Affectionately Platform 9 ¾

. . .

I'll let you go.

"I'm sorry Harry" The handsome young blonde of seventeen whispered over his shoulder. Glancing back at his lover who slumbered peacefully on the cotton pillows, he could only give a half-smile. "I—I can't"

The final battle was done and won—with the dark lord gone; they could all graduate without fear of another uprising. In a matter of hours the seventh years would be participating in their last Leaving Feast as students of the school. Many amongst his year had received numerous job opportunities right after graduation. Being part of the generation which fought along side Harry Potter, it was expected. However, he was not one of them.

Draco was one of those who changed the most during the war. He ceased his childish banter with the Weasley's and those of non-pureblood decent. Despite his strong family background under Voldemort's command, he was the first amongst purebloods to go against the dark one and fight on the side of light. It was his mother's life which paid for his betrayal and her death only pushed him to become stronger.

Yet in spite of the efforts he contributed during the war, many prejudices were still against his family name. Many wizards and witches could not forget the unspeakable things that his father and aunt had done while under the command of darkness. They relentlessly judged him for this, hated him for crimes that he did not commit. Rumors still circled that he would soon follow in those misled footsteps, secretly planning to attack Potter from the inside.

The Slytherin shook his head for the ninth time, scolding himself for allowing his thoughts to stray too far. Right now, he was curled up with the man who possibly saved the world, his lover, Harry. He studied the other's features quietly, taking in as much as he could—forcing himself to remember; each caress of flesh, the murmur of slow and stead breathing, the feel of unruly yet soft locks along his finger tips and the taste of supple lips against his own.

It was over now, all over. Graduation was nearing. He could make out a few scars marked by the numerous hexes which landed on his lover's flesh. He frowned; some would never disappear, marking the skin forever. Harry was still sleeping like a cub in hibernation. He must be exhausted, Draco thought, combing his fingers through raven strands once more. This would be the last time they shared a bed. It would be their last night together.

"Good morning" Harry sleepily mumbled while snuggling closer to his pale companion, trying to soak up more heat from the naked body beside him. The scent of Draco invaded his nostrils and flooded his senses. There was smooth skin which touched his cheeks as he moved closer. Draco felt so warm, warmer than any heating charm that he knew—it was human warmth. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Not long" Draco whispered softly, not really knowing for himself how much time had passed since he was roused from slumber. He smiled gently over the sleepy figure beside him. "Hey, hey—!" He suddenly jerked in surprise when cool fingers tenderly skimmed over his flesh. "—stop! It tickles!" He complained but Harry paid no attentions to his verbal protests.

Harry padded over the sheet, crawling on all fours until he was above his blonde lover—hovering like a predator. The sheets casually fell off his strong tanned shoulders, more so when he dipped his head and buried his face against a pale neck. Draco smelled divine, scent mixing with those from the previous night's activities. "You smell of sex" He said ever so casually, making a fierce bush appear on Draco's face.

"Harry—" Draco began but the protest soon melted into a moan as lips brush against his sensitive skin. "—stop teasing" Again his pleas fell on deaf ears as the brunette continued the torturous pleasure on his body; nips, kisses and licks worshipped him while he shuddered wantonly beneath his lover. Fingers traced over his flesh, sculpting the contours of his body.

"What are you doing?" He asked lightly when those fingers stopped. Lifting his head, he quickly faced a pair of deep emerald eyes darkened with lust. He watched in silence as Harry brought a finger to his own lips and hushed to stay quiet. His eyes trailed over the tanned finger, stopping his breath when it flicked across his nipple.

"Harry?" He voiced, but no answer came. "Oh—Harry!" He gasped when a pair of soft lips covered his pert bud; his lover's mouth took the sensitive mount whole. He relaxed into the pressure, finding the simple action erotic. But in a few seconds he was gasping again when Harry decided to suckle. It wasn't harsh, it wasn't demanding, it was just—suckling, like the brunette hoped for milk.

"If you're looking for milk, you better find a girl" Draco said in jest, finding amusement in the brunette's action but it his lover didn't seem to find it amusing. "Fu—what was that for?" He demanded when Harry sunk teeth into his flesh, bruising him. Harry was swiftly apologetic, moving a tongue to sooth the spot he had bitten. Draco hissed in response, feeling the pinch of pain when the wet muscle touched his sore flesh, while his partner worked his tender nipple.

Harry's tongue worked wonders, easing the pain and making Draco squirm in pleasure. The blonde never realized that his lover had a hand snaked in between them, feeling up an intimate spot behind him—he moaned. "Harry" but the hand strayed away from the heated place between his legs. "Harry" he pouted even more because the brunette didn't listen.

"Shall I give some attention to another part of you Draco?" Harry whispered the name in parseltongue, causing the blonde to shudder and harden even more. He formed a smirk, similar to the one usually worn by his lover, making his face look more sensual.

"Please" The Slytherin seventh year answered weakly. He yielded despite his pureblood stature, his house name and his family heritage—he let himself plead, yielding to the only person who could control his body like a puppet. Harry was the only one to hold him like this—like a lover would. "Touch me" He begged, voice deepening in a whisper. This time, the stubborn boy complied.

Morning slowly progressed to the afternoon; soon the evening's Leaving Feast would begin. Most of the seventh years were preoccupied fantasizing about what came after graduation while the younger years still were getting debriefed about the whole 'war' experience and professors were still rebuilding the crumbling parts of the castle. Snape ascended to the role of Headmaster after Dumbledore's tragic death while McGonegall took her position as Deputy Headmistress.

Though most where curious were the Gryffindor Golden Boy and the Slytherin Ice Prince was, no one had enough courage to ask. It was improbable for the two to be together anyway and most assumed that they were simply taking their time away from the masses of students. The assumptions were partially correct.

Later, they basked in the afterglow of love making. They had risen mid-morning, skipped breakfast and opted to stay away from the crowds. Not long before the final battle began, they discovered secret chambers scattered around the castle for reason had not cared to find out. Currently, they were staying in their favorite one which was found on the fourth floor in a nearly deserted side of the castle. It was carefully furnished over the nights they had spent together during the year. It was something like a home away from home.

"It will be time to leave soon" Draco murmured more to himself, pushing his lips attempting hide the discontent. The dimness of the room provided him the privacy he silently wished for.

"Yeah" his lover responded in a muted voice.

"We better start packing then" He continued, more unwilling to go leave than he let on. He would miss this- this bed, this warmth, this body beside him—Harry, his heart silently cried out but his face never showed it.

"Yes, I guess we should" Harry finally conceded before gently, slowly, detaching himself from the tangle of limbs. His heart crying out at the lost of contact with the other but he too stayed firm. It's not like they would never see each other again, right? "I'll see you after the feast then…?" It sounded more like a question than a statement, like he was also trying to convince himself of those words. The other nodded and they parted ways.

I'll set you free.

At the feast they barely saw each other—too caught up in the celebration of their own houses. Minerva Mcgonagall gave the last speech she would ever give her seventh years since Snape was still in intensive care for most of the remaining. This was batch which she helped groom from the minute they stepped into the castle during their first year. She called their names and divided them into houses. Affectionately, she let her eyes drift over the Gryffindor table. She never showed it openly but she was proud of them.

"—to the graduating seventh years, I am expecting more of you yet." She finished her speech and with a wave of her hand, the enchanted ceiling bursting into small fireworks and confetti. The students all cheered, throwing their pointed hats into the air, uncaring where they dropped on the floor. Harry found his lover amidst the thongs of the student population, discreetly pulling the blonde to the corridors were they were unseen.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked quizzically, slightly puzzled and mildly amused.

"Talking to you" Harry replied lamely. A lopsided grin painted his boyish features and the happiness shown in his bright emerald eyes. But Draco merely looked away, forcing himself to meet Harry's eyes. He would breakdown the minute he stared in those endless pools of green. He felt like his whole being was exposed when Harry looked at him. There was no judgment—just acceptance of who he was, Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?" No sooner was the question asked that they heard footsteps stepping out of the hall and headed their direction. Without another thought, Draco pulled the hood over his head and began kissing the breath out of his lover just in time as Lavander Brown and Neville Longbottom came into view.

"Blimey Harry" The Gryffindor boy commented. "You sure can't wait, can you?" He jested, gently leading Lavender away from the seen without another look.

Harry's mind was clouded with thought of his fair-haired Slytherin lover who had once again proven his quick wit. "What are you doing?" It was his turn to ask. He wasn't really ashamed of the relationship, rather he was quite proud to call the Ice Prince as his but he wasn't sure that this was the best way to announce their relationship. The rumors would surely blow everything out of proportion!

Draco merely smiled slyly, lapping a hot tongue over his bottom lip before answering. "Nothing" He answered cheekily then completely pulled away. He moved back, giving the brunette space so that his robe was no longer rubbing against the wall. "I'll see you" Draco said, giving Harry one last peck on the lips before once against disappearing into the hall. While outside the Saviour of the Wizarding world was left, gently touching his lips. Surely they would meet again, right?

Wrong. When the feast was done and the students were allowed to leave. Everyone exchanged their last farewells and said their parting words but Draco was no where to be found. When the students dispersed, Harry was left staring out into the platform—waiting. What happened? He asked himself dumbly. Somehow he felt stupid and lonelier than he had ever been in his seven years at Hogwarts.

"Harry" a distinct female voice came from behind him, tenderly a feminine hand touched his shoulder. "The train will be leaving soon, we better step inside" she informed him. Harry turned around and forced himself to smile back. The hand on his shoulder dropped, worry clearly showed on her features. She extended a hand towards him and he silently smiled in return before taking it. Hand in hand they walked into the train's cabins, unaware of silver eyes glistening in the shadows.

When Harry left Hogwarts that night, he not only left all the memories of the secret relationship, locked away in the stonewalls that would never speak of it again, but he also left his heart and. along with it, a promised that no matter what—he would wait for the blonde's return.

Two weeks after graduation, Harry receives his daily copy of the Daily Prophet. He could only blink at the headline which read Malfoy-Greengrass; Wedding of the Century; he felt his heart clench and his bit his lips in distaste. He threw the broadsheet into the rubbish bin but said nothing about the issue. One year later, after the Leaving Feast at Hogwarts, he proposed to Ginny Weasley.

. . .

A flashback

The full moon was out tonight. Somewhere along the shadowy deserted corridors of Hogwarts, two bodies sat. They were a few paces apart, perched on the open window ledge with their legs mindlessly dangling a hundred or so meters above the grassy grounds. They sat in silence, purely listening to the numerous hums that surrounded them. To a normal person, it looked like the pair was leisurely resting. Through trained eyes, one will notice that both pairs of eyes were closed and wands were ready at hand.

Harry and Draco were training—exercising their senses and heightening their ability to feel. They did this almost every night; after Harry's Occlumency with Professor Snape and Draco's additional sessions with Madam Pomfrey in Healing, they would meet here along the desolate passageway. With very few words they started and not long after a comfortable silence fell around them. They were like in a trance—just listening to the whispers that echoed Hogwart's halls.

It was nearly midnight when they ended their sessions. By this time, Prefects have long abandoned their duties of guarding the halls and Professors had retreated to their chambers for the night. No one checked this area because there was very few people who knew about it—student and faculty alike. The pair had stumbled upon the site whilst Harry was looking for a place to hold the DA meetings. An unexpected turn of events hurled them into barely lit passage which brought them to his hallway.

"Harry" Draco spoke up, sensing the boy's steady change in demeanor even though Harry's outside façade never changed. The dark haired boy's posture hunched slightly but gave no answer. At this, Draco shifted in response, throwing a leg over ledge and now seating saddled on the cool stone to face his companion. Harry made no movement to acknowledge the other's movements. Slowly, a pale hand prodded the Gryffindor's shoulder. This time, Harry grunted.

"Blimey! I thought you were done for" Draco jested, doing the same thing he did with his other leg so he could face the empty wall in front of him. Over the past weeks that they have been doing the secret meetings, they managed to somewhat connect and developed a small friendship. Neither of them denied the fact that there was also attraction between them; neither of them made any mention of it either. Bloody fools for letting go of their shot at happiness.

They now stared at opposite side of the window. Gone was the discipline they had before, wand hands now relaxed on their sides relieved of grasping their wooden rods. They weren't listening anymore—at least not at the castle's whispers. Instead they were listening to each other's breathing albeit they would never admit it. It was a long period of silence before either one spoke again.

"Draco?" This time it was Harry who broke the dead air. He only received a shrug of acknowledgement and he took it as a positive sign to continued talking. "There's a full moon out tonight" He said in a matter-of-fact tone but he was merely making conversation.

"I know you scarhead" Draco retorted sounding half bored and half in amusement. He was kidding really, but his upbringing still would not allow him to joke around with a Gryffindor. He hoped the dark haired wizard was up for a small jest. He was in no mood for childish fights tonight; the lesson with Madam Pomfrey was extremely than the ones before.

Luckily for him, Harry was. "Piss-take" Harry muttered under his breath softly, making sure the Slytherin didn't hear him. There was already a hint of a smile playing over his features while he held back a laugh.

"What was that?" The said Slytherin asked after hearing the low grumble from his companion. Curiosity got the better of him before he bit back his tongue to repress the succeeding inquiries that were to follow. He couldn't help it. Around Harry, he was so relaxed. His body no longer felt threatened by the presence of the golden boy. He inwardly groaned, he was letting himself slip with each night they spent together.

