I know this is coming a little later than usual, but I am working on finishing my other story Tongue Tied, and I want that to have a comprehensive and satisfying ending, so I've been working hard on that. But I haven't neglected this, I promise! Enjoy this chapter, love you all xoxo

(And on a completely unrelated note, check out the song 'He Likes Boys' by Simone Battle. SO funny and cute)

"Every broken heart has screamed at one time or another: Why can't you see who I truly am?"
― Shannon Alder

Harry stood outside the expansive white wooden double doors of Malfoy Manor, hand raised as if to knock. He'd been standing there for over ten minutes, not quite knowing how to proceed. Harry wasn't even sure why he'd decided to visit the Malfoy Manor unannounced, knowing that whatever happened it probably wouldn't end well.

He hadn't come to see Draco, surprisingly. At that moment, after the way Harry had treated him back at Andromeda's, Draco was the last person he wanted to see. Harry knew there was a high possibility that they might cross paths anyway, seeing as Harry had come to his home. But no, Harry was there to speak with Narcissa.

Draco had said she wasn't prepared to talk to Harry yet or maybe ever, but Harry knew that he couldn't sit around and wait for her to make up her mind. What he desperately needed from Draco's mother was answers, and he would receive them by any means necessary. Even if it meant possibly coming face to face with Draco.

Finally, gathering up enough courage to actually move, Harry's fist came down on the door in three quick raps. There was no noise from inside, and Harry had begun to think no one had heard him, his knock getting lost in the vastness of the mansion, when the door creaked open. He looked down to see a rather small-looking house elf, with large dark eyes and oversized ears. With a pang of hurt he thought of Dobby but quickly pushed it aside.

"Hello Mr. Potter," said the house elf in a small voice. "Kitsy is pleased to make your acquaintance."

Harry blinked, caught off guard by having been recognized, though he knew he shouldn't have been. "Hi, Kitsy. Is Nar— . . . Mistress Malfoy at home?"

Kitsy nodded, her eyes growing even bigger. "Yes, sir, but Kitsy was told not to take in any visitors today. Mistress Malfoy is not feeling well."

"Can you please . . ." Harry sighed, dragging a hand across his forehead. "It's urgent business, Kitsy. Will you just tell Mistress Malfoy I'm here, and see what she says?"

Kitsy nodded. "One moment please, Mr. Potter." She abruptly slammed the door in his face.

Harry stood outside on the front porch, wringing his hands together and hoping beyond hope that Narcissa would just give him one chance to speak with her. Draco had said she wasn't well, and whether that was a mental or physical malady he couldn't be sure.

Harry felt a biting sensation at his leg, and looked down with a start. A graceful white peacock, which came up to his waist, was gently pecking his leg. Harry kicked the bird away, feeling guilty when it ruffled its feathers indignantly and strutted away across the immaculate lawn. It was then that Kitsy reappeared, opening the door wide enough to let Harry past her into the house. Harry strode forward, relief evident in his expression, and the house elf shut the door quietly behind him. "Follow me, Mr. Potter," said Kitsy, leading him past the foyer into what could only be described as a great room. A roaring marble fireplace took up most of one wall, with seemingly-comfortable chintz chairs of different patterns placed strategically around the room so they all faced the low sofa table set up in the center. The lighting was poor; only the glow from the fire provided any illumination, the blackout curtains have been drawn over all the windows. Reclining in a delicate high-backed maroon chair sat Narcissa, clutching at a steaming cup of tea and staring straight into the blazing flames.

"Mistress Malfoy, Mr. Potter is here to see you," announced Kitsy loudly. Harry winced, afraid a certain other occupant of the house might hear her.

"Thank you Kitsy," said Narcissa dismissively. "Harry, you may sit," the woman said without looking at him, but gestured to a chair with her free hand. Harry strode over quickly, appreciating the way his trainers sunk into the plush rug below his feet, and settled himself into the armchair Narcissa had suggested. From where he sat, he could look into the woman's face without obscuring her view of the fireplace. "Draco isn't here, Harry," said Narcissa tiredly, still not tearing her gaze away from the fire.

Harry breathed a loud sigh, his worries alleviated by this statement. "I didn't come here to see him, Narcissa. I came to see you."

It was her name that finally made the woman snap out of her trance. Her blue eyes came to rest upon the boy who was looking at her anxiously, and they softened. Harry could clearly see her age reflected in her face: her blonde hair was graying at the roots, the lines around her eyes and mouth were deep and defined, and fatigue clearly shone within her eyes. He could guess there was more beneath the surface, demons that jaded her beyond her years. Harry had had the same problems, before Draco came along.

He leaned forward, eager to keep Narcissa's attention. "I want to ask you something about my mother."

