you happy and you are choosing your own future, I will not stand in your way. I made the same mistake your father did, trying to force you into that marriage.”

“No, Mother, what you did is nothing like what Father did.”

“I suppose that was rather dramatic, wasn’t it? Must be all the teenage angst in the air,” Narcissa said with a tinkling laugh. She frowned. “Isn’t that the library? How did we get here? Draco, clearly Auror Selwyn and I have been out of school too long to remember the way to the front doors, please lead the way.”

Draco smiled at them and turned them down the correct corridor. “There’s something else. I met Andy, and her grandson, Teddy.”

“You did?” Narcissa said, breathless. “How is she?”

“Tired, she’s raising Teddy on her own and he’s a Metamorphmagus as well.” Draco said with a laugh. “She defended you, you know,” he said gently, lowering his voice so that Auror Selwyn, who had managed to place her foot directly into a trick step and was fighting to regain her boot, wouldn’t hear. “When I thought you had disinherited me. She’d accept an owl, should you feel like sending one.”

“I might just do that,” his mother said as they walked on. A comfortable silence fell for a few minutes as they descended staircases and crossed halls.

“Draco, the last thing I wish is to be indelicate, but as your engagement to Pansy was in name only,” Narcissa said, faltering. Draco gave her an encouraging nod. “Would it be terrible manners for me to ask for the ring back? I wouldn’t usually, but it was my grandmother’s and I have nothing else of hers left.” It was unsaid that the raid on the Manor following the war had resulted in many heirlooms being taken, for possessing Dark magic.

Draco almost snorted to himself. Like Harry’s house didn’t have plenty of Dark magic. “Er, actually, Harry thought you might want the ring back, so I sent it with the letter. Whomever intercepted the letter and passed it to the Daily Prophet probably has it.”

“Yes,” Narcissa said softly, as the front door came into sight and Auror Selwyn tripped yet again. “Are you quite alright, Rose? And don’t worry, Draco, I can track the ring. I’ll reach out to our solicitor to press a defamation suit and whatever criminal charges come with stealing someone’s mail. Oh, I do hope Jason is alright. He’s a professionally trained owl; he must be driving his captor half mad.”

Draco felt his stomach drop somewhere to the vicinity of his knees. Whomever had intercepted Jason would have no reason to keep him alive if he were screeching and thrashing his wings every five seconds.

They reached the threshold and his mother pulled him into a tight hug. “I know the exams are almost upon you but please try to write and keep me updated. Use the school owls until I can locate Jason.”

“I will, Mother,” Draco said, returning the fierceness of her hold. He felt open and bruised and scarily vulnerable after all the revelations. “Thank you for coming out here, I know it can’t have been easy to arrange.”

“It was worth it, sweetheart,” Narcissa said. “Now I’m off, I need to send that owl to Andy.”

Those were the last words Draco heard before his world went black and he sank into unconsciousness.

…

When Draco blearily opened his eyes, his head was throbbing as if he had been hit with a bludger.

“Harry?” He mumbled, fighting to focus on his surroundings. He was tied to a stiff wooden chair as dust tickled the back of his throat.

His mother was bloody and unconscious, bound to a chair near him, arms and legs held by the same strong Incarcerous. He tested the strength of the ropes, struggling until he heard steps approaching.

“Ah, you’re awake. I do hope your restraints are comfortable.” Came a snide voice from just behind him.

“Delightful,” Draco lied. “Where did you learn to tie knots? Or have you yet to read the book? Trust me, the pictures are not good enough.”

“My, my, you do have a mouth on you, for one helpless to my every whim.”

Draco snorted. He couldn’t help it. Did this person think they could frighten him after he had shared a home with the Darkest wizard of a generation?

“So, why don’t you come out where I can see you, or are you too scared?” Draco dared. He didn’t know where this flippant bravery was coming from, but he placed the blame directly on Harry’s broad Gryffindor shoulders.

The thought bolstered his flagging courage. Harry would come for him. Harry was the Savior, as soon as he realized Draco was missing, he’d tear the castle apart stone by stone until he found him.

“I’m going to take the Mark from you,” Auror Selwyn said softly, her wand casting enough of a Lumos for him to see her face and the dusty room.

“You can’t,” Draco said resignedly. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried everything.”

“Yes, I can, I’ve found an incantation,” Selwyn said nastily, “Then I’ll have that much more power to carry on the cause.”

“No, you don’t understand, the Mark, it’s not a gift, it’s a curse.” Draco said, “You can’t just take it from me. Trust me when I say I’d gladly give it to you if I could.”

“I don’t believe you,” Selwyn said, her face twisted in anger. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would never curse his own followers.”

“You’ve never met him,” Draco said wryly.

He took a deep breath. He thought of Harry and the way he had stood defiantly in front of the Darkest wizard of their age. Harry would find him and in typical Savior flair rescue him from this utterly insane witch.

“I take it from your smile that you hit your head,” Selwyn said as she circled him, her wand still casting a soft lumos.

“Actually, I was thinking of what Harry’s going to do to you when he finds you,” Draco said smoothly. “He learned a lot from sharing the Dark Lord’s mind. And now you’ve taken something he loves. He isn’t going to rest until he finds me.”

“So that rumor was true? Potter and You-Know-Who shared powers?” Selwyn said, her eyes glinting with madness. Draco realized his mistake too late, as his mother stirred slightly.

Selwyn fired off another Stunner, and Narcissa slumped again in her seat.

“It looks like you’re just the doxy eggs to tempt the pixie. First I'll take the Mark from you. Then I'll take Potter's link to Him. I will be unstoppable, and the noble cause will resume.” She said as she used a spell to flip his hand over, drawing his sleeve up.

Chapter Text

Harry rubbed the back of his neck absently, his mind slowly turning over everything that had just happened.

He was so pleased for Draco and his mum… The way Draco had held her about the knees as she stroked his hair and told him she would always love him was something he didn’t think he’d ever forget. He hoped Mrs. Malfoy hadn’t minded his intrusion in such a deeply private family moment, but Draco had acted as if Harry had had every right to be there.

You do have a right to be there, a voice that sounded very much like Draco said in his mind. You’re family now, too.

He smiled to himself before frowning, a stray thought wriggling at the back of his mind. He coaxed it out. Who had intercepted Draco’s letter? Where was Draco’s owl? Harry realized someone must have been waiting for Jason specifically, because Draco hadn’t sent that letter with the morning post, he had waited a few hours while agonizing over the writing of his missive.

He shook his head, as though to dislodge a fly.

“So, tell me, Mr. Potter, what are your plans after graduation?” McGonagall asked, her sharp voice breaking through his reminiscing, reminding him that he was still sitting on the hard wooden chair she had conjured.

“I haven’t really decided,” Harry muttered, after a moment of trying to chase his scattered thoughts.

“Was it not your wish to become an Auror?” The Headmistress asked in her thick Scottish brogue.

“I... it was.” Harry mumbled, rubbing his thighs uncomfortably. “But then I found out what it was like to actually hunt a Dark wizard. I don’t want the rest of my life to be a repeat of last year.”

McGonagall spared him a piercing glance, before conjuring up a fresh biscuit tray. “And what is it you do want?”

“I don’t know.” Harry said with a flush betraying his stress. “I’m eighteen now, I know it’s time for me to find a real job and a future and-”

“Harry, I'm not testing you," she broke in, and the use of his first name was enough to stop him in his tracks. “You are right in saying that you are eighteen. With any luck, and a heap more self-preservation than you’ve shown in the past, you could live another century and a half. You have so much time. Take a breath and relax.” She gave a faint chuckle.

“That’s what Draco says,” Harry said miserably, having had this conversation with his nosy boyfriend a few times. It wasn’t the same. For Draco, he had Potions. He could brew and stew and stir and prod anywhere and be happy. Harry wasn’t the same. He had only ever been happy here, at Hogwarts. A place wasn’t an occupation though, and that was what he really needed. “But he’s also right when he says I wouldn’t be happy lying about, living off of my inheritances.”

“How would you feel about going for a Mastery in Defense? You would have many options open to you with such a Mastery. Teaching, for example.” She gave him a knowing glance. “Professor Gwilt says you have quite the knack with the students.”

“I-what?” Harry said, completely taken aback.

“You could try for your Mastery in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Gwilt has offered to sponsor you in the craft.” McGonagall said, seeming to relish the look of shock on his face. “You could study here. Though you’d have to set up a schedule that works for the both of you, there are classes to consider.”

“Er,” Harry said. Conflicting emotions rose up in him. He could stay, here at Hogwarts, the only place he had truly been happy. The joy at that thought was fierce and unrelenting. Then he thought of his friends, and their makeshift family. Disappointment was just as swift, he had been looking forward to living with his friends, building the home he had never had before. “I’m not sure I can. I’ve already agreed to have a few roommates, you see, and I really can’t disappoint them.” Harry said, with a quick thought of Hermione and Pansy, it wasn’t like he could leave either of them on the streets. And Draco too, if he was still going to move in after he and his mother had mended fences.

“Think about it and speak to Professor Gwilt. I’m sure you could come to some agreement,” McGonagall said, with a wave of her hand. “You’ll be a fully qualified wizard after all, there are many options available to you.”

Harry stared at her before closing his open mouth with a soft snap.

When it became clear that she had said as much as she intended to, he took his leave, letting her foist one last newt-shaped biscuit on him.

Getting a Mastery in Defense was something he hadn’t thought of. Honestly, he had never considered staying in school past Hogwarts, other than for Auror training, if you could even count Auror training as school. Since the Minister had offered him the position and intimated that it would be a formality only, Harry didn’t. Now he realized how foolish he was, Muggles went to University all the time. Look at Dudley.

He had also never thought of teaching as a career goal but now he could feel the tendrils of thought taking hold deep in his mind. He remembered helping Gwilt teach the fourth years Impedimenta just last week and little Hufflepuff Sara Johnson’s face when she had finally mastered the jinx. She had cackled as viciously as Pansy when her friend, a dewy-faced Slytherin named Orion Burke, had tripped and fallen over his bookbag.

The look of comprehension dawning on a student’s face had been something he had enjoyed since the DA. Suddenly he realized how very happy he would be teaching. And he was sure he could get hired as a Defense professor almost anywhere. Finally, defeating the Darkest wizard in a generation would be good for something. He choked back a laugh, imagining Voldemort’s expression if he had known his death was going to be put on someone’s resume.

