A/N: Ack, I'm really sorry this update took so long. I've been buried up to my eyeballs in work and essays. ):

Left you on an implied ending last chapter, that was rather fun! Did you like it?

Harry had his hands in his pockets, grinning conspiratorially– Surprised? he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Always," Draco turned to survey him properly, sighing in exasperation. He looked remarkably different– the unhealthy pallor had disappeared, untidy mess of black hair falling into his eyes. He frowned at the damp Auror robes, hanging open on his shoulders and slightly stained with blood.

Harry followed his gaze to the dark red patch. Stakeout, he said simply, shrugging. It happens.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "You're anaemic, Potter," he said, lowering his voice dangerously. "Please tell me you've seen a Healer."

I have, Harry agreed lightly. He winked as he dropped into the chair beside the bed. You.

"For Merlin's sake!" Draco hissed.

Relax, Harry said, patting his arm and rolling his eyes. I'll be fine, Hermione's seen it.

"The great Harry Potter is going to be defeated by a fainting spell," Draco grumbled.

Harry laughed and patted his head. Don't miss me too much.

Draco swatted his hand away and glared. Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a box of sweets, dropping it into his lap. It looked expensive, black leather embossed with the Honeydukes logo– he looked up at Harry, eyeing it suspiciously.

I'm delivering a gift, Harry stated, bowing his head mockingly.

Draco nodded– he supposed it made sense, Harry coming to visit him. It was rather welcome, since Mackenzie didn't seem to be returning to the room. He played with the ends of the bow, raising an eyebrow in questioning.

"What's this?" he asked warily.

A gift, of course, Harry deadpanned.

"How thoughtful," Draco simpered, pulling on the gold ribbon. Harry snorted and he looked up, confused. "What?"

It's not from me, Harry told him. Astoria sent it. Draco's eyes widened and he paused.

"Astoria?" he questioned, the alarm bleeding into his voice.

She's working with the Ministry now, Harry said, slowing into suspicion. Saw her at lunch today.

Draco continued unwrapping gingerly, cautious. Astoria wasn't known to send gifts, certainly not of the pleasant nature. Last christmas, he'd found a particularly vicious kneazle wrapped in a box, only too happy to leap out and destroy his cashmere sweater.

He peeked inside, breathing a sigh of relief at the number of innocent-looking chocolates inside it. "Thanks," he said, setting it aside.

Potion smuggling, Draco? Harry asked him, looking scandalised.

Completely clean, Auror Potter, Draco responded in kind, rolling his eyes. It felt odd, using sign language again. Harry's fingers still moved with the same grace, dancing through the air.

You're stiff, Harry said, reading his mind. Draco blushed slightly and turned away.

"Not everyone's an overachiever," he retorted weakly. Harry chuckled.

Perhaps not, he smirked. He cast a tempus and groaned, heaving himself off the chair.

"Where are you going?"

Robards wants me back at six, Harry said, stretching himself out.

Draco clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Slacking, Auror Potter."

You like it, Harry grinned, moving towards the door.

He hesitated as Harry searched for his wand in his pockets. "Thanks for this," he finally said, gesturing to the box beside his bed.

No problem, Harry shrugged. Then, he was gone.

"Don't you have a job to do? At all?" Draco asked, not looking up as Harry came in.

The third time this week, he noted down. He vaguely wondered if he'd brought any of those cakes from the Ministry, the sugar-coated ones– he had decided he quite liked those, sweeter than the scones at St. Mungo's. Harry sighed and sank into the chair, dark circles under his eyes. His nose was purple around the edges.

"What happened to you?" he asked, exasperated.

Ginny came home yesterday, Harry said, as if it explained everything.

He cocked an eyebrow, but didn't pause writing. "Back together, then?"

Harry snorted and shook his head. Got the worst Bat-Bogey Hex of my life, more like.

"Ah," Draco nodded in understanding, finishing his paragraph.

