Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J. K. Rowling is the amazing creator and author.

…

Part 2:

The Aurors shield their faces at the sudden blast, barely keeping their footing against the gale as they watch their adversaries disintegrate. They stand stunned, looking at the ashy remains of their foes while being puzzled as to how this freak wind didn't kill them but thank Merlin they're safe. They notice a frozen figure, Yaxley, and all eyes turn to Harry as he sits with Malfoy's head on his lap, staring at the grey eyes he grew to like. Staring at the grey eyes that he grew to love. Kingsley takes a few steps towards him, wanting to ask what he did that made them win and that they'll need to take Malfoy's body to the morgue. Harry picks out murmurs of 'Why would he care?', 'Were they even friends?', 'Did he owe Malfoy a life-debt?'. Nobody knows how deep their connection runs.

He ignores the people around him, physically pushing them away with his magic as they try to touch his shoulder, grab his attention. He puts up a shield, turning it black so no-one can see in and remains kneeling, his eyes blurry with unshed tears as he strokes Malfoy's hair, registering the back is caked in blood. He waits for Draco to move, to says it's a prank. Anything but face reality. He needs to leave; they need to leave. He gathers Draco in his arms, trying hard not to register how his head and arm flops and apparates. A loud crack alerts the others that they've gone followed by black smoke evaporating into the air revealing emptiness.

...

"Do you want to get out of here?" Draco says, dumping his briefcase by the sofa in which Harry is sitting and loops his arms around Harry from behind, resting his head on Harry's shoulder. The dark-haired man smiles, leaning back into the embrace and places a hand on one of his arms.

"Bad day?" Harry asks, releasing him and he straightens. Harry takes his hand and leads them to kitchen; he takes out two mugs, putting chamomile tea in one and black tea in the other. Malfoy sighs, accioing the Daily Prophet from his bag and hands it to Harry.

Exclusive! Former Death Eater Draco Malfoy and Golden Boy Harry Potter were seen holding hands in a dark corner of the Leaky Cauldron. Does the Saviour have a flare for bad boys or has he lost his mind?

Harry scrunches up the paper in his hand, his rage rising fast and a fire quickly starts in the corner of the paper. Draco silently takes the paper from him and sets it in the sink running water over it. He knows Harry is protective of his friends and will want to seek revenge. He quite likes the Slytherin streak in him.

"That was the only copy. I took the film with the photos and already cursed the writer."

"With?" Harry asks coolly, taking out the tea bags and adding milk and one sugar to the black tea.

"Full body bind, flagrante when he touches his camera, notepad or quill and taboo if he mentions either of our names for press." Harry nods pleased and passes him his herbal tea.

"It'll do for now." Draco snorts into his drink, enjoying his dark side. They drink the remainder of their tea.

"Yes." Harry says, confusing Draco. "In answer to your question, yes I'd like to go."

"Right." Draco says startled and works on getting his thoughts in order. He looks at the clock and remembers pictures he'd seen in a copy of a muggle magazine he was shown by another temp. He nods to himself and walks around the kitchen packing this and that, glad to escape wizarding world for a day and meets with Harry after instructing him to grab a blanket.

All set, Draco apparates them to a meadow predominantly inhabited by purple cornflowers, viper's bugloss and dwarf candytufts. The stunning variation in colours and plants makes Harry's breath catch; he's never seen such a beautiful landscape before. The first amazing scenery he saw other than Privet Drive was Hogwart's castle when he and the other first years emerged on the boats across the lake. The meadow doesn't 'compare to the magnificent school emerging from the darkness, but it's a new scene and breath-taking just the same. He brushes his hands across the tall grass as he walks, enchanted as pieces of pollen stick to his clothes and various butterflies and bees glide past him. It's magical. Malfoy watches his partner stroll joylessly across the hillside, pleased that his chosen destination lives up to the images in the magazine and that he's so taken by it. Harry spreads his arms and turns in a circle, laughter leaving him as the sun and clouds spin and the warm breeze caresses his hair. He quickly walks towards Draco and takes his hands, spinning him too. Draco laughs too as the grass and flowers rustle against their clothing, until Harry trips and they fall into a heap.

"You're like a child!" Draco comments, as Harry finally rolls off him. They lay down close next to each other, watching clouds go by and say what they think each one looks like. Harry moves his hand closer and entwines their fingers, Draco tightens the hold and they continue debating whether the cloud to their left looks like dancing rabbit or a squating duck. They remain like that for a while, hidden by wild flowers and enjoying the perfect weather. They eat some of the left overs Draco packed, and talk of their view back in London.

