"For Merlin's sake, Draco," Harry yelled, audibly splashing through the water standing on the street. Draco paid no attention and continued on. The idiot could carry on in the rain as long as he wanted. Draco wasn't stopping, not even for The Boy Who Lived.

Then there was a hand on his shoulder, halting his progress. He clenched his jaw. If it was a fight the boy wanted, it was a fight he would get. After all, the boy knew better than to stop him when he was mad. Draco was turned around to face the other boy, soaking black hair plastered to his skull, green eyes staring at him through round rims, eyebrows drawn together.

"What do you want from me, Harry?" he found himself asking, not really meaning to. He was supposed to be staying silent and Apparating back to his own home when he was far enough away. Draco found that he couldn't leave though, not when the idiot in front of him was looking at him that way.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. I do not have to endure any of that," he gestured sharply at the house. "Never mind the fact that I'm a Malfoy," he said, waving his hand dismissively at Harry's expression. That wasn't his point, but of course Harry would jump on it in defense of his friends. No one deserved the shit that he'd had to take for the last hour.

"They weren't being that bad. You're just being overly sensitive."

"Overly sensitive!? Potter you didn't hear half of what they were saying, too distracted by the Weaslette to see the looks and hear the insults. I'd say that it's a miracle I lasted as long as I did," he said coldly with narrowed eyes. He paid no attention to his soaked blonde hair and his clothes that stuck to his frame. Contrary to popular belief, neither of those two were constantly his primary concerns.

"Potter? Did you just call me Potter?" Draco couldn't miss the hurt tone in the other boy's voice. "And Ginny's my friend; I can talk to her can't I?"

"Yes, you can talk to your ex-girlfriend all you want as your boyfriend's getting tormented by your "family", he can take care of himself. Hell, why don't you go back now? You don't have your boyfriend to worry about anymore, if you ever did worry." Draco walked a few more steps until he was out of any wards and out of sight of any Muggles. He concentrated on the image of his bedroom back at his own home and was about to Apparate when Harry grabbed onto his arm. He looked furious.

"What are you getting at?" Draco stared at him for a minute. Surely he couldn't be that stupid. But no, he was talking about something different.

"I'm getting at the fact that your friends all hate me for being with you and if you keep siding with them, I'm going to leave and I'm going to be gone for good," he answered, fixing Harry with his sharpest look to get the point across.

"I still think that you're making too much out of this," he said quietly, looking absolutely conflicted. Draco didn't care though; he wanted to finally know what Harry's priorities were. He didn't ignore all of his common sense and surreptitiously test Harry for nothing. He didn't put himself in the position he did just to be second best. He wanted to know how important he really was. The comment further fueled his fire.

"What do you know, of course you do." He reached for something else to say but couldn't get his thoughts in the right order to say it so he threw his hands up. "You know what, fuck this. Goodbye, Potter. Don't bother chasing after me." Draco pulled his arm out of Harry's grip and ran several paces down the alley so it wouldn't be so quick to return. This time he didn't focus on anything in particular, just someplace away. Before the familiar feeling caught hold of him though, a hand caught hold of him first.

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It was wet and the ground beneath him was soft. Draco groggily picked his head up to look around. It was immediately impossible to tell where he was because there was thick fog everywhere. He found that he was lying on the ground though and he sat up as fast as he dared. As soon as he was up, he looked for signs of splinching, remembering the last minute grab at his arm.

Once he was satisfied that there were no gaping wounds or missing appendages, he stood up. There was no way of seeing past the fog and all he had was his little bubble of visibility that extended for maybe four feet in each direction.

"Draco!? Are you here somewhere?" he heard Harry yelling from a few feet behind him. He had the urge to not answer but he knew that Harry was going to find him anyway. There was also the fact that there was a little part of him that wanted to forgive him. His anger was blinding and it was still there under everything, but he couldn't deny that he still cared. And Harry sounded worried…

He shook his head at himself. There had been a time when he was the Ice Prince, and now he was abandoning his dignity for the Golden Boy and a Gryffindor no less. It was all because of that one night at the castle before the war. He was giving up his anger for his other feelings. If only his father could see him. Lucius would be furious.

"Right here!" he yelled, nevertheless. Less than ten seconds after he gave the alert, he was joined in his little bubble of visibility by the messy haired young man. There was a look of worry on his face and it relaxed when the green eyes set on Draco.

