FEST FIC: Draco, Draco – Let Down Your Golden Hair! (2/2) - Harry/Draco

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Previous part

<<<<<>>>>>

It was only seven in the morning when Harry Apparated to Narcissa’s cottage, intent on getting the key.

Not even three seconds after Harry knocked on the heavily warded door, it swung open, fear the prominent emotion in Narcissa’s eyes. “What happened to him?” she rushed out.

Harry held up his hand. “Wait, please. It’s nothing serious.”

Almost as soon as he stopped speaking, she reached forward to grab his hand, her grip tight. “Please tell me he is alright!?”

He placed his free hand on top of her white-knuckled ones that were wrapped around his other. “Yes,” he nodded. “He’s fine. There was just a small attack last night,” and Harry could feel Narcissa start to sway, so he steadied her. “Your spells held up beautifully. He’s perfectly fine, if not a little tired.”

Harry watched as the woman seemed to let go of the large breath she had been holding. “Oh, thank Merlin.” She took another deep breath, then said, “I thought you had come to tell me that he was hurt, or worse… I don’t know what I would have done…” she trailed off.

Harry shook his head. “Unfortunately, now he cannot stay there. I caught one of the attackers last night, but two more got away. We questioned the man I caught, and he was able to give us a few more names of people we didn’t know about. Either way, they know where Draco is staying.”

Instead of responding to his information, Harry watched as Narcissa reacted in a completely different way. She summoned a small vial to her hand, using a spell to slice open the tip of her finger and let three drops of blood fall into the glass container, replacing the stopper once she was satisfied. “Here, you will need this. Keep this vial on you and the blood magic will let you pass through to the door. You can then use this,” she said as she reached into the top of her high-necked nightgown, grasping a small gold chain and sliding it up out of the silky fabric. On the chain hung a dainty gold key, obviously the one to the tower.

She pulled the large chain over her head, handing the key to Harry. “Once the key is turned in the lock, all of the spells will drop off the tower too, so you won’t need to worry about accidentally getting locked inside.”

Harry took the key and then slipped the chain over his head like Narcissa had worn it. It was a surefire way to make sure he didn’t lose the key, and the metal was still warm from the heat of her body. He placed the small vial into his pocket so that he would not forget it. “Thank you,” he told her. “We should also move you.”

Harry watched her shake her head, but he grabbed her hand and held on tight. “Mrs. Malfoy… Narcissa… Draco would be beside himself if anything happened to you. The man that was here with me yesterday was the one that helped organize it all.” He heard her gasp, but he continued anyway. “None of us had any idea until last night, when we were able to trace the letter you received back to his old Auror partner. He knows where you are staying, and I will not risk your life because you are being stubborn.” Harry finished in a firm tone, and he had a feeling it would be needed.

Narcissa paused, contemplating her answer. Finally, she said, “Alright, I will go with you. But I have no idea where you will put me that these people won’t already know about.”

Harry coughed. “Well, I actually already talked to Kingsley Shacklebolt about that. We decided that safe-houses were out, for both you and Draco, because Ministry employees are involved and they know where they are or how to find out about them. You will actually be staying with Shacklebolt at his home, so he can be right there to protect you, if need be.”

Narcissa took a deep breath, then steadily said, “Okay, I can deal with that because it is only temporary. But where is Draco staying?”

This time the question made Harry blush. He wasn’t quite sure why Kingsley had decided it would be best this way, but he had to admit, it had its advantages. “Draco will… um… be staying with me.”

Harry almost had to laugh as he watched Narcissa Malfoy's jaw drop, or at least as close as it could get to being a jaw-drop from an aristocratic person. The woman seemed stunned by the information, but almost as quickly as she was caught off-guard, she gained back her footing. “I think that is ideal.”

Now, it was Harry's turn to scoff. “You… you really don’t mind?” he asked.

Narcissa shook her head. “No, Mr. Potter, I do not. After all, you have shown yourself quite capable of protecting my son, and myself, and I can’t think of anyone else I would rather have watching after our well-being.”

For some reason, this comment made Harry embarrassed. He knew that he was just doing his job, but she made it sound like he’d leap over burning buildings for them.

And then Harry realized that, yes, he had in fact done that for Draco. It wasn’t a burning building, but the Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement.

And the more that Harry thought about it, the more he realized that many of the things he’d done for Draco Malfoy were of the rescuing sort. The times during the war, the memories he was going to give for Draco's trial, not only protecting his tower, but rescuing him from it. Yes, both boys had had their fair share of fights – well, okay, Harry could admit to himself that there had been a far larger number than most normal boys – but much of their antagonism while growing up had stemmed from familial problems.

That wasn’t to say that they didn’t have their times where they just didn’t agree or get along, but many of their beliefs when younger developed from what Draco's parents taught him, or Harry's elders had taught him, whether it was at Hogwarts or at his aunt and uncle’s home.

Harry knew after the end of the war that it was the end of his stigma, at least concerning the prophecy. Yes, he would always be “The Boy Who Lived,” but at least now he was the boy who had a life of his own instead of one laid out for him. All he could do now was try to be fair and listen to both sides of a situation, even if he didn’t change his mind. There were plenty of things he still hadn’t swayed one way or the other, like house elf rights (because, how do you free a group that ultimately loves to serve?), but the decisions he had made were much more mature and informed.

And maybe that was part of the reason he felt that he should be helping the Malfoys, because getting retribution vigilante-style never helped anyone, and any semblance of peace the Wizarding World wanted would only be undermined if they didn’t handle this as lawfully as possible. Harry understood how much people wanted to act on their own; just thinking about Fred and Dobby and Hedwig and Remus and Tonks…he understood greatly, but he learned that he couldn’t let his anger at their deaths control how he went about bringing justice to the people responsible.

After all, terrorizing and murdering people was wrong no matter who they were or what you thought of them. Really, Deckard and his followers were no better than Voldemort; both felt that they could pick off all the people they didn’t want around in this “imperfect world.” The only thing Deckard and his followers were creating was another legion of Voldemorts, and that thought made Harry shiver.

Then, Harry felt a tight squeeze from Narcissa’s hand that he was holding, and he snapped out of his thoughts. “I should get going. I want to get Draco out of that tower as soon as possible, and we need to get you moved. The best thing to do would be to Side-Along with me so I can take you to Shacklebolt’s house. Do you need anything from here?”

Narcissa shook her head. “No. At least, nothing that the house elves can’t bring to me. Let us be on our way.”

<<<<<>>>>>

As soon as Harry dropped off Narcissa Malfoy at Kingsley’s house, he Apparated to Draco's tower, key already in hand and the vial of blood still in his pocket so he could pass by the blood magic. He didn’t bother announcing his arrival because he figured Draco would see him soon enough once the door was open.

With little fanfare, he slipped the key into the worn lock, feeling it slide smoothly as he turned the key to the side. He heard a faint click and almost immediately his body felt lighter. Harry hadn’t realized how heavy the dampening spell felt against his body until it was removed, and the door swung open easily. Slipping the key and chain back around his neck so that he could give it to Luna later, he entered the dimly-lit space.

He whispered “Lumos” so that his wand could light the way, and he started jogging up the worn stone stairs, anxious to reach the top. A few minutes later, he was winded from the climb and facing another dark wooden door. Harry knocked once and shouted out Malfoy’s name, waiting briefly before opening the door. He didn’t want to catch Draco off-guard.

