Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Any recognisable characters, spells, places and story line belong to J.K Rowling and her associates. I am not making any money out of this. All the titles except "mine" are from Pink Floyd songs (again, they don't belong to me...)

WARNING: For the whole story: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, slash, drug use, bi-sexuality (don't know if it's really a warning, are people bothered by this?), angst, a bit of violence and WAFF (couldn't help myself...)
For this chapter: Explicit language, a bit of violence, angst (and a man crying much more than I would think normal in real life but what can I say... I'm hopeless.)

A/N: This chapter and the next are very long... the longest I have ever written and I am afraid they are a bit boring. I loved writing them but perhaps reading will be harder. Please forgive me, this is the first time I have done a multi-chapter fic. As always, please review and let me know if you spot any spelling mistakes or grammar mistakes that I missed. If anyone is interested in being beta for this fic, please let me know.

I received a review from Cassandra offering to do this but I have no way to contact her, so please Cassandra, if you are reading this, I am very interested in you offer, can you send me a mail?

Mine

By

Denebola Eltanin Black

Part 2: Two Suns in the Sunset

Chapter 1: Keep Talking

Harry was looking out the enormous windows in Grimmauld Place's drawing room remembering the last few months. He had spent the last two months completely redoing the house. Or more like he had declared war against the house and won it after hundreds of bloody battles. It had all started that 12th of august he had been forcefully Apparated out of Malfoy Manor with all his clothes in his arms. He had tried to get back in again but the wards turned menacingly on him, Dark magic whispering all sorts of tortures he would be getting if he dared to enter. He dressed and went home, trying to talk to Draco through the floo only to find it closed to him. His owls returned with the envelopes untouched.

He knew he could always try to contact Draco through his mother. Narcissa had made a habit out of fire-calling him every week or so since the beginning of the summer. He didn't know if it was because she knew what her son and Harry did most of their time or if she was sincerely interested in his life but he had found a rather unlikely conversation partner in her. She never mentioned Draco except to tell Harry about some event in her life that concerned him and she was never too pushy to get information from him. She was always calm and they simply made unimportant small talk for fifteen minutes or half an hour. He liked her; she never expected anything from him at all. He had never really told Draco this, just that his mother had called him once and even that Draco seemed to dislike. Draco always kept him away from his mother and Harry respected that. He wouldn't say anything to Mrs Malfoy about their "relationship".

On the night of the 12th Hermione came to Grimmauld Place with her eyes shining with rage and disappointment.

"How could you Harry? How cold you do that to her?" She demanded to know, her hair was more unruly than ever and Harry had the image of an enraged Medusa, he was almost afraid of looking at her but he forced those silly thoughts out of his mind and called upon his Gryffindor courage to help him.

But what could he say? He had known all along he was hurting Ginny, he had known all along he was in love with Draco Malfoy and he was just using Ginny to have a family. He thought he cared about Ginny but now that he looked at it objectively it was plain that he didn't care enough for her to even explain what happened. What a bastard!

"Harry! Why didn't you go?" Harry sighed, he had no idea what to tell her. Should he tell the truth? Hermione would probably forgive him after a while but he didn't know if he could tell her. The guilt was too overwhelming, the pain of Draco's rejection too fresh. His eyes were full of tears before he could stop them. He tried to breath to will them away.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Please Hermione, just shut up.

"I fucked up…" he whispered and he knew it meant a lot more to him than to her, yes he felt like shit for hurting Ginny but it paled in comparison to the guilt he felt for having brought Draco close to tears.

"Yes, you did. I won't deny that. But Ginny is willing to forgive you if you apologise to her. Everything going to be all right in the end, you two love each other. Please Harry, tell me what happened." Her rage had apparently morphed temporarily into pity, Harry didn't know which was worst. He tried to open his mouth to say something, anything, but the words didn't come out. He went to the drawing room simply because he needed to walk. Hermione followed him looking worried. "You know she will forgive you right?"

Harry shook his head to tell her to shut up, to say that he didn't really want Ginny's forgiveness or at least not in that way. The thought of having to go back to her made him shiver. How could he have stayed with her so long? What kind of a person has a back up girlfriend just in case his real love doesn't work? He was sick! And now he had lost Draco and he didn't even understand why. What had changed the day before? Why couldn't Draco see him anymore? What had he done to make him cry? He had to be really sick to hurt the one person he cared the most about.

