A Certain Kind of Memory

If life could give me one thing before I die;

it's the wisdom to accept when it's time,

but in the meantime, the courage

to scream that I won't go peacefully.

Harry Potter, August 2005.

It was with some surprise that Harry found himself in his own bed when he woke the next morning. He stretched and felt the delicious pull of muscles that sometimes almost felt as good as an orgasm. Almost. God, but it was good to wake up looking forward to the day for a change. Neville's party was this evening and Harry had spent a long time months ago looking for the perfect gift for his friend. He'd found it, in of all places, the Divination classroom at Hogwarts.

Among Professor Trelawney's class stores, he'd found a first edition Astrological Guide to Horticulture. There were only three of these books in existence. The Public Library had one as Lucius Malfoy had been in possession of a copy, a second one was owned by an undisclosed private collector and was inaccessible, but the third copy Harry had locked away in a safe place until tonight.

He was just lying there, contemplating getting up and starting his day, when there was a soft knock on the door and Draco walked in, carrying a cup of coffee.

"Wake up, sleepy head," he said as he placed the coffee on the bedside table. Without warning he jumped on Harry, straddling him on the bed, laughing at his surprised face.

"What are you doing?" Harry spluttered, hoping that Draco wouldn't move too much and reawaken his morning wood that had just about had time to disappear before being jumped on.

"Bringing you coffee and waking you up," he said, squirming around.

"Stop, Draco," Harry said, placing both hands on Draco's thighs. "That's completely unfair."

"I know." He smirked. "But then I'm rarely fair, Potter."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I'll remember this on a morning where you've had too much to drink the night before and I'll come and wake you up and try to do depraved things to your body."

"It would be my pleasure." Draco cooed and started moving around in Harry's lap again.

"Draco," Harry said warningly. "I'd like nothing better than to flip you over and fuck you through to next door, but that would take this where you don't want to go, so I mean it, stop now, or I won't."

Draco sighed. "All right, then." He rolled off Harry and lay down beside him on the bed. "I was thinking we should get some kind of house rules thing going. Like shower times and schedules and stuff. I really know nothing about your life, other than you have a deplorable lack of decent food. My God, how do you live?"

Harry thought for a moment, half sitting up in the bed and resting his back against the headboard. He picked up his coffee and sipped it, before speaking.

"I make do." He laughed. "I'm pretty easy going. I don't see why we need too many rules, we're both adults and we can sort things out as we go. How does that sound?"

"I really just want to know what time you normally shower, so I can make sure I'm home and can accidentally come in and watch you," Draco said, casually.

It made Harry choke on his coffee. "What's going on, Draco?" Harry asked when he recovered. "Are you going to be this flirty all the time or is this heading up to something else?"

"I don't know," groaned Draco. "I just...aarrrghh... feel so jumpy. I'm horny as hell and excited about the shop and I adore you and I just can't seem to help myself."

"Then how about you go and make yourself useful down at the shop, where you can be productive," Harry suggested.

"I will, but the suppliers aren't going to be there until ten and it's not even nine now. Sure we don't have time for a quickie?"

Draco!" Harry said, exasperated. "Look, maybe this isn't going to work. You want us to stay friends and we decide not to date because we don't want to risk that, and yet here you are, all over me offering some form of sexual relief. You're confusing me."

"We could always just have sex as friends. Have you never heard of that?" Draco stated bluntly.

"We could, but sex risks the friendship as much as a relationship does."

Draco sighed. "I know. I think I just need to get laid. Don't worry, I expect I'll find someone tonight at the party to help me out."

Harry frowned, knowing that the thought of Draco with someone else wasn't a very comfortable one. Not that he had any say in who Draco saw or dated, or fucked for that matter, and while he never saw it, it held no power to twinge the green eyed monster but living here in this flat with him all the time, he was going to have to put a tight rein on his envy. Draco must have caught the frown because he sighed and curled up against Harry's side brushing gentle fingertips across Harry's bare belly.

"We're pretty stupid, you know. I'd get just as jealous if you went off with any one other than me. What's going to happen to our friendship then if we're both angry and jealous? Maybe we should just decide to date."

Harry knew he'd give it a go in a second. He'd take whatever Draco was offering him in the hope that it would last for whatever time he had left. He was aware that entering into a relationship with Draco not knowing of his illness was wrong. Draco should have the choice of whether or not to be part of something that was going to cause him anguish in the end. But Harry wanted this. Badly. It was amazing that he'd have Draco in his life as a flat mate, which would stave off the loneliness, but he wanted that intimacy of a close relationship, too. Just once before he died. And he wanted the relationship unencumbered by anything resembling anxiety over his illness.

