I Drove All Night

~* I Drove All Night *~

by: Princess Cora

Part 1 - What in this world keeps us from falling apart?

When Remus had first given Harry his mother's car, it had been almost too painful to look at. He could see the Marauders, older than his fifth-year image of them, younger than the adults in pictures, sitting in their traditional seats. Lily, as Remus laughingly had told him, would be sitting behind the wheel, red hair flying, music turned up, for the car was her territory. James always sat right next to her, Sirius right behind him, and everyone else squeezed in the other two seats somehow. Lily's little red convertible was a Muggle car, so fitting more than three people in the back was no picnic. "Ha ha, we had great times..." Remus had said remembering those days. It had been sitting in Remus's garage, completely useless, until Harry's sixth year, when someone decided that Harry should learn to drive. But memories had stained his enjoyment of the beautiful car, right up until three months ago, when Harry finally got his full license after turning nineteen. The difference was the night - for somehow an empty highway, a cool breeze, and a sweet melody served to take his mind off the pain of loss and remember the happy times.

There was a lot of loss in Harry Potter's life. First - his parents. Though he had been too young to remember more than a flash of green light, the absence of a mother and a father that had set the stage for Harry's life so far, stung him every single day. Secondly, there was Sirius. The first (and only) real father figure he had known had died when Harry was only fifteen. The memory and the guilt of that death still weighed upon his shoulders. In destroying Voldemort Harry had avenged his parents, but no matter what anyone said, Sirius's death was partly his fault.

The third death was the worst. Even if Sirius had been the closest thing to a father to Harry, ever since that pivotal fifth year, Dumbledore had been more than that. He was a friend, a confidant, a grandfather, and the one who always had the answers. Though Harry retained no lingering guilt over Dumbledore's heroic demise - it had even been necessary, for it gave Harry the opening he needed to destroy Voldemort once and for all - the emptiness of Hogwarts without Professor Dumbledore, the confusion, the loss... those would be with him for a long time yet.

And then...

The last month and a half of Harry's final year at Hogwarts had been a hollow shell of memories, mingled with the relief of the Dark Lord's defeat. However, Harry could not stop thinking about all the sacrifices made in the name of Voldemort, with a burning hatred that was barely justified by killing him. Harry was in pieces - and if it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy, Harry might never have put himself together.

Draco had suffered losses too - a mother, a father, an entire mindset. Draco had grown up believing that he was the center of the universe, that a Malfoy Is Always Right, that evil is The Way To Be...

It had been love. They'd never said it, but something that deep, that emotional (as well as physical)...went beyond simple attraction. Draco had been a friend, a companion, and someone who would ease Harry's pain with his own, as Harry would ease Draco's. But the Ministry of Magic was not as forgiving. They believed in the old adage, "The apple never falls far from the tree," and had put the young Malfoy on their growing Wanted list.

So Draco had disappeared. Completely. He graduated from Hogwarts, said his normal "graduation goodbyes" to the small group of friends that accepted him, told them that he had been admitted into the Unseen University, and disappeared. No one had seen or heard anything about him aside from the Wanted posters and the like. He was now the only "spawn of evil" that the Aurors had not caught yet.

Harry usually tried to push Draco to the back of his mind, but every now and then loneliness would rear it's ugly head and send a tremor of loss and desire through his body. Draco should have been there when Harry, Ron, and Hermione bought a cottage outside Devon. He should have been there when Harry finally got his license. He should have been there on all those nighttime drives down empty highways. He should have woken up next to Harry every morning for a year now. He should be sitting right next to Harry at the breakfast table...

"Harry? Harry? Are you in there?" the kitchen suddenly swam into focus. Hermione was waving a hand in front of his face.

Harry shook his head and picked up his fork again. "Yeah, yeah, I'm all right."

Hermione smiled and finished putting her coat on. "Good. Well... See you all this evening!" Hermione was studying at the Unseen University - a very selective worldwide wizarding college. She and Draco were the only two students that had been accepted from Hogwarts this year. She gave Harry a little hug around the shoulders and Ron a quick goodbye kiss.

"Harry... get some sleep, all right?" She and Ron exchanged a Look before she swept out of the door and was gone.