"Oh good, you're okay." He looked and sounded relieved by that fact and probably the fact that Draco wasn't yelling at him or freaking out. That was about to change though.

"What were you thinking?! Grabbing onto me while I was Disapparating? You could have killed or severely injured one or both of us!"

"But I didn't."

"That's not the point. I don't know where we are and I don't know what you're still doing here, but I'm leaving." He started walking into the fog just to get away from his black-haired boyfriend. He needed to be away for a while.

"Draco, come on, stop being ridiculous." Of course he followed. Draco stopped and sighed, waiting for the other boy to catch up. He turned around as soon as Harry was close enough.

"Harry, do you honestly know what happens when your friends come over to your place when I'm there with you?" he demanded, looking Harry in his eyes. He couldn't believe that Harry would let it happen if he knew what did happen.

He got another cross between a blank and a conflicted look as a response and huffed. Draco turned around again to leave. He pictured his home and realized something. He really didn't know where the fuck they were and therefore had no idea how far away from home he was. Apparition was risky over long distances and he didn't particularly feel like dying, hadn't for about two years. So he stopped where he was and cursed while Harry—who had been right behind him the whole time—came up to stand beside him.

"I don't suppose you know where we are, do you?" he asked bitterly, hands clenched into fists by his sides. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Harry shake his head with an equally troubled look on his face.

"Come on," Harry said, taking his wrist and starting to walk in a direction. Draco tried pulling his arm out of his grip but it was to no avail, Harry's grip was too strong.

"Could you tell me where the hell we're going then?"

"We're going to find someone to tell us where we are, that way we can get home."

"Where do you think we're going to find people who would help us when we don't even know where we are? For all we know, we're in some deserted place thousands of miles away from civilization, wizard or Muggle."

"Or, for all we know, there's a town or a house a few feet in front of us. We'll never know until we look. Stop being difficult and just trust me," Harry said, though it was a bit more like a request. And it wasn't said in an 'I-saved-the-world-so-I'm-entitled-to-lead-anyone- anywhere' voice, it was just a simple request. That part of Harry was still a bit unnerving, the part that didn't want to use his heroism for his benefit.

Draco couldn't deny that Harry had a point so he walked with him in the random direction that the messy-haired wizard had picked. It was rather dark so Draco at least knew that they were still in England. He took his wand out and illuminated the tip. Harry bit his lip but did the same.

They continued in the dark and the thick fog. The only thing that they really found out was that there wasn't a house or a town or any life a few feet in front of them. Draco couldn't help but think that they weren't close to many, if any, people.

"There's someone somewhere," Harry muttered, responding to Draco's thoughts the way he did. Draco raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. The anger was settling down, just brewing in his stomach.

"So, are you going to tell me what torture my friends make you go through that has you so upset?" Harry asked. The anger spiked again.

"It's not a light matter, I resent the tone," Draco said emotionlessly. He would yell if he had to, only then. He didn't have the energy to do it at the moment.

"Fine. What is it that they say or do?" The tone wasn't light anymore, but it still wasn't serious. It sounded more like Harry was just putting up with it so he could get his answer.

"Forget about it. You don't care enough to know, or you don't think it's serious. Either way, just forget about it."

"Draco Malfoy," Harry said firmly. Draco just walked faster. The anger was reaching up and he was tired of biting it down. The only way to get rid of it without going completely ballistic was to get away. There was a hand on his arm again though.

"Dammit Draco, just tell me what it is that happens to you. If you don't tell me I can't believe you and I can't do anything. You don't usually complain about this so I can't think that it happens a lot." Harry sounded mad, his voice was raised and Draco knew that they were in for a fight.

"I don't complain about it because I know you won't listen to anything I say against your friends. I play the good little boyfriend and I suck it up, just let it go, try to ignore it. Obviously I'm fan-fucking-tastic at it." He still wasn't looking at Harry and his pace picked up a little more. Harry matched him.

"What about tonight? You obviously didn't do that tonight."

"I couldn't ignore it anymore. I decided I was done so I left." His own voice was rising and he stopped walking. If there was any more, he was going to yell. Harry opened his mouth to reply but he was cut off by a different voice.

"Hello?! Is there someone out there?" It sounded like an old man yelling. Draco turned to the noise and Harry did too. There was a yellowish light bobbing in front of them, still concealed by the fog. It was moving closer though.

