Two Weeks Later

Despite his desire to storm the Malfoy Manor and force Draco to speak with him, Harry had left him alone. He'd been informed by Kingsley that Emily Anderson had filled out all the paperwork for taking Draco under her tutor and of course, the Prophet picked up the story quickly. Mrs. Anderson had a way with words in the interview which left little doubt that she cared nothing about a long ago war and praised Draco's potions ability warmly. Draco hadn't made an appearance in public so Harry didn't even know if this new change made him happy. He hoped it had, even if he was miserable without him. The Floo sparked to life and Harry looked up excitedly, only to drop his head back down when Ron and Hermione stepped through. "Morning Harry," Ron said as he slid into a seat at the table.

Hermione gathered his empty tea cup and headed over to the stove to start a new kettle. "You need to send Daisy to the flat, it's gotten a bit dusty."

Harry shrugged and laid his head on the table. He didn't want to deal with the two of them today. "So…want to let us know what's got you all upset?" Ron took the cup of tea with a smile for Hermione.

Hermione slid Harry's mug back towards him and sat opposite Ron at the table with her own mug of tea. "It's Malfoy, isn't it?"

Harry sighed and raised his head from the table. "You two don't have to pretend you care."

"Of course we care mate," Ron stated. "You are our best friend. I know that I was hard on him but that was mostly just the shock of seeing him again. And after you told us what happened with him, Hermione and I agreed that we might not like the ferret, but you are our best friend always. And if you need to talk about anything, we are always here."

Harry felt bad the minute Ron finished talking. He hadn't put enough faith in his friend's ability to care for him. "You are right and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you guys."

Hermione patted his hand, "We know that it's not easy talking about things. Is it easier with Malfoy?"

"It is," Harry admitted. "Not because I don't want to talk to you guy, or because I think you'll judge me or something. It's just…different."

"Do you like him?" Ron's face got a bit red and his eyes followed the grain of the wooden table.

"As a person, yeah," Harry acknowledged. "I don't know if there is something more there. Not that it matters now."

"Well, I wouldn't be quite so sure about that," Hermione proclaimed. "I saw Malfoy the other day at Anderson's. He looked happy…but like something was missing. And he practically sprained his neck eavesdropping on my conversation with Emily. I think he was hoping for some information about you. So, you want to tell us what happened?"

Harry groaned, "He let something slip about being gay and I told him I already knew. He got furious, I hadn't seen him that angry since school, and he asked me how I knew. So I had to admit about the map and following him during 6th year. And I might have told him that it would be hypocritical of me to judge him for it. Then he was just gone."

Hermione and Ron shared a look, "Well," Hermione faltered, "maybe he fancies you."

"What? You've lost it."

"Not really mate," Ron added.

"Let's look at the facts," Hermione exclaimed. "First, we know that you are an attractive man."

Ron rolled his eyes at his wife. "It's all the birds talk about in the tea room. Harry's so dreamy, Harry's so fit, Harry's eyes are so green," he griped. "And of course, you saved his life twice."

"Not to mention that you are the first person, not just to offer him friendship, but to take a real interest in his life and well-being," Hermione said.

"So maybe he is just embarrassed that you knew something about him that he didn't want you to know," Ron said, "Or got to close to finding out that he fancies you."

Harry didn't respond right away, instead he mulled over what they'd said. If it was true, and Draco did fancy Harry, why hadn't he said anything about it? He asked as much to Ron and Hermione.

"Well that's easy to answer," Ron quipped. "He doesn't want to lose you."

Hermione smiled brightly at her husband, "That's very insightful of you Ron. And completely on the nose, put yourself in Draco's shoes. Until you told him you were gay, he only had the Prophet gossip and your largely public all female past to go on. And it is obvious by the way things escalated that it wasn't the most comfortable way to come out to each other. So, he probably left because he figured that you knowing he was gay might lead to you knowing about his crush on you and then you'd walk away from your friendship."