"I do believe the great Draco Malfoy is joshing me!" Harry replied several moments later while still holding back his laughter. Some time between when they first started these session and the present, he had grown accommodated to the other's magical signature and attuned himself with the other's presence. He could feel it the moment Draco would enter the hall and a tinge of sadness would pull his heart when the said boy was gone.

The light-hearted mood continued as the night progressed. They exchanged witty and playful banter, swapping comebacks that were never once below the belt. The two males were actually having fun; they were enjoying each other's company. As the retorts quieted, they began noticing the sleepiness invading their systems. They lowered themselves on the floor, robes sliding down the stone walls before pooling around the space where they sat.

They carried on talking, maintaining the cheery chatter about themselves. They chatted about the most random things like Mrs. Norris, pickles, the enchanted tree outside the castle, muggles, ect. Their conversation eventually led them to open up about their pasts. Harry shared his miserable childhood under the roof of his muggle relatives. After that, Draco told Harry about his past, his family and pressures he received as a pureblood wizard. Neither of them realizing how much time had passed.

The full moon now was accompanied by many stars. Somewhere along the shadowy deserted corridors of Hogwarts, two bodies sat. They were sitting side by side, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee, slumped against the cool stone wall. They cared not for the night's temperature or awkwardness of their positions. They sat in peace, mesmerized by the other's breathing. They were quiet, all earlier forms of speech leaving them. They simply lay there, hand in hand as they drifted off to sleep. It was their first night together.

. . .

It was nineteen years later before Harry saw him again. On the platform 9 ¾, the Hogwarts train was ready to bring in the newest lot of first years to the castle grounds. It was autumn, the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple. He had just heard of Ron's successful grab at a muggle license after the redhead Confunded the poor examiner. He felt it the moment silver eyes looked out into the station. The steam from the train momentarily thinned out, three people stood relief against the shifting mist.

"Look who it is" His friend's voice barely registered in his brain. He no longer noticed the continuous bickering of his two sons. He could not hear Ginny and Hermione whispering behind him. All he could think of was the distinct figure of Draco who stood across the platform, some fifty yards away. He watched as a new boy appeared who much looked like Draco as Albus looked like Harry. His mobility left him completely.

His breath hitched and his heart clinched when Draco caught his eyes—silver met green. A faint gasp was heard behind him, no doubt from his wife. He couldn't think of what to do so he stayed there, waiting for the other man to move. From his position amongst the crowd, Draco gave a curt and polite nod before turning away. He, along with his elegant wife, melted away and disappeared into the mass of wizarding families who were sending their children off to school.

The time came for the train to depart for Hogwarts and, with one last goodbye, the children were sent off to a new year's adventure in school. When the families dispersed, Harry was left staring out into the platform where they had spotted the aristocratic family—waiting like he had done in the past. He was left dumbfounded along the nearly empty railway. Once again, he felt the same loneliness that he felt those many years ago.

"Harry" a familiar voice came from behind him, tenderly his wife touched his shoulder. "The train has left now. We need to be heading out too" she informed him. Harry turned around and forced himself to smile back affectionately. The hand on his shoulder dropped before offering him her hand. He smiled gratefully and took it. Hand in hand they walked towards the exit with Lily by their side, again unaware of silver eyes lurking unseen.

When Harry left the train station that evening with Lily and Ginny, he was still absorbed within thoughts of those shimmering silver eyes that haunted his dreams. He pushed his lips together and said nothing. The man had turned away once more. In spite of this, he couldn't help remembering the promise he had made many years ago—no matter what, he would wait for the blonde's return.

. . .

Autumn seemed to arrive earlier the next year. A small family bobbed across the bumbling road toward the great sooty station, the fumes of car exhausts and the breath of pedestrians sparkled like cobwebs in the cold air. Three large cages rattled on top of the laden trolleys the parents, along with their eldest son, were pushing; the owls inside them hooted indignantly. Lily trailed behind the trio with her elder brother, Albus, beside her.

"Can you believe it, Al!" She exclaimed in delight, hands clasping near her chest dramatically. "It won't be long until we arrive at—" but her brother had clasped a hand over her mouth before she could finish. Commuters stared curiously at the pair, eager to see if commotion will brew.

"Keep it down, Lil'" The green-eyed boy hissed in her ear. The statement wasn't a threat, but it was a warning. "You can't let the muggles hear you!" He said, feeling his sister nod before pulling away his hand and shoving it back into his pockets as if nothing happened.

"What are you two doing back there?" Their mother's stern undertone reached their ears even though she was several feet ahead of them. This, of course, was accomplished through magic. They looked nervously at each other before answering in unison. "Nothing mum!"

"Pop, are you paying attention?" James' voice drifted back to Harry over the surrounding clamor of the busy streets; his eldest son, now in his 4th year at Hogwarts, resumed the question whish started in the car. Harry blinked; there was a flash of blonde caught in his line sight. It couldn't be, could it? He looked again; no, it was just some commuter making their way to the station.

"Pop—!" Harry suddenly jerked back into reality after being called a second time. Among his three children, James always had a unique way of calling him; while Albus called him 'Dad' and Lily called him 'Daddy'—James called him 'Pop' albeit the reason was unknown to him. He offered his son a smile and nodded, a sign that he was listening.

"Why don't you go with us instead?" He asked just before pushing his trolley past the barrier; by 'us' he meant his two siblings and himself. He waited on the other side while his father did the same. Harry came through moments later nonchalantly with Albus' trolley in hand. Father and son made their way up the platform. It was still early in the day and there were only a few people spread randomly across the station. Not long after, Albus and Lily appeared behind their mother, Ginny, who was making her way towards the dark-haired pair.

"Where are all the people?" Lily innocently voiced out, walking over to her mother and grabbing a fist full of Ginny's sleeve. The question was intended for her mother but it was Albus who piped up an answer.

"Not everyone has a little sister as excited as you to enter school" He mocked, only gaining a strict look from his mother. Automatically he turned away immediately then uttered a small apology. Lily huffed for a moment but stopped when she saw her brother's sudden stillness and no fits of laughter. Ginny visibly sighed from beside him, the action making Lily look up to her in wonder. The Potter's youngest daughter was clueless on what just transpired between her mother and older brother.

"I seriously don't understand why you were put into that house but it has done nothing good to influence you" Ginny's voice floated into Harry's ears, though it seemed like she was in a separate universe. He bit back his tongue and held back his retort. It would do them no good to argue in front of their children. Instead, he opted to answer James' question.

"It's against the rules, apparently" He lied—only a tiny bit. In his seven years riding the train to Hogwarts, he had only experience a teacher's company once. That was when dementors were out terrorizing students and he found himself trapped in a dementor's kiss. Lupin had been the one to save him and given him quite the fancy for chocolate as well. "Besides, your mum and I still have a chat after you buggers have left" He winked suggestively, hoping to turn the boy away. It worked!

"That's just plain gross, Pop" James made a disgusted expression and turning away, just as the rest of the family reached them. Harry inwardly smiled, happy to leave the topic.

"What have you boys been talking about?" Ginny inquired sweet, making her way towards her eldest son. Behind her, Lily moved over the recently abandoned trolley and locked it in place. Albus moved over to his trolley which was beside his father and did the same. "I hope it wasn't anything too interesting?"

"None Gin" Harry answered back tenderly, moving a hand over her arms to reassure her. His fingers traced over her upper arms, down to her forearms and finally wrapped themselves around her slim fingers. Harry's hands were hard and calloused from the countless hours he spent on his broom in both Auror training and Quidditch with his family on the weekends. Ginny's hands were almost equally as calloused from her practices on the field with the Holyhead Harpies.

"Look who it is" She said the words her brother used before; her sharp eyes quickly seeing a small family walking into the platform. Harry's eyes were as fast as hers, darting in to same direction before she had begun to speak. Draco strode into the platform almost in an aristocratic manner, his head was raised a small angle higher than the wizards around him while his wife walked with the same elegance and air. There son—Scorpius, as identified by Albus—walked in front of them, pushing his own trolley.

Silver met greet. Just like it had the last time they met, Draco's eyes caught his and he nearly stopped breathing. Ginny didn't flinch this time but she did send a smile towards the blonde woman from across the platform. Draco's wife, Astoria, smiled courteously in return with a small blush painting her complexion. From his position nearly fifty yards away, Draco gave a curt nod then turned away to busy himself with the young blonde boy beside him. It was then Harry realized that the scarlet Hogwart's express had arrived. Quickly he too helped his children board the enchanted vehicle.

The time came for the train to depart for Hogwarts and, with one last goodbye, the children were sent off to a new year's adventure in school. When the families dispersed, Harry was left staring out into the platform where they had spotted the aristocratic family—waiting like he had done in the past. He watched as Draco drape an arm over his wife's waist then led her away from the station. Once again, Harry felt the same lonesomeness that he felt those many years ago.

"Harry" a Ginny's voice came from behind him, tenderly she squeezed his shoulder. "They've left now. You need to be heading out too" she informed him. Harry wasn't sure who she meant by 'they' but he assumed it was their children and smiled back affectionately. She lowered her hand and offered it to him. He smiled gratefully and took it, lacing their finger together. Hand in hand they made their way to the exit, still unaware of silver eyes lurking watching not too far away.

When Harry left the train station that evening with Ginny, skipping the train and opting for apparition since it would be faster. His thoughts brought him back to the blonde haired Slytherin he had gone to school with. He remembered the silver eyes which plagued his dreams; Draco had left him for a third time. In spite of this, the promise from long ago chanted in his mind and heart—no matter what, he would wait for the blonde's return.

When you find you,

. . .

"—without further introductions, I'd like you all to welcome Hogwart's newest addition to the teaching staff, Mr. Harry James Potter." There was a rowdy round of applause and cheers that came from the students, more so from the three Potter offspring who were seated in their house tables. Gryffindors seemed to be the loudest, housing yet another added Weasley this year—Hugo. "He will be teaching Defense against the Dark Arts. I trust you all will give him due respect."

Immediately, Oliver felt the man to his right stiffen. The realized that the pair's relationship was a tad bit rocky back in his days at Hogwarts. But here never really knew what happened after that. The blonde and he seldom talked about their students years since they only overlapped a year—it wasn't on friendly terms either. He eyed Harry carefully as the dark haired wizard made his way towards them.

Harry tensed when he entered came face to face with his alma-mater, gruesome images of the final battle invaded his mind. He was quick to shake it off, forcing himself to think of other things. The war was not the only memory he was attempting to repress. He could feel Draco's presence the moment he stepped under the enchanted ceiling. Harry spotted Oliver smiling at him from the table yet his gaze shifted to the blonde man beside him. Draco's was averting his eyes.

He addressed his old professor with a courteous nod. He found himself in front of his old Quidditch Captain whom he greeted with a bright grin. "Blimey! Last news I heard, you were playing for Puddlemere!" He said in a light hearted jest, offering a hand for his former housemate to shake.

"Bludger hit me on the noggin an' I fell off mi' broom" Oliver gave a short explanation. He took Harry's offered hand and shook it before ushering the new professor to his seat. "You must remember Malfoy then. You two were in the same year, right? " his body motions suggested the blonde between them. The other festivities were forgotten behind them.

How could Harry forget? This was the man who stole his heart more than two decades ago. He couldn't possibly forget Draco. Those smoldering silver eyes still haunted his dreams. All the memories of their previous relationship relapsed into his brain. It was in this school where it all started and ironically this as were it ended as well. Harry nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Yes" he paused; green eyes met silver, then continued "We've had our encounters at King's Cross."

"Potter" Draco said the name flatly. He lowered his head in greeting—a sign that he respected the receiver. Harry pursed his lips together but said nothing; he was disappointed that Draco didn't shake his hand. With a soft sigh, he backed away and took a seat beside his former lover. He wondered how that smooth pale flesh would feel against his own once more. He wanted to bad to touch Draco right now, sitting right beside him yet forbidden to make contact.

"My children never mentioned you teaching in Hogwarts" Harry began, trying to strike a conversation. He really just wanted to talk; at least that's what he forced himself to believe. Even if only a little, he would love to hear that smooth velvety voice once more. His breath momentarily stopped earlier when Draco addressed him. Years after, the blonde still held the same effect on him.

"I mostly teach the higher years. The DADA professor would leave before any proper education was given to the children." His voice was dull, dead and void of emotion. "I trust you will serve a full-term this year, Potter?" There wasn't malice in the question; there wasn't spite in the tone either. But the lack of emotion in Draco's voice stung more than harsh insults.

"Let me guess" Harry stubbornly fought to maintain a light chatter between them.

"Potions" They uttered in unison. Harry blinked. A warm sensation filled his chest and the corners of his mouth folded upward. Maybe on come level, he hoped, they were still connected. He smiled brightly for the remainder of the meal; a new spark twinkled in his eyes.

The Welcoming Feast gradually ended. Uneaten food magically disappeared from the tables. The hall buzzed with noise as students piled to leave. The higher years made their way through the numerous routes to their dormitories while Prefects escorted the clueless first years to the dormitories per house. This must have been how they looked liked when they first entered the school. On the corner of his eye, he observed Draco walking to the Slytherin table. Father and son talked momentarily before leaving.

Harry followed the blonde's example. He made his way to the Gryffindor table where he was met with a smug looking James and a very surprised Albus not long after. He cocked his head to the side and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, "Uhm… surprise?" He tried weakly hoping to appease his son's emotions, but his younger son merely continued to huff.

"Why didn't you tell me you quit your job?" Albus demanded, crossing his arms in a display of defiance. His brother regarded him with a chastised expression before murmuring a quiet reprimand. "Not here, Al"

"He's right, why don't I take you my chambers and we can all talk?" Harry suggested tenderly, affectionately ruffling Al's raven hair. "What do you say?" He asked, looking over to Albus and then to James.

