Author's Note: Slightly longer than I've been managing lately, and apologies, the extra length is plot rather than greater smut. I just can't resist the chance to make things go right for poor Harry, for a change! Enjoy!

Harry sat at the top of the Astronomy Tower, gazing out over the moon-silvered landscape.

"Thinking of jumping Potter?" a voice drawled behind him. Draco's platinum blonde hair shone from the shadows, before his form coalesced.

Harry glanced at the other teen for a moment, then his attention went back to the view. "Why give anyone the satisfaction?"

Draco settled beside him. "You really think anyone would be?"

"You want the list?" Draco gestured for him to proceed with eloquent fingers, causing Harry to huff out a soft laugh. "Fudge, Umbridge, Skeeter, Professor Snape, you, Tom, numerous Death Eaters, quite a few of the Slytherins…I feel as if I'm missing someone obvious."

The blonde fought back a smile. "Well, you can cross me off that list," he stated, causing Harry to turn to him full on, the centre of the brunet's attention for the first time. "My life would be far too boring without you in it." Harry snorted, and turned back to the view. "As to the others, I'm quite sure that those of my House, while they love to hate you, would much prefer you to live. So much easier to 'loathe' someone still living." He noted the sidelong glance. "Fudge is such a spineless sycophant that I can't imagine why he'd be first on your list. Given how she worships the ground he walks on, it's obvious that Umbridge is so unbalanced that she can hardly matter. Skeeter, while able to milk your demise for years-" Harry snorted again, and Draco continued without a pause "-would sooner you live so that she can spin tales for decades to come. My Godfather would despise you more if you died; for we both know how difficult it is to banish ghost – whether anyone else can see them or not."

There was silence for a moment. "And?" Harry prompted.

"And?" Draco echoed, voice challenging.

"You didn't sound finished."

That time Draco did smile. "And do you really care what the Death Eaters think?" He let that settle for a moment. "If anything, I would have thought their ire would have the opposite effect."

Harry smiled wryly. "What about Tom?"

"Well the only Tom I know of is the owner of the Leaky Cauldron, and I can't see any reason why he would dislike you."

Harry laughed hollowly. "You really have no clue, do you?" he asked softly, turning to face the blonde fully. "One day I will tell you about Tom," he spoke. He wrapped his arms around his stomach. "I can't face it now." He locked gazes with the blonde. "Make sure I tell you before you, or anyone else you care about, contemplate becoming members," he beseeched. Draco nodded solemnly.

Harry turned back to the view, and silence settled between them again. "So why are you here?" Draco asked softly.

"To distract myself," he replied so quietly Draco almost had to strain to hear, "since my regular avenues have been cut off." His haunted green eyes met silver. "People say that demons have more power in the dark," he murmured, "but it's not that they shun the light, it's that you have greater distractions from them in the day."

"What demons plague you?" Draco asked softly. The brunet remained silent. Draco met Harry's eyes seriously. "I am plagued by what I might have to do, what I have already done, to protect those I care about."

Harry placed his hand over Draco's, and turned back to the view. "Let me tell you a story," he murmured, peripherally aware of the blonde nodding. "There was once a boy, who grew up in the house of a nosy, mean-spirited Aunt, a narrow-minded, short-tempered Uncle, and a fat, spoilt cousin. The boy was quiet, shy and small for his age, a fact that was underscored every time he stood next to his cousin.

"The boy had gone to live with them from such a young age, that he knew no other way of life, and all he knew of his parents was what he was told; that his mother was his Aunt's sister, who had married the worst sort of man, and the two of them had died in a car crash.

"The boy was given his cousin's old clothes to wear, forced to help around the house, and disassociated from his family members every chance they got. The boy bore it all, for he had no idea that he didn't, shouldn't, have to. He took the belittling comments, the punishments, and even learnt not to outshine his cousin in school, carefully walking the line between not doing better and not doing so badly his guardians were contacted.