Harry snapped into action, extinguishing his wand and putting it away in his jeans. He motioned quickly for Draco to do the same and he was mouthing the word 'Muggle'. When Draco figured it out he did the same and barely got his wand into his pocket before an old man holding what looked like light in glass and in a cage came into the bubble of visibility.

"Ah, it is someone, two of ya even. How did you two find yourselves out here in this weather?" Harry moved to answer, which was for the best as Draco was still staring at the caged light, wondering what the hell it was. It was a flame-less lantern, but Draco wasn't sure how the Muggle managed it.

"Well sir, we're quite lost and we aren't sure exactly where things are. Could you happen to tell us what town we're in?"

"You ain't in no town, son. Ya only have me and me wife's home some meters away." The old man had stepped closer. His wrinkles went deep and he was peering at them curiously.

"Are we near a town?" Harry asked. He sounded a little uncertain now.

"Well, yee've got Painswick a few kilometers away. Don't know 'bout any others than that," he said. Draco frowned and turned his attention away from the object in the man's hand. The man was using Muggle measurements and Draco had no idea what he was talking about.

"I don't know where that is," he said, looking down at the man. This was all very exasperating.

"Sir, do you think that you could provide some kind of transportation to Painswick for us? We can repay you," Harry jumped back in, giving Draco a 'back down' look.

"Aye, but you'd have to wait until the morning. There's a storm a coming through all this fog. Yee'd best come to the house with me. We'll put you up for the night and I can help ye in the morning," the man said, turning to go back from where he'd come as if they'd already agreed to take him up on his offer.

Harry looked at Draco and nodded. "We're going to have to go with him. If there's a storm coming and it's the only shelter for miles we have to stay with him. Besides, neither of us has any idea where we are in regards to London."

Draco gritted his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to go with Harry and this Muggle. He would rather be wandering around in the fog or just trying to Apparate from where they were. For some inexplicable reason he was still following though and he knew that he wasn't going to stop.

He wasn't sure how long they walked until they came upon a farmhouse and the old man led the way up the front stairs and through the door. Draco followed Harry through and could hear the man already explaining to his wife that they had guests. He saw the light cage sitting on the table and couldn't help going to it to examine it.

"It's an electric lantern. Since Muggles don't have wands to carry around light, this is how they do it. I don't know why he doesn't have a flashlight," Harry said from behind him, also looking at the 'electric lantern'.

Draco turned it around in his hands. "It seems inconvenient."

"Probably is. That's why most Muggles use flashlights. They're a bit like the 'Lumos' charm, but bulkier and they only light up."

He hummed, still looking at the contraption, opening and closing a little door in its side that exposed a glass bulb. Just then, the Muggle man came out with his wife. "Ooh, you poor dears. Come into the kitchen and I can fix ya something to eat," she said upon seeing them.

Draco was about to say something but Harry's hand was on his back, leading him into the kitchen without a word. He was too startled by the contact to protest or say anything and he—uncharacteristically—let himself be led into the kitchen of the farmhouse.

He knew that Muggles couldn't cook with magic, but he didn't know exactly how they compensated and he was unprepared for the sight of the kitchen. There were dishes everywhere and the woman was moving between all of them, stirring or checking or putting some other ingredient into it. It was a bit overwhelming to watch.

Draco was directed into one of the chairs by the table and Harry sat down next to him. The farmer sat down at the table as well. It wasn't long until there was a dish set down in front of him, the same as Harry's, steam still rising from its top.

"Eat, eat, Heaven knows how long the two of ya have been travelling. I won't let you up from the table until you're done with what yee've got," the woman said, waving her spoon at him and Harry in turn. Then she turned back to her pots and pans.

Draco looked down at what he had. It looked alright and it smelled good enough. Cautiously, he dipped the spoon into the bowl and put some of the soup-like stuff in his mouth. It didn't taste bad, in fact, it tasted like food that he'd had before back at Hogwarts and even at the Manor. Across from him, Harry was already downing his bowl.

He always ate like that. Draco knew that it was because he didn't get fed as much when he was living with his aunt and uncle. Harry had never grown out of it, the habit of eating as quickly as he could when he had food. It was sad and endearing and embarrassing all at the same time but he oddly loved it.

Soon, Harry's was empty and Draco was only half done. He didn't think that he was probably going to eat the rest of it, so—after some hesitation and thought—he moved the bowl over to Harry's side of the table and the messy-haired boy began to attack it as well.

