Harry groaned as he heard a quiet knock on his door, the burn of his third glass of firewhisky still fresh in his throat. Shaking his head to clear it, and only making the room spin just a bit faster, he slowly walked to the door and opened it.

Draco leaned casually against his doorframe, and Harry had a fleeting thought that his hair looked lovely in the hazy light of his room, before he came to his senses and forcefully pushed it aside.

"Yes?" he asked, proud of himself that it didn't come out nearly as slurred as it had in his head.

A single, un-amused eyebrow rose at the scene before him as Draco smirked. "My, my Potter, drinking already?"

Harry ignored the comment, setting his drink to the side with the grim determination that he had had enough.

Draco sighed, shaking his head distastefully to himself as he casually moved past Harry into the room, uninvited. With a sense of purpose, he strode over to Harry's dresser and poured himself a tall drink of the amber liquid before tossing it back without even so much as a flinch.

Harry scowled. "Fine, help yourself."

Draco ignored him, pouring himself another glass before taking a slow sip.

"So, I take it that you aren't here merely to criticize my afternoon habits then. What did you want Malfoy? Er, Draco."

"I've finished touring the house, and even met that blasted thing you call a house elf. I'd say that damned Hippogriff and I have come to a . . . . tentative understanding, and I got rid of the boggart in the last room on the right."

Harry hadn't drunk enough to miss the shadow that crossed Draco's face at the mention of the boggart but he thought it best not to mention it.

"Sounds like you've kept busy then; thank you."

"Well seeing as how I'll be living here too, I thought I'd try to make the quarters somewhat habitable." Draco shrugged. "I've also got some logistical questions."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Logistics" he repeated blankly.

Draco nodded, leaning against the wall and staring into his glass. "How are you planning on handling my sentence?"

Harry blinked, feeling himself sober fast. "I haven't really thought about that, if I'm honest. But, I was being honest at the Ministry, I have no intention of forcing you to work for me."

Draco took another drink, eyes darkening. "Be practical Potter-"

"Harry," he corrected Draco. If they were going to be civil they may as well commit.

"Harry," Draco amended. "As much as I appreciate the noble attitude, the Ministry will check in on my sentence. We're both going to have to do some things we find unpleasant if this is going to work. Or you might as well send me to Azkaban now."

"I don't want that" Harry said honestly, looking at his hands in his lap, "but I don't want a servant either."

Draco snorted, "It's hardly that simple."

Emerald eyes flashed in anger, "Obviously, I didn't sign up for any of this."

Draco set his glass down on the dresser with a hard clink, hands twitching at his sides as he attempted to prevent himself from balling them into fists. "Typical Potter," Draco growled, ignoring their brief attempt at civility. "Rushing in to do good without knowing what he's getting himself into."

"Well if you want to go to Azkaban be my guest," Harry snapped, motioning towards the door.

Draco closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose, before slowly opening them again. Slate grey eyes pinned Harry to the spot and he froze.

"This may seem like a big inconvenience for you, Potter" he spat, "but this is my life we're talking about here. So, either commit to the situation you agreed to put us in, or save us both the trouble and send me away now."

Harry was quiet for a long moment, taking in Draco's words. He was right, it may have been distasteful for Harry, but it was Malfoy's last chance for a semblance of freedom. He may not have agreed with everything Draco did, but he could understand most of it. War was no place for children, and although they had both taken drastically different paths, they had both been trying to do what they thought was best to protect their loved ones.

"Okay," Harry said, standing up and moving to the dresser next to Draco to pour himself a glass of water. "We'll make this work."

Draco's eyes watched him wearily, "how?"

"We'll live together since we don't really have a choice, but we're not obligated to be friends. I figure that we can keep to ourselves and try to live out this year as peacefully as possible."

Draco raised an eyebrow. Part of him had expected Potter to reach out to him, to try to fix him like some broken bird as he seemed to do with all the people in his life.

Harry licked his lips nervously and Draco unconsciously followed the movement. "As for when the Ministry comes to check in, I guess we'll just have to put on a show."

Draco stayed silent, waiting for the shorter man to continue.

