A/N: Ummm... This started as a short little drabble thing ... I swear! And then it just kind of ... got away from me... So it should have relatively fewer chapters.. But you never know! Enjoy!

Warnings: Slashy Slashy goodness! Also, gratuitous use of curse words... umm, the non-magical variety :)

Ron stomped over to where Harry was sitting trying to put his latest altercation with Malfoy out of his head and get on with his Transfigurations essay. Ron slammed his book bag on the table. "Harry, what the hell are you doing?"

Harry squirmed. "What do you mean?"

Ron growled at him. "You know exactly what I mean! First it was all, he's a bloke… Then it was all, he's Malfoy... Just snog him and get it out of your system already!"

Harry's jaw dropped. "Ron! I can't believe you're saying that!"

"Yeah, well... If it's really a phase like you keep insisting, then just go for it and get it over with... I mean, come on mate! This is your third week in detention... And we've only been here a couple of months!"

Harry wrinkled his brow and cocked his head, wondering what was going on.

Ron huffed and dropped into the couch opposite Harry. "Hermione's doing her nut over this whole business you know."

Harry grinned. That explained a lot. 'Mione had probably been giving Ron an earful.

Ron growled again. "Seriously Harry. I mean it. You need to sort this out so my love life can get back on track. Hermione's either too busy studying or too busy worrying to want to fool around. And that's just not on, mate."

Harry swallowed his snickers and nodded.

Whatever might have been said about Malfoy's cowardice, it took balls to come back to the school he had helped destroy. Sheer bravado in the face of that much hatred was something Harry was very familiar with. It had been what defined his life for eleven long years before the Wizarding world had arrived like his salvation. And having watched Malfoy's very correct posture and head held high attitude throughout his family's trial and the ensuing chaos, Harry couldn't help the pangs of empathy he had felt for the boy. Looking at Malfoy's public persona, no one would guess he was the boy haunted by nightmares. Harry didn't think anyone but he had seen that side of Malfoy... And probably he wouldn't be the sole exception had Malfoy realized that Harry was in the habit of following him around on his nightly circuits of the castle.

The pilgrimage always touched all the different sections of the castle that still gave Harry nightmares... The Room of Requirement... the Astronomy Tower... the Great Hall... And it always ended in the Owlery... Harry didn't really know why...

It was in the Owlery that Malfoy would spend hours starring out at the inky sky night after night. And it was here he sometimes fell asleep to be startled awake by nightmares, a half finished scream caught in his throat.

The first time it had happened, Harry had nearly had a heart attack.

That said, Harry found himself in the unique position of being fascinated by the blonde rather than loathing him... as most people were prone to assume.

The problem actually arose when Harry first came face-to-face with this new Malfoy. He really didn't know how to react to the quiet, neutral, almost submissive public persona that Malfoy had adopted. It wasn't real. There was nothing of the real passion that had driven Malfoy so much of his life. It was just all ... wrong.

It was yet another change in a world of change, and at that first Hogwarts meeting after the dust had settled, Harry just hadn't been able to take it. For some reason, he was desperate for this one thing to have been the same. That if this one thing had remained the same, then all the rest of the changes wouldn't matter. He'd snapped a little bit.

Okay... A lot. He'd lashed out, unprovoked, at an unsuspecting Malfoy. Right there in the Great Hall, without paying heed to where they were ... or even how his actions would be construed by the rest of the population of Hogwarts really. He'd just wanted to feel normal.

It had definitely felt normal to earn that first week of detention. He'd winced at the look of disappointment on McGonagall's face but he couldn't bring himself to regret his actions. Flexing his knuckles as they stiffened from the battering they'd taken in their attempt to knock out some of Malfoy's teeth... watching Malfoy dab gingerly at his bleeding lip as Parkinson fussed with a handkerchief... Half listening to Hermione hiss furiously at him for being a thoughtless berk... Harry had felt the Earth stabilize below his feet for the first time since that fateful day at Hogwarts.

That first day back had kind of set the pattern for things.

Harry would continue to hassle a neutral Malfoy at every opportunity that presented itself. And it was really quite baffling for the rest of the school to watch. Harry didn't seem to have a problem with any of the other Slytherins – not even the ones who had done far worse during the war. In fact, he was even starting to make quite good friends with some of them. Blaise Zabini and he could be seen with their heads bent together over a DADA text around the castle quite often these days, and people were getting used to the sight of Harry sitting beside a hunkering Goyle in the library.