"The boy had no idea that he was special, if anything he thought the opposite. Although, he did notice that strange things occurred around him, and he was punished for almost every instance, even though he had no clue that he was the one causing them to happen.

"One day, for the first time ever, the boy received mail. A letter, that would change his life forever, in an envelope addressed: Mr H Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

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The following night, Draco found Harry at the top of the Astronomy tower once more. He settled beside the brunet. "Will you tell me about Tom, please," he requested.

Harry continued to look over the landscape, but nodded. "Tom was in school over fifty years ago. By all accounts, he was intelligent, charming, a rising star. He was a Prefect in the Slytherin House and excelled at everything he did. The only person that was not charmed by him, was his Transfiguration teacher, Professor Dumbledore.

"Tom came to school sure in his strong magic, with no clue as to his family heritage. He had been given his letter while living in an Orphanage in London. He was most displeased when he learnt that the father he had been named after was a muggle."

Harry glanced at Draco, curious as to whether the blonde had gotten the significance. "Tom Marvolo Riddle remade himself, and created an anagram out of the letters of his birthname: I am Lord Voldemort."

"The Dark Lord is a half-blood?" Draco asked softly.

"Yes," Harry stated surely. "His hatred of muggles stems from the treatment he received in the muggle orphanage he grew up in."

"How do you know this?"

"He told me," he replied softly. "I met a younger form of Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, who told me everything, because he planned to kill me." He blinked. "I may have actually been dying at that point, it's a bit hazy. Though given I was poisoned with Basilisk venom, it probably isn't surprising."

"Basilisk venom?" Draco repeated. "How are you still alive?"

"Fawkes," Harry replied, lips quirking up ever so slightly.

"Phoenix tears," Draco sighed.

"You got that quicker than Tom," Harry murmured. "It wasn't until after I began to heal that he remembered. Then again, if he hadn't forgotten, he would have stopped Fawkes from crying on my wounds, and I would have died. Hm, he has a habit of that."

"What do you mean?"

"If he hadn't been determined for Quirrell to grab me, then Quirrell wouldn't have died and he wouldn't have lost a host. If he hadn't been determined to kill my mother to get to me, I wouldn't have lived. And the most recent, if he hadn't been determined to defeat me in a duel, for all to see, then I wouldn't have escaped. Not complaining," he stated with a small smile. "Haunted though I might be, I am grateful he continues to make prideful mistakes that result in my still being alive."

"Even with all the horrors you've lived through?"

"I have given up on the all-too-fleeting dream of getting to live with my godfather, but eventually the horrors will end." A wry smile curved his lips. "If it weren't me, then someone else would be suffering. I cannot think of any other student who could bear this without breaking, except for you, and you have burdens enough without mine."

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Harry walked into the Great Hall for breakfast and found a greater number of whispers flying around than normal. "What's happened now?" he asked as he settled between the twins.

"Well no one-" Fred began.

"Knows for sure-" George continued.

"But big changes are occurring, little brother," they finished together.

"The Prophet not mentioning them then?"

"There hasn't been any," the twins replied in unison.

"You don't know anything, do you Potter?" Draco drawled without his usual bite. "All issues of The Daily Prophet have been suspended, pending investigation."

"Investigation for what?"

"Your ignorance is astounding," he stated, again without bite. "When involving a news publication, an investigation can only mean publishing falsehoods without a retraction, making a publication because of bribery or coercion, or exploitation of a minor."

Harry's eyebrows reached his hairline. "Exploitation of a minor?"

"Of course. Wizarding children are precious, and as such should be protected in all ways. Once you reach the age of majority, you lose the protection, but before then, any publications need the express permission of a child's guardian in order to publish."

"And when they publish without permission?"

"The publication itself, the writer, and their boss all face consequences that can range from fines to incarceration."

Harry didn't pay much attention to the increased whispers, though he did notice the satisfaction in Draco's eyes.

"Prongslet?"

Harry's eyes widened, his teeth scraped his bottom lip, as he cautiously turned. "Sirius!" he cried, throwing himself into the open arms of his grinning godfather.

