Title: Set You Apart

Word Count: 6,699

Rating: M

Summary: The war tore them apart – Harry has a chance to make things right; to make them both happy.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, this is merely for fun and no profit is being made. All characters/settings belong to J.K Rowling and associates. I just like to write! The lyrics and song title belong to Coldplay (The Scientist).

Authors Note: My first Harry Potter fan-fiction, I've been writing parts of it for a while now but couldn't get it to flow properly. Finally, I got an idea that made it flow better. Some things are canon but other things I have ignored. I hope you enjoy it.

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you, tell you I set you apart.

Harry's back was hurting from all the people that had slapped him on the back for a job well done. His hand and arm ached from all the firm, eager, handshakes. So desperate everyone was to shake his hand, so one day they could tell their children, their grandchildren, how they were there the day Harry Potter saved the world and how they had shook his calloused hand. Calloused from the amount of wand wielding he had done and from the times when the next Quidditch match was his main worry. Trained hard, trained fast. He supposed he should be happy, everyone else seemed to be, even those who had lost loved ones were smiling, smiling for their heroics and for the fact that no one else was going to die to a war. It was two days since the war ended; the house elves were back to work and had prepared a marvelous breakfast for everyone still residing in the Great Hall.

The owls had brought some Daily Prophet's in, how quick they were to print as normal, telling tales and sometimes truth. Today they were telling the truth, all the death eaters that had been rounded up and thrown in holding cells at the Ministry were to be trialed today and tomorrow. There was a list of court times and then the final note, was that they were all expected to receive lifelong Azkaban sentences or a kiss from a dementor. Reading the article only served to bring back one memory to Harry, one that hadn't really gone away since the battle ended.

Draco being held by two Aurors before another sent a Stupefy to his chest and they dragged him away.

His name was bottom of the list. His Mother and Father were being sentenced today. With that, he dropped the paper and left the Great Hall, ignoring the protests of his friends and the offered hugs and handshakes from people wanting just a taste, a tiny touch of their saviour, their Boy-Who-Lived.

It shocked the Ministry when Harry Potter turned up to protest the innocence of Narcissa Malfoy.

But they listened and she was freed.

He sat in on Lucius Malfoy's trial and watched him be sentenced to a lifetime in Azkaban. The new Ministry had ceased use of dementors. Harry slept on the sofa at Grimmauld Place that night, alone and numb. Narcissa had tried to talk to him after the trial but he had slipped away, he couldn't listen to her plead; plead for her son and his lost youth. It was an uncomfortable, old, shabby sofa and when the morning rolled around, he had several aches, muscles that he didn't even know he had were tense and sore. Draco's trial was due to begin at ten thirty; he made it to the ministry at nine.

The Daily Prophet vendor gave him a free newspaper.

People moved out of his way.

People acted like he was a God.

And he hated it.

.

Draco Malfoy had a lot of time to think, every minute of every waking hour; his thoughts swam, so thick and fast that sometimes he thought he might pass out. The stone floor he was sat on was cold, he could feel his arse going numb in the suit trousers he was still wearing and had been wearing since the night of the battle. How inundated the ministry was with death eaters that they couldn't even supply the hideous prisoner jumpsuits. He found himself snorting at the thought and stood up when he heard someone coming down into the cell room. He wondered if the Ministry was playing a game; how many Death Eaters can we send to Azkaban in one day? Today had seen eleven come and go already.

His mother and father had gone yesterday.

He wondered why he was still here and he caught the guard smirking at him. Maybe they were saving the youngest until last; he was the youngest death eater around after all. He felt sick at the pride he felt at that. It was the only thing to be proud of and then, at the same time, it was nothing to be proud of. He bore a mark that was permanent, a sick, distasteful reminder of the things he had been coerced into. He watched the guard lead out a particularly scruffy looking man, who was baring his teeth and seemed quite insane. Maybe that was his plea; insanity. He came to the realisation that all the cells were empty now, except for him. There was a dead rat in the corner for company, however.