He brushed his fingers on his robes, finishing the last of his biscuit. His mind flopped around his skull like a half-congealed potion, as he headed back to the Common Room. He considered stopping in the Great Hall since it was almost time for supper but decided he wanted to talk to Draco first.

While walking up a staircase, it abruptly moved, leaving him further from the Common Room than before. He shook his head absently. It had been ages since he had gone the wrong way in the castle.

Secretly he had begun believing what the Headmistress had said; that Hogwarts was somewhat sentient and fond of him for all the work he had put into restoring her.

Clearly, I was wrong Harry thought to himself, as yet another door refused to open for him, even though he was sure he was tickling it in the right spot.

Eventually, after a few more mishaps had reduced his thoughtful mood into something quite sour, he reached the weeping Saudade.

“Password?” Saudade asked croakily.

“Er,” Harry said. He couldn’t remember the password. It had been months since Saudade had asked him or Draco for one and he had stopped paying attention to them long ago.

“No password, no entrance,” the portrait said sulkily as Harry stared.

“Saudade, you know me, it’s Harry,” he said tentatively.

Harry had always wondered what would happen if one failed to supply a portrait with the correct password, in a vague sort of way. Now he found out.

Saudade simply walked away, leaving the large frame empty.

“Wanker,” Harry said under his breath. He thought for a few moments before conjuring up his swan Patronus.

The sight of the handsome bird still took his breath away and he admired it for a second before telling it to let the Common Room know he needed to be let in.

The swan misted through the vacant painting, and not a moment later it slid aside. Harry bustled in, nodding his thanks at Parvati for opening the door.

He crossed to Luna and Pansy, sitting heavily next to them.

“Draco?” he asked quickly.

“We haven’t seen him,” Luna said softly.

“Bullocks,” Harry said. “I need to talk to him. Where are ‘Mione and Blaise?”

“Hermione wanted to see if there was a way to increase the longevity of the potion Draco brewed, so they headed to the library. Blaise promised to watch her arm while she studies.” Luna replied in her dreamy voice.

Harry shook his head. If Draco said the potion was their best shot the way it was, then he couldn’t imagine Hermione finding anything in the library in one afternoon, no matter how well she could hunt down information.

“So, what happened? Are Draco’s parents alright?” Pansy asked quietly. Harry shifted uncomfortably, the absence of Kai making it feel as if he had an itch under his skin. He also hadn’t realized how much Draco had been worrying about his parents, but if Pansy was asking, Draco must have confided some of his stress in her. “Not that I give a toss about them, after the way they’ve treated Draco,” she added.

“They’re both fine,” Harry said, tentatively. “It was his mum. She read the article and came to Hogwarts to ask Draco if it was true.”

“What?” Pansy said, grasping the arm of the couch. “He sent her that letter ages ago.”

“She never got it,” Harry said. “Someone intercepted it and they must have been the ones that sent it to The Prophet.”

“She really had no idea?” Pansy asked, her voice dropping. “What did she say?”

“Er, she told him she’d always love him,” Harry said, before remembering the nasty letter Pansy had received from her father and that maybe it was tactless to tell her how well Narcissa had reacted. His heart sank as her eyes filled and she conjured up a scrap of lace masquerading as handkerchief to dab at her eyes.

“How beautiful,” Pansy said with a dainty sniff. “And what happened then?”

He glanced frantically at Luna, who was smiling and gesturing at him to continue. “You know what his father did?” At Pansy’s crisp nod, he continued. “Well, I made him tell her about it and you should have seen the way she looked. I can only imagine that when Lucius gets out of Azkaban, she’s going to murder him.”

“Good,” Pansy said fiercely, “Draco deserves to have at least one parent that loves him.”

“Yeah,” Harry echoed, wishing he could be talking about this with Draco instead of the very well-intentioned Pansy.

“Where is he by the way? I thought it was your solemn pledge to not even let him use the loo alone for the rest of term.”

“He wanted to walk his mum out and there was an auror with them and McGonagall wanted to speak with me…” Harry trailed off before realizing the utter foolishness of his explanation. Sure, there was an auror with Draco on the way out of the castle, but then Draco would be left to travel half the castle alone to get back to the eighth year Common Room.

Trying to keep a firm grip on his rising blood pressure, he Summoned the Marauder’s Map from Draco’s room.

You’re being ridiculous, he told himself, as he watched the Map blossom to life under his wand. After a quick scan yielded no results, he flattened the Map on the table. He felt the start of a panic attack hitting him and focused on his breathing. He couldn’t fall to pieces now.

“Help me find him,” he said, his cracking voice belying his nervousness to Pansy and Luna.

They three bent their heads over the Map. Harry first scanned the path from the Great Hall to the Common Room, reasoning that if Draco were on his way back that would be the most likely place he’d be found.

His heart sank, simultaneously beating faster when he didn’t spot Draco. Giving that up, he began scanning the crowds streaming in and out of the Great Hall, perhaps Draco had stopped for dinner on the way back? His breathing shortened when he couldn’t find Draco, coming in the sharp gasps he hadn’t felt in months.

Luna broke through his now rapidly rising panic with a sharp prod to the back of his hand with her wand.

“Ouch,” Harry exclaimed, glancing up, “What?”

“Look at Kai,” Luna said, her and Pansy staring downward.

Engrossed in his task, Harry had failed to notice Kai arriving and slithering frantically around his feet. She was hissing so fiercely he could make neither heads nor tails of what she was trying to tell him.

“Slow down, I can’t understand you,” Harry said sibilantly, picking her up and holding her at eye level.

“What’s she saying, Harry?” Pansy asked swiftly. Harry held up his free hand to silence her.

“The pale one! He is afraid! We must go to him, now!” Kai exclaimed, flicking her tongue at him. Harry wasted no time, he shot to his feet and was already out of the Common Room and halfway down the corridor when he heard Pansy shout at him from behind.

“What the bloody fuck is going on?” she yelled as Saudade slid home behind her and Luna.

“Kai says Draco is in trouble! Let’s go!” Harry shouted back, not pausing in his mad dash down the hall.

Pansy didn’t bother asking more questions, he heard her tear after him, swiftly catching up on his right side. Luna’s pink trainers slapped the stones to his left as she too joined in the chase.

“Where is the pale one?” Harry gasped out; not even sure Kai would understand him in his breathless state. One hand kept her steady on his shoulder while his other kept his wand rock-steady and leading the way.

“His distress comes from below,” Kai said, as a door appeared at the end of the corridor Harry was rushing down.

Throwing caution to the winds and placing his trust entirely in the castle he had always considered home, Harry flung open the door and toppled through the black entryway.

It was a trick door, and it opened not unto steps but a slide. Harry felt his feet shoot out from under him as he fell on his arse, hard. Then he began a steep, slippery decent. He frantically clasped his hand even tighter to his shoulder, keeping Kai stable while trying desperately not to squish her. His other hand scrabbled at the walls before flinging out to try break his fall should the slide stopped suddenly.

For at least four floors Harry slid, hearing Pansy’s occasional shriek and Luna’s mad peals of laughter as they descended. Eventually the slide evened out for long enough that Harry felt their terrific speed slow to something only mildly dangerous.

He fetched up against something unforgiving, slamming his snake-free shoulder quite painfully against the stiff barrier. Pansy crashed into him, with a profusion of elbows and sharp knees. Not a moment later Luna hit them with the force of an Erumpent in heat and Harry felt the breath knock out of his lungs.

How he managed to keep Kai from being squished, he had no idea, but he was thankful to all the powers that be as Kai hissed at him, “You must hurry!”

He gulped at the thought of what would make Kai so worried, the tiny serpent having never directed him into action so forcefully before.

He felt rather than saw Luna hoist Pansy up behind him as he scrambled to his feet. He felt along the wall they had slammed into and noticed a seam with the pads of his fingertips. He ran a few questing fingers along it before finding a handle. He Summoned the wand he had dropped along the way, thankful when the warm holly wood was once again in his palm.

“Lumos,“ he whispered, taking a firm grip on his wand.

He flung the heavy door open, thrusting his wand forward threateningly. He was disappointed however, the door opened up into the foyer before the Great Hall. The few straggling students that saw him with a glowing wand squawked, disappearing into the Hall.

Harry paid them no mind, charging forward, listening for Kai in case she tried to stop him. He sprinted out of the castle and down the stone stairs, taking them three at a time as the girls hustled to keep pace with him.

The sun had set, night arriving much earlier this far north. A crisp spring breeze mocked his anxiety with all its promises of birth and growth.

The Dark Forest drew his eye, as forbidding as always. The Black Lake was just as worrisome, its inky depths stretching into the horizon. He cursed his recklessness, he had forgotten the Marauder’s Map in the Common Room. How was he supposed to know if Draco was even on the grounds?

“Which way? Left, or right?” Harry asked Kai desperately as he skidded to a stop. He scanned the grounds, his wand casting a feeble light in the velvety darkness, as Pansy put her hands on her knees in an attempt to catch her breath.

“What is left or right? The pale one is where he is, still below, and he is in danger.” Kai said, almost spitting in her impatience.

Harry slapped a palm to his scarred forehead. Of course, a snake wouldn’t know left from right. They turned their bodies first one way and then the other when they slithered along. It was the goal that mattered, not the journey.

Harry ran through his list of memorized spells, hoping against hope he would come up with a decent locator spell. The only one he could think of was one that pointed his wand due north but that was less than useless just now.

“Do either of you know a locator spell?” Harry asked the witches, desperation making his voice hoarse.

“No,” Luna said gently as Pansy shook her head.

“Fuck, what do we do? How do we find him?” Harry asked frantically, his magic rising without his command. The wind picked up as he nervously twirled his wand in his fingers.

Neither girl said anything, Pansy looking particularly worried, as Harry took a moment to wrack his brains more thoroughly. If only he could see what Kai could see, he was sure he could reason it out then.

He froze. Of course. See what Kai could see.

His memories of Voldemort possessing Nagini rose to the front of his mind. He knew it was reckless and probably dangerous to try magic without knowing the consequences or even the incantation, but he couldn’t see any alternative. All he knew was that it was a chance to find Draco, and that was enough for him.

His magic continued to rise, undulating off of him in waves. The wind fed from his magic, forcing the girls to step back. Strange symbols and lights flicked across their faces, what little he could see through the haze.

“I need your help.” Harry hissed softly, bringing Kai back around to look at him. “Will you permit me to use your eyes? I need to see what you see to find the pale one.”

