Warning: There is a surprise pairing in this (well, it's pretty obvious I guess). This fic was just screaming for them to get together!!! If there are those out there who don't like the pairing, please forgive me, and try to ignore those scenes.

Note: Thank you so much for all your reviews!!! I'm so glad people want to read this fic!

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Chapter 2

The sun shone brilliantly as the clock struck noon at Malfoy Manor. Out in the garden, sitting under a large marquee, sat two very content looking men. Their eyes gazed lazily over the lake in front of them; occasionally following a butterfly as it made its way around the flowerbeds. A table stood in front of them decked out with beautiful china and a large bowl of ice cream and strawberries. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with the picture at all. Harry tried to imagine that this was all that mattered. It should be all that mattered. He closed his eyes and sighed, focusing on the warmth of the day and the knowledge that he was happy, despite the feeling of disappointment every time his thoughts strayed to the Weasleys.

"This is nice," he heard Lucius mumble, sounding quite comfortable himself. Harry murmured in agreement, sloughing a bit more in his chair. "We should go for a swim in the lake." Harry opened one eye slowly, checking to see if it really was Lucius sitting next to him. Even after living with the man for over a month now Lucius still managed to surprise him. He constantly had to remind himself that Lucius had always been like this, and that it was the spells and potions used by Narcissa that had prevented him from being himself before. It was of course Lucius' own efforts to break through the binding magic of his former wife that had caused Harry to help him join the Light side and consequently fall in love with him, but he still felt surprised every time Lucius suggested something seemingly out of character.

The differences only increased of course, as time went by and the last remnants of the magic finally subsided. Lucius liked to tell Harry that he brought out the best in him, quite literally. Harry would always smile and say it had been Lucius' own strength and courage that had allowed him to break the magic and destroy Narcissa.

"We should wait for Draco," Harry remarked and got a nod in return, even though Lucius had closed his eyes and couldn't see that Harry was watching him. Another content murmur reached Harry's ears and he smiled while closing his eye again.

Draco had been affected by the magic as well, but for some reason he had managed to partly break free of it and refuse The Mark in their sixth year. It wasn't until Narcissa's death, however, that the magic let him go completely and he became free to be the Draco that had existed all along, underneath the magic. Draco seldom spoke of his actions before his defection to the Light, but no one pressed him. Lucius didn't like to speak of it either, but he and Harry had had many conversations about the things he had done under the influence by Narcissa's very Dark Magic, though they had yet to touch on the early years of the first war. Lucius had admitted that he had joined the Death Eaters of his own will as far as he could remember, but had wanted to leave when he realised what he would be required to do. His memory was, due to the magic, sporadic at best, but whenever he remembered something new he would come to Harry and they would talk about it, something Harry was grateful for.

"Where did he go? I want to swim," Lucius said, but made no move to get up or call for him.

"Relax, it's your day off. We have the whole day to swim," Harry reminded him. It was summer vacation for Harry and Draco though. Their seventh year had finished early since they both received honorary diplomas thanks to their war efforts. Now Harry was waiting for his Auror training to begin and Draco was waiting to start work with a Potions Master.

Draco was currently in the drawing room. He had sat down to read up on the seventh year potions curriculum, wanting to be prepared when he started his apprenticeship, but had dosed off. If someone had come in and seen him lying on the couch with the large volume on his chest they would conclude he was having a serious nightmare, which indeed he was. He trashed violently suddenly, enough to knock the book off and onto the floor. The thud caused him to sit up, wide awake and shaking. Almost a year after he had been freed from his mother's magic he was still having problems. When he had first felt the magic dissipate completely it had felt like waking up, like he had been chained all these years inside his mind and was finally free to open his eyes. Yet after so many months he was still having trouble distinguishing what parts of himself were his alone, and what had been caused purely by Dark Magic. He stared about the room in confusion before he realised he was safe and wasn't being threatened by his mother to take The Mark. Suddenly the doorbell rang and Draco started again. He chuckled half-heartedly when he realised what the noise was. He got up, dried off the sweat from his forehead and made his way to the front door.

"Don't worry, Pippin, I'll get it," he said to the short house elf that appeared, wearing a large blue sweater for reasons that shall become clear later.