Considering the Auror's preached light and goodness, they treated their prisoners fairly badly. The only thing Draco had eaten since the day of the battle was bread and water. Not even any butter. He grimaced at the thought of having to eat that meal again. Maybe they'd be down for him today, too.

Or maybe they'd leave him here to rot.

Would anyone really miss him or even realise?

He thinks not. His Father was surely going to die in Azkaban and his Mother, there was no telling. He wondered briefly if the proclaimed saviour of the wizarding world would think about him. More than likely not, Draco thought bitterly. His heart felt heavy and he realised it was still bound and chained to the love he had found and then lost.

He shook his head and willed away those kinds of thoughts because then he'd be pleading insanity too, only, he wouldn't be faking. He brushed his blond hair away from his eyes and paced his cell, it was tiny and cramped. He had a hole in the floor that constituted a toilet and three planks of wood suspended a little in the air that was supposed to be his bed. No blankets. No pillow. He sat down on the 'bed' and swallowed before curling his hand into a fist, he knew there was a prison cell in Azkaban with his name on it. There was no escaping the inevitable. He leant his head back against the cold stone wall and found himself longing for the dungeons of Hogwarts, Slytherin common room in all its green and silver glory. The four poster bed where he had slept peacefully to the sound of Crabbe's snores and Blaise's fidgeting.

He looked back towards his cell bars when he heard voices. "...not the done thing but anything for you, of course." Draco quirked an eyebrow. "Ten minutes, yell if you need anything, I'll be upstairs."

"Thank you." Draco sucked in some air, a voice that had once sounded so exhilarated, whispered sweet nothing's in his ear, now sounded so broken and hollow. Draco brought his knees up to his chest and curled his arms around them. "God, Draco." Harry had stepped right close to the bars and was gripping them with both hands. "I came to tell you your Mother - she, she's free."

"Not Azkaban?" Draco lifted his head. Harry shook his head and then closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool metal bars.

"Your Father got a lifetime." Draco's breath hitched in his throat and he saw Harry wince. "They've given a lot of life sentences. Say - say most death eaters are of irredeemable character." his knuckles turned white as he gripped the bar harder, his eyes still closed.

"That's me done for then." Draco laughed, the sound made Harry snap his eyes open, piercing green eyes looking directly at the disheveled blond. "What?"

"I'm not going to let them do anything to you. You're going to walk out of here."

"Please." Draco stood up and crossed to the bars. "I don't need you to save me, not now. It's too late for you to run in here, thinking you can be the big man. I won't owe my life to you, Potter." the blond growled. Harry took a step back but kept his eyes trained on the prisoner.

"So - you'd rather rot, rot in a filthy fucking prison cell than swallow your pride?"

"This isn't about pride!" Draco raised his voice and took hold of the bars; they were warm from where Harry had been gripping them moments earlier. "This isn't about pride - this is about you running into save me now that I'm the last person you can save. I asked for your help nearly two years ago and you walked away from me but not before using me as a guinea pig for a spell you'd never fucking heard of."

Harry swallowed.

"You once told me I meant the world to you, well you never traded. The opportunity came for you to choose and you chose the world. So go, go out into the fucking world and live your life. I'd rather rot; I'd rather have a dementor take my soul than ever being a last thought, than ever giving you any glory, than clearing your conscience." Draco pulled away and turned around, going back to his bed, he sat down and stared at a crack in the wall. He heard Harry make a strangled noise that sounded like he was trying not to cry.

"You're part of the world, Draco."

Draco left the bed again, this time he reached his arm through the bar and grabbed hold of Harry's shirt, pulling him close. "No. I'm just a good for nothing death eater. What world am I a part of?" He tried to ignore how close they were, how he could smell Harry's coconut shampoo and a faint hint of marmalade on his breath. Harry always had toast with marmalade.

"You were disposable to Voldemort - don't you see that? By killing him, by choosing what you call the world, over you, I've saved you anyway."

"Bully for you." Draco spat. "Congratulations." He said sarcastically, before his face hardened a touch more. "Thanks for the memories, Potter. Get out." He shoved the raven haired boy roughly away from him but kept his gaze firm.

"Draco..." Harry faltered, stumbling over the right words. "Is this really what you want?"

