AN: There is a prequel called "Living of Love" here:

Or, if you don't want to read R/Hr, there's less in the remix here:

I wanna have friends that I can trust,
that love me for the man I've become not the man I was.
I wanna have friends that will let me be
all alone when being alone is all that I need.

Harry's legs were beginning to shake when he finally made it to the hospital wing. He had cast a lightening charm, but the steady trail of blood behind them and the endless amount of stairs had taken its toll on Harry's psyche. Malfoy had long since gone silent, his head hanging limply off of Harry's arm. Harry refused to look down. He knew Malfoy's face was swollen, broken, and covered in gashes. Despite how he may feel about the other wizard, Harry couldn't take something horrible like this happening to anyone.

He kicked open the double doors that led to the hospital wing, and rushed in.

"Madame Pomfrey! Madame Pomfrey!" Harry shouted, spinning around and looking for a bed to lay Malfoy on.

"Oh dear god!" Madame Pomfrey gasped, coming out of her office and immediately dropping her various clip boards. "What on earth happened to him?"

"I found him in the forest, I have no idea. I just heard something, I went over there, and he was…he was…just lying there crying and bloody," Harry said, closing his eyes.

"Get him in this bed here," Madame Pomfrey said, swiftly opening the curtain. The metal scrapes of the curtain rings that usually made Harry cringe barely registered with him.

As Harry went to place Malfoy as gently as he could onto the narrow bed, Malfoy's hands clasped around Harry's wrists in a vice-like grip. Harry tried to pull away as the blood smeared across his arms, but he wouldn't let go. Malfoy began to cough up blood as Madame Pomfrey was casting her diagnostic spells. She conjured a warm, wet cloth and handed it to Harry. He set about cleaning Malfoy's face with unsteady hands and a familiar sense of dread.

"Don't let them hurt me…please don't let them hurt me!" Malfoy suddenly called out, his eyes wide-open and unfocused. "No more…" he moaned, his slippery hands sliding up and down Harry's arm looking for a better grip.

Harry's breath caught and he had to struggle to maintain some semblance of composure. He ran the flannel over Malfoy's face and hands before wiping up his own, all the while firmly gripping one of his hands in reassurance. He couldn't fathom who had done this to Malfoy, why, or how he ended up near death on the edge of the forbidden forest. Harry wasn't sure if he even wanted to begin to take apart the puzzle. Malfoy began to whimper and thrash about, and Harry tightened his grip on his hand.

"It'll be okay…no one's going to hurt you anymore. I promise. You're safe now. No one will hurt you," Harry whispered near his ear. Malfoy's thrashing calmed enough for Madame Pomfrey to finish her diagnostics. A quill and a clipboard hovered over to the witch.

"Starting at the feet," she said, and with a wave of her wand she had removed Malfoy's ripped trousers, leaving him in only his pants. Harry wanted desperately cover him with a sheet. He knew how he would feel if Malfoy saw him in his pants, he could only imagine the inverse reaction. "Shattered metatarsals on right foot, employing standard bone mending spell," She dictated, and the quill moved on its own. She swished her wand over Malfoy's foot and he arched up, yelling in pain. Harry put his head close to Malfoy's again and whispered more soothing words.

"Minor cuts to be cleaned and mended with episkey," She said, quickly sealing the slight gashes on Draco's legs as the quill moved.

"Serious abrasions around hips and thighs, prescribe dittany as they are quite deep," She spoke and the quill moved again.

"Should I get…?" Harry started.

"Not until I finish. Oh…dear boy. Severe internal injuries. Looks as though several organs have been sliced. Must perform surgery to rectify," Madame Pomfrey said, her cool countenance fading with a slight quiver in her voice.

Harry swallowed heavily at the bile rising in his throat and looked down at his hands clasped with Malfoy's.

"Three broken ribs, mended," She said, breathing deeply and casting another bone mending spell. "Serious wound across the face has cut through facial tissue and muscle. Prescribing dittany before attempting to seal skin."

Harry finally brought his focus to Draco's face, and he clenched his jaw tightly. He could see the layers of skin through the wound on Malfoy's face. He thought that if he looked any more intently, he'd be able to see a strip of jaw bone. He felt his eyes well up at the sight.

"Concussion, used standard method of mending," Madame Pomfrey said, casting her spell and walking over to her potion's cupboard. Harry pulled away to offer his help to her. It was a weekend day, and it seemed as though she were alone in the hospital wing with no assistance.

"No!" Malfoy cried, groping at Harry's arm. "Please don't leave me…please…they'll come back. They'll find me!" He was looking at Harry now, his wide gray eyes large, bloodshot and fearful. His face was moving grotesquely due to the wound.

"I'm…I'm here. No one will get to you. It's all right. Madame Pomfrey will take good care of you," Harry said, as soothing as he could possibly sound. He stroked Mafloy's hands and arms with his own. "It'll all be okay now."

"Madame Pomfrey?" Malfoy said. Suddenly, his vision seemed to clear, and the madness was fading away from him as he slowly leaned back. "Am I at Hogwarts?"

"Yes you are, Mister Malfoy," The nurse walked in and immediately began administering potions. He took them coherently, but still didn't release Harry's hand.

"Hasn't he recognized me yet?" Harry wondered. "Why isn't he letting go?"

Malfoy immediately began to fade into sleep as Madame Pomfrey started to undo his shirt buttons to operate on him. Harry slowly pulled away as the grip weakened.

But as he started to pull himself free of Malfoy, Harry couldn't seem to move. He promised that he wasn't going anywhere. Even if Malfoy was thinking more clearly, even if he was in good hands, Harry just couldn't bring himself to leave him. He didn't want to. Instead, he sat in the hard wooden chair next to the bed and conjured a patronus to Ron and Hermione while Madame Pomfrey opened up Malfoy's body so that he didn't have to watch.

Harry closed his eyes and pictured the moment a month ago when he, Ron, and Hermione had found a cool pond near The Burrow and deigned to take an impromptu swim and he summoned his stag. The Stag looked at him with inquiring eyes before bending his head down and brushing Harry's face with his ethereal, glowing nose.

"Hey! Everything is fine; it's just that something has come up. I won't be around until tomorrow. Have fun without me," Harry said before sending his patronus leaping out of the Hospital wing.

As he kept his attention purposely diverted from Madame Pomfrey's ministrations even as he maintained a hold on Malfoy's hand, Ron's little dog patronus came bounding up to him. The happy dog jumped on his lap and put his paws on Harry's chest.

"As long as everything is alright, mate. Just let me know if something's up," Ron's voice came from the dog's happy, tongue-wagging mouth.

Harry sighed in relief. He was eternally grateful for his friends of course, but in this he didn't even know how to express it. They let him recover at his own pace. If he needed to go off alone, they didn't obsess over him. The end of his relationship with Ginny wasn't over analyzed, and even though they offered their ears and shoulders, Ron and Hermione gave him a wide berth in which he could function. It made Harry feel safe and took a weight off of his shoulders.

A few minutes later, Madame Pomfrey was sealing up Malfoy's wounds and applying dittany to any area that needed it. Harry chanced another look at his face and only saw a faint pink line stretching from his nose to the back of his jaw. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and unconsciously rubbed his hands over Malfoy's again.

"He'll be alright," She said quietly and definitively. She came over and sat in the chair on the other side of the bed.

"Good," Was all Harry managed to eke out.

"Poor dear. How could this have happened?" She whispered, straightening his hair.

"Well, there are a lot of people with grudges against the Malfoys. Lucius is in Azkaban, but no one has been able to find Mal…Draco or Mrs. Malfoy since the end of the war. Kingsley Shackelbolt has been keeping me updated, since I told him exactly what Mrs. Malfoy did for me in that final battle," Harry said, turning his head slightly under Madame Pomfrey's knowing gaze.

"Yes, Minerva mentioned that. I have no doubt they would have been safer if they hadn't ran," She said sagely.

"I agree," Harry wanted to lament how this was his fault. If he would have just found Malfoy sooner, given his wand back, and told them he would make sure they weren't thrown in jail, this wouldn't be happening. But he just couldn't face anything or anyone after all he had lost…all everyone had lost. Harry needed time and he took it. Now, he felt guilty looking at Malfoy's thin, pale form.

"I knew something would catch up to him eventually," She murmured, still looking at Malfoy.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, wondering where she meant to go with that statement.

"He's been coming to see me for calming draughts since he was in fifth year. Despite what he said, I knew it wasn't stress from exams…I just thought, well, I thought he'd get out of it. I thought Albus would have found a way to help," Madame Pomfrey said gently.

"He tried," Harry said darkly, his jaw clenching again.

"Well, I think I'll head back to my rooms. I'll be down every once in a while to check on Mr. Malfoy. He should sleep through the night," she said, rising up and straightening her robes.

Harry just nodded and watched her walk away. Before long, he found his eyes getting heavy and decided to rest his head on the bed next to Malfoy for just a little while, his hand still firmly gripping the patient's.

I wanna fit in to the perfect space,
feel natural and safe in a volatile place.
And I wanna grow old without the pain,
give my body back to the earth and not complain.

Wales wouldn't have been his first choice, but Draco had to admit that at least it was remote and safe. His mother's safety is all that mattered to him anymore, and he took comfort in seeing her sitting elegantly on the antique wing-backed chair reading a novel. He turned his eyes back out the large front window and gazed out over the grassy hills. At least Wales had mild summer weather.

Shortly after Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, and Vince died, and Snape died, and his world fell apart, his father had fled. Lucius had run away from them right there in the Great Hall, not waiting for his family, and not even looking back. Draco clenched his fists unconsciously at the memory. He and his mother immediately took as much money as they could carry out of their Gringotts vault and fled as well. Without Lucius to keep them safe and with no idea what consequences they would face on either side of war, they had disappeared as fast as they could.

Draco wanted to leave the country. He had always liked Germany, and thought a nice manor house in Bavaria was just what they needed. However, his mother had the notion that Lucius would come back to her, so they remained in England. Draco and Narcissa had glamoured themselves and rented a finely appointed Welsh cottage under an assumed name. They had enjoyed two months of peace, and Draco found himself breathing easier because of it.

Regardless of their relative safety, Draco and Narcissa had set up a bank account with a small, local wizarding bank in a remote German town. An emergency portkey rested just outside their front door on a dark wooden table. Draco checked the spell every few days just in case. Pressing his head against the cool glass of the double paned window, Draco wondered how much longer they had before everything came crashing down again.

"Draco, honey, I was thinking that tonight we could cook up that chicken. I've been looking through some new magazines, and I think I can make a pretty delicious butter and herb coating on it," Narcissa said, and Draco's stomach growled. He was shocked when his mother returned from the local market with groceries and wizarding cooking magazines and even more shocked when she began to create passable meals and enjoy them. After digging into a scrumptious key lime pie last night, Draco had to admit his mother was an excellent cook, especially for not having had to lift a finger domestically in her entire life.

"That sounds great, mother. I'll just chop up some vegetables for you," Draco said, moving to the kitchen.