"You can clean around the house, do chores, act like I'm putting you to work. You. . ." Harry hesitated, "you do know how to clean don't you?"

He scoffed, "Yes I bloody know how to clean."

It was Harry's turn to raise an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

Draco sighed, hating what he was about to say. "When I was little. . . I didn't have many friends, so I would play with the house elves. I would clean with them, it was fun. That is, until my parents found out and forbid it."

Harry looked at him with pity, and Draco bristled.

"Ironic question coming from you though, you've probably never cleaned a day in your life. Pampered as the Chosen One for years."

Harry found himself suddenly drained of any sympathy, his eyes narrowing. "I was essentially a house elf for half my life for my muggle relatives. I didn't know who I was, who my parents were, or about magic. I lived in a cupboard under the stairs until I came to Hogwarts and was beat constantly no matter how clean I got the house."

Draco was shocked. He'd always imagined Harry living a life of luxury, surrounded by family and friends with admirers all around. For some reason, this revelation that Potter hadn't even known who he was, had been abused even, didn't sit right with him.

Their eyes met, and a heavy silence filled the room as they looked at one another, letting the new revelations of the other's life sink in.

Harry was the first to break eye contact, running a hand through his untamed hair. "There's floo powder on the fireplace, you should call in on your mother and see when she'd like us to come over."

Draco nodded, eyes lingering on Harry a moment longer before he drained the rest of his glass, set it down, and exited the room.

-x-x-x-

Narcissa Malfoys' face filled with mild disgust as her son told her the recent news of his bond to Potter. After a long moment of silence, she spoke hesitantly.

"As. . . distasteful as it is, it could be worse."

Draco snorted, readjusting on his knees in front of the fireplace as he looked up at his mother. "I don't see how."

"You could be bound to a Weasley" Narcissa pointed out, taking a sip from her tea as she peered at her only child from the comfort of her parlor's leather chair.

Draco looked like he might be ill, face unrestrainedly showing emotion in front of his mother, one of the few people he didn't have to put up pretenses with. At least when in private. "Thank Merlin for that."

"I take it Potter doesn't know the nuances of what he has agreed to?"

Draco shook his head, "Bloody hero has no idea, just rushed into it to save another damsel in distress."

Narcissa shrugged an elegant shoulder, looking over the rim of her cup as she took in her son's annoyed countenance. "Still," she said after a sip of her tea, "it is better than Azkaban. I'm sure your father would agree."

Anyone that didn't know her that well would have missed the faint flash of pain that darkened her eyes at the mention of her husband. The two sat in silence for a minute, each lost in their own troubled thoughts over the fate of the patriarch of the Malfoy family. Draco was the first to break the silence.

"While Potter is feeling generous, I thought that we could come to the Manor to pick up a few of my things if that is alright with you."

"Of course dear," Narcissa replied with a careless, yet graceful wave of the hand. "I suspect we won't be seeing that much of one another, what with the proximity requirements of the bond and me being in this infernal house arrest. I would love to see you in person."

Draco smiled sadly, knowing that what his mother said was true. He couldn't imagine Potter wanting to accompany him to the Manor that often and his mother certainly couldn't come to him.

He swallowed thickly. She was the only family he had left outside of his imprisoned father. It would be difficult not being able to see her.

"Is an hour from now alright?" Draco asked after a moment.

"Sounds excellent dear." A rueful smile crossed her distinguished features. "I'll make sure the house elves hide some of our. . . more peculiar artifacts. We wouldn't want Mr. Potter getting the wrong idea, now would we?"

Draco grinned, knowing that his mother did not practice the Dark Arts but was still fond of some of the darker objects that had been passed down from her parents.

"No, that certainly wouldn't do."

-x-x-x-

Harry looked at the Manor cautiously, scanning the grounds with weary eyes.

"No one's waiting in the wings to hex you" Draco snorted, catching himself before he added 'Potter' to the end of that sentence.

Harry rolled his eyes, but did a subtle double take as he noticed the clenching of Draco's jaw. He had been treated as a villain ever since Hogwarts, and after the war, he had only been treated worse, of course it would be a soft spot for him.