James gave him a chuckle. "Alright" sighing, he glanced over to his brother and waited for the younger's response. Albus lowered his shoulders and nodded in defeat. After earning his children's approval, Harry led the pair out of the Great Hall and escorted them to his chambers.

"I'll call for you sister then we can talk" Both brothers nodded. That was the start of a whole knew school year. A very different school year from what they expected.

--come back to me.

. . .

Again Platform 9 ¾

. . .

A Flashback

Tonight the sky was dim. The light coming from the new moon was barely illuminating the Hogwarts grounds. The Quidditch field felt deserted, a far cry from the student occupied stands during Quidditch matches. Everything was silent, except for the quiet howl of trees dancing with the wind. Everyone was slumbering away, tucked in their chambers or dorms—except for two. From a distance, one could make out two figures flying high above the grass. One seemed a few paces behind the other as if trying to catch up. They cared not for the world around them.

Draco and Harry were training—had been training, up until a while ago. It had started off as a friendly play of wits between the pair; playing a game of seeker against seeker always released their minds from their troubles. Hidden in the dark realms of the magical world, the dark lord was preparing for an uprising. Constantly, students were being prepared for battle by the school and sometimes by parents at home. They hold no freedom with their destinies; they were all forced to grow-up without even coming of age.

Draco zoomed above the open pitch like an eagle, robes fluttering behind him and the wind sweeping the hair away from his face. He felt like air. He was soaring through the skies, diving like there he dared death to take him yet he survived. He felt the thrill brush up his arms, enticing him further and encouraging him to keep going. At this moment, he wasn't Draco Malfoy—heir to the Malfoy name and fortune. He left those responsibilities on the ground. He felt free.

Harry couldn't remember when he stopped flying though he could remember why. One minute he was getting wind burns on his face and the next he was completely motionless—awestruck by the sight before him. This was not the first time he'd seen the other boy fly, there were far too many Quidditch games for that. However, this was the first time he'd seen the blonde fly with—without—his usual mask of competitiveness. He was speechless. Draco suddenly looked delectable.

"Beautiful" He cursed himself inwardly for the slip of tongue. The Slytherin's ears perked up at the sound. Quickly his eyes averted to the origin of the voice. Harry bit his lip, he hadn't meant to say it aloud and not he was discovered. He pressed his lips together, waiting for the insults to come his way but nothing came. Instead the blonde just drifted closer, narrowing the gap between them. His breath hitched, his palms grew sweaty and his throat was suddenly blocked by a phantom object. He stared.

Draco, for his part, was surprised at the sudden sound of Harry's voice. Actually he was more surprised about what he heard. It wasn't everyday that the Gryffindor Golden Boy would praise him so openly. He masked a faint blush while he studies his companion's features. Harry looked worried, tempting dark lips pressed together like he was waiting for something. Secretly he felt a smile grow from his chest and sneak its way onto his face in the form of a smirk. His thoughts were blurry.

Neither of them said a word as the space between them disappeared. Suddenly they were knee to knee, broom to broom; face to face and lips to lips. They shared their first high above the Quidditch pitch, in the darkness of night, with no one watching. The touch wasn't electric, it wasn't an explosion of fireworks, it didn't ignite flames of passion—it was a hum of contentment buzzing from their stomachs. Some say, it was magic.

The need for oxygen forced the boys apart. The pressure of the other's lips still lingering on theirs. Draco studied Harry's features intently, settling on those alluring green eyes and waiting for the initial reaction. Confusion—it wasn't the one Draco had been searching for. Dejectedly, he swooped to the ground, breaking into a run the second his feet touched the ground. He was a fool. Harry didn't want him.

"Draco!" Harry's voice resounded through the empty space as he struggled to keep up with his partner. "—stop being such a bloody git and come here!" breaking into a sprint to reach the blonde. The previous game was forgotten behind them along with their broomsticks. He really didn't know what was happening. The tension, the kiss—everything that stood between them; it was all unclear.

"Leave me the bloody hell alone, scarhead!" Draco yelled back with ferociousness, biting back his teeth almost like he was baring fangs. He heightened his pace when the footsteps behind him grew faster. He had let his façade slip away. His heart cried for reasons he couldn't understand. There wasn't anything between them. They were simply friend and nothing more—but the feeling of Harry's lips on his, made him want to be more.

From a small truce, came friendship and from friendship came an emotion that neither of the boys was familiar with. Even though hidden from the prying eyes of others, their relationship blossomed into something more than either had expected. The steady hum of contentment when they were together; the feeling of ease when the other was around; the anxiety that gripped them when one was in danger—all these were signs of the inevitable happening, they were falling in love. Stubborn as they are, they both kept quiet about it.

Harry was getting desperate now, trying to catch the blonde who refused to be caught. His eyes gleamed with determination. He did the only thing he thought was logical—he jumped, lunging forward and wrapping his arms around the Slytherin before the other got away. The action disrupted Draco's momentum and broke his balance, his knees buckled instantly upon impact. The force sent both males flying.

"What the—h" his sentence was cut short as they both fell, tumbling down the slope in a mass of robes and dirt. Instinctively Harry covered Draco's body with his own, wrapping arms around the pale boy. Draco suddenly found himself a whirlwind of warmth, a Harry's scent invading his senses and the Gyffindor's heartbeat thundering wildly beneath a clothes chest. The wind was knocked out of him when they first hit the ground, he was momentarily paralyzed.

They finally came to a halt. Luckily they landed on a soft patch of grass. Draco realized that he was looking up at the sky—the vast darkness was sparkling with a thousand stars. It was much more magnificent than the enchanted sky of the Great Hall. The weight on top of him barely registered until the said person began to more. His breath hitched, green eyes looked at him groggily.

They managed to land in awkward position. Draco was literally sprawled beneath Harry; his arms which he used to protect his head lay above him, his robes was forced open to reveal his school uniform and his legs were entangled by another's. Meanwhile Harry realized that he was lying on top of a certain Slytherin; both of his arms were on either side of Draco's head, his legs intertwined with his friend and a knee softly pressing on the blonde's sensitive bits.

"Uhm… caught you" Harry attempted to break the tension which was slowly rising between them. A little bruised and shaken up did wonders for the Draco whose clothes were astray, hair was disarrayed and utterly dumbfounded—Harry thought it was adorable! Draco said nothing and looked away, blushing.

"Harry" Draco began after a short lapse of silence. As tempting as this was, it was wrong. The warmth was steadily pooling on his nether regions. The gaze of Harry's eyes was too much, the proximity was even more torturous and the breath so near his lips was agonizing. "You can get off me now" He feared that if the current contact was continued, his little secret would be discovered. He fancied the Gryffindor.

Harry had already felt the heat warming up his knee. At first he forced himself to notice it but Draco said his name—it was almost a moan. He couldn't help groaning inwardly at fate. The scent of the blonde drove him insane, the feel heat from that body sneaked it was through the fabrics to his flesh, the look of lust in those silver eyes broke all of his resolve. The lion inside him awakened.

"What if I don't want to?" He asked in a sultry deepened voice. He felt the boy below him shiver and the flesh on his knee hardening even more. Draco's eyes seemed to glow, magic energy flowing around them. He felt the beginnings of his hardness and his trousers became uncomfortable. He groaned once more.

Draco's mind took a few seconds to understand. Finally he realized what the brunette had said—Harry wanted him; a tugging in his heart made him hope that Harry wanted him in the way he wanted Harry. A new found lust was rekindled. He had wanted this for so long—to touch the body that was untouchable, to claim that boy that could not be claimed and to kiss every part of than tanned skin that no one else had kissed before.

His next words were calculated. He wove his arms over Harry's shoulder and whispered in the most seductive voice that he could muster. "What are you waiting for?" He challenged with that playful hint in his voice. He licked his lips in a fashion that he knew bothered the brunette. He slid his legs wider just a little bit. "Come take me" those were the final coherent words he said before Harry lips were on his again.

The sky was dim tonight. The sky sparkled with a thousand stars while the new moon was forming. The castle grounds were empty. Everything was quiet except for the distance cries of pleasure in the darkness. Everyone was sleeping the night away—except for two people. From the distance, one would make out two figure intertwined in each other's arms. Under the watchful eyes of the forest, the two boys made love. It was their first night together as lovers.

. . .

Seasons are changing.

"I'm sorry Harry" The handsome young blonde of seventeen whispered over his shoulder. Glancing back at his lover who slumbered peacefully on the cotton pillows, he could only give a half-smile. "I—I can't" '—ruin your future' was left unsaid.

The final battle was done and won—with the dark lord gone; they could all graduate without fear of another uprising. In a matter of hours the seventh years would be participating in their last Leaving Feast as students of the school. Many amongst his year had received numerous job opportunities right after graduation. Harry was among the best and brightest, he had a promising future ahead of him—but not with Draco on his side.

What they had was physical—no words of love have ever transpired between them. Draco knew this from the start. They were two seventeen year old boys filled with rage, confusion and hormones. They didn't know how to love; they didn't understand what love is. They turned to each other for comfort, to quench their pent up desires and vent their frustrations. They would seek the other in convenience, no strings attached. This wasn't love.

It would be the last, Draco promised himself. The night of the leaving feast would be the last time they ever spend tangled together. He was after all, despite the war and everything that happened in its duration, a pureblood wizard and with it came the responsibilities of the family. He needed an heir, else god forbid, the head title of the Malfoy family name would be passed on to his squib cousin. He shuddered at the thought.

What are you talking about? A voice in his head mocked. That's not why you're leaving, you love him.

Draco shook his head. No, I don't love him. He bit back inwardly. In fact, he did love the bumbling Gryffindork. He had realized it long before their first night near the Quidditch pitch. He betrayed his family and fell for the enemy, but he didn't care; he would rather succumb to death than not love the man who slumbered beside him. He decided, in spite of the pain he would have to live through, it was better for Harry to live a normal life even with the weaselette. Because she could give Harry something he never could—a family.

Harry looked at him. There was no judgment—just acceptance of who he was, Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?" No sooner was the question asked that they heard footsteps stepping out of the hall and headed their direction. Without another thought, Draco pulled the hood over his head and began kissing the breath out of his lover. Harry's mind was clouded with thought of his fair-haired Slytherin lover who had once again proven his quick wit. "What are you doing?"

Draco merely smiled slyly, lapping a hot tongue over his bottom lip before answering. "Nothing" He answered cheekily then completely pulled away. "I'll see you" Draco said, giving Harry one last peck on the lips before once against disappearing into the hall. He kept walking though his heat wanted him to turn back to face the man he longed for and his legs were only too willing to comply. He met no one in the eye and made his ways to the Slytherin dungeons.

When the feast was done and the students were allowed to leave. Everyone exchanged their last farewells and said their parting words; Harry was amongst them. The students dispersed and he saw Harry out into the platform—waiting. His heart perked up at the thought. Maybe Harry was waiting for him? Hopes filled his insides but it died as quickly as it sparked. He watched in silence as the weaselette approached his lover.

"Harry" her voice called out before touching his shoulder. "The train will be leaving soon, we better step inside" she informed him. Harry turned around and smiled back. The hand on his shoulder dropped; she extended a hand towards him and he silently smiled in return before taking it. Hand in hand they walked into the train's cabins. Harry wasn't waiting for him; he was waiting for her—the sixth year Gryffindor chaser.

When Draco left Hogwarts that night, he not only left his heart crushed and torn. He was sure, it would never be fully completed and he would never be the same. He lost Harry, the one person who saw him for who he truly was. Harry would definitely want a family; he deserved it after all he's been through. Draco left the memories and an unspoken promise—he would do anything for Harry's happiness.

He slipped inside one of the cabins before the train embarked, uncaring which one it was. There he unknowingly met his future wife. She merely observed him with careful eyes when he took a seat in front of her. She said nothing, shrugged and turned back her gaze to the window. Her honey blonde hair was swept to one side, cascading like a golden waterfall on her shoulder. She was the first female to brush him aside.

The girl had a curious aura about her. She didn't ogle him like so many of her sex usually do; she didn't jeer nor did she attempt to even talk. She simply stared out the window in utter silence, legs crossed in front of her. She acted like she was better than the other students but he couldn't say she was arrogant. He studied her briefly before he too looked out the window in defeat.

Through the train ride home he would learn many things about this interesting female. Her name was Astoria Greengrass—sixth year, pureblood, Ravenclaw and had an elder sister in Slytherin who died during the final battle. Draco muttered a soft apology but the girl merely shrugged him off. They continued to sit in silence.

"So" she began, a hint of interest playing in her voice. "You're running away?" She asked, almost knowingly. It felt like she knew him or, at the least, read him like a book. Draco had never let his mask slip once after boarding. He was slightly amused.

"Yeah" he admitted honestly, it's not like she would remember this. She wouldn't remember him anyway. After they arrived at King's cross they would part ways, never to hear from the other again. So what was the use of lying? He shrugged his shoulder, ending his answer at that one word. To his surprise, Astoria giggled.

"It would never strike me that a Slytherin could be so honest" She explained a few minutes later. She gave him a soft apologetic smile when he began to scowl. "It isn't my place to judge. After all, you of all people would know that not everyone is the house they belong to."

Draco just nodded. "So who are you running away from?" Her question didn't come as a surprise; somehow he had learned to read her too.

"No one" he answered back, deciding to end the conversation there. He feigned sleepiness, cocking his head sideward like he was dozing off.

