Stepping off the Hogwarts Express after completing his Eighth Year, Harry was bluntly and suddenly awakened to the fact that his life was no longer his own.  During the past academic year, he had been largely sheltered from the outside world in general and the Press in particular.  He had, rather naively, assumed that people would have forgotten about him by the time he finished school but the enormous horde of reporters and well wishers on the platform at King's Cross indicated otherwise.

 

To his surprise, his friends seemed prepared for this and he was herded quickly away from the crowd, Ron and Ginny on either side of him and Hermione marching in front, a loud cry of 'Harry is not answering any questions' preceding them.

 

This management of his life, masterminded by Hermione, continued throughout the whole of July.  Harry found he was regularly accepting invitations to events he had no knowledge of and no desire to attend; there were Ministry functions, charity fundraisers, Quidditch matches and interviews.  Through it all, Hermione, Ron and (usually) Ginny were by his side, encouraging him to talk to people he didn't want to know and say things he didn't want to say.

 

Gradually, the events sorted themselves into patterns and he found Hermione by his side during all the charity galas, Ron accompanying him to Quidditch matches and the louder parties and Ginny clinging to his arm at everything where she could possibly fit herself in as his 'significant other'.

 

There was only one person Harry felt entirely happy with confiding in and who understood not only his desire to be left alone but also the reason why Ginny's constant attention and starry-eyed looks were making him more uneasy than ever.  Eventually, after several Floo calls to Romania and an afternoon in the company of several dragons, Harry took Charlie's advice and made a stand.  He issued a statement that he was unable to attend any more functions, apologised for those invitations that had already been accepted and announced that he was gay.  Ron immediately accused him of being selfish and stand-offish (there was a pair of tickets to the Quidditch World Cup that he had had his eye on).  Hermione supported Harry in his sexuality but said that he should think of the other beings that were discriminated against and follow her lead in fighting persecution.  Ginny, on being told Harry was gay, burst into a noisy Flood of tears and fled to her room, ruining what had already been an awkward afternoon at The Burrow.

 

Relationships with his friends deteriorated rapidly after that and Harry became more and more short-tempered.  His birthday celebrations were fun and the sense of freedom he felt in allowing himself to exchange blowjobs with a stranger in a club was briefly invigorating.  This feeling lasted the short time until Hermione started lecturing him on diseases and setting a good example and Ron complained about Harry doing 'things like that' where Ron could see.  This, coupled with the fact that he was having serious doubts about becoming an Auror (and that was one of Ron's pet topics of conversation), was the reason that Harry found himself in Muggle London shortly after his birthday in the company of Neville and Luna, neither of whom had displayed any interest in manipulating or badgering him.

 

After a lengthy grumble and a large amount of self-pity, Harry felt marginally better but still the thought of continuing with his life as it was horrified him.

 

'You need to get away,' Neville stated when Harry had finished his complaining.

 

'I feel like running away nearly all the time, now,' Harry replied, 'and I wish I could but I can't.'

 

'Why not?' Neville asked.  'I'm not talking about running away forever, just going on a holiday.  You don't need to tell anyone where you go; you could even travel as a Muggle.  It would be a chance for you to have a bit of time to yourself and decide where you want to go in life.'

 

Harry felt as if someone had just handed him the Snitch.

 

'But if I just disappeared, there would be a hell of a scene.  The Aurors are informed whenever anyone goes missing and you can imagine how much worse it would be if it was Harry Potter.'

 

Neville smiled at him companionably.

 

'Not if someone, a friend, assured everyone that you were safe and had just gone away for a bit.  You could write notes to Ron and Hermione so they'd know you hadn't been kidnapped and then go off for as long as you liked.  After all, Harry, no matter what other people may tell you, it's your life and your decision what you do with it.'  Harry felt a lump in his throat as Neville spoke.

 

'Thanks, Nev.  You always have good advice.  I really appreciate it.'  There was silence for a moment.  'I don't know where I could go, though.  I'd like to go to stay with Charlie but he's just got a new boyfriend and I don't want to get in the way.  I've got a bit of thinking to do, it seems.'

 

Luna awoke placidly from her Luna-daze to join in the conversation now.

 

'I think there's a book you should read, Harry.  You might find it gives you some ideas.'

 

'About places to go?' Harry asked.  'What is it, a travel guide?'  Luna shook her head dreamily.

 

'<i>Magical Connections in Theory and Practice</i>.  It's very informative in certain chapters.'

 

Harry waited to see if she was going to elaborate but she returned to gazing at the passers-by and didn't say any more.  He looked at Neville, who shrugged.

 

'Thanks, Luna, I'll look into it,' Harry said quietly, leaning back in his chair.  He felt excited and calm at the same time.  The prospect of time to himself was something he'd thought about for a long time but hadn’t dared to hope for.  It was something to look forward to and the quiet companionship that Neville and Luna always gave was so refreshing that he found himself able to dive in to thoughts of where he might go straight away.

 

He was still thinking about possible destinations when he returned to Grimmauld Place that evening.  Travelling around the world and seeing new places might be nice but it wouldn't be as good without someone to share the experience with.  Really, he wanted somewhere to relax; somewhere he could unravel the tension left over from the War and rearrange his life into something he would enjoy.

 

After a light supper, reluctantly provided by Kreacher, Harry wandered into the library to see if he could find the book Luna had mentioned.  After an hour's searching, he found a dusty old volume that claimed it was what he was seeking and sat down to read.  Flicking through the chapter headings, Harry stopped and looked thoughtfully at Chapter Five, <i>Life Debts: Creation and Repayment</i>, then started to read in detail.  One extract in particular caught his eye.

 

<i>Whilst life debts can be, and frequently are, repaid on the spur of the moment, as situations and circumstances arise, the repayment may also be formally requested in a particular form.  Usually, this will be some task personal to the characters involved and therefore not easily generalised.  However, there are certain repayments that have been invoked over the centuries and the method of requesting them formalised.  The most popular of these (and a frequent request during wartime, when life debts are often incurred) is the granting of Sanctuary.  This can be invoked in any situation where the debtee wishes to be temporarily sheltered by the debtor; it does not have to involve fear or the threat of violence or death.  The person granting Sanctuary, having accepted the task, is bound to silence and secrecy on their guest's whereabouts and bound also to ensure their welfare for as long as the Sanctuary lasts.  However short a time the Sanctuary is claimed for, if it has been formally requested and granted beforehand, the life debt is considered repaid in full once the guest leaves.  Any other task that is formally requested, however small, will also fulfil the debt once completed.  The method of claiming Sanctuary, which has been in this exact form for at least seven centuries, follows below.</i>

 

 

 

Harry stood before the gates of Malfoy Manor, wondering if he was making a colossal mistake.  The Malfoys had been keeping a low profile since the trials, during which Harry had testified in their support.  He knew that it was largely due to his testimony that Narcissa and Draco had been acquitted, and particularly that Lucius was released, albeit after a Dampening Spell had been placed on his wand to limit his magic for ten years.

 

He vividly remembered standing in the courtroom, all eyes on him, as he stated firmly that, in his opinion, the entire family had suffered enough for the mistakes they had made.  Ron had been dismayed at this, and even more when they were released and nothing of theirs confiscated.  He wanted revenge, partly for Malfoy's behaviour in school and partly because, in his words, 'They're Malfoys, Harry.  Of course they're evil.'

 

Harry refused to budge on this subject, however, and even Ron admitted that Narcissa, at least, did not deserve to be punished after saving Harry's life.  Draco had returned to Hogwarts for his final year and had kept to himself, only speaking if asked a question by a teacher.  There hadn't been many others in the upper years in Slytherin and those that were there didn't want to have anything to do with him.  The last time Harry had exchanged more than two words with him had been when he returned Draco's wand, immediately after the trials.

 

After the fuss surrounding the trials had calmed down, there had been nothing about them in the papers at all.  Either there was a complete press blackout on them or they never left the Manor.  Whichever it was, Harry thought, steeling himself to reach forward and touch the gates, it suited his purposes.  No one would ever imagine he would willingly stay with the Malfoys, except perhaps Luna, judging from her advice about the book, but Harry didn't think she would talk.  Neville had specifically asked Harry not to tell him where he was going.  As he said, if he didn't know then there was no way anyone would be able to get the information out of him.