"Yes, Master Draco," the elf replied and promptly disappeared again. Draco opened the door and almost started again.

"Weasley?" He asked incredulously. On the front steps stood a very nervous looking Ron Weasley who jumped slightly when he heard his name. Draco looked around to check if it wasn't some kind of joke, but no one jumped out and laughed so he opened the door wider. He was about to throw out some comment on how hell must have frozen over since there was a Weasley standing outside Malfoy Manner, but he caught himself. That was just his habits from before the war ended. He really didn't want to insult Ron at all, in fact he wanted quite the opposite, but he couldn't manage to say anything just now, afraid his tongue would run away with him as it so often did. Instead he gestured for Ron to enter, who did so looking rather reluctant.

"Wow," Ron said as he entered the enormous hall. The ceiling was tall, two stories, and a large ornate chandelier hung from a long chair down to the very middle of the large room. In front of them was a broad staircase leading up and then splitting in a T formation, winding around and up. To his right and left were large archways leading into a green drawing room and what could only be a ballroom, respectively. There were other doors further in along the walls, all tall and wide with delicate looking carvings.

"That's what Harry said when he first arrived," Draco said, thinking it the most neutral comment he could make about Ron's reaction. Ron spun around and faced Draco, but didn't glare. He looked curious.

"So he is here then?" He asked. Draco frowned.

"Well, of course. Father and him are married you know. Though it did take a long time to persuade Harry to move in. Something about wanting to tell you guys first…" he trailed off as he saw that Ron wasn't listening to him, but looking at the room again.

"Ron?" He asked carefully and the red head again spun around, looking even more curious. Draco bit his lip, cursing himself for using Weasley's first name. Using first names had been a tactic he used with Harry to try and shake off old habits, but Ron didn't know that, no one knew about Narcissa's magic except for the three of them. "Eh, you want to see him I suppose?" he finished, hoping to sound casual.

"Eh, yeah," Ron said, sounding dazed.

"Right. They're in the garden I think. Follow me." He started walking at a brisk pace, Ron following quickly behind. They walked passed the staircase and through a door at the end of the hall. Passing through the entire house was quite a trip. Malfoy Manor hadn't been built in one go. Every generation had seen it as their duty to add something to the family home, which usually meant adding a whole wing, and the house was therefore more like a labyrinth than anything else. As they made their way Ron spoke up, sounding apprehensive.

"So, Malfoy?"

"You can call me Draco if you like," Draco said, thinking it was ok to be polite. He wanted Ron to get to know the real him quickly, but at the same time he couldn't make it seem as if he had changed over night, which was actually partly the case. Nevertheless it was a secret and he needed to ease Ron into the whole thing.

"Eh, ok. So, Draco… is there any… I mean…"

"What?" Draco stopped and turned around to face Ron.

"Is there any particular reason Harry would… fall in love with…"

"A convicted Death Eater twice his age who everyone thinks changed sides at the last second to save his own pathetic life?"

"Eh… yeah." Ron had the decency to blush and look away. Draco remained calm.

"Not that you have any right to know. I mean, you should just trust Harry's judgement."

"I do! That's why I'm here!"

"Good. Well… I can't tell you everything because it's not for me to tell and besides I don't think I trust you yet, but what I can tell you is this: My father may be a convicted Death Eater, but he wasn't some coward who jumped ship. He defected when Voldermort was at his most powerful, when people were starting to lose faith. He gave information that turned the tide of the war, and he fought, I fought, alongside Harry."

"Oh… well I never thought that. I mean, I know that. I was there."

"Good." There was an awkward silence. Ron suddenly had a thought.

"Hey… isn't "jumping ship" a muggle expression?" Draco cleared his throat, but then turned and started walking again.

"How should I know," he said over his shoulder. "How do you?"

"Well, dad is always trying to slip muggle expressions into the conversation… they don't normally make sense, but I think that one did."

"Well… thanks." They fell silent again as they reached the last door. Stepping into the sun at last both men squinted, Draco knowing the path down to the lake instinctively didn't need to stop and adjust. Ron soon followed, looking about in awe at the garden around him. He saw big rhododendron bushes and every kind of flower known to wizarding kind. The path wound it's way down towards the lake in slow curves.

