Another Kind of Love

"What happened?" Ron asked, breathless from his run from the house when he saw what he thought was Draco lunging at Harry.

"He passed out." So close to Draco, he could see the bite marks and cuts and scrapes he'd been trying to hide. "Um..." he slipped his arm under Draco and then threw him over his shoulder.

"What the fuck happened to him?" Ron looked Draco over and decided to run ahead to open the door.

"Dunno. We'll leave him for your mum to fuss over for now. We have a train station to get to."

--

Everything was hazy, but there was a redheaded figure that was just starting to resolve in his vision.

"Draco! Oh my God, Draco! You're back! I have missed you so much! I never got the chance to thank you or to tell you how much I love you!"

Ginny Weasley? Somehow 'I love you' only sounded marginally better coming from her.

I'm not dealing with this.

Everything went black again.

--

"..I can't say I'm excited about the prospect, but your actions have proven you to be more of a gentleman and a hero than Malfoys in the past, so if you and Ginny truly love one another..." Weasley's fat mum's voice rang out into the room, dulled by too many objects to give any resonance beyond her nasally disparaging tone.

What the shit? I don't think so.

Draco sunk back into sleep.

--

"...but you did save my sister and so I suppose that I can forgive the things you said about Hermione and my mum and me..."

King Weasel? My God, don't you people ever shut up?

--

"...I'm pretty sure you didn't do it for the greater good. There must be some reason for your actions. You've never been a good person and your home was filled with house-elves..."

You always were the smart one. Now shut it.

--

There were no voices this time Draco started to ascend to consciousness. He fluttered his eyes open recklessly to find Harry Potter sitting next to his bed staring at him.

Shit.

He closed his eyes again.

"Wait, Draco, don't. I need to talk to you." Potter shook his arm, disrupting the chance he had at drifting off. "I have some questions to ask you."

The shaking didn't cease, so he glared at Potter with as much venom as he could muster. "I have a question for you." His throat was dry and he rubbed at it. Potter pushed a straw to his lips and Draco sipped.

Sipping and glaring didn't work very well together; Draco was quite annoyed with this.

"Do you know where you are?" Potter asked as he set the glass of tepid water down.

Crates as nightstands, mended, tatty duvet, crayon portraits-- Draco nodded. "Hell."

"The Burrow. Do you know what day it is?"

"If I'd known there was going to be a pop quiz I would've tried to dream of revising." Draco gestured for the glass and Potter supplied it.

"You've been asleep for a little under a week. We've gotten the final Horcrux. I've killed Voldemort." Potter took the glass away. "Do you understand what this means, Draco?"

"My question is: When did we get to be on a first-name basis, Potter?"

In spite of Potter's dogged and obviously practiced line of inquiry and information packing, this question threw him and he blushed. "I just assumed that since you were on our side..."

"You assume too much. About our relationship, or lack thereof, as well as what side I'm on." He took the glass from Potter and stuffed the straw in his mouth.

"The trials have started and you did an awful lot for the Order for not being on our side," said Potter flatly.

Draco was glad Potter's eyes were averted, because it was his turn to blush. It hadn't occurred to him that his actions would be testified about.

"Yeah, well--" but there was no way to end that sentence in a dignified manner, so he sucked on the straw again.

"So is what Ginny says true? You spied on the Death Eaters for her?" Potter's expression was inscrutable, but Draco got the idea that Potter didn't believe it, or at least didn't want to believe it.

"She wasn't captured till later. You know that."

Potter ruffled his hair and nodded. "I tried to tell her that, but she seems quite certain that you two..."

"Christ." Draco rubbed his hand over his face. Open season from the Death Eaters, a grand escape and a week-long coma and he had to wake up to a school-girl crush.

"I'll try again to explain it to her. It's the least of the bad news I have to tell you." Potter pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and took the empty glass from Draco. From somewhere in the gloom behind him, Potter produced a plain ham sandwich. "Are you hungry?"

Draco poked at the sandwich. "I was."

He flashed a wry smile at Draco. "No one knows what you like to eat."

"This was the first guess?" Draco held the sandwich between his thumb and forefinger like one would hold a dirty nappy.

"It was what was on hand. Do you want to hear the news, or not?"

Tonelessly, Draco answered. "My mum and father are dead."

Potter nodded slowly. "And Dolohov wasn't rounded up. There were a few Death Eaters that weren't, but Carrows indicated that Dolohov would be of particular interest to you."

Draco winced, not just because Dolohov was probably looking for him, but because Carrows talked and that meant that everything had probably come out. Everything but what happened with Carrows, which was really the least embarrassing.

"I'm sorry, Draco-- Malfoy."

"It's all right, Harry Potter." Draco handed the sandwich back to Potter-- Harry-- whatever; he wasn't hungry now.

"Do you want to hear the good news now?" Harry took the sandwich and put it back into the gloom.

It must've been the wee hours of the morning if they'd been talking and no one had burst in to pontificate their feelings on his arrival. At least Bill wasn't around to bite him. The stripe of dawn peeking through the faded-to-yellow curtains confirmed his belief.

"There's good news?"

"They're thinking of awarding you an Order of Merlin."