Hermione was talking, he had the feeling she had been talking for a while, repeating that Ginny would forgive him, that they belonged together and Harry felt the nausea hit him. He was disgusted with himself. He had deceived his best friend so well she didn't knew him at all anymore. He had been an awful friend, a real jerk, a bastard as a boyfriend and he had made Draco cry. He ran to the guest's loo that was the closest to the drawing room and emptied his stomach on the tiles unable to reach the toilet in time. His throat burned and his eyes watered.

"Harry! Are you OK? Do you want to go to St. Mungo's?" Harry shook his head, there was no cure for his decease. He took out his wand, cleaned the mess on the tiles and rinsed his mouth and face. Hermione just didn't stop talking. It seemed she was under the impression he had missed the party because he was sick and that made him feel even worst. He deserved to be hated by her. He went back to the drawing room hoping she would get the idea of using the floo and leave him alone. She didn't. She talked and cried and tried to make him talk but he just couldn't answer. He sat there facing the fire completely overwhelmed with hatred and disgust for himself. He missed Draco so much, it was like every cell of his body was pulling him towards the blond, there was no way to reach him but his body didn't seem to understand that.

The fire suddenly turned green and Hermione stopped talking. A second later Mrs. Malfoy's head appeared in the fireplace. She looked up at him and Hermione started talking again, demanding to know what she was doing there. He registered her eyes widening and as a flash he saw Draco's doing the same thing. He shook his head a little to hold back the tears that where desperate to come out and sat in front of her trying to gather enough breath and courage to speak. He respected her a great deal and he really didn't want to be impolite to her. But all he could see was how similar the shape of her lips was to Draco's and how her skin was the exact same shade as his. His tears ran out and he could do nothing to stop them. He heard a soft "Oh my…" and he tried to get away from the fireplace. It took him all the strength he had in him to say:

"I– I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy. I don't think I am the best co–company right now." In between sobs. Hermione had gone quiet in shock. . He was trying to hide his face from them. How embarrassing could this get? "Per–Perhaps later?" He was hoping she would cut the firecall quickly. But images of Draco were flooding his head now the dam was broken and nothing could stop them. He fell on his butt and broke down completely. Sobs racked his body and tears ran down his cheeks. Why? Why had Draco pushed him away so suddenly? What had he done wrong? Was it something he did? Something he said? Was he no longer good enough even to get a little piece of Draco?

He was suddenly enveloped in a warm embrace. A sweet smell filled his nostrils and soft silk caressed his arms and face. His forehead was pressed against something cool: her sapphire necklace. It wasn't Hermione holding him, it was Mrs. Malfoy. He didn't try to see Hermione's face. As he tremblingly closed his arms around her waist for support he felt the softness of her long wavy hair. It was something he had never felt, not even with Mrs. Weasley. He felt the strangest surge of possessiveness towards Mrs. Malfoy. Like all this little details that made her were there for him and only for him just for that moment. But it wasn't sexual at all and for a moment he was completely baffled as to what on earth could cause that feeling until it occurred to him that just for that one moment it felt like his mother was holding him. He held her tighter and cried his heart out, seeking comfort in her beauty, in her scent, in her softness and the love she was giving him so freely.

He didn't know how long he stayed there crying but eventually he fell asleep in her arms.

Hermione looked warily at Narcissa Malfoy as the perfectly elegant woman searched all the cabinets in the kitchen for cups. Of course, Hermione knew very well Harry had placed them in the cabinet next the door but she wasn't going to make it easier on the woman who had watched as she was tortured.

"What exactly are you doing here Mrs. Malfoy?" she burst out unable to keep her questions in anymore. Harry had been so completely unresponsive and she was dying to get some answers even if it wasn't to the main questions.

"I am making some tea for Harry. He seems to need it." Hermione wanted to hit her but instead she asked:

"Since when do you call him 'Harry'?"

"I've called him Harry a few times in the last few months."

"What makes you think you are welcomed here?" Mrs. Malfoy finally turned sharply to look at her. Her face was contorted in disgust. There thought Hermione that's your true face. Mrs. Malfoy seemed to be counting to ten and her face softened.