She decked me, too, Harry supplied, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Weaselette resorts to violence," Draco sighed.

Deserved it, Harry told him, shrugging again.

Draco rolled his eyes, not bothering to correct him. "Is she still at your place?"

She's at the burrow, Harry rubbed his left temple. Probably leaving with the Harpies tomorrow.

"I see," Draco said dismissively.

Hurts like hell, Harry complained, touching the purple spot lightly.

"How is it?" he asked, seeing the blossoming bruise on his face.

You've done worse, haven't you? Harry rolled his eyes. It's fine.

Draco flattened his lips into a hard line, suspicious. "Where else?"

Shoulder, Harry said, amused at his concern. Ron found out last night.

"The horror," Draco sighed sympathetically.

Harry nodded and leaned his head back on the chair back, exhaling slowly. Draco watched him carefully, not speaking a word. He picked his tea off the bedside table and sipped until Harry pulled out his wand, gripping it weakly.

"I didn't really expect to end up like this," his voice rang clear in Draco's head, but it was resigned, lonely.

"Like what?" Draco asked him.

"I thought maybe I'd be killed in the war," Harry replied honestly. "Not alive at twenty-four and bored out of my mind."

"What about the Aurors?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Can't do much," Harry admitted after a thoughtful pause. "Need to speak."

A pause. "In retrospect, half the Auror force talks too much," he added.

Draco laughed and Harry shot him a questioning look. "You could never be boring, Potter," he reassured him. "Let's see. Unicorns, two-faced men, basilisks, hippogriffs–"

"All right," Harry cut him off, smiling. "Enough for a lifetime."

"Isn't it?" Draco asked him, reaching down and stealing the muffin from Harry's bag. "More than enough."

Harry dropped the connection but he looked out the window. Perhaps, he mouthed. Draco pretended he didn't see, opening his sketchbook again. He pretended he didn't notice when Harry stood and left, too, leaving the sugar rolls behind on his seat.

The bruise had already faded when Harry returned to the hospital without his uniform.

"Afternoon," Draco nodded to him, working through his potions text. It was a new one, based on Severus' work– it rather amazed him how much his godfather had known but never said.

Why are you here? Harry asked him randomly.

"Excuse me?" Draco looked up, confused.

Here, I mean. Harry gestured to the room. You do have relatives, don't you?

Draco paused, staring at his legs. He barely remembered the feeling anymore, but he was able to sit up straighter since the injury– he was healing. It was rather encouraging, though he would never admit that out loud.

"Estranged aunt," he said softly. "That's the only 'family' I've got."

Andromeda? Harry raised an eyebrow.

He nodded. "Haven't seen her since the war."

Harry drummed his fingers on his jaw thoughtfully. Why not?

Draco shrugged, avoiding Harry's gaze. She was intimidating, reminding him of Narcissa. Slim, proper and sharp, always sitting primly in their greenhouse when she came for tea. Father had never liked her, but she had always managed to slip in twice a year to see his mother.

But his mother was dead. "She won't have me," he tried to phrase it ambiguously, shifting uncomfortably in the bed.

What makes you so sure? Harry asked, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. Draco leaned back against the pillows and folded his arms, hiding the Dark Mark.

"Wrong side of the war, remember?" he replied bitterly.

That was a long time ago, Harry protested.

"If only everyone was as forgiving as you, then," Draco shot back sharply, meeting his gaze. "It's not that easy, Chosen One6."

Harry winced. Sorry.

Draco's eyes softened. "It's not your fault," he admitted. "It's just–"

Harry waved him off. It's okay.

"It's not," Draco retorted. Harry looked at him sadly.

I'll talk to Andromeda, he said.

"It isn't about her," Draco replied, rolling his eyes.

I know. I'll still talk to her, Harry shrugged and continued.

"Don't," Draco put a hand on his arm. Harry watched him carefully and Draco remained resolute, shaking his head. "I'm fine."

