Under the New Moon

Chapter 4

Two Households

Draco lay on the grass by the lake, propping himself up on his elbows and reading over his Charms essay. A light breeze ruffled his hair, shattering his already weakening resolve to finish the essay. It was the first day of October and the fall was deliberately making it difficult to concentrate on schoolwork when it was being so warm and colourful like that.

Draco rolled over onto his back and stared up at the tree almost above him watching the sun filtering through the red leaves. He breathed deeply, enjoying the fresh scent autumn in Scotland brought with it. Winter had a tendency to come quickly when beautiful autumns tried to linger. Draco loved winter, to the eternal astonishment of his friends, but there was no denying the feeling that all was right with the universe when gazing up into a glowing, fiery canopy.

Footsteps crunched in the leaves behind him and soon Pansy's face stared down at him. "Wotcher, Draco."

"Aren't you shopping with the girls in Hogsmeade today?" he asked her.

"They're having lunch," she told him, sitting down next to him. "I wanted to tell you I saw your boys earlier today."

"My boys?"

"Those boys you and Potter seduced in Hogsmeade two weeks ago," Pansy said smirking. "I just saw them enter The Hog's Head together holding hands. It looks like that absurd little endeavour of yours paid off."

Draco had to smirk, too. It was painfully obvious that Rosemerta's two assistants fancied each other; if a guy is looking at someone other than Rosemerta while in that pub, that must be a sign of true love. Her two assistants seemed to still be in the closet so he and Harry had ... well, seduced would be a bit of an exaggeration, but they certainly flirted well enough to get the guys to meet them in the pub's toilets. Harry and Draco, of course, never showed up, but they hoped it would have been enough to inspire something to happen between the two of them.

"Did they look happy?" he inquired.

She nodded. "Simon and Frederick were holding hands and almost cooing at each other."

"Simon and Frederick?" Draco asked in disbelief. "Is that what their names were? How is it that you seem to know everything about everyone?"

Pansy shrugged casually. "I just do. Besides, why do you care?" she asked. "You get all your information from me so you can go around pretending that you know things."

Draco had to admit that. "So what do I need to know today?"

"Millicent and Blaise had another fight..." she said after considering.

"No one died I presume?"

"No," she told him, "but that serpent table lamp was smashed."

"Against what?"

"The wall, but only because Blaise was expecting it and ducked."

Draco rolled his eyes. "If either of them were on our Quidditch team, we'd have Gryffindor for sure. But no," he continued disdainfully, "they prefer to smash up our common room instead."

"You still want to beat Potter?" she teased him.

Draco hesitated. "Yes I want to beat him. Nothing has changed there."

Draco and Harry had decided early on that they should tell their close friends about their relationship, but keep it quiet to the rest of the world for now. If wasn't that they were ashamed of their relationship but there might be unforeseen advantages to keeping it a secret. Draco had told Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Harry had told Hermione, from the sound of things, but was still debating about the Weasel.

"Of course not, Draco."

He stuck out his tongue at her. "Sod off, Pan," he said affectionately. "What else should I know?"

"If you're still snogging that Gryffindor, you should know that Weasley junior has managed to master that stick of hers," Pansy said.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Must you make everything sound like that?"

"Sound like what?" she said and hopped to her feet and winked at him. "Really, Draco, if you can't get your mind out of the gutter when discussing a poor girl injured in the war, I don't know how you're ever going to fit back into normal society again. I mean - a cupboard!"

Draco spluttered. Pansy ignored him.

"See you later, Draco."

Draco glared at her, then began glaring at the leaves above him. It wasn't her fault he was upset, but one was a little sensitive after living in a cupboard for a year. Not that he was in a cupboard the whole time, he corrected himself. When Snape felt it was safe, Draco could sleep on his couch. When Snape felt things were overly unsafe, Draco would run two kilometres through the forest near Spinner's End and sleep on a rock ledge with an overhang for mild protection. He couldn't complain though; living like that was far better than dying at the hands of an evil wizard who wanted revenge on his father.

More crunching of leaves caught his attention, but this time Harry's face looked down on him. "Wotcher Draco."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Can I guy not get any peace today?" he asked, pretending to sound exasperated. "How on earth did you find me?"

Harry sat down next to him, utterly ignoring Draco's attitude and pulling out his guitar. "Parkinson told me where you were a few minutes ago."

Draco finally sat up, his homework forgotten. "You're not going to Hogsmeade today?" he asked, trying to sulk.

"There's nothing to do there," Harry said casually, still ignoring Draco's pout.

"So you came to bother me?"

Harry started strumming his guitar. "Oh why does he pretend?" he started to sing. "He tries to make me bend ... my sympathy I'll not lend..."

Draco snorted as Harry tried to cram too many syllables into one line.

"Of my song this is the end." Prolonged chords.