The kitchen door slammed open with a startling bang that shook the entire cottage. Draco immediately drew his wand and cast a stunning spell, but he was disarmed before the words even left his mouth. Five men in Death Eater masks were advancing upon him, and before he could scream for his mother to run, she had burst through the door and began casting spells.

Narcissa managed to take out two of the men before they had disarmed her. They pulled Draco into their grips and began moving toward Narcissa. Before he could think too hard on his actions, Draco elbowed his captor in the stomach, lashing his legs about to get another one in the kneecaps. As they were distracted, fighting Draco and regaining their composure, he looked to his mom, desperately pleading to her with his eyes to make her way to the front hall and the emergency portkey. She shook her head frantically.

"Petrificus Totalus!" A Deatheater yelled, ending Draco's distraction. As his stiff body fell against the linoleum, his mother was nowhere to be found. He breathed a sigh of relief, before giving in to the terror of what he was about to face. He didn't have time to panic, however, as steel toed boot hit him squarely in the face and everything went black.

They didn't let Draco move again until they arrived at a ramshackle shed in what looked like the Scottish Highlands. He was thrown against the wall, and his head throbbed in pain as they removed the spell. Draco immediately vomited from the dizzying sensation bouncing around his skull. He was resolved not to cry, not to beg, and only to flinch when he absolutely must. If he was going to die, he was taking his pride with him.

A swift kick to his ribs almost made him rethink his position.

"Where the fuck is your father you rotten little ponce?" Someone shouted, spittle landing on his face. He recognized the voice; the man didn't need his mask any longer.

"If I knew, I still wouldn't tell you, Yaxley," Draco responded, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

"Oh so loyal to your dear old Dad," Yaxley said, ripping his mask off. "He ran off. He abandoned you. He doesn't give a shit about you or your double crossing whore of a mother."

"My mother is no whore," Draco roared, adrenaline pumping through him. He managed a firm punch at Yaxley's jaw before the rest of the Deatheaters grabbed and held him up for swift punishment.

"Oh, she's not? Given how readily Lucius was willing to give you to any of us, I wouldn't be surprised if he passed her around too," Yaxley laughed, followed by a toadying laughter of the men holding him back. Draco was horrified."Oh, you didn't know? If it weren't for your mother's very serious insistence, you would have been a pretty little plaything for the Dark Lord and some of his less discerning friends. Too bad Severus and your Mother managed to keep that at bay. I still wonder how though…"

Draco tried to keep himself from vomiting again at the thought of what he could have been subjected to. His stomach clenched when he thought of how fiercely Severus had protected him, even when he was unaware. In that moment of grief, Draco had given up. He resigned himself to death at the hands of Deatheaters. He wouldn't go down like a lamb, but he knew it was inevitable.

"And do you know what else? I reckon your mum lied to the dark Lord himself! How could Potter have been dead in one second, and not in the next? We'll find her and we'll gut her like a fish…well…after she's all used up that is!" This time, Draco recognized Scabior's leering, rough voice. He let his rage take over.

"I will rip your cock off before your disease ridden hands get anywhere near my mother!" Draco lunged again, readying his body for the blow. Scabior grabbed him by the neck, and another Death Eater stomped hard on his socked foot. Draco wailed and fell to the floor at the feeling of the bones of his foot shattering. The sides of Draco's vision started to blur.

"No you won't, young Malfoy," An eerie voice came from behind him…Albert Runcorn. "You'll be dead before you ever have the chance to keep your dear mum's honor. We could let you watch, but you Malfoys are such inbred peasants that I'm sure you'd get off on it."

Draco's fists clenched and he sucked in a breath, willing himself to find a witty retort as his sanity faded.

"I'll ask again. Where the fuck is your father?" Yaxley shouted, ripping out a chunk of Draco's hair as he lifted him off the ground. Suddenly, Draco felt his cloak ripped from his body and the sleeves torn off of his shirt. With the silent slashing of his wand, Yaxley cut large gashes down Draco's arms. He screamed out as the blood poured from his wounds.

"I don't know! I swear I don't know! I can't say what I don't know!" Draco was sobbing now, and he didn't care.

The men silently left him in the lonely, dark room. Draco finally passed out from the pain.

Draco couldn't have been out for more than a few hours, because the light from the slatted window was still only moonlight, but he startled awake when the door slammed open again.

"We're going to let you go, young Malfoy," Yaxley said. Draco didn't believe him for a second.

"Just a parting gift, to make sure you won't get far," Runcorn whispered his face so close that Draco could smell the minty alcohol on his breath. Runcorn lifted him up by his injured arm, and Draco felt sick at the sound of his own blood dripping out. He looked toward his left at the sudden movement and saw Scabior break his wand, the one he had gotten in Wales two months ago, into pieces. Then, Runcorn grabbed his face, raised his wand, and cut a thick, painful stripe down the side of Draco's face.

"Wait, we can make him uglier!" Someone unfamiliar shouted from the small crowd of villains gathered there. Suddenly, there were more maniacal wand movements, and he watched his bright hair fall to the floor.

Draco was dragged (he could barely walk) out into the cold night. He looked up, trying to figure out which constellations he could see and where that meant he was. He could see Perseus and Cygnus clearly, but more poignantly, they were hanging over a familiar ridge. He knew that ridge. One could see that ridge from the Hogwarts Astronomy Tower. Draco knew he needed to head west, and by looking at the points of Cygnus' cross, he knew which way to go.

They dropped him on the cold, dewy grass, and Draco attempted to breathe deeply. He didn't hold on to hope that they would let him go, but considering how dizzy he was getting from the blood loss, they were probably right in assuming he'd never make it anywhere. Draco kept his mind on Hogwarts and told himself he'd get there for his mother.

"Now go, boy! And you better run fast, because we're comin after you as soon as we've had our drinks!" Yaxley yelled.

Ignoring the pain in his foot, which was like spikes being shoved through his flesh, Draco ran, focused on the spires of Hogwart's castle and hoping his sense of direction hadn't been compromised.

Draco could feel a warm hand ghosting over the hairless patches on his head and down the side of his face. He wanted to lean into the tender touch, but couldn't bring his body to move at all. It didn't feel like his mother, and his father would never touch him that way. He could feel the panic of waking and not being able to move ebb away slightly as the warm, rough hand ran over his head and around his face.

"Gods, they even sliced off your hair. I swear, I'm going to get whoever did this," A rough, careworn voice sounded near Draco's right ear. He found the person very familiar, but couldn't place it. "If you knew that I've been sitting here with you, and talking to you, you'd probably hex me…or at least petrify me and step on my face."

It was Potter. He chuckled lightly to himself and then let out a sigh. Draco's mind began to buzz as he fought against the fog and numbness that was engulfing him. Thoughts were flooding his sleep-worn brain.

Where am I?

What in the fuck is Potter doing here?

Why was he touching me like that?

As Draco struggled to decipher any information about what was going on, it all came rushing back to him: The beating, the running, the pain, and his mother looking at him like she would die before disappearing before his eyes. He remembered Runcorn, Scabior, Yaxley, and the other nameless men and what they said. He hoped his mother was safe. Fear washed over him at the notion that neither one of them were, and never would be. He could feel the ghost of acceptance in death hanging over him. He felt like he was drowning even as his heart began to race. He struggled to break out of his own body.

"Malfoy!" Potter shouted. Suddenly, two large, rough, warm hands were wrapped around one of his. Draco didn't care, he focused all he had on gripping back, of letting Potter know that he was there…and that he was scared.

"Is he awake, Mr. Potter?" Draco recognized the calming sound of Madame Pomfrey and his worry settled a fraction to realize he was at Hogwarts. He had made it.

"I saw him thrash a little, and he's got a good grip on my hands," Potter said, holding onto Draco's hand tighter. Draco squeezed back, and he felt Potter jump enough to know he was making progress.

"What can I do?" Potter asked anxiously.

"He's going to feel some residual pain from his wounds. Could you mix up a batch of Murtlap?"

Draco wanted to whine in protest when Potter pulled away from him, but immediately hated himself for the notion. He focused on waking up as he felt the nurse cast tingling spells over his body. He was aware of a burning across areas of his skin as well as a dull throb in his foot. He attempted to move again, and this time actually felt his body shift.

"Nicely done, Mr. Malfoy," he heard the school healer whisper.

"Here you go, Madame Pomfrey. I should…well…I really shouldn't be here when he wakes up," Potter said shakily.

"Doubtless considering your history with him, that he may not welcome you near his recovery," She answered patiently.

"That's an understatement," Potter chuckled lightly. Draco could almost envision Potter running his hands through that awful mop of hair.

"Yes, and you've been here for three days, Harry. You really should get some real rest, not just sleeping with your bum in a wooden chair and your head resting on his cot," There was smile to her voice now. Draco would have jerked in surprise if he could.

Potter had been sitting beside him for three days. That talking, that touching, that vigil…it had been going on day and night for three days. Draco felt an unpleasant lurch as the questions began to take over his mind. He wasn't sure he could be certain about anything anymore.

Will you understand when I am too old of a man?
And will you forget when we have paid our debt
who did we borrow from?

Harry sighed and inhaled the smell of the freshly-cut grass underneath him. Teddy's solid, tiny weight was lying on his chest, and his breathing was slow and melodic. He always fell asleep after he had his bottle. Harry congratulated himself on the brilliant idea of feeding him in the sun and falling asleep in the warm summer air. Teddy seemed enamored with the breeze immediately, and got a look of joy on his face so reminiscent of Tonks that Harry felt a pang in his heart.

Lying there, absently rubbing down Teddy's back, Harry found himself once again thinking of Malfoy.

After he left the hospital wing, Harry went back to Grimmauld Place, cleaned himself up, and slept for nearly twelve hours. He attempted to start renovations on the study, but found he was just too lonely without Ron there to help him. Harry knew that he should keep going regardless of that, having only his bedroom and the kitchen finished, but his ears seemed to ring in silence. When it was that quiet, all of his thoughts were on Malfoy: How he was doing, where he was, who could have done that to him, and even how good his hand felt clasped with Harry's. That line of thinking was not welcome, so Harry sought further distraction.

It was in the spirit of distraction that Harry found himself lying with Teddy on the grass for the third day in a row. Andromeda's garden was pleasant and peaceful, but the company of a tiny, jovial infant kept Harry's mind away from Malfoy to an extent. However, when Teddy napped, Harry's mind began to wander yet again, and he had to stamp away the confusing desire to find Malfoy, cup his face, and tell him everything was going to be okay.

"Harry?" Andromeda's voice scared him out of his reverie to such an extent that his twitch of surprise nearly woke up Teddy.

"Oh, hi! I thought you were taking a nap," Harry answered, sitting up and resting Teddy against his shoulder.

"I'm through now. I feel much better, thank you. I'm just worried about you," She said, taking a seat directly on the grass next to him and peering at him with wide, blue eyes. Harry tilted his head in question.

"You've been far too introspective since you got back from Hogwart's, and you've been practically living over here. I wouldn't mind if you did, of course, I just wonder why a man of your age isn't out enjoying himself more. Does this have something to do with Draco?"