The farmer's wife was sitting down at the table now and she was looking back and forth between him and Harry. Draco noticed that—as her husband talked or told some story or whatever—she was looking at him intently. Unable to figure it out mentally, he looked down at himself to roughly the place where her gaze seemed to be resting.

He found himself looking at his left forearm. The wet material of the white shirt was sticking to his skin and the black markings on his arm were showing through. Though faded, the Dark Mark was still very apparent on his pale skin, especially the way the wet shirt was virtually acting as a window to it. Uncomfortably, Draco pulled up his sleeve so it wasn't in contact with his arm and he crossed his arms, the left one behind the other.

"That's an interesting tattoo, dearie. What is it of?" the woman asked, still looking at his folded arms. Draco didn't intend to answer and merely looked down, working to ignore it.

"It's a dragon," Harry said, making Draco look up. "Just a little one, for his name, Draco," he said, looking at the other two and nodding at their understanding.

"I've never heard that name a 'fore. So what's yer name, son?" the farmer asked Harry.

"My name is Harry," he answered quietly, looking across the table at Draco, who looked down at the top of the table, really wishing that he wasn't seated there anymore.

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Later on, the husband and wife were showing them their rooms. Draco was surprised that a little house like theirs had more than two rooms, but it was something he was grateful for. Despite everything, he was still mad and he knew that Harry was still irritated.

The woman was piling more sheets into his arms and he snapped himself out of his mind to look down at her and tell her that he would be alright with what he had so far. She gave a little, 'oh', and took to weighing him down with comforters. Draco tried not to roll his eyes and repeated the procedure. Eventually she let him go into his room in peace.

It was small. There was barely enough room for the bed and a dresser with a mirror. Draco frowned a little but he set the stuff on the bed. He supposed he didn't mind. It wasn't like he was going to be living there for longer than one night. Besides, his room in his own flat wasn't very spacious either. Not like the Manor anyway, which was just as well.

Draco got into bed and situated everything around him before leaning back into the pillow with a sigh. Everything caught up to him and he winced a little at the headache it caused.

The first moment he was at Harry's house, the second, he was inside to wait anxiously for the others to show up. Then shit decided to happen. Draco had to think about all of the glares that he got, the dropped comments and little hints that he didn't belong in their group. He sighed as the slideshow of memories came to the moment when he stood up and stormed out of the house. Then everything else happened and here he was, in bed in a strange house, in strange clothes, not knowing where he was. It was enough to make anyone wish they were asleep.

Draco shut the lights off with his wand, not remembering how the hell else to do it, or wanting to try to figure it out. He knew it, Harry had taught him before, but the way his head was going through everything else, it didn't come to mind fast enough for his liking. He burrowed his way under the covers and closed his eyes, wanting the day to be done.

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It was dark when he opened his eyes, but he was getting used to the darkness. He got up from his bed and went through the door and down the stairs. Everything was still dark but for the green glow that came from one of the other rooms. Draco knew that he wasn't awake by chance, and he knew that the reason he was awake was in the other room, calling to him.

He tried to go back up the stairs but there was something holding him in place. The only way he could go was forward, toward the room and the ominous light. Since there was no other choice besides staying where he was—and that wouldn't last long—he went nervously forward.

As soon as he was in the room, the noise picked up. When the loud, evil laughter started, all the Death Eaters on the sides of the room joined in. Draco steeled himself and wiped his face clean of any emotion, standing tall and proud and, most importantly, unafraid.

The snake's mouth opened, quieting everyone in the room. "Draco," he purred, sending a sick chill up Draco's spine. He couldn't see where his father was among all of the other Death Eaters, but he could see his mother, face strained, looking like it was taking all her might not to go toward him. "Come forward," the Dark Lord said again.

Once again, Draco took care to straighten his back and keep his muscles somewhat loose. Everything would be worse if the Dark Lord was able to see his fear. Draco walked forward when he was ready and approached the great snake on his 'throne'. He had an idea about what was going to happen, what the Dark Lord called conditioning. When he was right in front of the 'throne', he had to work hard to keep himself from tensing up.

Everyone else in the room knew what was going to happen, too. It had happened before. Draco saw his aunt, Bellatrix, looking eager while his mom looked sick. Still, he couldn't see his father though he knew his face was blank.

There was the sound of moving fabric and Draco looked back at the Dark Lord, who had drawn his wand and pointed it straight at him. With a lazy, unconcerned tone he flicked the wand and said, "Crucio."