Draco couldn't help but laugh. He had to admit Harry had a decent voice, and Draco had no idea why Ron and Hermione would run whenever he picked up a guitar because his playing was good, but Harry grinned at him so crazily when he finished the song, he had to crack a smile.

"Does this mean you'll stop sulking?" Harry asked him.

Draco rolled his eyes with a smile. "Yes," he conceded, "I'll stop."

Harry smiled and put the guitar. "You have a leaf in your hair," he said, reaching over and brushing it away. Harry ran his fingers through his hair and removed his hand.

Draco tried not to shiver at the contact. It still made his stomach twist in funny ways whenever Harry touched him. After the night on the balcony, Draco had been floating whenever he thought of Harry. Harry. He had been obsessed with him ever since his trial in June. He was so bewildered that Harry would come to defend him that he had consumed his thoughts trying to figure out why Harry had come.

After the incident with Hermione and Pansy, Draco needed some time to figure out what had just happened. He and Harry had made a truce and the world exploded to him. After that day by the lake, Draco wanted to spend as much time as possible with Harry; he fascinated him now.

By the time school had started Draco knew there was a problem. His ineffable obsession had taken a new turn and he suddenly had feelings for Harry. Harry had saved his life, after all; what wasn't there to like about him?

Oh and Harry was also completely crazy. Draco liked that. It made him feel not so different.

"So what was I interrupting when I came here, Draco?"

Draco liked when Harry said his name; he dragged the first syllable of his name out just a fraction longer than others. He liked it even more than he enjoyed saying Harry's name.

"I was doing some Charms homework, but I got distracted," he admitted. "I was thinking about living with Professor Snape last year."

"Trying to make me jealous?" Harry joked.

Draco frowned. "No. Never mind."

Harry obviously realised Draco was trying to have a serious conversation and turned fully around to sit in front of him, facing him. "No, go on," he said gently. "What happened at Snape's?"

Draco exhaled deeply. He hadn't told Harry exactly what had happened before Voldemort's downfall. "Snape hid me from the Dark Lord after I didn't kill Dumbledore," he explained. Draco couldn't bring himself to say that he "couldn't" have killed Dumbledore. Nobody would have wanted him to, of course, but he didn't want to sound weak in front of Harry. He knew it was stupid, because Harry knew what he would have done, but he refused to say it out loud.

Harry took his cue and didn't try to make eye contact. Draco saw his watching him play with a blade of grass.

"I guess I was just lonely there," he continued, splitting the blade of grass down the middle. "Professor Snape was always out and I had to sleep in a cupboard during the night in case a Death Eater would come by for him. On the rare occasion he was home, I would get to sleep on the couch, but I often had to leave in the middle of the night and sleep in the woods because a Death Eater would show up. Now Pansy thinks I'm crazy or something because she thinks that much isolation will make someone unbalanced."

Draco chanced a glance at Harry to see what his reaction was, but Harry was smiling.

"Oh, no," he said when he saw Draco frowning at him. "I wasn't smiling at your situation or anything."

"No," Draco said casually. "Whatever. It's a little weird, I know."

"No, Draco," Harry murmured. "It's not like that. It's just that I was raised in a cupboard, too, so I thought it was funny Pansy was calling you unbalanced. I'm sorry. I really wasn't making fun of you."

Harry reached over and took his hand which Harry then began to rub with the other one.

Draco tried to savour the feeling of warmth in his hand. "You lived in a cupboard?" Draco asked after a pause.

"That's where I had to sleep at my aunt and uncle's until I was ten," Harry told him, still gently rubbing his hand. "They only gave me a bedroom when they thought some wizards would come after them."

Draco didn't know what to say. "That's disgusting," he said at last.

Harry winked at him. "Yes, but at least I got to become happily unbalanced."

Draco managed a grin. It was good to know Harry could understand how he was feeling, even if he didn't say it. He never knew he slept in a cupboard. Maybe if he knew Harry hadn't always lived a wonderful life Draco wouldn't have resented him so much throughout their first six years.

Draco always thought Harry had everything. He wasn't sure anymore.

Harry waved his hand in front of Draco's face. "Don't let Parkinson tell you evil things," he said wisely. "There is nothing wrong with being unbalanced."

Draco watched with interest as Harry pulled out a small bag of chocolate frogs and shook his head when he was offered one.

"Is there anything you eat besides those things, Harry?" he asked as Harry let two skip across the grass.

"I ate breakfast with you at Parkinson's that day."

Draco narrowed his eyes but Harry didn't notice. "Aside from that day."

"Red fruit and cheese, but mostly chocolate frogs."

There was absolutely nothing wrong with being unbalanced. Draco began to feel a little uneasy.

The guitar was out again and someone was singing. "Chocolate frogs! Oh chocolate FROGS! Oh chocolate FRAAAAAAAGS!"

No, nothing wrong.

***

It was early November when Harry showed signs of something being wrong with him.

