This is my first attempt at writing Harry/Draco, a non-canon pairing (I believe that's the correct term). That said, please be gentle in your reviews. Enjoy!


"Why didn't you tell Bellatrix?" asked Harry, perplexed. "You knew it was me, yet you didn't say anything. Why?"

Draco froze, wand aloft, as he was forced to confront a truth about himself.

Because I love you, he thought. And my supposed hatred was just a mask, designed to disguise my true feelings for you.

But then, the moment was gone and he was fighting for his life.

Trust the Weasel and Granger to ruin everything, Draco thought distractedly, amidst dodging various piles of junk. I could have easily disposed of Crabbe and Goyle, leaving Potter—no, Harry—to me. I could have confessed and Harry would save me from—

"Don't kill him!" Draco shouted upon noticing how his cronies were aiming for Harry, looks of fiendish glee in their eyes at the prospect of disposing of the Dark Lord's nemisis. Draco may not have been able to show his true colors yet, but he would protect Harry at any cost, even if all he could offer in his defense were words.

For a time, Draco lost sight of the Golden Trio. But then he saw them running, closely followed by a glow that soon morphed into a dragon. Crabbe had released Fiendfyre!

Now who's the prat? Draco thought idly, all while looking for a means of escape.

It soon became pretty obvious, though, that there was nowhere to go but up. So, Draco set about to climb one of the many mounds of furniture.

It's no use, thought Draco as he watched Crabbe lose his footing and topple down…down…down…to be consumed by the cursed flames. We're all done for.

Then, from out of nowhere, there appeared three riders on brooms.

Over the roar of the fire, Draco heard someone, who he later identified as Weasley, yell, "If we die for them, Harry, I'm gonna kill you!"

They're coming back to save us! Draco realized. Why?

He had no more time to ponder Harry's actions, though, as the Chosen One swooped down, hand outstretched to grab him and Goyle.

Sweat ran in rivers down Draco's face, mingling with the dust that remained from rummaging through the Room's hidden artifacts, as he clasped Harry's hand. His hold on Harry slipped, though, and Draco felt sure that he'd be left to die by fire and that Harry, Weasley, and Granger would save themselves rather than attempt a hopeless rescue.

But he was wrong. Harry had swerved mid-air and was turning back with a look of determination etched on his face. This time, before sticking out his hand, Draco hurriedly wiped it on his pants.

They made contact!

As Harry pulled him onto the broom, Draco relished in their closeness, however fleeting it may have been, and gripped Harry tighter.

Once out of danger, though, Draco was overcome by a sudden bout of insecurity coupled with the blood-chilling fear of rejection. Shooting Harry one last desperate glance, he ran, rather than stay to thank him for overlooking their past and saving him.

Having rounded several corners, Draco paused to catch his breath and contemplate what had just happened. Harry Potter had saved him, Draco Malfoy, his sworn enemy!

I owe him my life, Draco realized. How can I ever repay him?

He was soon drawn into battle though, and forced to push any thoughts regarding Harry Potter to the back of his mind, focused as he was on surviving one minute to the next.


Draco had lost track of everything—where he was, what time of the day it was, even what year it was. All he knew was that he had to keep fighting, for Harry's sake, if nothing else.

Then he heard a commotion in the courtyard.

Voldemort! he thought with sudden dread.

He followed his classmates outside, where he saw the giant, Hagrid, holding a prone body, and Voldemort, pacing back and forth in front of his minions.

"Harry Potter is dead!"

There were shouts of disbelief, Draco's one of many.

It can't be, he thought, sinking to his knees in despair. How can the boy—no, the man—I love be gone, forever?

Dimly, he heard Weasley say, "He beat you!" and various other cries of support on Harry's behalf. Fighting back the grief, Draco rose to his feet and lent his voice to the cause.

Then, Draco heard his name being called.

As if from above, detached from his body, Draco watched his parents beckon him forward, urging him to join their side. It felt wrong, though, to leave his classmates—and Harry—alone, and it was then that he knew: it was time to make his stand.

"No!" he said forcefully, his voice carrying in the silence of the courtyard, for the first time defying what he'd always seen as his fate. He thought he saw Harry twitch in Hagrid's arms at his declaration, but he dismissed it as his imagination, a delusion caused by battle fatigue.

Raising his wand in preparation of the fight to come, Draco planted his feet firmly on Hogwarts' ground, the only place where he'd ever felt truly at home.

"So be it then," said Voldemort in a deceptively calm voice, smooth as silk.

As he raised his wand to cast the Killing Curse in Draco's direction, though, he was suddenly distracted, for Harry had leapt out of Hagrid's arms and was on the move.

"He's alive!" was the cry that spread throughout the crowd of both Light and Dark forces.