"Maybe we should," Harry said, placing his hand over Draco's on his stomach. "But I want you to think carefully about it. I would hate it to be in any way some sort of gratitude for helping you out, Draco."

"Harry," Draco said, half sitting up and looking down at him, scowling. "I'm actually quite insulted that you think I'd do that. Sex is not something I use as a bargaining tool. It's one of the reasons I didn't take you up on your first offer." Draco rose from the bed and stalked to the door. Before leaving, he turned gave Harry a hard, hurt look.

"In fact, that's twice now you've offended me regarding sex and my practice thereof. I think I need some time alone. I'll see you tonight at the party."

Then he turned and left the room, Harry hitting himself on the head and groaning at his stupidity.

***

Harry had planned on spending some time in the shop with Draco, helping him to set it up and unpack supplies and such when they arrived, but he thought he'd best give Draco some time on his own. They were off to a great start, he thought, if they wanted to not speak to each other and pretend the other wasn't there. He was an idiot, he knew that, and he'd have to figure out some way of apologising. And soon.

So instead of going out, he decided to remain inside and make a start on that book he said he'd write about his life. His autobiography. That sounded rather arrogant, as if assuming anyone would want to read about his life. Although in his case he knew it was necessary if he wanted something out there that was the truth and not sensationalised or romanticised, somehow.

After he'd showered and dressed, made himself some fresh coffee and a plate of summer fruits to snack on, he sat down and turned the computer on. He created a folder that he password protected, thinking that even though Draco had probably never used a computer before, he'd take no risks.

He really had no idea where to start, but he thought that a line or two about how he'd fought for his life might be a good start.

Tell a man he has a hundred years to live and watch him waste it.

Tell an eleven year old he might not live to finish school and watch him fight.

Tell a young man that he has a year to live and watch him live.

Since when had he become so philosophical? He rather liked that analogy for himself, so it would stay. A chronicle on the daily events of this last year in his life, the book was not, but death was an integral part of his story. He'd already died once, and this one was no less important, more so in fact, because it would be final.

If they'd told me when I was eleven what my life would have been like, were I able to understand the choices, would I have done anything any different?

I don't think you can live your life with regrets. There are many things I did wrong and wish with all my heart that they hadn't happened or I hadn't made those mistakes, but I think life or fate or destiny has a way of reminding us that our later choices - the right ones - are based on the lessons we learnt from our earlier mistakes and so, had those mistakes not been made, things may not have turned out as they have.

Let me tell you about my life, my choices and you decide...

Harry worked, writing away in his jerky four fingers typing style, cursing over mistakes but gladly worshipping the backspace key. It wasn't until lunchtime and Draco arriving home that he stopped, and by then he had quite a few pages of typing. Of course it was just a first draft and therefore would need a professional to go through and fix it, but it was all his own words and it was all the truth.

When Draco walked in the door, he quietly went to his room without a word and shortly Harry heard the shower running. He sighed. There must be some way of apologising to Draco and making it sound sincere. Everything he thought of sounded rehearsed and flat in his head. Making him lunch as a peace offering might be a start, he thought, and so he saved all his work before turning the computer off and doing just that.

A plate of sandwiches and more fruit were waiting on the table when Draco emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around his hips and drying his hair with another towel.

"I've made lunch," Harry called, trying and failing to keep his eyes from looking at Draco's chest.

"Thank you, I'm not really hungry though," Draco answered, perfectly politely. "I'm sorry I'm just in my towel, I'll just go and change into something decent for company."

"Draco, stop, please? I wanted to apologise for what I said earlier. I had no right to suggest that and I was wrong. I was just afraid that...that..." Harry stopped because he wasn't sure exactly what he'd been afraid of. Being hurt? Being resented because it had just been gratitude and Draco eventually finding himself unable to get out of it? Both probably. He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"I forgive you, Harry. But you were right; I do need to think about it seriously. As do you."

"I already know, Draco. If you couldn't already tell by my original offer, I do want to take it further, so now it has to be your decision."

Draco nodded, some of the animation coming back into his face. "I'll think about it and let you know. What's for lunch?"

"Good." Harry smiled, relieved that things looked like they might be returning to normal. "Sandwiches. Chicken salad. Fruit."

"Nice." Draco smiled. "I'll just go and get dressed, then."

"Oh don't bother on my account," Harry teased, getting some of his own back for the boxer short incident yesterday. "Why don't you just take it off entirely?"

Draco, perhaps predictably, gave Harry the same finger salute and sashayed off to dress. When he returned they enjoyed lunch, talking and laughing comfortably with each other and Harry could see that all was forgiven.