Draco had just come up from the dungeons and saw Harry in the entrance hall when it happened.

A loud noise seemed to echo around the entrance hall.

"Harry!" Draco demanded. "Did you just fart?"

Harry shrugged. "It's been happening all morning. I don't know what's wrong."

"What's wrong?" Draco almost shouted. "What's wrong is that your complete disregard for public decency has now compelled me to use the word 'fart' out loud. Have you no shame?"

Harry blinked at him.

"All right," Draco said slowly, "there has got to be something we can do for you." Pondering, he walked in two small circles before coming up with an idea. "You can hide out in the forbidden forest until you're empty."

"But it's cold," Harry whined.

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Surely there is something you could do about that?" he said slowly, giving him a meaningful look.

Harry laughed. "Like you'd want to be kept warmed that way?" he asked.

Draco was appalled. "Join you for a little jaunt that involves using your own flatulent to keep warm?" He scoffed. "I think not."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Come on, Draco. You mean to tell me that after-"

Draco waited. "Yes?"

Harry's eyes suddenly went wide and he bent double. Draco looked around. "Harry, someone's going to think I've hit you now will you stand up?"

He shook his head desperately. "I can't..." he wheezed. "Stomach ... hurts."

Draco glanced around, then grabbed Harry by the arm and began marching him down the hall. Harry made no protests. When they reached the boys' toilets, Draco kicked open a stall, shoved Harry inside with some care, and closed the door behind him.

"Thanks," said a weak voice behind the door.

"Don't mention it."

Draco was now preoccupied with searching for something to do. Clearly he couldn't leave Harry alone lest he require serious medical attention, but neither was Draco one for hanging around in a room containing several toilets.

He found leaning on the sink by the far wall and having soft conversations with himself in the mirror was a fair distraction.

That distraction, though, however fair, was by no means enough to keep certain noises from penetrating Draco's concentration.

The next half hour was one of complete and utter, uncomfortable horror.

Surely The Boy Who Lived could not make such noises clearly fit for the deepest torture chambers in hell.

Draco found it was awkward making eye contact with himself during Harry's song, so he turned away, sitting on the edge of the sink and staring at the ceiling. He vowed that he would watch Harry's eating habits more closely after this if it was the last thing he did.

There was a sound of a flute being tuned and then an ominous twang.

Merlin's multicoloured beard, that one definitely wasn't normal. Unbalanced being the key concept here, perhaps.

Draco grimaced.

Harry emerged after what felt like an eternity. "I ... needed to get that out," he offered, his voice now hoarse.

Draco stared, opened mouthed. "I could see that," he finally said. No, his voice couldn't have been that high.

Harry washed his hands and leaned against the sink next to Draco.

"This was it, right?" Harry asked.

"I really hope so."

"No," Harry said, trying to meet his eye. "Where I hit you with that curse."

Draco stiffened. He had forgotten this was the room in which Harry had almost killed him. "Yes," he said, still not meeting Harry's eye.

"You have no idea how scared I was when you ... ripped open like that."

He felt Harry's eyes on him. Draco shuddered, remembering, almost missing the hitch in Harry's voice. "Yeah," was all he could say.

Harry was suddenly in front of him, staring at his neck intently. "Draco, what-"

Then Harry's hands were on his chest and shoulders, pulling his collar down. Draco stared at him almost defiantly, watching the horror as it dawned on Harry's face.

Harry began to undo the buttons of Draco's shirt, one by one, his eyes growing darker as he did so. Draco tried to appear unconcerned, but he could only fight the shiver trying to get out of his body for so much longer. Finally Harry had his shirt open and was staring at his chest, his lips slightly apart.

"Draco, I had no idea," he said in a whisper. "I thought Snape healed you."

"He healed my face first, making sure it was fine before moving on," Draco told him, carefully watching Harry's expression. "He took too long on my face before he started elsewhere."

Harry tilted his head and ran two fingers down the long, white scar that stretched from above Draco's left collar bone down to his right hip: the last of the Sectumsempra curse.

Harry let his hand slide around Draco's waist when he got to the bottom and gently pulled him towards him. Harry leaned in and kissed the top of the thin scar on Draco's neck and the shiver finally fought it's way out.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured into his chest, still slowly kissing the scar down his chest.

Draco tried to speak but found he could not. Harry's lips were too soft not to be distracting. He inhaled deeply as Harry continued kissing him.

"I'm so sorry, Draco," Harry said again.

Draco nodded, then suddenly realised this was not the time to do anything of the sort Draco had wanted to do since Harry kissed him. He straightened up and grabbed Harry's hand. "We're going for lunch," he announced.

Harry tried to resist but was rewarded with a hard tug.

"No, Potter, this is not the time," Draco said sternly. "After that lovely, but disturbing serenade, your diet of chocolate frogs is over. We're going to Hogsmeade where I am going to buy you some real food, and where you are going to eat it."

