It had been less than a week, and Harry and Draco were already plotting their escape from Privet Drive. Draco was hard-pressed to choose which was worst: his "home" or Harry's. Though the Dursleys had yet to lay a hand on him – and Draco suspected Harry's involvement where his safety was concerned – that hadn't kept them from beating up on Harry. Draco healed him the best he could without the aid of magic – since Harry was the only "registered" wizard living at Privet Drive, Draco, despite being able to legally use magic outside of Hogwarts, would have attracted too much unwanted attention – but there was only so much he could do. At night, while Harry lay in bed asleep – though he had offered the bed to Draco, who was his guest, Draco had flat out refused, insisting that Harry needed it more than he did and that he could get by on the floor – Draco lay awake plotting ways to put himself in the line of fire and take the heat off of Harry. At the rate things were going, there wouldn't be anything left of Harry to rescue whenever the Order planned to act.
Draco turned on his side to find Harry tossing and turning in his sleep. Vernon's latest beating had been particularly unpleasant, so it was no wonder that Harry was having a hard time finding a comfortable position to lay in. He was whimpering, and Draco leaned closer to try to hear what he was saying.
"Please, not Draco," Harry was saying. "Take me; hurt me instead."
Stunned by what he had heard, Draco lay frozen for a minute. There were only two possibilities as to what Harry could be dreaming about: either Voldemort had him, or Vernon was threatening him. To calm Harry, and to prevent him from alerting his relatives – Draco still shuddered at the thought of one of Vernon's midnight "visits" when Harry had woken up the whole house with his yelling from some nightmare or other – Draco carefully climbed into the bed behind Harry and held him in his arms, pinning Harry to his chest. Although Draco knew he was surely overstepping some boundary or other, he was willing to risk being punished to be close to the boy he loved. Contrary to what Draco had expected him to do, Harry subconsciously curled in closer to him, nestling his head in the crook of Draco's neck and sighing contentedly. Draco smiled back, and dared to press a kiss to Harry's forehead, directly over his distinctive lightning bolt scar. With that, the two boys fell asleep, wrapped in each other's arms.
When Harry woke in the morning, it was to discover Draco pressed up against his back. Though the feeling was not unpleasant – as a matter of fact, Harry could have stayed in Draco's embrace all day – Harry had work to do if either of them expected to eat and remain reasonably healthy until the Order could get to them.
"Draco," Harry whispered, turning within Draco's arms to gently shake him awake. "Dray," he whispered again, slightly louder. "I have to get up. There's work that needs to be done."
Draco moaned as he slowly woke up. He'd been having the best dream he could ever remember having: he'd been holding Harry in his arms – they were asleep together – and Harry was actually enjoying being held by him. Draco sat up abruptly when he felt something move beside him; he was instantly awake, as though someone had doused him in cold water. He turned his head and was met by a pair of emerald-green orbs. With a startled yelp, he fell off the bed and scooted backwards on his hands and feet to the opposite side of the room where his single blanket and flattened pillow lay discarded.
"I'm sorry," he whimpered, holding his hands up in surrender, as though to shield his face from the blows he seemed expect.
Inwardly, Harry groaned and rolled his eyes. He'd thought that he and Draco had been making progress. He understood that Draco still had memories of his time with Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and that he still retained some of the behavior he had adopted to placate them. But at the same time, Harry thought that Draco would have realized by now that he wasn't going to hurt him. They were friends, after all.
"Draco, it's okay; I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly, lowering himself on to the floor so as to be level with Draco and extending an arm in his direction. On his hands and knees, Harry slowly approached where Draco sat cowering in the corner, until he was close enough to touch the trembling young man. However, he held back, wary of frightening Draco further.
"BOY!"
They were interrupted by Vernon yelling for Harry.
"We'll talk later," Harry promised Draco, who shivered in anticipation, taking Harry's words as a threat rather than the assurance they were meant as. His action did not go unnoticed by Harry, who vowed to put more work into convincing Draco that he didn't mean him any harm; he only wanted to love him and take care of him.