 

Harry touched the cold metal of the gates and immediately a house-elf appeared.  Its eyes widened when it saw him.

 

'I would like to speak with the family, if that is possible.  All of them,' Harry stated firmly.

 

'Please wait,' the creature squeaked and disappeared abruptly.  After a brief pause it returned and the gates swung open.

 

'Mistress Malfoy is welcoming you to Malfoy Manor.  Please to be following Dipsy.'

 

The gates swung shut behind him and Harry strode up the drive with a confidence that was only half-genuine.

 

Dipsy ushered Harry into what he assumed was the drawing room.  The Manor seemed different from his previous experience there.  He supposed it was not surprising that the family would want to change things; having their house temporarily taken over by a psychotic madman was not the sort of thing one would want to remember.  All three members of that family were now awaiting him.  Narcissa appeared elegant and dignified as always and Lucius looked much the same as ever, although Harry knew that the ever-present cane was now a necessity rather than an accessory.  Draco was as pale and quiet as he had been all through their Eighth year and Harry doubted he would ever get used to seeing him like that.  In his mind, Draco was sparky and defiant; one of the few who would never willingly let Harry win at anything.

 

Pulling his mind back to his purpose, Harry addressed himself to Narcissa.

 

'Thank you for allowing me an audience.'  He made his words deliberately formal, hoping it would help his case.  'I have something to ask Draco but, since it concerns you all, I thought it would be better to do so in the presence of you and Mr Malfoy.'  Narcissa raised an inquiring eyebrow.

 

'Please continue, Mr Potter.  We will be most interested in what you have to say.'  Harry hoped she would still feel that way in a few minutes' time.  He turned to Draco and found grey eyes watching him warily.  Harry cleared his throat.

 

'I call upon you, Draco Malfoy, to repay the life debt, which is owed to me.  To this end, I ask that you grant me sanctuary for as long as I shall need to be sheltered.'

 

Draco's eyes were wide and there was a stunned silence in the room.  Then Lucius coughed.

 

'I was not aware that you were in any danger, Mr Potter.'

 

'I'm in danger of losing my mind if I don't get away soon,' Harry replied dryly.  'My life has become pretty much unbearable since I left Hogwarts and I need some time away from the Harry Potter Circus while I decide what I want to do.'

 

'And what of your debt to me?' Narcissa asked.  Harry was prepared for this question.

 

'I hope you will tell me what I can do to repay it,' he said earnestly.  'I had thought that, if you knew me a little better, you might think of something you need me to do.'

 

She bowed her head gracefully at this, obviously considering his answer good enough.  An odd light had come into her eyes since he had spoken and Harry wasn't sure what it meant.  She seemed satisfied for the moment, however, so he ignored it and turned back to Draco.

 

'I don't own this house, Potter,' Draco said quietly, a slight frown on his face.  'It's not just up to me whether or not you stay here.'

 

'As far as I'm concerned, Draco,' Lucius interjected, 'Mr Potter may stay here as long as he likes.  It is thanks to him I am not a gibbering wreck in Azkaban.  I'm sure you agree, 'Cissa.'

 

'Certainly,' she replied.

 

Draco hesitated a moment longer and then stood up, his head raised proudly, and met Harry's eyes with his own.

 

'Harry Potter, I am willing to grant your request for sanctuary.  You are welcome in Malfoy Manor for as long as you need shelter.'

 

A tickle of magic swirled around the room and then settled over both of them.  Harry grinned at Draco and was pleased to see a tiny flicker of a smile in reply.

 

'Do you need an elf to fetch your luggage?'  Narcissa asked, moving smoothly into hostess mode.  'I can put you in a suite overlooking the gardens if you would like.'

 

'I'd love a view of the gardens,' Harry said gratefully, 'but you needn't send anyone for my luggage.  I came prepared.'  He pulled his trunk, carefully shrunk that morning, from his pocket and smiled at Narcissa.  Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of an amused smirk from Draco and found himself looking forward to his time at Malfoy Manor.

 

 

 

Harry was surprised at how quickly he settled into the Manor and how easily he found himself getting on with the Malfoys.  They were a lot more relaxed in private and largely discarded the haughty, aristocratic air that they were so famous for.

 

It was Narcissa who was the most friendly, enlisting Harry's help in the gardens.  He was amazed that she enjoyed gardening herself and getting her hands dirty and even more that she used magic selectively, preferring to do many things by hand.  Harry loved the relaxation that gardening brought and the gardens at the Manor, some formal, some informal, provided endless work.

 

He was aware of the furore that surrounded his disappearance; it was all the Daily Prophet could talk about for several days.  Neville, however, covered for him, implying that he had left the country and the letter Harry had sent to Hermione gave her no excuse for thinking he had been abducted or murdered.  Apart from the newspaper, which he stopped reading after the first day, there was no intrusion on his new-found peace.  No one came to the Manor and Narcissa seldom ventured out.  Draco and Lucius never did.

 

Lucius spent most of his time in the library, involved in complicated research.  He seemed content with his life now and was always perfectly polite to Harry when he took tea in the garden with him and Narcissa.  Harry found it a little awkward at first, reconciling this genial version of Lucius Malfoy with the one he had known for several years, but his host appeared not to notice the awkwardness and Harry gradually found himself relaxing.  Narcissa manoeuvred herself and Harry onto first name terms very quickly and, by the end of Harry's first week there, he felt almost as if he was an old friend of the family.  Even the house-elves treated him as if he had always lived there and his previous life seemed a long way away.

 

The only person he didn't see much of was Draco.  Harry saw him at mealtimes, when he would answer any questions put to him quietly and quickly, but as soon as the meal was over Draco always disappeared back into his room.  Harry asked Narcissa about him one day as they were weeding one of the extensive borders.

 

'He's been very withdrawn since the war,' she replied to his first tentative enquiry.  'I thought at first that returning to Hogwarts would help him to recover and move on but he came back at the end of the year even more reserved and shut in.  It worries me a lot.'  Her voice cracked slightly.  'I don't want him to spend the rest of his life isolated from everything because of the mistakes of his youth.  Mistakes that his father and I allowed and even encouraged.'  She had stopped weeding and looked at the ground silently.  Harry wasn't sure what to say but she recovered herself with amazing speed and smiled at him.

 

'Draco was such a happy child when he was young,' she said fondly.  'He always had to be involved in everything and made the most frightful performance if he was left out.  Such a menace at times.'  Harry grinned.

 

'Sounds familiar.'  Narcissa's smile turned sad for a moment.

 

'Lucius was a wonderful father when Draco was very small but he hadn't escaped his own upbringing then and, as Draco grew older, he passed on everything his own father had taught him.  A Malfoy is always a Malfoy before they are a person.  Duty comes before everything else.  The best way to get what you want is to display your own superiority and woe betide anyone who denies you.'  She sighed.  'Lucius started to realise over the past few years that his father had not been correct in everything but he found it very difficult to change the habits of a lifetime.  By the time he really began to consider changing, the Dark Lord had returned and, well, one clings to what is familiar in times of trouble.'

 

'Better the devil you know,' Harry said softly.  A thought struck him.  'I guess Draco really wanted to be my friend in First Year, then, if his reaction is anything to go by.'  Narcissa laughed.

 

'Oh, it was all I heard about for weeks during his first term.  He owled me almost every day to tell me what you had been up to and how dreadful you were.'  Harry was a little stunned by this.

 

'I didn't realise he thought about me that much.'  He paused and then continued rather wistfully.  'You know, he's the only person who's ever wanted to be friends with me without knowing who I was first.'

 

'What about Mr Weasley and Miss Granger?'

 

'Ron came to sit in my compartment in the train because everywhere else was full.  We introduced ourselves almost straight away.  Hermione guessed who I was the moment she saw me.  I've often wondered why Draco bothered to talk to me that time in Madam Malkin's.'  He lost himself in the memory.