Harry laughed and allowed himself to be dragged out of the toilets.

Draco smiled to himself; Harry was starting on the long path to healthy eating. But he could still feel the moisture of Harry's kiss on his neck.

He supposed "balanced" was a relative concept.

***

Hermione made her way down to breakfast alone that morning. She was carrying her Potions notebook and trying to get in one last reread before their test after breakfast.

She saw Ron and Harry sitting at the table and went to join them, glancing at the two vaguely as she sat down.

"Morning," she said, still immersed in the book.

"Haven't you been studying enough the last two weeks, Hermione?" an incredulous Ron asked her.

"I just want to be sure," she said, only half hearing what he said. "Snape keeps saying we learned nothing under Slughorn and is piling on the work."

Ron scowled. "You'd think that his new face would have made him happier, but it seems like it's done the opposite."

"Ron!" said Hermione in a scandalised voice. "Professor Snape was badly injured by that curse and he's lucky to be alive. How would you like it if you needed reconstructive surgury after getting hit by a curse?"

"If it made me go from how Snape used to look to..." He gestured at the high table where Snape was eating for once.

Lupin, not realising Snape was fighting on their side in the final battle had hit Snape with a corriding curse in the face. As a result, Snape required to have a form of plastic surgury to make his appearence something that resembles a person. However, the healers did not quite restore his original looks. He looked very similar, but his nose wasn't quite so prominent, and his jawline was a little more masculine, his cheekbones just that much higher. In a bizarre twist of fate, Snape had become Good Looking.

"In any case, he's still assigning difficult assignments and even harder tests, so I need to study for this," Hermine said from behind her book.

Then Harry's voice drifted through her concentration. "Can you pass the toast, Hermione?" it said.

Hermione glanced up to move the plate, when she processed what he said. "What?" she asked sharply.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Draco says I need to be eating more brown bread," he admitted.

Hermione was speechless.

Ron, however, turned to face Harry. "You'll do what Malfoy says but not what we tell you?"

Harry blushed. "Well ... there was kind of an incident."

Now Hermione was intrigued. "What kind of incident?"

Harry was now concentrating very fixedly on his cereal. Cereal!

"Let's just say that Draco was left ... erm ... possibly traumatized. I think I owed it to him after that."

They stared at him.

"I can't eat anymore chocolate frogs," he continued, mumbling almost unintelligibly now. "He's cast a charm on me and if I eat any frogs, I will ... well, actually, he never said what would happen."

Ron laughed. "Harry, mate, Malfoy didn't cast any spell, look-" he said, pulling out a chocolate frog. "Eat this and I bet you 10 Galleons that nothing happens to you."

Harry looked pained. Hermione saw him cast a nervous glance over at the Slytherin table. She saw Draco watching them and when Harry made eye contact, Draco glared at him with wide eyes and slowly drew a finger across his throat.

Harry turned back and shook his head quickly. Then he picked up a satsuma and began to peel it. Hermione beamed.

"Hermione?"

Hermione turned and saw Ginny slowly making her way down the Gryffindor table. She jumped up and guided Ginny over to where they were sitting and helped her onto the bench.

"Who's here?" Ginny asked.

"Me, Ron and Harry," she told her.

"Hey," said Harry and Ron in unison.

Ginny smiled in their general direction. "Morning."

Hermione saw Harry piling some food on a plate a setting it down in front of Ginny. "Here, Gin," he said softly. Hermione caught a pained look in his eye. "Fruit and toast."

"Thanks Harry," she said, finding a fork.

They watched her silently.

"I know you're watching me," she said with a sigh.

They all quickly looked away.

"No we weren't," Ron mumbled, quickly taking a gulp of his pumpkin juice and choking on it.

Harry hit him on the back. "I'll be right back," Harry said and left their table.

Hermione watched him go, not sure what to make of anything anymore.

***

Harry had been trying to reasonably avoid Ginny since school started. They had a conversation in the hospital after her unsuccessful surgery where everything was discussed, but since then, neither of them had initiated conversation.

Harry felt guilty. He knew he shouldn't. It's not like the Death Eaters had gone after her because of him; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were a strong part of the order and a threat to Voldemort, but he felt responsible for her nonetheless. He felt like he had somehow brought her into the war; he had brought the war to her.

Of course, Harry felt a twinge of guilt whenever he heard of someone who had been injured or killed in the war.

When Ginny joined them that morning, he felt a surge of guilt at how slowly she moved down the aisle. Hermione had jumped up to help her, of course. They all helped Ginny whenever they could. Harry quickly handed her some food.

Ginny Weasley would always be exceptionally pretty; gay or not, Harry could see that. She had her hair pulled back into a high ponytail this morning and her electric blue glasses brought out the red in her hair and made her look ... 'cool' would describe it, 'stunning' also.