"Bullocks" He heard her whisper under her breath but she ceased her prying. It looks like his planned worked. But she resumed talking a few moments later. "Whoever he was, I'm sure you loved him very much to let him go… I bet you wanted him to have a family, didn't you?" From his seat across her, Draco didn't even flinch like he was truly asleep but his inside were going wild with bewilderment.

When she did open up, she told him that she would soon have a fiancé—a pureblood betrothed. Since her sister, Daphne, could no longer carry the bloodline, the responsibility was passed on to her. Draco understood her all too well. Soon he will be expected to find himself a wife, pureblood preferable to continue the purity of the bloodline. Hopefully it wasn't someone who was dimwitted; it should be someone who could be his equal and could somehow understand him. She was sitting right across him.

Astoria entered the train hoping for a good summer's vacation, time for herself to mourn over her sister's death. She didn't expect for Draco Malfoy to bend on one knee and ask for her hand in marriage. When she left King's Cross that evening, she had the Malfoy ring slipped on her finger and a handsome fiancé to call her own. The Daily Prophet had a field day.

. . .

Waves are crashing.

Astoria was a good wife. They married in a small private ceremony at Astoria's family home with only Lucius in attendance. Both families were astounded and prided themselves with the out-of-the-blue nuptials. Nonetheless, it was a thorn removed from their worries; now all they had to do was pray to Merlin for an heir. Draco, as promised, allowed Astoria to finish her schooling at Hogwarts despite the disagreement of both parents. Six years later, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born.

It had been nineteen years since he last stepped onto King's Cross station; nineteen years since he last saw Harry. On the platform 9 ¾, the Hogwarts train was ready to bring in the newest group of young ones to the castle grounds. It was autumn, the first of September was crisp and golden as an apple. Astoria was beside him as they walked. Scorpius was trailing a few steps behind them, pushing his trolley with enthusiasm.

"Anxiety doesn't suit you, dear" his wife's soft whisper came from beside him. His face was placid; he merely cocked an eyebrow in response. Yet she only smile back knowingly again. After years of marriage, he still wasn't used to her wittiness—no wonder she had been in Ravenclaw! She managed to decipher his mast with a glance, reading him like an open parchment. He shrugged before surveying the platform—then he saw the unmistakable mop of raven hair. Harry stood some fifty feet away, surrounded by a flock of red heads.

He sighed, some things never change. Just like the clenching gut-wrenching feeling that made him sick to his stomach when he caught sight of Ginny Weasley gossiping in the background. He felt a hand stroke up his arm, in a display of spousal affection. "Be polite" she told him, her lips barely moving as she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Almost mechanically, he complied. Lowering his head slightly, he gave Harry a curt nod before pulling his family into the crowds.

The time came for the train to depart for Hogwarts and, with the last of farewells said, the new generation was sent off to a new year's adventure in school. They left he platform before people began to disperse. His allowed his eyes to linger a few seconds longer on the area where he had seen Harry and his children. Harry now had the one thing he couldn't give—a family. At least the man was finally happy.

With a crack, he side-apparated with his wife to wizarding London. There was a muted tug on his belly when the pair landed gracefully on the ground. Astoria was silent since the encounter. She observed him with careful eyes as they separated their linked arms. Like a gentleman, he offered her his arm again while they walked. She accepted with a gentle smile. Together they walked around London like they frequently did. It was a comfortable silence.

"So" she began, a hint of interest playing in her voice. "You're running away again?" She asked, almost knowingly. But unlike before, during their conversation on the train, she did know him. As his wife, she was proud to read his stoic face like an open book. Draco was comfortable with it. They've developed an easy friendship that made their marriage enjoyable.

"Yeah" he admitted honestly, allowing her to reach out to him. They had gotten to know each other over the course of their marriage. She was a good wife but he didn't love her; she was aware of that. He had tried his best to be a good husband to her. She was thankful for that. She didn't love him either. What they had was companionship and equal respect for each other. More so now that they've established a strong friendship. It wasn't a surprise when Astoria giggled—die-hard romantic.

"Draco, I do believe that honestly is unbecoming of a Slytherin" She stated in a matter-of-fact voice but Draco knew she was jesting. He rolled his eyes uncharacteristically with a hint of a grin playing on his features. She gave him a cheeky smile, trying to imitate the Malfoy sneer. She was a Malfoy now, after all, even for once in her life she needed to master the expression. She did so with much difficulty; her face was simply too gentle.

"Why, darling, I on the other hand believe that you of all should know well enough than to judge a person by their house. I am no longer a snake in the dungeon as you are a raven in its cage" Draco retorted back in amusement. They had this small game of wits often; it was like a personal jest between them—they made fun of the circumstances which they met under.

"Bullocks" He heard her whisper under her breath while she smiled knowingly. "Draco, as much as I do love you, I must ask. When do you plan on ceasing this childish game of cat and mouse?" Her tone grew serious and her voice grew soft. He knew this was hurting her as well. He could not think of another word to say, instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed. For Astoria, that was enough.

. . .

Stars are falling.

Autumn was approaching earlier that year, not just for the Potters. Draco found the seasons were shifting far too fast for his liking. Once again Scorpius would be sent away for another year of school at Hogwarts. However this year proved to be different than the last. Along with Scorpius letter of requirements, an envelope addressed to him with the school seal also arrived. It was a letter from his godfather inviting him to perform teaching duties as the Potions Professor.

"What's the matter, dear?" Astoria inquired from beside him the day the said letter arrived, worry clearly evident in her voice. "A letter from Severus?" Through the years she, as his wife of his beloved godson, had gotten to know the once spiteful headmaster.

"It's nothing" He muttered back, closing the letter and acting as if it was nothing. She merely glanced at him curiously, peering over his side to catch a glimpse of the parchment. Witty as she was, Draco did not give her the satisfaction of reading the letter. She pouted at him as they walked into the library; this conversation would to happen on another occasion.

"What would you say if I were to quit my job?" He quipped up out-of-the-blue as the pair walked along Diagon Alley. It was sometime in July, a couple of months too early before the back-to-school rush that usually happened prior to the beginning of classes. They preferred it this way, not to many witches and wizards who were still blinded with the bias against the Dark Lord. There was still quite a handful who jeered, spitted and acted utterly barbaric at purebloods that were once acquainted with the said man.

"Hmm?" Astoria peered up from beside him as they took a turn towards the Quality Quidditch Supplies. They wanted to buy Scorpius a new broom. The said boy needed a fallback broom after coming dangerously close to breaking his Nimbus this summer. "I will say that it's about time, dear. Only Merlin knows how I could stand your relentless complaining about work!" She answered humorously.

"I detest that!" He stated from the end of the isle. Clever as she was, Astoria was never one to like Quidditch. She like flying fair enough but never play the game. She left the selections of brooms to Draco. For the rest of the afternoon, they strode along Diagon Alley to purchase more supplies. Their son rejoined them after getting his new robes fitted from Madam Malkin's.

Next September arrived. Draco was more comfortable when they stepped onto the platform. He'd been teaching in Hogwarts for almost a year now; a very hard year under the apprenticeship of his Godfather. His first year had been very challenging for him, he had learned to master all of the Headmaster's potions, even the ones invented by Snape himself. But he enjoyed it no less. He had always been fond of Potions since his student years and the teaching position gave him a chance to relive the enjoyment.

"You seem different" his wife mused from beside him. "Something interesting about this year?" She politely inquired, feeling the dissimilarity from her husband's earlier anxious state. Draco thought for a moment before shaking his head. Was there really something different? No. It was just; he could feel that this year would be slightly more interesting than the ones before. Though, he couldn't point it out with a finger what exactly the reason was.

"Papa" Scorpius's voice cut off further conversations as the couple turned towards their only child. "It would be great if you finally taught us this year" He piped up, eyeing the crowds and searching for students in his year. His attempts were futile, there were too many people, too thick a crowd for him to identify anyone he knew without casting a charm to levitate himself. Draco raised an elegant eyebrow.

"Aren't you a tad bit too eager to have me teaching you?" He questioned with a playful look. "I'll twice harder on you, ya know, because I'm acutely aware of your capabilities as a potions brewer." Scorpius fought back a pout, Malfoys still do not pout in public. But he knew his father meant well. He did have a couple of extra hours practicing his brewing style over the summer and realized that, like his father, he had a talent at it.

"I don't believe out son needs any special treatment" Astoria said in amusement. She prided herself in being a Ravenclaw and surely she should have passed some of her genes to Scorpius. If not for appearances, because the platinum tresses and silvers eyes clearly came from her husbands, she must have given him some of her smarts.

"You've got to agree with mum there" Scorpius stated in a matter-of-fact tone. It sounded a bit arrogant but who could blame him? He was the spawn of a Malfoy and arrogance was well-known trait of the family. "With both of your brains combined, I'm one heck of a smart kid" He wasn't kidding either. He rained top of his class with Rose Weasley a few points behind. He never gave her a chance to steal that title away from him. The trio shared a fairly light conversation after that.

"Try not to be a snobbish git, dear" Astoria reminded him just as a new group of redheads entered their line of sight. Amidst that sea of red, he spotted a pair of dark haired brunettes. Harry looked like he was talking animatedly with his eldest son, James. He hadn't changed one bit; messy just-got-shagged hair, disgusting ill-fitting round frames, the infamous lighting bolt scar and that lopsided smile that gave Draco butterflies..

"Draco dear, drooling in public is unacceptable" His wife told him in good-nature, forcing him to pull back from his thoughts. She had that expressive smile on her face just like when they had first met. Briefly their son was forgotten. Draco watched from across the platform as Ginny took her place on Harry's side. The two shared a few words before Harry linked their hands together, intertwining them. He gritted his teeth.

"Growling is one, but snarling is highly unbecoming, dear" Astoria reminded him. This time, she placed a hand on his sleeve, physically trying to pull him back into his senses. This time it worked. He gave her an apologetic smile which she returned warmly. He knew he was accept, but it never crossed his mind that he was that upset—to the point where his verbally growled, almost. He blinked once, twice, before finally looking back in Potter's direction.

Silver met greet. Just like it had the last time they met, Harry's eyes caught his and he felt a pooling of emotion in his chest. Astoria placed a hand above his heart knowingly, unabashed by her display of affection. She traced the direction of her husband's eyes and caught a red-haired girl smile in her direction. That was clearly unexpected but she returned the gesture. The thundering noise of the Hogwarts express was deafening as it came. Draco sent a curt nod in the brunette's direction before focusing once more on his own child.

"Why don't you ride the train this year, Papa?" Scorpius half-inquired and half-suggested it just as he was about to board the train. His father opted to give him a look, instead of answering but the young blonde persisted. "Do you honestly want your son to beg for an answer?" This time, Draco nearly choked on his own saliva. He had not anticipated that. Fine then; if he must play this game of wit then he would play it by his own rules.

"Have you seen any professors ride on the express?" He questioned with a characteristic smirk beginning to form on his lips while he waited for his son to respond.

"No" The young blonde replied after some thought. He'd never seen any of his professors on the journey to Hogwarts. "But it's not forbidden either" he spat back.

"True, but in all honesty Scorp, you remember my distaste for travels via trains, yes?" Draco sighed, thinking of another reason to give his overly curious boy. One day that curiosity would get the best of him. So far there were no incidents to count except for a few duels and hex-firing.

"You survived Hogwarts" his retorted. This was where Astoria's wit played its part. The showcase of wit was definitely a trait inherited from his mother. Draco found it quite amusing.

"Exactly, I've had my fair share riding the awful train" He spoke "The ride is boorishly long and snail-paced. I'll be out of my mind with all you buggers running about from cabin to cabin!"

"You didn't seem to mind it before" Astoria countered this time instead of Scorpius. "After all, this boorish train—" she began to explain "—was where we met, dear" she finished with a tender smile at her husband, ending the conversation between father and son. Draco shot her an appreciative look and shooed Scorpius into the cabin.

"He is watching" She told him after they said their final farewell. It would be Christmas break before they see their son again. In a few hours Draco would have to leave too, so he could have enough time before the Opening Feast was started. Draco hummed from beside her, trying to appease the clenching of his heart as he saw Harry and Ginny out on the other side of the platform. He tore his eyes way from the sight, draped an arm around his wife's waist and let them away from the station.

"I'm going to miss having you around" Astoria admitted honestly as soon as they apparated back to the Manor. He still held her and for that she was grateful. "The Manor would feel dreadfully lonely without you around" She stated as she leaned into his embrace. They touched often, but it wasn't at all sexual. They had a platonic relationship; she loved him and he loved her back but it wasn't in the romantic sense.

"Of course you would, darling" Draco stated proudly "You must be a raving lunatic if you didn't!" It was a comical statement. He said it to cheer her up upon hearing the sadness in her voice. He really didn't want to leaver her all alone; he really did enjoy her company. But she refused to stay with him in Hogwarts because of the terrible memories from the war. Tenderly, he allowed for his chin to lie on top of her shoulder.

"You can be one egotistical bugger, you know that right?" She laughed, unsuccessfully trying to hide the melancholy that she felt inside. Draco clearly read it in her voice.

"You're welcome to visit me anytime if you get too lonely" Draco opened, guilt welling up in his gut for having to leave her. Astoria sighed heavily before finally nodding. It was Draco's turn to smile; at least, it was something to pacify the guiltiness rumbling through him. "It would be like I never left!" Astoria giggled again.

"He seems interesting" she said moments later with curiousity once again playing in her voice. She didn't need to say the name for Draco to understand. They both understood who she was talking about. "Are you still running away?" She wondered out loud deliberately for her husband to hear her. But the man only shrugged in response. By now she should already know the answer.