 

'Draco has many faults but he has always been a good judge of character.  He may not always act on his instincts but he usually knows when someone is worth talking to.  He was thrilled at the thought that he had found himself a friend.  I remember him talking about all the things you were going to do together and I wondered then if it would go as he wanted or not.'  She turned and looked firmly at Harry, who was looking very regretful.  'Things might have been very different if you had become friends with Draco then, but they wouldn't necessarily have been better.  There's no point in regretting anything that you have done because it's in the past.  All you can do is move on and make things better in the future.  Now come on, let's get this border finished.'

 

She began attacking the weeds ferociously and Harry watched her for a moment before beginning again himself.  He often wished he had known his mother but now he wished more than anything that he had a mother like Narcissa Malfoy.

 

It was a couple of nights after that talk with Narcissa that the dreams began.  Harry had noticed, of course, that Draco had grown up and grown into his pale pointy look and was now rather attractive.  He had steadfastly ignored the thoughts that crossed his mind whenever Draco exited a room and Harry's eyes were drawn downwards.  The dreams, however, were impossible to ignore.  Harry had awoken the first time drenched in sweat and panting as if he had just run ten miles.  He was harder than he could ever remember being and the remnants of the dream were still hovering around him.  Endless expanses of pale skin, slightly flushed from arousal, trembling limbs spread wide and bright grey eyes tantalised him and he had hardly touched himself before he came, groaning Draco's name.

 

At breakfast the next morning, Harry was aware that his constant glances were unsettling Draco but he couldn't help it.  Now that the possibilities had been shown to him, in glorious detail, he couldn't keep his eyes away.  Draco eventually mumbled an excuse and escaped early and Harry suppressed a sigh as he went, taking his gorgeous arse with him.

 

He wondered briefly if it would be worth it to start a fight with Draco but quickly dismissed the idea.  Although their fights had been exhilarating, he didn't want to do anything to upset his position there.  He was also slightly embarrassed when he thought that a lot of his obsession with Draco in school could be put down to desire.  No doubt Hermione would have had a field day analysing that.  Harry resigned himself to imaginary interactions with Draco only.  They were probably a lot more positive than the reality would be.

 

 

 

A few days later, when Narcissa had gone out to pay a visit to an elderly friend who had just been admitted to St Mungo's, Harry ventured into the library.  It was a vast room surmounted by a huge glass dome, which filled the place with daylight, and had a narrow balcony running around the base.  The number of books was staggering and Harry, who had never been much of a one for libraries, found himself itching to explore.

 

'Impressive, isn't it?' a dry voice nearby said.  Harry turned to find Lucius watching him in amusement.

 

'It's amazing,' Harry replied.  'It looks bigger than the library at Hogwarts.'

 

'It is.  My great grandfather was an avid collector of books and he turned it from a standard country house library into what you see now.  I have added to the collection where I can, recently in particular.  However, it is getting harder to find books that are not already in the library here, although the work I am currently doing has given me an excuse for acquiring a number of new volumes.'  He looked around fondly at the stacks, all crammed full of leather-bound books.  'Indeed,' he continued, 'since my research is not progressing as fast as I would like, I have had considerable reason to expand the library.'

 

'What is your research?' Harry asked, feeling reasonably sure that Lucius would not mind him asking.

 

'Magical neutralisation.'  Harry looked blank, so Lucius explained.  'Nearly all specific spells have counter-spells that, if performed correctly and at the right time, will nullify the effect.  There are also shielding spells that reflect magic of a lesser degree to that of the shield.  However, what I am looking at is the ability to neutralise the intent of a spell as soon as it is cast, so that the magic can be allowed to dissipate harmlessly.  It is hard going at the moment, since the few wizards who have been able to produce a similar effect relied entirely on instinctive magic to do it and were unable to reproduce their actions subsequently.'

 

'Instinctive magic?'

 

‘Most magic that one uses is done with spells and specific incantations.  When there is not a spell for something or one does not know the incantation, magic is therefore relatively powerless for most witches and wizards.  But if you consider the magical outbursts that most magical children have,' Harry smiled at this, remembering Aunt Marge, 'you will see that a spell should not be necessary in order to produce an action.  It is another area that is sadly lacking in published information.'

 

'Is it like wandless magic?' Harry asked.  Lucius shook his head.

 

'Wandless magic, when used by highly trained and powerful magical beings, still uses incantations, even if they are merely thought.  One has to begin with the spell using a wand and then move on to directing magic into the spell without a wand.  What I am interested in is magic, with or without a wand, that works by intention only.  You have an idea and immediately your magic leaps to do your bidding.  Once you intend it to, of course.'

 

Harry was intrigued by the possibilities.

 

'And the neutralisation thing,' he said, thinking aloud, 'there should be no limits to what you could do with that.'

 

'Theoretically,' Lucius agreed.  'However, as I have found, theory and practice are very different.  The Ministry hasn't helped by dampening my wand.  I cannot produce sufficient power to test my theories.  This is one form of magic where a great amount of power is necessary to achieve anything.'

 

'It could stop the Killing Curse,' Harry said quietly.

 

'It could; though it could not reverse the spell once it found its target.  Magical death is as final as any other kind.'

 

Harry wandered over to one of the stacks and looked at the titles he could see.

 

'Have you always been this interested in research?  It doesn't seem like a very Malfoyish thing to do.'

 

'I believe I would have been in Ravenclaw had I not been born a Malfoy,' Lucius replied, smiling slightly.  'My father was not interested in research of any kind where it did not immediately lead to some benefit.  Now that the War and my part in it has comprehensively proved this approach wrong, I am allowing myself the luxury of what I wanted to do years ago.  Pure research, simply for the love of it.  Perhaps it is selfish of me.'  He shrugged.  'However, my public career is over, so I can ignore what the world thinks.  I enjoy my research, though I would enjoy it a lot more if I could test it out properly.  I will leave it to others to apply it practically.'

 

Harry was impressed in spite of himself and interested in what Lucius had said about his work.  An idle thought occurred to him.

 

'Could Voldemort do wandless magic?'  Lucius did not flinch at all on hearing the name.

 

'No.  The Dark Lord did not possess the self-discipline or the staying power to train himself for that.'  Harry frowned.

 

'I thought it was a question of power.  Dumbledore could do wandless.'

 

'Dumbledore was a highly trained wizard.  He also happened to be very powerful but the two were unconnected.  Except, perhaps, that he may have thought it advisable to harness his power with extensive training.  The least powerful witch or wizard is capable of learning to do magic without a wand.  How much you can do with it depends on power, but not whether it is possible.'

 

Harry nodded and walked over to the desk.

 

'I would be happy to help with your research, if you wanted,' he said.  'If it's just a question of needing a good bit of power to test things out, well, I've got plenty of that.'  He smiled wryly.  'Too much, really, but if it could help me learn to control it, that would be a bonus.  I'm fed up of losing control of my magic just because I get a bit upset with someone.'  Lucius looked at him searchingly for a moment and then smiled, waving him to sit down.

 

'That would be most helpful.  You appear, if you will forgive me saying so, still largely untrained magically.  The lack of any magical education before Hogwarts, and then not much more than the bare minimum is probably responsible for that.  For you, instinctive magic and its uses here may well prove to be a lot easier than for a person highly trained in traditional magic.  Furthermore, the experience of working with someone of your power who does not have over-ambitious tendencies will be... exhilarating.'  They looked at each other, a silent peace solidifying between them, and then Lucius began to explain his ideas in detail, his voice gradually taking on the scholarly tone of a professor.

 

After that, Harry found himself constantly busy, splitting his days between the library and the gardens.  Narcissa was delighted that Harry was helping Lucius with his research and Harry wondered if she had been worried about arguments developing.  Amazingly, from Harry's point of view, none happened; when they were in the library the work engrossed them and did not allow for much else to be talked about and at other times Lucius continued to be the ever-polite host.

 

 

 

 

Harry enjoyed his conversations with Narcissa and found she was genuinely interested in hearing about his life.  When he mentioned the Dursleys’ treatment of him in passing, explaining where he had learned to love gardening, he was amused and a little alarmed at her outrage and anger.  Harry didn’t think she would actually go so far as to hunt them down but he decided it might be safer for them if he didn’t mention them again.  They swapped stories about Sirius and the various professors that they had had at Hogwarts.  When Narcissa described what she could remember of Harry’s mother at school and what Snape had told her, he was enchanted.