*~*~*~*

Hermione checked her watch as she walked to the train station, debating whether she had time to check in with Ginny before her first class. The question was answered for her as Ginny's barn owl came swooping down over her, in a Muggle street, in broad daylight. The owl dropped a note on her head and took off.

She opened the square of parchment carefully.

Herm~

I think we found him.

~Gin

Hermione stuffed the paper into her pocket and quickly changed her direction to Ginny and Luna's flat. When she got there, Ginny didn't waste time in greetings. "I just got word - it's definitely him."

For the past year, while the Aurors had been searching for Draco, a group of loyal friends had conducted the real search for the elusive Draco Malfoy. Ever since Ginny's graduation, she had taken over the project, and in the past four months they'd come closer to finding him than in the entire year before. Ginny kept things running in a tight system - only she knew everyone who was involved, though there must have been a few Aurors because the Ministry was always following false leads.

Hermione, with pure force of will, calmed her heart rate back to a normal level. "Where is he?"

"It was as we had suspected. He was here in Britain the whole time, living under a well-protected glamour. Your research was put to good use!"

Hermione smiled. Her part of the operation was researching - what Draco could be doing to disguise or hide himself, and any way of finding him in spite of the protections. Those long hours of studying were finally paying off!

Ginny handed her a folded paper. "You know the deal - memorize and burn." Hermione nodded, reading. "Oh and one more thing - do we tell Harry?"

Hermione looked up, an incredulous expression on her face. "Why wouldn't we!?"

Ginny looked slightly uncomfortable. "Well... it's just that the Aurors are getting harder and harder to sidetrack, and...if Harry gets wind of this, he might do something... stupid. The last thing we want is someone to find out that he's been hiding here under our noses!"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Ginny, I did this for Harry. It wasn't that I wanted Draco to be safe, and though it is a concern, he can take care of himself. But Harry... Harry loves him. He fell to pieces after Dumbledore died, and there was nothing Ron or I could do. And here comes Draco, as broken as Harry, and somehow they put each other together. They grew together, and when Draco disappeared, it was like his other half had gone. Draco is the ONLY thing that can make Harry happy again. And you ask me not to tell him... No!"

Ginny bit her lip, then hugged Hermione. "All right. You win. I'm just..."

"Worried, I know." Hermione smiled and checked her watch. "I can probably go home and be back without missing more than half of Charms..."

Ginny shook her head. "No, you go on to class. I'll tell him."

"You sure that's ok?"

She smiled. "I started this, it seems right that I should finish it."

"Are you kidding? This is just the beginning."

*~*~*~*

The room was a mess. Clothes were scattered all over the thin blue carpeted floor, some looking like they'd been there for weeks. There was dust collecting in the corners, and a spider had begun to make a web in the one small window. There were papers everywhere, spilling off the cluttered desk and overflowing the wastebasket. The bed in the center of the room was missing a bottom sheet, which was crumpled at the foot of the bed.

A thin, black-haired woman lay sprawled over the tangled white top sheet. She groaned and rolled off the bed, hitting the floor with a satisfactory thump. As she struggled to her feet, she caught sight of her haggard form in the wall mirror. Another groan escaped her lips. She was as messy as the room - skin pale and pasty, dark circles under her eyes, black hair wildly tangled, and far, far too thin... She vaguely wondered when she'd eaten last... must have been more than a few days ago...

She staggered the few steps to the rickety bedside table, breathing heavily. She sorted clumsily through the items piled there, knocking more than a few to the floor. Luckily, the piles of clothes cushioned the fragile objects.

She found what she was searching for - a small clay bottle on a leather string. She studied it for a second, her traitorous eyes blurring the lines, making it nearly impossible to see the rose design on the terra cotta. After it finally came into focus enough to determine the pattern, she smashed it against the wall, so hard that the little bottle shattered. Suddenly the woman shuddered, twisted, and turned into Draco Malfoy.

"I hate that glamour," he muttered under his breath.

In his true form, he looked a little less ill, but the difference was slight. He was still thin and gaunt from lack of food and delirious with pain and loss and hunger. His blonde hair was thin and wispy, but had grown a little longer in his year away from reality. His gray eyes had lost that luster of ice. They had become pools of gray fog - wondering, watching, waiting.