Harry had seen her only once without the mirrored glasses since it happened. That day in the hospital was the only day. Her two glass eyes stared hopelessly ahead. They had tried to match the eyes as closely as possibly to her bright brown eyes, but Harry noticed, with a hitch in his breath, that the fire in her eyes had been extinguished.

He had never seen Ginny cry since that day. The tears rolled silently down her face as he told her he needed to do his own thing now, and they couldn't be together. Since that day, Harry hadn't seen the slightest bit of weakness from the Gryffindor - only a prevailing listlessness.

Harry had to give her credit for her fashion sense, though. According to Ron, she had chosen the colour of her glasses very specifically and had asked the opinion of no less than 12 witches and three wizards before deciding on that pair. Hermione had mentioned one yawn-filled morning that she had spent half the night with Ginny organizing her clothes and putting each colour and style in a separate drawer. Apparently Lavender and Parvati had to be called in after a debate on what constituted a casual set of dress robes. Harry imagined he and Ron shared the same expression after this was explained.

Today she looked just as beautiful as she always did, but when Harry saw his expression reflected back in her glasses, he knew he couldn't stay with them anymore.

"I'll be right back," he said after thumping a choking Ron on the back.

Harry left the great hall in a rush, just wanting to get away from Ginny. He couldn't stand to see her like this.

"Harry?" came a tentative voice from behind him.

He turned around to see Draco standing behind him.

"Hey Draco," he said lightly.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked him.

Harry forced a small laugh. "Nothing. I was just going to go get some of my things before class."

Draco appeared unconvinced. "It's her, isn't it?" he asked quietly.

Harry hesitated. Draco knew he and Ginny dated. "Yeah," he said nodding, "but not like that. She's just unhappy and ... Ginny's my friend. I obviously don't want to see her like this."

Draco's reaction was one Harry hadn't expected. "Well ... have you thought about helping her?" he said as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course, Draco," Harry said impatiently. "We all help her get around and stuff..."

Draco was waving his hand looking exasperated. "No, I mean like trying to restore her vision or something," he said sharply.

Harry blinked. He hadn't thought of that. "No," he finally said, "the healers at St. Mungo's tried everything. She can't get her sight back."

"What if there's another way to help her get around?" Draco paused, looking thoughtful. "Bats use sound to see things. Maybe Weasley could try that."

"Draco..." Harry didn't know where to begin. "First of all, no. Absolutely no. Ginny's not a bat. I feel there's something wrong with this whole conversation if I have to make that clear. Secondly, no. No. Just ... no."

"Fine," Draco said harshly, turning around to go back to the breakfast. "I won't try to help your little friends anymore then. Have fun helping Weasley get dressed in the morning. I bet it's the highlight of all the Gryffindors' day when she comes wandering out forgetting she's not wearing robes."

Harry didn't mean to, but his wand was out and he was pointing it at Draco before he knew what he was doing. His mouth was open when Harry was hit with another spell.

"Petrificus Totalus!" came a voice from behind him.

Harry hit the floor and stared miserably at the ceiling, knowing he had lost.

Professor Lupin came into view looking angry and Draco, looking curious.

"Were you going to curse me Potter?" he asked, tilting his head to one side.

Harry couldn't nod, so he blinked wrathfully.

"10 points from Gryffindor, I think," Lupin said.

"Harry!" Sirius shouted, suddenly bounding into view and nearly stepping on him. Sirius peered down at him. "Did Malfoy hit you with the spell?" he demanded.

Draco's eyes snapped up to Sirius. "Actually," he said with some frostiness, "Potter here was trying to hit me with the spell. If Professor Lupin hadn't come along, I don't know what would have happened."

Harry's mind nearly exploded when Draco reached over him and stroked Lupin tenderly on the arm.

"Thank you, Professor."

If Harry could have done a double-take, he would have when Sirius's upper lip curled in what was unmistakable jealousy.

Lupin looked surprised and took an inconspicuous step back. "Yes, Malfoy."

"Potter!"

A new voice rang through the hall and Snape's face suddenly joined Draco's, Lupin's and Sirius's. Harry wished he could sink through the floor. Snape was looking at him, Lupin was looking at Snape, Sirius was looking at Lupin, Draco was smirking, and Harry rather thought that day in the toilets with Draco was less humiliating than this.

"Hello Professor Snape," Draco said pleasantly.

Snape faltered and nodded at Draco before turning his glance back to Harry. "What are you doing on the floor, Potter?"

"Malfoy cursed him, Snivellus," Sirius snarled.

"Actually, I hit him with the spell," Lupin said and was utterly ignored.

"Maybe Potter just likes the hardness of the floor," Draco said conversationally.

"Hi Harry!" Colin Creevey called, walking past.

Harry could feel the spell slowly wearing off. He could now wiggle his fingers.

"Don't just lie there wiggling like and idiot, Potter," Snape spat. "If you're late for my class, there will be detention."

"He can't help it, Professor, Harry likes wiggling," Draco offered.