"But that's what he did," Harry yelled. "I haven't seen or heard from him in weeks."

"You should give him some time mate," Ron said. "He's a proud bloke if nothing else and he's likely to be licking his wounds and beating himself up enough on his own."

Hermione smiled, "I agree. You should give him some personal space, but maybe write a letter. You didn't answer Ron though, do you fancy him too?"

Harry didn't know the answer to that question and when his two friends left, he was even more confused then he'd been before.

-x-

Draco felt like pulling his hair out. His mother was waiting outside his door as he was on his way out to Emily's. "Good morning son."

"Mother," Draco drawled. "Have you been spying on me? Or simply resulted to stalking me?"

"I wouldn't have to stalk you," Narcissa huffed, "if you would just talk to me."

"About what Mother," Draco asked as they descended the steps?

Narcissa groaned, "I've raised an impossible and ungrateful child. I want to talk about Harry."

"That's interesting because I certainly don't," Draco responded casually. Inside, his stomach turned to knots at the thought of Harry bloody Potter. He'd managed to get by the past few weeks by focusing on everything else. He'd started training with Emily, who was delightful and intelligent, and most of his free time was spent studying just to keep her impressed. He appreciated the things she'd said to the paper in his defense and wanted to prove that she hadn't made a mistake taking him on. Even though he didn't need the money, he started working at the store to help Emily out and allow her the free time to wonder about London and sightsee. She came back from her afternoon trips with bright eyes and pictures that they'd started putting in an album for her. He also worried over nothing because it turned out that Emily was simply a flirt as well and had keep things strictly professional, if not a little friendly, between the two of them. It had made it easier to put all thoughts of Harry behind him while he was busy with the store and his training but at night he had to face them. "I've got to go mother."

Narcissa drew her wand and a shimmery dome fell over Draco. He recognized it as his time out dome from when he was a child and he turned to glare at her. "Wonderful, I have your attention. Now, I'm aware that Mrs. Anderson doesn't expect you in until 9, which means that you are nearly an hour early. Either you've begun an affair with this woman, highly unlikely given your proclivities, or you've been actively avoiding me."

"You cannot put me in time out Mother, I am a grown adult."

"I shall if you continue to act like a child," she responded. "Now, have you had some kind of falling out with Mr. Potter?"

"No," Draco hissed, "let me out of here."

Narcissa groaned and flicked her wand, bringing the barrier down. "You are hopeless."

"So I've been told," Draco sneered and Disapparated away. He felt bad, arguing with his mother, and it affected his mood the whole day. Emily had been understanding, going into a long conversation about her own mother that helped Draco keep his mind off everything that was currently going top side up in his own life. His day was long and hard so that when he finally did go back home, he was more than exhausted. His mother had already retired for the night, an elf informed him, and a letter had arrived for him during dinner. Draco asked for a few sandwiches and headed up to his room with the letter. He recognized the messy handwriting instantly. Harry. He tore open the letter and begin to read.

Dear Draco,

Hi. I'm even less sure how to start this letter than I was the one before. I doubt a few well placed cheeky comments and worry for my elf's well-being will be enough this time. Although, Kreacher is quite miffed at me and refuses to allow anyone to make Treacle Tart (my favorite) until I've begged for your total and absolute forgiveness. I'd be afraid of him leaving me if I didn't know for a fact that the little bugger is fond of me.

I've gotten off point again. I want to apologize but I'm not sure what for. I don't care that you are bent and I'd hoped that you wouldn't care that I am as well, but I don't think that's why you've stopped coming around. I should, however, take the time to apologize for spying on you in 6th year. Of course, you were actually up to something but that wasn't an excuse to violate your privacy like that.

I spoke with Ron and Hermione, which was a bit of a shock to tell you the truth. They've been far more understanding about our friendship than I had anticipated and I owed them an apology for not recognizing that. Neither one are anywhere close to actually having a conversation with you, but they've both been supportive of my choices.