"Firstly I have to inform you that this is the house where I grew up and considering who your parents are I think it is safe to assume I more welcomed here than you." Her voice was hard and cold at the end but Hermione didn't back down. She was frustrated with Harry and with this whole thing she couldn't understand.

"This is Harry's house now, he decides who's welcomed and who's not. Who lived in this house before doesn't matter." Mrs. Malfoy snorted and looked disdainfully at Hermione.

"In that statement you have revealed how little you know about wizarding traditions and about your friend."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" snarled the fuzzy-haired girl. Narcissa sighed.

"Harry and I have kept in contact since he left school. I am forever grateful because he saved the life of my son and I am here taking care of him because I have come to appreciate him and I noticed his friends don't seem to realise he needs time to process whatever it is that happened." Hermione stared in shock as the words sunk into her brain. It was true, Harry obviously needed some space and all she did was demand answers. "As for the wizarding traditions I suggest you look for books that explains place magic which is something that every pureblood child of six knows but that isn't taught at Hogwarts because Dumbledore banned it in his irrational hatred of pureblood traditions. Now, where are the cups?"

He woke up at the smell of tea and knew he had been sleeping for at least an hour. He was still in the drawing room, on the couch with a fluffy and comfortable blanket surrounding him. He sat up as he saw Mrs. Malfoy approaching with a tray in her hands with three cups of hot tea and biscuits. It looked out of place in her arms. She was there, probably the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, dressed in the most expensive blue silk robes with a big sapphire on her throat, silver high heels, silver diadem holding some of her hair up on the back of her head and the rest of it falling in waves down her back, silver and white-gold rings on her fingers and just overall completely flawless. She was there on the musky drawing room with rotting curtains, a couch that looked as if a werewolf had attacked it, a low table of dark wood with deep scars of whatever spells had hit it. And she had a silver platter on her hands, like that was a normal thing for her to have and her face showed nothing but kindness. It was so much contrast Harry couldn't help but smile even if every movement, every look reminded him of Draco.

She smiled back and sat with a lot of decorum next to him on the old couch, setting the tray on the table. Without a word she handed him a cup of tea and took her own sipping a little before putting it back. Harry took a deep breath.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that Mrs. Malfoy." He whispered and heard a cough from behind him. Hermione was leaning against the door-frame with a grim look on her face. He turned back to Mrs. Malfoy figuring he would deal with Hermione later. It was still hard for him to speak but it was a lot easier than it had been before his little breakdown. "You have been so kind. If there is anything I can do, anything at all to repay your kindness…"

"Harry" She said softly but effectively cutting him off. She cupped his cheek with her palm. "We all have our difficult times when we just need someone to holds us through it. I am very honoured to be able to that for you. You don't have to repay anything." She looked at him significantly and he knew she was trying to say that she would always be grateful for Draco's life. It made him a little uncomfortable but he had figured out sometime after the war that the bond created by gratitude was deeper than most bonds.

"Thank you Mrs. Malfoy."

"Now, I know just the cure for a broken heart like yours." Her eyes suddenly gleamed with a sort of excitement Harry didn't understand at all, especially when he was focussing more on her last words. He heard Hermione draw a breath like she was about to talk but he beat her to it.

"How…" he started but she shushed him softly.

"Oh, I wouldn't be much of a mother if I can't know a broken heart for what it is when I see one. And…" She stopped a little abruptly but then she smiled again, a little ruefully. "I was young once too, a long time ago." Harry wanted to say that it wasn't that long ago, that she was so beautiful and fresh she could still be considered young, but he supposed she already knew that.

"Okay." He breathed. "So what would be the cure for a broken heart?" He looked down to his lap ashamed at how weak and earnest he sounded.

"Wha…" started Hermione but Mrs. Malfoy raised her hand to silence her and walked around the room with a strange expression on her face.

"You need a project. Something that won't be too stressful but that requires your almost constant attention and where you can see the results as you go." He panicked a little; he wasn't ready at all to begin his training to be an Auror. He wasn't even sure he wanted to do that now. And what other "project" could he be interested in? Mrs. Malfoy went on. "I think I know what it could be…. Yes, you do need to clean the energy around here." He looked at her in confusion as she stared at him expectantly as if he should understand what she meant. He looked at Hermione in confusion but she was glaring at Mrs. Malfoy and didn't notice.