This caused all the teachers to glance over at Draco. Harry was relieved that they were no longer peering down at him.

"Harry?" Snape asked with contempt.

"Wiggling?" Sirius asked with equal contempt.

Draco burst into a fit of cackling.

"Harry, why are you lying on the floor?" Ron asked, suddenly in Harry's field of vision.

"Couldn't see where you were going?" Ginny asked from behind him and accidentally hit him with her stick.

"Oh for heaven's sake. Finite!" Hermione's voice said loudly.

Harry got to his feet and glared at them all. "I hate everyone and everything," he said coldly and ran off.

"Now he's going to get into the frogs, Granger!" he heard Draco accuse behind him.

***

Harry rounded the second corner when Draco caught up with him.

"You know I wasn't being serious about Weasley," he said, jogging to keep up with Harry.

Harry kept running, not caring if Draco wouldn't leave.

"I'm going to look for something that can help her, since you seem to be so upset about her condition. I can't have you trying to hex me every time I make a joke, you know," he said, his breath coming out ragged now.

Harry glanced over at him. "You're really going to try to help her?" he asked, still running.

"Yeah."

Harry could only smile at him.

Draco then smirked at him. "Thought you should also know," he continued, still keeping pace with Harry, "that my plan to set up dog and wolf begins next week."

"Sirius isn't gay," Harry insisted. "And even if he was, your seducing methods probably aren't what he's looking for anyway."

"Oh no, Harry, keep up," Draco said, waving a hand at him as they raced past a group of Ravenclaws. "I have a new tactic now."

"Do you?"

"Oh yes. It's brilliant. It's not - Well. Love is a powerful thing, Harry," he said determinedly, his hand going to his left forearm. "It can make us do all sorts of ridiculous things. But love, however powerful, will always come second to fear."

And with that, Draco whirled around and continued running in the opposite direction.

"Wha-" Harry began, but didn't get much further. The wall saw to that when he collided with it.

***

Pansy was surprised to find Draco in her room when she returned to the Slytherin common room. He was perched on the edge of her bed and flipping through a book.

"Can I help you?" she asked dryly.

Draco glanced up, said "No," and returned to flipping through the pages.

Pansy marched over to him and not so gently removed the book from is hands.

"Hey!" he protested.

"Love Potions and their side effects?" she asked in amusement. "Can't find a date for this weekend? I thought I saw Potter with a bruise on his head. You two didn't fight, did you?"

Draco sulked. "Dont be ridiculous, Pansy, Potter and I didn't fight, he just ran into a wall. I'm trying to do research on my latest project," he told her with contempt.

"Your latest project?" she repeated flatly. "Draco, shouldn't you be out doing something useful? I just had to break up a fight between a first year Slytherin and some Gryffindor."

"You think I should be protecting the corridors?" he asked, sounding amused. "We couldn't call this Hogwarts if a few fights didn't erupt every now and then."

"God, Draco, I would think that after you became friends with one of them that you would see the benefits of trying to keep peace between Slytherin and Gryffindor this year!" Pansy raged at him. She was irritated with him and didn't care that her shouting was unprovoked. "Why don't you ever want to help people?"

Draco's eye narrowed. "Not that it's any of your business," he informed her coldly, "but I have just decided to help the female Weasel with that issue of only having four ways to behold the world. I think that constitutes as helping people."

Pansy was taken aback. She had noticed that Draco was more inclined to doing deeds of good rather than of wicked lately, but she never thought it would occur to him to start helping the blind. She sighed and joined him on her bed, relieving the tension in the room. "I'll never get you, Draco," she said lightly, handing him back the book.

He smiled at her from under the hair that had fallen into his eyes. "You wouldn't want to," he told her, his eyes dancing. "Where would the allure be if I was understood by the masses?"

She tilted her head and viewed him curiously. "Do you let Potter get you, Draco?"

Draco's smile faltered. "Harry does what he wants," he said, returning his attention to the book.

Pansy paused, not sure what to make of this veiled confession. "I thought you two were good to each other now."

Draco nodded vaguely, still immersed in the book. "Yeah, we're good."

"Draco!" Pansy prodded, set on getting information out of him.

He shut the book with a snap. "Well that's pants," he declared. "Love potions are simply out of the question."

"What's wrong with you and Potter?" she demanded.

He exhaled and looked irritated which Pansy had figured was his way of dealing with uneasy situations. "Nothing's wrong," he said. "We're fine. We see each other all the time and we get along well."

"But...?" Pansy coaxed. There had to be an easier way to get information from men.

Draco exhaled again, but didn't look as uptight. "But it's not like I thought it would be."

Pansy frowned.

"He doesn't seem very interested in me," Draco admitted with apparent difficulty. "He seems reserved, like he doesn't want to get too attached. We'll joke and have a great time, but he always seems like it doesn't matter to him if our ... thing fails."