After lunch, Harry agreed to go with Draco back to the shop for a few more hours work before they needed to prepare for the evening party. Neville had requested that he be allowed to hold his twenty-fifth in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Headmistress McGonagall had agreed on the proviso that they only use the Great Hall and the accompanying bathrooms and restrooms and didn't spread out over the rest of the school.

Harry thought it a terrific idea. Not that he'd have had his there; he preferred quieter functions and truth be told he thought Neville did, too, but Hannah and Ginny had conspired together with Neville's Gran and nothing could stop them from inviting practically the whole of their year, along with everyone Neville had ever known, it seemed, as Neville confided to Harry one day.

It was always wonderful going back to Hogwarts. The battle scars of the final battle had faded, but not the memories of the tragedies. Harry didn't mind reliving those; he'd long grown past feeling responsible for the deaths, but he did feel responsible for paying tribute to their sacrifice. So, whenever he was at Hogwarts he took a minute to relive the whole thing again, so he would never forget what some people gave so that they could defeat Voldemort.

By six-thirty both Harry and Draco were ready. Or Harry was ready; Draco was still looking for something to wear.

Draco admired the cut of Harry's Muggle suit and appreciated how well it sat across his shoulders and his backside, and Harry playfully whacked him on the arse and told him to go and dress, at which point Draco frowned and said he'd rather not go.

"Why not?" Harry asked.

"My one good set of robes didn't cope with the move all that well and with all the excitement of the shop and stuff I forgot to take it to be pressed. If you had some House-elves..." The accusation was there, but it wasn't heartfelt. Draco didn't really expect Harry to take it seriously. Harry just rolled his eyes and grabbed Draco's wrist, dragging him into his bedroom.

He threw open the closet door and said, "Here, take your pick."

"Harry, I really don't think your choices in clothing would suit me," Draco started, and then spotted a dark emerald green shirt on the rack. "Oh, now that's nice. I have some black trousers that would go well with that," he said moving towards it and lifting it from the rack.

"Well there's a jacket and trousers that go with that," Harry said, digging in further along the rack to find them.

"Since when do you know so much about clothes, anyway? I only ever see you in jeans and shirts or wizards robes. And at school your clothes were dreadful."

"After the war, Fleur took me in hand and made sure I knew how to dress properly for all the useless official Ministry functions I had to attend," Harry said. "So these are probably couple of years old now and maybe a bit outdated but I only wore them once. You're welcome to them if you want."

"Well, I'll just borrow them for tonight if they fit. Thank you." Draco was smiling as he went off to dress and within ten minutes he was back, straightening the lapel of the jacket and ensuring his hair was perfect, in Harry's full-length mirror.

"You look ...smashing." Harry grinned.

"I do rather, don't I?" Draco smirked back. The classic style of the outfit suited Draco well and he knew how to wear clothes, Harry had to give him that.

"Yeah. What is it with you and looking like you just stepped out of a fashion magazine?"

"Breeding, Potter, good breeding. I keep telling you that." Draco turned and gave Harry the once over. "You'll do," he said. "Let's go then."

***

The party was in full swing when they arrived. Draco had insisted they arrive later than the prescribed six pm or they'd be standing around with nothing to do until everyone else turned up. Neville greeted them at the door, accompanied by a very heavily pregnant Hannah, who looked radiant even so.

"Happy Birthday, Neville," Draco said, handing him a parcel, elegantly wrapped in gold paper. Harry repeated the same sentiments and handed Neville his gift. Neville beamed and thanked them, placing both gifts on a table laden with them.

"Harry, Draco! Nice to see you both. We don't usually see you two turning up together," Hannah said, her greeting both a hello and an unasked question.

"Hannah, you look beautiful," Harry replied, and Draco echoed him. "Draco and I live together now," Harry said smiling, knowing that he was deliberately giving her the wrong idea. "As flat mates," he added when he saw her beaming and about to congratulate them.

"Damn," she cursed. "Thought you two had finally got your act together and... got your act together." She laughed.

Harry saw Draco blushing slightly and he rested his hand on the small of Draco's back. "I think I should sit for a while," Hannah continued. "Neville told me about your good fortune, Draco. He was over the moon when he heard that he was going to have you producing his potion."

Draco smiled and held her arm, leading her over to a chair and ensuring that she sat down. "I'm really grateful for the opportunity, actually." He looked towards Neville who was hovering over his wife. "Thanks, Neville," he smiled.

"As I told Harry, Draco, you were always my first choice. I'm just so relieved that we have a Potions master of your calibre on the team now. It will do so much for the reputation of the potion."