 

The constant hot weather was not the only thing that made Harry sweat at night.  His dreams of Draco continued and he was constantly tortured by the blond loveliness that was out of his reach during the daytime.

 

One afternoon in the garden, after Harry had been at the Manor for a couple of weeks (although it felt like forever to him), Narcissa broke off from a discussion about the possible new layout of a flower bed.  She turned to him with a serious look and eyed him speculatively until he was about to ask what was wrong.

 

'I have been thinking about your life debt to me.’

 

‘Whatever it is you want, I’m sure I’ll be happy to do it,’ Harry said.  Narcissa smiled wanly and sighed a little.

 

‘I am so worried about Draco and I was wondering if you could do anything.  He refuses to tell me what he does all day.'  She deadheaded a rose absent-mindedly.  'You two have always provoked reactions in each other and perhaps you might be able to bring him out of his shell.'  She looked Harry in the face, giving him the full effect of her big blue eyes.  'I'm sure you can do something to help him and any difference, however small, that you can make will gain my everlasting gratitude.'

 

Harry couldn't say no to that and he secretly rejoiced in the knowledge that he had been given a perfect excuse, at least as far as Narcissa was concerned, to spend as much time as he wanted in Draco's presence.  He departed to think things over in another part of the garden and Narcissa spelled her hands clean and went happily in to the library to see her husband.

 

'What are you up to?' were his first words on her entrance.  Her eyes widened innocently.

 

'I don't know what you mean, dear.'

 

He snorted.

 

'Your request a few minutes ago to our young guest happened to be just outside the library window, which is, as you see, open.'  Narcissa made a vague noise of surprise.  'Furthermore, Marionetta informs me that you visited our son this morning and asked him to 'make an effort to be nice to Harry and cultivate his friendship because influential friends are always useful’.'  He looked sternly at his wife, who sniffed.

 

'Marionetta should stay in her portrait and not spread gossip all over the Manor,' she commented lightly.  ‘In any case, influential friends are useful and I think Harry and Draco might enjoy each other’s company.’

 

Lucius sighed and silently wished both Draco and Harry luck in whatever scheme she was cooking up.

 

 

 

That evening, Harry was delighted when Draco hung around after supper instead of disappearing as usual.  By silent agreement, they drifted into the drawing room and sat down, Lucius and Narcissa for once absent.  Harry wracked his brain, trying to think of something to say that was interesting and non-controversial.  He was saved when Draco said suddenly,

 

‘You’ve settled in all right?  I suppose I should have been a better host.  Sorry I haven’t been around much.’

 

‘No,’ Harry started quickly.  ‘I mean yes, I have settled in.  But I’m sure you’re busy with your own things.  You don’t need to worry about me if you don’t... you know.’

 

Draco smiled awkwardly and there was silence again.  Childhood memories, the War, Hogwarts, politics; Harry thought frantically, dismissing each possible subject as it arose.  Even future plans were tricky, since that conversation had the potential to involve the post-War situation.  Quidditch was difficult as well, given their previous fierce rivalry on the pitch.

 

‘It’s been really hot lately,’ Harry said at last, cringing inwardly at the banality of his remark.

 

‘Yes,’ Draco agreed.  ‘It has, very hot.’

 

Another pause.

 

‘Is it affecting Mother’s plants?’ he asked.  ‘Too much heat?’

 

Harry grasped at the possibility of talking about Narcissa’s gardens like a drowning man clutching at straws.  Surely here was a safe subject.

 

‘It would have affected them if it weren’t for the protective charms she uses.  I think the grass would be completely brown by now.  The roses are doing well, though.  They don’t mind the hot weather at all.’

 

‘That’s good,’ Draco murmured.  ‘Mother has always loved her gardening.’

 

‘You’ve never felt tempted to get your hands dirty yourself?’

 

A wry smile crossed Draco’s face.

 

‘Not since I was very young.  Herbology was never really my thing, except where it relates to Potions.’  He stopped abruptly, seemingly aware that he was straying onto more dangerous ground and perhaps, Harry thought, remembering Snape.  They both glanced at each other and quickly looked away again.

 

‘Have you been following the Quidditch League?’ Harry asked eventually, thinking professional Quidditch might be suitable to talk about if they stayed away from their school games.

 

‘Not for a while,’ Draco replied.  ‘I used to be a big fan of the Montrose Magpies.’

 

‘Really?  Why?  I mean, Montrose is a long way away from Wiltshire.’

 

‘My parents took me to a place just outside Montrose when I was six to stay with a distant cousin and I was fascinated as soon as I saw the magpie on the team’s logo.  After that, I started asking Father to tell me the Quidditch scores whenever he was reading the paper and eventually he got so fed up he took me to a game of theirs.  I never stopped following them; sentimentality, I suppose.’  He shrugged self-consciously.  ‘How about you?’

 

‘I don’t really support any particular team,’ Harry said, relaxing into his armchair.  ‘Ron supports the Chudley Cannons and Oliver joined Puddlemere United, so I keep an eye on both of those but I’ll cheer for anyone.’  He grinned and was delighted when Draco smiled back, a genuine, albeit small, smile.

 

‘Oliver?’ Draco asked.

 

‘Wood.’

 

‘The Gryffindor Keeper before Weasley?  He was Captain as well for our first few years, wasn’t he?’

 

‘That’s right.  He was an absolute tyrant as far as practice was concerned but he was really good in First Year when I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.  I saw him and his girlfriend just after the end of school; he was talking about getting engaged and his career certainly seems to be taking off.’

 

Draco laughed.

 

‘Taking off?  That’s appropriate for a Quidditch player.’

 

Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled.

 

‘You know what I mean.’

 

There was another silence, more comfortable this time, and when Draco tentatively asked how his father’s research was getting on and if Harry was enjoying it, Harry was able to answer easily.

 

A couple of hours later, when they said goodnight, words were coming freely to both of them and they were leaning towards tentative friendliness.  Harry was pleased with the start he had made and, deciding not to push his luck, left it at fairly short conversations for a couple more days.

 

 

 

Once he felt he had made enough progress on establishing contact, he ventured up to Draco's room one afternoon and knocked boldly on the door.  Draco looked surprised to see Harry when he opened it but not displeased and it gave Harry courage.

 

'I wondered if you'd like to go flying with me.  It's a wonderful day outside and I felt like getting into the air for a bit.'  Draco hesitated noticeably and it struck Harry that the last time Draco had been on a broom had been in their escape from the Room of Requirement.

 

'I haven't been on a broom for ages but... all right,' he said eventually.  'Come in and wait a moment while I change.'

 

Harry entered the room with a good deal of interest and stood near the bed looking around as Draco disappeared into what looked like an enormous walk-in wardrobe.  The room was light and airy and decorated in pale shades that echoed Draco's own colouring.  There was a portrait on one wall of a beautiful young woman, clearly a Malfoy, judging from her features, who eyed Harry keenly.

 

'You must be Harry Potter,' she said after a minute or so.  'Draco never bothers to introduce me to anyone, so I have to do it myself.  I am Marionetta Malfoy.'  This was announced in a tone that suggested she expected a round of applause.  Harry stepped closer to her and bowed.

 

'I'm honoured to meet you, Madam.'  A coy smile spread across her face and she giggled.

 

'Oh, what a gentleman.  I don't meet many people these days and certainly not anyone as polite as you.  I do hope we can be friends.  Good friends.'  She fluttered her eyelashes at him and fiddled with her hair.

 

Harry smiled and said he hoped so too, wondering at the same time why on earth Draco would have the Malfoy version of Moaning Myrtle hanging in his bedroom.  Just then, Draco re-emerged, dressed in trousers and a light shirt.  Marionetta turned to him immediately.

 

'Draco,' she said crossly, 'why have you never brought Harry to visit me before?  I think you're very mean, keeping him all to yourself.'  A pained look crossed Draco's face.

 

'I apologise, Marionetta, but you are quite capable of leaving your portrait to find him if you really want to.  You'll have to continue your conversation with him later, anyway; we're going flying now.'

 

Marionetta waved at Harry and giggled again.