"Have you talked to him about it?" Pansy asked evenly.

Draco gave a half smile and shook his head. "There's nothing to say. I can't very well go up to him and say 'I want to know what I mean to you' because we haven't been together that long and ... I don't know what he'll say. No," he said firmly. "It's ridiculous. We're fine. I'd just rather he was more open with me, you know?"

Pansy nodded. "I know."

Draco nodded and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Pansy watched him. She knew what Draco was going through, and surprisingly, found sympathy for him. It wasn't easy to want someone who didn't want you. It wasn't easy knowing the one you love will never match your feelings...

"You don't love him, do you, Draco?" Pansy asked as the thought suddenly burst into her thoughts.

Draco turned his head on the pillow and smirked at her. "Really, Pansy. Love Potter?" He let out a laugh like tinkling crystal and then turned his gaze upwards again.

Pansy relaxed.

"I'd have to know him better for that."

Pansy screamed inwardly in frustration. She wanted so much for Draco to be happy, and here was Harry Potter jerking him around without even realising it, she thought. It was a risky venture allowing Harry and Draco to be together, and she knew that. She decided to see about Harry as soon as possible.

"Have you had sex yet?" she asked him.

Draco laughed again, but it was harsher than before. "Sometimes," he began, "I wonder if he's gay at all. Anything physical always seems so forced with us, and completely awkward. Well, usually, anyway; our first kiss went very well, and there was this time in the toilets - but, no, not a lot is happening there - and God, I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Can we get out of here?"

Pansy laughed. "Sure, Draco, but don't worry about it. Mercury is moving out of Capricorn next week and things should be ideal for moving forward."

He blinked at her.

"Your ruling planet?" she told him. "Mercury? Remember? I explained it all when we started Divination."

More blinking. "Five years ago?" he asked, sounding far away.

"Come on, let's go shopping," she said with a sigh.

Draco perked up. "You're taking me shopping?"

Why did she do this to her savings? "Yes, Draco, and I'll buy you something pretty."

He almost cooed. "I think I want a muff," he said with a far-off twinkle in his eye. "They're so fashionable and oh-so-warm!"

"Sometimes, Draco," Pansy said with a raised eyebrow, "you can be so gay."

***

The first weekend in December was the much talked about Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match. Harry wasn't nervous, but their new Chaser seemed to jump at every noise at the table that morning at breakfast.

"Chester," Harry called to the skinny fourth year. "Calm down, ok? You'll do fine."

Chester the Chaser looked at him, gave a frightened squeak and knocked over a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

Demelza gave Harry a knowing look across the table and began speaking to Chester in a low, soothing voice.

"Nervous, Harry?" Ginny asked as Ron put a plate in front of her.

"No, not really," he answered truthfully.

"Not even because you're playing Malfoy?" Ron asked.

Hermione made a small noise beside him but didn't comment.

"No," Harry answered. "We haven't talked about it, but I don't see how our friendship would change anything."

Ron looked relieved. "Glad to hear it, Harry. We're going to wipe the pitch with Slytherin today."

***

Outside, Harry gave his team a quick speech of encouragement.

"Are there any questions?" he asked when he was finished.

"Is Chester dead?" Ron asked.

The team looked over to where Chester was huddled under a cloak, not moving and not making any sound.

"Chester?" Harry asked.

A muffled squeak.

"You have to get up now."

A fainter squeak.

Demelza stepped forward with a determined look. "Chester Bruno, if you don't get up and play for us now I swear on Gryffindor's grave that I will beat you within an inch of your life! Furthermore, once I am finished, I will take you to Ginny Weasley and have you explain to her why her replacement let us down and is now dripping blood at her feet."

Chester yelped and threw off the cloak. He picked up his broom and got as far away from Demelza as he could.

Demelza looked satisfied and gave Harry a nod.

"Right then," he said, and led the way out onto the pitch.

The opposing teams lined up across from each other. Harry searched out Draco automatically.

"Captains shake hands!" called Madam Hooch in a voice that could wake the dead.

Harry stepped forward and gripped Malcolm Baddock's hand. "Where's Malfoy," he demanded.

Baddock shrugged. "Didn't want to play, I guess," he replied with a nasty smile.

The whistle blew and both teams shot into the air. Harry tried to push the thought of Draco out of his mind and concentrate on finding the snitch, but he couldn't quite. Why didn't Draco show up? They had talked about playing against each other on Thursday. Draco seemed confident.

Or had he? Maybe Harry didn't notice that Draco's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Or that his laugh was half a second too late to be real. Maybe he didn't notice more of the world than he thought.

"And Slytherin leads 40 to 20," called the Slytherin announcer Harry didn't recognise.

He looked around for the snitch, flying past the Slytherin stands. There, in the back row, sat Draco between Millicent Bulstrode and Blaise Zabini looking mutinous.

"Another goal for Slytherin!"