Harry sat down in a chair beside Hannah. "How are you anyway, love? You look about ready to have this baby."

Hannah placed both hands on her stomach. "I am, Harry, I am. I still have a few weeks to go, but the sooner this is over the better. I am never being this pregnant in the summer time again."

A waiter passed by with drinks and Harry took one. Hannah asked for water and Neville and Draco pulled up chairs and sat with them.

"Well," Harry said, "I can't wait to see this little baby. I think you're the first of our year to have children." He beamed. "It's like the signal that the new generation is starting. One that will be so much more peaceful than ours."

"Hear, hear!" Draco said, raising his glass in a toast before drinking.

"Actually, Harry, we'd like to ask you something," Neville said, clearing his throat and looking a little nervous.

"Anything, Neville," he replied, curious.

Neville placed on hand over Hannah's and looked at her, smiling fondly. She nodded at him and he turned back to Harry.

"Hannah and I would like you to consider being our child's godfather."

Harry's mouth dropped open. He could feel Draco clapping him on the back and smiling. "Me?" he squeaked. "I'd be honoured, Neville, Hannah. Thank you." He put out his hand and shook Neville's, then leant in and kissed Hannah on the cheek. "Thank you both."

If he'd not been so surprised by being asked he would have had time to think it through logically. He couldn't be anyone's godfather! He wasn't going to be around to watch the child grow up. Why had he said yes? He couldn't very well go back on his word now, could he? And what excuse would he use anyway? Everyone had always known of Harry's love of family and he would never knowingly turn away something like this.

"No, you'd be doing us the honour, Harry," Neville said. "We've asked Ginny to be the godmother, and she was happy to help us out as well."

Well, at least the child would have one godparent.

After chatting for a few more minutes, more guests appeared and Neville and Hannah left to greet them, leaving Draco and Harry alone.

"Well, shall we go and mingle?" Draco asked, looking slightly askance at the assembled crowd. "Or should we tease a few more people and dance together," he said, giving Harry a sultry look.

"Leave off." Harry laughed. "You want to be front page news in tomorrow's Prophet?"

"Ooh, what for," asked a female voice from behind them. Harry turned and saw it was Pansy. He grinned and figured he'd let Draco explain that one.

"Pansy, love, come and rescue me from this lecherous man," Draco exclaimed.

"Draco, don't be ridiculous! If Potter here is a letch, then there's no hope for the rest of us ever having sex again," Pansy replied, looking devastated.

"What?" Harry spluttered, amused. "I resemble that remark."

Draco and Pansy were both laughing now. "Come on Harry, I'm joking, but you do have to admit that your sex life has been in a bit of a slump for the last...for ever really, hasn't it?" Pansy smirked.

"It's not been that long," Harry huffed, knowing that it really had. Like two years long.

"It has, too, Potter, and if the Chosen One can't even get laid once in a while, what hope do the rest of us have?"

"Now, now Pans, Harry had a very enticing offer of just that, this very morning in fact, but in a hopeless, typically oblivious Gryffindor style opened his mouth and the moment was gone," Draco drawled.

Harry looked aghast between them, not knowing whether to join in the joke at his expense of to storm off in a huff. After a moment, watching how amused Draco and Pansy were at the look on his face, he chose the middle ground and lifted his chin in the air. "I see Hermione over there, I shall go and speak to her and see if I can get some intelligent conversation," he said and walked away with as much dignity as he could muster, leaving their giggles behind him. He deserved that, he knew he did and he didn't mind really, Draco and Pansy were close from school and he probably told her lots of things.

Hermione stood and almost ran to him when she spotted him, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "Oh, Harry, thank you so much for the books."

"Hermione, you already thanked me for them," he said, a little perplexed.

"Yes, but I thought you were giving them to the library. I received the paperwork from your lawyer about giving me ownership of them." She smiled. "It's such a wonderful thing to do, I'm so grateful."

Harry smiled, pleased as punch to see Hermione so happy. "Oh, you know they would have just been sitting mouldering in the vault. You deserve them, Hermione. If anyone does, you do. You'll treat them properly and with the care they deserve and preserve them for the next generation."

"I'll look after them, I promise. I'm actually going to set up a reading museum for the library. There are spells I can use to protect the books but still allow people to read them. We can't lose access to all that knowledge and the special stasis spells need a stable environment, so we're going to section off a wing and dedicate it to the older tomes and rare works."

Harry was always impressed with Hermione's knowledge of all things book-ish and even though she did tend to rabbit on about it from time to time, Harry loved it and wouldn't have her any other way. He nodded and listened carefully; convinced he'd done the right thing in bequeathing ownership of the books to her.