He flopped back down on the bed - or rather, his legs gave out and he fell sideways. He tried to get his eyes to focus on the many cracks in the dirty white ceiling, but they swam and wavered and blurred. Then everything began to swirl, and he closed his eyes and surrendered to the darkness.

*~*~*~*

"Ron, where's Harry?" Ginny asked. Ron pointed silently to the door to the backyard, not looking up from his writing. "Thanks!" Ginny pushed open the door and walked out into the small, flowery backyard. Harry was sitting on the garden swing, looking down at the ground and pushing himself a little with his toes.

"Harry? It's Ginny." Harry turned his head up, looking confused for a second, then breaking into a smile.

"Hey, Gin. What's new?"

Ginny took a seat next to him. "Well... a lot, actually." She went quiet again.

He looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing's wrong, exactly... Harry... we found Draco."

The change was instantaneous. His eyes narrowed, every nerve in his body seemed alert and alive, and he was suddenly very interested in catching every single word Ginny said. "Who-" his voice cracked, he swallowed and tried again. "The Ministry?"

Ginny shook her head. "No. They still think he's in America. A small group of friends have been searching for him, and heading off the Aurors - and just this morning I got his exact address. No one has done anything yet..." she trailed off, for though Harry was looking straight at her, his mind was elsewhere.

"Where is he?" For all his predatory attitude, his voice was soft and gentle.

Ginny handed over a slip of paper. "Everything has to be kept secret - memorize and burn."

Harry nodded. He read through the parchment several times, then stuck it in his pocket. "Thanks for the information, Gin."

She gave him a Look. "Aren't you going to... I dunno... go running off to drag him home?"

Harry shrugged. His face had glossed over, looking impassive and disinterested. "No. He obviously doesn't want to be found." His voice, like his face, was flat and emotionless.

Ginny blinked a few times, then changed the subject. If Harry doesn't want to talk about it anymore, that is fine with me.

*~*~*~*

"He didn't say anything?"

"Not really. He just sat there and said, 'he obviously doesn't want to be found,' like everything was perfectly all right."

Hermione sighed. We go through all this trouble to find Draco, and now Harry doesn't do anything about it! "Well, he does have a lot to be bitter about."

"True... but STILL! They're so cute, they shouldn't be allowed to be apart any longer than necessary!"

Hermione laughed. "You just like them because they're gay!"

"Well, yeah... BUT THEY'RE SO CUTE!!!"

Hermione shook her head, smiling, though she privately agreed with Ginny. "I'll try to talk to him when I get home, how's that?" Hermione stood up from the little table, pulling on her coat and picking up her bag. "Thanks for the meal, Ginny."

She shrugged. "Luna's out of town, I had no one else to eat with." The redhead grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes to the sky. "Why are all my friends gay?!"

"I'm not gay, I'm bi."

"Close enough. You're dating a woman; you're lesbian in my mind."

"Well... Ron's not gay."

"He's also more than a friend..." They both laughed.

"See you later, Herm."

"You too, Gin. Say hi to Luna for me."

"I will."

"Bye."

"Bye."

*~*~*~*

It had started as a small flame - a little flicker of heat. And yet, its effect had been like striking a match in the midst of complete darkness. He had spent the past year repressing his feelings, until it felt almost like he was looking at the world through a sheet of thick glass - but at least it wasn't painful to breathe. And now there was a spark of something, and it took him almost half an hour to classify it as anger. And the fire inside had grown, and grown, until every inch of his body was burning with the bonfire of perfect fury.

Now.

Harry's lips curled into a little sadistic smile. He had been sitting in the dark garage ever since Ginny had left, letting the anger build up inside him like a geyser ready to explode.

Now.

He leapt onto his feet and found the garage door opener on the wall in the dark. His hand knew instinctively where it was, after three months of nighttime rides.

Now.

The door slowly lifted, letting in a widening strip of crimson light.

Now.

