***

See disclaimer in Chapter 1. I don't own 'em.

Don't forget to heap praise upon Avana65 making this story possible! And as always, I heart you Fae, catcher of my missing words and confusing pronouns.

***

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Draco sighed, pushing his homework away. Pansy had been clinging to him ever since his return from the Headmistress' office, and nothing he said seemed to convince her he bore no lingering ill effects from his fight with Potter.

"You should be asking Potter that," Blaise snickered, casting a glance across the room, where Ginny appeared to be trying to frisk the dark-haired wizard, no doubt searching for injuries. "Most of the blood was his, anyway."

Draco couldn't help but snicker at Blaise's words. He had gotten in a few rather good shots, but Potter had held his own. He had the bruises on his ribcage to prove it.

"But, Draco," Pansy pressed, oblivious to the way the blond's jaw tightened in annoyance. She lowered her voice and leaned in closer, her dark hair almost touching his. "He touched your Mark. I saw the look on your face. Did it hurt terribly?"

She rubbed at her own arm sympathetically, despite the fact that she'd never been initiated into the Dark Lord's circle. Among their Hogwarts brethren, that dubious honor had only fallen to Draco, Vincent and Greg. The Mark had been forced on Draco by his father, a desperate bid to show his own loyalty to Voldemort and keep his position as lieutenant. Vince and Greg, however, had joined willingly. Draco suppressed a shudder as he thought about his old friends, one of whom was dead and the other of whom was locked away in Azkaban.

"The Mark, Draco," Pansy repeated insistently, tugging on his left arm. He recoiled at the touch, tucking his arm closer to his chest.

"It's fine," he hissed, glaring at her. Blaise muffled a laugh with his hand, his knowing look making Draco flush.

"It was not fine. I saw you, Draco. Potter touched it and you –"

"Drop it, Pans," Blaise said, fixing the witch with a stern look that stopped her mid-sentence. She sighed, letting the other boy change the subject.

"So, who do you think will take Seeker now that Draco and Potter are out of the running?" he asked casually, and Draco jumped on the lifeline. He knew Blaise would question him mercilessly later, but it would be worth it if they could divert Pansy now.

"Well, Harper will probably go out for it," Draco said, tapping the end of his quill against his lips thoughtfully. "He's decent. The spot will probably go to the she-weasel, though."

Blaise nodded, looking over Draco's shoulder at the knot of former Gryffindors gathered near the fireplace where the willowy redhead and her boyfriend were holding court.

"Well, she is the captain's sister," Pansy sniffed, glaring at the back of Ron's head. He, Hermione and Harry had settled into an alcove in front of the large bank of windows after Ginny had finished examining Harry for injuries.

"I hate to say it, but she deserves the spot," Blaise said ruefully.

He smirked when the would-be Seeker in question turned, apparently feeling the heat of Pansy's glare and his appraisal. Ginny quirked an eyebrow at them challengingly, making Blaise wonder if there was more to her than her Gryffindor goody-goody reputation belied. Her boyfriend, on the other hand, glared menacingly at them, and Ginny rested a pale, slim hand against his chest when he would have jumped up.

"Gryffindors," Blaise sneered, turning back to his homework.

"Former Gryffindors," Draco corrected absently, licking his thumb and using it to turn the paper-thin page of the supplemental Charms reading he was engrossed in.

He didn't notice Blaise's small smirk at his words or the way Pansy's nose wrinkled with distaste.

"Whatever." Blaise rolled his eyes, returning his attention to his own enormous stack of homework.

***

Harry managed to fall into a fitful sleep sometime after 2 a.m., his Potions notes spread around him on his bed. His fight with Draco had been on his mind as he drifted off, as well as the conversation he'd had with Ginny after dinner about her strategy for Seeker try-outs.

