The war had begun. Or, had it never really stopped? Yes, there was a war going on out side of the four walls of the small house, too. But, that didn't matter to him at the moment. The only thing in his eye line was a man that made his blood boil.
He had landed two solid punches before he was pushed off and thrown over to the side.
"What the hell is that matter with you?!" The blonde groaned from him position on the floor.
"What is the mat-What do you think is the matter?! You're here. Isn't that enough?!" Harry threw a rag at him to stop the bleeding from his lip.
His cold eyes followed him as Draco rose to his feet, clutching at a chair to help him stand. He would probably have to look at his ribs later.
"Look, Harry it's not like we haven't had this same argument every week for the past year. So let's just skip to the part where you tell me how much you hate me and then throw me to the floor for a quick shag. I'm going to be late for work."
Harry's mouth dropped open to deny, but Draco was already unbuttoning his shirt and Harry found his mind had left him. Draco left for work on time with a few more marks that then he previously had.
"I-I…and you…we're not…I still…" Solidly his mouth snapped closed and formed a harsh line even as a blush spread up his face. "I hate you." Draco reached for him again, meeting resistance, but knew it was just for the sake of his pride.
"Yes, yes, I know Potter."
Somehow as they tumbled to the floor, it never struck him as odd that the blonde didn't say it back.
Seeing him lying in his own blood, watching it stain his hair, Harry realized that he still didn't love the dying man. But it wasn't for him. This moment was for Draco. So he whispered the lie he knew the blonde had longed for. The thing he had always held inside himself as they rolled around on the floor in passion. The words he knew Draco would never say until they were said to him first.
"I love you, Draco." His voice was not a hoarse whisper, as he knew it should have been when holding a dying lover in one's lap. It was as normal as ever, but Draco didn't notice. He didn't notice the slowing of his heart, nor the way the blood had stained his teeth and eyes. He only heard the words and breathed out.
Then, Harry was left alone, and he found that broke his heart more than who had just died and left him that way.
Everyone patted him on the arm and held in their condolences. After one unfortunate man was hexed clean out of the yard, they had all just given sad smiles and left, one by one. They thought he was too far-gone in his grief to take their pity. But, truth was, they were all just getting on his nerves. Acting like Draco had meant so much to them and they were at such a loss now that he was gone.
The blonde had only ever done two good things in his whole life, the first had put a death sentence on his head, and the second had carried it out. Harry had of course killed the Death Eater than had slain his fallen lover, but with less of a vengeance than he knew he should have. He imagined that even the man on the other side of his wand knew that when he cast the Killing Cure. Obviously he had been expecting something more painful for killing Harry Potter's Lover, however an accident it was.
That's all he had been after all. Once he betrayed the Dark Lord and had given them knowledge about the location of another piece of his soul, the world had forgotten about him. All, but Hermione…and Ron surprisingly. They had taken him into their home, albeit against Draco's will. But as he had a significant reward on his head, he had agreed.
To say that Harry had been less than thrilled was an understatement.
"Malfoy?! Are you bloody insane? He could kill you in your sleep!" He slammed his teacup down on the table, spilling it everywhere. Ron just sighed and stood to grab a towel. Hermione would kill him if it stained.
"Now, mate, calm down." He mopped at the mess carefully, trying not to provoke his best friend even more. When they had asked Draco to live with them, they knew Harry would be upset. They just didn't figure in how childishly he held grudges. "He's proved to us that he can be trusted. You should give him a chance."
"I did give him a chance, Ron, and he tried to murder Professor Dumbledore! Do you remember that?!" Ron just looked at him with a mixture of hurt and disappointment that Harry couldn't help but think how many times he'd seen the face on Molly.
"He's changed." His voice was quiet and when he saw a flash of blonde out of the corner of his eye, he knew why.
"Potter…" A softer voice called to him from the stairs. If it had been anyone else, Harry would have at least had the decency to look ashamed, or at least embarrassed. But, for Malfoy, he just gritted his teeth.
"I hate you, Malfoy." And everyone in the room knew he was telling the truth.
"No, Hermione, it's not that."
She reached out and placed her small hand on top of his. He watched her wedding ring from Ron sparkle in the light. It made his chest seize up and he let out a sharp needy breath.
"Harry, what is it then?"
"Its just…"He closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Draco had always made fun of him for that.
"It they bother you so much, why do you wear them?"
It was only after he died that Harry had taken his advice and gotten his vision corrected. It had just been a quick and painless spell, and Harry couldn't understand why he hadn't gotten it earlier.
No…that was wrong. He did know. And it had so much to do with a blonde man in his bed.
"Harry, why won't you get rid of these bloody things?" He reached up and pushed the glasses back up the other man's nose. The paintings on the wall were still swaying as Harry whispered a spell to fix the broken bedside lamp, destroyed during their passion. He knew that hovering over the blonde, he was completely vulnerable. His magic and his mind were completely open still.
"Why get rid of them? I like them." Harry rose an eyebrow, and pushed a splash of hair out of Draco's eyes. His eyes were bright and clear, and Harry had only ever seen them like that after and afternoon spent in bed doing things other than sleeping.
"But, I can't see your eyes…"he whispered cautiously, before blushing, but holding the other man's gaze "…when we make love."