When he pushed the old, creaky door open, Harry felt a brief moment of panic when he did not see the blond. The other man was not standing by the window, nor was he in the four-poster bed on the far side of the room. In fact, he seemed to be missing altogether.

“Draco!” Harry yelled. “Where the hell are you?” He rushed across the room, quickly checking the darkened room behind the only other door. Draco was not in the small loo, and there was nowhere else to hide. Harry turned back around towards the bed, starting to worry that someone had managed to get Draco, despite Narcissa’s precautions.

He was just getting ready to send his Patronus to Kingsley when he noticed a lumpy pile of blankets on the floor between the bed and the wall furthest from the window. He then remembered what Draco had told him the night before about staying as far away from the window as possible.

It seemed that Draco had decided to stay in his safe spot, where he was currently sleeping. Harry walked quietly over to the pile to see Draco curled up on a tattered carpet beneath the blankets, strands of his blond hair sticking out from the edges where the fabric didn’t quite cover his head. Harry felt almost bad waking him up because he knew that there was no way he could have gotten much sleep the night before, but he also didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary in the tower, especially now that the protective spells were gone from it.

“Draco,” he said quietly as he nudged the body with his foot. “Come on, Draco. You need to get up. I have to get you to a safe location.”

The body lying on the floor moaned and turned over, the blankets sliding down from his covered head. “Leave me alone. I’m tired.”

“Draco,” Harry said louder this time. “Get up! We need to leave.”

“What the hell are you prattling on about?” Draco asked sleepily. Then, as if he had been shocked, the man sat straight up and shouted, “Potter?!”

Harry nodded. “Of course. Get up, sleeping beauty. We need to pack your things and move.”

Draco groaned. “Merlin, I thought it was a dream. You are actually here, aren’t you?”

Now it was Harry who groaned. “Yes, but if you take any longer, I’d be willing to leave you again. Of course, this time you won’t have any spells protecting your so-called fortress.”

It took less than two seconds for Draco Malfoy to stand up, blankets dropping from his body to reveal a disheveled and rather naked man. He didn’t realize at first, until a chilly gust of air came whipping in through the cracks in the window shutters. As soon as the Draco looked down, he blushed and grabbed for one of the discarded blankets. “Sorry, Potter,” he apologized about his state.

It took a moment for Harry to realize what had happened, but he politely turned around as soon as he noticed he was staring. It wasn’t his fault that Malfoy had an attractive body, and since he was caught off guard by the nudity it hadn’t registered that he should turn around to give him privacy.

“Just get dressed,” he told Draco, trying not to think of the pale skin that also reminded him of the fancy dress the blond had been wearing just days before. To speed the process along, he asked, “Which things are yours?” pointing at the scattered items around the room. “I can start packing for you.”

He heard some rustling behind him, figuring that Malfoy was changing into something more acceptable. “All of the books, and the stuff on the end table. You can just put them in the trunks and we can shrink them.”

Harry didn’t waste any time gathering the items, stacking them haphazardly into the trunks near the foot of the bed. He figured Draco could organize them however he pleased later, once he was in a safe place. While he packed, he explained how the vigilantes found Draco. “It was actually that man who was here with me yesterday… I’m very sorry about that, by the way. He wasn’t supposed to Apparate with me, but he grabbed on to my arm as I left. It wasn’t until we scanned your mother’s letter and found out that the man who wrote it was his old partner that I was able to make the connection.”

Harry stacked another large tome on top of an already unsteady pile in the trunk. “His actions were all deliberate, including being assigned to the case when your mother went missing. Unfortunately, the bastard got away last night, but I did stun one of the other men here with him. They should finish questioning him today.”

Harry watched Draco walk up to him out of the corner of his eye, now wearing a jumper and a pair of black slacks. Harry couldn’t hold his tongue as he asked, “So, do you always sleep naked on the floor?”

Draco barked out a short laugh before he explained. “No, just here. Why, did you enjoy it?” Draco countered. Before Harry could answer, he explained, “I have to put my clothes back into the cupboard each night for it to bring me a new set the next day. I tried skipping it one night, but nothing new showed up the next morning and I had to wear day-old pants.”

Harry just nodded absentmindedly as he continued to pack, trying not to picture Draco in his pants. Not that it really worked, especially since he had already seen Draco naked. Trying to distract himself, he said, “As soon as we are done, I am going to take you some place safe.”

“Good,” Draco told him. “Hopefully it won’t be as dreadful as staying here. You didn’t bring my wand, did you?”

“Um, no. Sorry,” Harry told him. “But I’ve got it where we are going.”

In under five minutes, they had all of Draco's belongings packed and ready to go. Harry shrunk the trunks and shoved them into his pockets, waiting for Draco to make one last sweep of the room for anything he may have forgotten. “Ready?” he asked the blond.

Draco said that he was. “Come over here. I’m going to have to Side-Along you,” Harry told him.

Draco walked over to Harry, putting his hand on the brunet’s arm. “Oh, my knight in shining armor. Whisk me away!” he simpered in a sarcastic tone, batting his eyelashes.

Harry held back a small smile as he placed a hand on Draco's hip. “Well, I’m glad you are so optimistic about this.”

Draco shrugged. “Anything is better than here. Well, except maybe your house.”

Harry had to refrain from telling Draco that that was exactly where he was going, instead saying, “Hold on tight, Rapunzel.” He figured he’d let the other man be upset about the destination later.

<<<<<>>>>>

When Harry landed in the living room of his flat, Draco in tow, he quickly pulled his hand away from Draco's hip and wasted no time erecting the wards he’d removed earlier that day so Draco could enter. Then, for good measure, he added a few more, some similar to those he’d seen at Narcissa’s cottage. They weren’t nearly as effective as what the tower had had, but even the best Auror would have a tough time dismantling Harry's wards in less than a couple hours. That was plenty of time to make an escape, or catch the person attempting the dismantling.

By the time Harry was done putting up his own protection, it seemed that Draco had realized exactly where they were. “I’m sorry about that comment earlier,” he apologized. “I didn’t really mean it.”

Harry shrugged. It wasn’t something worth letting himself get upset over. Also, it wasn’t like Harry wasn’t used to scathing comments from Draco, even if they had been mostly absent the last few days.

Harry watched as Draco ran a hand through his hair. “I’m going to be staying with you?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “Kingsley and I both thought it would be safest for you to be nearby. It’s only until the trial, and if something were to happen, I would rather be fighting here than someplace unknown. At least here I have the home advantage.”

“I can agree with that. Where is my mother staying?”

“She’ll be staying at Kingsley’s home. We thought about putting you some place together, but then we figured that would make you both easy targets.”

Draco didn’t comment, but Harry knew that he understood. “She’s fine, by the way.” Switching the subject, he said, “I want you to stay in my room. I’ve already warded off the windows with a similar dampening spell like the one on the tower, so no one will be able to get through them. I am going to add more wards around the bedroom also, and then I’ll sleep on the sofa so I can stop anyone, if they manage to get into my flat.”

Harry motioned for Draco to follow him. He walked down the short hallway to the bedroom, grabbing the two cloth-wrapped wands from his dresser as soon as he entered. He handed them both to Draco, their hands brushing briefly and sending a small shiver down Harry's spine. “The other one is yours, too. I’m sorry I didn’t get it back to you before.”