 

'Bye, Harry.  We'll have to talk later, when Mr Grumpy isn't around to interrupt us.'

 

Draco followed Harry quickly out of the door, grabbing his broom as he went.

 

'I'm sorry about Marionetta.  She always gets like that when she fancies someone.'

 

'That's all right.  I was just surprised that you'd have Moaning Myrtle's long lost sister in your bedroom.'  A quiet laugh escaped Draco.

 

'I wish I could put her somewhere else but I don't really have a good enough excuse.  She'd be ten times worse if she thought I'd snubbed her.  I much prefer landscapes to portraits but there aren't many in the Manor.  It's mostly ancestors.'

 

They had reached the hall by this time and Harry retrieved his broom, which he had left there, as they went outside.  Draco still looked very unsure as he mounted his broom and Harry held his breath for a few moments as he watched him take off.  Then Draco breathed deeply and seemed to relax into his broom.  He looked down at Harry, a wide smile on his face.

 

'Coming?' he called.

 

'I wish I was,' Harry murmured as he mounted his own broom and rose to join Draco.

 

Harry had always known Draco was a superb flyer, right from the first time he'd seen him on a broom, but he'd never really appreciated how beautiful Draco looked in the air.  Harry was fast and wasn't afraid of taking risks when he flew but he knew that, no matter how much he practised, he would never be as graceful as Draco.  The blond seemed to become part of his broom, totally streamlined and flying as naturally as any bird.  They didn't bother with a Snitch or any particular game but just amused themselves flying around each other, riding the wind currents and trying the occasional Quidditch move.  As they flew for longer and longer, Harry was amazed to realise that Draco was relaxing more and more into himself.  That moment when he had first taken to the air, Harry had thought Draco had let go completely.  It had been only a tiny fraction of the truth.

 

Draco suddenly pulled away from Harry and rose up higher than either of them had gone before, suddenly pulling himself and his broom over backwards and dropping into a dizzying plunge.  Harry's breath caught and he felt his own adrenaline rush through him, almost burning his nerves with the intensity.  He trusted Draco not to push himself beyond his own limits but, watching him pulling out of the dive and soaring up again, chasing after a bird that had strayed too close, he realised that he was falling himself, not physically but emotionally.  He rejoined Draco in their aerial games, his heart beating wildly, a fierce need to be near Draco overriding everything else.

 

 

 

Lucius, flicking through a book that had just been delivered, was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a widely smiling Narcissa.  He raised an eyebrow at her and she beckoned him over to the window.  He slowly limped over and followed her gaze upward to the two young men in the air.

 

'Matchmaking,' he stated deliberately.  'So that's what you're up to.'

 

'They would make a lovely couple, wouldn't they?' she replied, still watching them happily.

 

'I do not approve of matchmaking,' Lucius said firmly.  'My mother tried it and look what happened to me.'

 

'You'd be lost without me, darling,' Narcissa murmured, kissing him on the cheek.  He sighed and shook his head fondly, returning his gaze to the activity in the air.  Narcissa was still smiling at the sight and he slipped his arm around her waist as she rested her head on his shoulder.

 

 

 

Draco was rather bashful when he and Harry returned to the house after flying and he blushed slightly as he admitted that he had enjoyed himself.  When Harry suggested that they might do it again, his face coloured even more and he nodded, quickly departing to shower before supper.  Harry returned to his room in a daze of happiness, not quite believing how much he enjoyed Draco's mere presence.  It was with the greatest of difficulty that he managed to tone down the goofy smile that was splitting his face in order to go down to supper without looking like a complete idiot.

 

His dreams that night were particularly satisfying, featuring Draco's long slender legs, which had earlier been elegantly wrapped around his broom, wrapped tightly around Harry's waist as they coupled.

 

The next morning, when Draco came down to breakfast blushing and slid into his seat stiffly, it took Harry a moment to work out what was wrong.  When he did, a wide grin spread across his face.

 

'Out of condition, Draco?' he asked gleefully.  Draco glared at him and shifted slightly.

 

'Shut up, Potter,' he mumbled.  'I haven't been flying for ages.'

 

'Poor Draco.  I'll just have to make you do lots and lots of flying to get your muscles fit again.'  Draco looked horrified at this.

 

'I can't possibly get on a broom today,' he protested.

 

'Well, you can have today off.' Harry allowed. 'But we'll go flying again tomorrow.'  Draco sighed and eventually nodded.  'Promise?'

 

'Promise,' he agreed.  Harry grinned at him until an answering smile crossed Draco's face and they both turned to their food.

 

Lucius glanced at Narcissa, who was wearing what he privately called her smug cat look, and raised an eyebrow.  She smiled placidly at him and then allowed herself an extra slice of toast, something she only did on special occasions.

 

 

 

Harry's routine after that included some time with Draco every day.  It was not all spent flying; sometimes they just sat and talked, or Draco would sit and watch Harry gardening.  Draco still spent large chunks of each day, however, shut in his room and he steadfastly refused to tell Harry what he did in there.  Harry teased him about it, asking if he had a secret stash of romantic novels and threatening to ask Marionetta if she knew.  Marionetta had taken to popping up in whichever room Harry happened to be in and flirting outrageously.  He found it particularly embarrassing, especially when Lucius and Narcissa were present, but all the Malfoys thought it hysterically funny and refused to help him escape.  This had led to Harry entering rooms furtively and peering around corners to see if he could spot her lurking in a portrait.

 

He did not neglect either Narcissa or Lucius and thoroughly enjoyed the time he spent helping them.  It didn't give him the same thrill that seeing Draco did, but the research with Lucius was fascinating and Harry found his inner Ravenclaw (that he had previously been sure the Sorting Hat was mistaken about) coming out enthusiastically.  Gardening with Narcissa was also fun, especially when she started wanting to know about Muggle techniques.  That episode ended up with a visit to a garden centre and the purchase of a large sit-on lawnmower.

 

Harry was greatly amused when, Narcissa having finally got the hang of how the lawnmower worked, both Malfoy men emerged from the house, alarmed at the sight of her driving around the lawn.  Narcissa had persuaded Draco to have a go on the mower and he, not quite trusting the strange Muggle contraption, had insisted on Harry riding with him.  That had been both pleasurable and embarrassing, since the feel of having Draco in his arms was intoxicating and Harry had great difficulty in hiding his arousal.

 

Harry found himself falling deeper and deeper as the days went by.  He had no idea if Draco felt anything other than friendship for him and he didn't want to risk losing what they had in finding out.  Eventually, he asked Narcissa if he could invite Charlie over for lunch and, her permission having been given, he sent an owl to Romania.

 

 

 

It was a relief to see Charlie again and Harry felt that he was no longer alone with his troubles.  One extra trouble had recently been added to his mind, since Draco had become suddenly distant and withdrawn with him and had refused to go flying the previous day.  Charlie was one of the few parts of Harry's life that he had never had a problem with and, once lunch was over, they went up to the gallery, just under the dome in the library.  This was one of the few places in the Manor where there were no portraits and where Harry could feel safe from the attentions of Marionetta.

 

'You're looking well, Harry,' was Charlie's first remark as they sat down together on the Floor of the gallery.  'I guess you badly needed to get away from everyone.  Malfoy Manor, though?  I certainly never saw that coming.'  He didn't sound condemning or upset and Harry felt a rush of affection for him.

 

'I didn't think of it myself until something Luna said put the idea into my head.  And I never thought I'd say this but I really like it here.  I get on with them all and I feel useful and liked and... just happy.'  Charlie hugged him.

 

'I'm glad.  You of all people deserve to be happy.'  Harry's smile faded slightly.

 

'I do have a problem, though.  That's why I asked you here.  Apart from wanting to see you, of course.'

 

'Would it have anything to do with young Malfoy?'

 

'Is it that obvious?  Charlie, I'm crazy about him, really completely head over heels and I've no idea what to do.  I don't even know if he swings that way.  We've been getting on so well and the thought that I might wreck everything...'

 

Charlie leaned his head back against the glass of the dome and sighed.

