This is the last chapter. It may not be – and most likely is not –what you expected it to be, but it unfolded this way. Perhaps I have lost you as readers now, but that is the way things go. Either way, thank you all for riding this one out and for posting so loyally. I noticed quite a few of you were there from the beginning. So thanks a million and do leave that very last review (if only to tell me I let you down). Again, thanks for all the nice criticism and reactions I've received. I appreciate them immensely.

Love,

~ Anvan

Some things will never change.

That was more or less Harry's only thought as he carefully landed the broom on Malfoy Manor grounds, with Draco's warm body behind him, the suitcase hovering close by. When looking over his shoulder, the Gryffindor saw his friend, leaning into his shoulder, eyes with dark circles under them closed tightly. Perhaps some things do change, he thought, and as he turned to look at the manor, he knew they did. In another era, he would not have stepped foot on these grounds with good intentions.

The man behind Harry did not stir. Gently, Harry twisted his torso to get a better look at Draco. For a few seconds, he seized the opportunity to appreciate the view, regardless how battered Draco looked, before putting a hand against the pale cheek.

"Drake?"

Silver eyes opened instantly, focussing intensely on Harry's face. It was still appalling for the Gryffindor to feel his heart lurch at seeing Draco's reaction, as if it had been missing this someone for way too long. Harry snorted mentally, dismissing that romantic thought. There was no way in hell that Draco and he could have been anything else but enemies in the Voldemort era. His heart had never longed for Draco, until recently. Perhaps a bit less recent than Harry could pinpoint, but that mattered little. Unsure if he could trust his voice, Harry coughed once before talking again.

"We're here."

Nodding, Draco stepped off the broom with surprising elegance. The doors to the manor swung open as they approached in silence, Harry walking quite close to Draco. It took Harry a few seconds to realise Draco was whispering lowly, his voice nothing but a caress to the Gryffindor's ears, and the manor seemed to come to life. Windows all over the manor opened, sending a strong wind through the halls and rooms, carrying with it the heavy scent of the flowers in the garden. The moon threw enough light inside, drowning everything in a pale light, shadows dancing on the walls, ceiling and floor. Harry took a breath or two as he watched Draco walk up the marble stairs.

He knew where they would end up.

Unconsciously he lowered the suitcase somewhere in the hallway, as he silently followed Draco up the stairs. His footsteps seemed too loud, the soft whistle of the wind and Draco's gentle steps the only other sound. Next thing he noticed, taking off his shoes at the top of the stairs, was how soft the ground upstairs felt. Draco stopped for a few seconds at the bedroom door - the room with the mirror against the ceiling, Harry thought bemused – to look at Harry. A vague thought told the Gryffindor that his friend was being a bit theatrical, catching the moonlight perfectly on his profile, before moving again, but he liked the view too much to care. Walking a bit faster, Harry allowed his hand to slide over the wall, until the wall vanished, telling him he had arrived at the door.

He looked inside the room, finding Draco, his shoulders now slumped forward, standing next to the bed and looking extremely helpless. For some reason, Harry's mind insisted on distraction, on a scared kind of hope of what was to follow, but his common sense told him to wrap his arms around the Slytherin and allow him to sleep. Recover. Gain energy.

For days to come.

A rueful smirk tugged at the corner of Harry's mouth, when he walked up to Draco and stopped a hand's length away.

"I thought you were hungry?" he asked softly, touching Draco's hand.

Silver eyes, dark circles set off harshly against his pale skin, looked up and the Slytherin just shook his head. Wordlessly Harry pulled back the soft sheets on the bed to which Draco immediately reacted by sitting down on the mattress. Murmuring gently to his friend, the Gryffindor helped Draco out of his clothes, eyes roaming throughout the process. Despite being exhausted, the Slytherin noticed Harry's looks with great pleasure, cursing his condition.

Was he truly to waste the first night like this?

The question could have come from either one of them at one point, watching each other, searching eyes, reading expressions, reactions and hoping to read something that tells you everything is right the way it is. That this moment was without shame, regret or doubt.

Draco – dressed in his pyjama bottoms – finally dug himself into the mattress with a deep sigh, turning to his side and fighting with every last ounce of strength he had to keep his eyes open. Open to watch Harry change. The Gryffindor's face briefly contorted a bit self-consciously when he noticed the silver eyes, glittering contently and not leaving his body. Typically, Harry realised he had no pyjamas of his own until he was standing in his boxers and after blinking helplessly a few times, flashing a half-hearted glare at a snickering Draco, headed for the closet to put on one of Draco's.

That feeling of fatigue, of utter spent-ness came over Harry, when he gingerly crawled onto the bed and literally had a way to go to reach Draco. The Slytherin now turned around onto his back, creating an opening in the sheets, which – to Harry – looked like an extremely appealing and comfortable nest right now. With a sigh the Gryffindor slipped under the sheets next to Draco.

There was no question how they would sleep, Harry thought, as he put two pillows on top of each other and pushed his back into them, opening his arms to Draco. Something in the Gryffindor's face must have told Draco the same, for he obliged without any protest, snuggling into the warmth of Harry's body. Harry could not help but take in Draco's scent, nuzzling into the man's hair, before wrapping his arms around him comfortably, entangling legs lazily and taking a content breath.

Within seconds both men were asleep.

They had a lifetime awaiting them.