Kai flicked her tongue as if to taste the magic saturating the air, weaving her neck back and forth. She flicked her tongue once more and then, swift as a snitch, bit his finger. Too shocked to react, Harry felt her venom enter his bloodstream and course its way to his heart. His finger went numb, then his arm. His heart pounded forcefully, sending the venom to every cell of his body as he watched Kai raise herself up, her hood flaring.

She spread herself fully, swaying back and forth as he felt the rest of his fingers and toes begin to tingle. The tingle turned into burning as he gasped with the pain. Still, he remained immobile, transfixed by her eyes. Usually coal-black, her eyes began glowing as white as her scales. Entranced, she became a thing of power and beauty, magic coursing between them as power-fueled gusts screamed.

The burning increased, and Harry felt the overwhelming need to move, to shift, to give way.

With a wrench, he did. The ground shuddered and the wind reached a fever pitch.

Vacantly he noticed he hadn’t actually moved, but rather that something had changed within him. He was not alone in his body. Kai was there too, just as he was in her body, still resting in his/their palm. He/they placed her/their body on their shoulder, the unification of their minds slowly finishing.

They tasted the air with their forked tongue, noting the delicious taste of fear in the air.

“Do not be afraid, we will not hurt you,” They hissed from chapped lips.

“Harry, is that you? We can’t understand you, we don’t speak Parseltongue,” Luna said calmly, not even reaching for her wand. Her aura was uninteresting in its peace and serenity.

“Yes,” They said, trying the weight of the word in their mouth. The word was thick and difficult, but not impossible. They abstained from feeding from either witch, though the panic from Pansy laid tempting on the air.

“Are you alright?” Luna asked, Pansy stepping forward with her wand in her hand.

“Yes,” They said again, remembering their urgency. They scanned the grounds carefully.

There, down the knoll, at the edge of the grounds, a cloud of magic hung in the air. They recognized Draco’s aura, bright with fear and horror, threatened by a mass of tangled magic. Without another thought, they took off at a run, using the knowledge of one to sort out which leg went where.

They sprinted down the hill, skirting the edge of the Black Lake as they aimed for the small ramshackle building on its edge. They stuck to the shadows, tasting the air as they went. They could taste two others with their Draco. One was unconscious, but the other, the other tasted violent and unstable. They flattened their neck.

They found an opening into the building, slinking in while Luna and Pansy followed.

“I will be unstoppable, and the noble cause will resume.” Came a witch’s voice as they crept down a set of rickety stairs, moving noiselessly. A creak came from behind them, and they paused to look back. Pansy looked abashed as Luna hastily cast a charm to muffle the sounds of their feet.

“You can try,” came Draco’s voice, faint but still posh and spiteful. They felt their lips curl into a proud smile. Not even under threat would their pale one show weakness. A door rose up out of the darkness, and they shook the handle quietly. It didn’t budge.

“I’ve been watching you, you know, since you left Azkaban. I was hoping as the only openly Marked wizard not in hiding you would be the banner to which we flocked.” They tapped the door handle with their wand, hissing a spell to unlock the door. The wand felt lifeless in their palm and they absently tucked back it into a pocket. Pansy tugged on their elbow.

“We?” They heard Draco ask. They scented the magic in the air. Draco’s was still strong and steady, as Pansy began casting silent charms at the door blocking their way to the pale one. Swiftly, Luna joined in. The magic of the two witches joined together, seamlessly attempting to open the unresponsive door. They felt their lips pull into a frown. The door seemed to be enforced with a netted enchantment.

“We, the ones not in His inner circle, the ones on the edges that still carry out his bidding! The Resistance!” came a proud voice.

“And what is the bidding you carry out?” Draco asked, sounding as though he were inspecting his nail beds.

“Imprisoning Mudbloods! Purging them from our society. Along with all other undesirables.”

“Undesirables? Such as what?”

“Why, such as yourself,” the witch’s voice said softly, “I don’t imagine you know who I am?”

“Rose Selwyn, soon-to-be-former Auror,” Draco responded promptly as Pansy threw a few more spells at the door. “I must admit I don’t recognize your name though I was raised knowing every pureblood family going back five generations. Must be careful of breeding too close, you know.”

“Perhaps you know me by my maiden name, Prewett.”

“Ah, yes… Rose Prewett, oldest daughter of Cygnus and Iris Prewett. You must have married Cygnus Selwyn. Tell me, what’s it like being married to a man with the same name as your father?”

“That is not the point!” Selwyn shrieked. She really did have the most extraordinary range of vocal noises, they noted.

“And what is?”

“You and your unnaturalness gave my brother the nerve to openly bring his filthy Mudblood boyfriend home. Now our widowed mother is falling all over herself to reinstate him as the heir of the family. Because of you I’m going to lose my entire inheritance.” Her voice ran up to an octave previously undiscovered. “I’m the one that did my duty, I married right! I followed You-Know-Who when he came back. I have done everything to keep the Mudbloods locked up! I healed you as best as I could when given the chance!”

“Oh, you simple bitch. You really think keeping the bloodlines pure was the Dark Lord’s true goal? No wonder you never made it into his inner circle. It was a means to an end, that was all.” Their pale one said with the disdain only he could muster.

“Then what was his desire?” the witch asked, her screech dulled as they noticed the magic above and around them throb in expectation.

“Power, nothing more. Historically, who used to be the most prestigious families in the magical world? The purebloods. He manipulated us, banking on our vanity and greed. He told us we deserved more power and wealth, and we believed him. We wanted it enough that we signed away our souls, our magic. We became less than witches and wizards, we became his tools. Used until we had nothing left, then cast aside.”

“Lies!” the witch exclaimed, her magic throbbing madly. They flicked their tongue. The witch’s distress was potent stuff. They would make quite the meal out of her when the time was right. They were pleased by their Draco’s calm voice when his aura betrayed his heavy fear.

“Really? Then why was my father left in Azkaban until the Dark Lord deigned to break him out?” Not waiting for an answer, Draco continued. “Because he had lost his value. He no longer had access to the lofty corridors of the Ministry, or the Minister’s ear. It wasn’t until the Dark Lord needed a comfortable place to hold court that my father was broken out of Azkaban.”

“I think you’re stalling,” the witch’s voice said suddenly. “I think you don’t want me to take your Mark. I think you’re trying to give your precious boyfriend time to find us.” The word was spat with more venom than was currently coursing through their veins.

“Of course, I want Harry to find us. He’s going to rip you limb from limb. He killed the Dark Lord after all.” Draco said quietly. “In fact, you had better hurry before he catches you. You can try to take my Mark and when you fail, you can leave.”

“Oh, I will take your Mark, and then I will wait until The Savior comes to find you. When he sees what I have done, he will know I am more powerful than even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“Except the Dark Lord is dead, isn’t he? Doesn’t take much to be more powerful than that.” The heavy thud of flesh striking flesh followed those words and they sensed the two witches behind them flinch. Still, they remained frozen, as Pansy kept firing spells at the lock, her frantic energy kicking up a notch.

“You will not speak such blasphemy in my presence.”

Draco grunted. “Very well, try to take the Mark from my arm, if that’s what you want, I’ll be well glad to be rid of it. Just try to fail quickly, I want you to have a decent head start before Harry comes for me.”

“Have you not realized? To take the Mark, I must take your entire magical core. You’ll be left as a Squib, or dead.” A mad cackle sounded.

“Good luck.” Draco said in a tired voice.

“When the others have seen that I did what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could not do, I will become the unquestioned leader of the Resistance, and all will bow before me.”

The witch began muttering a complicated enchantment, her voice rising and falling in cadences. They paid no attention to the words; it was the magic in the air that arrested their attention. No longer slowly pulsing, the nebulous cloud bloomed, quickly overwhelming the pale one’s own magic.

Suddenly knowing whatever was happening was dangerous and risking Draco’s life, they stormed forward. The door and its netted wards were abruptly not an issue as they vanished without a splinter left behind. They bore over the threshold, relishing the momentary look of shock on the witch’s face. Pansy fired off a Stunner, and the auror fell back, collapsing against the far wall.

Pansy rushed forward, keeping her wand on the witch as Luna ran to Narcissa. Draco’s mother was tied to a chair, her head lolling to the side.

They hardly noticed this as their attention was focused on the pale one. He was unconscious, his magic completely enveloped by the enchantment billowing in the air. They hissed in displeasure as they ran forward. They raised a steady hand to run a finger along his jaw. His breathing was steady, but his magic was still helplessly tangled in the half-started enchantment.

They paused, gaze trained upward as Pansy and Luna bound one witch and untied the other.

“What’s wrong with him?” Pansy asked, after she had cast an Enervate at Draco and he refused to rouse.

“His magic is caught in the enchantment.” They said softly, eyes still cast upward as they mapped the lines of magic.

“Can you fix it?” Luna asked from where she was crouched next to Narcissa, who had slid from her chair the moment the ties were released.

“We can try,” they replied as they drew themselves up fully. They rolled up their sleeves and took a firm grip on their holly wand.

They let their magic guide them as they carefully began teasing the threads of magic apart, sorting what went where absently. The auror’s magic was cloying and Dark, like a Dementor’s robe. Draco’s was peaceful and warm, like a lit fire on a cold night. They found it comforting, even if it wasn’t as tasty as the witch’s.

A sweat broke out on their brow, the effort of cautiously pulling each twisting nebulous string from the bundle showing. Laboriously they continued, dragging every strand of Dark magic from Draco’s core.

They slogged on for over an hour, carefully separating the tangled web of magic. Pansy and Luna finally slid down a wall to quietly converse and watch the proceedings with beady eyes.

Eventually they finished, spinning the last strand of magic into the auror. Absently they tucked their wand into a pocket.

“Are you done?” Pansy asked quietly as Luna scrambled to her feet.

“Yes, we are,” they hissed before remembering to use words. “We are.” They enunciated carefully.

“Draco will be alright?” Narcissa asked quietly from next to their elbow, and they almost started. They hadn’t noticed her waking up or getting so close. She was grasping Draco’s hand as though her life depended on it.

“We should get him to the Hospital Wing,” Luna said quickly, as they nodded their agreement. She proceeded to conjure up two stretchers. Carefully Pansy levitated each person onto their own stretcher.

They locked onto Draco’s face, ignoring all else now that the danger was past. They tucked a strand of his hair behind an ear. “We love you.” they whispered sibilantly.

“Harry,” Luna called, “Will you go first? Make sure the way is clear?”

"Yes,” they hissed softly, brushing their fingertips across his brow one more time.