It was just Malfoy he seemed to have a problem with. Their friends had taken to subtle maneuvering in order to try and keep the peace... Especially given that the Eighth Years were sharing the same dorms rather than intruding on the younger years. Quick thinking and judicious placement so that the two were never close enough to row had so far prevented them from coming to blows in the Common Room at least. The entire grade could not have been more grateful that McGonagall had decided to allow them two people to a room, in deference to their being young adults, rather than traditional dorms. No one quite wanted to imagine what exactly would have happened if someone had tried to get Harry and Malfoy to room together.

And yet Malfoy had continued to infuriate Harry by refusing to react. It was something Harry had taken as a personal challenge. Ron's love life aside, the way he and Malfoy had been going at it since the beginning of their eighth year at Hogwarts, something had to give.

Little did he realize that it was going to happen as soon as the very next day.

Malfoy suddenly brought both his forearms crashing down on Harry's, breaking his hold on his collar. He then grabbed the front of Harry's robe and slammed him against the nearest wall.

Hard.

"Fuck you! Why the fuck won't you leave me the fuck alone? What the fuck to do want from me, Potter?"

Harry grinned. "This!" He grabbed the front of Malfoy's robes in return and yanked him forward, hissing right in his face. "Fight back, Malfoy."

Malfoy blinked and tried to retreat but Harry wouldn't let him, tightening his hold even more. Suddenly he smirked and spat in Malfoy's face. "Coward."

And there it was. The reaction he'd been waiting for all these months.

The grey eyes lit like storm clouds in a tempest, and in the next instance, a fist connected with Harry's nose. Listening to the satisfying crunch of bone, Harry sucked in a breath through his mouth, trying to think through the pain and shoved back. This was what he'd wanted. It was time to give as good as he got.

Some ten minutes later, Harry and Malfoy sat facing each other, at opposite sides of the hallway, panting as each tried to catch his breath.

Harry mopped at his dripping nose with the back of his hand, wincing as the move jarred his shoulder. He'd wrenched it rather badly.

Malfoy pressed a handkerchief to a cut on his eyebrow, trying to stem the flow of blood dripping into his eye.

That had almost been cathartic. Brief, but fierce and vicious.

"Seriously. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Harry grinned. "dothing dow. I just couldn't stand your 'I'm so polite I don't feel a dhing facade' ... Made me want to put a fist through your teeth every dime I saw id."

"You're fucked in the head, you know that?"

Harry snorted, and then winced immediately after. Not the brightest idea with a broken nose.

Malfoy pulled out his wand. "Episkey."

Harry squealed as his nose cartilage realigned and snapped into place. "Fuck! What the hell, Malfoy?"

"You may be content to spend the rest of your life in detention, but I am not going to get punished just because Wonder Boy Potter has a masochistic streak."

Harry snorted again, wriggling his nose. It was still tender but everything seemed to be in its right place. Harry didn't think he'd ever allow anyone other than Hermione to perform healing spells on him outside of the hospital wing, but Malfoy appeared to have done a decent job with a minimum of fanfare. Who knew?

"Want me to heal yours?"

"Yeah right I'm letting you anywhere near me with a wand."

"Unless you want to go to Madam Pomfrey, it might scar you know." Harry gestured to his own forehead. "With a little work, I think we could even make them match."

He grinned at the horror twisting Malfoy's features and pulled out his wand.

"Don't you dare! I'll get Pansy to take care of it."

Harry shrugged his good shoulder and put away his wand again. "Suit yourself." He climbed to his feet, joints popping a bit, then held out a hand to help Malfoy off the floor.

Malfoy stared at the hand and then at Harry's perfectly agreeable expression. "Seriously. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Harry shrugged again and turned away. He grinned over his shoulder as Malfoy hauled himself to his feet. "See you around, Malfoy."

"I just don't understand him, Pansy! He's fucked in the head!"

Pansy hummed soothingly as she dabbed aloe on the irritated skin of Draco's forehead. "Of course he is darling. We all knew that."

"I mean it this time, Pans. He's a blithering, fucking cunt to me all year.. He roughs me up at every opportunity he gets.. He made me bleed today.. And then he comes over all friendly and can I help you up and see you around.. I mean, what. The. Fuck?"

Pansy couldn't help herself. She giggled. "Maybe he has a crush on you."