Wide-eyed, Draco took both wands gingerly into his hands, unwrapping the cloth and running his fingers over the smooth wood. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Harry nodded. “I’ll let you get settled. I have to go to the Ministry today, to take care of some things and let Kingsley know that you’re safe. I shouldn’t be gone long. I’ll put up the spells on the room before I leave, but I’m going to leave myself keyed to these wards, just in case I need to get in for some reason.” He hoped to himself that that wouldn’t have to happen.

“I’ll put your trunks in the corner of the living room, since there isn’t enough room in here. There’s food in the kitchen if you are hungry.” Harry turned to leave, then remembered to say, “And please, Draco, don’t leave the flat. I can’t protect you if you aren’t here.” He paused, then said, “And it would probably be better if you stayed in this room while I’m gone, just for the extra wards.”

Harry was already out the door and shutting it behind himself as he heard Draco say, “Thank you, Potter, for doing this. You didn’t have to let me stay here.”

“It’s fine,” Harry shrugged. “Besides, we both know how screwed up this situation is. It will be over in a few days, so it’s not like it’s the end of the world. I’ll be back in a while.”

<<<<<>>>>>

Even as Harry was walking up the sidewalk to Kingsley’s house, he was still thinking about the fact that Draco Malfoy was currently at home, in his bedroom. It was really starting to irk him that Draco was the only thing on his mind, especially when it was much more important that he focused on keeping Draco safe rather than the fact that he was noticing spans of pale skin, light blond hair (which he really had a thing for), intelligence, and a sense of humor he had somehow missed before in the nearly eight years he’d known him.

As soon as he was done here, and then stopped by the Ministry to see if there was any further information from the man he had captured, he wanted to go shopping to buy new clothing for Draco. The man basically had nothing because the cupboard had provided him clean clothes each day. Of course, this thought only led Harry back down his previous path of thinking about Draco… thinking about Draco in the dress… thinking about Draco naked.

Harry knocked on the door before he could pursue those thoughts any longer. He didn’t even know why he was becoming so obsessed. For a brief moment he thought back to sixth year, though his obsession had been slightly different then, and he couldn’t help but groan as it became obvious to him that history liked to repeat itself.

Kingsley answered the door, stepping to the side so Harry could enter. Moments later, both men were seated in Kingsley’s home office, discussing what had happened. Harry was glad to relay the fact that Draco was currently safe, tucked away at Harry's flat.

“How’s Mrs. Malfoy doing?” Harry asked.

Kingsley said, “Just fine. She actually told me she loves the company, since it had been rather lonely staying by herself the last few months. She also told me she wanted to talk to you the next time you stopped by, so it would be best if you speak with her before you leave.”

Harry nodded. “We’re done here, right? I’m going to stop by the Ministry yet today, but I’d rather spend as little time away from the flat as possible, just for Draco's sake.”

Kingsley stood up and motioned for Harry to follow. “She’s upstairs in the guest suite.”

Soon, Harry was knocking on the polished oak door to the suite, waiting for Narcissa to answer. When she opened the door, he asked, “Kingsley told me you wanted to talk?”

She motioned for him to enter the room. “Please sit down. This will only take a minute.”

Harry crossed the room and sat in the Victorian-styled armchair next to the window. “Is there something on your mind?” he asked. The only thing he could think of that she needed to talk to him about was the safety of Draco, but maybe she just wanted to confirm (and hear it from his mouth) that her son was fine.

“Actually, yes there is,” she sighed, still standing by the door. “Normally, I would never get involved in something like this, mostly because I always hated when my parents meddled in my life growing up.”

Harry was taken off-guard. He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, and it obviously showed on his face.

“Mr. Potter, I firmly believe that my son’s path in life and yours are intricately intertwined. It was obvious after the first day you met. You know what Draco said to me when he came home that day?” Narcissa asked.

And Harry still had no idea what she was on about, so he shook his head.

“He told me that he didn’t understand why a boy his age didn’t seem to like him. After all, he knew he was special. But a small, dark-haired boy wearing glasses in a robe shop had no real interest in him.” Almost for dramatic effect, Narcissa paused. “And then, right when he started his first year at Hogwarts, he realized who that boy was, only to have the boy turn down his friendship when Draco offered it.” Narcissa sighed. “He was very upset then. As if it wasn’t bad enough that a normal boy didn’t want to be his friend, but he couldn’t even befriend Harry Potter. Do you know what that did to him?”

The speech sounded almost like Narcissa Malfoy was reprimanding Harry, and he wasn’t sure what to say. “Um…” was all that he got out before she continued.

“It made him want to do something. Something different, something better. You know… before he started school, he was rather inattentive. Not that Draco wasn’t a smart boy, but nothing held his interest for long.” Harry watched as Narcissa walked to a nearby chair and sat in it. “At least until he met you. Then, he had to make himself better.”

Narcissa clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap. “He actually started to read. He started to study, something he’d not done in all the years of private schooling and tutoring. He tried to do well in classes, and yet somehow he still couldn’t gain your attention.”

Harry felt abashed. He wanted to say something, but he wasn’t sure where to start.

“I take that back,” she retracted. “He had your attention, but not in the way he wanted. Instead of coming home to tell me stories about how Harry Potter wanted to be his friend, he told me stories about how Harry Potter was his enemy.” She shook her head sadly.

“It broke my heart to see that, and it only got worse over the years. I will tell you a secret, Mr. Potter,” Narcissa spoke quietly.

Harry waited for her to continue, now extremely curious as to what she could say.

“One of the reasons I made my Vow with Severus was to save Draco. Not just to save him from the horrors of war, but to save his virtue and his youth. I knew if he corrupted that, he would never fulfill his dream of finally befriending you.”

Harry was shocked. Speechless.

He never realized exactly how much he had meant in the other man’s life, but each passing second showed him the reality of it.

He already knew that much of his life revolved around Draco, whether it be good or bad. It wasn’t until Narcissa pointed out exactly how involved the two had been with each other that Harry realized he didn’t know how he’d survived not talking to, or rather fighting with, Draco for the past five months.

Of course, this didn’t explain why Narcissa was telling Harry all of this right now. “I’m not quite sure what you are getting at,” he told her.

At this, the woman held back a small smile. “Of course not, otherwise you would have already taken steps, considering how often you leap in headfirst.”

“Will you please explain?” Harry asked again.

“Mr. Potter, I will make this simple. What do you feel when you think of my son?”

Well, crap, Harry thought. It was like trick question. If she had asked that five months ago, he would have said a large amount of dislike and the need to hex him, but now, he wasn’t quite so sure. He didn’t want to say anything negative, but all of his recent thoughts of Draco involved either cross-dressing (damn that blue dress), nudity (damn that cupboard), or a combination of both, and those were just plain inappropriate. Instead of responding, Harry hung his head to hide his blush.

Narcissa hummed. “Exactly as I thought.”

Harry's head whipped up to look at her, confusion in his eyes.

Narcissa stared straight at Harry as she spoke. “You know exactly what you feel when you think of my son. And now you know how my son feels about you. The question is: When are you going to act on it?”

Harry felt his heart jump into his throat at her comment, but he didn’t get a chance to respond as she said, “I’m tired now. If you would please leave me and go look after my son instead, I would be quite content.”