Draco remained frozen in place long after Harry had left. He didn't know what had come over him, overstepping the boundaries separating him and Harry as he had. But whatever the consequences, he couldn't regret his actions. Though reason told him that he and Harry could never be together – circumstances being what they were and all – Draco couldn't help but dream of a future in which he and Harry were a couple. He loved Harry; he really did. Though some would scoff and others would laugh at the idea of a Malfoy possessing a heart – not to mention freely giving that heart away – Draco knew that Harry held his in the palm of his hands. And that's why he was willing to submit to whatever Harry asked – or demanded – of him, without uttering a complaint, because he loved him.
Harry returned briefly, long enough to serve Draco breakfast, of which he'd managed to save a little out of the pittance the Dursleys allotted them both. Thankfully, Harry had sent Hedwig to stay with the Weasleys, so he didn't have to worry about feeding her as well. There wasn't time enough to talk about Draco's behavior from that morning, but Harry's eyes promised that they would be having a long discussion later that night. Although, logically, Draco knew that he had nothing to fear from Harry – the boy obviously cared for him and thus would never hurt him – Draco couldn't stop his mind from returning to the countless "sessions" during which he had been put under the Cruciatus Curse, and countless others, to convince him to swear allegiance to Lord Voldemort and to accept the Dark Mark. While Draco knew that neither of them could use magic while at the Dursleys, that didn't mean that Harry didn't have other "methods of persuasion" at his disposal. After all, Draco's own father had favored his belt on occasion. What was to keep Harry from doing the same? Draco shook his head to clear it of such dismal thoughts. Harry was too kind and good to hurt him in such a way; he wouldn't lay a hand on him unless Draco requested it.
Though Draco was bored staying inside all day, he honored Harry's request that he stay out of sight – and, therefore, out of mind – away from the Dursleys. As Harry was only thinking of his best interests, Draco had no problem acting as Harry wished. What he didn't know was that Harry wanted him to fight back, like he used to when they were younger. Harry had loved baiting Draco into arguing with him, and wanted to see some of that fire again. But Voldemort, Lucius, and the rest of the Death Eaters had extinguished Draco's flame, and Harry was at a loss as to how to reignite it. Harry knew that he was strong enough to take care of both of them where the Dursleys were concerned – he would take a beating for Draco's sake any day – and he wouldn't have minded some company as he completed the mindless chores that the Dursleys assigned to him. But Draco stayed quietly shut up in Dudley's second bedroom, waiting for Harry to come to him.
That night, Harry dragged himself upstairs to take a quick shower – the Dursleys only gave him and Draco a few minutes, at most, to take care of their bodily needs; at all other times they were locked inside their room, except when Harry was out doing his chores – before letting himself in, placing a plate that was less than a quarter full at Draco's feet.
"Sorry there's not more, but you know what they're like," he said.
"Yes, I know all too well," Draco replied, grimacing as he recalled the first time Harry had come to him beaten and bloody. He would have left the sanctuary of their room and called the Dursleys out on the treatment of their nephew had it not been for Harry himself, whose injuries had needed immediate attention.
Draco ate in silence, slightly tense as he waited for Harry to start what was sure to be a painful discussion. Why couldn't he make Harry understand that being submissive was all he felt comfortable with anymore? He didn't know how to be that arrogant cocky little boy that had first caught Harry's eye, and he didn't trust others' reactions to that same attitude. He just wanted to be safe and loved – by Harry, if he had his way.
"I wish you'd relax around me," Harry said at last. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"I know that," Draco whispered.
"Well, you certainly don't act like it," Harry snapped.
"I don't know how to act anymore," confessed Draco as he tried to collect his scattered thoughts. "I've been beaten so much that I've come to expect it from everybody, even those who I know would never lay a hand on me without first asking."
"Are you saying you actually like being roughed up?" asked Harry in bewilderment.
"All I'm saying is that I've grown used to it," Draco explained, "And with the right person, I might come to enjoy a little pain mixed with pleasure."
Harry sat observing Draco for several minutes. In this single conversation, he'd learned more about his former rival than he'd ever known before. One thing that he hadn't expected was for Draco to be a masochist. He'd always pegged him as being a sadist. But, Harry supposed, that description seemed to better fit what he knew of Lucius's character than it did Draco's.
"So what happened this morning?" asked Harry, bringing the conversation back around to his original purpose.
