Part 3

A rough hand, calloused from hard work, lightly touched his cheek. Draco sighed and turned his face towards Harry's palm, and didn't move as his lover's thumb brushed over his lips and gently tipped his mouth open. Harry's hand twisted the clasp on Draco's robe, undoing it. The cloth slid off his shoulders and pooled around his feet. He wore nothing underneath and he lowered his gaze to the floor, his face turning pink as his lover looked over him. Grasping Harry's robes, he hissed as those rough hands held his hips and pulled him close, running freely over his own unmarked skin.

And then Harry tapped his wand on the ribbon around Draco's throat, and the cold grip of the full restraint charm washed over Draco, leaving him paralyzed and expressionless as Harry turned and walked away without a look back. Darkness covered him and he tried to scream, but he simply stood statue-like as if in a tomb. Alone and forgotten, he couldn't even cry.

Draco woke up gasping and he instinctively clutched at the warm body beside him. At first he thought he was back in his dark cell beneath Azkaban, but here he had a blanket and a soft bed beneath him. Instead of dementors floating nearby, he heard grasshoppers chirping outside. He sat up and looked around the room lit by moonlight, recognizing it even though it was nearly devoid of furniture. He looked down at the man beside him. Without his glasses, Harry looked strange and unfamiliar.

The sudden jolt of his lover waking up roused Harry, and he blinked sleepily. "Draco? You all right? What time is it?"

"Don't know," Draco whispered. He let go a deep breath and lay back down, cuddling up against Harry's side and throwing both his arm and leg over him. To his relief, he felt Harry put his arms around him and kiss the top of his head.

"Nightmare?"

"Mm." He stared at the silver light coming from the window like the outside world forcing its way into their dark, comfortable room. "I love you."

As always, Harry didn't answer, but Draco didn't expect him to. After he'd discovered how the hero of the wizarding world had grown up, despised by his family and friendless until he reached Hogwarts, he accepted that he would have to be the demonstrative one. Harry might kiss or hold him, but that came out of Harry's desire to touch him and not out of any desire to reassure Malfoy that he loved him. Draco had resigned himself to his lover's lack of romantic grace. It was the price of loving Potter and it wasn't easy trying to bridge that gap. His parents, while loving, had not been warm or effusive, and he often had to force himself to tell Harry he loved him. Conversations in bed were still new to both of them.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"You...you wouldn't put me completely under this charm again, would you?"

"Charm?" Harry frowned in confusion but he soon realized what Draco meant. "You mean turn you into that doll again, like you were in the auction house? No...never. I promise."

Draco didn't want to ask the next question but he had to. He wouldn't stop thinking about it until he did. "And you wouldn't give me away?"

"Of course not," Harry said, raising his voice. "You're mine."

Both of them winced, and Harry sighed and held him a little tighter. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean that how it sounded."

"...it's all right. I know what you meant." He nestled close against his lover, hiding his face in the crook of Harry's neck. Nowhere felt safer than in Potter's arms. Within them, he was safe from dark lords and evil spells. But he wasn't sure that he was safe from the Ministry. He half-closed his eyes and drowsed, preferring to stay awake than risk dreaming again. "You met with Granger and Weasley?"

"...yeah."

The hesitant reply told Draco he shouldn't ask any more about that. There'd probably been an argument and knowing those two, every single one of his faults and sins had been detailed, every reason that Harry should give up his new acquisition laid out. It wasn't surprising. He'd never given them a reason to like him. They still wondered what on earth Harry saw in 'an arrogant, scheming bastard who'd hadn't renounced the dark lord's plans or methods, but simply joined the winning side'." Which wasn't wrong, really. After switching sides and offering up a bit of Voldemort's soul as a gesture of good will, he'd been just as petty and vicious to everyone around him as before. And why should he have stopped? He enjoyed being spiteful and everyone who considered themself a 'good guy' was equally cruel in return.

Until one day Lupin had requested he make a particularly dangerous potion. Severus had been gone for weeks and without him, Draco was their best brewer. Working late at night in the kitchen at Grimauld Place, carefully adding one poison after another into the cauldron, Draco created a flawless batch of Adder's Nightmares while fighting the vapors that steamed up around him. It wasn't until the next morning when he couldn't wake up that Harry realized what risks Draco had been taking to create each potion they demanded of him.

As sick as he'd been from handling so much poison and breathing in the fumes as they boiled, Draco's memories of being weak in bed were some of his fondest. He'd been miserable at first, and since Harry was usually kept safe at the house while everyone else had Order duties to tend to, Harry was the one who stayed by his side.

"Draco?" Harry whispered. His knew his lover wasn't asleep and he worried whenever his Malfoy was too quiet. "Are you all right?"

"Just remembering..." Draco reached down and tugged the blankets back up to his shoulder. As warm as Harry was, the night was cold. "When I was sick at the Black house. And you took care of me."

"I remember that. You know, when you're too sick to be mean, you're actually pretty nice."

"Am I really that mean?" Draco whispered. He closed his eyes but had no intention of falling back asleep yet.

"You're horrible," Harry said. "You made Hermione cry and made me defend you from Ron, and you never stopped making dog jokes around Remus. You insulted Arthur every day and I think Molly wanted to beat you to death with her pots and pans. And poor Tonks..."

"I regret nothing regarding that blood-traitor," Draco said.

"Draco..."

"She started it," he said.

"She was just saying hello!"

"No, she said she was happy that we'd renounced our evil ways and decided to help you win against the forces of darkness." Leaning up on his elbows, he stared into Harry's eyes. "And you know she was wrong, Harry. You know we're still dark, we'll always be dark. For her to start on as if we'd change our entire lives to suit her whims--"

"I know," Harry said, putting his fingers on Draco's lips. "That really was stupid of her."

"They've always hated us," Draco mumbled. "They won't stop until we're all dead."

Harry didn't agree, but there was no point arguing when Draco believed it. And after the Ministry's actions while Harry had been in a deep sleep following the final battle, he had to admit Draco's fears held some truth. If he was honest with himself, he also knew that Draco had history on his side, the real history, not the endless useless conflicts with goblins, giants and centaurs that the Ministry put in the books, but Harry couldn't bring himself to believe that the wizarding world was so corrupt that it would willingly act even more despicably than Voldemort.

Because if he ever believed that, he would wonder if Draco was right that the Ministry should be destroyed. And that chain of thought would lead him down a very dark road indeed.

"I won't let anything bad happen ever again," Harry said. "I promise."

Draco gave him a suspicious look. "You might find that promise hard to keep."

"Doesn't matter." Harry reached up and gently pulled Draco back down again, running his fingers through his hair. After years of being the Dursley's whipping boy and then his yearly school adventures, his hands were well calloused and scarred. To his hands, touching Draco's hair felt like stroking a cloud. "I'll keep you safe forever, no matter what."

"I believe you." Pillowing his head on Harry's shoulder, Draco gave a small smile. And then in a soft voice that Harry couldn't hear, he added, "I'm counting on it."

TBC...