He whimpered out loud when a familiar nightmare began. Harry twisted on the bed, clawing at his sheets as they twined around him, restricting his movement. In his dream, his arms were being restrained by the team of Snatchers, Greyback's hungry yellow eyes watching him interestedly, his fetid breath against Harry's cheek.

The scene dissolved into Malfoy manor, and Harry broke out into a cold sweat as Draco's face filled his mind, pale and terrified, recognition clear in his grey eyes even as he lied and said he didn't know who Harry was. The images picked up speed after that, flashing from Hermione's screams of pain to Dobby's outstretched hand to Colin Creevey's lifeless body and Fred's staring, dead eyes.

He reached a hand out when Ginny stepped into view, looking fragile and angry and absolutely gorgeous as she demanded to fight alongside him. Harry mouthed the words he'd used that night, reliving the moment. Instead of leaving her, though, dream Harry found himself pulling Ginny into his arms and capturing her lips in a desperate, searing kiss. Soft, pliant lips responded eagerly, molding to his as he deepened the kiss, opening his lips and allowing her tongue entrance, trying to fill the emptiness inside him.

Harry groaned, flipping onto his stomach and rutting his burgeoning erection against the soft mattress. In his dream, he mirrored the motion against Ginny's hip, his arms wrapped around her, keeping her close. Harry's eyes snapped open when he realized this couldn't possibly be Ginny, who was a full head shorter than he was. Instead, he found himself staring directly into tortured grey eyes.

Harry gasped, frotting harder against dream-Draco's thigh, a shudder running through him when he brushed against the outline of the other boy's erection. Far from feeling disgusted at finding himself in Draco Malfoy's arms, Harry felt his arousal surge, a thrill running up his spine as Draco bridged the gap between them once more and claimed his mouth in a brutal kiss.

Harry pressed himself harder against the mattress, his aching cock rubbing against the smooth sheet as he pistoned his hips faster and faster. His climax crashed over him in hot waves, his orgasm bringing him out of the last vestiges of sleep and leaving him awake, panting and spent, arms that had been wrapped around Draco moments earlier in the dream now clutching his pillow instead.

Harry blew out a breath, wincing when he noticed the cooling patch of sticky come underneath him. He rolled to the side, taking a moment to gather his wits before Summoning his wand and casting a Cleaning Charm on the bed, adding another to his sweaty body after a bit of consideration.

He collapsed back against the mattress, glaring weakly at the pillow he'd nearly crushed beyond recognition. He threw the offending piece of bedding against the wall, staring at the ceiling as he caught his breath. The nightmare had started as it normally did, but the bit with Ginny – and then Draco – was new.

Harry sighed. He'd known he was attracted to men for awhile. Both men and women, actually. He truly had been attracted to Ginny, but after the war it had been clear that she couldn't offer him what he needed. She was still grieving for her brother and couldn't deal with Harry's grief and guilt as well. He didn't begrudge her that. After Ginny there had been a random Muggle in a club over the summer, a frenzied mutual wank that had left him with more questions than answers about his sexuality.

Ginny had actually been the one to spot his confusion and speak frankly about it with him. As strange as it had been to have that conversation with his ex, Harry was glad that he had. Ginny had told him about the Wizarding world's views on sexuality, which were much different than the Muggle world Harry had grown up in. He'd heard his uncle rail against the unnaturalness of homosexuality hundreds of times, but Ginny assured him there were no such prejudices in the magical world. It had set Harry's mind at ease to know that his sexuality wasn't just another manifestation of his propensity to be different.

Still, he hadn't told anyone other than Ginny that he found himself attracted to men as well as women. And there certainly hadn't been any wizards he'd felt that kind of attraction for, though he'd felt a spark of something while he'd been rolling around on the floor of the Transfiguration classroom with Draco earlier that day.

Harry growled, tossing back his sheet once again and climbing out of bed. There was no way he was going to get back to sleep after that dream. He may as well go for a fly.