 

'Out of the frying pan, into the fire, eh?  You seem to collect and create problems for yourself wherever you go.'  He sighed.  'Harry, I can't tell you what the right thing to do is because I'm not you.  What I can tell you is that you have to make a decision one way or the other.  Either you risk what you've got in the hope of getting something better or you decide to stay just as friends.  If you dither and say you'll wait and see what happens and try to stay friends while you're yearning for more, you'll just end up breaking your heart.  And it's one thing for someone else to break your heart but to break your own is just stupid.'

 

Harry nodded and stared down at his hands.

 

'I realise that,' he said quietly.  'I just... don't know which is the better option.  If Draco might be interested or not.'  Charlie put his hand on Harry's knee and smiled gently.

 

'I'd say it's worth taking the risk, if the death glares he was shooting at me over lunch are anything to go by.'  Harry looked blank and Charlie laughed.  'He looked pretty jealous to me.  I could be wrong, of course, but if it was me I would think it worth the risk.'

 

'Thanks, Charlie.  I really appreciate your coming here.'

 

'Well, we can't have you tying yourself in knots over young Malfoy, can we?'

 

'I think I already am in knots,' Harry said ruefully.  'Anyway, how are you getting on?  How's the new boyfriend?  Have the dragons eaten him yet?'

 

They fell into general talk about Charlie's life and what was going on in the world as far as he was aware, which Harry knew wasn't a great deal, since he was entirely preoccupied with his dragons.  Harry was pleased to hear that Charlie's new boyfriend was still around and swiftly becoming an established boyfriend.  He sounded like a bit of a handful but well worth it and Harry's mind was frequently (as usual, these days) drawn back to Draco.  Once they had exhausted all the topics of conversation that needed exhausting, Harry conducted a brief tour of the grounds, where Charlie delighted Narcissa by complimenting her on her skill as a gardener.

 

Later that afternoon, after Charlie had departed, Marionetta suddenly appeared in the drawing room and informed Harry that, since his nice visitor had gone (she had been rather taken by Charlie), Lucius would like to speak to him in the library.  With a small amount of trepidation, as it sounded like a summons rather than a request, Harry made his way to the library and sat down at the desk that was, as usual, covered in parchment and books.  Lucius smiled at him in a friendly way.  Harry was not reassured.

 

'You look as if you expect me to give you detention,' he commented.  'I can assure you that is not the case at all.  I merely wished to point out that, if you wish future conversations to remain private, it would be better to conduct them somewhere other than the Whispering Gallery.'  He indicated the dome above them and Harry blanched before going bright red.  He tried to speak but couldn't think of anything to say so shut his mouth and sat there feeling awkward.  Eventually, Lucius took pity on him.

 

'Perhaps I should explain about the Gallery.  It works on architectural principles that even Muggles understand and use.  Of course, they do not have the advantages of magic so, while in a purely Muggle example such as St Paul's Cathedral in London, a whisper can be heard only across the dome at the point opposite the speaker, here the sound is also directed downwards into all parts of the library.  An ingenious and, for the most part, pointless piece of magical engineering dreamed up by my great great uncle Adolphus.'  He paused and then coughed delicately.

 

'As to the subject matter of your conversation I cannot, of course, comment on Draco's feelings because I am not aware of them.'  Harry face burned brighter.  'However, from my own point of view, I have no objections to you courting my son.'  For a moment, the meaning was lost to Harry but then he understood and cleared his throat nervously.

 

'Thank you,' he managed.  'Your approval means a lot to me.  I have no idea if Draco has any interest in me but... thank you anyway.'  Lucius nodded graciously and the conversation was over.  Harry escaped thankfully and went to hide in his room until he had overcome his embarrassment.

 

 

 

Draco remained shut in his room for the rest of that day and Harry, not knowing what he had done to upset the blond, ended up talking to Marionetta about Charlie.  She was rather put out to find he had a boyfriend, although how she had imagined a relationship between a portrait and a human would work, Harry couldn't think.  After a couple of hours in her company, he managed to get away and retreated to the gardens.  Narcissa was happily riding around on her mower, even though the lawn didn't need cutting again, so Harry occupied himself with wandering around and musing on the situation with Draco.

 

He knew that his feelings had got to a stage where they would be hard to diminish but the thought of telling Draco terrified him.  Charlie's theory that Draco might have been jealous was encouraging but, at suppertime, just as Harry was preparing to try and test it, Draco emerged from his room and apologised for being unfriendly.  He said he hadn't been feeling too well and was uncomfortable with a Weasley in the house, considering his previous encounters with members of that family.  Harry could see no particular reason for Draco's sudden change of attitude and so was forced to accept his excuse.

 

Things between them returned, more or less, to normal after that but Harry still had no idea what to do.  He frequently berated himself for being a useless Gryffindor, not having the courage to declare his feelings, and an equally pressing issue was now looming on the horizon, coming closer with each day that passed.  Auror training started soon and he would need to inform them that he would not be joining.  That meant coming out of hiding and leaving the Manor.  There would doubtless be loud recriminations from a number of people over his disappearance and the location of his hideout and he hoped there wouldn't be any backlash against the Malfoys because of it.  Furthermore, Draco, having got over his temporary mood, was increasingly happy and back to his old self these days, now using his razor-sharp wit teasingly instead of maliciously.  Harry knew Narcissa was delighted with the change and feared the day when she would consider his job done and start waiting for him to leave.

 

Perhaps, Harry thought morosely, it will be better if he did leave.  It would, at any rate, give him some distance from Draco, which might allow his mind to unfuddle itself slightly.

 

 

 

One day around this time, just after lunch, Draco quietly asked Harry to come to his room.  He did so and found himself presented with a large box of parchment.  Draco was biting his lip in a most endearing manner.

 

'It's a manuscript,' he explained shyly.  'It's what I've been working on all summer.   A novel.  I... I would really like it if you'd read it and tell me what you think.  I really do value your opinion.  Very much.'  He was looking earnestly at Harry, searching for something in his eyes.  Harry looked down at the box and smiled.

 

'Is this your romantic novel?' he asked.  'You've been writing one instead of reading them?  Of course I'll read it.  I'm honoured that you want me to be the first to do so.'

 

'Thank you,' Draco murmured, still gazing at Harry.  Harry turned to the door.

 

'I'd better get started right away,' he said.  'It looks like I've got a lot to get through.'

 

This time it was Harry who was closeted in his room all afternoon and Draco who joined his mother in the garden.  She was having a rare day off from her plants and, after a while, Lucius joined them.  Both his parents were pleased at how relaxed Draco seemed, although he was rather preoccupied and his thoughts obviously somewhere else.

 

'Where's Harry?' Narcissa asked, fanning herself.  'It's not like him to shut himself away on a glorious day like today.'

 

'It's my fault,' Draco admitted.  'I gave him something to read, which may take a little while.'

 

'This would be the novel you've been working on, would it?' Lucius asked casually.  Draco's mouth dropped open and Lucius smirked in a satisfied way.

 

'You'll catch flies if you stay like that,' he commented.  Draco shut his mouth with a snap.  'As to how I know what you've been up to, well, let's just say that a friendly portrait has been keeping me informed.'  Narcissa leaned forward.

 

'You've written a novel?'  Draco flushed and nodded.  'And that's what was keeping you so busy all summer?'  He nodded again.  'Oh, darling, I'm so glad.  I was awfully worried about you, you know.  I thought you were still brooding on the War.'  He took her hand and squeezed it.

 

'I'm fine, Mother.  I promise I'll let you know if I'm not.'

 

The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully for the family as they enjoyed the sunshine and made idle conversation.  Harry emerged from his room just before suppertime and apologised for his absence.  This was waved away and, having whispered to Draco that he would talk to him afterwards, they went in to supper.

 

 

 

When they made their way to Draco's room later on, Draco was feeling very nervous and rather sick in anticipation of what Harry might say.  However, when Harry turned to him and handed back the manuscript in its box, the look on Harry's face dispelled all his fears.

 

'It was... Draco, I have no words to describe it.  Incredible, amazing, fantastic.  I don't know how you managed to put so much into the words.  As someone who was intimately involved in the War, I understand it all and every part of it rings true for me.  I'm sure everyone else will say the same.'