Draco's head snapped around. "Don't you fucking start with me, Pans. I have enough insanity in my life at the moment."

"It would make sense though.. If you really think about it."

"Merlin's shriveled balls, Pans! How the fuck would that make sense? In what universe would that make sense?"

"He's a hormonal teenage boy.." Draco glared. "Granted he's fucked in the head.. But seriously, Draco. If he really did have a crush on you, how do you think that conversation would have gone? After all the shit we've pulled over the years, he can hardly just walk up to you and ask you out. He probably doesn't know what to do with himself."

"I cannot believe I'm having this conversation! Where the fuck did this come from anyway? Shit, Pans. I'm starting to think Potter might not be the only person fucked in the head."

Pansy sprawled across Blaise's bed, her head and feet hanging off the sides, hair brushing across the floor. "Hmmph. Yeah well .. whatever. Think Blaise has any new mags under here? I'm finished with all the old ones."

Draco snorted as he stripped out of his dirty and bloodied robes. "I'd ask you to stay out of Blaise's porn collection, but it's a lost cause."

Pansy flashed him an upside down grin before going back to her rummaging. "All the crap they have for women has all the lovey dovey shit all over it. None of this good hardcore stuff."

"Where is the traitor anyway?"

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! YOU DID NOT..!"

Draco and Pansy glanced at each other before both of them scrambled for the bedroom door. A door that nearly beaned them as it swung open, admitted Blaise and Goyle, and then slammed shut again in quick succession.

"You do not want to go out there." Blaise panted while Goyle nodded enthusiastically.

Pansy pouted. "Why the hell not? It sounds like it could be fun."

Blaise just shook his head. "Seriously. Potter just got in, all bloodied and roughed up and grinning like a loon to boot. Granger is doing her nut and no one wants to be caught in the cross fire."

Pansy bounced and clapped her hands. "Is she doing her shrill shrew impression? Oh fun! Come on Blaise, lemme through. I wanna see this!"

Blaise shook his head again. "She's way beyond that. She's gone subsonic. Potter may have no eardrums left once she's done with him."

Draco snorted and headed back to his armoire. Considering they could hear her four stories up from the Common Room.. through a solid wood, closed door.. He didn't doubt it for a second.

"Shit!"

Draco turned around to see Blaise holding up his bloodied robes. "You're the one he fucked up!"

Draco raised his brows. "Isn't it always?"

Blaise just shook his head and dropped the robes again. "You'd think. But Potter's refusing to admit to anything at all. He keeps saying 'he fell'. I think that's making Granger more pissed off than anything else."

As if on cue, the shrill voice sounded through the corridors again. "YOU'RE NOT EVEN SORRY!"

Goyle squirmed where he was perched on Draco's bed. Blaise winced. Draco merely raised an eyebrow.

Pansy giggled. "She's got a pair of lungs on her huh."

"I've said it once. I've said it a million times. Fucked. In. The. Head."

Pansy flounced over to Blaise's bed and resumed her rummaging. "Oh shut it Draco. They make life interesting. I mean, can you imagine? We're not in the dungeons, and there's so few of us this year. Without some drama it would be total dullsville around here."

Blaise mimicked Pansy's pose. "True that. But sometimes I wish the drama wasn't quite so retarded. Potter's a nice enough bloke." Pansy and Draco both snorted, and Blaise grinned. "No he is. Have a civil conversation with the guy and he's so normal it's frightening. But for some reason Draco's like this one little corner of madness that he's absolutely refusing to budge on. Makes you wonder."

"I think he has a crush on Draco."

Draco groaned. "Pans! Not that fucking lunatic theory again. I don't even know where you got the idea to begin with."

Pansy ignored him and looked between Blaise and Goyle. "Think about it. It makes perfect sense." She counted off on her fingers. "One. Draco's hot. He knows it, but that doesn't make him any less hot. Two. Potter's been obsessed with him for over seven years now."

"Pans. He hates my guts. I don't think that's the kind of obsession that leads to a crush for fuck's sake."

"Hey.. obsession is obsession. And you know what they say – there's a fine line between love and hate." Draco opened his mouth to protest but Pansy cut him off, holding up a third finger. "Three. If Potter is lusting after Draco – I refer you to point number one – then what is he supposed to do about it? They've never had a normal relationship. He can't just ask him out like a normal person." Pansy grinned. "And let's face it. Potter's not exactly normal either, so who knows what he acts like when he has a crush on someone."