***

Harry woke the next day feeling refreshed, despite the fact that he'd only gotten two hours of sleep after his disturbing dream and subsequent early morning fly. He blamed both on being overtired. The last few weeks had been a gigantic game of catch-up, since the professors were not cutting students any slack in their coursework. The result was that the oldest students were forced to spend hours every night revising so they didn't fall behind on the current lessons, which built on things that had been taught in sixth year. For many of the returning eighth-years, those lessons had been long forgotten.

He stretched, blinking slowly and letting himself swim lazily back to consciousness. The only perk to their "eighth-year" status was the fact that, unlike the lower years, they each got their own room in the dorms. It was cramped and badly lit, but Harry didn't care. Even though he ended up spending most of his time out in the common room or the library with his former Housemates, the tiny room was a welcome retreat. Not having to share his space with anyone else was brilliant.

"Are you up?"

He laughed out loud as Ron beat on his door, giving himself one more languid stretch before hopping to his feet and grabbing a pair of denims and a T-shirt off his floor. He donned them quickly, running a hand through his hair to attempt to tame it as he crossed the room to open the door.

"Am now," he said with a yawn.

"Hermione sent me to tell you to get a move on. Your detention with McGonagall starts in twenty minutes."

Harry nodded. He didn't think Professor McGonagall would particularly care if he was late, but he definitely didn't want Ron to know that. Try-outs started in an hour, and with any luck, they'd be over before his detention ended.

"Thanks, mate," he said, taking his towel off the hook on the back of the door and heading toward the showers.

"Ginny's down at breakfast," Ron called after him. "She said she'd bring you something."

"Great," Harry answered before he ducked out of sight into the bathroom.

***

The Headmistress' resolve to supervise Harry and Draco's detention lasted for forty-five minutes, ending abruptly when a third-year burst into her classroom with reports of a brigade of students launching an exploratory mission in the lake in search of the giant squid. Harry couldn't help but laugh as Professor McGonagall tore out of the room with a stern admonition to behave themselves. He found the absurdity of the school's most legendary rivals being left alone in a detention they'd received for fighting amusing.

"I guess this must mean she's decided I didn't really break your nose," Draco smirked, twirling his quill between his fingers, making it dance from one end of his knuckles to the other.

Harry rubbed at his nose, remembering the very real punch Draco had landed. Of course, that had been right after he'd split the blond's lip with an elbow to the face, so he could hardly be upset about it.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, putting aside the notes he'd been taking on his Defense Against the Dark Arts reading. He walked to the windows, craning his neck so he could see the Quidditch pitch. It was impossible to make out who the tiny figures were, but from the looks of things, the intramural try-outs were still underway.

"Jesus Christ! That took some balls."

Interested, Draco wandered over. Harry's attention was riveted on a player that had to be Ginny Weasley, diving and feinting across the pitch with breathtaking skill. He instantly regretted joining Harry at the window, his palms turning clammy as his heartbeat raced. He turned away, unable to watch the death-defying tricks the flyer was orchestrating.

"What's the matter? Can't handle the fact that Ginny can fly circles around you?"

Draco's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his eyes squeezing shut since he knew the other boy couldn't see him.

"Just not interested," he said, forcing the words past his dry throat.

"I knew you didn't want to play, but I didn't realize you'd lost interest in Quidditch altogether," Harry said conversationally, still watching Ginny gracefully swoop through the air.

"I haven't," Draco snapped, sliding into his seat before his knees could give out, memories of the last time he'd been on a broom flooding his mind.

"So it's just that it's Ginny, then?" Harry asked, his tone heating. "I thought you were over all that, Malfoy. Can't root for a blood traitor, eh?"

Draco took a deep breath, fighting to remain calm. Harry's words barely registered through the haze of panic that had settled over him.

Harry swirled around to confront the former Slytherin, but stopped when he saw how pale the other boy had become. Concerned, he hurried over to him, kneeling on the floor near his desk and running a hand across his clammy brow.