The stretchers levitated, and they took their place at the front of the line. Narcissa limped up to stand next to him. They offered their arm and felt their skin purple under her bruising grip.

Half an hour later they were knocking on the infirmary door. Each student that had seen them had taken one look at their stony expression and had run the opposite direction.

Madam Pomfrey threw open the door, her face not betraying the tightened awareness her aura broadcast.

“Bring them this way,” she said as Luna and Pansy directed the floating patients to the open beds the nurse pointed at.

They went quietly, following Draco and standing just next to the cot as Draco’s limp form was levitated onto a starched hospital bed.

“I say, Mr. Potter, you really must stand back,” Madam Pomfrey said as she bustled past him to take Draco’s vitals with a wave of her wand.

They said nothing in response, merely moving to stand at the foot of the cot, as Pansy and Luna exchanged looks.

“What has happened?” Came the strident voice of the Headmistress. Her heels clicked on the floor as she strode into the infirmary, her aura tense and worried. They flicked their tongue in appreciation, not bothering to look up.

“This boy’s magical core has been compromised,” Madame Pomphrey said, gesturing at Draco as she looked up from checking over the auror.

“Will he be alright?” Narcissa asked desperately, once again taking their arm in a bruising grasp.

“I believe so,” Madame Pomfrey said. “I’ll want him to go to St. Mungo’s to get checked out just to be sure.”

Just then the auror moaned and thrashed in her bed. They hissed and flattened their hood at her. They would happily bite her if their venom were deadly. As it were, they would have to be contented by her suffering. They felt a smile stretch across their lips.

Narcissa drew herself up, her anger flaring hot and bright. “Selwyn attacked us. I came to when these three had tracked us down. I must insist that she is held until formal charges can be brought.”

“These are very serious allegations, which must be brought to the Minister himself.” McGonagall said after a moment of silently assimilating that information. “And just how did you three know to go looking for Mr. Malfoy and his mother?”

“Kai told Harry that Draco was in danger,” Pansy said as Luna walked up beside them and placed a gentle hand on their arm.

“Who is Kai?” Narcissa asked, her fingers still locked on their other arm.

“Harry’s snake,” Luna said softly. “She’s very fond of Draco. Professor, I think Harry and Kai might have Joined.”

“What?” McGonagall demanded, her aura growing agitated. “Mr. Potter, is this true?”

They didn’t respond, they merely looked back at their Draco, patiently waiting for him to wake.

“What is Joined?” Pansy asked, her anxiety spiking deliciously.

“It’s when a witch or wizard merges with an animal familiar,” McGonagall said crisply. “It usually requires the casting of complicated and powerful magic. For it to happen spontaneously is… rare… and dangerous.”

“Are they going to be okay?” Pansy asked swiftly.

“I don’t know,” McGonagall answered honestly, her soothing accent belying the import of her words. “Spontaneous Joinings have only happened a few times in documented history, and only when there is true need and a bond of love. Sometimes that love wins out and the Joined pair refuses to spilt. They must find a reason strong enough to pull themselves apart, something they love more than themselves or each other. They cannot survive as they are now, two beings in two bodies.”

“Why would they refuse to split?” Luna asked as they felt Narcissa release their arm and sink into a chair next to Draco’s head. She began carding her hand through his hair. A sharp pain fissioned through them. He-no, they wished to take her place, to run their fingers through their Draco’s hair. They hissed inaudibly. That was his mate.

“It is said to be extremely painful to split from a Joining, so painful that most pairs would rather die together.” McGonagall answered softly. They hardly heard her, focused as they were on the pale figure sprawled across the stiff hospital cot. “Hence the complicated incantations usually cast to ensure the safety of the witch or wizard in question.”

Pain was lancing from their instep to their flared throat, setting every piece, every molecule of them afire. The pain got worse, and they hissed under their breath. It was searing through them. They couldn’t remember ever being in so much pain, not even when he-they had died.

They were teetering on the edge of the pain, knowing that if they wanted to, they could fall either way. To one side was more pain, almost frightening in its depth and intensity. The other was death, cold and sterile.

He/they had died before. It was as easy a falling asleep, and just as peaceful. Living was what was hard, and painful. More painful than the fire blazing its way up his/their spine.

Draco moaned, flinging his head across his pillow, his lanky limbs pulling in on himself. Their skin was itching, burning, vibrating off of their skeleton.

Draco’s eyes fluttered open and locked onto them.

They took a deep breath and ripped themselves violently apart.

Chapter Text

Draco fought his way back to consciousness with the now-recognizable antiseptic smell of the Hospital Wing heavy in his nostrils. He could hear McGonagall giving a lecture and though he couldn’t make out the words, her voice was soothing in its familiarity.

“Harry,” was the one word he recognized. He twitched, trying to open the eyelids that felt stuck with the muggle glue Hermione had shown him. Something was happening, he could tell by McGonagall’s tone, and he desperately needed to be awake.

He managed to unstick his eyes, blinking blearily to clear them, and spotted his boyfriend standing unnaturally still at the foot of his bed. It was odd. Harry was always shifting, moving, ready to jump into action. To see him frozen was like seeing the ocean tide on pause. Harry’s asphodel green eyes bore into him, pinning him in place. Then Harry abruptly toppled forward, hitting the floor with a deep thunk.

“If it’s not one, it’s the other,” Madame Pomfrey said exasperatedly as she rushed over, waving her wand. Harry was levitated to the bed on his left, Luna darting forward to bend down near where Harry had fallen.

“Wha’s happen’d?” Draco asked, surprised at how raspy his voice came out. His memories were a confusing blur of the emotionally charged conversation with his mother, the ranting of the auror, and the swirling of powerful magic as his world had fallen to black.

His mother, now seated on the other side of him, jumped at his voice, bringing her eyes back around to stare at him. She clutched his hand in her own, “Draconis, dear, you’re awake. How do you feel?” Narcissa asked as she scrutinized his face. “Would you like some water?”

He shook his head as Luna took the few steps to Draco’s side, placing an unconscious Kai in his lap. He began patting the limp little serpent, keeping a sharp eye on Harry being settled into the cot between him and the unconscious auror.

“How’s ‘Arry?” Draco slurred, his voice refusing to comply with his usual diction.

“We really should summon Healers from St Mungo’s,” Madame Pomfrey said, not increasing his confidence one bit. “Mr. Malfoy seems fine now, but the other two need serious medical attention.” His mother made a small sound of protest. “Of course, Mr. Malfoy should still be examined, just to be sure.”

His mother nodded her agreement, quietly grateful.

“Expecto Patronum!” barked the Headmistress from next to Madame Pomfrey. Her silver tabby cat Patronus erupted from her wand. “Go to Minister Shacklebolt, tell him we need at least three Healers, and a few back-up aurors.”

The Patronus streaked to the wall, phasing through it as Draco watched silently. Just as he began wondering why her Patronus had different markings than her Animagus form, Pansy levitated a couple of chairs to his bedside, dropping them with another heavy thunk. He flinched inadvertently, startled.

His mother once again swung worried eyes to examine him. Her gaze lit upon his left cheekbone. He could feel a bruise blossoming to life there, from where the auror had struck him.

He focused on the throb, letting each pulse of pain pull his erratic thoughts back together.

His view of Harry was unimpeded as Madame Pomfrey had gone from Harry’s bedside to circle the auror like an over-watchful Hippogriff hen. He grunted his annoyance, his vocabulary just now seeming to consist entirely of harsh moans and raspy words.

Harry responded to that sound, turning his head to face Draco blindly. Draco reached out a hand, certain that even in his weakened state he could make the small distance between their cots.

He had barely grasped the edge of Harry’s sheets when a disturbance yet again pulled his fractious attention.

A small contingent of scarlet-robed aurors and green-clad Healers arrived, brushing Floo ash from their robes. The Healers started to focus on Harry and the injured auror, pushing Draco’s hand from Harry’s bed almost absently.

Draco opened his mouth to complain, and his mother tapped his shoulder softly from the other side of the bed.

“Not just yet, Draco, our time will come.” She whispered quietly; so that only he, Pansy, and Luna could hear her. He nodded clumsily at her; his movements still disjointed.

Everyone knew his father had murmured threats into some ears, and slid gold in other’s palms. Yet Lucius had never matched his mother for pure cunning and perseverance. She was the true Slytherin in the family and he trusted her judgement implicitly.

If she said to wait, he would wait. Besides, he wasn’t sure he could come up with a better plan in his befuddled state.

He laid quietly, assessing if his Occlumency shields were still up, just in case. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they were.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust aurors, it was just that he had never met an auror he could trust.

He wished Harry were conscious, and able to come to his defense if needed. He would probably never stop being a touch bitter that he relied on Harry so much to keep safe in the wizarding world, but pride mattered little when faced with the vitriol his name inspired.

Eventually the Healers pulled off to the side, talking in a quiet circle as the aurors shifted to form a crimson barrier between him, his mother, Pansy, and Luna; and Harry and Selwyn.

Still his mother made no move. She merely raised one pale eyebrow at the display, keeping a soft palm on his shoulder. Kai gave a distressed hiss from his lap, and he patted her gently.

Harry would be fine, Draco told himself, he had a team of Healers watching his every move. Kai was another story. No qualified witch or wizard were on their way to examine her.

He lifted Kai gingerly, casting a careful eye over her. She was wriggling intently, so he knew she was physically unharmed, hissing almost incessantly. He caressed her once more before looking over at Harry. He needed Harry to talk to her to make sure she was alright.

Draco watched as an auror flicked their wand surreptitiously and a faint buzzing filled his ears. He managed not to roll his fuddled eyes, but it was a near thing. Then a foggy wall bloomed around his cot and visitors, obscuring the majority of the room from view.

Pansy actually did roll her eyes at that, as Narcissa raised a graceful finger. “We might not be able to see them but rest assured that they can see us.”

“I hope they can hear me too,” Pansy said sharply, not bothering to match Narcissa’s low whisper. “Just wait until Harry finds out how they’re treating us. Hermione too. They both have the ear of the Minister, and a keen sense of justice.”

The fog stayed in place, though it seemed to wobble uncertainly along the edges. Draco could feel Pansy’s smirk.

“I’m sure you’ve all read the papers,” Luna began in her earnest way. Draco wondered at her opening before remembering that her father also owned a publication that, on more occasions than the Prophet, ran the truth. “Draco is indeed Harry’s boyfriend. If Harry wakes up and Draco is under whatever enchantment this is instead of receiving the medical care he needs…” Luna trailed off.