Harry figured that Draco must have seen the pity in his eyes judging from the affronted look that crossed the blonde's face. Not waiting for Harry to follow, Draco started heading for the house, robes billowing behind him in a very Snape-like manner.

"Hello dear" Narcissa Malfoy said as they crossed the threshold of the Manor, kissing Draco on the cheek. "Mr. Potter," she nodded.

"Hello ma'am" Harry said quietly, looking around the large, lavish Manor.

It didn't look as ominous as it had during the war, but he had mainly seen the dungeons anyway. He wondered what the Ministry had done with them in the post-war roundup and investigation of all former Death Eaters.

Harry ignored the whispering portraits that followed him from frame to frame as Narcissa lead them further into the house. He tried his best to ignore it.

"Mr. Potter, you're welcome to wait in the parlor while Draco collects his things. I can have a house elf bring you tea."

A muscle in Harry's jaw twitched, and Narcissa raised an eyebrow at his hesitance.

"Ah, I see. You still suspect us to be harboring dark artifacts. And you think my son would have the audacity to smuggle one into your home. The home you invited him into to avoid an Azkaban sentence."

Harry flushed, "I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

"You did," Narcissa quipped, a cool fire in her eyes. "But do not worry, we have suffered through much worse offenses."

Draco had sat silent during the exchange, and for the first time Harry cast a look towards him.

His face was as emotionless as stone. "So much for civility, eh Potter?" he said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I just-"

Narcissa held up a calming hand, that did more to worry Harry than an angry tirade would have.

"I think. . . I'll wait here and have that tea if the offer still stands." Harry said after a tense moment of silence.

Narcissa nodded, "Mitzy" she called, and in a second a very shy looking house elf stood at her side. "Please see to it to making Mr. Potter comfortable in the parlor, and bring him some tea."

"Yes, of course Mistress," she said, walking over to Harry quickly and holding out a hand for his which she firmly took. "Mitzy will see to it."

Harry watched as Narcissa and Draco walked down the hall, Narcissa reaching out and taking her son's hands in two of hers, and Draco's shoulders sagging once they both assumed that they were no longer in Harry's line of vision.

The 'tea', Narcissa had offered turned out to be a feast. Mitzy brought trays of pastries and a lavish tea set that must have costs hundreds of Galleons. For the cost of everything, the taste better be perfection.

And oh, how it was. The chocolate melted in his mouth, the tea was delightful and the finger sandwiches were to die for. Harry couldn't remember the last time he had had an orgasm but he felt that this was a close second.

"Is it to Mr. Potter's liking?" Asked Mitzy anxiously, wringing her hands.

"It's delicious" Harry said around a mouthful of croissant, flushing.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Narcissa said, clearly amused. Or at least Harry thought she was. It was hard to tell from just a slight quirk of the lips.

"Ready Potter?" Draco asked.

Harry stiffened, the use of his last name clearly meant that the affront was not forgotten.

"Yes, sorry," he said, hastily standing and wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Whenever you are."

Draco kissed his mom farewell, Narcissa taking his face in his hands and simply staring at him for a while. Harry had to look away for a moment, feeling as though he were intruding on something deeply private.

"I feel as though we will not be seeing one another that often during the duration of our sentences," he heard her say, and he didn't know how he felt about the situation.

A few moments later and Harry heard a throat clear, "Let's go Potter."

Harry nodded, following Draco and the heavy case he levitated in his wake to the threshold of the door. Once they had reached the edge of the wards in silence, Draco wordlessly took his arm and apparated them back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

-x-x-x-

Colin Creevey's face floated in front of Harry, mouth open in a soundless scream. The scene flashed to Fenrir Greyback standing over his dead body, Colin's hand reaching out in one last desperate attempt to grasp at a chance for help.

The scene changed once more, this time to Cedric, stoically sitting atop his gravestone, staring sadly down at his parents. He glanced up, meeting Harry's eyes, clearly disappointed. The guilt welled up in Harry, choking him.

Dudley was next, standing silent as Uncle Vernon and Petunia threw curses and obscenities at him, beating him before throwing him into his old cupboard.