Draco laughed at first, but Harry wasn't kidding. "Well, first butt boy to get a prize for fucking. I can't wait."

He took some satisfaction that the notion made Harry squirm and hesitate. "The next part might not be good news, exactly."

"My day has been filled with sunshine up to this point, Potter. Please don't harsh my mellow." He waved Harry on to just give him the news after a moment of confused silence.

"The Malfoy Manor is yours."

Draco sat up, his eyes wide and pleading for Harry not to be joking, although he didn't seem to be the joking sort today. "It's still intact?"

"Yes, the Order secured it and it is protected by the Fidelius Charm. I'm your Secret Keeper for now. We can change it as soon as you're able." Harry stood. "That's it. You can go back to sleep now."

As much as he'd wanted Harry to leave at the start, suddenly he wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone. He was exhausted, though. The short conversation with its ups and downs had taken quite a bit out of him, but he was pleased about the Manor.

They were wrong. You could go home again. Draco couldn't wait. "Thanks."

Harry nodded and headed for the door. He paused just before his hand hit the knob and whirled around. "So Malfoy, are you all right?"

His expression was shadowed by position. Draco could see his crossed arms, but nothing of whether he cared about how he answered this question or not.

Best to placate and say everything's fine.

While he was nodding and Draco felt the words 'I'm fine' forming on his lips, what came out was, "No."

The doorway was quiet for a moment and Draco wondered if Harry was silently laughing or simply gloating over how rotten things were. Instead, Harry said, "Me neither."

--

When he woke up again, he was in his own bed; thick, soft sheets, a giant mattress with posters that spiraled towards the vaulted ceiling that held a modest chandelier-- but a chandelier nonetheless. Above him were his Quidditch posters, the only space on his walls not claimed by his mum for fine decorating-- a concession to allow Draco some freedom to express himself. Truth told, he didn't care for watching Quidditch that much, but he wasn't sure what else he should put up there. Quidditch seemed safe.

The distinct fatty smell of a fry up wafted through his room and Draco, secretly hoping that this had all been a bad dream, pulled on his dressing gown and padded down the corridor, then the marble stairs till he made it to the kitchen. Harry was standing over the food, hopping back when it snapped loudly.

"You're a little big for a house-elf." Draco helped himself to a cup of tea.

"They're all gone." Harry scooped the food out and set it to drain over the fryer.

Draco's eyes widened and then furrowed.

"Your mum released them all before she..." Harry opened cupboards looking for plates.

Draco opened one on the other side of the huge kitchen and set out two plates. "Topped herself off?" He relished Harry's silent awkwardness. "It was the smart move on her part. Things can get very bad where Death Eaters are involved."

"Right." Harry parceled out servings for each of them.

"House-elves probably kept trying to stop her. I'm glad she left me at least one."

Harry gave him a questioning look, but Draco just kept grinning at him. Harry rolled his eyes realizing Draco meant him. "I volunteered to keep an eye on you until Dolohov was caught or you were well enough to see to things on your own."

"A volunteer house-elf. How quaint." Draco led them to the extensive formal dining area. He set down his plate and eyed the huge stack of letters all addressed to him in the same writing.

"Those are from Ginny. She... wouldn't take my word on why you saved her, probably because I didn't have a better explanation." Harry sat down and tucked into his food, but kept his eyes on Draco as if he might burst into flame.

Which he wanted to do. Or maybe just have the letters burst into flame. This whole ordeal was already making him exceedingly tired. "This must be hard on you."

"Not really." Harry looked at Draco and smirked. "I'm a coward anyway, I don't deserve her."

"Oh right, I forgot how cowardly you are." He smirked back at Harry. "Is that true?"

"No. Well, yes. I don't know, maybe."

"Just so long as it's clear in your mind." Draco ate a few more bites, but after not having food for so long, he wasn't terribly interested. Fry ups were so déclassé, anyway.

"The reason I gave her was true. She was captured, so that proves me out. I don't regret it and don't really want to revisit a relationship with her."

"She's found someone else anyway." Draco folded his napkin and set it to the left of his plate.

"Are you gay, Malfoy?"

The question was so abrupt that it took a moment for Draco to sound it out to make sense of it. He drummed his fingers on the table in the way that Narcissa had said a million times not to. No one to stop him now. "I suppose as far as past practice dictates, that would be a fair assessment."

"Just because some damaged people did things to you doesn't mean that..." Harry appeared to have lost his appetite as well and tossed his napkin on his plate and stood.

"I've only loved someone once, he was a man. A straight man. I don't know what would've happened had he been more willing. Before that I was with Pansy, but we didn't do much of anything. She and I were better as friends, although we never really broke up. Think I should owl her?" Draco stacked his plate on top of Harry's, but Harry snatched them away to take them to a kitchen.

"I think you should have a bath."

"Will you wait outside the door to make sure my loofah isn't possessed?"

Harry headed out the door with the dishes in hand, "I'll wait inside if you're that scared."

Draco wasn't sure what to make of that, but it made him blush. Figuring Harry was just taking the mickey out of him; he blew it off and headed to the bath.