"Well, that sounds great, Hermione, tell me if you need anything in the way of help to protect the books," he said.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I think we're right with all that, but do you mind if I announce that the books are now part of the collection?"

"They're your books, Hermione, you can do what you like with them," Harry replied.

"But...people know that you inherited Professor Dumbledore's estate and so you'll be in the press again," she said. "Does that bother you?"

"Not so much," Harry admitted. Whilst he'd like nothing better than to be ignored by the press, now especially, he'd grown used to it, pushed it to the background of his life. He glanced over at Draco, taking a deep breath as he watched him chatting easily with Pansy and Blaise, now, and looking stunning. Besides, if he got his way there'd be more scandalous news concerning his private life that they'd report on, so a story about him contributing to the public library was nothing.

Hermione caught his glance and with a hand on his arm directed his attention back to her. "So, is there something you should be telling me?" she asked with a coy look on her face.

"What? About what?" Harry stalled.

"I saw that look you gave him and Blaise told me he'd been asked to leave his flat and had moved in with you. He changed his mind, then?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he's thinking about it though."

"Did you want to reinstate the bet? Although..."

"No." Harry hastened to reassure her. "Only, if it does work, I will accept that public apology from you," he said, smiling cheekily.

"Alright," she replied. "Are you sure you know what you're doing? Putting your friendship at risk like this?"

Harry sighed. "Hermione, we're going to be putting our friendship at risk if we don't try." He had no wish to speak about the sexual tension that seemed to simmer between them and the fact that it felt like they just couldn't keep their eyes, or hands for that matter, off each other.

"As long as you know what you're doing,"she said.

"Do any of us really know?" Harry said rhetorically.

"So, tell me what else you've been up to." Hermione smiled and changed the subject.

He sat and told her about the arrangement he had with Draco and the shop, which made her beam proudly at him. It made him feel rather good about himself that Hermione approved. He asked where Ron was, to be told that he was on a case and would be a little late finishing up paperwork. They were still chatting about that when Pansy dropped into the seat beside Harry.

"Potter, you must make Draco buy something like that suit. He looks positively divine in it," she said, nodding to where Draco was standing and talking with Madam Pomfrey and a couple of the other Professors.

"He does look drop dead gorgeous in it," Hermione admitted, blushing. "And I'll deny that if either of you mention it to Ron."

"My lips are sealed." Pansy smiled.

"I offered it to him tonight, but you know what he's like, he wouldn't accept it," Harry added.

"Well, get him one for Christmas or something. He's much more confident when he's dressed like he's used to dressing. Appearances mean a lot and Draco's whole life was about how one presented oneself. He misses the confidence that being better dressed than most people, gives him."

To be honest, Harry had never really noticed the difference. Draco had always seemed ultra confident around him - but then perhaps these days he felt he had nothing to prove to Harry and didn't feel the need to impress him, whereas he would still be feeling the need to impress people in order to obtain jobs. Pansy had a point then; Draco did need the accompanying clothing in order to make the right impression upon other companies that might want him to produce their potions.

"I'll see what I can do," he said, thoughtfully. "Perhaps I can just refuse to wear them again now that he has."

"You do that," Pansy replied, grinning slyly. "And while you're at it, if you have any spare cash floating around, I'm on a charity drive for the school."

"Oh? What do you need?"

"Just about everything," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "The funding the Ministry allocated after the war for the orphanage has basically dried up. They're assuming that most of the children will have either been adopted now or grown up and out of the control of the orphanage. They seem to forget that there are new children being made orphans all the time," Pansy said, frowning. "They've basically told us that they'll feed and house the children but their schooling will have to be funded through private donations."

"They make me so angry," Hermione said. "How short sighted can they be to treat education so lightly or as unnecessary? Don't they realise that they're only creating problems for themselves in the future?"

"Exactly, Granger," Pansy agreed. "Having a group of uneducated rabble populating the back streets of Diagon Alley has proved so profitable in the past to Dark wizards. How can they not see that?"

"Let me know what you need, Pansy. I still have Professor Dumbledore's estate that I haven't decided what to do with yet. I can at least pay for the children you have now to be educated."

Both Hermione and Pansy looked at him open-mouthed.

"What?" he said.

"Just like that?" Pansy asked in disbelief?

"Why not?" he replied. "Look, I was an orphan too. I have no idea who paid for my education at Hogwarts, but it wasn't me. Who knows what might have happened to me had I not been given a Hogwarts education." He looked at them both closely. "And Professor Dumbledore spent his life putting the education of witches and wizards before anything, even when he was asked to become the Minister for Magic, so it's only fitting his money be spent on ensuring those orphans at least receive an education that will give them some skills to earn a living and take their place as productive members of our society."