"It's not running away when no one is chasing, darling" He stated sounding sure, convincing himself more than he was her. They always had this conversation after sending Scorpius off to Hogwarts. He was acutely aware that in spite of the years that passed, he was still extremely head over heals for the once Gryffindor boy. His wife also became aware of this but never held it against him. In fact, she wanted him to him to pursue his feelings.

"He seems interested" She said it like she knew Potter. Astoria was many things; one of them was being perceptive. She is one of the few people who could read Draco with a glance. When the words passed her lips, she observed her husband visibly take in a deep breath. She knew this was affecting him too. Always, always after their encounters with the dark brunette and his family, her husband would be a mess of emotions.

"He's happily married, darling, with three children to boot. I am happy for him."

"Bullocks" He heard her whisper under her breath while she smiled gently. "Draco, you don't honestly believe that… Why don't you consider playing cat instead of the mouse instead?" Her tone grew serious and her voice grew soft. He knew this was hurting her as well. She took a step behind him, wrapping slender arms around his figure. Draco took comfort in her embrace.

. . .

—all for us.

"—without further introductions, I'd like you all to welcome Hogwart's newest addition to the teaching staff, Mr. Harry James Potter." Draco almost dropped his fork when he heard Snape's announcement. The Gryffindor table was the loudest to cheer. From his seat, he could spot several red haired children shouting enthusiastically "He will be teaching Defense against the Dark Arts. I trust you all will give him due respect."

He couldn't believe his ears; Harry Bloody Potter was on this year's teaching staff. The said man made his entrance through the small door behind the staff table. He has never been one to like flashy entrances, Draco learned that long ago. Harry wasn't what he expected from the boy-who-lived stories which he heard whilst growing up. On the contrary, Harry was never arrogant unless provoked, he was never rude unless insulted, and he never fired a hex unless he was incited. He was a Gryffindor by heart.

Draco nearly tasted the lump in his throat. Wood had stopped talking from beside him. He eyed Harry from his seat, watching as the man made his way to the table. He forced himself to remain composed, all the while fighting back emotions that were threatening to break through his carefully placed façade. In a few seconds, there he was, the man of his dreams, was standing right in front of him. He could faintly hear the brunette striking up a conversation with the man seated beside him.

"You must remember Malfoy then. You two are in the same year, right?" The current Transfigurations professor's words barely registered him his head. The question hit him on the head like a painful bludger. What if Harry did forget him? He went away and married the weaselette right after her Leaving Feast at Hogwarts, didn't he? He swallowed hard, intently keen on observing the brunette in front of him—waiting, almost too anxiously, for his response.

"Yes" A wave of relief washed through him briefly before he was caught by tantalizing green eyes. Harry's next words were unimportant. All Draco would think about were those eyes—his eyes, the eyes which replayed endlessly during his sleepless night. There were nights when he would see those same pools of emerald when his eyelids shut. It was those night he missed curling up to a hard, warm and sated body of his lover. But sadly, those were gone now.

"Potter" 'Harry' he said flatly, forcing the quiver out of his voice as he said the name. He nodded in greeting, giving himself an excuse to look away from that intense gaze. All the feeling he bottled up over the years was suddenly opened. He was unsure how long he could keep his emotions in place. Harry offered him a hand but he didn't take it. In truth, Draco yearned for Harry's touch more than anything in the world but he wouldn't dare voice it out. It was his decision after all—to end it.

"My children never mentioned you teaching in Hogwarts" Harry began, trying to strike a conversation. He really was in no mood for talk. Actually all he wanted was to finish his meal, head to his rooms and retract all the thoughts which were threatening to spill. He shivered, hearing the brunette smooth, low, almost hypnotizing voice call out to him. It reminded him so much of what his deeply yearned for. Years after, Harry still held the same effect on him.

"I mostly teach the higher years. The DADA professor would leave before any proper education was given to the children." He spoke in eloquent, flat, perfectly practice Malfoy fashion. He didn't trust himself without his wall at the moment. "I trust you will serve a full-term this year, Potter?" Instantly, he noticed Harry's frame sag a little lower, saddened by his lack of emotions.

"Let me guess" –Ah, yes. He would not be Harry Potter if he wasn't as stubborn as he was. It was the same stubborn scarhead from twenty one years ago; the same thickheaded Gryffindor who didn't know when to give up. Draco loved him for it.

"Potions" They uttered in unison, Draco trying to ease the man out of his misery. He blinked; a warmth filling his chest but he kept his face passice. Maybe on come level, he hoped, they were still connected. He smiled inwardly to himself, butterflies flapping inside his stomach. They ate in comfortable silence after that.

The Welcoming Feast gradually ended. Uneaten food magically disappeared from the tables. The hall buzzed with noise as students piled to leave. The higher years made their way through the numerous routes to their dormitories while Prefects escorted the clueless first years to the dormitories per house. Draco stood up then moved towards to the Slytherin table just like he did the year before.

"How was the meal?" He inquired lightly, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. Scorpius bade a quick goodbye to his housemates then stood respectfully. He stood only up to Draco's chest, but he was only in fourth year. In a few years he would spurt up and reach his full height. That's was a long way from the present.

"Ours is always better" He answered cheekily, earning a smirk from his father. He grinned back.

"Anything interesting as of late?" After tonight, it would hard to find time together again. He was instructed to teach a full load this school year; all the year levels will be taught by him since Professor Snape was fully concentrated on his duties as Headmaster. Between his times teaching and grading papers, there would be barely enough time for decent conversation.

"Nothing much" Scorpius shrugged. "Al seems quite shocked that his dad's on the teaching staff this year" He stated, pointing to the said brunette who was making his way to Harry. Draco watched in amusement, the boy was definitely a spawn of Harry Potter. No one could pull off the untamed hair look and still look presentable!

"Albus" Draco tried the name on his lips. "Albus Severus perhaps?" his son nodded. From the tone his father used, clearly the elder blonde wanted the details. Did he realize that fast? He shook his head, pushing the paranoid thoughts that flooded his head and got to work.

"Albus Severus Potter named after the Headmaster himself or so he says." He ended there but Draco gave him a look to continue. He crossed his arms and huffed but continued. "—3rd year, same as me. Slytherin, if you haven't noticed his tie. He sleeps two doors away from my dorms. He's twit at Potion, but makes up for it in flying. He's a great flyer, dad; I bet if he wanted to, he could land the Seeker position on the team this year."

"You seem fond of him, Scorp" Draco teased, just to see his son's reaction. The boy stopped mid-sentence and formed a look of disgust. Or at least the boy tried, Draco remember that exact same look years before when he was first confronted with the fact that he liked Harry. "You fancy him"

"I'm not bent!" The boy fought back "I do not fancy bloody blokes!" But the more he denied, the more it fueled Draco to annoy him. It was always a habit of him—trying to annoy Scorpius almost as much as he used to taunt Harry. His son was absolutely hilarious when angered, he would lost his Malfoy mask and wear his emotions on his sleeve. Draco couldn't wait to prove how wrong the flustering boy was.

"Of course you aren't bent. Never said you were" Scorpius fumed some more. "A man digs his own grave the more he denies"

. . .

A Flashback

There was a crescent moon present tonight but neither person in the secluded room seemed to care. Somewhere along the shadowy deserted corridors of Hogwarts, they found a secret chamber hidden behind thick curtains and protected by colossal giant-sized suits of armor. In the middle of the bedroom, mounted against the large-windowed wall, lay a large four poster bed elegantly draped in thin translucent curtains. Peering closer, two silent figures rested under the cream colored covers unmoving.

Harry and Draco relaxed in each others arms—uncaring, for the moment, about the impending war that endangered their lives. The rise of the Dark Lord was coming, both knew it; hence, they choose to bask in a few hours of solitude for themselves. They were wrapped in comfortable silence, only the mingling of their breaths echoing the room. Neither was sure about their survival after the battle but they would be forced to face that reality soon.

It was nearly midnight but they paid it no regard. By this time, Prefects should have finished their nightly rounds and all professors should have completed their task of strengthening up the barriers. With the impending danger that surrounded the entire wizarding community, there was no room left for sleep—students and faculty alike were busy protecting their own. The said pair was aware of this; they were here for that sole reason—protecting their beloved, but neither would admit it.

"Harry" Draco spoke up as he caressed the boy's head towards him. There was no hint of visible change but he could sense the change in his partner's state. Harry merely snuggle closer to him, wrapping tan arms tighter along his back like the Gryffindor was afraid that he would fade away. He allowed a smile to play on his features and he too shifted closer. During these times, they were left unguarded. They forewent the vulnerability as long as they had one another.

"Gryffindor barmcake" Draco murmured, pressing a kiss on the brunette's messy tresses. "I know your blithering faking it" He proceeded to slightly poke the stubborn boy who was using him as a human life-sized teddy bear. Over the past months they have been doing this in secret; meeting when no one was looking and sometimes even exchanging glances when they were alone. There was a defined attraction between them; neither spoke about it. Bloody fools for letting go of their shot at happiness.

Harry continued to lay on his lover's chest, mesmerized by the blonde's slow and sturdy heartbeat. He loved listening to the steady thudding, it was a reminder that he was alive—that Draco was still alive, they were both alive and together. He shuddered at the thought of it being another way, he didn't like it. Always, he always hated the thought of his beloved dying. The dark would rise soon enough, they would face the war and no one was certain of the outcome.

"Draco?" Harry called out to his Slytherin lover as he curled further onto the boy's side. He received the calming sensation of Draco's fingers carding through his hair as a response; he approved of the substitute. "What are we doing?" He asked in a very, very quiet voice—almost like he was afraid of the answer. What were they doing? They weren't lovers, friends maybe; friends with benefits but not lovers. They were both keen on keeping the certain L-word at bay during their love making.

"Well…" Draco began to speak in a teasing manner, unconsciously pressing his lips on the Gryffindor's head. "—from what I can see, scarhead, we're currently lying in bed basking in the afterglow of a marvelous round of mind-blowing sex. Would you confirm my statement is correct?" He mused lightly, earning a slap on the shoulder and a dark red blush on his partner's cheeks.

"Draco!" Harry squeaked. "That wasn't what I meant and you know it, slimy git!" Harry almost laughed if not for the embarrassment. Draco had a playful side; always after they made love, they would lie together and join in on light-hearted banter. It wasn't really fighting; it was more of teasing with words as their muscles rejoiced after a hard work out.

"Hey!" The blond protested once. "That was once! And only because the mischievous Weasel hexed me!"Both laughed in unison, more Harry actually than Draco, at the memory. Draco liked this; he like laughing with Harry, he liked talking to Harry, he liked teasing Harry and he liked making love to Harry—more than he would ever admit. Hell, he liked Harry—no, not like; it was love.

"Come on then" Harry pursued, climbing over his bed partner's legs. The brunette successfully straddled the other. It was his turn to tease; slowly, sensually he pressed his lips on the pale neck, licking a wet stripe of saliva before taking a sensitive earlobe in his mouth—he sucked.

"Harry—y" Draco barely bit out the moan, arching his back to feel Harry's tanned chest on his. "What-t a-are y-you-u do-ing-g?" He stuttered out while Harry's lips attacked his flesh. "Oh gods!" He moaned into the torturous touch. Harry's wet muscle massaged down in neck in swirls while tanned hands glided over his body like he was a work of art. He succumbed to the warm body above him.

"Giving you a night you would never forget" came the reply. Harry was one who kept his promises. He made love to Draco over and over through the course of the night. The blonde made love to him as well. All they had was each other. All they had was tonight. All they had was this feeling that neither one could verbally admit. They had a lot of things but they never reached for their shot at happiness.

"After the war" Harry pondered loudly while his blonde lover snuggled to his size. Draco hummed in reaction, moving closer still. But Harry didn't continue, instead he pressed his lips together and said nothing. Minutes passed and Draco began to worry, he peeked open a sleepy eye to see Harry's worried expression. He was shot by an arrow of guilt.

"Harry" He called his lover, draping a pale hand over the brunette's cheek and forcing the man to look at him. He saw sadness, deep sadness in those green pools of emerald. "What do you want to do— " he paused, searching for his next words. "—after the war is over?"

When Harry saw those silver eyes, he realized what he had been longing for his entire life. He voiced it out. "I want to live with you." He declared, covering the cool hand on his cheek with his warm ones. "Draco, let's start a family"

Darco's breath hitched after hearing the words 'with you'. Immediately, his eyes sparkled with excitement while his heart fluttered with a thousand butterflies. He was over filled with happiness, hearing Harry say those words. But the only thing he heard next was 'family' and it broke his heart. He could never give Harry a family—not a real one born of both their flesh anyway. A nauseating sensation churned in his stomach. He can't do that to Harry—he can't take away what the man he loved wanted the most, a family.

"Make love to me first" He half-pleaded and half-demanded, silently praying that the brunette didn't hear the crack in his voice. "More" he begged, wanting to remember all of it. He flicked the lights open so that he could watch—watch as Harry made love to him. He wanted to remember every single detail about this night. He would etch the memory in his mind. This would be the last time they shared a bed. It would be their last night together.

'I love you' He wanted to whisper over and over again but he did not dare speak, afraid it would break the magic. 'I love you, Harry James Potter' He let tears fall amidst the throws of ecstasy.

There was a crescent moon present tonight but neither person in the secluded room cared. Somewhere along the shadowy the deserted chambers was made into their own private sanctuary. Here they would seek each other's comfort. They've been meeting here for almost half the year; it was filled with the objects they collected together. In the middle of the bed two bodies lay intertwined, moaning in the passion that they had with one another. Crying out the emotion that they didn't dare speak of.