--

It had been months since he'd been able to have a proper bath, so he luxuriated in his claw foot tub, filling it with bubbles while he allowed the warm water to soothe his aching muscles. The bathroom was just as he'd left it, only dustier. He cast a few cleansing charms to shine up the marble flooring and to make the brass fixtures glisten. Rose and lavender permeated the air with a note of relaxation.

He rested his head against the lip of the tub and let his left hand dangle as his right moved slowly over his abdomen, teasing himself. Draco was slightly embarrassed that his choice of wank fantasy included Harry's offhand remark-- I'll wait inside-- and all of the possibilities that might entail.

Draco pictured Harry sitting at the vanity, watching him fondle himself and shaking his head, calling him dirty, telling him to stop thinking about him. Another image of Harry standing over the tub, green eyes locked on Draco's hand as he tossed himself off, not saying a word. The vision of Harry blushing at the sight and turning around seemed most likely, but came and left without much fanfare. What finished him off was Harry slipping into the tub, sliding behind him and replacing Draco's hand with his own and pulling him off as he rubbed his cock between his cheeks-- not fucking him, but getting off against him nevertheless.

With the bubbles vanishing into soapy water, now soiled with streams of ejaculate breaking up in the murky water; Draco was done. He toweled off, relishing the comparative softness of his home towels. Then he wrapped himself up in his plush dressing gown and pulled the drain and headed to his room.

So many childish things, even after the summer before his sixth year where he'd ransacked his own room, trying to remove any trace of his childhood because he was the man of the house now. He realized how juvenile that action was and cringed at the memory. Now he wished for those precious souvenirs.

He paused in front of the mantle and used his wand to stoke the fire before eyeing each photograph, set up in meticulous chronological order. Him as a baby, his mum holding him, both of his parents looked pleased and yet reserved. He squirmed in her arms and she kissed his head. Draco swallowed and moved to the next picture. He was a toddler confronted by a small rabbit. It was hard to say which of them was more frightened. The bunny jumped and Draco jumped back and fell on his arse. He didn't know why he'd kept that picture, other than he always thought a person falling was funny-- even if it was him.

After that was a series of solemn family portraits, not much to show the family life he'd experienced, at least not the happier times. Perhaps his father was distant and his mum might've drunk a bit much at times and embarrassed him, but there was more to it all than these pictures would show. Towards the end were more candid photographs of him from Hogwarts; dressed in his Quidditch kit for the first time, at the Yule Ball looking dignified and not at all like a vicar, and the Quidditch Cup with Goyle looking perplexed.

Crabbe and Goyle-- he hadn't thought about them in months. They hadn't had to run, they were probably still at Hogwarts, maybe following a new leader about. He hoped so; while they were slow, they were the only friends he'd ever had.

Feeling the impending need to cry, Draco turned abruptly to his wardrobe and pulled on one of his casual robes in a dull grey. There was no need to impress Potter, and it was soft, warm and comforting.

Heading down the corridor, he was surprised to hear voices and halted. Female voice and Potter-- they were arguing. After a beat, he sussed the tone to be Ginny's and headed to the doorway of the drawing room for a better listen.

"I don't care that you don't approve, Harry. I don't need your approval."

"It's not a matter of approving or disapproving; he just doesn't need your company right now. He's been through a lot, it was the first meal he'd come to. I only sent you an owl because you were so worried; I didn't want you to come over here."

Ginny laughed. "Don't kid yourself. You knew I'd come over in a heartbeat. You just don't want me to see him because you want to talk to me. To be honest, before all of this happened I'd have been thrilled at your attempt to reach out to me, but I've been through a lot now, too. I can help him. If he doesn't want that help, let him tell me."

"For the last time, that's not why I contacted you. At all. And as for Malfoy, needs more rest. He's only had one proper meal, and if he wanted to see you, he'd send for you," said Harry, sounding peeved.

"He's probably too embarrassed to send for me. I just want to let him know I'm around and available and I understand why he did what he did with those men. Then I'll thank him for saving me."

"Ginny, he didn't do this for you. He was spying before you got there, I told you that. And since when has Malfoy been a shrinking violet who can't say exactly what he wants?"

Draco frowned and stared at the burning lamp at the other side of the hall, fingering the braided material on the hem of his sleeve, trying to decide whether he wanted to enter into this debate or not. It seemed like they were doing a good job deciding things for him.

"I can do the math, Harry. I understand the whole thing wasn't for me, but he took a huge risk to get me out of there before something really horrid happened."

Draco lowered his head and glared at the parquet floor. Once upon a time he'd wanted all the accolades he could get, now he just wanted to forget everything that had happened. That wasn't Ginny's fault, she probably wanted to talk about it, he just wasn't sure he could do that-- not for her, not for anybody.

"Could you please just wait?" Harry's voice was tight and over-polite, like the final plea of a man about to lose his temper.

"What are you hiding? What are you afraid is going to happen? You said yourself he's not a shrinking violet, if he doesn't want to see me, he'll say so and I'll leave. I just want to see him."

Clearly, Ginny wasn't having Harry's protest and if he didn't want to hear a shouting match, he was going to have to intervene. With a long, slow exhale, Draco rounded the corner and stood dead-eyed in the doorway.

"Draco." Harry's countenance was too filled with emotions to attach just one to. Eventually it melted into pity and Draco wanted to plow his fist into his face.