"The best part is yet to come," he whispered, turning Harry enough so that they both had a clear view of the teachers table.

Umbridge cleared her throat. "I really-" she began, standing. The rest of her words were drowned out as the doors to the Great Hall slammed open. A stream of Aurors flowed into the room, and wrapped Dolores Umbridge, former senior undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, in magic-proof ropes. Kingsley Shacklebolt cast a silencing charm for good measure, then nodded to Sirius, before turning his attention to overseeing the removal of their captive from the grounds.

"Good?" Sirius asked softly.

"Great," Harry replied beaming.

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Harry slipped through the Slytherin common room, deftly avoiding obstacles by the minimal light of the banked fire, and wended his way to the fifth floor of the Boy's Dormitory. On light feet, he made his way over to, and through, the closes curtains of Draco Malfoy's bed.

"Harry?" Draco spoke, blinking awake.

"Er…hi?"

Draco chuckled and cast privacy and silencing charms. "You make your way into my bed, and then you get sheepish?"

"I needed to talk to you, and figured you wouldn't be in the Astronomy Tower tonight."

"Given your recent good fortunes, I had thought you would have no need of it," he responded gently, patting the space beside him.

Harry settled on his side facing the blonde, atop the covers. "Well, I now have my regular distractions back," he spoke softly. "Thank you."

"For what?"

Harry gave him a look. "Do you really think I wouldn't figure out it was you?" he retorted. "Especially since all these changes, improvements in my life, occurred after our talks."

Draco smirked. "I knew you would," he admitted. "You might be oblivious at times, and have a tendency to act or react without all the information, but you are far from stupid."

"I also realise that…several changes would be advantageous to you as well, but I still appreciate everything."

Draco nodded, then scrutinised his drawn face. "Do you want to stay?" Harry blinked. "I wouldn't make the offer unless it was genuine, I'm not that cruel. Well?" he asked, eyebrows quirked.

Harry nodded and slipped beneath the covers. He settled on his side, facing away from the blonde. Draco curled around him, surrounding the brunet with his warmth, and wrapped a possessive arm around his waist. Both fell asleep within moments.

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Harry's visits became frequent. Every time nightmares or his demons plagued him, Harry contacted Sirius – as he had before Umbridge's interference – then instead of slipping back upstairs, he made his way to the Slytherin common room and into Draco's bed.

Harry couldn't help but smile, when he remembered that Draco did little more than curl around the brunet, and went back to sleep. He rolled over to face the blonde, his lips curving in response to Draco's warm smile. "Morning."

"Good morning," the Slytherin responded.

"Want me to go?" Draco tugged him closer. "That a no?" he asked, amused.

"Absolutely," he stated. "Take advantage of a Saturday morning when neither of us have Quidditch practise," he urged with a grin.

"All right," he replied, snuggling beneath the covers. "I can't remember the last time I had a lie-in," he murmured softly.

"It doesn't happen often to me either," Draco replied. "I have to ask, is it true you asked Cho Chang to be your date for the Yule Ball?"

"It is," Harry replied pulling a face. "It just came out!" he insisted, making Draco laugh. "But she was already Cedric's date," he stated, with a nonchalant shrug. "Is it true you're engaged to Pansy Parkinson?"

"No. Nor am I betrothed to or dating her. I asked her to be my date, because I knew she wouldn't mind, and wouldn't have greater expectations than what I would be willing to do," he elaborated.

"The Patil twins were just happy to have a date," Harry murmured. "Though I could have done with practise dancing, and it would have been nice to have some forewarning."

Draco grinned. "Well, you won't have to worry about that again. It was the first Ball Hogwarts had had for quite some time."

Harry shuddered. "Good."

"You can face down a Basilisk, but the thought of a Ball makes you shudder?"

"There wasn't anyone to see me make an idiot of myself with the Basilisk, I just had to try and survive while getting the job done. At Balls there are hundreds of people scrutinising your every move. Personally, the Ball was the most nerve-wracking part of being a Champion."