Harry was plunged into darkness, something that seemed like a reprieve. But the rest was only a brief moment before voices surrounded him. First came Sirius, calling him James in his final moments. Then Tonks and Lupin lamenting the lost opportunity to be there for their son. Fred came, laughing before his familiar laugh broke into sobs at the realization that he would never again get to play pranks with his brother. Then came Dobby, Dumbledore, Snape, his parents, and all the others he had lost.

He felt like he was suffocating, sinking deeper and deeper into a pit that he couldn't climb out of. His mouth opened in a silent scream. He would never get out. He was falling, falling but-"

"Potter, Potter! HARRY! Wake up dammit!."

Harry sat up, banging his head on the headboard behind him as sweat dripped from his forehead. It wasn't just his forehead, his shirt was damp and constricting on his body, which he quickly took off. The garment's removal helping him breathe just a bit more.

He looked up, suddenly remebering worried grey eyes above him. Draco's eyes had drifted, momentarily lowering to look at Harry's chiseled chest and abdomen before coming back up to meet Harry's.

"Merlin's beard Harry, are you alright? What was that?"

Part of Harry absently noted the use of his first name, perhaps fear had briefly put them back on civil terms. He hoped it stayed that way.

"It was nothing" Harry said, reaching over to his nightstand for a glass of water, hating that his hand was shaking. That fact was not lost on Draco either.

"Obviously it wasn't nothing" Draco said darkly. "I could hear you from my room. You were screaming, and calling people's names. I know those names," and silver eyes darkened to grey.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "It was a just a nightmare, I get them sometimes."

Draco's face softened in sympathy. Nightmares, apparently, were something that he was familiar with.

"How often?" Draco asked, voice suddenly professional and matter-of-fact.

"One or two times a week maybe, it's not a big deal."

Draco looked at him blankly, clearly, it was a big deal.

"Hold on a minute" Draco said, leaving his position from beside Harry's bed and exiting the room.

Harry waited, not sure what to expect. When the blond returned a few moments later, Harry was suddenly startled to realize that he hadn't noticed what Draco had been wearing. Or, more specifically, what he hadn't been wearing.

Draco stood there, looking like a tired, pale Adonis in just a pair of low slung green sweat pants. Harry had to look away before the familiar flush he could feel beneath his cheeks took hold. This was Draco. This was Malfoy.

"Here" Draco said, striding back over to Harry and pressing a small vial into his hand.

"What is this?" Harry asked, peering at the purple liquid with suspicion.

He was met with an eyeroll for his caution, "Its dreamless sleep potion. I know you've had it before."

"I don't need this" Harry said, attempting to hand it back.

Draco's hand closed over his for a moment, Harry's fingers closing over it in a tighter grip.

"Yes, you do. I trained to be a potion's master, I promise there are no mistakes in it. It'll work."

"It's not that I don't think that it'll work, I-"

"Look, the bond ensures that I can't harm you, even indirectly."

Harry held up his free hand, meeting Draco's eyes seriously. "It's not that, I promise. I just don't like depending on things, or people for that matter."

A flash of recognition crossed Draco's face. "I understand, better than you think. But, sometimes there's pride, and sometimes there's foolishness. I don't doubt that you can get through weekly nightmares, but there's no reason that you should have to. I make potions routinely, and I'll be living with you for a year. Just take it, no one's going to know. Swallow your pride and just take it."

He considered Draco for a long moment before finally nodding, uncorking the vial and downing it in one go.

"Thank you," Harry said, and he meant it.

"Its fine, " Draco said, "I'll brew extra from now on." Harry was cut off before he could protest, "Potions is my passion, it's no trouble. Just take the damn potions from now on and let me sleep in peace. I can't keep waking up in the middle of the night thinking someone's attacking." It was then that Harry remembered that Draco had been holding his wand tightly when he'd woken Harry.

With a long-winded sigh, signaling that all the fight had drained out of him, Harry agreed. "Alright, fine, thank you."

Draco nodded, appeased for now, before he walked from the room., leaving Harry to go back to sleep, this time, dreamlessly. And in the morning, Harry wouldn't remember the last time that he had slept so well.

It has been forever since I updated this, but I missed writing so I've come back to it. The next chapter is already in the works. Please, please, please tell me what you think, gives me motivation.

Reviews are Love =D