Ginny whirled around and grabbed Draco into an embrace with preternatural speed. "Draco, I'm so glad you're all right."

She smelled sweet like freshly baked cookies and syrup. Draco would've fought the contact had she not been so quick about it, but now that she was here; he found he really wanted a hug, even if he felt incapable of returning it. He pressed his face into her hair and immersed himself in the warmth, but was incapable of speaking.

Harry sighed loudly and flopped onto a divan.

"Don't mind him, he's just jealous." Ginny pulled back enough to look at Draco. She curled a finger under his chin to force him to look into her eyes. "I don't mind fighting with him to see you, so don't worry about that, all right?"

Draco perked a brow. At what point did it seem like he had a problem with irritating Harry? "I'll try to keep my fretting to a minimum."

She smiled and caressed his cheek. Draco remembered his mum doing that and charily pulled away. "Draco, I want to stay here and help you through this. Harry's here to protect you, but he... lacks empathy for people who are not him."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Because nothing says 'I have empathy' quite like forcing your company on someone."

"I'm pretty sure he didn't ask you to move in with him," Ginny shot back.

"I'm here for his and my protection. You invited yourself over." Harry stood and crossed the drawing room crowded with dark furniture to confront her.

"What do you think, Draco?" Ginny asked.

He was surprised someone cared to ask, but since they were... "I think you had bloody well stop calling me by my first name."

At Ginny's hurt expression, Draco sighed and shook his head. "I don't care who's here or who isn't, but I'm not going to talk about... any of... what happened before. So don't ask."

He didn't stop to listen to whatever else anyone said as this conversation had already made him quite tired and he thought it a time for a nap. As he left the room, he heard the argument start again. Louder.

Draco slammed the door to his room to block it out.

--

There was a knock at the door. Draco lurched awake and glanced at the clock. In the dark, it glowed half eight. He'd slept the whole day.

Tightening the sash on his dressing gown, he opened the door, expecting Ginny, but it was Harry with a plate of curry. Draco took the plate and utensils and went to sit at the small white table in his room he'd once played tea on. After he was set up to eat, with his utensils laid out just so, he began to eat. "She staying?"

Harry followed Draco in and shut the door behind him and took the spot at the table across from him. "She is. She means well, but she's like her mum sometimes; gets a little too wrapped up in her need to help and forgets that sometimes people need some space."

Draco ate a few bites of curry as he tried to form a response, but found he didn't have one other than a defeated, "Oh."

"I can tell her not to. In fact, I have the power to keep her out completely if that's what you want." Harry rested his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. For reasons that Draco didn't care to think about, he found this gesture adorable.

"As you pointed out, I don't have a problem expressing myself. I honestly don't care if she moves in or not." He stabbed at the curry, wondering why he was having a problem expressing how little he wanted her to live there. At least the manor was big; she would be easy enough to avoid.

"It's your house, Malfoy. If you wanted, you could even ask me to leave. I'd help set the Fidelius Charm for you and even I wouldn't know where you were." Harry hadn't moved an inch, and was therefore, still appearing quite endearing, especially with that fiercely protective gaze. It reminded him of the way Snape used to look at him.

"No, I want you to stay. I need a body to throw at Dolohov should I need to make an escape." He stirred the remains of his dinner and then dropped his fork, leaving it mostly uneaten.

Harry grinned and shook his head. "I was thinking the same thing about you."

"Maybe you could throw Ginny instead. We could make a clean getaway together." Draco shoved his plate away from him and sat back in his chair, watching Harry's smile fade. "That was a joke."

"No, it's not that-- I got you were making a joke. Just... Ginny living here..." Harry frowned and dropped his hand from his chin to the top of the table with a soft thwap.

"Are you worried I'll steal her away?" For whatever reason, the answer to that was incredibly important to Draco and he clocked every flicker of emotion on Harry's face.

"That hadn't even occurred to me." Harry seemed amused by Draco's confused and then irritated expression.

"You're a cocky twat, did you know?" As if he couldn't steal a girl from Harry if he wanted to.

Harry laughed. "I don't know about cocky, she's just not mine to steal from. But if it gets you off to believe that it would bother me, then go for it. I just don't get the impression she's your type."

Draco decided to give the implications of Harry's statement a miss. It could be taken a lot of ways; Draco chose to leave it at face value. "She's not."

That seemed to please Harry, which Draco found vexing, but it was the truth. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. I doubt Mrs. Weasley would allow her to move out. After everything that's happened, I think she wants to keep an eye on her." Harry stood and took Draco's plate. "I'm going to turn in soon. In the morning I'm going to buy us a telly. If we're going to be stuck in here, we might as well be entertained."

"A telly in Malfoy Manor. If he weren't already dead, that would kill my father."

Harry nodded and grinned, "I won't tell if you don't." He headed for the door, stopping after he'd opened it. "Try not to stay up too late, you still need rest."

Another father is born.

"I'll do my best."

--

The telly turned out to be both an effective means of killing time and a conversation preventative. This suited Draco just fine as while Ginny had not moved in, she did show up daily to watch with him. Draco favoured game shows to the rest, finding Muggles behaving oddly in the hopes of cash prizes much more amusing than any one person had a right to.