Draco smiled. "Tell you what, if another Ball, or any other event that involves formal dancing, appears in your future, I'll tutor you on dancing."

"Thank you!" he replied with a relieved sigh. "Any chance you could extend that offer to potions?" he asked with a grin.

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The door of Harry's bedroom at Grimmauld Place opened, and Harry sat up. He smiled as Draco slipped inside and shut the door quietly behind him. "Hi," the brunet greeted.

"Hi," he replied, noting the details of the room as he made his way to the bed. "Mind if I join you?" Harry lifted the covers, making the blonde grin. "Not very Gryffindor colours," he teased.

"Being a Gryffindor doesn't automatically make my favourite colours red and gold, you know," Harry replied primly. "It's actually silver, and I have an emotional attachment to green."

"The colour of your, and your mother's, eyes," Draco breathed.

"Exactly. So?"

Draco grinned. "Oh, I just thought I'd return the favour, now I have the chance," he teased.

"Draco?" The blonde waited patiently. "Why do you keep helping me?" he asked softly.

"Do you really need to ask me that?" The brunet nodded. "Oh Harry," he breathed, and closed the distance between them for a sweet, chaste kiss the lion instantly returned. He cupped the brunet's cheek as he pulled back. "Answer your question?"

Harry's expression turned pensive. "I think I might need a repeat, just for clarification," he added with a teasing smile.

Draco chuckled, but complied, still keeping the touch chaste.

"Just one more?"

Draco chuckled wickedly. "I think I need to be more blatant," he remarked in a drawling purr. Harry blinked and found himself pulled flush against the blonde. His lips parted, and Draco plundered his mouth, exploring and claiming in equal measure.

He only raised his head once he had made the brunet moan. "Clearer now?"

Harry licked his lips. "Much," he breathed. "Good thing I wasn't attempting to date anyone," he remarked with a grin. "I doubt your Slytherin instincts could have stood it."

"I wouldn't advise any more talk like that, kitten, unless you want me to spend the rest of the night claiming you," he drawled.

Harry shivered. "Rain check?" he asked hopefully, causing Draco to chuckle wickedly once more.

"Absolutely," he promised, smiling into the brunet's wild hair, the moment he had curled around him. He adored these moments, especially the trust the brunet exhibited just getting into this position, let alone falling asleep.

Harry's breathing levelled out, and Draco gave into the urge for sleep.

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The click of a camera woke them. "Happy?" Harry groused sleepily.

"Ecstatic," Sirius replied with a grin. "Breakfast is in half an hour. Be late and I'll come get you!" he announced as he swept from the room, closing the door behind him.

"And you wanted to live with him?"

Harry laughed. "You get used to him. He would have planned to wake me, and seeing us together, he wouldn't have been able to resist the urge to take a photo." He shrugged and stretched his arms above his head. "Don't let the immaturity fool you, he's observant and shrewd too. You should see him and Remus together, it's entertaining."

Draco sat up, and turned Harry's chin toward him, taking his mouth in a claiming kiss. Harry pressed closer, shifting needily with a moan. "Ease down, kitten," the blonde breathed, stroking his hair soothingly.

"Please," he whimpered.

"Are you sure?"

"Please Draco," he entreated with a whine.

The snake pulled his lion back into another heated kiss, plundering his mouth as his long, eloquent fingers slipped beneath his waistband and wrapped around Harry's hardened length. He drank every moan of his lion as he stroked him to completion, their looming deadline enough of a deterrent not to linger.

He retreated into kissing his lion chastely as he gentled him through his orgasm. Pink tinged his cheeks as Harry blinked back to awareness. "Relations generally don't tend to progress quite that…quickly."

Harry shrugged. "All of our heat had to go somewhere," he pointed out. "But if you want to backtrack-"

Draco cut the brunet off with gentle fingers to his kiss-bruised lips. "If you have no regrets, then neither do I," he stated firmly.