And after that long speech he felt like adding 'So there!' at the end, because they were both looking at him in shock. Hermione was the first to break the spell, with a little squeak before she threw herself into his arms.

"Oh, Harry, that's wonderful. I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore would be so proud of you. You're right, education was his life and he'd be so pleased that some other children are being helped by his money."

"Hold off, Hermione," Harry said, fondly. "I've been looking for something to do with all his money. If I'd known that the Ministry were going to pull that nasty trick on the orphanage, then I'd have sent them money before now.

"Well done, Potter," Pansy said, still in awe. "I'll get our legal team to contact yours Monday morning with an idea of what we need. Will that suit you?"

Harry nodded. "It's the least I can do," he said.

After chatting for a while longer, Pansy rose and excused herself. Before she left, she turned to Harry.

"I'm going to tell that fool Draco that if he doesn't snap you up, then he deserves to lose you, Potter."

Harry blushed. "Don't. We're happy being friends. That's a big thing to risk."

"Be that as it may, he'd still be a fool not to want more. You're a good man, Harry Potter," she said smiling. Then she bent down and kissed his cheek before leaving to join some other friends.

"Told you," Hermione whispered beside him, smug.

Ron arrived a little later, Ginny and Blaise glided past and made sure that he was coming to the charity game in a few weeks, which he made sure to point out to them that Draco was going to as well, and Susan Bones sat on his knee and attempted to take his tonsils out with her tongue.

Which was distasteful to say the least, not only because Susan was a girl, but also because she'd been snacking on the various tid bits that were on platters on each of the tables. Something that had garlic or onion in them.

By the time he pushed her off him, he was ready to gag and he saw, with no slight amusement, that Draco was furious.

"Sorry, Harry, but I've always wanted to do that," she said, slurring her words slightly, making it obvious she'd been drinking.

"Erm, all right, just please don't do it again," he said, straightening his tie.

That set the scene for more women to try to kiss him. It took all his cunning and a couple of subtle 'notice me not' charms to evade them all. Which was mortifying because he was at Neville's party and he was gay for God's sake! A friendly peck on the cheek was all well and good and he accepted those, but after the second girl who promised just a peck on the cheek and had then promptly gripped his face and snogged him on the lips instead, he refused any more kisses.

And with three hundred people in attendance, he refused a lot. And not only women. Of course, he knew that none of them wanted him. After the first couple of times, when it was clear that they just wanted to snog Harry Potter, the rest just thought it fun to see Harry squirm and try and dodge them. It became a game after a while. Who could catch Harry Potter and snog him?

Inevitably, Draco caught him and Harry just as inevitably gave up kisses for him, which prompted a fresh round of rumours not so easy to squash because of the way they were dancing together. These kisses heralded a new closeness to their relationship and there was a hint of possessiveness in the way Draco's teeth nipped at Harry's bottom lip and in the hand sliding up his back while they danced. Harry could quite happily have stood there all night swapping tender kisses that made his heart sing, but they were not alone, people were watching, and they were just friends despite how things might look. Reluctantly, Harry stopped the kisses, as apart from being very public, part of him also felt it was unfair of Draco to tease him like this. If he didn't want more than friends, why was he demanding kisses like a lover?

"Pansy told me what you did for her, Harry," Draco whispered as they danced closely.

"I didn't do anything," he said, nuzzling his nose into Draco's ear.

"Hmm, but you did. You made it possible for her to stay in her job." Draco's arm slid up around Harry's neck.

"I did?" Harry asked, clueless.

"Yes, she would have had to leave the preschool they set up in the orphanage when the funding ran out. They didn't think that their private donations would be enough to cover nursery as well as primary school, let alone Hogwarts. So, Pansy would have been the first to go. Now she doesn't have to." The words were whispered into Harry's neck and he felt the warm breath that flowed over his skin, right down to his toes.

"She would have found another job," Harry said, tightening his arm around Draco's waist as they swayed to the music, close and warm against each other's body.

"She would have been devastated to leave Jasmine," Draco said. "For some reason she's developed a strong attachment to that little miss. I think they are long lost sisters to tell the truth." Harry knew he smiled because he could feel it against the skin of his neck."

'Jasmine? Harry said, hoarsely.

"Hmm, six year old orphan. She and Pansy have become very close. Pansy would adopt her but the Ministry decreed in their wisdom that single mothers do not provide an appropriate environment in which to be bringing up a child. Isn't that the worst load of codswallop you've ever heard?"