"I'd rather be laying here than staring at the underground." Harry says idly, knowing that they'll return after the sun finishes setting. The ball of fire burns red in the evening; leaving pink and yellow streaks in the sky as the clouds are sent into shadow, adding a new depth to the sight. It's utterly stunning. Harry reluctantly sits up, and extends his other hand to Draco which he takes and sits up too. They look at each other thoughtfully, and Draco places a hand on his cheek. He leans forward slowly, giving Harry time to object but he doesn't, instead he tilts his head and meets his lips.

The world falls away as at last, they kiss. They seemed to agree, despite never having discussed the subject, that any move to initiate one in between their maddened lives would be rushed and that's not how first kisses are meant to be. It is soft and slow, comforting in way that means nothing else matters. Harry moves a hand to Draco's back, skimming down the curvature until it rests in the small of his back. The lean back chests heaving, smiles on both of their faces.

It's their first kiss, a month after their first date. They let their hands drop, fingers skating over the others body. Life couldn't get any better.

...

Harry strengthens the wards around their house, allowing his magic to do as it wishes. He carefully lays Draco on the bed, placing his arms by his side as his mind still tries to process the reality of what he's seeing. That's when he crumbles, falling to his knees at his bedside and rests his head on the torn shirt as sobs rack through his body. This isn't real. His mind wonders to dark places and dark magic soon becomes a good way to bring him back. Necromancy is a risky art and having no practice in it, the likeliness of pulling Draco back from the other side and not another soul is low. He desperately runs through all the healing spells he knows, maybe if a part of him is still there then a healthy body will somehow restore his soul? Nothing. He kicks the bed post and starts pacing the room furiously as his options lessen. If only he could change time…time. Memories of his and Hermione's time travel in 3rd years bring a faint beat of hope, only to be shattered as he remembers that all the time turners were collected and destroyed.

The anger seeps from his control and he smashes everything in sight, chucking what he can at the walls and screaming of the unjustness until his throat is raw. He slides down the wall sniffling pitifully; wanting to give up, wanting for the ground to swallow him whole, wanting for his love to return.

Trying hard to bury his pain and focus on his new task, he heads to their apothecary. Moving along the scale of toxicity, he finds the group of poisonous plants and grabs a pestle and mortar. Belladonna, Hemlock, Rosary Pea, Rhubarb leaves, Golden Chain and Daphne. He takes various doses of each plant depending on the concentration needed to affect him and starts grinding it all hotly. If he can't bring Draco back, then he will join him.

...

Malfoy bustles about the kitchen, placing the finishing touches to the dining table, wanting everything to be perfect for when Harry arrives. It's Harry's 19th birthday and he's planned to surprise him when he gets in from work, having cunningly asked for the day off two months in advance so no-one would clock on. A new song released by the Weird Sisters plays on the WWN, filling the silence in the kitchen and Draco unconsciously hums along to the tune. He glances at the clock and smiles, it's 6pm, Harry should be home any minute now. The crack of apparition sounds from the front door, alerting him that he's here.

"Whatever's cooking smells amazing!" Harry calls, inhaling the spicy scent as he hangs his Auror robes on the hook by the door and sends his briefcase to unpack itself. Draco's grin grows wider at the compliment and he waits for Harry to walk in, excitedly tapping his fingers against his thigh. Floating candles emit a warm glow around the table, illuminating his favourite dinner of spaghetti and meatballs steaming on two plates. Harry stops dead taking it all in. As Draco realised he loved to cook, Harry had mockingly given him a 'Kiss the Cook' apron, he'd never worn it but he was wearing it now. Harry looks around the kitchen, his eyes twinkling like a child in a toy shop and laughs softly upon seeing the sauce-covered apron and does what it reads.

"You didn't have to do all this." He says, always taken aback when Malfoy goes out of his way for him. The man is a perfectionist so when he sets his mind to something he never disappoints.

"Yes, I did." Draco smirks, noticing Harry's blush. Despite being cataclysmic people, they're no longer explosive people. It's like all their anger and hatred was used up in the war as they fought their real enemies. Malfoy's apprenticeship has ended 2 months early; no-one could deny his exceptional knowledge of the Dark Arts was impressive, as well as how well he and Harry worked together. The fact that they're the youngest and the best pair on the team, further highlights their transformations.

Harry walks up to stove and dips his finger in the sauce, receiving a shove from Draco who frowns muttering about manners. They enjoy the beautiful candlelit dinner, Harry showers compliments in between mouthfuls and a permanent blush stays on Draco's face throughout the meal. After they've eaten and everything's charmed to tidy, Draco apparates them side along to Wales, to the place they went where they had their first kiss.