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"Draco, Draco wake up. Come on, wake up, Draco you're okay." His gray eyes snapped open to see bright green eyes in front of his own. Harry was right there, on the bed, next to him where he was safe from Draco's flailing arms. Draco's chest was still moving up and down frantically. His body was exhausted and he could still feel the ghost effects of the curse ingrained on his body.

Now that he wasn't thrashing around though, Harry leaned over and held him to his chest, shifting him so Draco was in his lap. Draco looked down at his left arm and saw that, sure enough, the Dark Mark was dark black instead of its usual faded color, looking like it did as soon as he'd gotten it. He moved to get out of Harry's lap to get something to cover the damn thing up.

Harry tightened his grip though. "What are you doing? Come on Draco, you can't still be mad at me." Draco thought about it and realized that he really wasn't. He still wished that Harry would listen to him about his friends, but it wasn't his primary concern anymore.

Since he couldn't get out of the Auror's grip—which was probably a good thing, considering—he just leaned forward as much as possible, grabbing at the blanket. Of course, the farmer had to give him a short sleeved shirt. He pulled up as much as he could and pulled it over his arm. Harry noticed though, and let go of him.

Draco took advantage of the opportunity, and got off of his lap, moving to the headboard in an instant. There, he huddled up, covering the Dark Mark and returning Harry's gaze. Harry noticed, of course, what he was doing. Slowly, he moved a little closer and tried to pull Draco's arm away from his body. This time, though, his determination helped him resist Harry.

"Draco," Harry said softly, gently. "I've seen it before. It's not who you are anymore. You know that. We both know that."

"I don't care. You don't have to see it like this. You don't know what it does to me," Draco answered, closing his eyes to see the images from his dreams and his memories side by side. He shuddered a little and held his arm tighter to his chest, telling himself to get a grip.

He opened his eyes when Harry was resting a hand on his folded arms, the green eyes looking at him intently. Harry put his other hand up to his forehead and moved the hair aside. "You mean like what this did to me?" The scar was faded but it was still there and obvious enough if you knew to look for it. Everyone in the wizarding world knew, but Harry still never let his hair be too short to cover his forehead.

"Yours only ever hurt, though, right? This never hurts. And, you told me about how you were a Horcrux, and that was why it hurt, the part of the Dark Lord's soul was trying to get out. Now that he's gone, you don't feel it. I still do. I still have the nightmares; I still see everything that happened," Draco protested. He wasn't trying to be difficult, he just knew that his case was different than Harry's.

"I had dreams, too, Draco. You know that. I still do, you know that." Harry said, looking like he was trying to reason with him.

"Yes, I know that. I know that. This," he gestured to the hidden arm, "is different. I didn't get it when I was a baby. I didn't grow up with it. I was well aware of when and how I got it. I remember how it felt, and I remember everything that it brought with it. When it looks like it does now, it brings all of that back with more force than just glancing at it does. When it's like this, I remember everything that I've done." It looked like Harry was going to interrupt but Draco raised his voice a little to get to his point.

"Your scar is a hero's mark. All of your life it's marked how you lived when the Dark Lord tried to kill you. My mark is a traitor's mark. It's the mark of weakness and evil and being persuaded by power; a mark of shame. When people see you, they think well of you. When they look at me, they see a Death Eater, they only look at my arm and remember how my family gave in and served the Dark Lord. I hate being reminded of it whenever I see it."

Harry looked like he was actually thinking of a response to all of that. Draco didn't want to hear it. He was tired of being appeased. Now that he was getting stuff out, he wanted it out. He didn't want it to just be brushed off because of how important it was to him. So, he got off the bed and started pacing around.

For a moment it looked like Harry was going to try to stop him, but he merely watched him and didn't say anything. Draco hoped Harry was thinking about what he'd said.

"Draco," Harry said quietly, instantly making him stop pacing. There was a pause again, but this time Harry closed his mouth and got up instead. He went right over to Draco and put his arms around him, resting his chin on his shoulder. There wasn't room for Draco to return the hug as his arms were by his sides. Harry started backing up though, and took them both back to the bed.

When they were sitting down, Harry pulled away and looked at him, still keeping ahold of one of his hands. "You don't have to be ashamed of the Dark Mark. Like I said, it's who you were. Besides, I know that you didn't want it. I know that you got it to help your parents. I also know that Lucius didn't give you any choice in the matter."