The cloud flinched again before resuming its nebulous form. Kai hissed once more, almost spitting, and he looked down at her, surprised at her volume. She was usually a rather quiet serpent. She was raised up, weaving at the cloud, as though about to strike.

“Children,” his mother chided, “always so impatient. It’s a wonder all of you aren’t Sorted Gryffindor.”

Draco huffed a silent laugh at that, as he did his best to sooth Kai with gentle pats and murmurs. Little did his mother know how close Harry Bloody Potter had been to being Sorted Slytherin. What a lion amongst the snakes that would have been. Or perhaps he would have taught the serpents to grow manes, as Kai and now Pansy seemed to have.

“Headmistress! Will you please explain to them that Draco needs the Healers’ attention?” Pansy said loudly, waving her hands for added effect. “I know you can see me. You overrule everyone who steps foot on Hogwarts’ grounds.”

The cloudy wall once again shifted guiltily.

“Minister, I know that means you’re here too,” Pansy said before Draco could reason that out. “Draco needs a Healer!”

Nothing happened.

“Please, don’t make me watch another needless death,” Pansy pleaded dramatically. Draco was sure everyone saw through her ruse. “Just come check on him!”

“Really, Miss Parkinson, do get a grip on yourself,” came the thick Scottish brogue of the Headmistress, resonating through the pulsating magical barrier. “Mr. Malfoy has been under Healer surveillance since they arrived. He was assessed as stable and low risk, the other two required more immediate attention.”

“Ah,” said Pansy eloquently.

“That is why you wait,” his mother said softly.

“Still, it got their attention,” Pansy said smugly, brazening it out. “Are we able to see Harry soon? How is he?”

The fog parted momentarily as the Headmistress, the Minister, and what looked to be the Head Auror stepped out.

“Mr. Potter has given us his account of the evening. You will be pleased to know that Rose Selwyn has been charged with treason, abduction, and assault. We’ll be needing your memories as evidence and more charges may be brought as the full events of the night are uncovered,” said the barrel-chested auror.

He pulled a few vials from his cloak, handing them out.

Being on probation as he was, Draco knew he had no choice but to comply with the Head Auror’s request. He muttered the incantation he had known since fifth year and pulled the silvery strand of memory from his temple. He let the strand settle into the vial, carefully flicking it off of the end of his wand. Pansy and Luna, after watching a moment, followed suit.

His mother, who had taken her flask wordlessly, held it between two fingers as though it were a venomous insect, ready to bite.

“It there a problem, Mrs. Malfoy?” Head Auror Robards asked in a professionally bored voice.

“I don’t have a wand,” she answered, her tone rigid. He was sure he was the only one that could detect the vulnerability under that carefully polite tone.

“What?” He asked, his bushy eyebrows shooting toward his salt-and-pepper hairline.

“My wand was lost during the final battle,” Narcissa said, her head held high. Draco shrunk into his cot a little, the shame of losing his mother’s wand washing over him once again.

“Surely you purchased a replacement?” the Minister asked. “I know the reparations were steep, but a wand is not a large expense for one as wealthy as you.”

“I was told I was not permitted one,” Narcissa said simply, leaving unsaid her willingness to follow her probation to the letter.

“Was it perhaps Selwyn who told you of that particular restriction?” The Head Auror asked gently.

“It was,” Narcissa confirmed after a moment. Wordlessly Draco offered his wand. She took it just as quietly, pulled the memory from her temple, and replaced the blackthorn wand in his grasp as soon as her silvery memory was swirling in the glass vial.

“I suppose it goes without saying that I’ll be hearing from your barrister?” Minister Shacklebolt asked resignedly. “The press is going to have a field day with this.”

“Perhaps you could merely assign someone to go over the exact details of my house arrest with me?” Narcissa countered. “At least, as it pertains to my case. Draco is a different story, I’m afraid.”

“Of course,” the minister said graciously, something unspoken having been agreed upon between them.

Draco decided then that as he couldn’t understand the conversations around him, his time might be better served resting. His head ached and his eyes were thick with exhaustion. He leaned back into his stiff cot, placing Kai into the curve of where his neck met his shoulder. He shut his eyes expectantly, fully anticipating to drop-off immediately.

His mind, however, had other plans. As soon as he shut his eyes his brain decided to wake up. All he could think of was Harry, and the fact that he was awake enough to make a statement. Awake and not at his bedside while Kai circled herself, coiling into the crook of his throat.

Kai gave a soft, sleepy hiss in his ear and he raised a hand to pat her once more. He laid like that, mind whirring and body aching, for what must have been close to an hour.

Regretfully he decided there was too much on his mind to allow him to fall asleep, so he opened his eyes again. Pansy and Luna were sat at his bedside, quietly conversing while casting occasional covert glances his way.

His mother still had her hand on his snake-free shoulder but was speaking quietly to the Head Auror and another scarlet-robed witch.

“Very well, Mr. Malfoy, the Healers agree that you are well enough to leave the Hospital Wing.” Madame Pomfrey said, bustling up to interrupt his wandering thoughts. “Make sure you drink plenty of liquid and get a full night’s sleep. If you have any unexpected changes in condition, come straight back.” She directed the last part at Pansy and Luna, who both nodded solemnly. “The same goes for Mr. Potter, if you can manage to get him to stay still longer than five minutes,” she didn’t seem to notice Luna’s giggle and Pansy’s elbow to her ribs.

He thanked her swiftly, drawing her attention back onto himself as he swung his legs to the side of his cot. All he could think of was getting to Harry. Harry would make him feel better.

“Mr. Malfoy, what are you doing?” McGonagall asked, as Narcissa’s sharp eyes pinned him in place, half risen.

“Madame Pomfrey said I can go,” he began tentatively. “I want to sleep in my own bed.”

“More like you want to sleep in Harry’s bed,” Pansy countered with a wink. An auror cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Oh, piss off,” Pansy snapped. “If your auror buddy here hadn’t attacked Draco, you wouldn’t have to listen to me.”

“Pansy,” Narcissa said sharply from above him. Draco flinched, having rarely heard her use that tone. “Now is not the time.”

Pansy nodded graciously to Narcissa, and then, as soon as her head was turned, stuck her tongue out at the offending auror.

“Can I go now?” Draco asked plaintively, his voice still rough.

“In a moment,” his mother assured him, as he straightened up, holding Kai to a shoulder absently.

Draco stood by her side carefully, to present the unified front he assumed she wanted. She quickly disabused him of that notion as she spun him around to face her. She tilted his head this way and that with a gentle touch to his chin.

“Yes, that’s going to be quite the bruise. Perhaps Madame Pomfrey could do something?”

“Mother, it’s just a bruise,” Draco said as the Healers reached into their robes as one. “I’ve had enough of potions and enchantments for the day. I’ll come back tomorrow if it bothers me.”

“Very well, dear,” she said with fond smile. “Are you sure you feel well enough to leave?”

“Yes. I’ll owl you tomorrow,” He promised.

“I trust his letter will not be read?” Narcissa asked, turning her head toward Head Auror Guwain pointedly. He looked highly discomfited. Draco chose that moment to kiss her cheek, she could well look after herself.

“Er, seeing as you’re both serving sentences for the Wizengamot in one way or another, your post is routinely screened by the DMLE.”

“Ah, so the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is the reason my son’s letter detailing his sexuality was leaked to the Prophet? And where is his owl? Is Jason in the custody of the DMLE?”

“Rose Selwyn may have screened that letter in her official capacity, but she operated on her own when she released it to the press. We can, of course add that to her list of charges.” The Head Auror said stiffly. “As for Mr. Malfoy’s owl, I’m afraid I have no idea where it is.” Guwain flicked his eyes at the auror closest to him, who immediately pulled a roll of parchment and quill from a hidden pocket and began scribbling hasty notes.

“Come on,” Luna muttered, tugging his sleeve until he turned toward the exit. Faking a bravado, he strode through the official robes of the Healers and Aurors. He could feel the weight of the aurors’ gaze on his nape as he passed, making his skin crawl.

He was still half expecting an auror to call him back and chuck him in Azkaban when the Hospital Wing door swung shut behind him, barking his heels painfully. Draco flinched while registering what was in front of him.

There, standing with his wand in hand, staring at the far end of the corridor, was Harry.

He opened his mouth to greet his boyfriend, but the air seemed to escape his lungs. Harry was breathlessly beautiful. His jaw was sharp, his arms were thick and muscled, and his eyes… His asphodel leaf eyes could cut through the strongest magic. The only thing that lent his appearance a touch of softness was his mop of unruly hair. Harry turned at the sound of the door swinging shut.

“Draco,” Harry whispered, rushing forward to pull him into a tight hug. “Are you alright? Kai said you were fine, but I’ve been so worried.”

“You… you were worried about me?” Draco asked almost hysterically. He pulled himself roughly from Harry’s grasp. “You lost consciousness at the foot of my bed. I thought you were dead or worse!” he poked Harry in the chest, his voice rising. “I was so scared! You can’t do things like that to me! I don’t know what I would do without you.” His poking finger had somehow turned into his pounding Harry’s chest with his fists weakly.

Eventually Harry grabbed him by the wrists and then pulled him forward, into another bone-crushing hug.

“I’m glad you’re okay too,” Harry whispered into his shoulder.

“Much as you two make a lovely, if confusing, picture, can we please get back to the Common Room?” Pansy interrupted them. “Draco needs rest.”

“You’re right,” Harry said with a weak chuckle, “Hermione and Blaise are probably going mad. She’s going to keep me up half the night with her questions.”

“No.” Draco heard himself say definitively. “We are going to wash, because I stink of lake scum, and frankly, you’re worse.” Harry made a noise of objection. “And then we’re going to bed,” Draco continued, talking over Harry. “Hermione and Blaise and can wait till morning. You and I need sleep.”

“Draco’s right,” Pansy agreed. “You’ve both expended a huge amount of magical energy. We can fill enough of the story in to satisfy ‘Mione for the night. You two need to take care of yourselves and each other.”

Perhaps it was Pansy’s use of Hermione’s nickname, or maybe it was her reminder to Harry that he needed to care for Draco, but whatever the reason, Harry gave a nod and began tugging Draco along the hall, as if by leading the way they would get there faster.

They went up a flight of stairs he had never used and found themselves in front of Saudade much sooner than he had expected.

“Isn’t the Hospital Wing ages from our Common Room?” Draco murmured, confused.