It's only the second time Harry's left England; the Dursley's left him with their squib neighbour Mrs Figg and he doesn't truly count seeing Scotland as although Hogwarts is there, he's never branched out further than Hogsmeade. It's a cloudless, starry sky as they lie on the picnic blanket Draco set up on the hill; a pile of blankets, pack of marshmallows and a flask of tea with them. After Harry explained how a thermos kept the liquid warm without magic, he's found any excuse to use them since. Draco started a fire, placing a warming spell on them too, as they snuggle under the blankets. Harry rests against his arm as they use magic to roast the marshmallows on skewers, watching as they turn by themselves and taking them off before they melt. Harry sets a few on fire but it's otherwise a perfect evening like Draco hoped. It's the first-time Harry's celebrated his birthday properly; he's always received a mountain of gifts from friends but he's never actively celebrated it.

They talk about their day, the stars and when conversion dries up its not awkward. They just enjoy the night with each other on their hill. As the fire starts to turn to embers, Harry checks the time showing it's 11pm. He could never have dreamed of a better evening as they pack up and apparate back to Draco's flat in which they both live.

"Happy birthday." Draco says with one minute to go until the day changes, leaning in to kiss his partner.

They've had an uncountable number of kisses since the first one 8 months ago. The action never gets old, leaving them positively glowing – sometimes literally when Harry's magic has a mind of its own – and blissful. They move with some difficulty as they refuse to separate and end up colliding with the furniture – much to pair's amusement – and finally reach the stairs, where they at last open their eyes and head up. Harry makes the first move, undressing them both with the flick of his wand as they step into their room and moves them to the bed. He backs Draco onto it, waiting until he's settled to straddle his lap. Draco looks at him, his eyes full of lust and pulls their mouths together desperately. Due to one incident or another they've never had the chance to go all the way in their relationship. A meeting will be called, they're sent on a mission or when they did have a moment alone they'd be exhausted. Malfoy's always been kind, never rushing them and Harry knows that'll continue without discussion for as long as he wants. Harry reads the caution on his face; he doesn't want to make an impulsive move in case he's reading the situation wrong.

"I want this." Harry confirms and Draco shuffles back more. Harry steadies himself on his chest at the move.

"Don't you want to?" Harry asks before he can stop himself, hating how his voice quivers at the end of the question.

"Trust me, I do." Draco replies and Harry swallows at the deep tone in his voice, "I just need to make certain you're sure. It's your first time, it has to be right."

Draco's first time was a quick and rough experience in the Slytherin bathrooms after he and Theo had had too much to drink.

"No, it's our first time and it will be." Harry corrects and kisses him. He's slept with Ginny and other muggle woman but never a man.

Draco smiles into the kiss as he hears him whisper, "I want you."

Draco deepens the kiss at the words, touched by his trust. After licking, kissing and caressing all available skin; Draco strokes Harry's cock as he makes sure his hole is thoroughly prepped. Soon enough the boy is begging him to enter, his hips moving down on the long fingers stroking his prostate. Draco smiles at his eagerness and aligns himself, entering gently.

Harry wanted to live a thousand night's in one; he tested different positions and speeds as at last they finally become one. He learns that he prefers being underneath. He likes having Draco over him; he likes seeing the signs of pleasure on his face as he works his hips in a steady beat, his unstyled, wavy hair moving to the same tempo. He likes hearing the breathy moans he releases as Harry brushes a hand over his chest and nipples, he likes when their chests are flush together and he can feel that Draco's heartbeat is as erratic as his own. He likes it when their hands stay together to the side of his face; a symbol of unity as they share an experience like no other.

Heaven can't last forever, and Draco strokes him to completion so they finish at the same time. Harry spills in his hand like he's done before but not in this position, and moans deeper as his hole tightens around the blond and he feels him come inside him. Draco says Harry's name as he comes, and with what little strength he can muster, he pulls out and lies on his back.

"Best birthday present ever!" Harry pants, resting his head against Draco's neck. Harry feels him laugh against him and smiles too. Surrounded by his arms, he's never been so happy.

...

At the memory, more tears flow. He tries to keep his eyes off his lover. Adding water to the mix of poisons, he looks about making sure he's used everything and anything that could kill him. He wants to ensure that he stays dead. Satisfied, he pours the fizzing, acrid mixture into a glass and heads back upstairs. He sits in the bed next to him, he feels sick but is comforted with the knowledge he won't be alone much longer. He removes his jacket

…

It's their fourth anniversary of being together. Harry has made their favourite dessert, New York cheesecake and opens an expensive bottle of champagne. It has been tradition for the past 3 years to eat this and settle on the sofa watching whatever's on. Harry cuts it into 8 equal slices and removes two, plating them and is about to move through to the living room when the lights dim. He turns to the table, about to get his wand but what he sees makes him stop abruptly. Draco places his wand on the side and kneels.