Draco didn't answer, when he heard footsteps walking away, he sank to the floor, his hands trembling and his heart cracking. He felt bile rising in his throat and his eyes were blurry from tears he was trying desperately not to shed. He had condemned himself to a jail sentence but it was all he deserved, for all the mistakes he had made, for the failure he was, for the coward he had proven himself to be.

"Come to protest another innocence, Harry?" Shacklebolt placed a hand on the seventeen year olds shoulder, making him jump slightly. "You look like you need a good rest."

"I'm fine and no, just thought I would sit in."

"You know him, don't you?"

"I did." Harry tensed his jaw and watched Shacklebolt move away to his post. "I don't now." he sighed softly and made his way to the spectator's area, he sat down on the hard wooden bench. There was no one else here to watch. Did Draco really have no one else that cared for him? The door creaked open and Narcissa came in, her blonde hair tumbling over one shoulder, she sat next to Harry and placed a hand on his knee.

"Are you speaking for him, Harry?" she looked at him with bright blue eyes and he owed her his life, he still felt like his debt to her hadn't been paid. He swallowed and looked away from her. He didn't want to speak for Draco; Draco had made it clear he could speak for himself. "He used to talk to me about you."

He lifted his head and looked at the woman next to him; she was looking into the small cell in the middle of the room that would be shortly housing her son for the time being of his trial. "Probably told you what a prat I was."

"Yes, mostly, first and second year. Third year he said he thought you two were finally friends. I'd never seen him smile like that." she paused for a moment. "It's all he ever wanted from you, friendship. Fourth year, he was growing up, he told me - you two, you'd kissed and he thought that maybe he loved you. He asked me how I knew I loved his father. I said you just know. Then - well."

"I know he didn't know about his Dad's loyalty to Voldemort."

"I tried so hard to protect him from it."

"And I tried so hard to keep me and him going but it got so difficult and then the fight at the Ministry happened and I knew, me and him we were done with."

"He sent me an owl the night you broke up with him."

"He gave me his Slytherin tie; he was trying so hard not to cry." Harry swallowed. "We were on different sides of a war that was heating up. I knew how loyal Malfoy's were, I wasn't going to make him choose, I made the decision for him."

"Why did you do it?" her tone had changed, it sounded slightly harder.

"Do what?"

"Leave him for dead." Harry sucked in a breath and then let it out heavily. "He has scars, you know."

"He does?" she nodded. "I saw him crying, he sent a hex at me but it missed and then he realised it was me and he wanted me to help him. He wanted me to save him; he wanted me to protect him, to help him get out of the mess he was in. It was the first time I saw his mark, I'd never seen him so..."

"You act like you're the only one that bad things have happened to. Guess what, bad things happen to people on the other side too, Harry. I've tried all year to talk to you, I miss you. I have this terrible ache that I don't know how to deal with and now you're here and I can see your eyes, up close and beautiful as ever, it's gone. I never wanted this." Draco paused to pull his shirt sleeve up, revealing an angry dark mark, writhing on his forearm. Harry swallowed. "I never wanted this, why won't you save me? The whole world but me, Harry, I thought I meant more to you."

"You do-"

"Stop lying. You and I both know you won't walk out of here right now holding my hand, telling the world how you feel about me, telling the world that you're choosing to protect me, telling the world that you'd die for me. Die for me, would you?"

"I -"

"You wouldn't but you'll die for them."

"...I pushed him away from me; he called me a liar when I told him I loved him, he shot a spell at me, it just escalated. Until I made the biggest mistake of my life and walked away from him, bleeding. He doesn't want me to help him now; he said he'd rather go to Azkaban, maybe for once I should just do what he wants."

"It's just a front." Narcissa said, brushing a fleck of dirt from her robes. "You and he could be happy now there's no war to fight, no side to choose."

"I know, I -"

"Court in session, please bring in Draco Malfoy to be sentenced."

The room fell silent as Shacklebolt spoke, Harry closed his eyes, his stomach felt like it was in knots, if he didn't stand up and say anything when he had a chance to, Draco would be condemned to a life in prison. He was only seventeen; they had a life ahead of them. He opened his eyes and saw Draco in the small cell; he was looking down at the floor. "Please." Narcissa whispered, he looked to her and then nodded.