"This is beautiful," Ron whispered, causing Draco to stop and turn to hear what he had said. "Eh," Ron said as he realised he had said it out loud. "I mean it's not what I pictured your garden to look like at all." Draco couldn't help it, secrets be damned, he smiled.

"And how did you picture our garden to be like?" He asked gently, the smile never leaving his face. Ron stared at him for a moment, completely shocked to see Draco Malfoy smiling at him like it was a common occurrence. Draco smiled even wider. Ron didn't know the real Draco at all, did he?

"Well," came the slightly hoarse reply when Ron regained his senses. "I thought, you know, there'd be a big Quiddith pitch and not much else." Ron gestured around him, seemingly to the absent Quiddith pitch. Draco chuckled.

"Actually it's over there," he said. He put a hand on Ron's shoulder and turned the redhead to the left. With his other hand he pointed and they could both see the professional sized Quiddith pitch in the distance. Draco's hand was feeling ticklish on Ron's shoulder.

"Oh," was Ron's reply.

"The garden was one of the few things that my father and I always cherished," Draco explained while they started walking towards the lake again. "He always kept it in perfect condition, even when Narcissa screamed that he was taking her house elves away from more important work." Narcissa had figured out early, however, Draco added in his mind that letting his father indulge in a little gardening kept him more yielding in other areas. "It's just down here," he said as they neared the marquee on the perfectly cut lawn by the lake.

"Draco? Get your arse down here! Lucius and me want to go swimming! You want to come?" Harry's voice floated up to them from where he lay practically sprawled in his chair. As they stepped onto the grass Harry stood and turned. His face was shocked for about half a second then it broke into a huge grin.

"Ron!" Harry bounded over to his friend and enveloped the startled redhead in a bear hug. "It's great to see you."

"Right, you too" Ron said, a little out of breath. When Harry released him Lucius had risen gracefully from his chair.

"Would you care to join us for some ice-cream and strawberries, Mr. Weasley?" he asked. Ron stared at them dumbfounded. Harry laughed and grabbed Ron's hand. They walked over to the table and Harry practically pushed Ron into a chair, taking the seat next to him. Draco and Lucius sat down across from them. Ron eyed the food warily.

"Yes, Malfoys do indulge in ice cream on occasion," Draco said in answer to Ron's unasked question.

"Would you care for some, or do you like your strawberries like Harry? With sugar and milk?"

"Eh, no ice-cream sound great… thanks." Lucius waved his wand and the ice cream and berries started serving themselves. Harry smiled and took a strawberry in his mouth. Ron noticed Lucius seemed to stare at it rather avidly. The redhead looked at the ice-cream in front of him, then at Harry who was smirking at Lucius, then at Lucius who was raising his eyebrows at Harry, then at Draco who seemed to be kneading his ice-cream with his spoon to make it soft (the ice-cream was spelled to stay frozen even in the sun), then back at his own ice-cream. Finally Ron just shrugged and dug in, quite literally.

"You look like you've never had ice-cream before in your life," Draco laughed without thinking. Ron stopped and looked at him oddly, trying to decide if it was an insult or not. Draco suddenly blushed at his words and looked down. "Sorry, my sense of humour hasn't improved as you can see." Ron's eyes widened.

"No, no, I mean. It was funny. I was just… hungry. I haven't eaten since breakfast. And you know Hermione isn't exactly going to be having dinner ready when I get home. She's all about working late." Ron stopped, realising he was babbling and laughed himself. Draco started to chuckle softly. Harry and Lucius exchanged glances.

"So, Ron. What're you doing here? Not that I'm complaining," Harry asked, popping another strawberry in his mouth. Ron put his bowl down and looked nervous suddenly.

"Well, I wanted to say sorry for being such an arse the other day at the Burrow."

"Oh, Ron, don't worry about it. The point is you're here now. Right?"

"Still Harry. I should have said… something… and I'm only here because Hermione thinks I'm working." Ron had started working for the Ministry under his father immediately after he got this diploma. Though in reality he hated it, he couldn't find it in his heart to tell his father he thought muggles were boring. Arthur had always wanted one of his sons to follow in his footsteps, and Ron was his last chance.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up about it. I'm just glad you're here."