He's not in a tailored suit or any type of formal wear; he's dressed in Avengers pyjamas that Harry brought him after he wouldn't stop going on about them after they binge watched the Marvel franchise one weekend. Unsurprisingly to Harry, he still looks incredibly sexy in his pjs, dishevelled hair and reading glasses despite him swearing he doesn't need them. He removes the glasses and pulls out a small box from his pocket, breathing out nervously as he opens it. Harry's heart is doing somersaults as he stares at the black box with a burgundy, velvet lining. It holds a white gold band with green marbling slowly drifting around infinitely like a stream of water. He looks to Draco and then back to the box, not in confusion but in awe.

Draco chews his lip nervously wondering whether he should say something, fill the lengthening silence but that's never been them. Both men aren't great at expressing their emotions in words so to others it'd seem half-hearted that he's not giving some romantic toast on how they complete each other but for them, emotionally damaged people who have lived through a war, it was a huge step - allowing the other to have such control over their heart. It's why they are perfect for each other...were perfect. They show each other their feelings and love through their actions; words are easily distorted, misinterpreted or are outright false.

Harry realises he's remained silent for too long, seeing doubt slowly work onto Draco's face and quickly kneels, surprising him with a kiss. He separates just enough to murmur, "Yes". Draco's body physically relaxes, the weight off his chest as he pulls Harry into a tight hug. Draco pulls back and Harry beams at him as he lifts his hand and places the ring on his finger. He notices words engraved on the outside of the ring, Magis quam praeteritis nostris, but he's never been good at the latin.

"What does it say?" He asks, unable to take his eyes off the band.

"More than our past. It seemed appropriate." Draco comments, Harry nods agreeing. He's drawn out of the trance of his ring and looks up.

"You need one too!"

Harry takes the ring off, duplicating it, before returning it to his finger and turning around so Draco can't see his work. He points his wand at the small object and starts shaping the metal, hoping his magic takes what he sees in his head and does it justice. After a few minutes, he's finished. He delicately places his creation on his palm so Draco can assess it.

Draco holds a thinner white gold band with shimmering flecks of splintered rubies throughout it. He smiles adoringly and Harry slides it on. Harry talks in parseltongue; even though the ability to flawlessly speak it left him when Voldemort did, he still understands most of what snakes say. Only Draco knows he's been learning it since the war, getting better each year. The band turns into a white, metal snake, weaving in between his fingers before returning to a perfect circle. They'd always said how they'd never have predicted their lives turning out like this, especially with their school relationship and house rivalry. Harry had grown to love snakes and Draco learnt to love lions. He enjoys the way the snake still glittered with red, combining aspects of them both, just like he purposefully included green into Harry's, matching his eyes and his own former house.

"What did you say?" Draco asks, although he already knows, he just wants to hear him say it.

"I love you." Harry says with a smile.

"It seemed appropriate." Harry copies and enjoying Draco's soft laughter as he rests their heads together, Draco closes the gap and they share their first kiss as an engaged couple.

They resume the evening, eating cheesecake and watching TV until they've had enough and charm the plates to wash themselves as they head to bed. Holding the others hand, they unknowingly play with their rings as they walk to their room and stay up into the early morning making love.

...

No-one knows about the engagement. They'd kept it a secret so that there'd be no chance of it reaching the papers. Harry looks at their rings, charmed so only they can see them and removes the spell. He has just one more task until he can join Draco. He's been to the other side, a white-washed Kings Cross Station and knows that's where he'll be waiting.

He picks up three vials and starts saving his memories; one detailing his and Draco's development over the past 4 years right up until this moment, one containing his memories of his friends over the past 12 years, and lastly, one holding information for the case he's been working on. Securing them all in a tube rack, he places another kiss to his fiancé's cool lips and lies down next to him. He's the first man he ever loved; the only man he's ever loved. He's the man he'll never get to marry.

"I'll see you soon." He promises, holding his hand and raises the cup to his lips.

Death will not evade him this time.

…

Note: The flashbacks are structured starting with their current life, then each 'first time' they had leading up their engagement. Also, they died aged 22 in case some didn't work out the math. On the plus side he outlived his parents…too soon?

Thanks for reading, any feedback is appreciated x