If you say so.

"I do," Draco nodded.

He received a present from Astoria by owl two days later. It seemed odd, as if something were about to happen, but he ignored the feeling and tried to suppress the urge to contact her. Harry brought him something every day, now – a book, cake, specimen to draw – and he was rather pleased.

Pansy finally returned, too, her hair cut abnormally short. She looked taller, somehow, dressed in muggle clothing. She stalked in and dropped her weight on the bed, pulling off her gloves in a huff.

"Your hair," Draco tutted. She ran a hand through it, sighing.

"Daphne cut it for me," she whined, leaning against him.

"Drunk and blindfolded?" Draco laughed, picking through the choppy strands.

"You've no idea," she groaned. "She's pants at charms."

"You let her," Draco patted her arm unsympathetically.

Pansy glared at him. Draco shrugged and she swatted lightly, slumping back against his pillows. "You should move in with someone," she told him. "A friend."

"All of you are bent on freeing me, aren't you?" he joked lightly. Pansy reached an arm behind her head.

"Who else?" she asked casually.

"H– Potter," he said, catching himself.

"Could've moved in with me," Pansy rest her head on his shoulder.

Draco looked at her curiously. "Are you offering?"

She snorted. "I can't. Blaise would hate it."

Draco laughed. "Merlin forbid I infringe on your romantic endeavours."

Pansy sobered and surveyed him carefully, opening and closing her mouth as she looked for the right words. "What about Potter, then?" she asked seriously, after a pause.

"You're kidding," Draco responded flatly. "We're hardly friends."

"Not from what I'm hearing," she snickered, pushing herself to her feet. Draco raised an eyebrow and Pansy winked deviously. "You've got yourself a crush on Harry Potter, haven't you?"

"I'm engaged, Pans," he rolled his eyes.

"And in love with Potter," she sang.

He scoffed. "Ridiculous."

"Hardly," Pansy assured him. "Everyone's always thought so."

"Incorrigible, then, all of you."

She shrugged, unaffected. Draco huffed in exasperation.

Harry brought his godson to the hospital for a checkup once, visiting him as they waited for sample analysis results. Remus Lupin's son did possess certain lycanthrophic qualities, constantly chewing on his tongue by accident around the full moon.

Teddy Lupin was a rather curious child, always asking to touch everything. Draco had him in his lap, arms circling him awkwardly as Harry went to call for a nurse.

"My papa was an Auror once," Teddy was telling him.

"He taught me in school," Draco supplied softly, remembering seeing Remus Lupin spread-eagled on the floor of Hogwarts. "He was a good teacher."

"Harry thinks so too," Teddy seemed pleased, turning around to gaze at him.

"What do you want to be, then?" Draco asked him, trying to entertain him as he noticed Teddy's attention on his sketchbook.

"I'm going to play Quidditch someday," he announced proudly, snatching the snitch off his bedside table. He tossed it between his hands, deft and practiced.

"Are you?" he asked indulgently. "And what will you play?"

"Seeker, of course," Teddy sniffed disdainfully. "Like Harry."

Draco laughed. "I was a seeker, too."

The electric blue eyes went impossibly wide with admiration. "You were?"

"Harry always beat me, though," Draco admitted. Teddy patted his arm consolingly.

"That's okay, Harry's very good," he said. Draco chuckled.

He whipped his head around as Harry stepped back into the room. Draco watched them, listening to Teddy chatter as Harry spoke to him in his mind– he supposed it must have looked rather odd, the two of them staging one-sided conversations in his room regularly.

"He said he lost to you all the time," Teddy was telling Harry. "You're so mean."

A pause, before Teddy laughed. Harry ruffled his hair and Draco cocked his head. curious. Harry shook his head with a nostalgic smile, obviously hiding something else.

"What?" Draco asked him, worried.

"Nothing," Teddy grinned. Harry picked him up and he yelped, suddenly finding himself slung over his shoulder.