"State your name."

"Draco Malfoy."

"You are brought here on the charges of being a death eater, working directly alongside Voldemort and carrying out tasks for the aforementioned person. How do you plead?"

"Guilty."

Harry swallowed and gripped on to the bench in front of him, it wasn't his time to speak yet. He listened to the conversation, back and forth. Draco answered each question quickly and clearly and also, honestly. Then Shacklebolt directed to the spectator stand if anyone wished to speak on behalf of the accused. Harry stood up, his hands were trembling, he hadn't felt this nervous about speaking for Narcissa. "State your name."

"Harry James Potter."

"What is your relationship to the accused?"

Harry couldn't help but laugh softly, making several people raise their eyebrows. Draco still hadn't looked up. He looked around the room once more, at all the faces waiting for an answer. "Ex-boyfriend." The blond's head snapped up and his silver eyes met vivid green ones from across the room, there were some collective gasps but Harry couldn't hear them, not over the sound of his heartbeat and Draco's eyes looking into his, not breaking the contact.

"Order." Shacklebolt half-yelled, making the room fall silent. "Very well. You may speak."

"I don't want you to see me as Harry Potter standing here. I want you to forget all that. When I met Draco he was a smug little git that I didn't want to be friends with. He was a bully to me and my friends for two years. In third year, I started to skip my divination classes..."

The wind was blowing quite nicely, more like a breeze; it went through his hair and lifted it up a little as he sat down cross legged on the grass by the lake. He should be in class but he just couldn't make the effort to go, he needed to breath. The walls of the castle felt increasingly more tight and controlled, everyone was trying to keep him safe, keep him indoors, away from harm. He just felt like an animal being caged, only let loose when someone else said it was okay. He lets out a heavy sigh and pulls a book out of his bag, opening it at its marked page, he's only read a paragraph when he hears a familiar voice behind him. Malfoy. Fabulous. "Potter - Potter!" The familiar drawl calls, with the sound of sticks cracking beneath footsteps down the hill to the lake. He sincerely hopes Malfoy is alone - that, he might just be able to deal with.

"Yes?" He replies, not bothering to turn around, instead he closes his eyes and counts to ten in his head, he really doesn't want to fight, he just wants some peace.

"I think you dropped something." to his surprise when he opens his eyes, Malfoy is standing next to him and holding out his Defense against the Dark Arts text book. He doesn't make a move to take it, this is Malfoy and he won't willingly hand back something of Harry's without either severe mockery or some sort of payment. "Fine." the book lands by his feet with a loud thump and the Slytherin walks a little away from Harry before sitting down in a similar fashion. Harry watches curiously as the boy pulls out a textbook and a notepad and starts writing something down. "No need to thank me, Potter."

"Thank you." he's not sure why he says it, he's nothing to thank Malfoy for, it's not even his book really, it's one from the library. Their eyes connect for a moment when Draco lifts his head and nods curtly before going back to his work. "Shouldn't you be doing the Potions essay we have due, rather than reading fairytales?"

Was Draco making conversation with him? He's having a nightmare right? Pinch yourself, Harry, this isn't real! "How do you know I haven't already done it?" he blurts out. The Slytherin lifts his head again and quirks an eyebrow but otherwise shows no emotion.

"First time for everything, I suppose." the blond shrugs his shoulders and goes back to his work, there's silence for a while, only the noise of Harry turning pages as he reads and Draco's quill scratching against parchment. Harry felt a little queasy, mostly because this whole exchange didn't feel entirely uncomfortable. He can't concentrate on his book so he puts his marker in place and then closes it over, dropping it onto the grass next to him. "Three rat tails, added to a dozen..." Draco was mumbling to himself as his eyes flicked between his text book and his parchment. Harry knows he should look away, just why was he staring anyway? He grimaces and starts throwing his books back into his bag.

"Any particular reason you came to sit next to me by the lake?" he asks, closing over his bag and stretching his legs out. There was the whole perimeter of the lake; there was a million places Draco could sit rather than here.