 

'Thank you, Harry,' Draco said, a wide smile on his face.  'I didn't want to write about the War itself; that would have been... well, it's still far too recent for me.'  Harry nodded.  'I wanted to use what I felt at the time and then I had the idea of using an entirely fictional, historical setting.  It made it easier to write the darker parts but I wasn’t sure it would come across quite right.'

 

'It came across perfectly.'

 

Draco closed his eyes for a moment and sighed with relief and happiness.

 

'I can't tell you what your friendship means to me, Harry,' he said.  At this, Harry's heart, which had risen along with Draco's happiness, sank like a stone and his smile faded.

 

'Harry?' Draco asked softly.  Harry tried to smile again but failed.

 

'I think... I'm going to have to leave the Manor soon.  Very soon, in fact.  Probably in the next couple of days.'  A look of horror and panic crossed Draco's face.

 

'What?  Why?  I thought everything was going well.'

 

'It has been.  It is.  It's just that I really can't impose on you anymore and-’ Draco cut him off sharply.

 

'Don't be ridiculous.  We all love having you here.  Mother adores you and Father really appreciates your help with his research.  As for me, well, you know how much I enjoy your company.'  Harry sighed heavily.  It seemed he would have to tell Draco how he felt after all.

 

'It's not just that,' he began.  'You want to be friends with me and I...’ He trailed off, unable to find the words.

 

'And you don't,' Draco finished, standing up abruptly and walking over to the window.  'I-I understand.  I'm sorry I thought-'

 

'No!' Harry cried.  'That's not it at all.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  I want more.  A lot more but, as you’ve said, you just want to be friends.  I do like you as a friend, very much, and that's why I think it would be best if I left.  I don't want to ruin everything.'

 

Draco approached him slowly and took Harry's hands in his, clearly searching for the right words.

 

'You don't have to go, Harry.  Really, there's no need.  I... Your feelings for me... They are not unrequited.'  He blushed and stared at the Floor between them, shifting his feet nervously.  Harry took a slow breath in.  It had obviously taken a lot of courage for Draco to say how he felt so openly.

 

'That's a rather long-winded way of telling me you love me, isn't it?' he murmured, silently praying that the L-word wouldn't frighten Draco off completely.  Draco looked up at him, his face still pink.

 

'Not at all,' he replied with dignity, a small smile lurking at the corners of his mouth.  'Malfoys simply use language more elegantly than you mere mortals.'

 

They both smiled at each other with relief and affection, allowing their eyes to speak for them.  Then Harry freed one of his hands and stroked Draco's cheek, feeling him lean into the caress.  Harry moved closer, brushing their faces together and relishing the feel of Draco's breath tickling his skin.

 

Slowly, both of them feeling their way in unfamiliar territory, their mouths found and clung to each other.  With the ecstasy of the soft yielding lips against his, Harry finally allowed himself to let go of the fear that he would lose Draco completely and embraced the promise of a future with countless more kisses like this one.  Harry's left hand was still entwined with Draco's right and he squeezed those long fingers, feeling them return the gesture, an entire conversation passing between them in two small movements.  Harry's other hand was still cupping Draco's jaw and he could feel fingers clutching tightly at his shirt.

 

The world and all its problems suddenly seemed a very long way away.  Harry wondered vaguely why he had been worried about facing his friends and stating what he wanted in life.  Everything that threatened to disturb the beautiful peace between them slipped away and vanished as he lost himself in the sweet perfection of Draco's mouth.

 

 

 

Two days later, Harry left the Manor.  He was under strict instructions to come back as soon as he could and had every intention of doing so.  Now secure that Draco returned his affections, Harry felt confident in informing Kingsley Shacklebolt that he had no desire to become an Auror and tell his friends that he was now living at Malfoy Manor.

 

Narcissa and Lucius had been delighted and pleased, respectively, on being told of the budding relationship between Draco and Harry.  Draco was sure, he told Harry privately, that his mother was already thinking about their wedding.  In response, Harry just kissed Draco and said she could plan whatever she liked; he would be happy as long as Draco was there with him.

 

The day before he left had been largely spent smooching with Draco all over the Manor and gardens.  They had spent the morning indoors but were forced outside by Marionetta, who followed them from room to room, complaining that Draco had stolen Harry from her and watching their kisses with rather more interest than a painting should.

 

‘What did I do to upset you?’ Harry asked as they sat together under a large copper beech.

 

‘What?’ Draco asked drowsily.  ‘You haven’t upset me.’

 

‘No, I mean around the time Charlie came.  You were in a really foul mood and I thought I must have done something.’

 

Draco lifted his head from Harry’s shoulder and looked embarrassed.

 

‘Oh,’ he said.  ‘That.  Well, you see, I thought you and he...  But then Marionetta told me he had a boyfriend and...’  He trailed off and glanced up at Harry’s face.  Harry was smiling affectionately.

 

‘No worries there,’ he said, sliding an arm around Draco’s shoulders.  ‘Charlie’s like a brother; there’s never been anything between us.  I prefer elegant, slender blonds with grey eyes.’

 

Draco gave a soft laugh and relaxed against Harry.

 

‘You’re a smooth talker, Harry.’

 

 

 

The morning Harry left, at breakfast, Narcissa had been at pains to stress how much they had enjoyed having Harry stay with them.  When she turned to Lucius to back her up, he had sniffed haughtily and said,

 

'We still have a lot of work to do, so don't think of running off, young man.'

 

Draco had smiled and not said anything but there were a thousand promises of happiness in his eyes.

 

 

 

 

Harry's first stop had been the Ministry, where Kingsley Shacklebolt had said he was not surprised Harry no longer wished to be an Auror, although it was a great pity.  Harry felt a lot better about his decision when Kingsley reminded him that an Auror whose heart is not in the job is a danger to himself and to others and then wished him well with his life.

 

His friends were not so easy.  He had expected their reactions but it didn't make them any easier to cope with.  Ron was furious that Harry should even consider associating with the Malfoys and went into a sulk when he heard about Harry's Auror decision.  Harry thought that a large part of it was jealousy at Harry not having to earn a living and another part insecurity over losing Harry's friendship.  He hoped it would blow over, like most of Ron's tempers, although he knew Ron and Draco would never be best friends.

 

Ginny was more upset than ever to find Harry was in love with Draco, upset more about the fact that it was not with her than Draco's surname, and Harry found her almost impossible to talk to.  She kept asking him if he was sure it wasn’t just an experimental phase he was going through and then looking at him with large tearful eyes and a wobbling lip.  He found himself thinking longingly of Marionetta.

 

Hermione was the hardest for Harry.  He had hoped she would have calmed down a bit from her earlier bullying and be ready to see reason but she had decided that Harry's main crime (apart from his immaturity and irresponsibility in running away) was that he had betrayed her.  Quite how he had done this, he was not sure, but Hermione evidently felt she should have been kept fully informed of his whereabouts.  She also lectured him at length on the benefits of working, not just swanning around Malfoy Manor.  This, he was positive, was entirely down to jealousy, since he had described the Manor's library in detail in the hope it would win her over.

 

It was a relief for Harry to get back to Grimmauld Place that evening, even devoid as it was of his blond bombshell.  He Flooed Charlie and was soundly congratulated on 'taming his dragon'.  His own relationship seemed to be going very well and he was in a boisterous mood, teasing Harry constantly with a variety of dragon-related jokes, most of them rather crude.

 

 

 

The next day, Harry went out first thing and bought a compartmented library trunk and then instructed Kreacher to pack all the books in Grimmauld Place into it.  Having made sure Kreacher understood exactly what he wanted and that he hadn't left any get-out clauses, Harry went out again, this time to meet Luna and Neville for lunch.  Neville was as supportive as ever, although he expressed some surprise at Harry's choice of partner.  Luna claimed not to know what Harry was talking about when he thanked her for her suggestion about the book and looked at him in the fond way one does when faced with a close friend who has had a particularly strange idea.

 

After lunch, Neville accompanied Harry on a quick shopping trip, largely because Harry pleaded for his help in finding some really special plants to take back for Narcissa.  They eventually satisfied Harry's requirements in a shop he had never seen before called Humphrey's Herbarium, where he managed to purchase several unusual plants, including a new variety of narcissus.