Mrs. Malfoy sighed. "The house Mr. Potter. I think you should redecorate the house completely. Make it your home." She looked around. "I grew up here. It wasn't as bad as it is now but it was already filled with history and evil. It wasn't possible to have a healthy life in here. And that was before Aunt Walburga's years of madness when her whole family either died, went to Azkaban or abandoned her in the same year." Harry jaw had dropped a long time ago. He could feel two things stirring inside him he hadn't thought he could feel anymore. The first was a very muted, but still there, excitement at the challenge of changing the whole house. The second was curiosity over the history of Sirius's family. Sirius had always been very short, cruel and snappish whenever he told anything about his family but Harry knew there was more to it, a lot more. Starting with Regulus who had turned against Voldemort. He was contemplating where he would start changing the house when the fire turned green for the third time that day. Maybe it would be Draco… No, Draco had completely left Harry. The tears threatened to come once more but he held them back.

It wasn't Draco, but he already knew that. It was Ron, his face was red and he looked thoroughly pissed.

"Where the hell have you been?" He bellowed. Then he seemed to notice they weren't alone. "And what is she doing here?" he pointed at Mrs. Malfoy rudely.

Mrs. Malfoy had gone quite still standing next to couch, facing the hearth with one hand gracefully resting on the back of the couch. She looked like she was posing for a portrait. For a whole minute they were all frozen looking at each other and then, with an ease that made Harry's heart yearn for Draco, Mrs. Malfoy went to Ron and bowed a little in greeting.

"Good evening Mr. Weasley" The look of shock on Ron's face almost made Harry laugh but then his friend's face contorted in disgust and he ignored the greeting. "I think I'll be going now, Mr. Potter. I'll come back tomorrow to discuss our project."

"Good night Mrs. Malfoy. Thank you for coming." She smiled and without a single glace at Ron, disappeared in the green flames.

"That's it Harry, spit it out or I'll beat the crap out of you!" Spat Ron nastily.

"Ron!" cried Hermione scandalized.

"No Hermione. I told him, I told him not to hurt her! She has been crying all day! I only came now because she finally fell asleep, I want an explanation and I want it now!"

Harry knew this was it, if he didn't say anything right now he would loose his best friend and possibly the only family he ever dared to consider his own. But they weren't his family, they would all be on Ginny's side supporting her because that's what family does. He knew he was the one who had fucked up and he didn't had the right to ask any support from anyone but now more than ever he missed having a real family, someone who would always stand by him even if he messed up badly. But the only thing he could do now was savage whatever was left of his relationships with the Weasleys. Even he couldn't go back to Ginny as a boyfriend maybe if he did things right in time they would forgive him enough to allow him to be a friend again.

"Alright." He whispered. Hermione eyed him worriedly.

"Are you sure Harry?" Harry wanted to hug her. She had probably understood from his earlier behaviour that he needed time and that he was in a lot of pain. But his pain wouldn't matter to the Weasleys.

"Yes. I can't answer all your questions but I'll do my best." Ron huffed and sat down.

"Why didn't you show up last night?" he asked.

"I lost track of time."

"Where were you?"

"I can't tell you that…"

"Wha…!"

"Who were you with?" that was Hermione, trying to make things easier, but it wasn't.

"I can't tell you that either but we've been seeing each other for some time."

"Oh, Harry! You promised me you would stop it!"

"You knew! Never mind… Harry you were cheating on Ginny?" Ron started shaking his head in disgust. "How could you?"

"I'm sorry. I know it was a very shitty thing to do but it just happened."

"Just happened?! Once, I believe it 'just happened' but for months! That doesn't 'just happen'!" Shouted Ron, Hermione placed a hand on his arm to calm him but he shrugged it off.

"Look, Ron, I am sorry. I know there is nothing I can say to make it better. I know I should have ended things with Ginny but I cared for her a lot, I wanted to be part of your family and I thought I was doing the right thing by staying with her. But this other person… I just couldn't stop. I knew I was doing something really bad but I couldn't help myself. In fact, I don't think I really wanted it to stop…" His heart was yearning for Draco. How could he have been so stupid? It was clear that staying with Ginny so long had been a mistake now. How could he ever think that what he felt for her could replace what he felt for Draco?