"I didn't come and sit next to you. I usually come here if the common room and library is too busy, Potter. Common room is full of idiots making bets on when a dementor will next try to attack you." Harry looks back to Draco when he answers, confused. Then the blond lets out a growl, quickly shoves his belongings away and stands up. "I happen to think dementors aren't something to laugh about and won't partake in anything to do with them." there was a flicker of emotion that crossed the Slytherin's face that Harry couldn't work out. He just nods and watches the blond walk back up the hill, at a quick pace.

.

"Oh, Potter, what are you doing here?" A voice says, almost exasperatedly. Harry tightens his lips and doesn't answer, just picks up another stone and throws it out against the lake, he watches it bounce across the surface several times before disappearing. He was in no mood to be around Malfoy, regardless of their rather civil meetings by the lake, lately. He had taken a shine to skipping Gryffindor's Divination class lately and found himself spending it down here, though most days, that meant spending it with Malfoy too. Who was surprisingly quiet, sometimes they didn't speak, sometimes they made tight conversation, sometimes they'd insult each other. Today Harry wasn't in the mood for any of those things, he was still feeling a little achy from his fall in the Quidditch match and tired from his Patronus training with Lupin. "Earth to Potter?" He feels someone shove his shoulder.

"Malfoy. Leave me alone."

"Sulking, are we?" Draco drops his bag to the floor and picks up a stone, he throws it out to the lake, successfully getting it further than Harry's had gone. He smirks and then realises Harry is glaring at him. "Well, sulk in silence; I've got work to do."

"Is there any other way to sulk but in silence?" Harry asks, plonking himself down on to the grass and lying on his back. Strangely, he was leaving himself wide open to be attacked by Malfoy but he felt reasonably sure that the Slytherin wasn't here to cause trouble. He seemed to save that for when both of them were in company. The sound of Draco's quill scratching against his parchment starts to grate on Harry after a while, partly because he remembers he has detention with Snape tonight and still hasn't done any of his pile of homework that's sat in his dormitory. He runs a tongue across his lips and then leans his head to the side to look at the other boy. "I'm not sure how Hermione keeps beating your grades; you seem to do more work and studying than she does."

"I've been asking myself the same question for nearly three years, Potter." the blond replies through gritted teeth. He sighs and puts his quill down for a moment. "Snape told me if I run into you, I've to tell you the detention is at five now instead of six."

Harry scoffs and sits up. "Oh, he hates me, that means I'll miss dinner! Wait, why'd he ask you?"

"I've got detention with him, too." Harry raises an eyebrow at this. "I couldn't bite my tongue in time before I made a sarcastic remark to him. He also took five points from Slytherin, so your fancy ideas about him having something against you are clearly not true."

"Really, if that was me, it'd be five detentions and fifteen points from Gryffindor." Harry says, resuming his position lying down and looking up at the sky. Draco watches him for a moment before picking his quill back up. "I guess you'll miss dinner too then, there is a positive after all."

"Charming. You'd like to watch me starve." Draco drawls but Harry catches something else - a tone of teasing, playfulness. Draco looks up when he hears movement and only catches the Gryffindor running off up the hill and back towards the castle.

.

"Mr Potter, do you have your essay?"

"No, sir."

"Very well, five points from Gryffindor for yet again missing a deadline." Harry looks at him in disgust, watching the professor turn away, he rests his head down on his arms, on the desk. He closes his eyes, not looking forward to the next hour spent in this company and he can already feel hunger gnawing in his stomach. Do not think about food, Harry. "You have until Monday to give me that essay, Potter." He opens his eyes, only to roll them but catches Draco looking at him. He pulls a face and sits up, looking at Snape who's now sat at his desk.

"Forgive me Professor but I've been more concerned with staying alive than your stupid essay." He can see a ghost of a smile on Draco's lips, from the corner of his eye. Then he cringes.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek and that essay is due tomorrow, Potter. If I don't have it, I assure you, I will find suitable punishment."