. . .

All that I'm after is a life full of laughter.

Gryffindor Golden Boy and Slytherin Ice Prince—they both had a reputation back in their days at school. Everyone knew who they were; one was destined to be the champion of light while the other was the prodigy of the Death Eaters. They were on opposite sides of the flied from the start. They were infamous for their childhood rivalry; from taunts to hexes to fights in the girl's lavatories. Clearly, no one expected what came twenty years later. They were now co-workers, both professors, working in the school they once attended.

Draco was currently grading a towering stack of 4th year essays when a knock came through his door. "Come in" He invited absent-mindedly, uncaring who the person was. It was most probably a student from the class he had just dismissed, coming to ask him to help. But there was something odd; the footsteps were heavier, sturdier, and stronger. It was footsteps definitely belonging to someone much older than his 2nd year class. He looked up, only to be met by pools of ever green.

"Potter" He breathily acknowledge without much thought. Mentally he kicked himself for being such an imbecile. It had been more than nineteen years, twenty years even! Why couldn't he move on? Then all of a sudden, the man of his dreams pops into his life again as a co-professor in Hogwarts! Oh the irony of lady luck. "What can I do for you?" He coughed out, trying to sound professional.

"I dropped bye to say Hello" Harry said lamely, shifting a foot behind his other ankle and scratched his cotton covered heal unconsciously. This was more awkward than he imagined and he imagined this more than a million times in his head. "So... erm… Hello"

Draco visibly sighed, taking in a large breath before he uttered his next words. "Potter" He began. "I don't if age had diluted your skill for thinking but as you can see—" he pointed to the stack threatening to topple over from sheer height. "—I've got quite a handful of papers I need to be attending to." He massaged his temples, acting stressed, trying to shoo Harry away from the room but the brunette didn't budge.

Draco was particularly nasty when he was upset. He would taunt, goad and ridicule anyone who dared come to him at a bad time. This wasn't predominantly a bad time; it was simply the wrong person. Harry arrived barely a week ago and the blonde was still adjusting to his ex-lover's presence and the atmosphere that it created around the castle. He hadn't meant to sound like a jerk—he was just being a Malfoy, in his own way.

Harry scowled. What was he expecting; an opened-armed welcome from the man that abandoned him all those years ago? No, not really. A pleasant greeting, some time, maybe a bit of catching up or explaining what transpired between them before their Leaving Feast happened; anything but the insulting professionalism that Draco showed him. It felt—cold and it chilled him to the core.

"Well… I uhm…" Stubborn Harry, always a Gyffindor; he attempted to continued the conversation. He fidgeted in his spot. "I'm barely here a week and we start fighting again" He stated, this time his voice had grown serious. That tone made Draco look up. The man only used the tone on him once before and that was during the war when Harry literally ordered him to stay out of range.

"Potter" Draco quipped up. Barely ten words from the DADA professor and he was a bumbling mess for words. 'Bloody Hell' He cursed himself for being so, so—easy. "Potter… it's not that I want to fight, honestly" He bit back the last word, he really was being honest and he prayed to the gods that Harry believed him. "It's just I have tons of paperwork today"

Harry gave Draco a curious eye from where he was standing. There was a high pile of parchment on the blonde's table. He sighed before admitting the other man was right. "Alright. I'm sorry for being a bother. I'll go now." He announced before turning his heel and walking back the same way he was in.

"Potter wait" Draco's words stopped him. He glanced over his shoulder to see the older version of the boy he once loved staring at him. Guild had welled up in Draco's chest the moment he heard those dejected words come out of Harry's lips. His heart cried for him to beg Harry to come back but his pride wouldn't allow it. It was too soon. He understood; they both needed time.

"Please, do come back after I'm done" Draco let the words slip before he could stop himself. The statement sounded more like a question; he was asking Harry to visit him again. Would it really be all that bad? To open the bridge that they had?

"A cup of tea after dinner, maybe?" He absently bided. Thank heavens the man agreed with a nod! His heart sped up, leaping hopefully when the brunette smiled and nodded. He missed that smile to very much; he couldn't help but smile back. The rest of the words seemed to be blurred as the thudding sounds on his chest became louder.

"It sounds fantastic" Harry paused, catching the blonde's eye before asking. "Is it still Jasmine?" It was a question purely out of curiosity. If he could recall it right; in mornings during the latter part of his seventh year, his nights would be cooed by the soothing smell of Jasmine tea and the intoxicating scent of Draco as he came out of the shower. 'No, Bad Harry' He scolded himself.

It took Draco a few seconds for the words to register and make sense. He faintly heard the word 'Jasmine' as the Gryffindor ended the question. There was another set of feelings whirling around him; it was happy, It was bubbly and it felt like butterflies in his abdomen. All these years and Harry stilled remembered! It was kind of touching.

"It is" he concluded just as the other began to squirm. Harry sighed in relief; for a moment, he thought that he might have said the red tea. But he doubted it. He could remember that pleasing aroma miles away that's why he could never touch the stuff at home. Instead, he opted for coffee—dark black coffee when he was trying to repress memories. With another shudder, he turned his hells and continued on his way.

"Draco" he called out just as half his body was out the door. "It's Harry" he corrected before complete disappearing from sight and closing the door behind him. What class did he have next? Ah—yes, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs. 6th year if he remembered correctly.

"Harry" Draco whispered the name from inside the office. It was a name he had wanted to day for so long.

. . .

I'm thinking that all that still matters is love ever after.

"Darco?" Harry called out as he stepped into the threshold of the blonde's private chambers without knocking. He'd done this so many times now; much more times than he could count will both hands. He'd been here numerous occasions for the past month. There were no platinum locks inside the receiving area. He peered deeper into the chambers, trying to find his companion.

They'd fallen into an easy routine after the first awkward encounter. After dinner, Harry would quickly finish the remaining papers from the afternoon, drop by the Gryffindor tower to visit James and Lily especially since the young girl was still adjusting, and check-up on his Albus in the Slytherin dorms before finally stopping by Draco's chambers for the nightly cup of tea. He was admittedly a little late this evening, after the spectacle in the Gryffindor dorms care of James, who undoubtedly inherited it from his namesake, with a bag of Fred and George's indoor fireworks. He had to deduct points after that.

"Draco, are you in here?" He shouted through the empty space so that maybe somehow the man would hear him but still no response came. He faintly made out the sounds of waters coming from the bedroom. Ahh yes, Draco did have a habit of showering at night. Images suddenly began to invade his mind at the thought—Draco's pale body under the thundering drops of the showers which were magically charmed to produce the right temperature.

'Shit Harry' He cursed inwardly. 'This is no the time to fantasize about your friends' –very hot friends, he reminded himself. He shook his head. Wait a tick; he was listening to the man showering! Albeit he was actually enjoying him. "Shit!" He groaned out, too loud for his liking. The sounds of water instantly halted and he was met face to face with a very wet, freshly showered and mouthwatering Draco Malfoy standing a foot away—half-naked with only a tower slung around his slim waist.

"What the bloody hell… Harry?" Draco barely finished his sentence. He on the other hand was greeted by a flustering, blushing, stuttering Harry Potter standing near his bed with his mouth gaping open. From the looks of it, he just came out of a fireworks display. His robes were powdery, his glasses were dirty and his hair was sticking up in twenty different places. "My god, what happened to you?"

Harry swallowed hard. He could feel another part of him reacting as well. He tried to stifle back a chuckle. "James got hold of Weasley Indoor Fireworks—again" He tried explaining lamely. The display caused the blonde to explode in fits of laughter. Draco couldn't help it; the look the brunette was currently sporting reminded him so much of their days in Hogwarts. Sometimes, Harry would come running to see him every single night despite the circumstances.

'Still the same bloody Gryffindor' Draco inwardly mused. "You look more like you were the fireworks and not caught in them" He teased, readjusting the towel slung loosely around his hips. "Here" He handed Harry a soft dark red colored towel.

"Thanks" Harry muttered, gratefully taking the offered cloth from the blonde. He quickly proceeded to wipe the remaining power from his face, neck and arms. But he really wanted to wipe it on the creamy white skin in front of him. He held back the idea and pushed back all his thoughts to the farthest ends of his brain. That was the least he could do to maintain decent appearances.

The Potions professor cleared his throat. "Do you mind waiting in the reception?" Harry quickly nodded, then scurried away out the bedroom—cursing himself for thinking dirty thought all the way.

Draco reappeared a few minutes later, emerging from the bedroom dressed in a pair of cotton pajamas and a light white v-neck t-shirt. He padded over to Harry who was currently resting on of his plush dark green couches. The brunette has his head casually laid back, resting on cushion, while the rest of his body was thrown over chair. From the looks of it, the man was dead tired.

To Harry, it all seemed like a dream. Draco's fingers ghosted over his skin, hovering over the skin on his exposed neck before carefully moving over his cheek. He could feel the warm breath blowing his hair and tickling his ear. An equally warm body inched closer to his. Gods—he could almost feel the blonde touching him! It felt so close. He wanted to reach out but feared It would break the spell.

"Harry" Draco murmured, almost pressing a kiss on the tan neck before him. It had been so long since he touched this flesh. The mere proximity of him—Harry, the man he loved, Harry the only boy to make him feel special, Harry the single person who saw him for who he really was---was in his grasp. Suddenly a large hand covered his.

"Draco" Harry breathed out, voice deepening into his sultry bedroom voice. Hr cracked out that two syllable name that was overcoming his with lust. He brushed his fingertips over the blonde's knuckles, an intimate gesture from their past. "Please don't tempt me" He pleaded before opening his eyes. He voice sounded hoarse like he was pained.

Silver eyes met green—both darkening with pure passion flaming from within. The look in Harry's eyes momentarily stopped his breathing. Once again, the fly was caught in the spider's web. It took him a few moments before the trademark Malfoy smirk formed on his lips. "Scared, scarhead?" He challenged.

The phrase brought back memories. All their nights together before the war—the taunts which led to lips merging into one another, the insults that led to cries of pleasure echoing through the night, the fists which led to desperate touches. It all came back to Harry within second. He did the only thing logical he could do, he planted a hand on behind platinum locks, pulled Draco to him and crashed their lips together. The lion within him was awakened once again. He pounced.

It felt surreal; the mingling of their breaths, the blending of their bodies and the connection of their hearts all over again. Draco still tasted the same. He tasted like warm vanilla and spices—spices that Harry grew all too familiar with during all their steamy nights together. God he missed this scent, the intertwining of their bodies crashing together in a blur of heat and sweat. He missed feeling such passion run through his veins—he missed Draco.

Tongues licked, tasted—yearning for the distinct flavor that was purely the other. Fingers gripped, grasping like steel until their knuckles ghosted to white—afraid that it will all disappear if they let go. Mouths crashed together, consuming them—reawakening the hunger which churned deep within. Once again they were together, after much too long a wait. How many years had passed? Neither cared; as long as they had each other, it was enough.

Beads of sweat began to form as heat grew between their bodies. Green collided with silver, both clashing against one another in a fierce battle for dominance. But neither really cared who won. Soon Harry had a grip on the blonde's waist, driving their bodies even closer. Draco moaned into the tantalizing kiss when their chests met. Emerald eyes glowed with fervor, with lust—he could see it. God damn, he could even smell it on his lover's skin.

"Draco" Harry murmured his beloved's name, over and over again like a chant. It was like a drug—alluring, intoxicating, adducting; he couldn't stop himself. The flood of enchantment washed over him like a river. His senses heightened with each breath the blonde took. Unconsciously a tan hand drifted under than thin night shirt, spanning over pale flesh. They both held their breath. The contact was exhilarating, more so after years apart.

He felt right, being in embrace like this. Dare he say it—he wanted to be coddled by another man. Never more was he challenged more; Harry fought back with vigor when they fought, Harry could throw more insults than anyone in his face, Harry wasn't afraid to speak his mind, Harry was his equal in ways more than he cared to count. Harry balanced him.

"Harry" God—only the gods would know how long he had ached to say the name. "Harry" He whispered it again like he was trying to convince himself that this was not an illusion concocted by his mind due to his won loneliness. Harry was the man he loved, the man he loved so much that he let go so many years ago… for what? He let Harry go because he could never give him what he truly wanted—a family.

"Shit" Alarm bells rang. We could never have it together.

"Harry" He said with so much weakness in his voice. His body tensed at the realization, snapping his silver eyes open like the impending doom was about to happen. Technically it was impending doom, for him at least. Harry pulled back, feeling the change in his lover's posture. It suddenly felt so wrong.

"Draco?" The name was questioning. Harry looked into Draco's molten silver eyes, searching—but all he found was sadness, a sadness he couldn't place. "What's wrong?" It was a quietly said, only loud enough to be heard due to their proximity. He could see Draco straining to bite his lips, refusing to reply.

Draco's heart clenched, his body shuddered as calculated words formed inside his mind. Now he wondered if he was brave enough to say it. He'd never been in Gryffindor, couldn't blame him for courage not being one of his best traits. "Draco..?" The sound of Harry's worried voice brought him back to reality. He had to face this, the reaction to his next few words.

It's not running away when no one is chasing.

"Let's stop this" He whispered, softer than he would have liked it to be. He knew it didn't sound convincing, he was barely convince himself but he had to say it. They could not let this continue, he couldn't let the years of sacrifice be wasted. If they continued this—it would break the one single promise that he made to himself, give Harry a family.