Harry jumped at the mention of Malfoy's name. He had told Andromeda all of what happened, as he had told Ron and Hermione, and she reacted with horror. Harry wasn't surprised that she was so concerned. Narcissa was her sister after all, regardless of the bad blood between them. He nodded in answer to her question, hoping he wouldn't have to clarify too much. He didn't really understand himself.

"Perhaps you need some sort of closure. You both have been through a lot, from what you tell me, and after experiencing that and what occurred last weekend, maybe you need to tie this up a little more tightly," she suggested.

Harry pondered her words, struck by the wisdom that he's found only years and tragedy can bring. He had been feeling like a dangling piece of string, some sort of forgotten loose end just flapping around in the breeze. Perhaps tying up different open-ended questions in his life would make him feel more grounded and less lonely. He immediately thought of the Hawthorne wand in the drawer of his night stand.

"I think you're right," Harry murmured, handing Teddy to her when she stretched out her arms. He got up, immediately resolving to return Draco's wand.

"Tell me how he is…Draco. He's still…they're still…" Andromeda's voice faded away as she rested her small hands on Teddy's head.

Harry nodded solemnly before he apparated.

His hands shook as he opened the gates that guarded the long drive up to Malfoy Manor. He couldn't help but remember his last time in the home, and Hermione's screams echoed in his mind. He swallowed back a lump in his throat and clenched his fists. There was debris strewn across the vast lawn, and some of the manicured trees and bushes had been toppled over or cursed into ash. The white peacocks pecked aimlessly at the fallen branches for loose bugs and seeds.

Harry's stomach fell when he finally approached the home. It was large, imposing, and regal from the outside, just as it had been inside. However, there were scorch marks across the stone, broken windows, and some parts that looked to be burned down. The large double doors of what Harry assumed to be the main entrance stood slightly ajar. Somehow, this vision was more foreboding than an intact manor would have ever been.

He stepped cautiously into the entryway, his wand drawn. A sudden 'crack' made him jump and position to cast a disarming spell.

"Mibby is asking why Mr. Harry Potter is here," A small house elf wearing a bright pink oven mitt on her head squeaked to Harry's right. Her ears flicked through the cut out holes in the mitt with anticipation of Harry's answer.

"Erm. Yes. Well. I wish to speak with Mr. Malfoy," Harry said, trying to sound as authoritative as possible.

"Mr. Malfoy is being missing," She answered shortly.

"Ummm. Mr. Draco Malfoy?" Harry said, his confidence waning.

"What is being your business with him?" She asked in a small, suspicious voice.

"I have something for him," Harry said quietly.

Suddenly, the elf disappeared.

Harry walked into the Great Room that opened up from the foyer. The chandelier still lay shattered on the floor, the furniture was tipped over, and there was blood pooled on a corner of the Oriental rug. It looked to familiar, like Harry had been one of the last people to touch the room. He pressed his hand hard against his eyes as the memory of Dobby saving them all came rushing back to him. One choked sob escaped from his throat.

"The Dark Lord was so angry after that night, he left this room the way it was and made us live in the mess without picking up a splinter…after he 'crucioed' every one of us of course," Malfoy's voice broke Harry out of his sad trance.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. He was surprised at how fervently he meant it. Malfoy had tried everything not to identify Harry that night, and after what Narcissa did…well…no one deserved to be tortured anyway…

"You can take your sanctimonious half-hearted apologies and stuff them up your arse, Potter," Draco said, suddenly as cold as ice. "What is it you want?"

"My apology wasn't half-hearted! I mean every word I say. I'm not a liar or a fake like some people," Harry said, his blood beginning to boil.

"My mother was a liar, and I bet you appreciate that," Malfoy said with much less malice. Harry's rage subsided with the revelation that Draco knew what his mother had done for the outcome of the war.

"Yes, I do," Harry started, looking anywhere but at Malfoy. He wasn't prepared to see him horribly scarred like he had left him, so he looked up at the ceiling. "Where is she, Malfoy?"

"I would never tell you," Malfoy started, and moved to stand directly in front of Harry. He had to look at the other wizard now, and he was shocked to see only a faint scar on his face and all of his hair replaced. Malfoy folded his hands in front of him. "You can take me to Azkaban. Do whatever you will with me. You and your Ministry thugs can punish me all you want, but you will never have her."

Harry was completely floored. He stood there gaping at Draco's serious, stony face. His jaw did not seem to want to rejoin the rest of his face even as he struggled to find words. Eventually, Draco quirked up one eyebrow.

"Malfoy, assuming for a moment that for some reason I do work for the Ministry so quickly after the battle and with no NEWTS and no training, why in the world would I arrest either of you?" Harry said, finally finding his voice.

"I will not say anything further to incriminate my family, but surely you have eyes, Potter," Malfoy said, dropping his arms to his sides.

"My eyes should be falling out of my head after all they've seen," Harry said, exhausted by the sudden rushes of emotion he had been going through since first seeing the house that day. He found a chair relatively free of debris, swept it off with a quick charm, and sank heavily into it. Malfoy remained in his spot, but turned to watch Harry.

"I could see through his eyes sometimes, did you know that?" Harry continued. Malfoy's eyes got really wide and he shook his head almost imperceptibly. "I saw Charity Burbage."

Draco twitched and suddenly looked ill, but Harry continued. "I saw her die, but I also saw the way you looked. I saw the way you looked that night, when Hermione was tortured. I saw how you looked in the bathroom…" Harry choked a little on his words and Malfoy's hand went to his chest as if protecting himself from Harry's attack again.

"Malfoy, I could feel his rage, and I could see what he saw sometimes because of this scar. I can't imagine having to live under that, and your face let me know all I needed to about your participation in this fucking mess," Harry was looking at his hands, trying to find the words to finish out his story…to lay it all on the table in front of Malfoy.

"Dumbledore and I were coming back from…well…we had something to do," Harry was not ready to tread on the territory of the horcruxes. "And we flew up to the Astronomy Tower…" Harry was cut off by an audible gasp and saw that Draco's face was now etched in fear.

"You were there?" he said, his body seeming to shake.

"Petrified under my invisibility cloak. The offer still stands, Mal…Draco. I can find a way to keep you and your mum safe. I owe her so much, it's the least I can do. I can go to Kingsley, we can find your mother, and if it should come to a trial, I'll make sure you both never set foot in Azkaban. I have to," Harry said, rising again with his fists clenched.

"I…we…I…I don't need your pity, Potter," Draco said, without any venom.

"It's not pity. It's payback," Harry whispered.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the other wand. Draco flinched away and turned his head, like he thought he would be cursed. Harry chanced reaching out and touching his shoulder. He was startled by how thin Draco felt, but let it pass when the cool gray eyes met his. Harry slowly held up the Hawthorne wand he had been keeping hidden away for months.

"Is that…?" Draco started. He reached out his hand but quickly drew it back, like he was going to be burned. What Harry had learned about wand lore was buzzing around in his head. He needed to make sure this wand recognized Draco as the rightful owner. He surely didn't want a fight, so he did the only other thing that made sense.

Harry got down on his knees. He held the wand above his head, palms up, and presented it to Draco. After a brief pause, Draco too the wand carefully from his hands. Harry looked up and was instantly entranced by the look of joy on Draco's face. He thought he had never seen Draco look joyful before, and the concept brought a warmth to Harry that made him more than a little uncomfortable. Draco raised his wand and emitted green and silver sparks from the tip. He looked back down at Harry and frowned, reaching his hand out to help Harry up. Harry took his hand with both of his and got up, lingering too long with his touch than was good for either of them.

"Why, Potter? Why any of this? I just don't understand!" Draco pulled away, his face red and his eyes cold. "Why did you save me from that fire? Why did you save me from the forest? Why are you here, giving me back my wand and offering your help? You should hate me!"

Draco flicked his wand violently, but instead of a curse, the broken furniture in the room began to repair itself.

"Why, Malfoy? Because your mother saved my life! If it wasn't for her, that fucking monster would still be lording over your house, torturing the daylights out of everyone!" Harry started, flicking his wand just as violently and repairing the broken picture frames in the corner.

"But isn't this going a little far for a thank you?" Draco answered with another repairing spell that replaced the brick in the massive fireplace.

"Maybe…Maybe I just…" Harry couldn't find his words. There were so many ways to finish that sentence: Maybe he just couldn't stand to see any more victims. Maybe he had seen too much. Maybe he needed to tie up all the loose ends, like Andromeda said. Maybe he was just lonely…

"Maybe I've just seen too much destruction, we don't need any more bad blood, not even between you and me," Harry finished quietly. Draco snorted."I'm serious."

"I know you are," Draco whispered, meeting his eyes. "I'm just being ridiculous." Draco murmured something about French puns and gave Harry a tentative smile. Harry felt the warmth spread through him again and smiled back. As quickly as the smile appeared, it was gone, and replaced with a sharp, serious glare. "Can you keep us safe?"

"I'll do everything I can. You shouldn't have to leave England," Harry said. "We can find your mum, bring her back, and get you guys put under protection while we hunt down the fucking bastards that hurt you."

Harry knew it was grand talk, and Harry knew he shouldn't make such promises. However, he was positive that he would do everything he could for the Malfoys. Nothing would stop him now.

"We had a portkey made up. I updated it every so often. We were living in Wales, and the Portkey would take us immediately to a flat in London, which would move us to the International Portkey Station. There, there was a Portkey ordered to take us to Germany under an assumed name. Mother was able to touch the Portkey as they…while I…when I was taken," Draco's eyes closed and his jaw clenched.

Harry couldn't resist it any longer. He brought his hands up. Draco flinched away. Even after all that had happened in the last few moments, he thought Harry was going to hit him. However, Harry simply laid the palms of his hands on either side of Draco's face. He sighed, his skin was warm and Harry could feel the strong bones that made up his distinctive features pressing against his hands. Draco met Harry's eyes and brought up a hand to rest over one of Harry's.

"Everything is going to be okay, Draco," Harry whispered.

"Say it again…say my name again," Draco said softly.

"Draco," Harry choked out.

Suddenly, Draco's lips were crashing against Harry's. He froze in shock, but when he felt one of Draco's arms wrap around his back, Harry kissed back with equal fervor. He found himself gripping Draco's shoulders and opening his mouth, brushing his tongue along Draco's parting lips. Draco opened his mouth and his tongue was moving over Harry's, making Harry's entire body go nearly limp.

Harry pressed Draco up against the wall, kissing him deeply and wrapping his arms entirely around the thinner wizard's body. He was completely outside of himself, relieved of nagging thought and reason, and only focused on the taste, feel, and smell of Draco. The desire was swarming around him, and he abruptly felt Draco's desire pressing into his hip. The blond let out a small moan.

Reality came crashing around Harry as though the ceiling were falling in heavy chunks against his chest. He wanted Draco, but the hows or whys were so far separated from his understanding that panic began to rise. He pulled away from Draco quickly. The other wizard was staring wide-eyed at him, as though he was being hit with the same uncertainty. They stood, panting and panicking for a few agonizing moments until Harry felt as though he would crumble.