Harry was still at a loss for words, so he quietly got up from his chair and left the room.

<<<<<>>>>>

When Harry arrived back at his flat, nearly an hour after leaving Kingsley’s house, he was still confused as hell. He had tried to clear his mind by going to the Ministry to see if there was any new information (and no, there hadn’t been), as well as going clothes shopping for Draco.

He dropped the bags on the couch in the living room, and not seeing the other man there or in the kitchen, he figured he was in the bedroom. He walked back to the closed door and knocked loudly on it.

“Draco? Are you in there?” he asked.

Draco opened up the door to reveal wet hair, a cleanly-shaved face, and his lower body wrapped in a towel. “Good timing,” he said. “I have nothing to wear, but I didn’t want to go through your wardrobe.”

“No need,” Harry told him while politely trying not stare at Draco's toned body. “I stopped by to pick you up some clothes on the way back. They’re in the living room.”

Harry garnered another surprised look from Draco, but he figured it was just from the generosity of the gesture. He left the room, figuring that Draco would follow to get his new clothes, but he had to restrain himself from glancing back over his shoulder at the almost-naked Draco just to check to make sure. As soon as he thought about what Narcissa Malfoy had told him, it was much easier to ignore the other boy—he didn’t even want to think about that situation right now, or what it could possibly mean.

Minutes later, Draco was decent and Harry was knackered. “Have you eaten yet?” he asked his temporary roommate.

Draco shook his head.

“I’ll order some take-away and then I’d like to take a nap. I hardly slept at all last night.”

Draco agreed in short order.

<<<<<>>>>>

It was hours later when Harry finally woke back up, now evening. Since Draco had not left Harry's bedroom, Harry assumed he was still sleeping. This gave him a moment of peace to think about what Narcissa Malfoy had talked to him about earlier.

Momentarily, it gave Harry goosepimples when he thought about the fact that Narcissa thought Draco and Harry belonged together, and not in the “purely friends” way. If anything, Harry and Draco were opposites, so there was no way that they could ever even be just friends.

It didn’t cross Harry's mind to be upset about the fact that Narcissa was saying they could be lovers, or that they were both men; Harry was just upset with the fact that he didn’t feel himself compatible with Draco, in any sense. And when it came down to it, Harry didn’t really feel that it was too odd that he found Draco attractive, rather just the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about him naked.

Then, Harry tried to see it from Narcissa’s point of view. She made it seem like Harry was the only one who Draco was always trying to impress. Harry felt like Draco was always the opposing viewpoint, the one who kept him on his toes and made him stand up for what he believed in.

But then, Harry thought that that was maybe what a partner was supposed to do. If the person never challenged you, what fun was it? It would end up exactly how it had with Ginny – the newness, danger, and fun wore off, just leaving the fact that he was trying to date his best friend’s sister who really looked a bit too much like Ron for Harry to find her attractive – at least a year later. Or maybe that was because Harry subconsciously realized what he wasn’t finding attractive in a partner at all(redheads and brunettes) and refining his tastes (blondes, as it seemed to be now).

Ginny never stood up to Harry either. Despite the fact that they had known each other for years, Ginny was more willing to get into an argument about her beliefs with her brothers than with Harry. And Harry didn’t want to date someone who never stood up for what they believed in, even if it was just to him.

Though Harry had never thought about Draco in these terms, suddenly it all made sense. And it made Harry nervous. It also made him realize why he had been so concerned about Draco's well-being, even after just a single day on the case. That one conversation was all it took for Harry to realize how much he had missed the energy between them.

Harry sat curled up on the couch, desperately wishing that Draco wasn’t actually staying in his flat for the next four and a half days. It had been distracting enough before, but now that Harry had finally started to make some sense out of his feelings, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be any easier.

<<<<< Saturday >>>>>

Surprisingly, the next twenty-four hours went rather smoothly. Draco ended up sleeping through the entire previous evening, plus all night, so Harry didn’t have to worry about talking to him. The next morning at about ten o’clock (Harry slept rather late because he was still quite tired), Harry told Draco that he was going to be heading in to the office, just to see if he could assist the current team who was trying to track down the group of attackers .

He ended up spending the next four hours researching each of the remaining attackers in the archives, pulling together information for the teams that were going to arrest the individuals. The previous night, one team brought in three of the seven, but only one of those was a Ministry employee, which still left Deckard, Osbrow, the final employee, and one other individual. The ones who were caught had not been contacted by Deckard or Osbrow, so Harry and the rest of the Aurors on the case assumed that the other two had been warned and were able to hide themselves.

Harry also sat in on about thirty minutes of questioning for the newly captured attackers, but he was too impatient to get home to worry about what information was being gleaned. He knew he had to leave it up to the other Aurors, especially since he was supposed to be protecting Malfoy, and he had already spent much longer in the archives than he had originally planned. He dropped off his research at Kingsley’s office so that the man could distribute it as he saw fit, and then he left for home.

Draco was sitting at Harry's small kitchen table, reading a book, when Harry Apparated into his flat. The blond was wearing the snug-fitting pair of blue jeans and a grey, long-sleeved, cotton shirt that Harry had bought him the day before, and Harry tried not to stare because of how good he looked. Harry had been mainly concerned with clothes that would fit Draco, but somehow he had ended up buying form-flattering pants and colored shirts that complimented Draco's skin tone and eyes. That was obviously an accident.

Draco nodded at Harry by way of greeting. “Did you make any progress today?” he asked.

Harry shrugged. “A bit. Nothing new, information-wise, but the Aurors arrested three of the seven members last night.”

“Good,” Draco said, his voice full of conviction. “Did they get the guy that followed you—the leader?”

Harry shook his head. “No, but they are trying to track him down. They are watching everything right now, including Muggle transportation, so there are very few places he can hide unless he just drops off the map entirely.”

Draco hummed. “I’m glad. I know this won’t be over until after the trial, but I’d sleep better knowing he was in custody.”

Harry laughed a little. “Yeah, me too.” There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. “What would you like to eat tonight?”

Draco closed the book and looked at Harry. “At this point, anything sounds good. After eating food summoned by a cabinet for the last three months, you could make me kippers and I’d be happy.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound too appealing to me, but I do know a good recipe for an easy chicken and pasta dish.”

“That’s fine with me.”

Harry told Draco that he was going to take a nap for a couple hours because he was still tired from the last few days, then he would run to the store to get the ingredients. Half an hour after his nap, he was back from the store, boiling water on the stove and slicing the chicken into thin pieces for frying. Just as Harry was adding the sauce to the pan of drained, cooked noodles, Draco walked back into the kitchen and sat at the table.

“Do you need any help?” he asked.

“No,” Harry said. “I’m almost done. It just has to finish warming.”

“It smells good. What did you make?”

As Harry washed the cutting board in the sink, he said, “Just chicken alfredo, basically. I always add in mushrooms and tomatoes, too.”

When Harry was done washing the few dishes, he scooped out two bowls of the pasta mixture, setting one in front of Draco at the table and one in front of his own place setting. He then grabbed two bottles of butterbeer from the fridge to drink with dinner.

After two bites and a sip of the butterbeer, Draco said, “This just hits the spot.” He took another swig of the drink and continued to eat.