Draco didn't mind Ginny's presence, but he was thankful that Harry instituted the rule of talking only during the segments of the programme that interrupted the flow of what he was watching with advertisements. He was further pleased that Ginny mostly kept quiet during said advertisements, as they were often amusing as well.

Before meal times, Harry would excuse himself from the arm chair he normally sat in to prepare food. Draco joined him on the pretense of being interested in the cooking process, but in truth, he was a bit uncomfortable being alone with Ginny. She'd never done anything untoward, but she tended to ask questions that Draco either didn't have answers to, or just didn't want to answer. She wanted to talk about her feelings about her abduction and his feelings about being there. He was content to listen to her talk, she was easy enough to tune out, especially with the telly in the background, but he was terribly uncomfortable with speaking about any of it.

Watching Harry was much more comfortable, as he didn't ask questions. He simply prepared the meal and answered the occasional food-related question. Ginny would remain in the drawing room until the food was ready and took it with them, with the exception of dinner which Mrs. Weasley was adamant she be home for.

Though it was awkward at times, Draco was comforted by the routine. He decided he must have gotten terribly comfortable with Harry given a couple of rather lewd dreams over the last couple of weeks. He was slightly nervous that eventually he would have a tawdry dream about Ginny, but it didn't happen.

One afternoon, Draco found his enjoyment of Countdown marred by Ginny setting her head on his shoulder. The action itself wasn't an issue; no one really got that arsed off over gestures such as that, but Draco wasn't sure how to take it. He'd sat with her on the couch for nearly a month and she hadn't made a move as bold as this. He shot Harry a questioning look, but Harry was staring fixedly at the telly. Draco felt abandoned and confused. He said nothing and followed Harry off to make dinner as usual.

The next day, it happened again. The day after that, her head rested on his shoulder yet again. Draco thought it must be a terribly uncomfortable position to maintain for hours in a day, but she wasn't relenting, nor did she seem achy. He let it go.

After a few days, she took to placing her hand on his leg. At first it seemed she was going to reach for his hand, but he moved it too quickly and began sitting with his arms crossed over his chest. Again, Harry stared stoically at the telly and Draco was too afraid to ask him what to do about it when they were alone.

She had progressed to sliding her fingers gently over the back of his neck when he decided he needed to say something. The problem was that he had nothing to say. It felt good, actually, but the implications he knew were going to be too much for him to deal with. He looked over to Harry in the blind hope that moral support might finally be forthcoming, but he was gone from his chair.

The next day Harry did not return to his chair and Ginny took to nuzzling his neck during advertisements. This did feel rather nice, but he was becoming more and more anxious about her intentions. She was closing in for an actual kiss when Draco excused himself to the bathroom. When he returned, he claimed Harry's armchair and stuck to it.

Ginny didn't return for a couple of days.

"She's not here Draco; you don't have to look so wild-eyed," Harry said after entering the den with a plate of biscuits.

Draco leaned forward to snatch one and then sat back in the armchair to enjoy it. "I did not look wild-eyed."

Harry pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. "The coast is clear; you can sit on the couch again."

"Doesn't matter, the chair is fine. Unless you want it back, in which case I'd have to tell you that it's good to want things, it builds character." He snatched another warm biscuit from the plate sitting on the rosewood coffee table and sat back with it.

Taking a seat on the couch, Harry shrugged. "I figured I'd sit here with you. Then if Ginny comes back, she can sit at the armchair and you will remain unmolested."

"Do you think she'd come back?" asked Draco.

Harry looked annoyed.

"If you want her to come back, you could owl her." Harry appeared like he was going to stand, but then flopped against the couch again.

Draco wasn't sure what he'd said to offend Harry. Maybe he wasn't as over Ginny as he'd said.

"I don't necessarily want her to come back... I just... look, do you want me to sit on the couch with you or not? It would be impolitic for me to sit there if you want to win Ginny back."

Harry shot Draco a queer look and then patted the cushion next to him. "I want you to sit here."

--

"Did you take a vow of silence today or something?" asked Harry as he moved his queen into the line of Draco's rook.

Draco winced at what a crap chess player Harry was. His moves were all gutsy, to be sure, but lacked vision, planning, cunning. Not the worst Draco had seen, but for some reason he'd expected better.

The move was so distracting that in spite of the fact that he'd heard him quite fine, Draco croaked, "What?" His voice was rough and dry and it occurred to him that he really hadn't said much of anything.

"You barely even talked back to the telly. Did you finally catch on that they couldn't hear you?" Harry grinned impassively.

It might've been more cutting if Wizarding entertainment wasn't responsive. Reading how Harry meant that proved impossible, so Draco just took his queen off the board. "Not much to say, I guess."

That wasn't actually true; he had plenty to say, but couldn't quite figure out what exactly he had to say. Draco stared at the queen in his hand, recounting how he had spent most of the day with Harry watching the telly at his side, clocking every muscle shift with concern.

In his mind he practiced all of the ways he would respond should Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, rest his head on his shoulder. He debated the merits of holding his hand and what it might feel like if Harry's lips brushed against his neck. None of these thoughts required much talking, and it kept him from paying much attention to what was going on onscreen.

Harry barely looked at the chessboard. Draco could feel his eyes on him.