"Fuck!" He shouted, immediately apparating away.

Okay part two now clear the house.
The party's over take the shouting and the people,
get out.
I have some business and a promise that I have to hold to.
I do not care what you assume or what the people told you.

"First, I fly in a Muggle arrowplane all the way to Australia to get Hermione's parents back, now I'm in some German village tracking down Malfoy's mum! I wonder if we have any other friends who are missing parents…I might get to go to China!" Ron exclaimed happily as they left the Beergarten and made their way down a remote and winding side road out of town. Hermione, of course, slapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"I think the pickings are going to be slim from here on out, mate," Harry said, smiling, but never quite feeling the happiness it belied.

It had been three days since he had seen Draco. Truth be told, he would be a content man if he never saw Draco again. Okay, maybe content was the word, but at least he wouldn't be some confusing torrent of emotions he wasn't' prepared for. Regardless of his own lack of courage, however, Harry had a promise to keep.

He had gone to the Ministry, dodged the press, and ended up in Kingley's new office. The Wizarding World's newest Minister for Magic was still transitioning, but he had met Harry with good nature and cheer. After Harry had relayed what happened, Kingsley was sympathetic and even a little outraged at the treatment of Draco. They immediately set up a safer location and had even managed to trace Narcissa's portkey to a small village in Bavaria. While Kingsley and his Aurors hunted down Yaxley and his band of Merry Deatheaters, it was Harry's job to find Narcissa and bring her to the safe house.

After he did that, maybe he could face Draco again.

"Harry!" Ron bellowed, snapping Harry out of his trance. He didn't realize he stopped walking.

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?" Hermione asked, in that all too familiar I'm-worried-for-your-safety tone.

"Of course I am," Harry tried to smile.

"Listen, I know we've been spending a lot of time together," Hermione said. Her and Ron exchanged a look that probably contained paragraphs of conversation in a single blink, "and we're sorry. You're our best mate; we shouldn't be neglecting you like this."

Ron came up and smiled warmly, putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You've been a bit of a loner lately, mate. When we get back, you and I are going on a long, leisurely piss." Harry looked over at Hermione, but she just smiled encouragingly like getting Ron nice and drunk was her idea.

"Honestly, I'm fine guys." Harry said, continuing down the gravel road. Ron and Hermione stood still for a second in disbelief before rushing to catch up with him.

"Harry?" Hermione said in a small, slightly timid voice that was very unlike her.

"Yes?" He answered, keeping his eyes focused ahead so he wouldn't' give himself away.

"Please don't shut us out. You don't need to protect us anymore, and we love you. We just…just want to help." Hermione's voice sounded so wounded that Harry's mouth was opening before his head could stop it.

"I kissed Draco Malfoy," Harry said it and immediately froze. There was a loud thud and a groan to his right and a distinct gasp could be heard over the minor struggle. When Ron whimpered in pain, Harry forced himself to look at his friends.

Ron was sprawled on his stomach in the middle of the road, his hair dripping wet and his face covered in mud. It was apparent that he tripped and fell into a puddle. Harry crashed to his knees beside Ron while Hermione cast healing spells and worried looks over her boyfriend.

"I'm so sorry, Ron! Are you okay?" Harry said, panicked as he helped Ron sit up.

Ron had a hand clamped over his nose and blood was dripping from it down past his chin. Hermione huffed and pushed Ron's hand away, healing his nose and then spelling away all the mud and blood marring his clothing and skin. He smirked at Harry before punching him hard in the arm.

"Next time you decide to play a joke like that, can we do it where there's no loose gravel and mud, please? It's bloody painful!" Ron said, moving to get up. Harry reached out and put a hand on Ron's knee and one on Hermione's to keep them on the ground and keep their faces clear of mud and cuts.

"I…this…Fuck!" Harry said, unable to find any words.

"Merlin, 'Mione, he's serious," Ron said, resting his head on his knees.

"Not really…" Harry started.

"Oh thank god!" Hermione exclaimed, putting a hand over her chest.

"No! Fuck!" Harry stood up and started pacing. He had to let it all out. If he couldn't talk to Ron and Hermione, he'd just be an even more pathetic loner than he already was.

"I didn't kiss Draco. He technically kissed me. But I didn't just stand there. I kissed him back…a lot…and for quite a while. He just felt so good, and I was so drawn in. I've never…bloody hell," Harry couldn't think, his mind was buzzing as he looked at the confused and pained expressions on his friend's faces.

Hermione stood up, helped up Harry and then helped up Ron. She pulled Harry into an embrace and he felt immediately at ease. He didn't realize he needed that. He took a few deep breaths as she rubbed his back, then opened his eyes and looked directly at Ron.

Ron's expression was completely unreadable. He looked as though he were about to execute a particularly difficult chess move and was weighing the pros and cons. He met Harry's eyes and lifted his eyebrows, as though willing Harry to continue. Harry just wanted to beg Ron not to hate him, but he kept on going.

"We snapped out of it, and when we pulled away from each other, I just apparated away. I couldn't face it. Gods, I'm such an arse!" Harry said, desperate to throw a dramatic temper tantrum right there in the middle of the open dirt road.

"Harry?" Hermione said gently, pulling back and meeting his gaze. "For the past few months, we've watched you living some sort of half-life. We expected it was due to grief, or the change of going from wartime to peacetime, so we let it go. But you've been so aloof, alone, and melancholy that it's begun to concern us. If this…if he…if you find the current situation to hold some answers for you, then I can't help but find comfort in that," Hermione finished, though her expression belied apprehension.

"Are you ga…a homosexual, Harry?" Ron asked, his voice breaking a little.

"I haven't had much time to really figure that out, now have I Ron!" Harry shouted. He was so frustrated, so scared. He was scared of his feelings for Draco, and afraid of what that meant. He was frustrated that he couldn't seem to get a grip on anything solid in his life. And he was terrified that his friend would hate him not only for being gay (which he wasn't even one hundred percent sure of) but for kissing someone who had been so awful to the both of them. Harry unclenched his fist when he felt a large hand close around his shoulder.

"Calm down, mate. It'll be alright," Ron said, smiling tentatively, though his smile didn't really reach his eyes.

Panic was clutching at Harry. What if he was gay? He could picture the way Uncle Vernon used to shout things at gay couples, the vitriol that spewed from Petunia's mouth, and even all the protests that he saw of gay men and women asking for more rights. Harry just wanted to be normal, and it turns out he was going to be ostracized no matter what he did.

"It's okay if you are, Harry. We'll get through this. No one will hurt you or say anything to you as much as I can help," Hermione said, steely determination offering Harry an iota of comfort.

"Hurt him? Why in Merlin's name would anyone hurt Harry? For liking guys?" Ron looked back and forth between them before his eyes widened in understanding. "It's different for Muggles, isn't it?"

"What do you mean, Ron?" Harry asked, embarrassed by the way his own voice shook.

"Wow…Muggles…I just…to think that who you boff matters to them!" Ron mumbled to himself.

"Ron! Get to a point, please!" Hermione said, exasperated.

"Wizards don't care about that sort of thing. Not at all. It's like 'Oi, mate, you like chocolate or vanilla pudding?'…no one cares. Well, no, that's not true. Some pureblood families care, and my mum cares, but that's just a matter of grandchildren. The Wizarding World hasn't cared about something like that since…fuck…Grindewald maybe? At any rate, no one is making a big deal out of Charlie, that's for sure," Ron rambled, his finger on his chin.

"Wait, Charlie's gay?" Harry exclaimed. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Hmmm, I suppose I could see that," Hermione pondered quietly.

"Can you imagine?'Hi, Harry! Let me tell you in detail who all of my brothers are fucking and why'," Ron chuckled.

Harry walked over and leaned up against a lone tree about 30 meters off of the road in the waving, grassy field. He could not wrap his mind around the last 20 minutes. He had basically told his friends he was gay, that he snogged Draco Bloody Malfoy, and found out that being gay is really not a big deal in the wizarding world. His head was spinning. He heard the shuffle of the grass beneath Ron and Hermione's feet, but couldn't look at them just yet.

"Harry," Ron's voice was a little frightening, and Harry couldn't help but look at him. "I'm not going to go against you just because you like blokes…" He trailed off, and Harry knew Ron well enough to know he wasn't out of the woods. "But what the fuck do you think you're doing snogging someone who just fucking stood there while Hermione…while they…No. Fuck this. I can't."

Ron walked through the high grass away from the tree and toward the forest. Harry turned desperately to Hermione, but she was watching Ron walk away.

"Ron! Come back. Don't you dare walk away again!" Hermione said sternly. Ron froze, his shoulders slumped, and he apparated directly back to them.

"Low, Hermione," He murmured.

"Both of you just listen to me for a second," Hermione said, standing in front of them and looking taller than she actually was balanced up on the roots of the tree. "This is a lot to take in all at once. We came here to get Mrs. Malfoy, get her back to her son, and absolve both of them. We can't expect to have anything resolved between us when there's so much else to do," Hermione took a deep breath and finally met Harry's eyes.

"Harry, I can't say that I'm shocked you're into men. You're my best friend, I've always wondered. But...Draco? That's hard to swallow. I will stand by you of course, but everything still hurts too much to accept him in any real form," She leaned into Ron when he put an arm around her.

"Gods. I don't even know what is going on with him. I apparated away. I haven't had the nerve to even look at him since. I'm not asking you to accept him, I don't even know what I'm doing yet," Harry said desperately.

"The frustration is written all over you, mate. Now that I have context to put it in, I think Hermione and I are goin to have to work on accepting him in some way, shape, or form, if we can." Ron said. He reached out and put a hand on Harry's shoulder again, very quickly, before turning around and walking back down the road.

The rest of the journey to the little cottage they thought Narcissa Malfoy may be staying in was carried on in silence. When they finally saw the home, Harry was surprised to see a cheery little place with a well-kept garden filled with sunny flowers and antique fountains. As soon as he opened the gate, Harry felt a ripple of magic. He knew she was here; she or another wizard hiding in a remote Bavarian Village had just cast a spell from this house.

He walked up and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again. This time, he felt another tingle of magic. The third time he knocked, there was a shuffle of feet approaching the door. A very old woman in a faded red kerchief opened the door. Despite her old headwear, she had on a nicely tailored skirt that didn't fit her body, a matching jacket, and patent leather shoes.

"Yes, young man? Must you bother an old woman?" She said, shaking for effect.

"You're not an old woman, Mrs. Malfoy. Show yourself," He said firmly.

"My name is Helga Pitaki. I know no one by the name of Mrs. Malfoy," she said, her eyes shifting to Ron and Hermione.

"Narcissa," Harry started.

"Helga," she cut in.

"Draco sent us to find you, Mrs. Malfoy," Ron interrupted. The woman jumped at the sound of his name.

"Draco…my Draco…is he okay? Oh please, tell me he's okay!" Narcissa's temporarily old and weathered hands fisted into Ron's sweater, and he looked down at her slightly horrified.

"He's okay," Ron said in a whisper.