“I’ll explain later,” Harry said quietly, throwing a strong arm under his armpits. “Now, let’s ham up the theatrics just a touch so that ‘Mione leaves us be.”

Draco smiled softly, leaning across Harry as though the only thing keeping him up was Harry’s stiff spine. He kept most of his weight off of his boyfriend though, still worried about Harry’s own brush with death.

Saudade nodded once before sliding aside. Draco caught a nose full of the must and muck clinging to his boyfriend’s hair and resolved to shove him headfirst into the baths as soon as possible.

They crossed the Common Room with no issues, as everyone was fully used to them exchanging casual touches at this point. As they reached their corner, they noticed it was empty. Hermione and Blaise weren’t even there. Draco felt somehow cheated. He had prepared an entire speech about how Harry needed rest only to find it unneeded. Regretfully, he straightened up off of Harry’s shoulder, their ruse useless.

Harry must have felt the same because his feet hit the ground a bit more forcefully as they crossed into the men’s dormitories.

“Goodnight!” Draco called with a backward wave to Luna and Pansy before they stopped to gather their washing supplies from Harry’s room. Draco carefully placed Kai in her tank, and she immediately burrowed into a sandy corner, leaving only her bright white nostrils visible.

“Are you sure we need to wash?” Harry asked, yawning theatrically. “We could just go to bed instead.”

Draco felt a pinch to his arse and slapped Harry’s hand away.

“Just because you get off on danger doesn’t mean the rest of us do,” he responded primly. “Besides, we stink. Now, come on.”

Draco led the way to the loo, hoping no one else was taking advantage of the showers at this time. Blessedly, the men’s washroom was completely empty.

He chose the stall closest to the door, reasoning that he’d hear if someone came in easier. He opened the stall door, went past the curtain, and lined his potions along the shower wall as Harry began undressing in the small area inside their cubicle.

“You know, it isn’t the danger,” Harry said quietly as he and Draco shifted places, drawing the curtain shut behind himself. Draco heard the water start up as he toed off his shoes.

“What was that darling?” he asked absently as he sat on the small bench against the wall. He pulled off his socks before turning his attention to his shirt.

“It isn’t the danger that gets me going. It’s the fact that I lived, and that you did too,” Harry said, his voice muffled by the spray of water.

Draco hardly heard him; his entire attention had focused on his right forearm.

The once scarred and Marked skin was now again porcelain perfection, marred only by the one tiny mole that he had had his entire life.

He froze, for the most profound moment, before raising his voice. “Harry? Harry! What the fuck did you do?”

Harry crashed out of the shower, steam billowing around his calves as he looked at Draco, his wand flying wordlessly to his grasp.

“What happened?!” Harry said breathlessly, flicking soapy hair back out of his face.

“My Mark…” Draco said quietly, “The Mark is gone.”

“Er, yeah, about that,” Harry said, raising a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I wasn’t even sure it would work, so I didn’t say anything.”

“The time to say something is now, then,” Draco said. He meant for his voice to come out waspish, but instead it was wonderous as he continued to stare at his clean forearm. He raised his forefinger to trace the milky skin.

“Well, the auror had mixed your cores pretty well with whatever enchantment she had used to try and absorb yours. I had to separate you and I used Kai’s sight to do so. The Mark was Dark and so was most of her magic. I thought I might be taking the Mark from your core and putting it into her, but I didn’t think either of you would really object. And if it didn’t work, no one was worse off…” Harry trailed off, lowering a hand as though suddenly aware of his nudity.

Draco almost rolled his eyes; as if he had never seen Harry naked before.

“So, you’re saying you not only Joined with your familiar, but you also removed a piece of Dark Magic that had tied itself to my core?”

“Er, yes?”

“Wait, you didn’t touch my Bond with Tippy, right?” Draco said, suddenly worried. He felt frantically for the connection to his elf, but it had always been such an intrinsic part of him he had never been able to pinpoint it.

“I left that alone, it was way too entrenched to even try to untangle,” Harry said, “In fact, it helped me separate what was you and what was Selwyn quite a few times. Tippy’s magic is… different.”

Draco nodded absently as he looked at his arm once more, the lack of scarring almost astounding.

“I always knew you were powerful, but I thought you skated by on your luck most of the time.”

“You weren’t wrong,” Harry said with a chuckle. “It’s not like I knew how to Join with Kai before I did it.”

He looked at Harry for a moment. Harry’s untamable hair was dripping down the crease of his neck, his body hair catching bubbles here and there.

Before he realized what he was doing he had launched himself up and across the tiny cubicle, pushed Harry back, through the curtains, and into the warm spray of water. He attacked Harry’s mouth, tangling his fingers into Harry’s wet mop.

“Is there nothing you can’t do?” Draco whispered against Harry’s lips.

He tugged Harry’s wet head once more, earning an appreciative grunt, before sliding to his knees. He had to get his mouth on Harry, now. He didn’t even care when he felt water soak through his trousers.

It seemed danger, or survival, really did do it for Harry because though he wasn’t fully hard, he was well on the way as Draco rubbed his thumb along Harry’s shaft a few times. Harry made an appreciative moan above him, and he leaned forward to breathe in the musty scent of his lover.

He sucked Harry’s prick into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip. He could feel Harry leaning back against the wall and opened his eyes to see Harry staring at him as he swallowed again. Harry groaned, throwing his head back.

He felt Harry’s prick swell to full thickness on his tongue and moaned appreciatively. Harry’s breath began shortening, so he ran his hand up Harry’s thigh.

He caressed Harry’s puckered entrance a few times, Harry’s moans getting harsher.

Slowly, he pushed one finger in, just to the first knuckle, as he swallowed along Harry’s cock.

Draco used his tongue in the ways he knew would get Harry to the edge the fastest, relying on his knowledge of Harry’s body. He pushed his finger deeper, crooking it just so. He caressed Harry’s prostate worshipfully.

“Fuck, Draco,” Harry moaned helplessly above him. “You’re going to make me come.”

Draco didn’t even deign to answer, he merely sucked harder, and slipped a second finger into Harry. He scissored and stretched his fingers reflexively, as he rubbed Harry’s prostate.

“Oh, shite,” Harry groaned. Draco hummed smugly, before pulling off of Harry’s prick with a soft pop. He pumped Harry’s cock frantically with his right hand as his left continued milking Harry’s prostate.

“Yes, come, Harry, come on my face,” Draco groaned, gazing upward as he opened his mouth expectantly. Harry’s eyes were locked onto his as he felt the spongy head of Harry’s prick hit his bottom lip with every stoke of palm.

He felt the first splash of come hit him from eyelash to chin and groaned absently. The next hit his cheek and dribbled down from there. The third started on his nostril and crossed his lips, hitting his tongue as he got a small taste of Harry’s salty come.

Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and closed his lips around Harry’s prick. He kept the tip of Harry’s cock on his tongue, wanting to taste every drop. Harry’s cock throbbed a few more times, his come pulsing out weaker and weaker as his hips stilled.

Absently Draco pulled his fingers from Harry’s arse, standing up as his own cock throbbed for attention.

He mashed his lips to Harry’s, attacking his mouth relentlessly. He could feel Harry smile languorously, as he tasted his come on Draco’s tongue.

“We’re not done yet, right?” Harry asked breathlessly.

Draco didn’t deign to answer. His prick was harder than he had ever known, pushing painfully against the wet scratchy material of his pants. He undid his trousers, fighting against the material to pull them down. He kicked the soaking lump free from his ankles as soon as he could, pretending to maintain his dignity as he nearly fell over.

“We aren’t even close, darling,” Draco said roughly, as he crowded Harry back against the wall, pulling Harry’s legs up around his hips.

“Thank God,” Harry said breathily as he locked his ankles behind Draco’s waist.

He felt Harry’s arms cross behind his neck, and he mouthed at Harry’s pectoral. He found the pebbled skin and bit, sucking the skin between his teeth. He flicked the tip of Harry’s nipple with his tongue, Harry’s breath turning harsh once more.

“Gods, how I love you,” Draco whispered, lifting his face to mark Harry along his chest and then throat. He snogged Harry passionately, pouring his ferocious desire into the movement of his tongue once again.

“Lubrio,” Harry muttered in response as he waved his hand over Draco’s left palm. Draco held his hand away from the spray of the shower carefully before lowering the palmful of lube to his prick.

“Impatient, are we?” Draco teased as he wanked himself a few times. He felt Harry tightening his thighs around his waist.

Harry responded by snogging him thoroughly. He smirked into that snog, before losing himself in the fervor of it.

It was all lips and tongue and clashing teeth, and he pushed his hips up instinctually, the tip of his cock catching on the cleft of Harry’s arse.

He carefully lined himself up to breach his boyfriend, pushing upward more deliberately. Harry groaned, leaning his head back against the tile. He paused, watching Harry’s face carefully.

“No, don’t stop,” Harry moaned breathily, his eyes tightly shut.

Painstakingly, he thrust up again, focusing on Harry’s face for any signs of discomfort. Harry’s eyes were still screwed shut, but it didn’t seem like he was in pain.

“Gods, you feel so good,” Harry moaned.

Draco pushed again, more fluidly this time. Harry gasped and Draco felt the thighs around his hips tighten slightly.

He took that as a good sign and began thrusting more earnestly. He latched onto Harry’s collarbone, his throat, his nipple, leaving a litter of love bites in his wake. For what seemed ages he thrust into his boyfriend, chasing the feeling of pleasure that intensified with each push of his hips.

Harry moaned again, and Draco increased his pace. He pushed harder and deeper, feeling himself throb even close to orgasm.

“Oh, fuck, love, I’m going to come again,” Harry groaned, lowering a hand to wank himself. Draco felt the splash of Harry’s come hit his abdomen as Harry’s muscles clamped around his prick. “Dracooooo…”

Draco lost all control at the sound of Harry coming with his name on his lips, thrusting almost frantically as his orgasm bloomed in his abdomen, and he came deep in his boyfriend’s arse.

“Fuck,” Draco whispered a few moments later, finding his forehead leaning into the crook of Harry’s neck. His hips had continued to slowly shift, and he stopped himself absently.

“Mmhmm,” Harry hummed, his head lolling forward. “I don’t think I can move. You’ll need to carry me to bed.”

Draco carefully pulled himself from his boyfriend, reaching a hand behind himself to unlock Harry’s ankles from behind his back. Harry’s chest rose and fell harshly, as he struggled to find his breath. He smirked proudly as he lowered Harry’s legs one by one. He gave his lover one more slow snog before leaning against him. They stood there, arms around each other, until they had regained their breath.