"That's hardly fair," Harry agreed. "Pansy's not likely to get married any time soon is she? What happened to Ewan?"

"Dumped when he proved to like Pansy's charges more than he liked her."

"Oh, that's disgusting!" Harry exclaimed.

"Nothing happened and he went minus a few fingers that Pansy hexed off with a clever little hex that rejects any attempts to grow them back."

"Good for her," Harry asserted.

Draco moved like a dream in his arms. Harry was never a great dancer at the best of times but having Draco in his arms made him feel like he was dancing on air. Strange how every time they were together these days, the meetings became that much more intense. Was it because Harry was trying to win Draco over and get him to share his life and bed for the next year or was he really developing strong feelings for him?

"Speaking of Pansy, she informs me that I must insist that you keep that suit because you look entirely fuckable in it," Harry said, grinning because Pansy hadn't said that, but it was true nonetheless. "Even Hermione said you looked drop dead gorgeous."

Draco pulled back and looked up into Harry's face. "And you, what do you think?" His voice was husky and Harry had to clear his throat in case he squeaked his answer.

"I already said you looked stunning and that you should keep the suit. It looks better on you than it ever did on me." He managed to sound normal which pleased him.

Draco melted back into Harry's arms again. "Alright, just so that none of you are deprived of seeing how fucking shaggable I am."

"I think we already knew that, git," Harry said, fondly. He dropped his cheek onto Draco's head as it rested against his chest and they continued dancing in silence for a long time.

They were still dancing when the music stopped and Neville moved to the front of the orchestra and cast Sonorus. It was obviously time for that part of the evening and so they stopped dancing, but Harry hung onto Draco's hand for a time.

"I just wanted to thank you all for coming. If I'd known that my wife had invited so many people, I might not have come," Neville said, his customary blush at being the center of attention still visible after all these years, even though the awkward stuttering youth was well gone.

After the amused chuckles died away, Neville went on to thank his lovely Hannah and friend Ginny for assisting with the preparations for the party. He thanked Headmistress McGonagall for the use of Hogwarts. And lastly he thanked everyone for the gifts and hoped they had a wonderful evening.

A huge cake was bought out then by a horde of House-elves and placed on a large table. It had twenty-five candles on it, lit and sparkling away while everyone sang Happy Birthday to Neville and Neville looked on pleased as punch. He blew all the candles out in one shot and then turned to Hannah and gave her the most adoring, loving look, took her in his arms and hugged her.

Harry watched with a faint longing.

There was a gentle pressure, a squeeze of his hand and he looked at Draco, who was looking pensive and very thoughtful. "I think I'll go home, now, Harry," he said, quietly.

"I'll come with you if you like, just hang on while I say goodbye," he said and turned to go and say his farewells. Draco's hand on his arm stopped him.

"No, you stay here and have fun, I - I need to be on my own for a bit."

"You all right?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, I just have some thinking to do. I'll see you in the morning."

"All right, then," Harry said. "See you later."

He watched as Draco made the rounds and said goodbye to all his friends. He was under no illusions; Draco was thinking about taking their friendship to the next stage. For a moment he wondered if he'd been a little unfair dancing so closely and being so tactile, but then Draco hadn't protested; had in fact, welcomed the contact. Harry sighed; there was nothing he could do about making Draco's decision for him; he'd just have to wait.

Ron tapped him on the shoulder and broke his contemplation. "Is he all right?"

"Yeah, I think so," Harry replied. "How'd you pull up Friday morning?"

Ron shrugged and grimaced a little. "Bit like a herd of hippogriffs doing a tap dance in my head," he said. "But once Hermione finished her lecture and gave me a hangover potion, I was fine. Could have gone to work, even. Mind you I didn't surface until almost dinner time, so it would have been entirely pointless," he finished, laughing.

"You were lucky. I was woken by Blondie banging on the door about ten," Harry laughed back. "He did the honourable thing and gave me a potion and, to be honest he did have a good reason for the ungodly hour, so I forgave him."

"Yeah, Hermione said that he'd moved in."

"Yeah," Harry replied. "He's in the spare room," he added, as if he needed to justify himself.

"Not for long if you have your way, though, I'm told," Ron said, noncommittally.

"Well, we've danced around it long enough don't you think?"

Ron shrugged. "Not my call, mate. If it's what you want then go for it."

"You don't approve though, do you?"

"It's not a matter of approving or not. I just think that it took all of us so long to get over the antagonism from our school years to be friends that you should think about it before changing things again."