"—please" he added the one word that was sure to win the Gryffindor man. Harry stared at him long after the words faded into silence. Again he found himself asking the question; what happened? He searched Draco's eyes, seeking the answer to his silent question. Why? But the other didn't answer him.

"Are you sure?" He inquired, voice cracking as he said the words. Inside his heart he begged for the answer to be no. He felt the passion which transpired within them; he felt the emotion that he dare not name. It was the same from before; it had not changed—so why end it, when they finally found each other again? Draco looked content as he nodded.

"Yes"

"Okay" Pressing his lips together, Harry also nodded. Stiffly, he moved back. Somewhere in their throngs of kisses, he managed to flip the blonde onto the couch where he previously slumbered on. He rearranged his clothing, preparing to reemerge into the deserted corridors trying to look decent. But his eyes were sad, though it was carefully concealed by his bangs—at least he hoped it was.

Draco watched from across the room as Harry readied to leave. He body screamed at him to move but he forced it back down, it left him with a bitter taste of bile after a bottle of firewhiskey. He made a promise long ago that he would do anything to keep Harry happy and that was to have a family. He would not jeopardize that for his own selfishness. No matter what his heart desired, no matter what it told him to do—Harry deserved a family to love him.

It only took him a few minutes to dress properly again before leaving. He gave one last fleeting glance at his blonde lover before exciting through the portrait. His heart begged him to turn back and kiss the man mercilessly but he wrestled the thought to the back of his mind. Draco was running away again and he would wait; much like the promise during their leaving feast, he would wait for the blonde to return to him.

. . .

After the life we've been through

"Pop…? Are you still paying attention?" Jame's voice drifted back to Harry over the buzzling noise of students filing out to exit the room. It was—minutes after—4thyear DADA lessons, Gryffindors and Slytherins. The class was freshly dismissed when James walked up to Harry, looking at him with a curious eye.

"Hmm?" Harry hummed under his breath, mind still drifting somewhere far away. Not that far away, his brain was currently focused on a unique shade of platinum blonde hair which just passed the doorway. No doubt that it was Malfoy trying to avoid him again; Potion was being held in the room next to his, the task was proving to be a difficult one.

"Pop—!" James tried to a second time, snapping his father back into reality. Harry blinked, taken aback by the burst of voice cutting through his temporary barrier. He had tuned out the rest of the world momentarily and barely recognized his son was walking towards him.

He blinked. "Oh sorry" Harry apologized weakly, trying to recount his past few thoughts—every single one leading to the platinum haired, silver-eyed potions professor who he had not seen since the incident. James gingerly put a hand on his father's shoulder, squeezing to get the older brunette's attention. Apparently the gesture worked and soon emerald eyes were staring back at him.

"It's Professor Malfoy, isn't it?" True Marauder at heart, James inherited not only the color of his mother's eyes but also her keen attention to detail. He could feel something strange transpiring between his father and the said man since their first encounter back in his second year, the year Albus entered school.

Harry could hardly believe his ears. He'd been discreet hasn't he? He hasn't even breath a single word about his past lover in years! Not to his family, not to his co-workers not even to his wife, how could James have noticed? He held his breath and refused to speak; fearing the crack in his voice would give him away.

"Pop?" The question was stronger now, more demanding than the last. Harry could do nothing more than to stare into those brown eyes and nod so very slowly. Then there was a long silence that followed.

"Yes" Harry finally confessed, turning away in guilt. The quill he'd been holding was nothing more but a crumpled feather.

"How long?" He knew the question would eventually come, but still he couldn't bring himself to answer it right away. How long what? He wanted to ask. How long have they been seeing each other again? How long have they been seeing each other since the beginning? Or how long has he known that he was utterly, undeniably, irresistibly in love with Draco Malfoy? How long what?

"Two months" He said quickly. But James didn't seem fazed about the answer.

"That's a lie" The boy retorted, pressing the question even more. "Do you think I'll believe you, pop? The way you look at him is different—different from the way you look at mom, Lily, Albus and me! It's different from the way you've looked at anyone else! You fancy him!"

"I don't" This time, the answer was quick. James had barely ended his monologue when Harry uttered the two letter sentence. "I don't fancy him—" he knew the next few words would threatened his family, his marriage, and everything he strived to achieve because he wanted to forget, but it would be his truest words since the leaving feast "—I love him"

He expected a wave of hexes, a ton of insults and at the least a punch on the face but he never received a single one. Instead Harry felt two arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. Opening his eyes, he was astounded by the messy buss of raven hair that greeted his vision. "Pop, I've always known." James whispered into his chest. Harry embraced his eldest son back.

"You aren't mad?" Harry found himself asking stupidly, but he didn't care how idiotic he sounded.

Looking up from his spot on his father's robes James flashed a very Potter-like lopsided grin. "I want you to be happy too, Pop. I understand" He said, hugging his father even tighter. "But it isn't just two months, is it?"

Harry shook his head. "No" He answered. "I've loved him since before the way started." He, himself, refused to believe his own words. Right now, he was being completely honest to himself. He allowed James to pick through his walls and get to know him better than before.

"Then why don't you tell him?" James piped up, peeping up his face out from their embrace. His next words caught Harry by surprise. "He's right behind you" He commented nonchalantly as he released his father from his viselike grip. Harry whirled around; trying to catch a glimpse of platinum hair but the blonde was gone.

"Here" James spoke aloud, fishing for an old sheet of paper hidden within the folds of his robes. He gave Harry a cheeky apologetic smile before handing it to the older man. "I kinda swiped it from your dresser before I left for school." It was the Marauder's map. Harry, in return, gave his son a tender smile as thanks.

"Bugger, I wonder if he'd spare me the same reaction when he finds out who I fancy" James muttered, watching as his father delicately opened the folded parchment.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" with those words said, Harry disappeared into the corridors in search for the man he loved for years. Oh yes, the chase was on!

It was more than nineteen years since Harry last stepped into this solitary section of Horwarts. It was completely bland, save for the few tapestries hanging on the high open windows; empty, except for the countable suits of armor which decorated the space and of course hid the entrance to a place he could never forget. This was their corridor, the same one wherein they Draco and he spent their first night together. Tentatively, he took his steps towards the entrance to their special place within the castle walls.

It had been so long since he last saw these walls. It had been too long since he last stepped foot here. It was too dark; almost pitch black if it weren't for the light at the edge of his wand. He barely kept his foot stable; the rocks beneath his feet seemed to have changed over time. The passage his knew so well grew distant from the one in his memories. Maybe it was because, during those days, Draco had always been with him.

"Draco?" He called out gingerly as he entered their room. The lit fireplace signified that the blonde was most certainly here. He was taken aback. It was like he was back in time, nothing changed at all! It was the same neutral colored tapestries, cream colored couches with hints of warm reds—even the same head of platinum hair that only his lover possessed.

"Draco" He called out again, more affectionately this time. He made his way to the lulling blonde who gave no indication of acknowledging his presence.

"What about the Weasleys?" The question echoed around the quiet room. It made Harry's breath hitch at the velvet sound. He swallowed hard.

"I have a family to call my own" The brunette's answer wasn't really what Draco expected but he held his stoic face firm and void of emotion.

"What about your family?" He maintained his aloofness with the questioning, but he knew deep inside that his control was slowly slipping.

"They will understand" Harry whispered the reply. With each passing sentence that was exchanged between them, he felt more and more confident. He was sure now that this was what he wanted—this was what he wanted all along, he'd never stopped. He wanted to claim the man sitting just beyond the fires—Draco, he wanted to call out. "They want my happiness"

Draco's tone grew cold, harsher than the ice of the coldest winter "Then what about your wife?"

The inquiry struck Harry like a thousand lighting bolts. A hundred thoughts flooded his mind instantly. Ginny—the name came back to haunt him. She'd been there when Draco deserted him. She offered him solstice and sanctuary when his world threatened collapse. She guided him back to an acceptable life but he had to face the facts—she wasn't enough. She never could be, not compared to the blonde in front of him.

"She's not…" 'you' he trailed off, unable to finish his verdict. He swallowed the lump that blocked his air way, forcing it down his esophagus. Red hair will never match golden blonde. Warm brown eyes will never compare to harsh silver. Her sweet soft spoken tone will never challenge that deep masculine voice. Harry only desired one person.

The other man was fully aware of him, he turned around. Draco looked almost immaculate, soft dark blue robes covering his figure like a blanket. Harry could make out a pair of dark brown leather shoes under those robes, along with black trousers.

"Why are you here?" Draco's voice was empty. It almost killed Harry with the lack of emotion. Harry searched his eyes, looking for a sign to betray that placid façade. His eyes caught Draco's—there! He saw it, the twinge of sadness that shone in those shimmering silver orbs despite Draco's cold demeanor. That was all the encouragement that Harry needed.

"You" Harry answered curtly. He finally said it, admitted the fact. The single word was enough to convey every emotion he wanted to say at that very moment. He waited, again, patiently for the other's response to his single reply. Their gaze was intense, keeping eye contact while one stood and the other sat. Draco's posture didn't change. He merely shifted his position, reversing the position of his crossed legs. The next words were reminiscent of their first night as lovers.

"I only want you" he repeated stronger this time, affirming his earlier statement.

"What are you waiting for?" Draco taunted with the familiar Malfoy smirk playing on his cherry lips. "Come and take me"

That was all it took for Harry to snap and the lion within his awaken once again—this time, growling with hunger that it has suppressed for so long. His lips descended upon Draco's and capture the mouth he had been wanting for taste for longer than he can imagine. Hands confined the blonde's head, controlling the motions—controlling the kiss until he was sure that his lover would melt with intensity.

Draco, for what he was worth, never backed down of a challenge. He lunged into the kiss with vigor, pulling on Harry's arms, arching his back almost completely off the couch, and trying to trap the man he loved in the viselike grip of his powerful legs. He felt Harry buckled under his ministrations and soon the brunette was kneeling on the ground before him—their kiss was uninterrupted.

He loomed over Harry like a predator, searching in the Gryffindor's eyes for something which he knew he could find. Harry's eyes burned with the same emotion they had from before; from their first night as lovers, he saw the same pair of passionate emerald eyes. God he missed those emerald eyes which burned through his walls and penetrated his soul, he missed the feeling of those soft lips worshipping his skin, and he missed the hum of contentment that flooded his senses when Harry touched him—he missed Harry.

Tongues licked, tasted—wanting to taste the other. Fingers grasped everything they could until blood ceased to flow—afraid that once they let go, it would all fade away. The heat of their breaths, mingled as they breathe because their faces were so close together. Their eyes continued to be locked until their mouths touched again—tenderly this time. It was softer than before, softer than any kiss they had shared in the past—no lust, no desire. It was love.

It didn't need to be fast, rough, or hard to be passionate. It was slow, tender and soft as they moved towards the bed. Hand in hand they entered the bed chambers which they both yearned for. The room glowed warmly, welcoming its previous occupants like it had during their seventh year. Draco led Harry onto the bed, leading the tan body over his. He could sense Harry's intense gave under that unruly curtain of brunette locks.

"Draco" Harry murmured his beloved's name, saying it because it felt so right. This was the man he cherished—had cherished and would cherish even after the years were long gone. Every imperfection of the war had marred the once perfect skin but he didn't care. This man, Draco, was perfection to him—every scar, every mark made Draco who he was. He could find and list all the things which were wrong about this man but he cared not too—Draco was Draco, the man who held his heart.

"Harry" Draco responded as his lover called his name. Each time he uttered the five letter phrase, his heart would do multiple summersaults. "Harry" he rasped with every ounce of air he exhaled. Harry had definitely aged, growing into a man that looked more and more like his father. Still the same untamable raven locks, breathtaking greens eyes and heart-warming smile. Draco could see the strain the man carried over the years and all he wanted was to erase each and every one.

Their lips touched. They breathe the same air. Their eyes trained on each other.

They both felt the same—it erupted from the tons of memories they each tried to suppress with the passage of time but the deed only made their need stronger. It licked through their bodies, wracking their nerves. They reached out for the other, pleading for contact that they lost after the years. They lost themselves, melting back into the reminiscent times of their youth. They forwent marriage, children and carriers—they were merely Harry and Draco at this moment.

"Draco" Harry hissed, changing his tongue in a different language—the language of snakes. Draco, a man passed his thirtieth blue moon and father of one, shuddered like an indecent adolescent. It had always been his weakness, hearing his lover's sultry callings in indistinct hisses. "Show me—" his lover continued to taunt while clearly his lower half eagerly listened "—the most shameful parts of your being"

Something stuck him from within, magic from his soul releasing as he obeyed Harry's words. "Please" he moaned, clutching the chiseled face in his hands. He wasn't fully aware of himself. He didn't know what he was asking for, begging for—but he knew it was this man kneeling in front of him. He wanted Harry to lay claim on him once again. "Please"

. . .

'Cause I know there's no life after you

This was where he belonged, wrapped in his lover's warm embrace. Harry sighed, moving closer to the arm body that was encircled around him. Draco felt warmer than any heating charm, smoother than silken sheets and softer than cotton pillows. He couldn't help but relax in soft lulls while the man slept. But something rose from the back of his throat as the questions he had before were left unanswered.

"What about your family and obligations?" He inquired softly, so soft that it was barely audible in the vast room. A tan hand stroked the blonde's side, ghosting over the flesh. He didn't want to wake the man beside him but Draco already began to stir. It seems that his query was heard after all.

"Fulfilled" Draco mumbled still dizzy with sleepiness. He was aware the moment that Harry had awoken but his body was enticed back to slumber by the man's warmth. He liked this feeling—having Harry in his arms—it felt like something even he was afraid of facing. It was something called loved. But he wasn't stupid, he was fully aware about his feelings concerning a green-eyed man.