Narcissa's expression was unreadable; she hadn't reacted at all. "Ah," she said noncommittally, setting her tea down on the saucer. "What about her?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself, before reaching into his robes and pulling out the parchment he had been hanging on to since their visit to his old home. "I found these letters at the ruins of my parents' house in Godric's Hollow. They're a correspondence between you and Lily." He held the papers out as an offering, and Narcissa looked at them thoughtfully before gingerly pulling them from his fingers, her eyes skimming the faded calligraphy. Harry watched carefully, trying to gauge her response to the letters. Her clear, almost colorless blue eyes were shining and wide; he thought she may have been trying to hold back tears. Her lips, pale and thin, were parted, her tongue darting out to wet them subconsciously. If he looked closely, he could see the tremors shaking her hands, getting progressively worse until it became uncontrollable. Narcissa's sorrow was promptly replaced by fear; Harry, in a panic, called for Kitsy, who appeared by her Mistress's side immediately, holding out a small cup of something green and putting it to Narcissa's lips, who gulped it down with a shudder. Kitsy stroked the woman's arm, in a clear sign of affection Harry had never seen before in a house elf, before retreating back into the dark shadows of the house. Narcissa's eyes were still wide, but the panic in her expression was gone, tranquility soon replacing it. Harry thought about leaving, not understanding how she could be lucid after her fit, but Narcissa seemed perfectly fine to carry on their conversation as if nothing had happened. The woman finished the letters, her fingertips skimming over the words.

"Your mother was a lovely woman," she remarked. "Always kind; for a Muggleborn she was an extraordinary witch, better than most in my year."

"You went to school together?"

"Of course," said Narcissa softly. "I was a few years ahead, but her remarkable prowess reached even my self-obsessed Slytherin ears." There was a hint of regret in her voice. "She was not unlike that Muggleborn witch in your year that Draco always told me about, what was her name, starts with an H . . ."

"Hermione?"

"Yes," said Narcissa, nodding her head. "Top of her class, I presume?"

"Of course she was," Harry confirmed. "Would have been Head Girl if we'd gone and had a regular Seventh year. Now she's training to be a Healer at St. Mungo's."

"You sound very proud."

"I am. She's one of my best friends and she's happy. That's all that matters."

"Doesn't your happiness matter, Harry?"

The question blind sighted the boy completely. He reasoned that Narcissa was probably more insightful than he'd once thought. "Of course it does," he answered immediately.

"So why aren't you happy?"

It was the second time in a week he'd been called out on it, and figured he needed to disguise his emotions more carefully. But instead of covering it up with a lie, Harry decided to be outward and truthful. "I don't know what makes me happy anymore. I don't really know how to be happy."

Her head turned to the side, looking at Harry quizzically, a look in her eye that informed Harry she knew more than she was letting on. "But what about Draco?"

Harry blinked. "What about him?"

Narcissa didn't answer right away, obviously carefully piecing her response together. "I know that . . . Draco has been helping you." She looked to Harry for confirmation before continuing; he nodded. "The past is a scary thing to deal with, Harry, but it is in the past. If you're so focused on what has already happened, you'll miss everything that's passing you by in this tiny fraction of a moment in time. Don't take advantage of what you have; it'll be gone before you know it." She gestured to the room around her. "We almost lost it all, after the War. After Lucius—" she broke off, unable to finish that thought. "Well," she continued, "nothing has been the same. It will never be again. Do I wish I could go back and change some of the things I've done? Yes. Can I? No. I have accepted that, Harry. Maybe you should, too."

Harry nodded again, feeling a bit dumb but unable to say anything to follow that up. Narcissa looked down at her lap, the parchment jogging her memory and she realized the reason for his visit had yet to be discussed. "So, these letters," she said more cheerily, abruptly changing the subject. "I remember receiving this just before Halloween, and I found her request very odd. I didn't realize she really thought she was imminent danger; that's why I agreed. Lily had always been a bit paranoid, in my eyes. I never knew she had a reason to be until it was too late." Remorse colored her words. "When I received the news of what had happened, it filled me with dread and hate. Draco had just been born, he was sixteen months old and I feared for both our lives. Lucius—" but she seemed incapable of talking about him. "Our family was about to be ripped apart, again. It took . . . them . . . a while to realize Voldemort had been vanquished, or so it seemed, after his Killing Curse rebounded off you and on to him. Everyone else" and Harry knew she meant every Death Eater "suddenly felt lost or fearful but I only felt joy. I just wanted my family to be safe and happy and free from the darkness and evil that had always come with the Malfoy name.

"Honestly, Harry, I hadn't the faintest clue what had happened to you, and I was expressly forbidden to find out. I wanted to take you in, to appease Lily's death wish, so to speak. But I was told you were to be raised as a Muggle, protected from the Wizarding world to hide your past from you."

"But who? Who was protecting me?"