Suddenly, the old woman disappeared in the flick of a wand. Standing before them was a tall, statue of a woman with long blonde hair done in a tight bun on her head. She wore classic pearl earrings and a matching necklace that complimented her black jacket and skirt. She was now eye to eye with Harry and turned her sharp gaze on him.

"Have you taken him to Azkaban then?" She asked with venom, her previous display of relief completely gone.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I've come to bring you back to England. After I get the word that everything is secure, we will go to the Ministry. Minister Shackelbolt and I have drafted affidavits that will keep you and Draco from any further punishment. Draco is to meet us there, from what I understand," Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he finally finished his explanation.

She looked around, nodded silently, and opened the door to let them in to her temporary home. Harry followed her, and he heard Ron shut the door behind them all. The cottage had wooden floors and white washed wooden walls, though some of the walls were trimmed in the same stone that matched the outside. She guided them into a sitting room where there was a comfortable old sofa and two hand carved rocking chairs. Ron and Hermione sat on the sofa, and Harry sent his patronus to Kingsley.

He got an answer back within only a few minutes. It was going to take three hours for them to set up the necessary security measures. Harry sat down in the rocking chair awash in the awkward silence of the room. It was going to be a long afternoon.

"Wanna play chess, Harry?" Ron said suddenly. He gestured over to a worn wooden set near the piano forte.

"My mind is nowhere near coherent enough to be worth it. I'd lose worse than normal," Harry smirked as Ron nodded. He raised his eyebrows to Hermione, but she just rolled her eyes and reached for a book out of her bag. Harry leaned back in the other rocking chair and closed his eyes, trying hard and failing to not think of Draco.

Harry was startled from his daydreaming as he heard the harsh 'click' of Narcissa's heels along the wooden floor. He looked over to find her taking a seat in front of Ron at the chessboard. She nodded at him, and he moved. They continued to exchange moves in silence, nodding to one another, sharing the occasional calculating glance, and watching placidly as their pieces were taken down by the opponent's. Narcissa made a move with her knight, and she sat back, folded her arms across her chest, and smiled slightly at Ron.

Ron let out a loud sigh after staring at the board for another few minutes. He ran his fingers through his hair and sat back. Narcissa crossed her legs and her smiled widened slightly. Just then, Ron stiffened, and the grin spread across his face. Harry saw Narcissa tense and lean forward. Ron moved his bishop, and it took out Narcissa's other knight.

"Check," Ron said, leaning back and putting his arms behind his head.

"Clever boy," Narcissa murmured. "I surrender." Ron watched with complete satisfaction as his queen got up and took out Narcissa's.

"Best two out of three, Mrs. Malfoy?" Ron said genially.

"I hope you enjoy losing, Mr. Weasley," Narcissa said, though she was still smiling slightly.

The rest of their time was spent with Ron and Mrs. Malfoy playing against each other, and Harry and Hermione betting the chocolate biscuits on who was going to win which round. Ron had won 2, but Mrs. Malfoy had won the other one. It was funny to see Ron meeting his match in such an unlikely place.

The chess champions were just setting up another game when Kingsley's silver lynx descended from Mrs. Malfoy's living room.

"Please activate a portkey to take you to the international office. There I have set up a secure floo which will come out at a private home next to The Ministry. The walk should be short and safe to get you to a point inside the Ministry where you can apparate to my office," Kingsley's soothing, tenor voice floated through the sitting room.

"So much trouble," Narcissa whispered as she put on her coat and gathered her wand and handbag.

"The men that broke into your home are still out there, and Kingsley is not taking any chances. No one wants to be responsible for any more…" Harry started but couldn't finish his sentence. Mrs. Malfoy was looking at Harry with a slightly pained, frightened, and yet plotting expression. He saw Draco then, and had to turn away.

Hermione activated a portkey, and soon they were at the international office. When they made it to the home in London, they found it to be empty save for a note on the mantle.

Harry,

Please contact Draco Malfoy and ask him to floo to this address. Ron and Hermione can lead Mrs. Malfoy to The Ministry. There are aurors already in place.

Kingsley

"Aurors in place?" Ron said. He went to the window and groaned. Harry looked out and saw the aurors, in complete uniform, and drawing attention to themselves and slowing the bustling crowd of wizards.

"Harry, I'll trust you'll bring Draco safely," Mrs. Malfoy said, going for the door. Harry could only nod before Hermione was opening the door with her wand out and Ron was taking Mrs. Malfoy's arm in assistance.

Harry conjured his stag patronus and sent it off to Draco with the relevant address. As he watched the ethereal blue creature vanish, his stomach clenched nervously as he realized he had no idea where Draco was. In his fear and embarrassment over what happened between them, Harry had left Draco to his own devices. He hoped that Draco was safe and the message would get to him, but he gripped his hair tightly at the realization that Draco could be anywhere, and in any condition. He hated himself for being such a coward.

Relief filled his body when Draco came spinning out of the floo. He landed with unfathomable grace, his wand drawn and his eyes narrowed. He stood tensely, eyes casting about the room, before finally lowering his wand. Harry was frozen, watching Draco ensure his own safety, and fighting with his body's desire to rush up to him and wrap his arms around the thin wizard. He settled for a simple greeting.

"Hullo, Draco," Harry said, shoving his hands into his pocket. "Is everything okay?"

"Hello yourself. Where's my mother? Did you find her?" Draco said urgently, his eyes wide and worried.

"Yes. She's fine. Ron and Hermione walked her toward the Ministry's main entrance already. She'll meet us in Kingsley's office. He didn't want to draw too much attention with those…the people who attacked you still out there, so we're going there in a more roundabout fashion," Harry said, motioning toward the door. They both drew their wands as they turned the handle.

"I think the Minister has failed in his mission," Draco murmured.

Harry craned his neck and saw a small crowd forming around the aurors. There was excited and angry chatter along the small stretch of sidewalk leading to the Ministry.

"Was that Narcissa Malfoy?"

"What a bitch, she deserves to die!"

"I hope they put her away for a long time," the strangers and gawkers continued to whisper.

"Do you want a disillusion charm, we can blend in, sneak out the back?" Harry suggested as he saw Draco swallow a lump in his throat.

"No, I can't show them I'm afraid," Draco said, clenching his jaw. They both drew their wands and stepped outside. Harry was in awe of Draco's courage. Where once he identified only foolish pride in the Slytherin, now he sees strength and steadfastness that made the urge to pull Draco into his arms even more strong.

They made it half way, in relative silence, when the first spell brushed by their heads. The aurors around them immediately drew their wands, and Harry pointed his in the direction of the spell. That was when all hell seemed to break loose.

"What the fuck are you all protecting him for? He deserves to die!" A woman shouted from the crowd.

"Deatheaters killed my Tim! They killed him!" another woman shouted.

Shouts requesting Draco's immediate death and injury continued as they walked. Harry couldn't resist anymore, and reached out to grasp Draco's hand. He felt the long fingers thread in between his own and he squeezed tightly.

When a jet of green light bounced off the pavement in front of them, Harry had enough. He wrapped his arms around Draco and apparated them to an alley a block over. He stood there for a moment with his arms wrapped tightly around Draco's torso, unable to let go. He felt Draco begin to shake against him and Harry buried his face in Draco's neck, kissing the exposed skin.

"It'll be fine, we're getting this taken care of," Harry said soothingly.

"Maybe I did deserve to die," Draco cried. His voice was so strained that Harry pulled back to look at him. He was paler than usual, with lines of worry marring his face and bags under his eyes. His body trembled in panic and his grey eyes flashed with desperation. He was scared and guilt-ridden…it was written all over his face.

"No…no one deserves to die. You definitely do not. You did what you had to do to survive, to keep your family together. I don't find you to be a coward and I don't think you need to pay any more penance than you paid under Voldemort," Harry said, his voice growling with strength and determination. "What kind of world did I fight for if everything is still seen in black and white like this?"

Harry couldn't find any more words, and he could feel his face burning. He lifted his wand and cast a disillusionment charm on himself. Draco did the same, and they slowly made their way toward the ministry. Once inside, Harry took Draco's hand again and apparated them to Kingsley's office.

I wanna have pride like my mother has,
And not like the kind in the bible that turns you bad.
And I wanna have friends that I can trust,
that love me for the man I've become and not the man that I was.

"You will be staying with Andromeda Tonks until we hunt down the men that assaulted you," Kingsley said with finality as Narcissa gasped.

"My sister welcomes me to her home?" She whispered her face impassive. Draco could see a small tinge of hope in her eyes, one he was sure she always kept hidden away but that he looked for in desperate times.

"Yes, Mrs. Tonks is more than happy to take you in. I've been there all weekend, and we have two rooms ready for you," Harry answered.

"You live there, Potter?" Draco asked, and could feel the heat flair up in his groin at the thought.

"Well, no. Not really. I have my own place, but I've only renovated a few rooms. I spend a lot of time there to be with Teddy," Harry smiled warmly then.

"Oh my. Nymphadora's child. Of course," Narcissa whispered, putting her hand over her mouth.

"I'm the godfather," Harry said, looking at his feet, his voice suddenly tinged with sadness. Draco was shocked that Harry was given such a role in the child's life, and surmised that the Werewolf and Nymphadora must have meant more to Harry than he had perceived. Draco could feel pity rise in his chest at the thought of yet more people that seemed to have been taken from him.

"I cannot wait to meet him, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said magnanimously. Draco was slightly startled when she put a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry looked up at her and smiled again.

Draco could feel himself get dizzy just from that genuine, happy look on Harry's face. He needed to get out of there.

"I just have a few questions before we sign these statements," Kingsley said, and Draco's hopes of escaping were quickly dashed. "I've gotten a very clear account from Harry and Ron about why you should be pardoned, and I find them to be solid reasons. But I've had a shocking lack of input from Ms. Granger regarding a night I've heard about in detail from Ollivander himself."

"Minister Shackelbolt, I," Granger began to attempt to speak up, her lips shaking slightly.

"If it's all the same to you, Minister, Hermione really can't quite go there yet," Weasley said, pulling her close to him.

"Then you may leave, but I still need to hear about this from their mouths. The fact of the matter is, two people were kept prisoner in their home, and a Hogwarts professor was murdered. Not to mention what happened when you were taken there," Kingsley said, looking grave.

Draco could feel that small glimmer of hope leave him. He knew there was no escaping. No matter how he felt or what he did and didn't do, his family still housed The Dark Lord and his father still did his bidding. Draco mentally prepared himself for prison, but couldn't stop from shaking. He jumped when the door clicked and he noticed that Weasley and Granger had left.

"If you don't mind, Minister, I'm staying. I made a promise, and I owe Mrs. Malfoy my life," Harry said. Draco looked over at him and saw his face impassive and his arms strong. He wanted to curl up and hide behind Harry, but instead stiffened his spine and tensed his jaw. Malfoys never went quietly.

And so Draco and his mother recounted their time living under The Dark Lord's thumb and every detail of the night Harry was captured from their point of view. Draco's voice never faltered, and he and his mother were pillars of strength. However, inside, he was burning with fear.

"And what did You Know Who do when he found out Harry and company had escaped?" Kingsley asked, writing in his notes nearly everything they had said. Draco's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he could not answer.