"How?" It was an idiotic question yes, but one couldn't blame Harry. He wasn't a pureblood after all. Surely, he wasn't aware of the customs that fell on pureblood wizarding families. Draco tried to catch the gleaming emerald eyes despite the darkness. When he did, he finally spoke.

"My son, Scorpius"

"What about your wife?" Harry felt the lump inside his throat melt into bile as he said the words. Of course, he'd seen it in the papers. It was what prompted him to marry in the first place. His thoughts grew bitter, there was a time he thought that he would be the one to lead the blonde man along the aisle. He shook his head that was long ago. It should not affect him now, but it did.

Draco sensed the shift in Harry's mood after the mention of his wife. Yes, Astoria—the pureblood witch he married and who bore him an heir. She was his wife and the closest thing he had to a best friend, she knew him better than anyone. Maybe—except Harry. He wanted the brunette to know him completely, more so now that they finally had each other. He wanted to be honest to the man he loved.

"She knows" he confessed, willing himself to look into Harry's whimpering orbs. "Everything" he admitted, guilt welling up into his thoughts as he bared his heart. This was different than being truthful to Astoria. Unlike Harry, she would cast him a knowing smile and say no more. Harry was Harry—like the naïve boy he was in the past—he had to ask, aloud.

"Knows what?"

"This—" He explained, taking one of Harry's hands into his. "That I've wanted this" he said again, hoping this time that the man would read between the lines without forcing him to say it out loud. Surely the Malfoy blood which remained in his veins would die of embarrassment. It was so unbecoming of a Slytherin to be honest—but he was a Slytherin no more.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed, understanding. It was clear what Draco wanted to say. Draco wanted him—after the years they were apart. His mind almost blank but his fears got the better of him once more. "Then why?" 'Why leave me?'

It was a simple sentence but Silver eyes heard the unspoken thought. "I…" Draco found no voice to answer Harry's question. He was unsure of what to answer. Why had he left Harry waiting out on the platform, knowing fully well that they had this connect even before the war began? Why did he risk the heartbreak and the threat that they might never reconnect again? There was only one answer. "I couldn't…"

"You couldn't what?" Harry peered closer, challenging yet at the same time pleading that Draco answer him.

"I make you happy" Draco released, dejected as his own response. Harry opened his mouth to utter protest by he continued again. "I could never give you a family that you deserved" he finished, staring into the wall because he was afraid of seeing the rejection in Harry's features. The rejection never came. Instead a hand rested on his cheek, convincing him to turn his gaze.

"What about now?" Harry asked, gently burying his face into Draco's shoulder. "Would you leave me again?" It came out so pained that it clutched both their hearts. They both knew were that pain came from. It was deep within them, their souls were trying to stop the lies they've told each other. They wanted to say the truth—the love they shared, but they were still both afraid.

"No" Draco confessed, finding more truth in his next few words than he'd ever said infront of the brunette. "I could never leave you again" This time Harry smile, sealing the promise with a kiss. He didn't ask what would happen after, he didn't want to know. He didn't ask about the future because he was content with the present. He didn't thing of other things because all he could think about was Harry.

. . .

"I'm sorry Draco" The handsome brunette DADA professor whispered over his shoulder. Glancing back at his lover who slumbered peacefully over the cotton sheets, he smiles affectionately at the innocence the fully grown adult blonde displayed. '—for causing you so much pain'

It had been a year full of difficulties for both of them—each one straining to keep their relationship a secret from both the faculty and students alike. In a matter of hours, they would watch seventh years depart from Hogwarts. It would be their first time to see the Leaving Feast together since that faithful night. Neither said a word about it. The wound was too fresh to touch. This time, it would be different. This will only be the first of hundred that they would participate in together as Professors.

Harry shook his head for the ninth time, scolding himself while a strange sort of déjà vu filled him. He had this type of thinking before. Right now, he was curled up with the only man who could possibly capture his heart, his lover, Draco. He studied the other's features quietly, taking in as much as he could—willing himself to remember; each caress of flesh, the murmur of slow and steady breathing, and the feel of unruly but soft locks along his finger tips. This was Draco.

It wouldn't be over now, this was just the beginning. Graduating was nearing and so was summer vacation, they would have to keep their secret for another two months before they could see each other again. There were no longer scars marring his lover's flesh, most had disappeared into dark flesh. Harry felt himself smile, tracing the skin were he remembered the old wounds. Nothing now, he hands were met with soft pale flesh skin. Draco was definitely here with him.

"Good morning" his lover mumbled sleepily while snuggling closer to his tanned companion, trying to soak up the warmth from the naked body beside him. The scent of Harry invaded his nostrils—strong, thick and spicy, it was covered with the scent of their activities from the previous night. The hard stomach muscles clenched under his cheeks, he grinned. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Not long" Harry whispered softly, not really knowing for himself how much time had passed since he was roused from slumber. He smiled gently over the sleepy figure beside him. "Oi! Scarhead what are you—" The blonde jerked in surprise as his palms met with cool pale skin underneath the sheets. "What are you—?" he only continued to assault the smooth skin despite the openly verbal protests.

Harry padded over the sheet, crawling on all fours until he was above his blonde lover—hovering like a predator. The sheets casually fell off his strong tanned shoulders, more so when he dipped his head and buried his face against a pale neck he smelt the sated passion that lingered. "You smell of sex" He said ever so casually, making a fierce bush appear on Draco's face.

"Harry—" Draco began but the protest soon melted into a moan as lips brush against his sensitive skin. "—stop teasing" Again his pleas fell on deaf ears as the brunette continued the torturous pleasure on his body; nips, kisses and licks worshipped him while he shuddered wantonly beneath his lover. Fingers traced over his flesh, sculpting the contours of his body. Harry's hands glided over him like a masterpiece.

Hands dipped under the fabric of his thin white cotton night shirt, feeling the heightened sensitive skin of his shoulder, chest and abdomen. He watched with idle lust as Harry's face disappeared into the mass of clothes and skin. Lips tenderly kissed his body, starting from the neck and all he could do was moan. Still tire from before, Harry led this morning's wake up call.

Harry's warmth washed over him, cleansing him of the fears he previously held. "Oh Harry!" he gasped, noticing the soft pair of lips close over his pert nipple. He moaned, finding delicious friction of Harry's calloused Auror trained fingers trailing over his flesh. He relaxed into the welcoming feeling—it felt like he came home again. "Harry" he murmured, burying his face into his lover's arms.

Harry's tongue worked wonders, making Draco twist in delight. The blonde never realized that his lover had a hand snaked in between them, feeling up an intimate spot behind him—he moaned. Harry brushed his long abused entrance with a slightly moist finger. "Harry" but the hand strayed away from the heated place between his legs. "Harry" he pouted even more because the brunette refused to hear him.

"Shall I give some attention to another part of you Draco?" Harry whispered the name in parseltongue, causing the blonde to shudder and harden even more. He formed a smirk, similar to the one usually worn by his lover, making his face look more sensual. 'Yes!' Draco wanted to scream out loud but his lips were pressed together. "I love you Draco" Harry hadn't realized that it was spoken in a foreign language.

"Please" The Slytherin seventh year answered weakly. He yielded despite his pureblood stature, his house name and his family heritage—he let himself plead, yielding to the only person who could control his body like a puppet. Harry was the only one to hold him like this—like a lover would. "Touch me" He begged, voice deepening in a whisper. This time, the stubborn man complied.

Clothes were pealed away from his body with tenderness in movements. Each time fabrics slipped away from his body, Harry's lips caressed the flesh before he could even feel the cold chill of the early morning. The lips were hot but not scorching, cold but not freezing—it was a mix of both, cool and warm at the same time that invaded all of his pores. It enflamed his passion and drove him insane. Harry was going—slowly, like he wanted this to last for eternity and Draco wanted the same.

"Harry" he called out, reaching for the brunette locks that loomed over his thighs. Harry looked up, catching those molten silver eyes. "We have the rest of our lives" he moaned, just as Harry found his puckered hole once again. A slicked finger entered him, he blushed so much like a virgin during his first time. Clearly he wasn't—maybe it was those piercing eyes that made his body burn with desire.

The need danced within him, churning in his stomach in whirlpools heating him from the inside. The want flared up when fingers parted his cheeks and a hot wet muscle assaulted him. Harry's tongue drove into him, licking him with fervor. At the same time, it was pleasuring and soft; it lulled him into the brink of climax without stimulation on his front. His hands curled around the raven tresses.

"Harry" he gritted behind clenched teeth, making Harry face him once more. "I'll come" He half-begged the man position in between his knees.

Harry worshipped every inch of exposed skin like it was a blessing from the almighty. He licked along the creamy thighs until his reaches his price. Draco's flesh was pink from embarrassment—he couldn't wait to take it into his mouth. His tongue almost automatically darted out to tease the hardened flesh. "Oh fuck Harry!" Draco moaned when Harry began lapping like a kitten, he exploded. The brunette eagerly pounced, drinking the white liquid enthusiastically.

They were only starting. Soon the walls of the room echoes with cries of pleasure and moans of orgasm, both men were sweaty and sated by the time it died down.

Morning progressed into the afternoon; soon the evening's festivities would begin. Seventh years were preoccupied with the Leaving Feast, most of them already fantasizing about their future careers outside of the castle's guards. Professors also busied about the grounds, checking and rechecking for any mischief. Every year seamed rowdier than the last, students were growing complacent due to the comforts after the war.

Though most were curious, two professors were barely seen at all—one from the Gryffindor house and the other from the opposing Slytherin house. No one had enough courage to ask, but there were some knowing glance that passed about the students. James was among them, he was only one of the selected few who knew what was happening between the two men. Most of the assumptions were partially correct—the two were definitely up to something, though it was not at all malicious in nature.

The pair basked in the afterglow of their love making. They had risen mid-morning, skipped breakfast and opted to stay away from the crowds. The year was coming to an end. They spent most of their spare moments in this room much like they did in the past. It wasn't entirely built on physical relations. There were nights they would scoot together on the bed, huddled up under the covers and they would exchange stories. It was something like a home away from home.

"It's time we make our presence known at dinner" Draco murmured along the line of brunette locks on Harry's neck. They cuddled together on the sofa, in front of the fire with warmed cups of tea in hand. As much as they wanted to, they couldn't stay here.

"Yeah" his lover responded in a sad tone. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave this behind. Some part of him was dreadfully afraid. Afraid that if he turned around and cast a blind eye like he did before, Draco would disappear once again.

"We better start packing then" He continued, more unwilling to go leave than he let on. He would miss this- this bed, this warmth, this body beside him—Harry, his heart silently cried out. Unlike before, he let the misery show through his eyes. He told Harry he was sincere—he would never leave again.

"Yes, I guess we should" Harry finally conceded before gently, slowly, detaching himself from the tangle of limbs. His heart crying out at the lost of contact with the other but he too stayed firm. "I'll see you after the feast then…?" It sounded more like a question than a statement. The other nodded and they parted ways.

At the feast they barely saw each other—too caught up in the celebration of their own houses. Snape gave this year's speech. And it ended like so "—to the greater half of you lot, I trust that your loyalties will remain where they stand" He finished and with a wave of his wand the enchanted ceiling faded into the most beautiful sunset that anyone had ever seen. It would only be described as magical.

The students all cheered, throwing their pointed hats into the air, uncaring where they dropped on the floor. Harry found his lover amidst the thongs of the student population, discreetly pulling the blonde to the corridors were they were unseen. This time he held firm when the man tried to shy away.

"I will not let you go this time" He stated with finality.

"Never again" the other conceded.

When the feast was done and the students were allowed to leave. Everyone exchanged their last farewells and they momentarily separated, ushering their own children into the express. Draco was by the Slytherin's coaster, talking to his blonde haired son. Harry was on the other side with a smug James by his side as he gave the last instructions to his two younger children. Nerves began to shoot signal, he was afraid that Draco would leave him once again. Looking around, he caught Draco's eyes and the anxiety died down. They weren't seventeen anymore. It was different now.

"Scarhead" a deep masculine voice drifted into his ears, a hand slipped into his. The last of the children were busy about the cabins, unknowing of the two men who were standing on the platform. "Are you afraid?" It was a soft spoken question and Harry merely nodded. A warm chest pressed behind him just as the train began to steam away. No one could see them through the thick magical steam. They were hidden from sight, hidden from reality.

"I was" Harry told his lover, accepting the caress that spread through out him. Draco's nimble fingers touched his cheeks as he gracefully moved to face the brunette.

"Don't be" Draco assured him before pressing their lips together. "I'm here"

When they left Hogwarts that night, they not only left all the memories of the secret relationship, tucked inside their heart, but they with a promised that no matter what—they would meet each other again on this very platform. It was only the beginning.

. . .

Author's Notes:

THIS is the reason why Falling in Love with the Rain is taking so long to update. This story had been haunting me for days begging to be written. From a short ten-page drabble about Harry and Draco it exploded into something more complex--it portray's the Potter Family and Malfoy family in a different light.

. . .

DISCLAIMERS: The lyrics to the following songs were used in the story are all owned by the respectable creators.

1. David Cook - Come Back to Me

2. Red Jumpsuit Apparatus - Your Guardian Angel

3. Christ Daughtry - Life After You

. . .

Overall, I enjoyed writing this story.

Review if you like.

Truly yours, a heartbroken authoress,

-Arh.

http:// mistydreams . tumblr . com/