"He might make me happy, Ron," Harry said quietly. "And it's not something I'd enter into lightly."

Ron looked at him, doubtfully. "I know there have always been sparks flying between you two, right from back in first year, but isn't all this for the bet you have with Hermione? I'd call that jumping in without thinking."

"Well, no it's not actually," Harry said, huffily. "It has nothing to do with the bet if you must know. We cancelled the bet, which obviously no one bothered to mention to you. This is something I want for me. For once I'm not thinking of everyone else. I'm thinking of me and if there is a chance that he'll make me happy and an even smaller chance that he wants me, then I'm not going to knock it back. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and speak to Neville for a bit before I go home. I'll see you later."

Harry left then because if he hadn't there was a huge risk that he would let something slip. He'd calm down and apologise to Ron tomorrow but just at the moment he was annoyed that Ron always jumped to conclusions and could never see right what was in his face. Damn him.

He spoke to Neville for a few minutes then headed to the bathroom. As he exited the bathroom when he was finished, he accidentally overheard part of a conversation between Ron and Hermione. The position he was in, behind a pillar near the door to the bathroom, meant that he would be interrupting their conversation and the last thing he wanted was to speak to Ron again tonight. So, he was stuck there, listening.

"...that you'd cancelled the bet." Ron spoke in a low tone.

Hermione answered just as quietly. "What did you think when he turned up with the books?"

"I don't know! But I just accused him of not thinking about the group by jumping into a fling or whatever, with Malfoy!"

"You didn't?"

Ron must have nodded, then.

"Oh, Ron, what on earth does the group have to do with Harry and Draco?"

"I just thought that if they were only together because of the bet then when they broke up it would change things and we wouldn't be the same any more."

"How selfish can you be, Ron?"

"I just wanted him to think of us," Ron protested.

"Why? Why should he? He already takes care of all of us. You know he does. Look what he's done for me, for Draco and for Pansy tonight!"

"What's he done for Pansy?"

"Pledged the orphanage a heap of Dumbeldore's money to make sure those kids get an education. Pansy asked and he said yes, just like that."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. Do you know what he's done for Draco?"

"I know he's moved in w-"

"And he's lent him money to start up his own lab. Bought a shop and is renting it to him free for six months. He lined up two big customers for him - the Ministry for Neville's new potion for one, Madam Pomfrey for the other."

There was silence for a while, and while Harry couldn't see them, he knew that Ron was looking down at his feet, which was something he always did when he was ashamed of himself. It was time he ducked back into the bathroom and then made a big noise about coming back out.

By the time he'd done that Ron and Hermione had moved away and he stood by the pillar for a while just thinking about what he'd heard. There was nothing inherently wrong with what he'd heard and he'd half expected that selfish aspect of Ron's to be the reason he was against him and Draco getting together. It was more the way Hermione had made him sound like some bloody saviour. Again. He had no interest in being seen as anything like that. Perhaps it was time to attempt to be a bit more anonymous. He already had a couple of things to do on Monday, neither of which he could hide indefinitely.

He caught a hold of Neville and thanked him for the party.

"It's been brilliant, Nev, thanks for inviting me," Harry said, shaking Neville's hand.

"Thanks for coming Harry and I have to say the gift of that book was incredible. I have no idea where you found it, but I really appreciate it."

"No problem." Harry smiled. "I'll let you in on a secret. It was right here, up in Trelawney's rooms. I have no idea how she ended up with it but seeing as the school inherited all her belongings when she died, Professor McGonagall let me buy it and there you have it."

Neville laughed. "Who'd have thought that she would have had such a treasure?"

"She was a surprise all around that one," Harry agreed. "Anyway, I'm off. You enjoy your night and make sure you let me know as soon as Hannah goes in to have the baby. Being godfather, I want to be involved as soon as possible after the birth. After family, of course," he added.

"Sure, Harry. You're family, too, mate." Neville grinned.

Harry said goodbye and left, taking the Floo directly home.

Three hours later, he was woken by Draco.

"Harry, wake up. Neville's firecalling. Hannah's gone into labour!"

"What?" he mumbled, barely even conscious.

"Hannah has gone to St. Mungo's to have the baby. You're going to be a godfather. Get your lazy arse up and get to the hospital."

Harry jumped out of bed, wide awake now. He was going to be a godfather? Holy shit! He pulled Draco into a fierce hug.

"I'm going to be a godfather!"

"I know, I know," Draco said, tiredly. "You go to the hospital and I'll just stay here and sleep in your bed," he said, yawning. "I'll meet you there later."

"Whatever," Harry replied, not really listening. He threw on some clothes and ran to the fire.