He reached into the convertible and pulled out his leather riding jacket, slipping it on over a red t-shirt. He settled in behind the wheel and revved her up, feeling the hum of the engine under him match his burning fury. The garage door was fully open by now, and the fiery light of the setting sun filled the inside of the garage. It would be nighttime in half an hour - how fitting.

Now.

He stepped on the accelerator.

*~*~*~*

Part 2 - The fever for you is just burning me up inside

This time he had a mission. A goal. Though the chilly night wind took the edge off his anger, it was still simmering beneath the surface, like boiling water under a sheet of ice. Harry's thoughts were racing down his own mental highway, asking questions, throwing curses, and wondering, wondering, WONDERING what would happen when he finally got there.

He was still seeing the long, straight road ahead through a thin veil of scarlet, though the sun had been down for an hour. Other emotions had begun to seep in around the anger, and though he was trying not to think of the happy times, it was hard to think of Draco without thinking of the long nights spent fulfilling their boundless desires...

And the rain began to fall.

*~*~*~*

There was a fiery sort of blur as Draco opened his eyes, hours later. It sorted itself out into a few candles and a big empty blackness. No, not quite empty... As Draco turned his head to the right, there was an achingly familiar figure sitting by the bed. He was wearing all black, so his green eyes stood out like glowing emeralds. "Are you... real?" Draco whispered. In his sick delirium, visions of Harry Potter were frequent visitors.

Harry smiled. "Yes. I've finally found you. Will you come home with me?"

Draco frowned a little. "How can I believe you?"

The green-eyed man held out his hand. "Do you have faith in me?"

"Yes."

"Well, come on then. We've all been waiting for you." He dropped his hand before Draco could take it and walked over to the door. "Don't you love me?"

"Yes! Yes, I do." Draco followed him, still half in a daze. It must be him. The vision-Harry had never spoken in such a clear, normal tone, nor asked him to leave, nor been able to open the door.

The night was clear and dark, the stars were bright, and Harry was smiling. Draco noticed, as he walked along familiar streets, that while some things - Harry, the stars, the bricks on the wall next to them - stood out in crystal-clear detail; some other things were blurry, especially at the edges of his vision. The same phenomenon was happening with colors - some things were especially bright; others were in shades of gray. The two men walked along the street towards Draco's favorite bridge, Harry a few steps ahead of him. The night must have been cold, for the wind was ruffling Draco's blond hair, but everything seemed warm and comfortable. Everything will be fine, everything will be fine...

They reached the bridge, and Draco stopped for a second to look down at the river. He could hear Harry stop as well, a few feet away, though he could not see him anymore. As Draco watched, the rain began to fall on the river. He said a silent good-bye to the prettiest river in the world, and then turned back to Harry.

There was no one there.

Draco whipped around, looking out into the night, and for the first time noticed how cold it was, how bleak the night was, and how there were no stars, for the sky was clouded over as it had been all week.

It was just another hallucination. Another vision to taunt Draco in his sick delirium, making him believe that everything would be fine. It would never be fine again, not since that fateful decision Draco had made one year ago. Again Draco found himself pondering the questions that had always tortured him. Why? He knew the answer lay in his own cowardice, though he always deluded himself into thinking that he had done it to protect Harry. For all the illusions conjured by Draco's weakened state of being, he could never seem to believe that one. Perhaps that was the only thing he could still understand.

And the rain began to fall in earnest, mingling with the tears as Draco cried for the one he loved, and still did love, and would always love. The one who he would never see again.

*~*~*~*

Hermione didn't get home until after dark. She was exhausted. Her last class on Fridays was Defensive Magic, and three hours of being attacked left her kind of drained.

The house sounded quiet, even by usual standards. "Hello?" she called out, as she closed the door behind her. She came up to the sofa to find Ron asleep on it, papers covered in blue marker ink scattered everywhere. She kissed his forehead but made a point not to touch the papers. They had made an agreement - if Ron promised to clean his stuff up every now and then, she promised not to try and fix it herself.

Hermione dropped her bag and coat by the foot of the couch and stretched. She started searching for Harry, intending to talk to him before she went to sleep. "Harry? Harry...?" He wasn't in the garden, or in his room, or in the armchair to the right of the fireplace, or in any of his normal brooding places...