"Wait." Ron looked confused. "So, you're not sorry to have fucked someone else, you're sorry you didn't break up with Ginny earlier" his ears were going red now and Harry knew it wasn't going to be easy.

"You love her!" cried Hermione like she had just won a thousand galleons. "You love this woman you have been seeing! That's why you couldn't stop! That's why you did that to Ginny. Oh! It all makes sense now, how could I not see it before. Your love was stronger than your morals and we know how strong they are! That's romantic." Ron looked as if he had been slapped in the face as he listened to Hermione's rant. She caught the look and hurried to correct herself. "But what you did was very bad Harry!" then with more conviction: "You shouldn't have stayed with Ginny if you loved someone else, you hurt her badly."

"I know." Harry whispered feeling miserable but a bit glad that Hermione understood what he had been feeling. That was until he saw Ron's face: it was almost purple and his eyes shone with anger.

"You are going to leave her." He said grinding his teeth.

"Yes." Harry breathed, afraid of what was to come. It came in the shape of Ron's fist on his cheek. He heard a nasty CRACK and knew something was broken. The searing pain in his cheekbone confirmed this. Hermione was shouting at Ron and trying to calm him. She succeeded partially because Ron didn't hit him anymore but he did say in his coldest voice:

"You will be welcomed in The Burrow once to tell Ginny whatever you have to tell her and then never again. You're a selfish son of a bitch Harry, I can't believe I thought of you as a friend." Harry closed his eyes in defeat.

"Ron…" he tried but he already knew it was too late. Ron, his first friend of his age, the one who had been with him in all his adventures, in his long battle against Voldemort, his best friend was lost. Harry had lost him.

"No, Harry, it's not only because of Ginny. You lied to me for months and you promised me you wouldn't hurt her. I'm sorry but that's not what you expect from a friend."

"I know…" His cheek was hurting, his eyes were burning, there was a lump in his throat and he felt like shit.

"Be at the Burrow tomorrow at eleven, I'll make sure no one's there." With that Ron disappeared in the green flames. Harry remained trying to wrap his head over the fact that he had lost his best friend.

"Let me see that" Hermione said turning his head to heal the damage on his cheek. "He'll come round"

"No, he won't"

That night his dreams were full of fingers pointing at him and people he loved crying. His parents were disappointed. Sirius was disappointed; even Remus and Tonks were disappointed. And Draco, Draco was silent, his eyes filled with tears like they had been the last time he saw him.

Eleven o'clock the next day came too quickly. It had been a rough morning but Hermione had helped him through it. He came to The Burrow with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; it was the last time he would be allowed in this house. All the happy memories came rushing into his mind at once and he had to use all his strength not to break down again. Ginny was in her room. He hated the fact that they would have to talk there because it wasn't neutral ground at all but he figured he didn't have much opinion in the matter and went up anyway.

The last time he had been in this room he had been snogged by Ginny. It had been a good kiss, he remembered that. But one that paled in comparison to the ones he had shared with Draco.

"Harry, I don't know exactly what happened yesterday but I did a lot of thinking and I want you to know that I am ready to forgive anything and move on with you. I love you. I want to get back together." Harry took a deep breath. So, Ron hadn't tried to make it any easier. This was going to be hell. He knew it was irrational to feel disgusted by her eagerness, that it was cruel, but he couldn't help it. All he could do was try to break it to her as smoothly but as firmly as possible.

"I'm sorry Ginny. There are a lot of things I'm sorry for and for which I need to ask forgiveness." She nodded. "But that doesn't mean I want to get back together with you." Her face fell.

"What?!" she shrieked and Harry blinked, he hadn't expected that reaction. Ginny was always understanding and patient. "Why?!"

"I love you Ginny, but only as a friend, even as a sister but not as a lover." Well, that wasn't too smooth, but he didn't know any other way than to tell her things clearly. He had never wanted her. He had only wanted Draco. Draco's scent, Draco's skin, Draco's lips, Draco's stormy eyes. Ginny was pretty but he didn't feel attracted to her.

"Since when?!" They were tears in her eyes and Harry looked away, he was making too many people cry lately.