“Okay there, darling?” Draco asked teasingly, as he moved away to grab his hair potion. He shook the bottle, pouring his citrusy potion into his palm before rubbing it into his scalp.

Harry hummed happily, coming up behind him and holding out a hand for ‘shampoo’, as he called it. Draco smiled as he pressed a sickle-sized drop into Harry palm.

He leaned forward to rinse his hair, before flicking it back.

“Goddamnit, love,” Harry spluttered, trading places with him. “Can you at least try not to get me in the mouth?”

“I thought you liked it when I got you in the mouth?” Draco teased as he poured the next round of potions into his palm. He rubbed the softener into his hair before attacking his body with the exfoliating scrub he preferred. Harry leaned around him to grab his cheap muggle soap, pouring it into his palm. Draco felt Harry’s strong arms enclose him and leaned back briefly.

Harry gave him a quick squeeze before they wordlessly continued their wash.

They finished silently, each absorbed in their own thoughts, before Harry turned the taps shut. Draco turned his attention onto the soggy trousers and pants that had been kicked to the corner of the stall.

He was fairly sure not even elf magic could save the fabric but cast a quick drying spell just in case. He folded the clothing into a tight square, adding it to his shirt and Harry’s lump of clothing. He refolded that with an absent flick of his wrist. He really should teach Harry how to care for his new clothes. He piled it all onto their wash basket, replacing the pajamas Harry had set out. He levitated their bottles into the basket with a practiced swirl of his wand.

“Ready for bed?” he asked as he pulled his pajamas on.

“You have no idea,” Harry responded, stretching. Tiredly, they made their way to the exit, Draco taking the basket from Harry. He flicked his wand at it and the basket began following them. With a fluid motion, he swooped Harry up, bridal-style.

“What are you doing?” Harry gasped, clutching at his neck.

“You said you needed me to carry you to bed,” Draco said with a chuckle.

“You are the soppiest, most wonderful boyfriend in the entire world,” Harry said, rubbing a thumb along Draco’s cheekbone before planting a kiss to his cheek.

He kicked open the loo door, smug in the knowledge that he, of all people, could care for Harry Bloody Potter best.

To his complete surprise Seamus and Dean were standing just outside of the loo door. They glanced at each other once, barely covering their grins.

“We told you before, Harry, don’t forget the Silencing Charm!” Seamus said with a giggle.

Harry groaned, pushing his face into Draco’s chest, as Draco felt a flush rise up his neck.

“Don’t worry, we kept everyone away,” Dean said solemnly. “And Hermione’s curse scar is covered for the night. Neither of you have a shift for the next two days.”

“Shite!” Harry said loudly, struggling out of Draco’s embrace. “I forgot about Hermione’s scar! Who’s watching her tonight?”

“Harry,” Draco warned.

“It’s Neville, Terry, and then Lisa,” Dean replied.

“I don’t know, love, maybe we should stay up. We can fill Hermione in and watch her arm at the same time.” Harry said quietly.

Draco directed a flat look at his boyfriend. “Absolutely not. We need sleep. If you sleep tonight, then maybe tomorrow you can stay up late with Hermione.”

“You’re such a liar,” Harry teased, poking him in the bicep. “We both know you aren’t going to let me stay up tomorrow night either.”

“You got me,” Draco agreed blandly, “now let’s go to bed.”

“So, you can shag him, but he can’t stay up late?” Seamus asked as Dean elbowed him.

“That was therapeutic,” Draco sniffed. Harry giggled at that, and Draco scooped him back into his arms. He took the three more steps to his room, “Shagging is good for the magical core, didn’t you know?”

“Then don’t forget the Silencing Charm in the morning!” Seamus chuckled, as he and Dean walked past them.

“No promises!” Harry replied as he tugged the door shut over Draco’s shoulder.

Draco rolled his eyes, pleased all the same. He saw their wash basket settle itself in the corner of the room as he tossed Harry on the bed.

“Plonker,” Harry muttered as he burrowed under the duvet.

“You love me,” Draco retorted, pulling Harry against him as he too settled under the aubergine blanket. Harry relaxed into his embrace easily.

“I do, very much,” Harry replied, his voice already drowsy. Draco smirked again, planting a kiss in the untamable mop of Harry’s hair.

…

The weeks before their N.E.W.T.s passed in a blur of studying. Draco wrote dutifully to his mother and his aunt, enjoining each to mend broken fences. They both sounded hopeful but unsure how to proceed. He decided that was enough to be going on with and focused once again on revising.

Even Sunday-evening-friendship-meetings were cancelled as the eighth year Common Room descended into a tight silence. The only person not revising was the one assigned to watch Hermione’s scar. Whenever someone needed a few minutes away from their notes, they would tap the shoulder of the person watching Hermione and give them a loo or tea break. It worked rather well, as no one spent too long staring and sitting still. Except Hermione, the only time she got to use the loo or stretch her legs was immediately after the potion had been changed. She even had to adapt the Bubble-Head Charm for use on her arm so she could shower without washing off the potion. Thankfully the potion now lasted about three hours before needing a reapplication so the observations were slightly relaxed.

Her search in the library and all reference books hadn’t panned out, so she was forced to endure Draco’s recommendation. How she could ignore someone watching her and randomly wiping her skin and reapplying the potion while revising for N.E.W.T.s was beyond him.

Kai was in her element, constantly slithering about the Common Room, helping keep the entire group from breaking under the immense pressure. She had told Harry, who had told Draco, that she no longer slept at night, she patrolled the two dorms, helping the lot of them with their stress-induced nightmares.

Draco had worried about when she managed to sleep, but apparently, she had enough time during classes that Harry had taken to leaving her in her tank during those hours.

She grew exponentially with all the anxiety and worry to feed on, and soon was well on her way to a meter in size. She could raise herself up enough to look Nomi in the eye now, which gave both endless amusement as they continued playing their many games.

It was not uncommon to see Kai slither purposefully toward an anxious student, only to get diverted when Nomi pounced on her tail. It didn’t affect Kai’s effectiveness and the student in question often found themselves subconsciously relaxing while watching Kai and Nomi tussle about.

Harry was instructed to leave Kai behind for the entire week of N.E.W.T.s, as her presence could give an unfair advantage over previous years’ students.

Pansy snorted at that, “As if the previous years’ dealt with the stress we face daily, let alone the past few years.”

“I’m sure that if Harry was told to keep Kai behind, there was a good reason,” Hermione said half-heartedly, as though standing up for the ministry out of habit more than conviction.

Even Blaise rolled his eyes at her, and she gave an embarrassed smile. “Look, Kai might calm us enough to get better scores than other years’, that’s all I’m trying to say.”

“But why would we need to recall subjects like Astronomy or History of Magic in high stress situations? Even Defense. The war is over, isn’t it?” Luna asked, once again surprising some with her insight.

Hermione looked flabbergasted for a moment before they all broke in somewhat hysterical giggles. Draco felt the tension in the group snap with relief.

…

The morning of N.E.W.T.s the entire eighth year was sitting anxiously at their table in the Great Hall, books and notes clustered around each plate and cup to the point that the tablecloth was entirely made of parchment. The stress could have been cut with a tea spoon.

Draco was once again astounded by Hermione’s pure intelligence as she waved off Ernie, insisting that he study for his own exams, and watched her arm with one eye while revising with the other.

The usual post flew in, annoying Draco with the distraction, until he realized that Jason had landed in front of him.

The aurors had found Jason locked up in Selwyn’s basement, a shadow of his former robust self. Draco had spent many hours nursing his owl back to health, and this was the return of Jason’s first delivery since the abduction.

He pulled the scroll from Jason’s proud leg as Harry offered his bird some bacon rinds.

Draco scanned the letter quickly before rolling it back up and tucking it into an inner pocket. He’d have to deal with that later.

“Any news?” Harry muttered; his face pinched with nerves.

“Let’s get through the exams first,” Draco responded. Harry gave him a weary look before nodding once.

“Draco!” Pansy exclaimed. Draco looked up to see Pansy pulling the Prophet from Blaise’s limp fingers. She flung the paper at him, and he quickly scanned the headline.

EX-AUROR FOUND GUILTY OF ATTEMPTED MURDER

Beneath the headline was a picture of Selwyn struggling against her restraints as she was brought before the Wizengamot.

Disgraced Ex-Auror Rose Selwyn was formally convicted of attempted murder in a vote of unanimous agreement. The rest of her charges, which included treason and abduction, were also found guilty. Her sentencing will be held next week though it is expected she will be spending at least twenty years in Azkaban.

Draco Malfoy, boyfriend to the Chosen One, was unavailable for comment but his mother replied to questions via Verified Owl Post.

“Draco and I are thrilled with the ability of the Wizengamot to find justice-“

He slapped the paper shut, not bothering to finish the article. He didn’t have the space in his brain to deal with that nonsense now.

"At least they didn’t call you a former Death Eater this time,” Blaise said bracingly as he took the paper back.

Draco rolled his eyes in response, and then went back to his Defense Against the Dark Arts notes.

He was reasonably sure he could get an Exceeds Expectations. He wouldn’t be able to cast the Patronus necessary for an Outstanding, but if he did everything else flawlessly, he could get a decent grade. He knew his acceptance to his potioneering school was contingent on good N.E.W.T. scores.

The gong sounded, signaling the end of breakfast and the start of the exams. The seventh- and eighth-year students stood and stayed at their tables, as previously instructed.

The long tables were Vanished and dozens of singular desks appeared in their stead.

Flitwick stood at the head of the Hall. “The written potion of the Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T will begin momentarily. Those not taking this written exam are excused.” A few students left the Hall quietly. “Everyone else take a seat. You all have three hours, starting now."

It all passed so quickly. Before he knew it, he was eating lunch with ink spattered fingers.

Draco couldn’t have said what he ate even ten minutes later, the food tasted so bland. Harry must have been there, but Draco kept his eyes trained to his notes, flipping through the rolls of parchment frantically.

Harry got his attention by tugging on his hand, and then they were heading as a group to the practical room set aside.

The first group was called in as a set of four, but as each student finished another was called to take their place.

A few minutes after Ernie Macmillian was called, Draco heard his name announced. He stood up, swirling his wand to condense his notes into a tiny roll that darted itself into an innermost pocket.

He went through the standard spells rigidly. Embedding a shield charm into a pair of mittens was especially easy and brought a small smile to his lips.