She finally went out into the garage. Just as she had thought - the car was gone, and Harry was out for another of his nighttime drives. She sighed and went back inside. Well, she thought, I'll just talk to him in the morning.

*~*~*~*

The inside of his car was thoroughly soaked by now, but Harry could care less. He was almost there. The red convertible was slowly turning brown as mud splashed up on the sides of the car, then was washed away, then splashed up, then was washed away, then splashed up again...

He drove over a beautiful bridge. He did not notice it, partly because of the rain and partly because he was angry. And cold. But mostly angry.

Draco's place was in a little dinky block of flats on the outskirts of the town. Harry passed by the main desk without being questioned - possibly because of their careless security, or possibly because Harry was smoldering quite beautifully and no one wanted to be at the other end of his anger. As he was about to leave the main hallway, it struck him that there would be a lot of dangerous spells on the flat itself. As he thought about it, he realized that there was a much simpler way to get inside.

He sauntered up to the desk, transforming enough of his anger into sex appeal to make the woman behind the desk swoon. While she was busy swooning, he nicked the key to number eleven (Draco's flat) and gave her a dashing smile before leaving.

Wow, that was easy, he thought. But then, not many Aurors were good-looking and gay enough to be interesting. He climbed the stairs, feeling a surge of nervousness momentarily overpower his anger. What was going to happen next? What was he going to say? Would Draco even be there?

Harry checked his watch. It was precisely 12:30 a.m. - if Draco wasn't in by now, he wouldn't be back until morning.

Harry unlocked the door and placed his hand on the knob, trying to muster the courage to open it. In the split second that he stopped actively thinking about it, his hand opened the door on it's own volition.

He was there.

*~*~*~*

Part 3 - Is that all right?

Harry's heart began to melt as he saw the too-thin figure twisted up in the sheets. But memories of the past year began to trickle into his thoughts, like the first few drops before a big rainstorm. And like that rainstorm, the memories began to come faster, and more frequently, until he couldn't tell them apart anymore, like trying to pick out a single raindrop. Then the ice over his boiling anger cracked and melted away, and he began to shout.

*~*~*~*

This awakening was different. There were screams, and whirls, and he could feel someone shaking him.

"WAKE UP DAMN YOU!!!" the person shouted.

Draco blinked his eyes and tried desperately to focus both his thoughts and his vision. He had difficulties doing both. However, a flash of emerald green turned into two angry eyes, and Draco suddenly knew who it was. "Harry?"

"No shit."

Everything else came into a little better focus. Harry had stopped shouting, he seemed to be waiting for Draco to wake up, or perhaps he was out of breath; it was hard to tell.

"Are you real?"

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"Are you real?" Draco repeated patiently.

Harry glared at him. "YES, dammit! I didn't drive all this way in the freezing rain just for you to quiz me on the state of my reality!"

"Prove it," Draco asked, though some part of him knew that this was it. The real deal. For one, Harry was wearing red, and Draco hated red. Even in his hallucinations, Harry had never worn red. It always reminded him far too much of blood. For another, he was angry, and Harry was never angry. For that matter, Draco still did not understand why Harry was angry. He was also wet - and Draco hated rain, so his visions never involved rain. That was why the most recent one had disappeared, he suspected. And finally, Draco could clearly remember being shaken awake, and no other Harry had ever been able to touch him. To wake him up, in fact... But then an explosion of lights and stars interrupted Draco's thoughts as Harry punched him in the jaw. Draco saw the room swirl, felt himself falling, and then everything went black.

Harry rushed around to the other side of the bed, where Draco had fallen. His head was cushioned against a pile of clothes. Women's clothes, I might add... Harry thought. He knelt down to see what had happened, and his breath was caught in his throat as he realized that Draco had blacked out. I didn't realize he was in such bad condition... Harry thought to himself. He pulled out his wand and did a few general healing spells: things he had picked up from being around Hermione.

Draco opened his eyes groggily, expecting the room to again be wildly out of focus, but to his surprise, it was only a second before everything became clear. Harry was squatting next to him, with his wand out. Oh, Draco thought, he must have done some healing spells or something crazy like that...

"Okay. Now that we're done with that, I'd like to ask a few questions." Harry's voice was soft and intense, his concern gone now that Draco was awake and thinking properly.