To tell you the truth, I'm glad you let it slip. I feel like I know so little about you and I guess that's mostly my fault. I've spent most of our time fixing your problems or spilling my secrets, I've not given you the time to talk with me. Not that you have to, I know you are a private person and I can respect that. But…I would hope that you know that you could talk with me about anything. I'd never judge you and I'd never tell a soul. I'd swear it on my magic if you asked me to. I've spent a lot of time these past few weeks thinking about things and I want you to know that your friendship…it means more to me than you can imagine. I'm not sure how to explain it that doesn't sound…well a bit mad I suppose. But I should explain it the best way I can because you at least deserve that much.

The night I found you in the alley, I was sneaking away from Seamus' stag do. To tell the truth, it was pretty amazing that I had even shown up. Ron only got me to go because I'd been skipping out on all the social shit for months. I was just sick of everything. I know it sounds ungrateful and arrogant, but being famous isn't all that. I was sick of being followed, sick of the Prophet hounding me, and sick of everyone's expectations of me. But mostly, I was sick of the way everything seemed…easy, I guess you could say. When I saw you, I remembered that you didn't have it easy and it wasn't fair. What right did I have to be fawned over and praised while you suffered? I knew, even if no one else cared, what it had been like for you living through the war. And when you had that nightmare, it just confirmed everything. You were scared, the same way I was scared. I faced the idea of my death for years and people alway commented on how brave I was. But you did the same thing and they jumped to vilify you. That Mark on your arm, it doesn't define who you are. What we do, the choices we make, that defines us. And you…Draco Malfoy, you lowered your wand. Yes, you did some pretty awful things and you said some terrible stuff. I'm not stupid, I know that you believed them when you said them. But I also know that Dumbledore was offering you a way out and you lowered your wand. You wanted that chance and you would have taken it, if Snape and the Death Eaters hadn't interfered.

I'll admit that until I saw you that alley, I hadn't really thought about you. And for that, I owe you an apology. If I am the hero they claim me to be, I should have spent more time remembering that there were more victims than just us. But to tell you the truth, I don't think I would have been successful any earlier. When the war was over, the wounds were still so fresh that it would have been hard to press people the way I've been pressing them now. Despite that, it wasn't fair for you to have to live the way you did for so long. I can only move forward and hope that you accept my apologies.

I didn't lie, you are different. Not just that you are a different kind of person than you used to be, but you are a different sort of person than most. I can't really explain how…I just get this feeling. I also understand you in the same way that I think you understand me, which helps me trust you in a way that I don't think I'd be able to trust anyone else. No one else could have sat on those steps and listened to me talk about how much I wanted to walk through that Veil and join them. I never even told Ron and Hermione about using the stone. I don't think they would have understood and I never told them I went back for it. But you listened and you didn't try to trivialize my pain or explain it away. You just…understood.

I had hoped that you might start to feel the same of me. That you'd want to share your past and your secrets with me. I had hoped you would learn to trust me the way I've come to trust you. I know that I can't force someone into that and obviously by your reaction to your little slip, it isn't the case with you. I understand how it must feel for you. I could understand you being wary, afraid that it might all be game to me. I can understand the internal struggle that must still reside inside you, the part of you that your father raised and groomed and the man you are trying to become. I know all about fighting against a darkness that no one would understand. I know that it'd be easier to give in and that every day is a fight just to be the person you want to be, rather than the weapon they forged us into. And I can understand if I am not the person you need.

Hermione and Ron say that you need space and I'll give it. Please know that my home is always open for you and I'm here…whenever or if you are ever ready.

Yours,

Harry James Potter

P.S. Congratulations on getting Emily to train you. You will be an amazing Potions Master. Snape would be proud.

The letter fluttered to the bed, "Fuck." Harry couldn't make anything easy, not even when Draco walked away. The words in that letter caused the knot in his stomach to tighten, the same knot he got every time Harry smiled at him. He was well and truly fucked now.