Harry was happy to hear his meal complimented, but he didn’t say anything back. He was too busy thinking about everything that he had started to come to terms with in the past twenty-four hours. He also couldn’t help thinking that even though it had been less than half a year since they had graduated school, it seemed like it had been so much longer and that they were both much more mature than their years let on.

Then, Harry figured that that was probably partially due to the war. Unfortunately, conflicts like that tended to rob people of their youth, whether they realized it or not. Harry tried not to smile as he realized how much like Hermione he sounded in the comment, and he thought that maybe attempting to read all the books she was buying him was finally paying off.

Harry and Draco finished their meal in silence, but that was okay. Harry didn’t quite trust himself to say something that wouldn’t involve blurting out his feelings, or worse yet, what Draco's mother had told him, and if he could, he’d rather avoid that whole situation altogether. Harry didn’t even know what he wanted to do concerning that.

He could admit to himself that he was attracted to Draco Malfoy, and probably had been for who knows how long, but that did not mean he had any desire to have a relationship with him, and he wasn’t sure that would ever change.

When dinner was over, Draco excused himself from the table and went back to Harry's room. It was then that Harry realized he might have made dinner a more awkward affair than it needed to be. Draco had basically been without any human contact for the past three months, and then Harry rescues him and puts him up in his home, but can’t even be bothered to talk to him.

Moving the dirty bowls to the sink, he decided to clean them later and instead go apologize to Draco. He walked down the hall and knocked on his bedroom door, an odd occurrence since it was his own door.

Draco pulled open the door, watching curiously as Harry entered his own bedroom. “Um… Draco…” he started. “Look, I’m sorry about dinner. I wasn’t trying to ignore you.”

Draco continued to look at Harry before saying, “That’s fine. I know you’ve had a lot on your mind. I figured it would be best to give you some time alone.”

Harry nodded, but he realized that he didn’t want to agree with that. It wasn’t fair to Draco to have to put up with more isolation just because Harry's mind was screwed up. “Yes, I’ve had a lot on my mind, but that’s no excuse. I should have at least talked to you,” he told Draco.

Again, Draco brushed it off. “Like I said, it’s no big deal.”

Now, Harry was starting to get frustrated. Draco had every right to be upset, and he was just being accommodating instead. He didn’t know why he was letting it get to him, and Harry wasn’t thinking about what he was saying when he said, “Yes, it is. It’s not your fault that I can’t concentrate when you’re around.” Almost immediately, Harry realized the secret he had let slip and slapped his hand over his mouth, a blush quickly covering up his cheeks.

He tried not to look at Draco, but he couldn’t help peeking at the stunned blond across from him. “Harry,” Draco started, but Harry held up his hand for him to stop speaking.

“Draco, just igno…” but he was interrupted by a loud crash on the other side of the door.

Harry went into a defensive stance almost as soon as he heard the noise, pulling his wand from his pocket and pointing it at the closed bedroom door to make sure the wards were secure. “Draco,” he whispered. “No one I know was supposed to be visiting tonight. Please grab your wand and get to the back corner of the room.”

Harry didn’t wait for Draco to move before he started checking the wards and spells on the window to the bedroom, knowing that Draco would obey his orders. “You know how to do a Patronus charm, right?” he asked.

He heard Draco say “yes” behind him. Still studying the window, he said, “I need you to send one to Kingsley, to let him know there are unauthorized visitors in the flat. He can send backup who will be able to intercept them from the outside.”

He turned around to face Draco as he was nodding. “I need to get into the other room.”

“Wait, what? No, Potter. You can’t do that!” Draco warned. “It’s too dangerous.”

“But it’s more dangerous for us both to be caught in here, unaware. At least if I go out there, I can take someone out, or you can hear what is going on.” Harry knew that part of it was faulty logic, but after his half-admission of his feelings to Draco, Harry feared to stay in the same room.

“Potter,” Draco whispered. “Harry, please stay. It won’t take Shacklebolt long to get here.”

Harry just shook his head. “I’m sorry, I need to do this. Just send your Patronus and keep yourself guarded.”

Harry threw up an extra set of wards around the bedroom, noxed the lights, then opened the door quietly and walked into the darkened hall, closing the door softly behind him.

When Harry had walked into the bedroom earlier, he had left lights burning in the kitchen and living room, but now everything was dark. Since his shades were drawn, no dusk-light could be seen, and Harry knew immediately that it was a trap. Part of him wished he’d stayed in the bedroom with Draco, but it had become stifling after his slip-up.

Harry wanted to be able to see his surroundings, but since he couldn’t Lumos his wand, he figured he had the next best advantage by living in the flat and knowing where everything was. He silently cast a shielding spell around his body – something he didn’t do often because it took so much energy but he felt was needed at this moment – and slowly crept forward, towards the end of the hallway.

When he passed the door to the loo on his left and reached the edge of the wall to his right, he hugged it and turned the corner, making his way into the kitchen. It was the least restricted area, and it would be the easiest place for him to stage his fight. He had no idea how many people were in his flat; there could be just one or there could be the remaining four in Deckard’s group, including Deckard himself.

Harry didn’t want to take any chances, but he wasn’t sure how he could find out. He almost had to wait until Kingsley showed up with reinforcements, or someone attacked. He stood very still, crouched between his kitchen table and countertop, waiting for his eyes to slowly adjust to the darkness so that he could see shadowy shapes instead of all blackness.

He was still trying to figure what to do when he saw a brief flash of light to his left, near the entrance of the hallway. It looked like someone was trying a ward detection spell, and the spell they used gave off a faint glow.

Harry was tempted to cast a stunner in the direction of where the light had just flashed, but the person could be moving forward already and then it would just give away his own position without hitting anything. It also didn’t tell Harry how many people were in his flat.

Harry crept around the far side of the kitchen, towards the front door, so he would have been able to see down the hallway, should the lights have been on. He wanted to be able to protect the door in case anyone else came in or tried to get out, but he also wanted to be able to see the entirety of the room in case he was fighting.

He tried to wait patiently, hoping that Draco's Patronus had gotten through to Kingsley. Harry would have sent his own, but it would be completely visible when it came back to him, and that would have given away Harry's position also.

Harry thought that five minutes must have passed at this point. He had no idea how someone had gotten into his flat, but then he realized that he hadn’t been paying much attention when he came back from the store, too preoccupied with thoughts of Draco.

In a stupid act of distraction, Harry had forgotten to put up the wards around his flat.

He wanted to hit his head against the wall, but he didn’t want to make any noise either. He couldn’t believe that he had been entrusted to protect Draco Malfoy and that he had forgotten to put up his wards.

Finally, Harry couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to figure out some way to reveal who was in his flat. He didn’t want to shoot off a spell to light the area, because one would easily see where it originated from. He decided that maybe the best way to distract someone was the Muggle way: throw something.

Harry reached for the nearest thing he could find, which happened to be an umbrella propped up against the wall next to the door of his flat. It seemed so cliché, just like in Muggle movies, but then he figured that most witches and wizards had never seen a film unless they were raised by or married into a Muggle-based family.

He took a few more seconds to listen for any clue that the person or people in his flat were moving around, and when he didn’t hear anything he took his chance. Flinging the umbrella as hard as he could, he hoped it made it over the sofa and into the middle of the living room area.

As soon as he heard it hit what had to be the long coffee table sitting in front of his couch, knocking something off of it which was probably the ceramic cup he had left sitting there, he saw three flashes of light, all different colors, fly in that direction.