"Who else?" said Narcissa with a sad smile. "Dumbledore."

Of course. It would only make sense; his parents' deaths had been explained away as a car accident, his uncontrollable acts of magic labeling him a freak, different . . . His letter of acceptance to Hogwarts was the only indication of the world to which he really belonged, and that hadn't arrived until his eleventh birthday.

"And you never thought to check up on me once you found out I was alive, when I was reintroduced to the Wizarding world?"

"I didn't think you'd want that. I was told you were healthy and happy. I asked Draco to befriend you, as a means of gathering news of you, but you rejected his hand in friendship." She didn't look upset; in fact, oppositely, she seemed rather amused. "You were such opposites, I wasn't surprised one bit when Draco wrote home complaining Harry Potter didn't want to be his friend. You're much like your father that way. Intelligent." There was a twinkle of humor in her eyes, and Harry found himself laughing.

"Were they . . . were they good people? My parents?"

Narcissa frowned, her eyebrows stitching together. "Why would you ask that?"

"I've heard different stories about my father and mother, mostly from biased sources. Never having known them, it's hard what to judge what would have been in character for them and what would have been fabricated."

"It doesn't matter what they did as kids, Harry," Narcissa chastised lightly. "Past mistakes do not define you. It was what they were made of, their substance and composition, that tells you what kind of people they were. And your parents had hearts of gold."

Harry smiled at the woman gratefully, resisting the urge to cry. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly. "How rude of me, I didn't offer you any refreshments. Kitsy!" she called. The house elf appeared by her chair at once. "Fetch a pot of tea and some biscuits, will you?"

The elf nodded and disappeared with a crack. When she appeared she was balancing a tray on her tiny shoulders, upon which was a silver teapot, another cup and saucer, and a plate piled high with biscuits. She placed it carefully on the sofa table and walked out with a respectful bow. Narcissa poured Harry tea and he poured in milk and two sugars, stirring a moment before facing the woman again. She looked decidedly pleased that she was able to play hostess, grinning as Harry drank and nibbled at a cookie. "So," she said, her tone now light and conversational. "Are you coming to the wedding?"

Harry choked on his tea, clutching at his chest until he could clear his airway. "Excuse me?"

Narcissa blinked at him, clearly confused at Harry's reaction. "The wedding? Draco didn't tell you?"

"I'm sorry, whose wedding?"

"Well, Draco's of course!"

"What!?" Harry exclaimed, dropping the cup of tea into his lap, the hot liquid spilling everywhere. He stood up, the heat burning his skin, before he fumbled his wand out of his waistband and waved it, cleaning up the mess and fixing the cup. "Sorry," he muttered. There were words rising in his throat like bile, and he couldn't help but let them out. "And exactly who is Draco marrying?"

"Astoria Greengrass. She's a lovely young witch, and they agreed to marry just a couple weeks ago! She comes from a very respectable family, and the union will do good things to help the Malfoy name. I thought Draco would have mentioned it."

"Yeah, me too," said Harry spitefully, his brain still not fully processing what was happening. "But . . . I'm confused, I thought—" He stopped short, afraid that outing Draco in front of his mom would be a very large faux pas. "I just haven't seen him in a while, so maybe he was going to tell me when he saw me."

Narcissa nodded, sipping her tea thoughtfully. "Well, of course you're invited, dear. It's being planned and the date has been set for October 7th, so be sure to check your calendar."

Harry balked. "What, so soon?"

"Well, it won't really take that much time to prepare. And they had a very short courtship, so it only makes sense that they would want a short engagement also."

Harry felt like breaking down. His legs seemed too weak to hold him up anymore, but he also couldn't bear the thought of taking this sitting down. He began to pace in front of the fire, feeling it warm his legs to the point where he was uncomfortably hot, but he didn't move away.

"Harry, is there something wrong?"

Harry felt bewildered, actually pulling at his hair in frustration. How could he have let this happen? He lost Draco because he was so unwilling to let himself go and open up. Draco was going to get married – to a woman, no less – because Harry had been such a big moron and let him slip through his fingers. And now that he was finally accepting of his feelings, of how much he desperately wanted and needed Draco, it was too late. He was with someone else, and Harry could do nothing about it.

He broke down then, not caring where he was or who was around to see, because it hurt him too much not to. Keeping his emotions pent up in his chest only meant that they flowed more freely now, out into the open where everyone could see, and it was too late to reign them in and regain control of his body, so he relinquished his mind and heart to the tidal wave of pain and sorrow and regret that was crashing over his body, and all he could manage to think through the onslaught was Draco.