"He tortured Draco…" Narcissa's voice quivered. "…for too long." Draco flinched with remembered pain, reliving the endless spans of time when nothing but the cruciatus curse was invading his consciousness. He wanted to touch his mother, to reassure her that he was okay, but he couldn't move.

"The Dark Lord pitted us against one another. He used the fact that we were a loving family as his greatest weapon towards us. When Lucius failed in his initial task, he charged Draco with the task of killing Dumbledore, counting on my son dying in the process. He took Lucius' wand and threatened…well…the unthinkable on me if Lucius didn't submit. And he kept Draco silent and obedient, cutting that mark onto his arm, by saying he would kill his father and I if he rebelled. Of course my husband should have never served The Dark Lord in the first place, and he paid direly for this mistake, but the havoc he wrecked on my family because we loved one another is something I am unsure I'll ever recover from," Narcissa finished an a single tear went down her cheek.

Draco was still frozen, still lost in the memory of fear and pain the last few years had brought him. He didn't register anything around him until a loud 'bang' sounded next to him. He jumped, immediately reaching for his wand, only to see Harry standing in front of The Minister, red faced, with his fist pressed hard against the polished wooden desk.

"I know, Harry, I know. You have to understand why some questions still needed to be asked. I can assure you, with your statements and this conversation, they will not face further punishments," Minister Shackelbolt said gently, looking at Harry with a calculating yet soft gaze. Draco saw his mother visibly relax.

"However, Mrs. Malfoy, should your husband be found, I cannot provide him with the same leniency. He took the dark mark, he willingly followed You Know Who, and he engaged in many crimes in his name," The Minister said gravely. Narcissa simply nodded. "With these answers to my questions, Harry and Ron's signed statements, and other evidence, we can avoid a nasty trial here as well." The Minister cast a spell that sealed the file, and vanished it to an unknown location.

Harry shook the Minister's hand and walked out before Draco could even rise from his seat. The Minister gave the apparation coordinates to Andromeda Tonks' house, revealing himself as the secret keeper, and excused himself, leaving the office door open. Draco finally looked over at his mother and lost all of his composure.

They rose at the same time and he folded her into an embrace. He remembered being a child, and burying his face against her as she comforted him. However, he was much taller than his mother now, and he felt like he wanted to give her the comfort she always gave him. He whispered reassurances in her ear that he was alright, that everything would be okay, until her body was not shaking with sobs any longer.

Andromeda Tonks was nothing shocking or spectacular to look at upon first glance, but careful study by someone familiar with Black features made Draco acutely aware that this woman was no doubt his family. She had the look of being taller than she was, the way his mother did, and the startling dark hair of his Aunt Bellatrix, though she actually combed it. Her eyes were the same, sharp shade of watery blue as his mother's, and she had the refined and aristocratic features that Draco though could only belong to a Black. Where Bellatrix was some kind of insane anomaly of genetics, like a mangled branch on the family tree, Andromeda seemed to be a darkened mirror image of his mother.

The unsettling thing about Andromeda was not the stark resemblance to his mother, but the fact that she possessed all of his mother's regality in the casing of a natural, happy, and casual woman. She wore muggle jeans and a paisley blouse, accompanied by what looked to be handmade beaded jewelry. Her dark hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, with streaks of gray looking as though they were painted carelessly through her locks. She looked like she was a warm and peaceful person, despite the hard, stony look that currently graced her face.

"Narcissa, Draco," She said tightly, ushering them into her home. Narciassa simply nodded and walked forward. "Can I take your bags?"

"I'm afraid we don't have any. Circumstances led us to need to leave quickly, and I'm sure the house we were hiding in has been destroyed," Narcissa answered. "Draco managed to get a few things, but I am severely lacking."

"Until we can have some things delivered or you can shop safely again, why don't we see what we can find among my things," Andromeda said. She looked Narcissa up and down and smiled slightly, her stone features melting. "It looks as though we are still the same size."

Suddenly, Draco found himself alone in an unfamiliar living room as his mother and long lost Aunt went upstairs to go through clothing. The house was fairly modern, and the rooms were decorated in soft beige, tan, and brown with green and blue accents. It gave the home and earthy feeling. There were no antiques, and the furniture looked new and comfortable. The kitchen was all black, white and filled with steel appliances whose function Draco was only vaguely aware of. He sighed heavily, and walked over to the bookshelf next to the box that showed the moving pictures. He grabbed a book that looked to be a modern muggle novel, but appeared quite appealing by the cover, and readied himself for some reading.

Draco paused at the polished stone mantle and picked up a photograph. It showed Andromeda and a burly blonde man with a genial smile who must have been the Muggle she married. There was a teenage girl with purple hair making a face in front of them whom Draco gathered was Nymphadora. The next picture was large, and showed Nymphadora with golden hair, in a short white dress standing next to his old Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Remus Lupin, who was wearing trousers and a casual blue shirt. They were grinning beatifically. Neither of the pictures moved, but both looked happier than anything that had graced the Manor's mantle in years.

"I loved him! Can't you understand what love is? What is blood purity when you fall in love like that?" Draco heard Andromeda shout from upstairs and he flinched. He assumed that this would need to be hashed out, better sooner than later.

"Of course I understand love, but you went against our family's wishes!" Narcissa yelled.

"And you abandoned me instead of standing by me. I would have been there for you…I would have helped!" Andromeda yelled desperately.

"Well, I never got a single letter from you," Narcissa's voice was getting much less argumentative now.

"I figured contact with me wasn't welcomed," Andromeda said a little more softly.

"You're my sister. Regardless of the ridiculous notions of blood purity that I foolishly ascribed to for so long, you could have reached out," Narcissa wasn't even shouting now, and Draco had to tilt his ear to hear.

"I've lost everything, Cissy. He's gone. She's gone…" Draco's aunt was openly sobbing now.

"My home is in shambles; my fool of a husband has abandoned us, and the things Draco has suffered through!" Draco's breath hitched as he heard his mother cry as well. "Oh Andy, what is there left?"

"You and I. Teddy and Draco…Teddy and Draco," Andromeda was murmuring. Silence pierced the house, and Draco assumed that there was a lot of lost ground to cover between those two. He resigned himself to a quiet night of reading. He was unsure of how much peace his mind would have after the tumult of the last few days.

A series of coos, sounding like a very happy bird, came from upstairs. Draco looked up at the ceiling as though it would help him hear better. Soon, however, the coos turned into crying and Draco knew that must be the nursery. He paused for a few more moments, wondering if Andromeda was going to fetch the infant, but he heard no sound from her room. He sighed and walked up the stairs. He saw that Andromeda's door was imperturbed, and her and his mother must have been doing some serious discussing.

"She must have forgotten the monitoring charms," Draco mumbled to himself, walking over to the nursery. He walked over to the crib and peeked uncertainly at the wailing child. He had never so much as held a baby, let alone kept one from crying. "Hello, sir. Do you require something?" He said, smirking. He knew that the baby couldn't understand him, but he found his choice of language and his tone funny anyway. Teddy looked up at him and stopped crying.

"I see you are an excellent judge of character already, cousin," Draco said. He reached in and delicately picked up the baby, cradling his head with a hand against his shoulder. However, when Teddy arched his back and pulled away to look at Draco, he realized that since Teddy wasn't very newly born, he likely had enough motor skills to hold up and move his head. "Let's get you downstairs so Grandmother and Aunt can talk some more."

A half an hour later, Draco found he was actually enjoying himself. He cast sparks and blew bubbles with his wand, earning him cries of glee from Teddy. He charmed his toys to dance around the baby, and even made a few silly faces to get the boy to smile. Soon, Teddy was looking up at him and attempting to communicate. Though Draco didn't understand a word of it, he decided to talk anyway.

"As entertaining as conversing with you is, I'm pretty sure he's hungry," Harry's voice broke through Teddy's incessant babble. Draco jumped up off of the floor like he had been caught doing something wrong. "Where's Andy?"

"I think her and my mother have gotten caught up…"

"Teddy?" Andromeda's voice came from the nursery, sounding slightly panicked.

"It's okay, Andy. I've got it covered. Draco and I were about to feed him," Harry yelled up the stairs.

"Thank you, love," Andromeda said, shutting the door to her bedroom. Harry scooped Teddy up off of the floor, and Draco gasped as the little boy's brown hair changed to jet black.

"Oh, his mum was a metamorphmagus, and he's picked it up. I just hope he doesn't figure out how to mimic the scar," Harry said, and Draco let out a small chuckle. He watched as Harry threw Teddy up in the air, catching him on the way back down. The baby was beside himself, squealing and giggling in equal measure. Harry cradled him in one of his solid arms and strolled to the kitchen. He paused and looked down at Teddy's smiling face, his own expression sad and distant for a few moments. "He looks way too much like me when I was baby when he does that." Harry said, though he seemed sad at the thought.

"You'll have it better, I promise," Harry whispered, obviously thinking Draco couldn't hear. Draco looked around the room as though distracted and not hanging on Harry's every movement.

Draco attempted to look aloof, opening the book and selecting a chair in the living room while Harry fed little Teddy. However, he couldn't help but stare at Harry, trying to figure out that haunted look on his face. Harry was concentrating wholly on the baby, like nothing else in the world existed, but he didn't smile. He just stared with sad longing at the tiny person in his arms. Finally, Draco couldn't take it anymore and had to break the reverie.

"Where did you go?" Draco asked, hoping his voice sounded as uninterested as possible.

"Bit of a piss with Ron. I needed…well…I've got a lot on my mind," Harry answered, meeting Draco's eyes with his overwhelming gaze.

"You didn't stay out long," Draco commented.

"Nah, I'm pretty tired, and I wanted to see Teddy before I went home."

"Hmm," Draco said, turning another unread page.

Teddy had fallen back asleep before he even finished his bottle. Harry held the child up until he got a small burp from him and then lulled him into a deeper sleep.

"He's usually in bed by eight. He must have just gotten up and fussed because he can sense a change in the house. Unfamiliar people and whatnot," Harry said shyly, walking toward the stairs He came back down a few moments later looking so ridiculously uncertain and insecure that Draco almost snorted. "I've cast some monitoring charms. I'll stick around for a little while in case he wakes."

Draco was about to answer, to ask for some tea…anything to keep him near, but Harry was already out the door. Draco debated following him, ultimately deciding that it would make him look like some needy first year, and went into the kitchen to prepare some tea. He found a nice herbal blend, heated some water with his wand, and even managed to dig up some biscuits. He sat at a table in an alcove of windows, the moon shining brightly through the glass. He saw Harry sitting in the back garden, on the ground, his hands to his mouth and his head tilted back.

Draco slid open the large glass door and walked out into the garden. It was lush, even against the dark night sky, and he was impressed by the flowers and trees that hung over everything. It took someone very skilled with plants to cultivate something this abundant and lovely. He quietly approached Harry, the other wizard emitting a faint whistling sound and looking up at the sky.