Harry stood quickly from his crouched position, using the brief light from the spells to spot where the three figures were standing. He quickly tossed a Stunner towards the nearest one, feeling satisfaction as he heard a thump on the ground.

He crouched again, not wanting to make his body any more of a target than before. He knew that he had successfully taken one person out, and that there were still at least two more people in his flat. Leaving his post by the door, he crept back towards the kitchen.

He wasn’t sure if his previous trick would work two times in a row, but he wanted to try. Unfortunately, he had nothing else to left to throw near the door, but he did have two bowls still sitting in the sink.

When he felt the proper cabinet beneath his fingertips, he reached up over the edge and into the metal depression. He grabbed the first ceramic bowl his hand came in contact with, carefully lifting it up and away from the sink so that it wouldn’t make any clinking sounds. His wand ready in his other hand, he tossed the bowl towards the spot he had just vacated, and he had to stop his wince as it shattered against the front door.

This time, only one light flew at the distraction, but Harry was ready and it was enough for Harry to send another stunner at the person who cast the spell. After another thud that signified a body hitting the floor, Harry was ready to go forward.

He knew his trick wouldn’t work a third time, but at this point Harry had so much adrenaline pumping through his system, he was ready to Lumos his wand to find out who was still here.

Taking a deep breath, he lit up his wand. His eyes took only a second to adjust to the light, but he did not see a single other person. He knew he couldn’t creep around the corner to the hall because his wand-light would give him away, he did the next best thing to keep surprise on his side.

He rushed towards the hallway instead.

As soon as he passed the opening, he saw a man standing at the end of it in front of the door to Harry's bedroom.

Harry couldn’t help the shout that escaped his mouth, causing the man to turn around. When Harry realized that the man was Deckard, his blood boiled. Before he could get off a Stunner, he had to duck the incoming curse that sailed his way.

Hitting the ground, he rolled and tried to aim his body behind the edge of the hallway wall. Unfortunately, he hit it on the way, making a large bang as his shoulder collided with the plaster. Clutching the injured area that would surely turn into a bruise, he stayed in his temporary safe spot.

Just as he was getting ready to go back into the hall, he heard a door creak open.

His bedroom door. Shit.

Harry rolled back into the hallway. A quick glimpse of blond hair had him yelling, “Malfoy! Shut the door!” but it was too late.


Harry watched as a bright yellow curse issued from Deckard’s wand towards Draco. He didn’t dodge quickly enough and it sliced through the upper arm of the grey shirt Draco was still wearing. As Harry watched the blood well up from the gash, he wasted no time flinging a Stunning spell, one much stronger than needed, at Deckard.

The spell hit the man with such force that he was flung against the wall before crumpling to the floor. Harry rushed down the hallway to Draco, practically shouting, “Are you okay?”

Draco just nodded, staring at the man on the floor at his feet. “That was him, wasn’t it?” He didn’t even seem to notice that his arm was bleeding, but Harry did.

“Come on Draco, I need to look at your arm.” Harry pulled Draco past Deckard to the loo, sitting him on the closed toilet lid. “Take off your shirt. I’m going to go bind those guys until Kingsley arrives.”

It took Harry less than two minutes to move and bind each attacker that he had stunned, two of them Deckard and Osbrow, and one a woman he didn’t recognize. Just as he was wondering again where the hell Kingsley was, his front door burst open and his boss, along with four other Aurors, rushed into his flat.

Harry restrained a sigh as he saw Kingsley take in the scene in front of him. “A bit late, aren’t you?” he said sarcastically.

“I’m very sorry about that, Harry,” Kingsley apologized. “I called up a few of my best Aurors, only to realize that they were out tonight for a birthday party and all rather intoxicated. It was either run to the Ministry to find a potion to sober them up, or call in someone else.”

As much as Harry wanted to be upset, the situation was a bit unexpected, and he had more pressing issues. “Malfoy was hexed during our fight, but it just looks like it was a slicing spell. It’s still bleeding and I want it looked at, but I don’t want to go to St. Mungo’s. I only caught three of the four here tonight, and I don’t want him any more exposed than he needs to be.”

“That’s a good idea, except the team on duty tonight did manage to catch one of the other team members. I believe that makes it all seven of them that Welling told us about.”

“Still, I’d rather he didn’t leave my flat. At least until after the trial.” Harry was firm in his wishes, and after getting attacked in his own home, he had no doubt that there were still people out there who wouldn’t hesitate to lift a hand against someone like Draco Malfoy.

Kingsley finally agreed. “We’ll call in a mediwizard from St. Mungo’s. It shouldn’t take too long to get him checked out. And it’s probably better that the press doesn’t get wind of this yet either.”

Harry left Kingsley and the rest of his fellow Aurors in his living room to take care of Deckard and his accomplices. Moments later, he was back in the bathroom, looking at a topless Draco.

He watched as the blond struggled to hold a piece of tissue on his bleeding arm while trying to tear more toilet paper off the roll to change it out. “I’ll get that,” Harry told him, walking forward to grab the roll from Draco's lap. He tore off a few sheets, handing them to Draco so that he could take the bloody tissue from his arm and replace it with the clean one.

When he switched out the swabs, Harry noticed that the cut wasn’t very deep. “That probably won’t even leave a scar,” he told Draco.

“Hmmph,” Draco sounded. “I don’t mind that so much as I do the fact that it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet.”

“Don’t worry,” Harry told him. “A mediwizard is on the way.” Just as Harry finished speaking, he heard heavy footsteps coming down his hallway. A large, burly man stepped into the bathroom wearing the bright blue robes of St. Mungo’s.

“Is he the one?” the man asked and Harry nodded. He stepped out of the way so that the mediwizard could examine the slice on Draco's upper arm. Five minutes later, Draco had drunk three potions and had a proper bandage spelled to his arm.

“It will start to heal up rather quickly,” the man told Harry. “Just change the dressings twice a day and put this salve on it when you do,” he said as he handed Harry a small green pot full of a brown-colored goop. “I’d like to see him again in a week, so keep using the salve until then.”

Harry told Draco he would be right back, and he followed the mediwizard out of the loo back to the living room. When the dark-haired man looked around, he noticed all the stunned attackers were gone and only Kingsley and one other Auror remained. “Wow, that was quick,” he told them.

“Yes, it didn’t take much because you did all the work.” Harry knew he would probably get a lecture from Kingsley on waiting for backup in the future, but it wasn’t completely his fault this time around either. “Harry, I’m going to set an alarm on your flat until the trial. Any time someone leaves or enters, even if it is just you walking out your front door, it will alert me.

“If you absolutely need to go somewhere, let me know beforehand so I don’t send someone over to investigate. I’ll take the spell off after the trial, but for now I want to make sure that something like tonight doesn’t happen again. I want to know exactly how they found out where Malfoy was.”

“So do I,” Harry mumbled. “Well, besides grocery shopping, I don’t really feel like leaving anyway.”

“Good,” Kingsley nodded. “For any new information we find out, I’ll either owl to you or Floo-call. I’m sure you have plenty of things that will keep you busy otherwise.”

Though Kingsley didn’t reference anything in particular, Harry felt that he knew exactly what he was talking about. “Are we done here?” he asked.

“Yes. We might have to come back tomorrow to collect evidence, but for now, get some rest.”