Draco laughed. "It would be nice if everyone else knew that."

"Isn't it enough that I know it?" Harry asked.

"You already like me though, and you aren't the one who glares at me and drops the little hints that I'm never going to not be a Death Eater," Draco responded. This time it didn't even look like Harry was going to try and say something to that. He just shifted closer and put his arms around Draco, pulling them together.

"I can't fix any of that. I really, really wish I could, but I can't," Harry whispered.

Draco knew that. He'd never expected Harry to do that, he'd always known that it was impossible to get them to stop. He wasn't asking for that. "I know," he whispered.

Then, Draco wasn't in Harry's arms anymore and he was looking at him now instead. "What is it that my friends say to you?" he asked quietly. Upon examination, Draco saw that the green eyes were serious. Harry was still holding onto his arms and he looked ready to listen to him without judgment.

Draco paused and took a breath. "The only one who doesn't really do it is Hermione but she doesn't stop her husband from saying things. They just drop hints about how I'm not wanted in the group and that I'm never going to be a part of it. They make comments about the relationship and they wonder, out loud with me in the room, about when you'll move on. It's all stupid and petty, and I don't pay much attention to those insults. They make stabs about my father's imprisonment and about how the only reason my mother and I aren't in Azkaban is because you decided to take pity on me. They stare at my left arm all the time and they've made it clear that I'm always going to be a Death Eater. Whenever I'm around all of your "friends" that's all I am. I'm there, corrupting you and you're dealing with it because I'm some kind of charity that you feel obligated to help." He tried not to sound too bitter, even though that was about all he was feeling. Harry's arms were around him again, pulling him back into his lap.

"You know that our relationship's fine, right?" Harry sounded concerned and even though he refused to look, Draco could picture the expression in the green eyes.

"I like to think so. When they bring it up I try to shake it off. It's hard when you don't do anything about it, though. I know that you hear it, too, since you're often in the room when they're going on about it."

"I am not. They've never said anything like that while I was around." Harry sounded indignant at the mere thought of that happening. Draco just shook his head sadly.

"They have. You're either too biased or too oblivious to notice. Look, I know that you want us all to like each other and get along, but the only one who's buying it is Hermione."

It was silent for a minute until Harry leaned down by his ear and asked, "Is there anything else that they say or do?" If Draco wasn't mistaken—and he knew that he wasn't—Harry sounded sad and angry at the same time. He wished that there was enough room for him to move and get a look at that on Harry's face.

"No, it's just the Death Eater stuff. Basically they isolate me to let me know that they will never accept a Death Eater into their group and that I'm never going to be anything else." He kept his voice even and stared straight ahead in an effort to keep his emotions under control. As always, it worked.

"Draco…" Harry said softly, trying to get him to unfreeze, Draco knew. "Draco I'll talk to them all. I'll tell them to stop making fun of you or talking about your past or even thinking about your past. It's not who you are anymore and I want them to realize that. I'll talk to Ginny again, reestablish the fact that I'm not leaving you any time soon and that she and I aren't getting back together. I know that it's a lot to ask, but, do you think that if I did all of that you could maybe give them all another chance?"

"Well, you're right about one thing. That is a lot to ask for," Draco responded, arms crossed. He was thinking about the suggestion and he really didn't like it. The only person he could even think about communing with was Hermione, maybe the single twin Weasley as he'd seemed to be semi-tolerant of Draco those few times he'd been over.

"Please Draco? You don't have to become their friends, just try to be civil? And you don't even have to talk much or about anything. Just give it a chance, say 'hi' to them or something. That's all I ask," Harry said persuasively near Draco's ear.

It was all he could do not to shiver, but he turned and glared at Harry. "Fine. I'll attempt to be civil. I'll have you know, though, that as soon as they make a rude comment, I'm abandoning all efforts," Draco replied.

Harry smiled a little bit, eyes alight. "I wouldn't expect you to do anything else." He let go of him again and Draco was sitting by him, able to see him much better. The smile had weakened and the light in his eyes was dying down again. He leaned his forehead against Draco's and it was green on gray.

"You do know that our relationship is fine, right? It's wonderful. It's much better than the one I had with Ginny," Harry introduced softly.

Draco allowed himself to think about that for a minute and found that he came to the same conclusion that he had before. "I like to think so." He couldn't bear to say it over a whisper and he also couldn't look at Harry when he said it.