"Are you uncomfortable that Ginny's been gone?" Harry finally asked.

He seemed to pick a piece up at random and moved it on the board. Draco was pretty sure it was an illegal move, but he was getting the unsettling impression that this game wasn't being played on the board.

"No."

If he was being played, he wasn't going to make it easy. Draco checkmate, even though it was readily available.

"Then why the silent treatment?" Harry made another random move and his expression dared Draco to point it out.

Instead, Draco kept his head bowed; trying to use his hair to conceal his blush, knowing full well what he was thinking about probably wasn't what Harry wanted to hear. He scanned the chessboard as if it had something that Harry might want to hear.

"Worried, I guess."

"About Dolohov?"

The answer came quickly, and it must've been what was on Harry's mind, so Draco nodded slowly.

"Or about Ginny's advances?"

Those had been unexpected and a little uncomfortable, but he wasn't that upset over them. "It's not the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"I wrote to Mrs. Weasley and asked her if she could try to keep Ginny at home a few days, that she was pressuring you." Harry gestured to the board. "Going to make your move?"

Draco took the knight. "What did she say to that?"

"I think Mrs. Weasley was relieved. I don't get the impression she likes you overmuch after what happened to Bill even with all of the accolades for your spying." Harry made another clumsy move which assured Draco that he was throwing the game.

"The Malfoy-Weasley feud is pretty extensive. The feeling is mutual." At Harry's look, Draco added, "Ginny's all right, I suppose."

"So you like her."

This time Draco went for checkmate, ending the game. "I don't hate her. That's a long way from liking her. She means well, I guess. I'm not sure what she wants from me."

Harry let the pieces run back under the board and set themselves back into their places on the green felt. "Maybe she wants to comfort you, make you feel better. You did save her, no matter what pretense you use to hide behind. You did something good and she feels something for you. I don't think she's trying to gain an advantage."

"She doesn't owe me comfort and she's... not my type." Draco sat back in his chair, deciding to leer at Harry after that statement, just to see what he'd do.

"That's what I thought." Harry blushed faintly, but it went away quickly and he held Draco's gaze. "You were just doing your job as a spy."

Draco nodded and crossed his arms, not sure where this was going.

"I was scared when I saw you, you looked so different. But then you said you were a spy and do you know what I thought of?" He grinned at Draco and Draco prepared to be offended. "Us in our first year with you following me about after curfew."

That idea took Draco back to a simpler time, where he fancied himself as dangerous to Harry as the Dark Lord. He let his head fall back and laughed, remembering how stupidly afraid they all were. "I was destined to be..."

His eyes rested on Harry who was gazing at him with an unmistakable affection. "Destined to be a spy, hm?" asked Harry.

For a brief, stupid moment Draco thought that Harry wanted to kiss him since he was staring at him with such adoration. They slowly closed the distance over the chess board, lips lazily pressed together, so sweet and warm. The soft feel of breath against breath before heads tilted and lips parted, tongues met and teased, tasting, feeling each other for the first time.

Draco's hands cupped Harry's cheeks, holding him in place as he drew the kiss out tenderly while Harry moved down his arms to pull him in at the waist as they sidestepped the chess table. They pressed together into this long kiss that felt no apprehension, no fear-- nothing but possibility.

Though he'd had many by now, Draco counted it as his first real kiss.

Which was what made it so disappointing when Harry pulled back and gave Draco a confused look and wiped his mouth over the back of his hand before saying breathlessly, "That wasn't supposed to happen."

It was Snape all over again, and Draco had never felt like such an idiot. "Right, well..."

"It's late."

"Very."

"I'm going to..." Harry nearly tripped backing out of the room. Draco almost laughed at the way Harry put his hands over his arse as he went. Almost.

Maybe if he could breathe, if it didn't hurt so much, he would have.

"Right."

Draco went back to his room and owled a message to Ginny.

--

Maybe it wasn't exactly what he wanted, but it was becoming quickly apparent that what he wanted and what he got were always going to be miles apart. Ginny stroked her fingers through his hair as the telly ran its nonsense in the background. Draco kept his eyes closed as she burbled about how her mum had protested her coming, especially given Harry's note, and how thrilled she was that Draco's owl delivered his scroll in the midst of that debate proving her right.

He might've felt a twinge of guilt, but all he was doing was laying his head in her lap. Maybe he was using her a little, but as far as he could tell, he was being used by one or both of them already, so he might as well get in a few hits himself.

When he finally peeked back at the armchair where Harry usually sat, he found Harry glaring back at him.

Draco smirked and Harry looked away.

--

Draco lay next to Ginny on his bed, sprawled out enough so that their hands were touching. He stared at the molding encircling his mini-chandelier, thinking not for the first time that it was a bit much for a bedroom but that it really wasn't his call, now was it?

He was pleased that Ginny wore robes rather than the latest Muggle fashions. Draco realized that probably had more to do with her inability to afford anything but mended robes, but he preferred to think that on some level she accepted the old ways. Still, they were tatty and peach didn't suit her. Her hand was creeping towards his when he sat up and all at once announced, "You need new robes."

Ginny sat up, her hair askew and face puzzled. "We can't go shopping."