Harry groans and puts his head down on the desk, he can hear Draco titter on the desk next to him though and he can't help but smile.

.

"Doesn't anyone ever notice you missing from Divination?"

"Yes, they just don't do anything about it. Trelawney's hardly Snape." Harry replies, leaning his head back and watching Malfoy walk down the hill, he doesn't have a bag with him today just a piece of parchment in his hand. He sits down surprisingly close to Harry and throws the parchment into the Gryffindor's lap.

"Speaking of Snape, there's your Potions essay. Copy it down and go hand it in."

"What?" Harry unfolds the parchment and sees five neat paragraphs; he quickly skims it over and then looks up at the Slytherin. "Did you do this?" A quick nod but no sound. Harry fingers the parchment, he feels dizzy with the amount of questions buzzing around his head. "Why?"

"Friends help each other out."

"You think we're friends?"

"Are we not?"

"I never really thought about it." Harry answers, sliding the parchment into his bag. Were they friends? They had seen each other privately most days but they still hurled insults at each other during classes and passings in the hall. He shrugs his shoulders and brushes a stray strand of grass of off his trousers. Draco looks thoughtful for a moment.

"I think we can be. Between us, of course."

Oh, it's a secret, Harry thinks. He then extends his right hand out, squinting as the sunlight glares on his glasses. "Shake on it, then." Draco rolls his eyes but takes hold of Harry's hand, shaking it three times and then pulling away. "Thanks for the essay. You didn't have to; I would've just taken the punishment, if he thinks he can scare me into doing the damn thing..."

"Ever the hero, Potter." The Slytherin turns his head to look out at the lake and then sighs, "Hogsmeade tomorrow, are you going?" Harry shakes his head, no, definitely not, since he had neither a parent nor a guardian to sign his form.

.

The air was getting cooler now; he bends over to pick up a stone. He rolls it around in his palm before throwing it across the lake. He watches it bounce across the surface, vaguely aware of someone behind him but not caring all that much. He was tired of people. People trying to make him smile, people trying to make him laugh, people asking him what's wrong, people asking him if he's okay. He exhales. That or he had to listen to them go on about their Hogsmeade trip last weekend.

He screws his face up. He had asked the Dursley's to sign his form of course but they saw it as fit punishment - for what, he doesn't know - not to sign it. He throws another stone out, a small, frustrated, sigh escaping as he does. Just who the hell was standing behind him and not saying anything? It was awfully rude to just stand and watch. He wouldn't turn around though. He runs a hand through his hair, untangling several strands. He rolls his eyes up to the sky, it's definitely not Hermione, she'd be mothering him already. It could be Ron. He's the type to linger awkwardly not knowing what to say. "Look - Ron - I'll grab some food from the kitchen later, alright?"

An indignant noise sounds behind him. "I can't believe you just mistook me as a Weasley." Oh. Malfoy he could deal with. Why wasn't his first thought Malfoy? He's in the spot they usually go to. He turns a round, the corners of his lips raised into a small smile. The blond stands with his arms crossed. "Why are you out here sulking?" Harry pulls a face and turns back around. He most certainly wasn't sulking, he was being antisocial, there was a difference. He tries not to let his thoughts wonder though, to thoughts of how easy it feels with it being Draco here, how he doesn't mind that it's Draco, how, in some ways, he'd rather it be Draco here than Hermione or Ron. He runs a tongue over his lips and then shoves his hands into his pockets.

"No."

"Saw you head out of the Great Hall. Did you eat?"

"Oh! Not you as well!" Harry says, throwing his hands into the air.

"Sorry."

"No - I am." Harry sighs and sits down on the grass, resting his arms on his knees. "You should go before someone sees you talking to me. I'll be skipping Divi as usual tomorrow."

"Harry?" The raven haired boy looks up as Draco stands next to him before crouching down. "I got you something." the Slytherin moves a hand to one of his robe pockets before pulling out a medium sized chocolate bar. "Honeydukes; the most expensive and most delicious."

"Why?" Harry asks, taking the chocolate bar and running his fingers over it. Stupid, really, it was just a bar of chocolate but Draco had bought it for him and even though their friendship was relatively new and they were still learning about each other, Draco had thought about him. Enough to buy him something. He looks up into silver eyes and smiles softly. "Thank - thank you."