Draco groaned and buried his face in a pillow. He didn't know why he was bothering to protest even. When Pansy got an idea stuck in her head, she was like a dog with a bone, refusing to leave well enough alone. Now that the idea of a Potter lusting after him had taken her fancy, there was no talking her out of it.

Blaise snickered. "You know, Draco, Pans might be onto something here."

Draco didn't bother removing his face from the pillow. "Wipe that shit eating grin off your face before I do it for you."

Blaise snickered again.

It might have that he'd managed to mess himself up yet again that had set Hermione off. He knew she worried that all his 'extracurricular' activities over the years would finally start to take their toll.

Or it might have been the fact that he refused to admit that he'd been in a fight when his state at the time clearly said otherwise. Hermione hated to be lied to. Especially as blatantly as that.

Or it might have been the fact that he hadn't shown a shred of remorse. In fact, he'd been downright cheerful.

Harry ruefully admittedly that it was probably a combination of all three. Harry winced as he toweled his hair dry. His ears were still ringing from the shouting at 'Mione had given him earlier. He idly wondered how long it would take for them to stop ringing.

The bedroom door opened. Ron sauntered in, kicking the door shut behind him, and flopped down on his bed.

"You've really done it this time, mate. She's really upset. It took me a whole hour to calm her down. And I don't think she's there yet, she's just holding it in better."

Harry winced. "I know. I'll make it up to her. Now's not the time though. I don't think she really wants to see me right this minute."

"You got that right! What the hell happened anyway? You had more blood on you than you had cuts, and you managed to fuck up your bad shoulder again."

Harry studied Ron for a moment, then shrugged. "Malfoy."

Ron groaned. "Damn it, Harry. Please tell me he's not lying bleeding to death in some corridor somewhere."

"Of course not! I wouldn't do that!" Ron gave him a skeptical look and Harry blushed a little. "Okay, so I might beat the ass to within an inch of his life, but I'd make sure he was taken care of properly afterwards!"

Ron shook his head. "Harry, mate, you have any idea how fucked up that sounds?"

Harry snorted and tossed his towel at the laundry hamper. "Story of my life. But yeah.."

"So.. What happened with Malfoy then?"

Harry grinned as he pulled on his socks and sat cross-legged on his bed, facing Ron. "He fought back, Ron. It was brilliant!" Ron snorted. "No, really. This whole time he's been hiding behind that holier-than-thou blank shit faced mask thing he does. Pissed the fuck out of me. But not today.. We got into it proper." Harry's grin stretched bigger. "Broke my nose even!"

Ron jackknifed into a sitting position. "Your nose! Please tell me you didn't try to fix it yourself!"

Harry laughed. "Relax. Malfoy fixed it." Ron's jaw dropped and Harry laughed again. "He didn't really give me a choice about it. Just pulled out his wand and fixed it. Said he didn't want to end up in detention just cause I was an ass."

Ron flopped back on to his pillows. "I guess that makes sense. In a weird twisted kind of way.. Right. So you beat up Malfoy. He breaks your nose. And this is a good thing because..."

"He's finally acting normal again. Malfoy not reacting to being taunted was just all wrong. It didn't fit. Besides, no one is that composed all of the time. His saint-act was getting old."

"Right. Malfoy's back to being the snarky git he's always been. Again: This is a good thing because..."

"Because we can probably have a conversation now without me wanting to bash his teeth in, that's why."

Ron sighed. "Not that I didn't already know this or anything, but just thought I'd let you know Harry.. You're a bit mental, mate."

Harry grinned, flipped him off and went back to rummaging for his Charms essay due the next day. He didn't care what anyone said. Today had been a good day.

Harry smiled and dumped his school bag on the floor as he flopped down into the seat next to Goyle and sprawled across the library table dramatically, his arms spread eagle, one cheek mushed into the table, and peered up at Goyle through his bangs. "Hey, Greg. How's it hanging?"

Goyle grinned at the drama and shrugged. Harry and Pansy were the only two people in Hogwarts who called him by his given name. Everyone else just called him Goyle, and in many ways he preferred it that way.

Harry jumped up and then bounced in his seat a couple of times. "Excellent! Shall we carry on with Charms today then?"