"Get off," Draco growled, swiping at Harry's hand.

Harry let him brush his hand aside, drawing his wand instead. He cast a few quick spells before Draco jumped up, pushing him away.

"Your pulse is racing and your blood pressure's too high," Harry said, tucking his wand back into his wrist sheath. "How long have you been feeling poorly? You seemed alright a few minutes ago."

Draco glared at him, running a hand through his hair, leaving the locks uncharacteristically mussed. Harry felt a pang of something he couldn't describe run through him at the sight.

"I'm fine," he said tersely, collecting his books and storming toward the door. His hand shook as he grabbed for the handle, a tremor of fear running through him when it wouldn't open. He tried again, a whimper slipping past his lips as his attempts became more frantic.

"Calm down, Malfoy," Harry said, approaching him carefully, his hands held out to show he wasn't carrying his wand. "McGonagall locked us in when she left, remember? We're in detention, and she didn't want us skiving off early."

Draco bit his lip, trying to control the waves of panic that were threatening to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes, leaning against the door for support, struggling not to hyperventilate. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his robes, muttering a low curse when he realized he'd left his room without grabbing a Calming Draught from his stores.

"Malfoy, here," Harry said, handing him the paper bag from the pastry Ginny had brought him from breakfast. When the blond failed to take it, Harry held it up to Draco's lips. "Breathe. It'll help you calm down."

Dubious, Draco breathed into the bag, his nausea rising as he inhaled the too-sweet scent of the pumpkin pasty. He clawed at Harry's hands, trying to knock the bag away from his face.

"It'll help," Harry insisted, wrapping his free arm around Draco's waist and tugging him to the floor. Draco let himself slide down the length of the door, guided by Harry's arms. He stopped fighting as they settled on the floor, instead slumping against Harry slightly, comforted by the warmth of the other boy's body.

Harry held him for several minutes, relaxing himself when he felt the tension start to ebb out of the blond. When his breathing returned to normal, Harry let the bag drop, but kept his arms loosely draped around him.

"Nice trick with the bag," Draco said hoarsely, making no move to scoot away from Harry.

Harry shrugged slightly, suddenly self-conscious. He was essentially cradling the other boy against him, both of their backs resting against the heavy wooden door.

"Does that happen often?" Harry asked, glad their position didn't allow for eye contact. He kept his gaze locked on his shoes, studying the scuff marks on the leather.

"You mean do I make a habit of completely losing the plot in front of random strangers? No."

"I didn't mean – you didn't 'lose the plot', Malfoy," Harry stammered. "You had a panic attack. Do you take something for them? A Calming Draught or Stabilis Potion or something?"

"Are you implying I need potions to manage my moods?" Draco snapped, pulling away from Harry's arms.

"No. God, Malfoy, it was just a question. Besides, there's nothing wrong with needing a potion now and again."

Draco laughed humorlessly, embarrassment staining his cheeks a light pink. Harry looked over, instantly wishing he hadn't. The blond looked rumpled and shaky and absolutely gorgeous.

"How do you know about the Stabilis Potion, anyway? Is the Wizarding world's Boy Wonder dosing himself up to get through the day?"

Harry shrugged, his own cheeks heating with a slight flush. He looked down, busying himself with drawing a few basic runes in the dust that had settled in the unused corner near the door.

"I had a few bad panic attacks during the trials," Harry said, focusing on the outlines he was drawing. He knew Draco would know what he was talking about, since one of the Death Eater trials he had testified at was Draco's own. "I'm allergic to lavender, though, so I can't take Calming Draughts. Madam Pomfrey had me on Stabilis Potion for awhile, but I didn't like how groggy it made me."

Silence settled on the classroom, both boys caught up in their own thoughts and embarrassment. Harry tensed, wondering why he'd shared that with Draco Malfoy, of all people. Even Ron and Hermione hadn't known about his panic attacks. He couldn't help but fear they'd think less of him if they knew what a hard time he'd had dealing with the aftermath of the war. After all, they had seen the same things he had – hell, Ron had lost a brother – and they hadn't needed potions to help them function.