After Kingsley finally left, Harry walked back to the loo. The door was open and the light off, so he knew Draco must have gone back to his bedroom.

His bedroom door was cracked, a sliver of light shining out from the space. He knocked briefly and pushed it open to see Draco sitting on his bed, now in a pair of dark cotton sleeping pants but still topless.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked.

It took Draco a moment to answer, but finally he looked at Harry and said, “As well as can be expected.” Then, surprisingly, he let out a short laugh. “How many times have you rescued me in the past week?” he asked Harry.

Startled, Harry didn’t answer right away. “Um… two I think?”

Draco laughed again. “I think it has been more than that. After all, you rescued me from my boredom, from my tower, from Deckard twice, and you rescued my mother for me.”

Harry just shrugged. “It was my job to protect you both.”

At this comment, Draco turned his head away from Harry. With a slight tremor in his voice, he asked, “So it was only a job to you, protecting us? The Death Eater sympathizers.” The last part was said with a bit of a sneer in his voice.

“What? No!” Harry responded. “It wasn’t like that at all. It was my job to protect you, but that doesn’t mean that I wanted to see you hurt otherwise.”

Harry paused, waiting for Draco to say something back, but he didn’t. “And I don’t think you are a sympathizer.”

At this, Draco scoffed. “How can you not? You saw exactly what I did during the war; just as well as you saw what my mother did.”

“Yes, I saw, but that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t have done the same for my family. Besides, I saw quite a few more things that you realize,” Harry said as he thought about the night on the Astronomy Tower when Draco lowered his wand to Dumbledore, “and I can’t begrudge someone for feeling they had no choice.”

Draco still wouldn’t look at Harry, so finally Harry walked across the room, standing next to Draco's sitting figure. “If I had really disliked you that much Malfoy, there would be no way that Kingsley would have allowed you to stay in my home, despite the fact that I am an Auror. You know me; I’ve been prone to fits of temper before.”

At this, Draco finally responded with a rough laugh. “Yes, I guess I can see that. Can’t be removing the endangered from one situation and putting them back into another.” Draco finally turned to look back at Harry, an odd expression in his eyes. “I wish you would sleep in your own bed tonight,” he said quietly.

The conversation shift was quite sudden, and for a moment Harry was disoriented and his mind latched onto the first thought that popped into his head—the inappropriate, imaginative one. Then he realized that he was thinking wrongly and commented on what he thought Draco meant instead. “I can’t do that, Draco. It is still safer for me to sleep on the couch than you, in case something else happens.”

Draco took a deep breath, and Harry watched as Draco's Adam’s apple bobbed gently on his slender neck. As a light blush started to spread over his pale cheeks, he said, “I didn’t mean for you to sleep in here alone.”

Obviously, Harry had not been as wrong as he thought. This comment made Harry's heart jump into his throat and remain there, making it extremely hard to breathe. He had almost forgotten about his slip-up earlier, when he told Draco that he kept distracting Harry, but now Draco was the one bringing it up, and in a completely different way. He didn’t know what to say, much less what to do.

Harry honestly had no idea what he wanted, so he didn’t say anything at all.

Finally, after a minute of silence, Draco asked, “What are you thinking?”

Harry was still frozen in place. “I’m not sure,” he answered.

“About what?” Draco asked. It was like the slight apprehension Harry thought he saw in the blond earlier— when he had first asked the question— was gone, and now he wanted to know exactly what was going on.

Frustrated, Harry shouted, “Everything! What do you want me to say? I don’t even know what I want!”

Draco stifled a quick laugh. “Well, I would rather have you say that than something just because I want to hear it.”

Harry started to panic. Maybe if he talked about it—something he hadn’t done yet—the issue would resolve itself, so he rushed forward to spill his thoughts before he lost his nerve. “First, I didn’t want to meet with you at all,” he started. “Then, once I met with you, I didn’t want to see you again.”

“Somehow, by the time that next day came around, that had actually changed. I really wanted to see you again, and it only got worse. To top it off, you were wearing that ridiculous dress, which I couldn’t seem to get out of my head.” At this admission, Harry was pretty sure he was blushing. “All of a sudden, you were all I was thinking about. And then I had to see you naked!”

Harry rubbed his hands over his eyes, giving himself a moment to compose himself. “Then, yesterday, your mother decided to sit me down and tell me…and say… Well, she talked about you. And I really started thinking about what was going on, and I just wasn’t sure what to do, and then this crap happens tonight, and even Kingsley is looking at me like he expects me to do…like he expects us to…”

Harry glanced briefly at Draco, who seemed a bit surprised at the information. Instead of acting confused though, it was obvious that Draco knew Harry was aware of Draco's feelings because of his mother. “Somehow I take it that you are feeling a bit forced into this?” Draco questioned.

Harry groaned and shook his head. “I don’t know.” He sat down on the edge of his bed next to Draco and dropped his face into his propped-up hands. He tried to ignore how warm Draco's body felt next to his; that knowledge wasn’t making this situation any easier.

Harry heard Draco take a deep breath, then say, “You know you don’t have to do anything. It was just a suggestion, if you wanted to.”

To Harry, it was almost worse that Draco was being so nice about the entire thing. What happened to the man who always wanted the last word, and was willing to push the other into action? A tad bit angry, Harry spat out, “Is that all you have to say? You want me to sleep with you, but now it’s no big deal? I find that surprising, since the first seven years we knew each other, you never once shut up and let me win.”

He could feel the other man flinch at his words, and he immediately felt that he might have been too harsh. It was a surprise to him when he saw Draco's reaction.

“Alright, fine!” Draco spat back. “Potter, you are too much of a bloody coward to sleep in this bed with me. If that’s really the case, then I don’t want to share it with you anyway.”

At those simple words, Harry unconsciously removed his face from his hands and clenched his fists in his lap. He turned towards Draco, surprised to see an angry sneer on the blonde’s face. “That’s all you have to say to me? Why not tell me how you really feel?” Harry taunted.

Huffing slightly, Draco shouted, “And why is it you always have to rescue me? Didn’t you ever get over that hero complex? I don’t need a fuckin’ knight in shining armor every time something goes wrong. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself, but you obviously don’t think so. You just think the world revolves around you.” Then, he added on, “You can’t even wait for backup.” These words were much quieter than the previous phrases, but just as sharp.

The comments only pissed Harry off more. Especially the one about being a knight. When Harry finally got Draco out of the tower, Draco had made a comment then too, but it had been only sarcastic, rather than downright rude. Then to add on the part about waiting for backup. Harry would have waited, and would have preferred to, if he hadn’t been so damn worried about Draco getting hurt, or even killed.

The more he thought about it, the more Harry's anger surged and he couldn’t contain himself as he yelled, “You think I did it because I wanted to be a hero?! Because I wanted to get all the credit— to do it alone?! Are you a bloody idiot? Who the hell wants that? I spent my entire life forced to accept that role, and I sure as hell don’t want it now.”

Now, Harry was on a roll. “And I would think that the person who was stuck in a damn tower for three months would be a little more grateful that he was rescued. Not to mention that I put my life on the line for you, more than once over the years, to make sure you were okay. If I hadn’t been so damn worried about your safety tonight, I wouldn’t have ever made a move; I would have let Deckard destroy the wards on the door and get to you instead, just so I could wait for backup.” Harry hadn’t breathed once through his diatribe, and he felt a little lightheaded. “You’re a bloody idiot if you think I was going to stand by and watch you get hurt.”