Standing, Draco offered his arm. "Oh ye of little faith."

--

Narcissa's room was cold in decor, all steel and blue grey with glinting silver and gold accoutrements scattered over heavy mahogany furniture. Ginny examined her reflection in the tall round mirror of a vanity. The brocade was exquisite, even if Draco wasn't sure that the burgundy did much for Ginny's complexion.

He'd never realized just how small and frail his mum was until he watched Ginny trying to squeeze into her clothing.

The room had remained empty since he'd gotten here-- there were many rooms too painful to explore. In the absence of his father's presence in the last couple of years he'd lived here, he'd taken to calling this room his mum's. Soon, it would just be a room; maybe his room.

"What do you think?" Ginny twirled and the bottom of the robe flared into an unflattering balloon and then fell.

"Looks great."

"You didn't even look!" Ginny grinned and lifted his chin with her curled fingers to force Draco to look into her brown eyes.

It only took an instant, a heartbeat before Ginny's lips were mashed to his and her hands tangled in his hair. There wasn't much Draco could say about the kiss other than it was both skillful and unwelcome, so he gently pushed her back.

"I don't understand, why did you ask me to come back?" She sighed and flopped onto the bed, folding her arms as she gave Draco a petulant glare worthy of...well... him.

Draco followed, crawling onto the bed as he watched Ginny try to disguise her irritation. He rolled onto his back and dropped his head in her lap, implying play with my hair as he'd often done with Pansy. She complied immediately and Draco exhaled in slow relief. "I thought it would make Potter angry."

She tugged his hair enough to make him wince. "Ooooh, I see now. Using me to make him jealous isn't going to work, you know." He could hear the resignation in her voice and hoped that it would stick this time.

"He seemed plenty jealous to me." Draco watched her face, absently counting freckles on her nose as she studied his face. She appeared to be contemplating telling him something that was obviously not to her benefit to say.

"There are many reasons why I think Harry's a coward. It wasn't just that... well, yes, his reasons for dumping me were lame and cowardly, but there's a reason I didn't really fight him on it as well." Ginny returned to stroking his hair and Draco ditched counting freckles to close his eyes and enjoy being petted.

"What would those reasons be? Because he's a dork with glasses that's more interested in being a hero than sex? That he's a clumsy social retard that acts like someone brought up in a cupboard? Or did he just have bad breath?" Draco smirked when she tugged his hair this time, expecting it and surprisingly relaxed in her presence. Or maybe it wasn't a surprise; perhaps it was desperation for someone to talk to. He didn't care to analyze.

"You tell me. He spent most of the year following you around, up until he caught me with Dean. Then after we were together he kept worrying about what Ron would think up until he broke up with me worried I'd be in danger from Death Eaters." She'd begun tracing his lips with her index finger and Draco couldn't deny that the gentle touches were arousing, and she really was beautiful.

He just didn't want her.

It was a shame, because she really was warm, gentle and funny.

Draco adjusted his head on her lap so that he could move his lips away from her finger and was relieved that she took the hint. "Good call on that last bit."

"Yeah, but I don't think that's really why we broke up." Ginny sighed. "I always fall for the gay ones."

"I always fall for the straight ones," he replied before he could weigh his words.

His eyes snapped open, but she looked more amused than perturbed.

"Not this time."

--

"Draco, you're leading her on! You know you don't have feelings for her; you're just trying to get at me for... " Harry gestured for Draco to finish the sentence.

Draco rolled his eyes that Harry couldn't even verbalize that they'd shared a kiss. "You seem to be seeking someone who cares what you think. There is no one that fits that description here. Maybe you should try another room."

He spared a smirk for Harry's exasperation-- even if he still wasn't sure who he was jealous of. Strangely, he didn't feel at all bad that Harry walked in on he and Ginny napping together, his head still resting in her lap and her red hair spread over the pillows. It wasn't exactly the most scandalous of tableaus, but Harry was ticked.

From Draco's perspective, he'd been completely upfront with Ginny and while she wasn't exactly pleased to have fixated on two queers in a row, she took it fairly well. At least they were friends, or so she said when she hugged him before taking the Floo back to the Burrow.

"Maybe you should try another house!" Harry said, his eyes bright and fierce.

Harry's ferocity was wasted effort; Draco wasn't intimidated. "This is my house."

"Then maybe I should leave."

The stupidity of the situation made it hard not to laugh. Draco gaped at him. If this was Harry Potter attracted to him, then he'd hate to see how he behaved when he didn't like him. "Maybe you should."

"Maybe I will!"

But Harry wasn't moving. In fact, he didn't even look inclined to go anywhere other than the way his eyes were wildly moving around the room, perhaps looking for something to throw.

Draco folded his arms. He knew he should probably back down, but he just didn't want to.

"What's stopping you?"

For a moment, Harry looked hurt. Then his face screwed up with the effort of thought. "Dolohov could figure out a way around the Fidelius. Then you'd be left here alone-- a sitting duck with no one to help you because I'm your Secret Keeper."

Right, except that the Fidelius Charm was basically foolproof and aside from actually being a fool, Dolohov had the disadvantage of being completely nutters. Draco knew this and was pretty sure Harry did as well. He took a small victory in Harry's desperation and decided to twist the knife. "Ginny knows how to get here."