A more delirious Draco might have wondered why Harry wasn't happy to see him, but with this newfound clarity he remembered that Harry should not have been able to find him here at all. "How did you find me?" he asked.

Harry snarled. "I came here to find out why you **cking LEFT me and I end up answering your stupid questions? I think not!... WHY!?!?! WHY DID I HAVE TO SPEND THE PAST YEAR AND A HALF ALONE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!" The anger was finally beginning to dissipate, little by little, as he shouted and raved and shouted some more.

Draco kept quiet. It was the question that had haunted him ever since he had left, and after all this time of pondering and denying and thinking of whether he had been afraid or not or whatever other crazy ideas that swirled in his mind, he finally knew the answer. He had done it protect Harry, hadn't he? He wasn't afraid; he had never been afraid of love. But he had been afraid of what would happen to Harry when things got rough. Draco raised his head, meeting Harry's beautiful emerald eyes - different from the static way Draco remembered them - they were a little darker, a little more sorrowful, a little older. "Isn't it obvious?" he whispered. "I did it because I love you."

Harry was expecting anything but this to be the answer. He was expecting to have a shout-out with Draco, to come back dejectedly to his cottage, but feeling lighter, as if the conflict was finally resolved and he could move on. He was not expecting to fall back in love with this beautiful blonde Slytherin.

"I was afraid that if you stayed with me, if you knew anything about me or where I was, the Ministry would be after you too, and... I was afraid of hurting you. I wanted you to be safe. Away from harm. Voldemort took so much away from you, I didn't think you could stand another..." Draco's voice trailed away. "...another loss..." he whispered, but he suddenly realized how twisted his thinking had been.

"Another loss?" Harry asked, echoing Draco's thoughts. "All you accomplished was to give me less time with you, made me worry myself sick about whether you were all right, and want you so much that it hurt... Draco..." And, to Draco's surprise, he collapsed onto the floor next to him and pulled him into his lap, curling an arm around his waist. "Let me tell you a story. Let's see, it was in... sixth year? Yes, sixth year. Before I knew you." Harry smiled into Draco's hair. "Before Voldemort's defeat, I was in a hell of a lot of danger. After the experience in the Department of Mysteries in fifth year, I realized just how much my friends were affected by my being the object of the Dark Lord's ire. So one day, I got this notion that I would be better off without any friends. Or, rather, that my friends would be better off without me."

Draco nodded. This made sense.

"Big mistake. One of the biggest mistakes of my life. For one, I didn't tell my friends what I was doing - for the reason that they would try to talk me out of it, and would probably succeed. So those few months were the most horrible, lonely, and guilty months of my life. When they finally found out why I was ignoring them, they ran after me, knocked me into the lake by 'accident', and refused to let me out of their sight for a week. And that included showers."

Draco let out something that was a half giggle-half growl of jealousy. "Hey, they'd never try anything like that anymore," Harry explained. "But aside from that, they gave me an extensive lecture that went something like this - 'we're the only ones who can choose to stay away from you because we think it's too dangerous. We know you're putting us in danger by existing. We know you're the Boy Who Lived. But we choose to be your friends anyway because you're a wonderful person and we love you.'... And I love you. I love you for being you, and I would choose to brave a thousand dangers every morning to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm not angry any more - you made the same mistake I did."

There were tears trailing down Draco's gaunt face. "I'm... Harry, I'm sorry..."

Harry smiled, kissing the top of Draco's blond head. "I know."

They sat in silence for a minute as Draco cried, trying to gasp out an apology or something like it. Harry wondered what he was going to do next. The answer came when Draco finally got out some intelligible words. "Harry, I can't... I'm... I've been sick all month. I can't take it... I need..."

"What you need," Harry said, "Is food, sleep, and a proper home; none of which you have right now." Harry scooped his lover up in his arms. "Geez Draco, you're light as a feather." He placed Draco down on the bed, ignoring his mumbled protest. "Shh. Go to sleep." And with that, Harry got on as well, snuggling himself around the slightly shorter Draco the way they used to, so that their bodies almost molded into each other. Draco was a little thinner, true, but they still fit. However, there was one last issue that needed to be solved. "Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Why is there women's clothing all over your floor?"