Harry spread out his things around him and shifted closer to Goyle so they could look at each other's parchments as they worked. He found the big Slytherin's presence soothing. The other students in the school still tended to give him a wide berth, his reputation as a brute having preceded him. It was the reason Harry had first flopped down next to him. He had wanted everyone to leave him the fuck alone, just for a little while, and sitting at Goyle's sparsely populated table in the library had seemed the only way to achieve that. Goyle hadn't objected. In fact, he hadn't said anything at all. Just quietly continued to struggle with his work and let Harry carry on as he pleased.

Having finally found a corner of Hogwarts where he was just allowed to be, Harry came back the next day. And the next. And the one after that.

It was Harry in fact who had first initiated conversation, making a suggestion for Herbology when he'd seen Goyle struggling. Goyle's grateful, albeit brief, smile had encouraged him to continue to offer his two cents whenever he thought necessary. Now, they tended to sit elbow to elbow at the table so that they could read each other's work over the other's shoulder as they worked, pausing to consult when something was confusing or new. The arrangement was probably skewed in Goyle's favor but Harry didn't mind. He still remembered the quiet awe in Goyle's eyes when he'd done well in Transfiguration for the first time that year. It was the least he could do in exchange for the kind of peace Goyle's unassuming company gave him. He was always more open and exuberant when spending time with Goyle. He reckoned his over the top behavior was to compensate for Goyle's quiet demeanor, but Hermione theorized that it was probably because Goyle didn't judge him at all. Not for any of his strangeness or awkwardness or the awe he still felt towards things in the magical world that were commonplace for others. She said it allowed Harry to relive his childhood and to finally be the excited little boy who had first come to the Wizarding World without having to shoulder the burden of saving it at the same time.

Harry had a theory too. That he really needed to find a way to break Hermione of the habit of worrying about him all the time. She'd gotten into the habit of worrying constantly and keeping an eye on his "psychological well-being" over the last few years – and Harry was the first to admit that she had had just cause. But the habit had become so ingrained that she couldn't seem to stop, not even when there was no immediate imminent threat looming over Harry.

"Heard you messed up Draco."

It was said without inquiry or accusation, merely a stating of facts. Harry winced a little regardless. So maybe he'd given Hermione some cause to worry about his mental health – the situation with Malfoy a case in point. He shook his head and dismissed that train of thought. When he gave himself half a chance, he could always come up with dozens of reasons why he had reason to feel guilty because of his friendship with Hermione. And he always found himself in a funk that only Hermione could cure with one of her indignant lectures about idiocy and did-he-think-she-was-mindless-to-blindly-follow-along and where-did-he-get-off-taking-all-the-credit... But not today. He was in too good a mood to let it be spoilt by thoughts of an impending Hermione breakdown.

He beamed up a Goyle, who had waited patiently to allow Harry to puzzle through whatever he was thinking so he could start the conversation whenever he was ready. That was another thing that Harry loved about Goyle. That he wouldn't rush you just because he wanted answers or even conversation. His grinned widened as he thought about that. Yes, he did. He did in fact love Gregory Goyle, and he could say it without wincing to himself, though Ron would probably choke when he found out. In fact, Harry would tell him just to see him sputtering.

"Yeah. We got into it earlier... But it was good, cause he fought back this time."

"Pansy thinks you have a crush on him."

Harry's jaw dropped. Then he snickered. "Good."

Goyle looked at him and blinked slowly. "Good?"

Harry smiled crookedly, "Yeah. Good. Malfoy and I have a lot of issues... and for the first time today I felt like maybe we can work through some of them at least. And that's just one of the possibilities. If things work out, I wouldn't mind finding out if there's anything there."

Goyle thought for a second, then nodded as if he'd settled something with himself and turned to their heretofore neglected essays.

"Hey Greg?"

Goyle looked up.

"You know I love you right?"

Goyle's eyes widened. He was just starting to wonder if Harry had been drinking when he laughed and gave him a lopsided grin. "Not like that. There will be no propositioning of the boyfriend variety. But, yeah... I'm glad we became friends." Shadows crowded his eyes. "I'm glad Malfoy saved you. And I'm sorry I couldn't save Crabbe."

Goyle looked at him for a minute then carefully placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "It's okay. It wasn't really your fault you know." Harry's grateful smile had him blinking away stinging in his eyes. Considering why he and Vince had been in the Room of Requirement to begin with, he wondered at Harry's ability to ignore all the good he had done and focus on all the things he considered his personal failures. "I'm glad we're friends too."

The shadows retreated as Harry's grin turned mischievous. "You mind if I go around announcing that to the world?"