He was still smiling at the gloves when the examiner asked him to cast a Patronus Charm. He felt the smile try to slide from his face and held it with a fixed determination.

Instead of worrying about the fact that he hadn’t cast a Patronus yet, he rolled up his sleeves, noticing absently as the examiner glanced at his unMarked arms.

He thought of Harry. When he had opened his Valentine’s gift and inside was the brown cuff he was currently wearing.

Harry had looked so excited to see him open the gift, his emerald eyes shining. A few more memories flicked through his mind.

Harry was seated at the desk in his room, the setting sun making his black curls glow golden.

Harry was beneath him, moaning his name as he shook with the force of his orgasm.

Harry was smiling as he demonstrated the correct way to hold a wand for some first years.

Harry was lounging on the sofa, hold Kai and softly hissing at her.

Harry was sleeping, his face slack and a small dribble of drool bubbling in the corner of his mouth.

A million moments flashed though his mind, all of them centered around his boyfriend. He let the feeling of joy fill him, letting it overflow from his core to his wand.

“Expecto Patronum,” Draco whispered. Out of his wand shot a huge billowing cloud, which coalesced into… a silvery swan. The handsome swan flew through the air, circling the head of the examiner. The other students all looked up.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” Harry shouted joyfully from the corner, where he had been testing, unseen by Draco. Another swan dove toward his own.

Draco’s swan had a longer neck, and Harry’s a deeper chest. It was clear they were different birds, and Draco was relieved that his wasn’t a mirror of Harry’s, as that was a sign of an unhealthy obsession. The two swans twined necks before settling into a stately swim above their heads.

The examiners struggled to regain the attention of the other two students, who were wolf-whistling and blowing kisses at the two of them.

Draco blushed, ducking his face. His swan flickered before fading away completely.

“Very well, Mister Malfoy, you are excused,” said his examiner.

“Wait, really? Harry isn’t done though,” Draco asked in confusion.

“I imagine his examiner is taking the chance to see his magic up close,” the elderly witch said conspiratorially.

Draco tried not to bristle at that. Harry didn’t need to be expending excess magical energy for the amusement of some supercilious test proctor.

“Off you pop,” the witch said. Draco hadn’t heard that expression since his barrister from his own trial and it made him freeze. He looked up from his respectful bow.

She didn’t seem to notice and waved her wand to signal her preparedness to take another student.

“Thank you for your time,” Draco said as he straightened. She nodded absently at him, her eyes thoughtful and he crossed to the exit feeling her gaze light on his neck.

After dinner everyone was sitting in the Common Room vacantly. Only Terry Boot and Hermione seemed to have the energy to continue studying.

“I feel like a wrung towel,” Pansy complained as she ran her fingers through Luna’s hair. Luna had fallen asleep with her head in Pansy’s lap some minutes ago and was now softly snoring. If her gentle expression was anything to judge by, Pansy didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Are you going to tell me what was in that letter?” Harry asked drowsily from his own pillow on Draco’s shoulder.

Draco had leaned back into the sofa, and he was barely awake when Harry’s words penetrated his sleepy skull.

“Hermione,” he replied sleepily.

“The letter said Hermione?” Harry asked stupidly.

“No, it was about Hermione,” Draco said, his eyes opening as he slowly came out of the post-exam fog. “Well, her parents really.”

“What about my parents?” Hermione asked, her bloodshot eyes swiveling up from the stack of notes she had been staring at.

“I wrote Master Sari, just before our research hit a dead end,” Draco said, shifting guiltily. It was true, he, Hermione, and Luna had spent many a late night in the library tracking down all kinds of Healing magic. From Potions, to Creatures, to Enchantments, the three of them had each focused on their particular branch and where they might intersect. Nothing had been found. Eventually Hermione had quietly asked them to stop, before leaving the room to go to bed early.

He and Luna had honored her wish, dropping the reference books and topic overnight. Harry had been conflicted, worried for his best friend but happy to have the attentions of his boyfriend back. At least, until he had realized that Draco was intending to spend almost every waking minute studying for the N.E.W.T.s.

Draco didn’t say anything, as he had sent the letter off the previous day. He assumed that Master Sari wouldn’t even deign to answer him and so hadn’t informed Hermione of his attempt.

“I thought I asked you to quit that nonsense,” Hermione said with a snap. “Honestly, Draco, I don’t have the time to listen to another person tell me it’s a lost cause. I just… I need to get back to my Arithmancy notes, okay?”

“But… She says she can help,” Draco said softly, pulling the scroll from his sleeve.

“You waited till after the exam to tell her?” Blaise asked angrily, as Hermione snatched the scroll from his fingers. She read it quick as a flash, and then clearly went back to read it again, more slowly this time.

“Draco,” she whispered. “Do you think this could cure them?”

“That is Master Sari’s opinion, yes,” Draco said, dodging Blaise’s gaze.

“Can you brew it?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

“Well, yes,” Draco said hesitantly, considering the potion he had read. “But I’d need a couple hours, a lot of expensive supplies, a crystal cauldron, and at least one competent helper. Once the exams are over, it’ll be my top priority.”

Hermione looked at him for one long minute before standing. Padma, who had been focusing on Hermione’s arm to the exclusion of all else, squawked in surprise.

“Yes, you’ll need to come with me,” Hermione said as she absently rolled the parchment back up. She strode from the room without a backward glance, Padma on her heels, clutching the jug of curative potion.

“What was that about,” Luna asked groggily, having woken up halfway through the exchange.

“I have no idea, sweetie,” Pansy replied, darting a quick look at Blaise. He shrugged his shoulders.

“She’s probably getting you exempt from your N.E.W.T.s so you can brew her potion,” Blaise said with a laugh.

They all joined in, in an exhausted way.

Draco hoped that wasn’t the case, he could only imagine the headlines if the papers found out he was excused from his N.E.W.T.s. He had to do this on his own.

Two days later, after an uneventful day of History, trying to recall the years of the Centaur Revolt and the Vampiric Accords, he was in the Potions dungeon, anxiously counting and caressing his stirring rods.

The proctor walked in. It was the same ancient witch that had tested him in Defense. She gave him a brief searching look, before passing out instructions to each student.

Draco took his, not even surprised when it was the instructions for the potion to help Hermione’s parents. He sighed gustily. Bloody Hermione. He looked over at her and caught her eye as she ducked her head. He rolled his eyes.

“What are we brewing?” Harry asked from his elbow.

“We?” Draco asked absently, cataloguing in his mind all the things he needed to do first.

“Yeah, my assignment is to help you,” Harry replied, holding up his parchment. Well, that might actually help things. At least his boyfriend could be trusted to follow direction.

He adjusted a few things in his mind. “Will you get the supplies from the cupboard?” He handed the list to Harry. Harry took it and disappeared. He lined up his stirring rods and pulled out a cutting board and silver knife. The proctor came by and dropped off a crystal cauldron.

“I believe you’ll need this,” the old witch said.

“Thank you,” Draco said softly. Harry arrived with an armload of supplies. “Perfect, set it all down here.”

He set Harry to dicing and slicing as he lit the fire under the cauldron.

They worked in almost silence. Harry knew him so well that he merely had to hold out his hand and Harry handed him the next ingredient. He watched the cauldron obsessively, searching as the liquid cast a prism of color across the cauldron.

The rest of the room fell away as he became fully engrossed in his task. He didn’t notice the other students, he didn’t hear their stirring, he didn’t see their movements. His entire world had focused on his cauldron and the softly bubbling potion within.

“Don’t breathe in the fumes just now, darling,” he warned absently as he took the sprig of wiggentree from Harry. He stirred the potion steadily, then when it changed color to vibrant blue, he held out his hand for the pixie wings. He sprinkled them in, and the potion turned the exact shade of Harry’s eyes.

He stopped.

“It’s done,” Draco whispered. Harry came to stand next to him as he cast a Shield Charm over the potion. Not even dust could be allowed to enter the cauldron. Beside him, Harry waved a hand to beckon over the proctor.

“Very well, Mister Potter, Mister Malfoy. This shall be examined and your grades sent to you in the next few weeks,” the ancient witch said as she siphoned off the potion into multiple vials. “Of course, Mister Potter, as you agreed to be second hand on the potion, your mark shall reflect that.”

“What’s this?” Draco asked, his head coming up.

“I agreed to receive a lesser mark, as I wouldn’t be brewing my own potion. It’s fine, love,” Harry said quietly. “It’s for Hermione."

Draco frowned. He opened his mouth to defend his boyfriend, but Harry tugged on his hand. “For Hermione. She deserves some happiness after the war.”

He sighed deeply, and then, nodding at the proctor, quit the room. He heard Harry follow him and slowed his steps in the corridor outside the classroom.

There was no one else around, as they had finished their potion last. “You do too much for others, and not enough for yourself.”

“I do plenty for myself,” Harry said laughingly. “Besides, I don’t need a perfect Potions N.E.W.T. Gwilt said she doesn’t care what my marks are.”

“You’re a terrible liar,” Draco said, prodding Harry in the side. “You’d never study with someone that didn’t care if you pushed yourself.”

Harry laughed. “True enough, but even if I failed my N.E.W.T. I don’t think she would mind.”

…

The next few days passed in a whirlwind of test taking and packing in anticipation of his move to Grimmauld Place.

A thrill of anticipation was in the air as the eighth years began preparing for their places in the adult world.

A war had ravaged them, taking many from their midst, but they had survived, somehow. Through a combination of skill and luck, the sixteen of them were alive. The shadows of lost friends and family were felt by all as they prepared for their last day at Hogwarts.

The day itself dawned bright and warm, with people dashing back and forth from the dorms as they remembered toiletries or posters stuck to the walls. Eventually they all wound up in the Common Room. Draco noticed Hermione shake off Blaise’s hand and stopped his meticulous counting of his luggage. Tippy would check it all for him when they arrived at Grimmauld anyway.

“I think we should all take a moment,” Hermione said, clearing her throat. Everyone stopped their frantic movements and waving of wands. “Let us remember the fallen. Friend and foe alike, many have died to give us this chance that we now have.”

A brief silence fell across the room.

“Thank you, all,” Hermione said, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for helping with my scar, thank you for coming back to Hogwarts, and above all, thank you for surviving.” She said the last bit with an eye cast over the former Slytherins. Draco felt himself flush.

He had never meant to survive. In fact, there were times he was certain he was going to die. But as he looked over at Harry, who was absently holding Kai to his shoulder, he rejoiced.

As long as he had Harry, the entire war was worth it.