"Why aren't you sure about it?" He said it in that tone of voice that was urging Draco to look up at him, show him what was going on in his head, but Draco couldn't. He'd learned that he really didn't need the mask very much when he was with Harry but it was still right there on hand if he did.

"I don't know, I just don't feel it all the time," he answered quietly, not really sure what he meant. He gathered up the bit of courage that he didn't have before he got to know Harry and looked up. Harry looked hurt but he also looked like he was thinking about what Draco said.

Before he knew what was happening, Harry's hand was on the side of his face and he was right in front of Draco. His eyes were soft and Draco had to wonder what was going on in his mind. He didn't have very much time to wonder, though, because Harry's lips were pressed against his before too long.

Draco stiffened a little before he was able to relax. Once the surprise wore off, though, he melted into the kiss. It was like this every time Harry kissed him. He was usually shocked at first, then he remembered that Harry had confessed loving him and he would kiss back. It didn't really help that Harry mostly kissed him when he wasn't expecting it.

The other thing that normally accompanied Harry Potter's kisses was a warm feeling that pulsed in his stomach. It was comforting and calming and it didn't usually have anything at all to do with desire.

Harry pulled away and offered him a soft smile. "Did you feel it?" He'd told Draco, after Harry kissed him for the first time, that there was some kind of spark that went off between the two of them. Draco nodded, still focused on the warm feeling in his stomach. It was around for a while after a kiss and he loved it. He'd never been able to figure out what it was exactly, but he was sure that it counted because it only ever happened when Harry kissed him.

"That's what it always is, I think," Harry said softly. Draco looked at him, waiting for him to explain more of it. "It just died down so we weren't able to feel it anymore." He leaned forward and chastely kissed Draco again. "I'm not going to let that happen again, I promise." The green eyes were glowing and Draco felt a tentative smile climb onto his face.

"So do I," he responded quietly. Harry's smile brightened a little bit and he kissed him again, for longer this time. If they were back home it might have gone further, but they weren't so it didn't. Draco was still tired, so Harry climbed under the blankets with him and just the feeling of the other wizard beside him made dropping off to sleep easier.

They woke up early and Draco kissed Harry goodbye as he slipped out of the room to go to his own. He sat awake, looking out of the window and thinking as the sky brightened to daytime. The husband and wife woke up and when they were downstairs, Draco got out of bed and got dressed in the now dry, clean clothes that he'd been wearing the previous day. He met Harry in the hallway on the way down and happily observed the smile on the other boy's face. Draco didn't smile much himself, but it was nice to see his own feelings reflected on Harry's face.

"Good mornin'! Sit an' eat a 'fore you go back home!" The Muggle woman motioned for them to sit at the table from her place by the stove. Watching the cooking was still fascinating and Draco could vaguely feel Harry watching him and smiling in amusement.

After breakfast, one that Harry wolfed down again, accepting the food that Draco didn't eat as if it had been on his own plate the whole time, they were going into town with the farmer. Once there, they bid him goodbye and were on their way to find out where they were in comparison to London. Upon close examination of a map, they plotted a route in which to get there and went to an alley where they clasped hands and Apparated back home.

It was still overcast in London, not that it was much of a surprise to anyone. There was a promise of rain and there were still puddles everywhere, but Harry seemed unaware of any of it. He kept a hold of Draco's hand and they made their way back to Grimmauld place.

"Harry! Draco! Where have you been?!" Hermione rushed the door as soon as it opened and threw her arms around Harry's neck. Draco quietly stepped aside, only to be caught by surprise when the bushy-haired witch was hugging him, too. "We've stayed up all night, fearing something happened to you both." Draco was shocked to see actual distress in her eyes and was even more shocked when the look was directed to him.

Harry just smiled it away. "Hermione, we're fine. We just got a little lost, that's all. But everything's fine now." He looked back to smile at Draco and he turned back to his friends. "Ginny, Ron, I have to talk to you for a minute in the kitchen. Hermione, would you go with Draco back to the sitting room?"

The directions were carried out and Draco was following Hermione back to where the Weasely twin was sitting. Hermione turned to look back at him and smiled and the twin—George, he thought it was—looked up, too, also looking relieved. "I'm glad you're back and that you're okay, Draco." The witch said, taking his hand and pulling him into a chair.

Draco looked to see the same sentiment reflected on George's face and he allowed himself a small smile. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.