"I'm glad too. Really." They fell into a comfortable silence. Ron kept glancing up to see the unusual sight of Draco and Lucius Malfoy eating ice-cream. After a moment Lucius put down his bowl and smiled, a genuine smile completely devoid of the Malfoy superiority. Ron actually found this even more intimidating.

"So, Ron, may I call you Ron?" All Ron could do was nod. "Good, I wanted to ask. Is it true about the talking mail-boxes in Notting hill?"

"Oh, eh, yeah," Ron answered, a little shocked that Lucius was actually interested in anything he did. "Me and Kinney had to sort it out actually. They kept swearing at us. Said things I hadn't even heard of. And there was this woman that kept screaming, "Won't someone please think of the children!"" Ron said the last in a high-pitched voice and they all laughed. Ron looked around and realised he had made a joke, a joke the Malfoys were currently laughing at. After the laughter died down the conversation between Lucius and Ron picked up again.

They discussed business at the Ministry while Draco and Harry began talking about some muggle contraption Harry was planning on showing Draco. The afternoon passed away until Ron had to go, Lucius deciding to show him out so they could continue their discussion as long as possible. The rest of the day passed in a daze for Ron while he kept trying to reassure himself that yes, he had spent the entire afternoon enjoying himself at Malfoy Manor and yes, Draco Malfoy looked absolutely delicious when he licked his ice-cream covered lips. That last thought caused him to bang his head against his desk. He decided to not think about the Malfoys for the next few days and instead cooked dinner for his wife.

xxx

"Fuck!" Harry raged. He turned around, unable to look at her anymore and punched the wall to his right. "Fuck, damn, shit," he said in quick succession.

"Language, Mr. Potter," Lucius scolded. "Would you like me to remove the silence spell? Perhaps you will be more able if you can hear her?"

"It won't do any good," Harry answered, still facing the wall with his fist pressed against it. He wanted to cry suddenly, cry for his own stupidity and recklessness and inability to do what he had been longing to do all summer.

"No, I suppose not. Did you really think it would be easy? You must have had some doubts?" Harry sighed; of course he had had doubts. Hearing it from Lucius, however, made it more bearable.

"Well, fuck, of course I had doubts. But how in the hell I'm I suppose to kill Voldermort if I can't even kill the creature that killed my own godfather?" Lucius sighed this time.

"Does the prophecy say you have to kill him?"

"What?" Harry looked away from the wall, but his eyes didn't meet Lucius'.

"If it doesn't say exactly then there is still hope. You will destroy him, but not murder him. There is a difference. You are not a murderer, nor should you wish to be." A long silence followed this. Lucius tried clearing his throat, which had suddenly done very dry. Harry wasn't about to tell Lucius what the prophecy said, but the words were comforting nonetheless, even if Harry knew he had to kill.

"You really have changed haven't you?" Harry asked. "I guess I still had my doubts. A part of me believed you had managed to get around the blood protection and the second I took your hand you would apparate me straight to Voldermort."

"It's understandable. You don't have much reason to trust me."

"But it's all true isn't it? What you told me in the letters?"

"Yes," Lucius sighed again. He bowed his head and rubbed his forehead. It was still too fresh, he decided. That was why he felt so torn. "Sometimes I do wish to kill you, even if I tell myself I don't."

"What? But then how-"

"Oh, no Mr. Potter. In my heart I have no desire, but lets just say my wand hand keeps twitching. I feel like I have no control over my body. It tells me one thing, things it has been doing for years, and yet my mind tells me another. It as if the small voice inside me has suddenly been let loose and is shouting at me. Memories keep coming and going. My conscience keeps voicing its opinion rather loudly now, which is something it hasn't done in a while." Lucius closed his eyes and sighed again. 'That felt good', he thought. 'Even if I it's just Potter. It still feels good telling someone.'

"But… it's better than… I mean even if you're confused and feeling terrible, it's still better than-"

"Than continuing in the Dark Lords service, killing against my will and yet believing it's what I want more than anything? Yes, I would say this is better… though it doesn't feel like it at the moment. There's still a part of me, or the magic hopefully, that wants me to take you to him."