He climbed off the bed and practically ran to the shower, forming a promise in his head. He would never take his glasses off ever.
"It's just…what do you do when….you fall in love with someone after they've died?"
He knelt at the unmarked gravestone in the city cemetery. They all knew that if they had put the Malfoy name on a grave it would only be matter of time before all a number of things were done to it. And, no matter his lack of love for the blonde, he didn't hate him…not then.
Not after he had…
"Draco…I'm sorry." he whispered, laying a rose on the ground. He was not above doing clichéd things for this man. "I'm sorry I didn't tell them."
The kitchen table was too small. In all actuality it was a normal size, but at seven in the morning it put him too close to a certain blonde. He could deal with having him in his bed if it fought off the nightmares in favor of more…pleasant activities, but not having to see him in the light of day over coffee.
"I hate you, Malfoy."
Draco sighed, resignation in his eyes, but looked at him anyways. "What for today, Potter?"
"What do you care, Potter?" His words were harsh and his eyes were ablaze with something that Harry didn't care to thing about. The cold silver had washed away as they stood alone in the lamplight of the port key hub. As much as he had done with the blonde, it still surprised him whenever that fire came into his eyes. It surprised him even more that it only came out for him. But what didn't surprise him was that Draco was not waiting for an answer. Instead he was striding down the road at a quick pace.
And it was not in the direction of their house. He had done something to piss the blonde off…again. It wasn't that Harry particularly cared why, but that he knew Draco would not touch him, or be touched, for that matter, until Harry apologized for what ever it was that he had done. But, this time, he honestly had no idea.
Running up to him, he grabbed the blonde's arm and swung him around. He could see the cold glare was firmly on his face, but the fire was still burning in his eyes.
"Draco, what did I do this time?" He jerked his arm out of Harry's reach and glowered at him.
"No, Potter this isn't like the other times. I'm not going to withhold sex until you tell me you're sorry, even though…" He sighed and some of the fire died in his eyes. "…even though we both know that you're not sorry at all."
Harry just stared at Draco, more confused than had he been asked to do complicated ballet move, in full dress. How had he known? They had only been together for a few months...or had it been years? Either way, it didn't make sense. How had Draco been able to tell those things about him? It wasn't like they were a real couple. They just slept together…in the same bed…every night. Slowly, the thought strangled his throat. Oh God…he knew they weren't real…but Draco, blind, lovesick Draco who took his touches at face value…didn't know that.
"I don't…understand." he stumbled out, choosing the safe answer. Draco cocked his head sadly to the side and sighed again.
"I know you don't." His eyes shone clear and Harry knew it wasn't from hate or passion. It was something much more rare than that. And for the first time he looked nothing like the old Malfoy Harry had know in school. Strong and cold and under control. The one before him was sad and vulnerable and…
heartsick.
"But, Harry…why do you do this to me?" His breathing was coming faster, and his tone more desperate. "When- when you know that I lov-" But he never finished. At first Harry thought it was because he was crying, but then his eyes went wide and he grasped Harry roughly before throwing him to the ground.
That was it. He couldn't deal with the blonde drama queen one more day. It wasn't like they were married. He couldn't just do what ever he wanted to him and expect him to just take it. He was the bloody boy-who-lived. And could have anyone in the wizarding world that he wanted. So, if he wanted to play rough, fine. Then Draco could deal to know the truth. He opened his mouth to yell, but a curse filled the silent void instead. It filled the space he had just vacated…and came into contact with a certain Malfoy's chest.
That night when the Aurors came to take the bodies away, Harry told them everything. How the Death Eater had come up on them in the dark. How he had killed Draco before Harry could stop him. How he had killed the other man before Draco had even hit the ground. Hermoine and Ron had hugged him and said it wasn't his fault. That Draco knew what a threat he was under when he switched sides. How he loved him and he wouldn't have wanted Harry to suffer too.
When Harry got home that night he broke every picture frame in the house. His hand had bled, but he knew it was no less than what he deserved. He had lied to his best friends and to the world.
Draco Malfoy had died a hero, protecting the wizarding world's hero. And the very moment that Harry was going to break up with him, he had been throwing himself in front of a painful death…for him.
He kept both truths to him self.
"He knew, Harry."
The brunette uncovered his tear-stained eyes and stared incredulously at his best friends.
"What? How could he?"
"He knew before you did, mate. Why do you think he stayed with you for so long?"
"It wasn't that long, just a few mon-"
"Seven years, Harry." He stared at his now cold tea.
Had it really been that long?
Their bodies were tangled together and Harry couldn't help but sink helplessly into the warmth of the body next to him. Silky hair swept gracefully under his chin as Draco placed a feather soft kiss on his Adam's apple.
"Harry?" His voice sent shivers up his spine. Unconsciously he pulled the other man closer and tilted his head so he could see his lover.
"Yea?"
Draco's eyes were soft and clear, and held something that Harry couldn't quite trace.
"Do you hate me?" Harry smiled and laid his head back down as Draco snuggled his way back under his chin.
He answered the same he did every night, when Draco asked the question. "Not just now."
He was so content he didn't even notice the heart-stopping grin that lit up Draco's face.
"Good." he breathed out, kissing his neck again before closing his eyes. They both lay still in the dark as slumber crept up. A soft whisper caught Harry just before he fell into sleep's arms.
"I love you, too."