 

After that, all that was left was finding a present for Draco, which stumped Harry.  Neville pointed out that presents weren't absolutely necessary but Harry was adamant that they were and that he was going to find a really super gift for his boyfriend.  Having walked up and down Diagon Alley several times, Harry suddenly caught sight of a painting in the window of a small gallery.  It was a rocky landscape, at first sight unpopulated, but on closer inspection proving to contain a black dragon that moved around, hiding behind boulders and peering out at the passers-by.  It was perfect for Draco and Harry paid the exorbitant price happily, explaining to Neville as he did so the problems of having a Malfoy portrait in your bedroom.  Harry hoped that, in future, he and Draco would be able to kiss, and more, without constant oohs and aahs from Marionetta.

 

 

 

On returning to Grimmauld Place, Harry found he had a visitor.  Hermione stood up from the sofa as he entered the drawing room and they looked at each other in silence for a minute.  Finally she sighed heavily.  She had the air about her of a mother frustrated with her disobedient child.

 

'I don't fully understand why you ran away as you did and I certainly can't see the attraction of the Malfoys but I'm sorry you felt you couldn't talk to me about your problems.  Surely a sensible, mature conversation would have been better than running away?  We are supposed to be adults now, Harry.'

 

It was a start and certainly more than Harry had expected right away but he wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily.  He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her, aware that he had picked up certain Malfoy expressions during his stay.  She flushed and looked slightly less sure of her ground.

 

'I hope we can still be friends, Harry,' she tried again, the supercilious tone dying away.  'You must realise it will take all of us a while to get used to your new... situation but I'm sure everyone can get on if they make an effort.'  She fidgeted slightly as he still didn't speak.  'I know sometimes I can be a bit...'

 

'Pig-headed?' Harry put in.  She grimaced and twisted her hands again.

 

'But it doesn't mean I don't care about you, because I do.'  She looked up at Harry pleadingly and he softened.

 

'I know you do, Hermione,' he said.  'And I know you only want the best for me.  But you have to let me decide what that is.’

 

‘And what if you don’t know what’s best for yourself?  You can’t expect me to just stand by and do nothing.’

 

Harry’s voice hardened almost imperceptibly.

 

‘Maybe I'll get it wrong sometimes but I'd rather make my own mistakes than yours.'

 

They stared at each other, neither wanting to back down, but eventually Hermione nodded, obviously not convinced but not arguing anymore, and he pulled her into a brief hug.

 

'I have to get back to the Manor now,' Harry said once he had released her, 'but I'll owl you in a couple of days and we can get together and talk some more.’  He played his trump card.  ‘Perhaps you can visit me there; I’m sure you’d be interested in seeing the library.'  She nodded again and forced a smile onto her face.

 

'I really do hope you'll be happy,' she said as she walked over to the fireplace.

 

'I already am,' he replied and she disappeared into the green flames.

 

Harry was glad she had come over, even if she hadn't yet accepted his independence from her, and he found himself hopeful that Ron, in particular, would also settle down in time.  For now, though, more pressing matters engaged his mind and he called Kreacher and informed him that they would be going to Malfoy Manor to live there for the foreseeable future.  This cheered the house-elf up considerably and he was for once silent as he gathered together Harry's trunk, the library trunk, Narcissa's plants and the carefully wrapped painting.

 

Harry Apparated to the gates and found Kreacher had arrived at the same moment as him.  The gates opened readily at his touch and he hurried up the drive, Kreacher trotting along behind with a stream of parcels floating alongside.

 

Draco had evidently been waiting for Harry's return, for the front door opened as he approached and Draco flung himself into Harry's arms, covering his face with kisses.  It was with some difficulty that Harry got them both, along with Kreacher and the parcels, into the house, since Draco wouldn't stop kissing him for a moment.

 

Lucius and Narcissa met them in the main hall and Harry presented Lucius with the library trunk and Narcissa with the plants.  She gave a delighted cry and ordered Kreacher to bring them into the garden and help her plant them, which he did, mumbling happily all the while.  Lucius was examining the books eagerly, picking out several that his library was lacking, and then Levitating the whole trunk into the library to examine in greater detail.  Left alone together, Harry and Draco indulged in several minutes of languid kissing before they separated and spoke at the same time.

 

'I have something for you.'

 

'I have some news.'

 

They smiled at each other and then Harry motioned for Draco to go first.  Draco's smile widened impossibly.

 

'You know I sent my book off to a publisher the day before you left?'  Harry nodded.  'Well, it's been accepted.  The editor said she really liked it and that "epic historical adventures with dashing young heroes are very popular at the moment".’  He smirked.  ‘I wonder why that could be.’  Harry chuckled and hugged him tightly.

 

'I’ve no idea.  That’s wonderful, though; I knew you would be a hit.  But I thought publishers took ages over reading and accepting manuscripts.'  Draco rolled his eyes.

 

'You're a wizard, Harry.  Have you never heard of the Quick-Read spell?  It lets you skim through a book or manuscript so you can see if there's anything worth reading in greater detail.  It's widely used in research but publishers have their own version which is designed to filter out anything unsuitable for them.'

 

'I've never heard of it.  I don't think Hermione's ever mentioned anything like that.’

 

‘Well,’ Draco admitted reluctantly, ‘I’d never actually heard about the publishing version before and I did expect it to take much longer to hear back.’  Harry ruffled his hair, laughing when Draco squeaked and batted at his hand.

 

‘Anyway, congratulations.  I seem to have a very talented boyfriend.'  Draco snuggled up to him.

 

'And don't you forget it.  Maria, that's the editor, said she thought it could even be adapted to a Muggle audience and sold as fantasy.  You should have seen the look on Father's face when he heard.  He didn't know whether to be horrified or incredibly smug.'  There was a pause as they savoured the feeling of each other's presence.  'What were you going to say before?'

 

Harry pulled back and gestured to the wrapped painting.

 

'It's just a small present.  Have a look.'

 

Draco eagerly unwrapped the painting and gasped when he saw it.

 

'Oh, Harry, it's gorgeous!'  He turned with a mischievous grin.  'Is this to replace Marionetta?'

 

'Well, I'd rather not have her watching when I do unspeakable things to you,' Harry replied, watching as Draco's eyes darkened with anticipation.

 

'Perhaps we can move her down here to the hall so she can watch people coming and going.  I agree we don't want her watching us coming.'  He moved back into Harry's arms.  'Thank you, Harry, it's beautiful.'  Harry kissed the end of his nose.

 

'You're beautiful.'

 

 

 

That night, having successfully transplanted Marionetta down to the hall without offending her too much, Harry and Draco lay together in bed for the first time.  Harry found himself falling in love all over again as he explored Draco's body, memorising every perfect inch of skin and every sigh and moan.

 

The tight heat that surrounded him when he finally joined them together was almost unbearable and Harry wished he could stay inside Draco forever.  More than the sensations assaulting his nerve endings, though, it was the look of total adoration and happiness on Draco's face that pushed Harry over the edge, clutching at his lover and feeling him writhe in ecstasy beneath him.

 

They remained clasped tightly in each other’s arms for several minutes, breath coming in sobs as they recovered slowly.  Eventually, Harry pulled out slowly and moved to lie by Draco's side, still holding him close, and nuzzled affectionately into his silky hair.  His eyes caught sight of movement on the wall opposite and, in the moonlight from the open window, he saw the painted dragon take to the air, soaring through its own night sky with all the freedom Harry was now feeling.

 

'You know,' he murmured softly into Draco's hair, 'you'll soon be even more famous than me.  There will be people sending you love letters from all over the world because of your writing.'  Draco raised his head and gazed at Harry.

 

'I don't care about anyone else,' he said.  'I'll be happy as long as you love me.'  Harry felt his heart swell with emotion.

 

'You know I do,' he whispered fervently.  'I'll even send you love letters if you want.'  Draco shook his head, his face now buried in Harry's chest.

 

'No, just tell me.'

 

'I love you.'  The arms around him tightened.

 

'Again.'

 

'I love you.'

 

'Again.'  It was a mere wisp of breath now but Harry heard and knew he would obey its command as long as he had life in him.

 

'I love you.  I love you.  I love you.'