"But you won't?"

"No, I won't." Silence enveloped them again. Harry turned and looked at the sorry creature before him. Then he looked sideways at Lucius, who was still trying to quell the storm within him. Harry felt a stab of sympathy for the man, he couldn't help it, and he couldn't imagine living like that for so many years.

"What about Draco? Do you know where he is?"

"No… I hope he is with the Order. I haven't seen him since he escaped Narcissa… I don't know how he did it, how he refused the Mark, despite the magic. He should be released from the magic now as well. I dare say he will be even more confused. He has practically grown up with it."

"I'm sure he'll be ok." Lucius looked up at Harry with a questioning expression. After a while he softened and nodded. Again silence permeated the room. Harry stared at the still form on the floor.

"You do it," he said suddenly.

"What?" Lucius asked, hoping he had heard wrong. Harry turned and faced him.

"I cannot do it."

"But I can?" Lucius raised an eyebrow. Harry averted his eyes.

"Well… I mean…"

"I know what you mean, Harry," Lucius said tiredly. Harry looked at him again, his eyes wide. "But I cannot do it. Do not ask me to. She is filth, but I cannot kill her…"

"But you…"

"Please, Harry," Lucius turned away. "I do not wish to find out if what I have done in the past was due to my wife's magic or…" Harry nodded. Then he realised Lucius couldn't see him so he spoke up.

"I understand… what should we do with her then?"

"Turn her in," Lucius answered, turning around and composing himself again. "I understand if you don't wish to keep your part of the bargain. She is still alive after all."

"No, that's alright. You did what you promised. It's my own fault. I'll take her in myself. You stay here while I explain things to the Order."

"Very well." Harry looked at Lucius, surprised the man had agreed so quickly. The blond looked tired, which wasn't that strange, Harry mused. One could only wonder how long the man had been awake; covering his tracks and gathering all kinds of information he could bring over to the Light. Harry put away his wand and realised his other hand was bleeding from when he had punched the wall. Suddenly Lucius took his hand, but Harry didn't flinch, something the older man noted.

"Here, let me heal it for you," Lucius said, taking out his wand and pointing it at Harry's hand. A moment later and it was as good as new. Harry rubbed the slightly red skin.

"You're good with healing charms?"

"Not particularly, but good enough for bruises and small cuts."

"I'm rubbish at them. Maybe you could heal some of the others I've got?" Lucius frowned, wondering when Harry had attained bruises. "But not here," Harry said and went to the door. Once outside of Lucius' hiding place Harry illuminated his wand and hitched up his sweater. A horrible purple bruise shone in the wand light.

"What happened?" Lucius asked, his hand going out and hovering just over the bruised flesh. Harry shrugged, or rather tried. Lucius hadn't even notice the boy had been having trouble moving.

"The magic prevents enemies from entering the house, but it doesn't protect me from family," Harry said, trying to sound casual. Lucius was at a loss for words. He felt flooded with a sensation he hadn't felt in years; a desire to protect, protect Harry, which was really strange since he had spent years trying to kill the boy. Again the depth of Narcissa's magic hit him like a bludger and shook his head, thinking how insane the whole situation was. Then he saw that Harry was shivering due to the cold at this altitude. He quickly drew out his wand and began healing the bruise. When it was healed he saw smooth toned muscles from Quiddith and work for his horrid relatives, tanned from all the hours working in the garden. New desires flooded him, desires he hadn't thought about in years, and in fact didn't even remember until at that moment. He looked away, realising he'd been staring. 'Amazing. Narcissa even managed to curb my sexual urges. Why on earth did I ever marry her? Oh, right, to secure an heir… that worked out well, didn't it?'

"You ok?" Lucius was pulled from his thoughts by Harry's uncertain voice. He looked back at the boy. There was a faint blush in his cheeks.

"Yes, I'm fine… come on." They entered the house again and prepared the prisoner for transportation.

-:-

So, what do you think so far? Don't worry, I'll try to keep the Malfoys a little in character… the same only not evil. Lucius is my Mr. Darcy. Lol. He's so hot!