"It's the coriander," Draco said quietly, breaking the silence. "I substitute orange blossom for it when I brew. It doesn't disrupt the calming properties of the potion, but it eliminates the haziness."

Harry nodded, letting the tacit admission that Draco did take the potion slide by without comment.

"Is that how you knew about the bag thing?" Draco asked, curiosity finally outweighing his mortification at falling apart in front of an audience. The only other people who knew about his panic attacks were his mother and Blaise, and he'd managed to keep their severity – and frequency – from even them.

"No," Harry said, obliterating his designs with his palm and then wiping the dust on his denims. He hesitated, finally deciding he may as well show his entire hand, since he'd already told Draco more about himself than even his best friends knew. What was one more secret? "Actually, I read about it. In one of my textbooks."

Draco looked up, puzzled. Harry used his wand to Summon his bag, pulling out a thick text titled Entwhistle's Guide to Basic Healing and Anatomy. Harry bit his lip, his trepidation showing in his eyes as he waited for Draco's reaction.

"Healing? Really?" Draco asked, tilting his head as he looked from the large volume to the boy holding it. "I can see that, I suppose. Aren't you and the Weasel short-listed for Auror Academy, though?"

Harry snorted, tucking the book back into his bag. It was true that both he and Ron had already been accepted into the academy, pending passable N.E.W.T. scores. They'd never asked him if he planned to pursue a career as an Auror though. Even Ron had simply assumed it was what he wanted, when really nothing could be further than the truth. He'd seen enough death and destruction during the war; he didn't want any part in the Auror Corps after they left school.

"Yeah. I've been apprenticing with Madam Pomfrey since this summer, though. She thinks there's a good chance I can get accepted into St. Mungo's Healer training program if I can ace my Potions N.E.W.T."

Draco studied him for a moment, wondering why Harry was sharing this with him. It sounded like not even his friends knew about his intentions. He was oddly touched by Harry's trust in him.

"I could tutor you." The words were out of his mouth before they'd registered in his brain. Had he really just offered to help Harry Potter study Potions? What on earth had gotten into him?

"You'd help me?" Harry asked, his green eyes widening with surprise and delight. Draco felt something stir inside him at the knowledge that he'd put that look on the dark-haired boy's face.

"Why not?" Draco asked, shrugging negligently, as though he hadn't just offered to add another task to his already full schedule. Still, the prospect of spending more time with Harry more than made up for the time his own studies would lose. "I'm in the class, too."

Harry's shoulders drooped a bit.

"I'm still catching up on potions from sixth year," he said, shaking his head. "I'd be holding you back –"

"I don't mind," Draco said quickly, his eagerness embarrassing him. "I mean, I doubt you're that far behind. It won't take that much to catch you up, not if you had a study partner."

Harry regarded him curiously, wondering how the hell they'd ended up here, sitting inches apart on the floor of McGonagall's classroom, plotting how to combine their revision time tables. He jumped when he felt the wards the Headmistress had put on the door fade a split second before the door opened, sending them sprawling into the corridor.

"Oh, for Heaven's sake," she chided, stepping over them. "Go ahead, then. You've wasted enough of your Saturday."

They stared at her, not moving from their jumbled pose on the floor.

"Potter! Malfoy! Go," she said, waving her hands at them, shooing them away. "Go, before I change my mind."

Harry grinned, grabbing his bag and scrambling to his feet. He paused for a second, his smile growing as he offered his hand to Draco, helping the blond up as well. McGonagall's shocked expression made both of them laugh.

"See you around, Draco," Harry said, putting emphasis on the other boy's given name.

A smile curved Draco's lips, and he nodded before dashing into the classroom to grab his own books.

"See you around, Harry."

***

More tomorrow!