"Shows how little you care about her that you'd put her in danger like that." Harry stepped closer, getting right into Draco's frustrated face, glaring down at him.

"When did I ever say I cared about her?" Draco growled, hoisting himself onto his toes to correct the size gap. They were nose-to-nose now, lips so close to one another that they almost brushed, but bodies tensed for a fight. It was excruciating to be this close to Harry and not grab him, not kiss him, not press his growing erection into his hip just to hear him yelp with helpless fear over what to do with it.

"Then why did you ask her to come back?"

Draco wanted to see what Harry's full expression was. All he could see were his eyes, and at this proximity it made them nearly impossible to read, especially since his glasses were starting to fog over.

"To tick you off."

Unlike the night before, this kiss was awkward with bumping lips and noses. Draco wrote it off to Harry's inexperience at being in control. He refused to acknowledge that he might've been too eager for it.

It was he who whimpered at Harry's length digging against his leg, but he was comforted and pleased with Harry's response whimper followed by a low moan as Draco slid his fingers through the belt loops to hold him in place as he ground against him and dragged them to the bed.

There was something morally lacking about frotting against your former nemesis on the powder blue duvet on your dead mum's bed, but at the moment all Draco could think about was the hard press of the promise of what was to come against the crook of his leg, making him tremble.

Finding Harry's glasses jabbing into his cheek uncomfortable, Draco broke an arm off the frame trying to remove them. He yanked Harry's oversized t-shirt over his head; sparks of static electricity crackled through Harry's hair, making him appear untamable. Between the redness of Harry's debauched lips, the blackness of his hair, the white pallor of his complexion and his brutal green eyes, Draco was awash with lust and the need to corrupt his innocently blissful expression.

"Fuck me," breathed Draco.

The impact of Draco's bluntness made Harry visibly shiver, but his eyes widen in alarm.

"I've never... I don't know if..." babbled Harry.

"I have."

It was probably a monumentally bad idea to go from war to love, even if this wasn't actually love but something else entirely. He shoved Harry back and started to unbutton his own robes.

"Strip," commanded Draco.

Harry looked doubtful, but shirtless with his otherwise loose jeans obviously bulged, he couldn't deny his interest. Draco slipped an ivory shoulder from his robe, then the other. When he stood the clothing rippled to the floor, leaving him undone. He cupped the front of Harry's pants, nudging the length with the palm of his hand.

As Harry's eyes fluttered closed, his resolve snapped and he dug into his belt and jeans to follow Draco's instruction.

Though Draco had had sex many times, he'd never really been the one with the most experience, nor was he ever really in control. This time he wasn't the shuddering virgin. He touched delicately over Harry's shoulders and down his chest, marveling in the moment that Harry Potter was naked in front of him.

He wanted to appreciate it, but he realized that the uncertain look in Harry's eyes might curtail his fun. No matter what happened after this, whether Harry in a fit of denial decided to stop talking to him, or Dolohov came in the night and slaughtered him, he would always be Harry's first.

Kneeling in front of him, he scattered kisses down his body, feeling Harry's warm, soft cock snuggling against his neck until he backed off enough to slide it into his mouth.

Draco got no small amount of pleasure from Harry's surprise, and the way that he kept his eyes keen to his mouth swallowing Harry's prick. Or maybe Harry was just taking the moment to appreciate that Draco Malfoy was kneeling in front of him doing this. Awkwardly, Harry patted Draco's head and finding that he wasn't prevented from touching him, slid his fingers through his hair.

Satisfied that Harry was hard and that he'd left enough spittle on his prick to ease his invasion, Draco released him and backed himself onto the bed, rolling over onto his belly. He brought his knees under him and spread them as he raised his arse up. The cool air teased his opening and Draco felt utterly exposed. First he felt Harry's hands on his cheeks, spreading them further with a tender care Draco had not experienced before. His skin tingled with the touch.

As arousing as kissing Harry was, and the groping, sucking and frotting-- Harry's cool, exploring fingers and the way Draco could just feel his intense curiosity stroking him like tendrils of fog, was even more electrifying. Harry's thumb pushed into him and he looked over his shoulder to see Harry eyeing his thumb with suspicion. Then he slipped a dry finger into him and Draco breathed through his teeth. It didn't hurt exactly; it was more of a slight sting to the entry.

"I... don't know if I can," Harry confessed.

Draco sat up on his heels and turned to kiss him again, pulling him to the bed and laying him down on soft linens. He kissed his cock again, rewetting it before he straddled Harry, legs on either side of his waist.

"You want to," Draco assured him.

Harry's blush confirmed it.

With his arm behind him to direct Harry's cock into him, Draco slowly pushed back, exhaling as he filled him. Harry's cock pushed aside muscle and skin to surround him utterly. It was better this way, Draco decided. He could see Harry's face, the way his eyes rolled back and the way his mouth worked to form words when all that came out was a moan.

It only took a few strokes before Harry came, but Draco was used to having sex without coming. He leaned down to kiss away the sweat that dotted Harry's face and then cuddled in next to him, spreading a claming hand over his chest. Draco watched it rise and fall as Harry's breaths slowed to a steady pace.