At this last phrase, the anger on Draco's face vanished, but Harry wasn’t sure why so it startled him. “Harry,” Draco said softly.

Harry looked warily at the other man, unsure of what was going on. He suddenly didn’t feel so angry anymore, and when Draco's hand touched his shoulder, gently rotating his body to the side so he better faced Draco, his heart started to thud loudly in his chest. “What are you doing?” Harry asked nervously.

Draco calmly asked, “Harry, what was the last thing you just said to me?”

Harry had to think, but then he softly repeated, “I didn’t want to watch you get hurt.”

Draco nodded his head. “Exactly. So don’t you think that says something about how you feel, even if you don’t realize it?”

Harry wasn’t quite sure where Draco was going with this, so he asked him.

“Harry, you’ve never let me get hurt, at least not when you could prevent it.”

Almost as soon as Draco finished speaking, Harry had only a split second to realize that it was completely true before Draco leaned forward to brush a firm kiss against Harry's lips.

Harry was stunned. Eyes still open, he watched Draco pull away, another blush staining the blonde’s cheeks. The confidence that the other man seemed to be feeling up to this point appeared to be gone again, but Harry knew that the response was in his hands now anyway.

Instead of running away, like his fear and refusal to deal with the situation wanted him to, he decided to just go with it. Finally unclenching his fists, he reached out to take Draco's face between his hands, and this time he was the one to lean forward, his action erasing all of his earlier irritation and confusion.

<<<<< Sunday >>>>>

When Harry woke up the next morning, his brain felt like it was full of cotton. Disoriented, he realized that he was sleeping in his own bed, though he hadn’t the night before last. When he rolled over, it was then that he noticed a naked man sleeping in the bed next to him.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry's muddled thoughts cleared almost immediately, and then he had to fight back a surge of embarrassment. Harry wasn’t even sure what had possessed him to just let go, but once he had started kissing Draco, that had been the end of all rational thought.

He watched as Draco slept on his stomach, his ribs slowly expanding and contracting with each breath. Harry's bed sheet came up halfway on Draco's pale-skinned back, and Harry couldn’t resist moving his hand to grasp the edge of the cotton and pull it down so that it rested just above Draco's waist.

As Harry looked at the pale skin, he noticed a set of red, moon-shaped indentations on Draco's hip, spaced just far enough apart to have been made by his firmly-gripping fingernails. Harry was almost sure there was a matching set on the opposite hip, and it made his blush deepen even further.

His eyes scanned downwards, now viewing the sheet-covered arse, and Harry decided to just pull the fabric off the rest of the way. As soon as Draco's bare bum was revealed, Harry had to hold back a moan.

Almost immediately, Harry's mind was transported back to the previous night. He remembered a position not so dissimilar from this one, except Draco had been on his knees. Harry could practically feel Draco's cock again, heavy in his hand, as he listened to the breathy moans from the blond in between him telling Harry to fuck him harder, to fuck him faster. Harry could still hear his balls slapping against Draco's as he slammed into him, and the closer they both came to climaxing, the more muffled Draco's commands became as he buried his face in Harry's pillow so he could thrust his arse higher into the air.

Somehow, last night had been incredible, even though Harry hadn’t had the slightest idea of what he was doing. He’d only slept with Ginny once, and it hadn’t been all that great—too squishy in his opinion.

He’d initially been embarrassed when he asked Draco how to do something—anything—but instead of laughter, Draco had guided him through the steps. And when Draco finally came, the pillow couldn’t even obstruct the sound of Harry's name being shouted, and Harry knew that this entire experience was worth more than he had ever imagined.

Harry realized that his finger was slowly stroking the tender skin of Draco's arse, so he pulled away. He was surprised to hear Draco mumble, “Don’t stop. It feels nice.”

Despite feeling awkward that he had been caught, Harry replaced his finger and continued tracing his earlier patterns. A few minutes later, Draco rolled onto his side, back facing Harry, and scooted backwards.

When Harry felt Draco's skin touch his own, his cock decided it was even more interested in the situation than it had been minutes before. He felt Draco wiggle his body into a comfortable position, which ended up with Harry's cock nestled between Draco's cheeks.

Feeling bold, Harry wrapped his free arm over Draco's body, pulling him even closer. “Now what?” he asked, still a bit unsure about how this situation was supposed to work out.

“Now, we relax,” Draco told him. Wiggling his hips slightly, which did nothing to help Harry's situation, he said, “I’m very sorry about what I said last night.”

“What?” Harry asked in confusion. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“The whole ‘rescuing’ thing, and the stuff about having a hero complex.”

“Oh.” Harry had completely forgotten about those things.

“I didn’t really mean it. I just wanted to get a rise out of you. I hoped that it would provoke you to do something,” Draco finished softly.

Harry had to hand it to him, it had worked. He laughed lightly. “Well, you were right that it would provoke me.” With that, he thrust his hips forward, relishing the moan that issued from Draco's mouth at the action. “Want to relax some more?” he asked.

He could feel Draco shake his head. “No, there is plenty of time for that later.”



<<<<< Epilogue >>>>>


Harry was trying to patiently wait for Draco outside of the courtroom, but each minute that passed only made him more anxious to congratulate his… boyfriend? He wasn’t quite sure yet what to call Draco, but he was feeling a level of happiness that he hadn’t even realized possible before that first night with Draco.

Granted, it hadn’t even been a week, but Harry was feeling optimistic about the entire situation. After all, Harry and Draco had basically been courting each other for going on eight years, so one would hope that they would have a relationship lasting longer than a month or two.

Harry had also found out while Draco was still in his trial that the woman Harry had captured at his flat had actually followed him home the day he was attacked, rather than there being another leak in the Auror Department. As soon as the trials for all the Death Eaters or anyone associated with them (that had charges brought on them) were over the next week, Deckard and his followers would be tried. According to Kingsley, the sentences would probably be rather harsh, even though no humans had died during the attacks. It was one thing for people to act out on their own, but it was completely different when it was a Ministry employee, charged with protecting others, acting out.

Kingsley Shacklebolt was determined to make an example of these men and women.

As soon as Draco walked out of the doorway, immaculately dressed in a steel-grey robe, Harry had to restrain himself from pouncing on him. “Congratulations!” he said, placing his hand on Draco's shoulder.

Draco's smile lit up the room, at least for Harry. “I didn’t believe it was possible,” he told him.

“And I told you that you just needed to quit worrying, didn’t I?” Harry countered. Between Draco's testimony and Harry's bottled memories which spanned the last couple years, Draco had walked away with nothing more than a small amount of community service. Even his mother, who had been far more involved in Voldemort’s circle, had been sentenced fairly lightly earlier that day—one hundred hours of community service and the donation of all (strictly) Dark Arts artifacts and books at Malfoy Manor to the appropriate departments at the Ministry so that the information could be studied.

“Are you ready to go?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded, then reaching for Harry's hand, he slid his pale fingers in between Harry's. “You know, you really are my knight in shining armor.” Draco leaned forward, pressing a quick peck to Harry's lips.

Harry smiled, then laughed before saying, “And I think you should let your hair grow out, Rapunzel.”

THE END

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