Harry kissed the blonde's fingers. "None."

"Good," Draco replied with a grin. "Though finding the time at school might prove difficult."

"I might have a solution."

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Hermione blinked when she found Harry dutifully completing his homework before dinner. "Harry?"

"Hm?" he responded, briefly glancing up before flicking through pages.

"Is there any reason you've started your homework without nagging?" she asked gently.

"I have plans this weekend, and if I don't do my best to tackle the daily workload, I'll be swamped by Friday night," he replied, scrawling several more inches.

"Hm," she hummed, then cast a Silencing Charm around them. "Would this have anything to do with how you've been sleeping better?"

"Yes," he replied slowly, glancing at her thoughtful expression cautiously.

"Is he treating you well?" He nodded vehemently. "Good." Harry blinked. "Honestly Harry, you can be as bad as Ronald! I've been expecting this for some time."

"I don't know if everyone else will be as accepting," he murmured.

"I know Fred, George and Neville are. If anyone gives you a hard time, I've got some Hexes I've been meaning to practise," she stated.

Harry laughed. "What about your Prefect duties?"

"Would it be my fault if they were stupid enough to get in the way of my practising?" She rested her hand over Harry's. "Some things are more important than rules, or pre-conceived notions, and anyone who doesn't agree with me, will soon learn the error of their ways."

"Thanks 'Mione," he spoke appreciably.

"Need help with anything?" she asked dropping the silencing charm.

"Where was that section about historical Mandrake usage?" he asked.

"Here," she murmured, flicking to the appropriate passage.

"Thanks," he replied, skimming the passage and returning to his scribbling, a smile tugging the corners of his lips.

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After dinner on Friday night, Harry led Draco up to the seventh floor, and walked back and forth three times. The door opened to a room of silver and green walls, with a large, comfortable sofa in front of a roaring fireplace, as well as a four-poster bed.

"Okay?" Harry asked nervously.

"Yes kitten," Draco replied, wrapping a possessive arm around the brunet's waist. "It's a good thing I know these are your favourite colours," he teased, "or else I'd think you were catering to my Slytherin tastes."

"Perish the thought," Harry replied deadpan.

The blonde chuckled, and guided his lion to the sofa, smiling when the brunet snuggled close. "How long were you thinking of us being here?"

"Well, since neither of us has Quidditch practise this weekend…until Monday morning," he replied slowly. Draco laughed. "It's the first time I'd need to leave, how about you?"

"What about food?" Draco asked with a smile.

"I have a solution for that."

"Surely the room doesn't create it."

"Of course not," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. "I just happen to know a House Elf that would bring me a feast if I asked – even if he had to cook it himself."

"You've thought it through," Draco murmured, running his fingers through Harry's wild hair.

"I have been known to," he replied, lips curving. "When something is important."

"Important to you, am I?" he breathed.

Harry nodded. "But what about-"

Draco cut him off with gentle fingers to his lips. "We can face every difficulty together," he remarked sincerely.

"Together," Harry repeated with a beatific smile.

The blonde smiled widely in return. "How are your demons?"

"Better."

"I thought they might be. You've been coming to me earlier this week."

Harry blushed. "That's because I've been waiting for my dormmates to fall asleep, then coming to join you." He smiled softly. "I don't know if being happy gives them less power, or if that now I'm happy what Pads has been saying is finally getting through," he murmured, tapping his temple with a crooked finger.

The brunet grinned at the blonde. "About that rain check…?"

Draco laughed wickedly and guided his lion to the bed. With a flick of his wand, they were both nude. A possessive smirk curved his lips as Draco's eyes swept over Harry from head to toe. It widened as he noted that Harry was reciprocating. "Any requests?" he purred.

"Claim me," Harry breathed, eyes dark with lust.

Draco closed the distance between them, claiming his lion's mouth as thoroughly as he planned to lay claim to his body. He would ensure that not only Harry, but everyone else, would know that Harry belonged to, and could never belong to anyone other than, him.