Draco let out a breath he hadn't even been aware that he was holding and joined the throng of spectators watching the chase between Harry Potter and Voldemort.

When the two disappeared, Draco's heart leapt in his throat at the thought of what might be taking place, out of everyone's sight, and what the outcome might be.

They soon reappeared, though, and a ring was formed around the duelers, complete and utter silence falling as all strove to hear what was being said.

As Harry circled Voldemort, Draco feared for him, more than ever before. He seemed to be deliberately taunting Voldemort, and that never ended well, for anyone.

Draco was momentarily distracted upon hearing that the Elder Wand had given its allegiance to him, and that his being overpowered that day at the Manor had caused the wand to fall into Harry's possession.

As the two wands connected, there was a collective gasp of awe at the sight of dawn breaking, spreading the light of a new day over the world at the exact moment that Voldemort, the most feared and revered Dark Lord, met his end.

There was a moment of silence, and then cheers broke out.

Draco couldn't believe that it was over. All the pain and fear he had both suffered and inflicted was through.

There was a pounding in his head and a ringing in his ears. Through the haze, though, he saw his father raise his wand and aim for Harry's unprotected back.

Draco acted without a moment's hesitation.

"Protego!" he yelled with all his might, at the same time running forward to stand in front of Harry so that any further attacks would hit him instead.

"What are you doing, Draco?" asked Lucius. "Would you bring further shame on the family name?"

"You've done that yourself," Draco replied, his nerves on edge and honed to sense the slightest movement of those in front and behind him, "by serving one who only leaves death and destruction in his wake. As for me, I've chosen love over hate. Goodbye, Father."

And with that, Draco cast the curse that would end his father's life—Avada Kedavra.

A stunned silence followed.

Draco, for his part, hardly spared Lucius a final glance before turning to face Harry, effectively shutting the door on all his father had stood for and attempted to impart on him.

"Harry," he said, so quietly that one would have had to strain their ears to hear. "Everything I ever did, I did for you. I love you, Harry Potter, and that's why I concealed your identity from my family—to protect you."

His confession complete, Draco was surprised when, instead of turning tail and running, Harry launched himself at him and wrapped his arms so tightly around Draco that he was sure his ribs would crack.

And then, in the rubble surrounding them, they pulled back simultaneously, only to lean forward and have their lips meet in the middle.


It was some time later, and the two had found a deserted corridor, relatively undamaged, where they could talk.

"When?" Harry asked, and Draco knew he was referring to his revelation on the battlefield.

"I honestly don't know," he replied. "It's been coming on so gradually that it's hard to pinpoint the exact moment when I knew I was in love with you. But, if I had to guess, I'd say it was around the time of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I was so worried for you, and when I asked myself why, I realized that it was because I loved you. But I was scared of being rejected again. You'd already done so once, our first year, and that hurt my pride. So, instead of acting on my feelings, I chose to insult you, figuring that if you hated me, at least you'd be thinking of me, which was all that mattered to me at the time, even if your thoughts of me would be less than pleasant. I was also seeking to protect you from Lucius's influence. If we'd been friends, even lovers, Lucius would have tried to deliever you to V-Voldemort through me!"

Harry leaned closer to plant a light kiss on Draco's lips.

"Shh, it's alright. I understand your reasoning perfectly. And for the record, I love you too."

Draco smiled at hearing his sentiments returned.

"What about you? When did you realize that you loved me?"

Harry sat in silence for a moment, thinking of how best to respond. "I suppose it was the same for me as it was for you. I didn't dare hope that you returned my feelings, so I pushed them away and tried to focus on having a relationship with Ginny. When Ron, Hermione, and I were brought to Malfoy Manor, though, and you claimed to be 'unsure' of my identity, everything came rushing back. It was then that I knew, without a doubt, that I loved you."

It was Draco's turn to steal a kiss.

When they'd pulled back, slightly breathless, Harry spoke again, "Dray, you have to believe me when I say that I desperately wanted to take you away from Malfoy Manor with me. But I was afraid for your safety. Had I shown the slightest partiality to you, Voldemort would have exploited that and used you to get to me. I couldn't have stood for another of my loved ones to have been hurt or killed because of me."

Harry looked up to discover Draco staring at him in amusement.

"What?" he asked.

"You called me 'Dray.' "

"Oh, is that not alright?"

"No, it's fine. In fact, I love it. You just surprised me, that's all."

They shared another passion-filled kiss before Draco drew back to address Harry. "I love you, and would have bravely born any punishment that my family and Voldemort thought fitting had it ensured your safety."

"You're wonderful, you know that?" said Harry.

"It has been mentioned, occasionally," replied Draco with a smile.

"Prat."

"Git."

The 'name war' continued, though neither cared about the outcome. It ended with a kiss, and all was well now, for the Dark Lord had been defeated and Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice, had found true love.