*~*~*~*

When Draco woke up, he was safe, happy, comfortable, and warm; but he was also really, really hungry. He had been going without food for days, so it was not a new concept. However, being warm, comfortable, happy, and safe was something that had not happened in a long time.

His grey eyes snapped open, to see Harry's beautiful face in front of him, still relaxed in sleep. He moved himself just enough to look around the room. It was definitely not his. The bed was bigger - a queen-size, he thought - and it was a hell of a lot neater and cleaner than something that Draco had been living in. The velvet comforter spread caringly over the two men was dark green, a comforting color from the disgusting blue of his old flat.

He felt Harry stir next to him, and a second later, his familiar face appeared within Draco's field of vision. "Morning, sunshine," Harry whispered.

Draco was deluged with a flood of memories. Every morning, even if Draco got up first, he would wait until Harry awoke and pretend to have been asleep. Then Harry would smile and say a sweet "Morning, sunshine" to the sleepy Draco who was always the very opposite of sunshine. How was it that Harry could see light in Draco's darkness? Sunshine in his moonlit soul? Suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore, and pulled Harry down into a passionate kiss to which the other man eagerly responded.

*~*~*~*

Hermione was making "breakfast" (it was 1:00 in the afternoon already, but she needed her beauty sleep) in the kitchen as Ron cleaned up his mess in the drawing room, carrying stacks of papers to their room. "Hey Ron, have you seen Harry?" she called out, forgetting that she had gone to sleep after Ron and woken up before him.

"Hopefully he's getting some sleep. His door's closed."

"Oh, good. I hadn't noticed," she replied, referring to the door.

Ron came back into the kitchen after piling the last of his papers. He came up behind Hermione and slipped his arms around her waist, hooking his chin over her shoulder.

"Honey, I can't move."

"You're comfy."

"Ron..."

"You smell good."

"Oh, fine." Hermione smiled, not really wanting to object anyway. They stayed in the embrace for another minute before Hermione had to save the eggs from burning.

"I love Saturdays..." she sighed happily as she finished cooking. "You want to do something today?"

Ron got himself a glass of water. "Maybe. I missed you last night. I was kind of hoping to make up the time..." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Hermione grinned and set the three plates down. "Ron, you fell asleep on the couch! If anyone, I should be the one demanding make-up sex!"

Ron gave her The Sad Puppy Face. "Will you?"

She laughed and kissed him. "It sounds like a wonderful idea. However, let's have breakfast first. We'll save Harry's plate for later, he needs the sleep."

A minute later, the notion of Harry catching up on sleep was completely blown out of their minds. Harry and Draco had appeared in the dining room, and although only their very best friends would know that tousled clothes and rumpled hair meant something other than sleep - well... Ron and Hermione were their very best friends.

"You didn't get any sleep at all, did you?" Hermione asked accusingly. She really wasn't at all surprised that Draco had appeared overnight; well, she would have a lot to say to him later in the day, but it was a little much to be hit with on a Saturday morning (after what was most likely mind-blowing sex).

Harry glared at her indignantly as he and Draco sat down in the seats he'd always imagined they would take - him across from Ron, Draco on his right, Hermione at the head of the table on the left. "I did too! I was up until 7:30 driving Draco here, then I slept 'til 12:30, then we came down here. Eventually," he added, grinning.

Hermione frowned. "But it's - oh! You brought him in at 7:30 a.m.?" she cried.

Harry pushed his eyes over to Draco, who devoured them. "Hey, it's six hours there and six back!"

"More like seven," Draco added.

"I was driving fast," Harry replied.

Hermione sighed heavily. Yes, a LOT to talk about... "All right. Well, Draco... Oh it's so good to see you again!"

Draco smiled quietly. "It still feels like some kind of dream. Everything's too happy here."

Harry shook his head, taking Draco's hand under the table. "Draco, this is just the way everything is supposed to be."

...he should have been there on all those nighttime drives down empty highways...he should have woken up next to Harry every morning...he should be sitting right next to Harry at the breakfast table...

And from now until forever, he would be.