"There are benches in this garden, Potter. And even if there weren't, one could conjure something so that he didn't have to sit on the ground," Draco said acerbically. Harry didn't turn to look at him, just shrugged. "Your verbal acuity astounds me." Despite his protestations, Draco dried the dewy grass around him and sat down next to Harry.

Harry was picking up blades of grass, pressing them between his thumbs, and attempting to create a high pitched whistle. A few times, he got it right, and grinned at Draco, blowing the noise in his face. Draco just raised his brows, unsure of what exactly Harry was doing.

"When I was little, I didn't get to play outside…not really ever. Whenever it was a nice day, I was told to do yard work. I got really good at weeding the garden and mowing the lawn, so I always had a few moments before Aunt Petunia noticed I wasn't working. I mastered the art of grass whistling then, but I seem to have lost it. I remember this one time, I managed to take some blades of grass inside, and I practiced whistling in my cupboard. Of course, the noise disturbed Uncle Vernon and he took a switch to me…but I actually made little songs!" Harry finished, a slight smile on his face.

Draco had no idea what to say. He didn't know what to make of this story. Questions were buzzing around in his head: Why did you have to work so much? What do you mean 'cupboard'? Did your aunt and uncle really hit you for that?

"I would have thought the world would be falling at the feet of the Boy who Lived. Toys laid in front of his throne and bon bons in bed for the world's little hero," Draco said, and immediately hated himself for sounding so bitter.

"Ha! More like a mop and broom at my feet and scraps of food in a cupboard under the stairs," Harry answered with equal bitterness.

"They made you sleep in a cupboard and hit you? Your aunt and uncle?" Draco couldn't hide the shock from his voice.

"They hated me, and hated having me around. I didn't even know I was a wizard until Hagrid showed up to take me away," Harry said, with way too much casualness.

Draco felt completely appalled. He did nothing but tease Harry when they were a world away and still considered children. He had such a misconception of Harry that it carried on far too long into his young adult life. He was slightly ashamed of himself, and it was another thing to pile to the heap of shame he carried on his shoulders.

"Oh don't look like that, I'm fine," Harry said, whistling through another blade of grass. His expression suddenly got very stony. "You're the one who was fucking tortured in your own house, in front of your parents. How did you ever make it through that?" Draco's body tensed in remembered pain and he felt a hand close over his on top of the grass.

"I guess I got through it because I had to. Otherwise, what was left for me?" Draco answered, uncomfortable with the direction his memories were taking.

"I'm so sorry. I should have…"

"Fuck you, Potter." Harry's hand snapped back at Draco's biting words, but he put his hands on Harry's shoulders and turned his whole body towards him. "Contrary to popular belief, you are not an all powerful and all-knowing being. You can't hold yourself accountable for every iota of pain that happened during this war. You can't keep paying penance for those who were lost. It's bordering on arrogant to hold everything on your own shoulders like that."

"You'd know something about arrogant, wouldn't you?" Harry said, clenching his jaw and not meeting Draco's eyes.

"There's a difference between pride and arrogance." Draco answered. They sat in silence for a few moments that felt like an eternity, and Draco's hands never left Harry's shoulders.

"You've done more than enough for my family. If there's anything I can ever do to repay you…"

"There's no need. I owed your mother a life debt for what she did. I should be the one…"

Draco couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take this constant airing of their dirty laundry, the apologies, the gentle stumbling around what happened between them at the Manor and the rippling tension. There was too much there, too much between him and Harry to just sit on the grass and let it all fall away into some trite post war wounded soldiers sort of kinship. It was more than that to Draco, and he wondered if it had always been.

He leaned forward and kissed Harry quickly on the lips before pulling back and trying to read his reaction.

He only had to wait for one half of a breath before Harry wrapped an arm around the back of his neck and kissed him gently, tentatively, and with something that Draco felt was near deference. Harry's thumb eased over the faint pink scar on Draco's face as his lips moved against his own. Draco had to swallow a sigh at how good it felt to be touched in that way.

Harry pulled Draco firmly against him, dragging his body a short distance across the grass. His tongue ghosted across Draco's lips, unassuming and so welcome. Draco opened his mouth and tilted his head, willing Harry to have all of him even if he couldn't say it. He wanted the reassurance of Harry's warm hands all over him. The thought overwhelmed him and spurred him further in the same second. Draco began to kiss along Harry's very slightly stubbled jaw, and in the same moment, Harry's hands moved to the waist of Draco's pants and began yanking his tailored shirt out.

When Harry's hands splayed along the bare skin of Draco's back, he couldn't hold back a moan any longer. Harry's touch was like fire, dousing out something cold and dark inside of him. Draco met Harry's lips again and set about devouring him as much as he could. His hands were shaking with excitement and his heart was racing. He hadn't felt his heart race for a good reason in years. It was like flying.

Harry's hand reached down the back of Draco's trousers, cupping his arse. Draco's knees landed on either side of Harry's thighs, and Harry pulled their groins together. Draco cried out, grasping at Harry's shoulders before once again diving at Harry's wet, warm mouth. His fingers began to tug at Harry's tee shirt, and suddenly, Harry yanked the shirt off and threw it into the grass. Draco let Harry unbutton his and slide it off of his shoulders before pushing Harry back gently onto the ground.

Harry's hands ran up and down Draco's sides and across his abdomen, touching roughly and carefully in equal measure. Draco let his fingers trail lightly along Harry's tan chest, an obvious contrast to his own white skin. Even in the dim glow of the moon, Draco could see the scars that ran up and down Harry's arms and across his torso, some sort of puzzle against the backdrop of his perfect, muscled shape. As he touched every inch of bare skin, he noticed that Harry's hands were frozen on Draco's chest and his eyes were wide. More dirty laundry.

"Let's just stop focusing on the past for a while, Harry," Draco whispered, pulling Harry's hands away from his scars and bringing one up to his lips.

Harry leaned up, and Draco down to meet his lips. Their hips began to move in a rhythm against one another, and soon the desperate moaning had reached a peak. Draco needed more, and from the frantic way Harry's hands flitted across his back, Harry felt the same way. He rolled off of Harry and lay on his side. Harry quickly faced him and kissed along his bare shoulders.

Draco's fingers undid the button on Harry's jeans, unzipping him and slipping his hand into Harry's pants. When Draco's hand curved around Harry's remarkably thick cock, Harry cried out and buried his face against Draco's neck. Draco pumped his fist, reveling in the way Harry thrust against his hand and held him tight against his chest.

"Draco…I'm gonna…I wanna touch you too," Harry said, his body beginning to tremble slightly. Harry brought his hand down to the fastenings of Draco's trousers, and Draco pulled his hips away and slowed his movements enough to allow Harry access. He groaned, sinking his teeth lightly into Harry's shoulder when his cock was freed.

Harry was touching him, running his hand up and down the shaft and his thumb over the head. When Draco twisted his wrist a certain way, their cocks brushed together and they both cried out. Harry wrapped his hand around Draco's, pressing their erections together and thrusting against his. Draco took a hand and wrapped it around the other side of their searing flesh. After a few moments of frantic moans and heavy breaths, Harry spilled onto Draco's hand. The feeling of Harry letting go set Draco off and he followed, whispering Harry's name.

They lay there for a few moments, and when Draco opened his eyes, Harry was staring at him wide eyed and ashamed. The look felt like a knife twisting in his stomach and he had to turn his head away. He reached for his wand and cast a cleansing charm on both of them. Once Draco had found his shirt, he turned around just in time to see Harry throw his tee shirt back on and apparate away.

He stayed sitting there in the grass, fingers running over his own scars, for what felt like an eternity.

Draco had to admit that his Aunt Andromeda was an excellent cook. He was used to house elf prepared meals, with only the finest ingredients of course, but this simple fry-up breakfast she served in her clean, modern kitchen warmed Draco to his core. He felt a pleasant pat on his back when he asked for more eggs, and he smiled at the innate feeling of family that seeped through the white walls of the breakfast nook.

He wished that he could feel the contentment that the scene provided, but his insides twisted in agony over the previous night. The look of shame on Potter's face made Draco feel cheap and unworthy; two things he had never felt and should never feel as a Malfoy. Underneath the anger toward that reaction was hurt and regret, however, and Draco wanted nothing more than to hide somewhere and try to rid his mind of all thoughts of Potter. It was no use though, Draco couldn't let go even if he tried.

He resolved to suppress what he could and get on with his new life, leaving Potter as nothing but a niggling hurt in the back of his mind.

When his mother started washing the dishes with her wand while Andromeda fed Teddy something that looked like liquefied sand, Draco went out to the garden to avoid the absurdity and shock. He was never comfortable with domesticity, and seeing his mother happily engaging in it once again made Draco feel like he had entered some sort of parallel universe. The sun was out and the day was just a bit too cheery, but even sitting on a bench in the lavish garden was better than picking up a towel and joining the fray.

After fighting with himself for a few minutes, Draco finally resigned and closed his eyes, succumbing to the memory of Harry's touch and the way he looked at him before he kissed him. Draco wrapped his arms around his torso despite the warm day, chills running up his spine from the realization that he wanted so much more than Potter was obviously willing to give. Draco had never been on the losing end, and the thought turned his stomach.

"Enjoying the garden?" His mother's voice snapped him out of his own reflections.

"It's very detailed, it must have taken a lot of work," Draco remarked, sitting up so make room for Narcissa to sit.

"Andy always was the hardest working of us," She said wistfully. Draco wanted to ask her if she was happy, if she and her sister were getting along, but she broke in again. "Mr. Potter was here for quite some time last night, wasn't he? I didn't even hear him leave."

Draco knew his cheeks were starting to burn. "I suppose, he had to tend to the infant from what I gathered."

"Mhmmm. He seems very different from the way you used to speak of him," She said, her voice taking on a very nonchalant tone. The tone does nothing but make Draco nervous.

"One could make that assumption," Draco answered, practically mumbling now.

"Draco," She sighed, putting a hand on his leg. Dread rose in Draco's mind. Was he that transparent? "There's a fine line between love and hate."

He turned his head away from her, trying to hide his expression from her. He feared he would look like some sort of confused mess and all the poise she had instilled in him would vanish in one sweeping gaze from her. He clenched his fists at his side.

"Andromeda's floo is open to Grimmauld Place," Narcissa said. She took her time rising and walking away from him. Her regal walk was out of place in a pair of Andromeda's worn jeans.

Will you understand,

When I am too old of a man?

Will you forget,

After we have paid our debts?

Who did we borrow from,

Who did we borrow from?

"It looks like we'll have to do this one manually. There are too many support studs here," Ron said, picking up a sledgehammer from the area they were keeping the tools. They had finally moved to the study of Grimmauld Place and were currently taking down an old wall to put up a much sturdier one. It was the only wall to be done in that room, every other one was filled with bookshelves.

"I'll do it," Harry said. He had barely spoken a word all day, but Ron didn't seem to mind. It was always good to have Ron around when he was brooding.

Harry took off his shirt and took the hammer from Ron. He thought of Draco, and how good Draco felt, and then how ashamed and angry was with himself. After those thoughts came flooding into his head, the rage came as quickly. He raised the heavy tool high and brought blow after blow to the ancient plaster. He could hear himself groaning with exertion, and was relieved to let his frustrations out. After what seemed like only a few minutes, the wall was all but destroyed.