"Oh, bloody Gryffindor; it's only a chocolate bar." Draco knocks Harry on the shoulder before standing up to his full height and walking off.

"...he was something special. I sort of had to admire him because every day he put on a front, that he was cold, cruel, indifferent. You...you were never any of those things, Draco. Warm, funny, thoughtful, caring, I liked to hear you laugh the most because it was so; it made me feel so alive. It made me forget for a moment. You made the world a brighter place for me, Draco and there are so many things I regret."

The room was silent, Draco was looking at Harry in awe and disbelief, his Mother had tears in her eyes. Harry couldn't stop now, he didn't want to, the world needed to know. "Draco strived to make his Father proud, every year he was made to feel like a failure because he didn't get the best grades. I understand why he used to get so angry when I would get the snitch before him - it was just another failure for him. I never saw him fail at all, I saw someone who never gave up, who always tried and tried harder. If he got knocked down, it wasn't for long; he picked himself up, brushed himself of and in true Malfoy style, held his head above others."

"I can't be sure but my reasoning is that he became a death eater; out of fear and family loyalty but also because finally, just maybe he could make his Father proud." Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure he ever got it. I know of two people that were always proud of you though, Draco and we're right here. We're still proud of you. You wanted me to choose you over the world, well, I'm doing it. I don't care what happens - I'll be with you until the very end."

He saw Draco swallow. Harry looked away and towards Shacklebolt. "Regardless of anything I've said, let's look at this as what it is. He's seventeen years old, dragged from his education into a dark world that he didn't even want to be in. He helped me and my friends get away from his manor when we were captive there, he did not commit any major crimes. He's seventeen, he deserves a life, the war has taken enough."

Harry sat down and breathed heavily.

Draco finally looked away, this time he kept his head held up and looked directly at the Wizengamot that was to determine his fate.

Harry smiled. Draco hadn't given up.

.

"Merlin, Draco..." Harry dropped his forehead to Draco's, their bodies sticking together slightly from sweat, Harry trailed open mouthed kisses down the blond's stubbled jaw, to his collarbone were he sucked lightly and then raised his head again. "I never forgot." he said, a little breathless still.

"Forgot what?" the ex Slytherin asked, his voice laced with tiredness, his arms wrapped around the raven haired boy's neck, keeping their bare bodies close, their breathing was slowly returning to normal.

"How beautiful you were." Draco flushed and turned his head to the side; Harry moved his lips to Draco's ear and nibbled it gently. "I fell asleep every night holding your tie. You were there every step of the way." he whispered the last words and then nuzzled his face into Draco's neck, the blond turned his head and pressed feather light kisses to damp black hair.

"I can't believe how life can change."

"So quickly."

"This morning I was in a dirty prison cell fully prepared to grow old in Azkaban and now, just a few hours later, I'm naked in bed with the guy I thought I'd lost forever. I'm sorry I got mad with you."

"You had every right to." Harry lifted his head again and pressed a chaste kiss to Draco's lips. He was about to speak again when there was a knock on the bedroom door, Harry rolled off Draco, reluctantly and pulled a blanket over them both. "Kreacher?"

"Master Potter, there is an attempt to get through the floo."

"Do you know who it is?"

"It is an attempt from The Burrow residence."

Harry blanched, that would be Ron and Hermione trying to get through. It would already be out in the Evening Prophet about what had happened in Draco's court session. Harry felt no remorse, he felt no regrets, he finally felt content. He was finally allowing himself to be happy. He flicked his eyes to Draco, who was biting his lip, his body tense. "Don't let them through but please pass on a message - tell them I'm happy. They'll understand."

Kreacher nodded and bowed, backing out of the room.

"Shouldn't you talk to them?"

"Hermione will give me this disappointed, why-didn't-you-tell-me look and Ron will just explode and try to kill you, probably. I want to just be alone with my world right now."

Draco smiled.

Harry had been his world since they met when they were eleven and now, finally, he was Harry's whole world.