There was that stinging again. He was feeling the same awe he felt the first time Harry Potter decided to sit at his empty table, the first time he'd offered advice for his homework, without judgment and without an expectation of anything in return, the first time Harry had praised his work, the first time Harry had turned to him in frustration when they were working and then listened to his explanation patiently. Him. Harry had actually listened and then scooted closer so he could peer at his parchment as he worked. Goyle had felt a peculiar kind of pride at being in the rather unexpected situation of having someone ask him for explanations regarding academics, or having someone copy his work. And now Harry wanted to claim him publically. Not that he'd made a secret of the fact that they spent time together. But now they would be friends. Officially.

Goyle squeezed the shoulder he was holding once before dropping his hand. "Sure. Course."

Harry's grin persisted as they diligently worked to complete their essays for the next day's class.

"Harry, where've you been mate? Hermione was just about to send out a search party."

Harry grinned apologetically before slipping into place across from them, Goyle quietly taking the seat next to his. "I've been on a journey of self discovery."

Recognizing the slightly mocking tone of Harry's voice, Ron's face lit up. "Discover anything interesting? Sex? Drugs? Magic?"

Hermione snorted softly.

Harry glanced at the other Eighth Years at their table whose ears perked up as they tried to eavesdrop discretely. Another one of McGonagall's brilliant ideas, or at least he thought so, was to give the Eighth Years their own table in the Great Hall. There were few enough of them for the table to fit nicely into a corner of the Hall. They were far enough away to have privacy, but close enough to not be completely isolated from everyone else. And this way Harry didn't have to go table hoping when he wanted a quiet meal with some of the new friends he was discovering this year.

Harry grinned again, adopting a slightly pompous, declaiming tone, one he'd heard Percy use when spouting about rules and Ministry procedure at Weasley family gatherings. "Indeed I have, Ronald Bilius. I have discovered something much more potent than any of those things."

Hermione looked up and give him a small smile. She loved it whenever he was in his playful, mischievous, slightly silly mood. She called it his 'puppy-mode'.

Well aware that he had an audience now, Harry continued, his back painfully straight, one hand on his chest. "Is it sex? No it is not. Although it can lead to the expectation of sex. Is it drugs? Alas, no such escape for the intrepid hero. Although it can induce the same heights of euphoria and the same depths of despair. Is it magic? It is most assuredly not. And it most assuredly is."

Hermione's lips were twitching in earnest now, her eyes clear and twinkling with delight in a way that Harry realized he hadn't seen in some time.

"Canst thou guess whereof the wondrous thing I speak?"

Ron snorted into his mashed potatoes and then imitated his pose. "Enlighten us, O Wise One."

"Ah my young apprentice. Such eagerness should be rewarded. And so I shall tell you what I have discovered." Harry paused, and then leaned in as if sharing a secret. Everyone around him leaned forward reflexively to hear better. "I, Harry James Potter, eldest son and heir of James Potter, have on this day – Tuesday – discovered... Love."

There was snorting from the boys at the table, and just a little bit of wistful sighing from some of the girls.

Ron was one of the snorters and Hermione frowned at him before turning back to Harry. "Love, O Wise One? What is it that you have discovered about Love?"

"Love, my apprentice, I have found is a commodity that, as precious as it is, should never be hoarded. So it is not so much Love that is discovered today, but rather whom it is that I do Love. And I have decided that in order to no longer waste any of the precious time that has been given to us, I shall tell this person that I love about the Love that I have discovered."

A murmur ran down the table at this declaration.

Harry bowed his head as if in sorrow then. "Indeed, I have not been able to previously express my Love for this person in any adequate manner. And before our time runs out, I would like to tell this person that I do indeed Love them dearly."

Hermione's smile had turned soft. She suspected that Harry wasn't entirely jesting in his grand gesture. "And why haven't you been able to tell them before, O Wise One?"

Harry leaned forward secretively again. "You see, my apprentice, this person I love, this man-" Harry paused for the murmuring to quiet down and watched Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. He waited until the blonde sneered at all this foolishness and took a sip of his pumpkin juice before he finished his sentence. "Why, this man resides in Slytherin."

Ron choked on his turkey roast. Nott, sitting opposite Malfoy, ended up with a face full of pumpkin juice. Goyle helpfully thumped anyone within reach who appeared to be having trouble swallowing. Pansy immediately started shrieking and crowing while thumping Blaise repeatedly. "I knew it! Didn't I tell you? Didn't I? I KNEW it!"