"Wanna talk about it, mate?" Ron said, looking at Harry with slight shock.

"You don't want to know," Harry answered bitterly.

"Is it Malfoy?"

Harry flinched when Ron said his name. He knew his cover was blown, but he simply started vanishing bits of wall into the bin outside. He could never talk to Ron about his feelings for someone that Ron absolutely loathed, even if the Wizarding World was more open to him being gay.

"Come on, something is really bothering you. You haven't said more than a few words all day, you just kicked that wall's ass, and you look like you're ready to punch yourself in the face," Ron said, turning over two buckets, sitting on one, and motioning for Harry to sit on the other.

"Damn Hermione for making you so perceptive," Harry murmured, but took a seat.

"I could have the IQ of a troll and still see that something is bothering you," Ron smirked.

"It is Draco. Something happened between us last night when I went over to check on Teddy," Harry said, putting his head in his hands.

"Bit of snogging never hurt anyone," Ron answered. Harry was surprised, but it seemed that his brief time with Narcissa had made Ron more open to Malfoys in general.

"It was more than that," Harry groaned.

"Let's keep the details to ourselves, shall we?" Harry could tell without looking at Ron that he had a slightly sick look on his face.

"I'm so fucked up," Harry lamented.

"Did you like it?"

"Mmhmmm."

"Do you w…want him?"

"Mhmmmm."

"Do you…ugh…have feelings for Malfoy?"

"Gods, yes," Harry said, looking up at Ron. He was surprised to see that Ron obviously didn't hate him. He may have looked a little green, but that glint of trust and compassion that was always in his eyes remained.

"Then I don't see what the big deal is!" Ron threw up his hands.

"I think he might have only done it as payback for me helping him and his mum. He said something before…before we…you know. He tried to thank me. But then, things happened and…Fuck, Ron! I think I used him! I don't think he wanted me, he was just grateful!" Harry gripped his hair tightly.

"I'm not a whore, Harry."

Harry nearly fell off of his bucket when Draco's voice sounded from the doorway. He jumped up and just stood there, staring at Draco, trying to get a grip on what exactly was happening. Draco was standing with an indecipherable look on his face. He didn't look angry or smug, instead he looked nearly uncertain. Harry clenched his fists to keep from grabbing Draco and hauling him against his body.

"What you said…it's not true," Draco said more quietly.

"Yeah, I gotta go. Hermione is leaving for another work trip and I should say goodbye, even though she probably doesn't care," Ron said, practically running out of the room. A few seconds later, he called the floo address of his flat and a 'whoosh' indicated he was gone.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't make you think that you owe me anything…especially like that. I don't know what I was thinking," Harry said, stumbling over his words at the look of something like rage flitting across Draco's features. The other wizard bounded across the room and slammed Harry up against the wall with a painful crash.

"What did I just tell you? Last night I wanted you. Last week I wanted you. On some level, I'm sure I even wanted you last year," Draco's voice remained loud and hard, echoing across the blank, partially-finished room.

Harry's mind was buzzing and his blood was pounding in his ears. He tried hard not to press himself against Draco's warm body. He knew he needed to get a grip before he made himself look like a fool. However, when he felt Draco's warm breath against his cheek, he couldn't resist anymore. Harry put his hands on Draco's slim hips and pressed his burgeoning erection against the other man's groin. Draco's soft moan was perfect in Harry's ears.

"Do you want me today?" Harry whispered, kissing down Draco's face and over his jaw. Draco's hands went up into Harry's hair.

"Yes," He hissed as Harry nipped at his earlobe. "So much."

Harry kissed Draco softly, wanting to savor exactly what his lips felt like. He slid his tongue along the other man's mouth until he felt Draco's tongue rub against his own. Draco tilted his head and Harry moaned at how deeply he was able to kiss him in that angle. Draco's echoing moan went straight to Harry's cock and thrust his hips against Draco's.

Draco's hands made their way over Harry's bare back, long fingers caressing him so tenderly that Harry was sure he was imagining things. When Harry's hands cupped Draco's ass, the other wizard's grip tightened, the sharp points of his nails digging into Harry's skin slightly. Harry couldn't hold his hands still, and ran them up and down Draco's clothed form, marveling at how he seemed to melt under his touch. Draco began to toy with the waistband of Harry's jeans, and Harry wanted so badly for both of them to be rid of their clothes that second. However, he needed to pull back or else he would find himself lost and angry again.

Draco pulled back and looked at him curiously. His hair was a little out of place and his lips were red and slightly swollen. His pale cheeks had a bit of a blush to them, and Harry couldn't help but run his thumb across one. Harry was shocked when Draco leaned into his touch, pressing his face against Harry's palm and sighing.

"Do you want me tomorrow morning? Do you want me a month from now?" Harry asked. He needed to know. He was tired of life dumping surprises in his lap. He just wanted a little security, a little insight into what was going on between the Slytherin and him.

"Who would have thought The Boy Who Lived would be so insecure?" Draco smirked, that classic look that Harry had once found infuriating, but now seemed to stir something inside of him. "But I guess living in cupboard and getting hit for no good reason might exacerbate that." Draco lifted his hand and traced a finger right along Harry's scar.

Harry turned his head, unable to meet such a penetrating gaze, and embarrassed that Draco was paying attention to his scar. Draco's strong hands turned Harry's head to face him.

"I want you for as long as you'll have me, Potter," Draco said fiercely.

The combination of his words and the fire in his features left Harry no doubt, and he wasted no time in pulling Draco's shirt over his head and kissing him frantically. Harry groaned when their bare chests pressed up against each other, the heat and skin feeling so good that Harry hoped momentarily that all the time turners hadn't been destroyed so he could relive the moment someday.

Suddenly, Draco dropped to his knees and Harry felt like he might follow him to the floor. Draco untied Harry's work boots and removed them. He found the gesture startlingly intimate and fought the urge to pull Draco back up against him. He kissed Harry's abdomen while he unzipped his jeans and lowered everything to his ankles. Draco kissed up Harry's legs and over his hip bones. He could feel himself start to tremble already.

"Draco, I…I've never…not even…" Harry couldn't think coherently as Draco's lips moved closer and closer to his cock.

"Good. We're on equal footing then," Draco said.

When Draco's lips wrapped around the head, Harry cried out, gripping Draco's shoulders to keep himself upright. Draco brought his hands to cup Harry's arse and hold him steady. Harry looked down to see his perfect mouth stretched around his cock and he nearly came right then. As it was, it only took a few more swipes of Draco's tongue and thrusts of his mouth before Harry was choking out a warning and coming heavily down Draco's throat.

He fell to his knees then, straddling Draco's thighs, and pulling his face to his in a hungry kiss. Harry was surprised at how much he loved tasting himself in Draco's mouth, and he licked every inch he could get to. Draco was quivering and moaning in his arms in desperation. Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's bare torso, whispered a warning, and apparated them to his bedroom.

The moment they got to the bedroom, Harry finished undressing Draco. He pushed Draco back gently to his bed and had to pause. He was so beautiful that Harry was mesmerized. He was taller than Harry, and his limbs stretched out farther across the bed. He was also thinner than Harry, but not as lanky as Ron. Draco had more defined muscles, and his thinness seemed to fit more naturally on him. His skin was shockingly pale, but it was dusted by light yellow hair in places, making him look real…making him look like a man and not some dreamy ethereal creature that skin like his would usual belie.

His cock was long and thin. It didn't have the girth that Harry's possessed, but it was still impressive. Harry crawled onto the bed and wrapped his hand around the throbbing erection, the sudden action causing Draco to arch up on the bed. After a few moments of watching Draco react, Harry had an idea that he wasn't sure came from anywhere but the deepest recesses of his subconscious.

Harry licked his fingers and reached down past Draco's balls. He circled the tight entrance with just one finger, and Draco whimpered, spreading his legs wider even as his body tensed. Harry could feel his erection springing back to life as Draco clutched his blanket and clenched his jaw. Harry summoned the lube his kept in his bureau and spread it over his fingers. Draco looked up at him wide-eyed.

"I won't hurt you. I promise. Tell me if it's too much," Harry whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. He slowly inserted one finger into Draco's body. They both cried out at the same time, and Harry marveled at how hot and tight Draco was. He wanted to be inside of him so badly. That need both shocked Harry and spurned him forward.

"More," Draco suddenly groaned, bearing down on Harry's hand. Harry obliged and slid another finger inside of him. This time, Draco hissed and Harry froze. But Draco's hips kept moving, so Harry curled his fingers and Draco groaned even more loudly. After a few thrusts, he spread his fingers and Draco let out a keening cry.

Harry took a breath, leaned over to kiss Draco gently, and inserted three fingers into him. Draco froze for a few moments, and Harry took the time before moving. However, after only moving his fingers for a few moments, Draco grabbed his wrist and stopped him

"Gods, Draco, I'm sorry," Harry said, panicking.

"Shut up and fuck me, Potter. Please!" Draco commanded, pulling Harry down to his chest and kissing him hard.

Something snapped inside of Harry in that moment. Hearing Draco beg, feeling him writhe in desperation underneath him was too much. Harry always wanted Draco like this, he always wanted to be needed to fiercely. Lust and determination rippled through him.

Harry gripped his cock and ran it over Draco's entrance. "Do you want me?" he asked hotly. Draco could only groan.

"I want you to ask for it," Harry said, teasing Draco.

"Please, Harry," Draco whimpered. At the sound of his name, Harry couldn't keep up his momentary charade any longer.

Harry entered Draco painfully slowly. Draco was still and silent. When he was fully sheathed, Harry groaned and buried his face in Draco's shoulder. Draco's arms wrapped around Harry and his breaths were heavy in Harry's ear.

"Oh, Harry," Draco moaned, thrusting his hips up. The feeling of Draco moving nearly pushed Harry over the edge. He ran his hands over Draco's carved chest.

"You feel so fucking good," Harry moaned.

"I know," Draco said, and Harry pulled back to see a smirk on Draco's glistening face. Harry kissed up Draco's neck as he wrapped a hand around his cock. He moved his hips in echo to Draco's, moaning with each motion.

After a few delicious moments, Draco's body tensed. He called out Harry's name, gripping his shoulders hard as he spilled onto Harry's hand and his own stomach. Feeling Draco's body clenched around him, Harry let go, spilling inside of Draco, his voice caught in his throat.

When he finally became aware of his surroundings again, Draco lay panting underneath him. His arms were circled around Harry so tightly, Harry thought he might disappear if Draco let go. He pulled his head away and kissed Draco again. When he opened his eyes, Draco was looking at him with an openness he had never seen in the Slytherin before.

"Draco, I…" Harry started.

"Let's save your incessant yammering for after a nap, Potter," Draco said. He reached for his wand and cleaned them up after Harry slowly slipped out of him.

Harry laid his head on Draco's chest, and he fell asleep to the feeling of a light kiss on his forehead and long fingers carding through his hair.