"I don't… Perhaps since we came back to Hogwarts after the war." He cringed, beating himself up violently in his head.

"WHAT??!! ALL THIS TIME?" She seemed to puff up in indignation, her face turned red. She glared at Harry like he was Lord Voldemort in flesh. "What I am to you? Am I some sort of toy you can play with? Why did you came back to me if you didn't love me? Was it all part of some sick game of yours? You made me think we would be married! I had my life set at your disposal you idiot! How could you trick me like that?" Her face was contorted with rage and tears ran freely down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Ginny. That's one of the things I ask you to forgive me for, I should have ended it back then but I wanted to love you. I wanted to have what we had before…"she will not forgive you, I wouldn't forgive you.

"Oh, I know! This is because of that bitch! That's it, she convinced you that you didn't love me anymore!" Ginny's face seemed to glow with hope for a moment. "That's all, isn't it? You do love me, you're just confused by the lust you felt for whoever you were seeing but it's me you really love, right?"

"No Ginny, I really don't love you like that." He tried to keep her away from the cheating bit but she caught on with his tactic at once.

"I know it's all because of that whore!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry's fists clenched, even if it was irrational to be enraged because Ginny didn't even know who she was insulting, his heart screamed for him to defend Draco.

"OH! Don't you play innocent with me!" She shoved her finger in his face and for a second she looked exactly like Mrs. Weasley. "Everyone noticed Harry! Everyone knew you spend half your nights away from your dormitory! Everyone thought I was stupid not to say or do anything!" She started laughing madly with the tears still running down her cheeks. He hated that. He had liked about her that she didn't often cry, now all her face was wet with tears and snot and she was completely disgusting.

" 'Ginny, don't you see he's cheating on you?' 'Why do you keep letting him get away with it?' 'Have you no self-respect?' FUCK! And all I thought was 'He needs some time after the war' 'He will come round' 'We are meant to be together, he would never leave me forever'. We were supposed to be the couple that could endure through everything!" She took a deep breath and looked at a dumbstruck Harry. "There is only one thing I want to know. Who is the bitch who took you away from me?"

Harry stayed quiet. So, all the understanding and the patience Ginny showed was all based on the belief that they were indestructible and would end up together in the end? He had never thought about his relationship with her like that. Suddenly he had the impression he could understand the way Ginny's mind worked. She had been so sure, so completely convinced that their relationship would be forever she had forgiven everything, anything. Ginny, the strong girl, the understanding girl, the mature girl got all her strength from certainties in her life and he had just taken the most important one away from her. Harry could see her in a detached sort of way, no longer charmed by her, he could see her as a whole. They could never work out. He was living in the uncertainty of his life completely. He didn't know what he was going to do, what he was going to study. He didn't know what his talents were. He didn't know who he was at all now that he had killed Voldemort. She needed certainties and he had none.

"Tell me Harry, who is she? Was she so good in bed you couldn't resist? Did she give good head? Did you like the way she moaned?" Ginny's face was redder than her hair and she looked half crazed. Harry's heart began bleeding for Draco again, yes, he had been too good to resist, yes, he gave amazing head, yes, he adored the way he moaned.

"Why Harry? We are destined to be together! I have been waiting for you since I was ten years old! I am the girlfriend of Harry Potter! No one else! Why can't you see it?"

"The girlfriend of Harry Potter?" he repeated in disbelief. "Did you ever love me Ginny? Or do you just love being the girlfriend of Harry Potter? Do you even know who I am?" It seemed so clear now, Ginny had idolised him since she first saw him because he was Harry Potter. She was like all the others, like all the stupid girls with love potions. She had just been lucky enough to be his best friend's sister. "You don't love me Ginny, you never did. It was all about being the girlfriend of someone famous and rich."

She made a sort of war cry and threw herself at Harry punching his chest.

"IT'S ALL BECAUSE OF HER!! TELL ME WHO SHE IS! WHY IS SHE BETTER THAN ME?" He tried to keep her away but she managed to hit his ribs several times

"ANSWER ME!!! WAS SHE THAT GOOD?" She punched him accentuating every word. "WHO IS SHE? WHO!" She sobbed. "Why was she better than me Harry? Was it really the sex? Was the sex good?" Harry couldn't take it anymore. He yearned for Draco, he was completely overwhelmed.