And Narcissa, who was watching the boy before her break down into sobs, somehow knew without words what Harry was going through. She understood that sometimes connections went deeper than just friendship, went beyond the surface of chemistry and turned into attraction. The innermost desires of the heart were the ones usually kept buried the deepest within, hidden from the world that might use those yearnings to twist into knives of hurt and leave nothing but painful scars. Nothing was scarier than the prospect of falling in love with someone who could not, for whatever reason, love you back.

A mothering instinct took over Narcissa, pulling her down to the floor where Harry was rocking back and forth with his head in between his knees, still keening and repeating her son's name. The woman pulled this boy who could have been her own son into her lap, and Harry relented to her yielding arms, gripping her tight to him and burying his head into her shoulder. His body shuddered, his hands trembled, his mouth moved with quiet admissions.

"I love him," Harry spoke through his tears, and the impact of the truthful words stabbed his body with crippling pain. "I love him and now it's too late."

Narcissa shushed him, stroking his hair gently, no awkwardness in the motion. She'd comforted Draco many nights after he'd woken from a nightmare and couldn't fall back to sleep. Just as she had then, Narcissa held the boy in her arms and promised it would be okay. Everything evened out eventually, and he had to believe that.

Finally he'd calmed down enough to pull back and look into her eyes. "I love Draco," he said, conviction ringing through the room. "I never thought I could feel this way about anyone, but I love your son. And I know he loves me too."

"Make it right," said Narcissa. And that was all the permission Harry needed from her.

"I will," he vowed.

Draco arrived home from his errands, slipping through the front door quietly. Kitsy was there in the foyer immediately, taking his trainers and light jacket and stowing them away, while Draco sorted through his various purchases.

"Shhh, Master Malfoy," said Kitsy in a hushed voice. "Mistress Malfoy has a visitor and didn't want to be disturbed."

Draco's eyebrows came together in confusion, wondering who could have called on his mother. "Who was it?"

Kitsy shook her head. "Can't say, Mistress Malfoy said not to."

"Did she have her medicine today?"

Kitsy nodded. "Kitsy gave it to her less than an hour ago."

"Okay, you may go." The house elf disappeared.

Worry and suspicion was creeping up in Draco. What if it was someone who wanted to harm his mother? He hardly thought it was someone calling just to check in.

Draco tiptoed down the hall and peeked into the great room from the foyer entrance. He saw his mother, talking to someone who was standing, facing away from him so he couldn't see a face. Frustrated, Draco crept down the hall to peer through the other doorway, squinting in the dim light.

What he saw made his stomach drop out from under him. There in his living room, talking to his mother, stood Harry Potter, whose eyes were gleaming wetly behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

"What, so soon?" he heard the boy say, his face a mixture of shock and pain.

"Well, it won't really take that much time to prepare," he heard his mother say, and from this angle it was her face that was hidden from view. "And they had a very short courtship, so it only makes sense that they would want a short engagement also."

Shit. Harry knew.

The boy's hands seemed to clutch at the air for a moment before deciding to yank on his hair. Right before his eyes Harry seemed to lose himself, crumbling to pieces in a way Draco hadn't seen before: because this was real pain, not a memory of it. And Draco felt it within his own chest, this heartache that felt as if it would never go away. Everything in his body was screaming at him to run to the other boy, or to run away, but he seemed rooted in place, unable to move or think.

But his mother was moving, gathering the crying boy into his arms – and Draco could see the youth now, after Harry's mask had dropped and the hardness left his features – and comforting him the way Draco should have been but knew he couldn't. He slumped against the wall, still watching the pair but feeling suddenly very exhausted and laden with guilt. Draco should have been the one to say something; the engagement was something that could have so easily been avoided, had only Harry said he felt the same way. But Draco wasn't to be made a fool out of; if Harry Potter didn't love him, well then, he certainly wouldn't waste his time waiting for him to change his mind.

Except that he had changed his mind. Or maybe never had, but had only just come to terms with it. But it was too late. After Harry had clearly rejected him after their visit with Andromeda, Draco made the formal presentation to Astoria, who gratefully and joyfully accepted. It was a necessary duty to his family, to produce heirs to uphold the family name, even if it meant he would be unhappy the rest of his life, because he wouldn't be spending it with the man he loved.

"I love him."

The admission may as well have been a knife, for how painfully and sharply it sunk into Draco's chest. Maybe he'd already guessed at it, but hearing vocal confirmation was nearly too much for him to comprehend.

"I love him and now it's too late." Both men had said it at the same time, Harry's a high wail of agony; Draco's was a low whisper of defeat.

Harry was still talking to his mother, but the only word Draco understood was love, over and over again. Each time was another rip at his heart; any more and it would tear completely in two.

"Make it right."

"I will."

Draco fought to keep the tears from slipping out, but they fell despite his best efforts. "I'm sorry Harry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Wow, some heavy stuff there! Hope it makes up for the longer wait. If you liked it, please let me know! Thank you all!