Andromeda's waiting for us, he signed to Draco. Want to come?

Draco stiffened, meeting Teddy's excited gaze. He glanced over at his wheelchair in the corner, biting his lip. "I'm not quite ready for that," he said softly.

Harry's gaze lingered for a moment before he sighed. If you say so.

"What do you want me to say?" Draco replied sharply, fixing him with a glare. "I'm not ready to face her yet. God, did you see her at my mother's..."

He trailed off as Harry walked away from him, Teddy sitting comfortably in his arms. "That was a long time ago," his voice repeated in his head. Draco slumped back against the pillows, not daring to think.

"She misses you, you know," Harry told him before breaking the connection. Draco ignored the sense of guilt overwhelming him, turning over and trying to fall asleep.

Harry didn't visit for a week after that– he was in Russia, pursuing another of the Death Eaters. He had sent Granger to visit him with a box of sweets on Wednesday, and the Weasel on Saturday with a book from his own library. (Merlin knew how Harry had it, it had been confiscated from the manor after the war.)

He found himself drawing more, contemplating less. Draco was happier, listening to the stories Harry told him when he visited. He still took his wheelchair around the hospital, having tea with Katie in her office whenever he could– he supposed that was the next best thing.

It was silent again, not having any patients. Harry continued to fill the silence from a distance, sending an armada of blasted owls every day over the seas to reach him. He fed each one the richest treat he could find before sending them back, finding himself worried that Harry wouldn't get them.

Draco rolled his eyes and sent the snowy back out the window, vaguely wondering if it was safe in St. Petersburg.

He was fast asleep when Mackenzie shook him awake, slightly flustered.

Draco pried his eyes open blearily as she felt his forehead, helping him sit up. "Draco," she tried to get his attention, but he lolled his head back and refused to meet her gaze. "Come on, Draco," she tried again, shaking him slightly.

"Where's the bloody fire?" Draco groaned, finally opening his eyes.

"There's a visitor for you," Mackenzie explained hurriedly. "Seems important."

"A visitor?" Draco rubbed at his face, trying to pull himself together.

"Tall, dark hair," Mackenzie got out, grabbing his chair from the corner of the room. "Relative of yours, she says?"

Draco shuffled himself to the corner of the bed, sliding into the chair. "I highly doubt it," he yawned sleepily, letting her wheel him out. He rested his head in his hand and closed his eyes again, dozing off on his hand.

They went to Mackenzie's office and Draco's jaw fell open, seeing his aunt sitting in one of the couches in her dressing gown.

"Healer Malfoy," she nodded to him immediately.

"Aunt Andromeda," he replied instinctively, his back straightening under her hawk-like gaze. "What's wrong?"

He couldn't meet her eyes, distinctly uncomfortable facing her. She had the same eyes as his mother, exuding the regality as she spoke. She softened her look and took his hand, pleadingly. "Harry needs help," she told him softly. "There was blood everywhere–"

Draco's eyes widened. "Where?"

"The bathroom," she told him. "Bathtub, I don't know how he survived it–"

"Why didn't you go straight to the Emergency Ward?" he asked her, confused. "Why me?"

"You're his friend," she looked him straight in the eye. "He doesn't trust anyone."

"Where is he now?" Draco asked, avoiding the interrogation. Harry needed help– he wouldn't have the saviour of the wizarding world dying in the middle of the night.

"In bed," she said. Softer, she added, "Stunned."

"Good," Draco told her. "And the wounds?"

"Closed, but he's so pale."

Draco nodded his approval. "All right, I'll come."

He paused, turning to Mackenzie. "Blood replenishing potions, Sleeping draught, my painkillers from the office. Can you do that?"

She nodded and took off. He turned back to Andromeda, shaking off his discomfort. "Right, then," he said. "Mind if we take the floo?"

She weakly smiled his mother's smile. "Not at all."

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