Harry wanted to dissolve into the helpless giggles that were threatening, especially when the horrified looks that Ron and Malfoy wore were nearly identically in their eye popping imitation of guppies. But he figured he needed to finish what he had started.

Climbing slowly to his feet, he schooled his features into solemnity, and turned towards the Slytherin side of the table, all of whom appeared to be holding their breath in anticipation.

Harry reached out and placed a hand on Goyle's shoulder. "Gregory Goyle, of the House of Slytherin, I declare that I love you like a brother of my heart. Would you honor this love by accepting it?"

Harry chanced a peek at his audience at this point. Some of them looked like they were going to have a heart attack. Goyle slowly stood to his feet, careful not to jostle the much shorter Harry's hand where it rested on his shoulder. Then he imitated the pose, resting his hand on Harry's opposite shoulder. "I accept."

Harry abandoned the pretense and gave a firm squeeze to the solid muscle in the shoulder he was holding and smiled up at Goyle. Just by the shape of how his lips were curving, Harry could tell it was one of the smiles that Hermione called his 'special people' smile. Normally, he just scoffed at her, but he admitted that if ever there was a time to produce a special people smile, now would be it. As much as some of this had been for entertainment, he was glad he'd done it regardless, because Goyle was special, and he should be told.

They both sat down to finish their meal, Harry perfectly content to enjoy the almost strangled conversations happening around him. Everyone was clearly dying to have a good gossip in, but no one wanted to upset Harry or Goyle, both of who could be unpredictable when it came to this sort of thing.

Harry could see the way Hermione was looking at him though. They were going to Talk later. He was fine with that. He had to tell her he loved her too after all.

Pansy was pacing back and forth, waving her arms and wringing her hands while she muttered under her breath. Blaise and Draco exchanged a look across the room from where they were lounging on their beds. Draco was hoping Goyle wouldn't take too much longer to show up or Pansy might take it upon herself to go hunt him down.

She turned around to watch silently as Goyle came into the room and made his way to perch on the edge of Draco's bed. There was a moment or two of silence, before: "He loves you? Greg, what the hell? Did you know he was going to do that?"

Goyle shook his head, then ducked a little bit. "I didn't know he was going to do that. Well, I mean, he told me before.. and that he was glad we were friends.. and if it was okay if he told people that we were friends now.. But I didn't know he was going to do that."

The room was quiet as everyone digested that.

Finally Theo opened his mouth to comment, then hesitated. Pansy gave him a look and he sighed. His voice was soft when he finally got the words out. "I reckon that means he really meant it. You know.. when he said that he wanted to forget all the shit that's happened cause of the Dark Lord and to get on with the business of living." He looked around at everyone else in the room. "I mean.. I knew he thought he meant it.. but you know that's been said before cause it's the politic thing to do, but no one really actually means it."

Draco snorted. "I don't think Potter would know politic if it bit him in the arse. He doesn't say shit if he doesn't mean it."

Pansy gave him a sharp look but then ignored him in favor of resuming her pacing.

Daphne jumped up suddenly and gave Goyle a hug. "Well I think it's wonderful Goyle." She smiled at him. "He seems like he would be good friend to have."

Goyle smiled back and nodded. "He is."

Draco was still thinking about that conversation when he crawled into bed that night. Potter was a good friend to have. All else aside, no one could fault his treatment of his friends.

His gut writhing a bit as he thought about the smile Potter had bestowed at Goyle at dinner. In spite of himself he had been warmed by it – which was just ridiculous considering that Potter hadn't even been looking in his direction.

That smile was probably the reason none of the Slytherins had questioned Potter's declaration too much. His tone had been a little mocking, a little pompous while he'd been putting on that ridiculous show, but when he'd actually looked at Goyle, his smile had been in his eyes rather than just on his lips. Any Slytherin worth his salt recognized that kind of sincerity on the rare occasion they encountered it. And Potter's smile had been ... special ... for lack of a better word. It was rare enough to find that kind of open sincerity at all.. even more precious when it was directed at ex-Death Eaters and Slytherins ... especially now that none of them would tarnish its value by scoffing.

As Draco stared into the darkness of his canopy he swallowed a lump that tasted an awful lot like envy.

Ta-da! That's all for now folks :)

Next chapter coming soon ... Please Read & Review! (Incentivize!)