"YES!!" he screamed. "THE SEX WAS BRILLIANT! SHE WAS BRILLIANT! AND I FUCKING FELL IN LOVE!" He stopped as he heard what he was saying. Ginny had stopped too, with her fist in the air in the middle of a hit, her mouth gaping and her eyes bulging.

"Ginny, I'm sorry, I didn't want it to come out that way." Her fists fell limp and she closed her mouth. "I should have told a long time ago. I really screwed up but I don't want to loose your friendship…"

"Out!" Ginny said.

"Ginny please, can we talk for a bit." He wanted to end this the right way. He would loose the family completely if he didn't.

"OUT!"

"Ginny…"

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!"

Harry obeyed and went out the room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where all the family was again gathered and looked horror-stricken. Damn Ron, he couldn't do anything easy, could he?

"I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I didn't want to ruin your day. I guess I should go." He practically ran out of kitchen, out of the house and Apparated home.

He wanted to crawl to bed and stay there. What had he expected really? That everyone just accepted that he had been fucking someone else as he was still officially with Ginny? He had been so centred in his own grief he hadn't really cared what they thought. But they were his family and now he had lost them.

The next two months were crazy. Harry's mind constantly replayed his 'relationship' with Draco second by second. How they had started, all the conversations they had had, every time they were in bed. And especially that last afternoon together. He thought about Draco as he battled doxies and Dark Magic. He thought about Draco when he and Mrs. Malfoy went to the greatest shops in the world to pick this or that chair or lamp or bed. He thought about Draco on those cold nights he had spent when the windows in the house hadn't been placed yet. Hermione was with him almost all the time. Mrs. Malfoy came and went, sometimes she disappeared for three or four days and then she came back, never helping with any manual work but always suggesting the best way to get a table through the door or to break a curse.

He would also think about the Weasleys, none of them tried to contact him so he assumed he really had lost them all. He had lost almost everyone he loved. But during that time the loss that most burdened his soul was Draco's.

Several times, especially during the first few weeks he would collapse in tears and ask the air "Why? Why? What did I do?" and Hermione or Mrs. Malfoy would hold him until he regained his composure. But slowly, very slowly, as the house began to make sense again, as the family heirlooms were carefully inspected and sorted and selected to stay or go, Harry began to accept that he would never know the answer to that. He learned to live with it as we all have to learn to live without knowing why we are here or who created us or where we will go after we die. Harry still thought about Draco. He still ached for him. His very skin seemed to call for the blond god. He sometimes associated the pain with the pain a heroin addict must feel when he are forced to stop abruptly. But slowly, very slowly, the pain became a little less unbearable.

Those were probably the longest two months of his life. Each day held it's own battle, against the house and against himself. Hermione was obviously trying very hard not to pressure him. She never asked to many questions or stopped if Harry gave her a meaningful look.

Finally, at the end of the second month, the house was done, safe for some small details like where to put the Greek statue of a dragon curled around an apple tree that Harry knew had something to do with Hercules but didn't really remember the story. And Harry felt it was time to stop hiding and go out of the house. He knew that even if he wanted to cry sometimes he wouldn't collapse anymore at the most inappropriate moments. He told Hermione he was ready and her, with a big smile on her face, made arrangements to go to a photograph exhibition that apparently had received the best critics of… whatever.

His insides were churning and his hands were sweating and every minute or so he felt a pang of sadness as his thoughts came back to Draco, as they always did. He heard a ruffle behind him and turned to see Hermione dusting her robes.

"Are you ready, Har… Oh! You look great!" She clapped her hands excitedly.

Another one of Mrs. Malfoy's "projects" was to create a complete wardrobe for Harry (she even forced him to make a room specifically for that purpose). She had also made him go a Healer who in a few minutes corrected Harry's eyesight for a grotesque price, of course. So now, all he had to wear were expensive designer clothes, muggle and wizard. Even the jeans looked expensive. In the end he had just let her do what she wanted and tried to memorise all the rules she told him about dressing in a pure-blood environment (where a colour and a picture it's significance) and simple colour matching rules. So now he was wearing a pair of black trousers he loved because they had a very subtle silvery design of a dragon that could only be seen with a certain light. Mrs. Malfoy had called them "casual but with a lot of potential". Of course, they made him think about Draco, but what didn't? And he was wearing black formal shoes and a green Cashmere sweater with a white shirt underneath. Mrs. Malfoy would have called his look today extremely simple but then he often went with simplicity.

