It had taken a lot of wheedling, and what felt like too many promises, but Harry had finally gotten what he wanted, from both Hermione and McGonagall. He was enjoying getting gifts from Draco, but it didn't stop him from feeling guilty at the same time. Just because the ritual said that Draco had to give him gifts didn't mean that he couldn't return the favour.

He knew Draco would kick up a fuss if he started gifting him things for no reason – he'd probably say that it went against the rules. Draco wasn't the boy he once was, who believed he deserved to be pampered simply due to being born a Malfoy. As much as most people – including Ron and Hermione – would find it difficult to believe, the war and the things Voldemort had forced him to do had robbed him of much of his self-confidence. His announcement on Christmas Eve had most probably been spur of the moment – Harry suspected he had been as shocked as the rest of the school.

Hermione believed that Draco would try his very best to make sure Harry said nothing until the formal end of the ritual in order to stick to tradition, but Harry knew better. Sure, tradition was a part of it, but a larger part was the fact that no matter what he had told him on Christmas, Draco just wasn't sure of his answer. Harry hoped that what he had planned for tomorrow would take care of those doubts once and for all.

Valentine's Day dawned bright and clear. Harry groggily got up to the sound of what sounded like a girl's high-pitched squealing. He slowly realized that it was actually Seamus panicking rather loudly on the other side of the dorm.

"What the bloody hell is going on there?" Ron moaned.

It was Dean who replied, sniggering. "He forgot that today's bloody Valentine's Day – and he hasn't gotten anything for his date."

Harry's head snapped up at that, all irritation at being woken up forgotten. "He got a what – oh bloody hell, it's Valentine's Day." He could feel the panic setting in – why exactly had he thought that this was a good idea again?

"Yeah – and Malfoy's already left, so no need to look so worried." Dean replied, the grin on his face growing larger as more of the boys woke up, realized the date, and joined Seamus and Harry in the Land of Panic. As one of the few unattached eighth year boys, Dean claimed it was his prerogative to treat his dorm mates panicking over romance as one continuous movie.

"He said he'll be in "the room" – said you'll know what that is – and he's left you something on your table," he continued.

Harry turned his head to his bedside table and realized that Draco had indeed left something for him – a box of what looked like extremely expensive (though delicious) chocolates), and a note on top of it.

Giving Dean a suspicious look – they may not have had Ron's appetite, but none of the boys in the dorm were going to ignore chocolate sitting right in front of them, with it's owner asleep – he reached out to open the note.

Harry,

Happy Valentine's Day. I'm sure that Thomas has passed my message on to you by now, so I see no need in repeating myself. Don't worry about your dorm mates – both the box and the note are keyed to your magical signature, so you will be the only person able to touch them.

Considering your chocoholic (when in Merlin's name did I start using words like chocoholic?) tendencies, I though that it was time you had something of actual quality instead of that drivel from Honeydukes.

Draco

Harry opened the box of chocolates, nearly drooling at the selection he saw in there. He picked out one – a dark chocolate and raspberry concoction – and popped it into his mouth, as a pleasure-filled moan escaped him. It tasted delectable – and then he opened his eyes and noticed Ron and Dean staring at the box in his hands with a ravenous look in their eyes. He immediately placed the box on his table and got up, moving towards the showers. He was sure that one of them would try to filch it – just as he was equally sure that Draco had made sure that anyone who tried to steal his chocolates would ay for it dearly. He couldn't wait to see what they would look like at breakfast.

Draco was exactly where he said he would be, in a small, private room he had found the previous year. It was located in the dungeons, which was why he had found it so easily. Though their aborted seventh year held a lot of bad memories for Draco, this room wasn't one of them. He had once confessed to Harry that he was only comfortable with being himself in this room, a habit born of years of hiding. This was the place Draco spent most of his time in. He still slept in the dorm because it was the rule, but almost all of his free time inside the castle was spent here.

When Harry entered the room, Draco was fiddling with an ornately decorated box. He looked up as the other boy entered the room.

"The message you left was rather curious. Why didn't you want me to open the box until you got here?"

Harry smiled proudly at that. It had taken some extremely fiddly spell-work to create the object in Draco's hands.

"Why don't you open it and find out?" he replied, sidestepping the question.

Giving Harry an annoyed look, Draco did exactly that. As soon as he opened the box, a soft, gentle tune filled the air. A few seconds later, the sound of a man joined the music in the air.

Draco gazed at the box in wonder, tracing the intricate pattern on its border, before closing it and raising his head to look at Harry, a look of awe on his face.

"Which song is that?" he whispered.

Harry's heart felt as though it was about to burst out of his chest at the look on Draco's face. He could barely speak for fear of his words breaking at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of him.

"It's a combination of two muggle songs, actually. They'll play in sequence if you leave the box open. The songs are called Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You and I Knew I Loved You."

"Potter –" Harry put a finger to Draco's lips before he could say the words of protest he knew were about to be spoken.

"Just listen to them, please?" He asked earnestly.

Draco looked at him for a long moment, before letting out a defeated sigh. "Alright, Harry. Just – stop with the eyes! I thought we decided you weren't allowed to use them."

Harry smiled sunnily back at him. "With you, one needs to know when to play dirty, Draco," he replied, before turning serious once again. He took Draco's face in his hands, giving it a long, searching stare.

"Just – know that I mean everything in the songs, okay? I may not have realized it before, but I do."

Against his will, Draco's lips curled up into a soft smile. "Alright Potter. Now leave – I want to listen to this music box alone. I'll meet you at breakfast," he said in a tone of fond irritation.

Harry turned to walk to leave. Halfway to the door, he turned back, walked towards Draco, and, summoning up all his courage –

"Potter? What –"

– leaned up and kissed Draco on the cheek. Before Draco could say anything, he quickly turned and fled the room, deciding discretion was the better part of valour.

Because he didn't turn back again, he missed he sight of the beatific, if slightly goofy, smile that appeared on Draco's face.

A/N: The songs that Harry uses here are 'Nothing's Gonna Change My Love For You' by Air Supply, and 'I Knew I Loved You' by Savage Garden.

An explanation why Draco is so intrigued by the music box - I see the purebloods using magic for everything, so if they need to play music, it's either over the WWN or through the use of spells. So Draco hasn't really seen a music box as such, and it is a fascinating and new concept for him.

Also written for AlwaysPadfoot's 52 weeks of Writing 2013 competition, using the compulsory prompt Sneaky