"Oh sod it all," snapped Harry and circled the pitch another time. Then, there, between two of Gryffindor's goal posts, fluttered the snitch. He took off after it. The snitch put up a chase, but it didn't get further down the pitch than the halfway line before Harry's fingers closed around it.

"Gryffindor win 200 to 60," said the announcer halfheartedly.

"Nice catch, Harry!" Ron said, landing smoothly next to Harry. "Where are you going?"

Harry was walking quickly back towards the castle to where he saw Draco take off.

"Harry?" Hermione called behind him. The wind distorted her voice and made it more shrill.

He turned. "I have to go find Draco," he told her.

"The Slytherins kicked him off the team," she said in a high voice. Harry thought she looked close to tears but the wind blew her hair over her face. "I - I heard some of the Slytherins talking in Arithmancy about it. They hate him. They think he's a traitor."

"Because he wouldn't kill Dumbledore?" Harry roared, furious. "Just because all their parents are in Azkaban-"

"Because he let the Death Eaters into the school, Harry!" she said. "Most of the Slytherins weren't on Voldemort's side. They didn't want war. But they all suffered from the war and they blame Draco for Dumbledore's death. Some of them said that Voldemort wouldn't have gotten far at all if Dumbledore hadn't died."

Harry was speechless.

"Draco doesn't have many friends left in Slytherin, Harry," she continued. "Ted Nott asked to be transferred to another room rather than share with Draco. He's only friends with Pan - Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle now."

"How do you know all this?" he asked.

"Harry, open your eyes. Can't you see all this for yourself?"

Harry hesitated. "I have to go." He cleared his throat. "I have to go find Draco now."

Hermione nodded, looking miserable.

***

Using his map, Harry found Draco in the kitchens.

"Hey," he said when he reached the kitchens.

"Would Harry Potter like something to eat?" asked Dobby enthusiastically, trying to push some scones into his hands.

"Er ... tea, I think. And could you get some for Draco as well, Dobby?"

"Mister Malfoy only asks for chocolate," Dobby informed him. "He only asks for chocolate when his father punishes him, but Dobby knows Lucius Malfoy is in Azkaban, so Dobby doesn't know what is going--"

"God, do you ever stop talking?" Draco snapped from one of the tables. He was scowling.

Dobby drew himself up to his full height. "Dobby does not take orders from the Malfoys anymore," he told him haughtily.

"It wasn't an order," Draco muttered.

Harry sat down across from Draco. "Hermione said they kicked you off the team," he said quietly.

Draco let out a harsh laugh. "Is that what she heard?" He ate another piece of swiss chocolate. "Yes, you could say that."

Harry waited.

"They broke my fucking broom," he spat. "I walked into the shed on the first day of practice and found my broom broken into pieces. Then there were new warnings put up that the school brooms may react badly to anyone with a dark mark."

"But you don't have a--"

"I got their point," he snapped. "No one cares if you have a dark mark or not. Snape has one, but no one goes after him. They think he's a bloody hero."

"Well, he did--"

"Yeah, I know. And I know I let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and hid like a coward for the rest of the war, but it doesn't mean I have to like the result." Draco poked miserably at a slice of chocolate cake with his fork.

Harry sighed and moved around the other side of the table to sit next to Draco. Harry, by now, had learned that he was completely unable to say anything comforting in times of distress so he tentatively put his hand on Draco's back and hoped for the best.

Draco seemed to relax fractionally, so Harry thought it might be helping.

"Does the chocolate help?" he asked.

"No," muttered Draco darkly.

"It always did for me," Harry said conversationally. "But now that you've got me off of frogs I've been trying to find other things that ... help."

"What have you discovered?" Draco asked, relaxing a little more into Harry's touch.

"Truthfully? That nothing is as good as chocolate."

"Nothing?" Draco said turning around. He looked carefully amused.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "No, nothing," he said slowly. "Though it's always good to have people around. You know - friends, and such..."

"And such?"

"Yeah," Harry continued. "Like people who you like to do things with that ... distract you from ... bad things."

"Really," said Draco, enraptured.

"Really," Harry said with determination. "Here let me show you what I mean." He lifted a smirking Draco bodily up onto the table and kneeled on the bench in front of him. Slowly, he leaned in and kissed the side of Draco's neck. He kissed slowly up his neck and along his jaw line towards his lips.

Right before he reached them, he paused. "Distracted yet?" he asked teasingly.

"Almost," Draco said and pulled Harry down on top of him and kissed him hungrily.

Scandalised house elves ran for cover, but the boys seemed not to notice.

Eventually they broke briefly apart to catch their breath. Draco licked Harry's ear and Harry grinned down at him. "Like it?" he asked.

"What do you know," Draco said playfully, "there is something better than chocolate."

"Not chocolate frogs?" Harry said, not sure whether or not to be shocked.

Draco laughed and silenced him with another kiss.