"Thanks" he muttered.

"Oh, come on! It's going to be great! All the great critics are going to be there and all the best photographers. It's amazing how many people it's gathering. I heard it's a very young artist too. Everyone is going to see it… it's HUGE!" Hermione had developed a sort of obsession for muggle photography and Ron and Harry had been forced to listen to her ramblings about it for hours. Now he had to listen to her alone. She had even filled his house with artistic photographs, which he liked, but he wasn't going to admit that to her because then she would go completely over the top. He managed to smile at her sadly. "You'll see. I'm sure it's going to be great!"

They Apparated in a dark alley not far from the gallery and walked the rest of the way. Hermione had been right, it was incredibly crowded and only after a long wait they were able to get in. He instantly liked the photographs. Most of them were portraits of very different people, young ladies, children, old and wrinkled men...

"See that one, I love the colours" Hermione said pointing at one of a woman playing the accordion, the colours were all shades of red with a bit of black, it gave it a very dramatic look. They walked around looking at all the photos. Harry had to admit he was enjoying himself. The photos were great. They were about to leave when a woman mentioned there was another room where the best pictures were. As they entered the room Harry felt his heart stop for a second. Half the photos in the room were portraits of a very familiar face, a face he loved and adored but that never seemed so beautiful as in those pictures.

"Harry," Hermione whispered in his ear. "That's Draco Malfoy isn't it?"

It was. But they weren't just normal pictures of Draco, they were pictures of Draco's soul the way Harry had always known it was but had never seen it so clearly. They showed Draco in all his complexity, the sensuality, the beauty, the danger, the pain, the past that troubled him, the innocence he still managed to retain after all that happened. It was Draco, beautiful because of all the contradictions, beautiful because of all the complexity.

"He's so…" Hermione seemed to scramble her brain for the words. "sad."

Harry couldn't answer. It wasn't only sad for him it was magnificent. The one they were standing in front of now showed Draco with his arms above his head, clearly dancing but his eyes were so troubled it was impossible to see it only as a sexy dance. Harry couldn't breath, he could only walk to next photo and then to the next until they arrived at the largest and most impressive of all. Draco was standing next to a window with all the sun in his hair, he was shirtless and there was a tear running down his cheek. He heard a sob next to him and managed to tear his eyes from the photo to look at Hermione. She was crying softly. He put and arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

"I'm sorry." She sobbed. "It's just… it's like all the pain from the war is just there, you know. It's like he's crying for all that was lost."

"Yes, it is." He whispered placing a kiss on her head and looking at the picture again.

"It's always surprising to see people react so strongly to one of my photos." Said a soft voice behind them and Harry turned quickly to see whom it was. It was a very tall, olive-skinned, handsome young man.

"Are you the artist?" he asked cautiously thinking this man knew Draco and trying to keep the jealousy and envy away from his heart. But this man had done something so beautiful he couldn't be mad at him, so it wasn't hard.

"I am" he replied simply looking at the picture with what could only be described as pride.

"How did you know him?" Hermione asked and Harry wanted to hug her. The man's eyes shot to them and examined them carefully.

"Do you know him?" His head was tilted to the side as if he could see more in them that way.

"We do… we went to school with him." Hermione informed. "We weren't very close to him…" she trailed off, wisely stopping her massive understatement. Harry averted his eyes lest they gave him away. A tiny little woman with bright red hair approached them and whispered something in the man's ear. He sighed.

"I have to go, it was nice talking to you." The man looked at them as if trying to remember every detail. "If you… want to continue this conversation I'm going to be here every night for about week." He left without waiting for an answer.

"That was strange wasn't it?" Hermione asked but Harry was too busy looking at the man's back. The look on his face… it was like he wanted to say something but what? Could this man help him to see Draco? "He didn't even answer my question." She was obviously a little upset by that, if there was one thing she hated was people not answering her questions.

"No, he didn't." Harry whispered and for the first time in two months he felt a tiny little bit of hope.