"I heard you having a nightmare," said Draco. "So I got into bed in the hopes that my being near would calm you down. I meant to leave after you'd quieted, but I must have fallen asleep. Then when I woke up, I was startled to find you so close to me, as I'd forgotten what I'd done the previous night. I'm sorry if I overstepped my boundaries—"
"Hush," Harry ordered, interrupting whatever Draco had been about to say. He heard Draco's jaw snap shut, and he set about to alleviate his fears. "I liked having you close to me like that. As a matter of fact, I was going to ask if you would continue sleeping with me. I think having you near really does help."
"You're serious?" Draco was flabbergasted. Here he was expecting to be punished and Harry was asking if he'd continue to sleep in the same bed as him. "Sure, I'd love to."
"Great, then it's all settled." Harry beamed at him, and his joy was so infectious that Draco couldn't resist smiling back.
The two then got ready for bed. Harry climbed in first and held back the covers, gesturing for Draco to join him. He cautiously did so, tensing his muscles until Harry took him in his arms and began stroking his hair, a method that never failed to calm Draco down. They fell asleep tangled up in each other, and both would agree that this was how it should always be: just the two of them, without the threat of a Dark Lord or abusive relatives hanging over their heads.
The rest of the month passed in a similar manner: Harry would get up to work in the morning, leaving Draco behind; Draco would spend the day entertaining himself with thoughts of happy endings for him and Harry; the evening would be spent talking about anything and everything; they would then get ready for bed and fall into a light slumber, always on alert for danger, either from Harry's relatives or from Voldemort himself.
Harry's birthday finally drew near, and with it, the two young men's chances to leave Privet Drive behind once and for all.
On the night in question, various members of the Order arrived, including Ron and Hermione. Draco was just as glad to see them as Harry was, for they were the first people besides Harry who had accepted his change of heart and welcomed him to their circle of friends. Mad-Eye Moody, who Draco had mixed feelings about – not the least because the fake Moody had turned him into a ferret – explained to the Dursleys that it would be in their best interests to leave while they still could, otherwise Voldemort might use them to get to Harry. Harry, Draco, and the Dursleys all snorted at the notion that Harry would come to the Dursleys rescue were Voldemort to capture them. Ron and Hermione eyed them speculatively, but decided that after a little over a month spent in such repulsive company, they were entitled to be cynical.
The Dursleys quickly packed what they could fit in their single car. Harry and Draco stood in the hallway watching them leave. Petunia and Dudley passed by without comment; Vernon moved to "gift" Harry with a parting punch, but Draco got in the way, finally repaying Harry's kindness in some small way, even if it was by taking a blow in his place. Moody roughly shoved Vernon along, telling him to be on his way, before turning to face the two young men. Harry had Draco's face between his hands and was examining the bruise that was quickly forming around his eye. Draco tried to shake Harry off, but Harry wouldn't be dissuaded.
"I've had years of experience with dear Uncle Vernon," said Harry, he and Draco sharing a look the others couldn't interpret. "Be thankful he didn't put all of his force behind his fist."
"Enough of this sentimentality," said Moody gruffly, who pretended not to notice as Harry planted a quick kiss over Draco's injured eye. "I need to explain how we're getting you out of here."
Harry and Draco joined the others in the living room, standing close enough to hold hands had they so wished. Hermione and Ron had linked hands; Harry eyed them shrewdly, before motioning that they would talk later. Hermione signed the same back to him, moving her eyes rapidly between his and Draco's bodies, which would occasionally brush against each other. Draco seemed hyper-aware of their close proximity, jumping at the slightest touch, while Harry was almost pleased, if Hermione had to guess at his emotions.
As expected, Harry was horrified to hear that his friends had actually volunteered to put themselves in harm's way to ensure that he got to the Burrow safely. Hermione stepped forward and yanked out a few strands of Harry's hair. As she had also predicted, Draco joined the group preparing to take Polyjuice Potion, ignoring Harry's look of alarm and his attempts to keep Draco by his side.
Moments before taking the potion, Draco surged forward suddenly and captured Harry's lips in a bruising kiss. "I love you, Harry," he whispered intently. "Always have; always will."
"I know," Harry replied. "I love you, too, Draco."
Their eyes never leaving each other, Draco swallowed the vile concoction in a one gulp, grimacing as it hit the back of his throat. "How did you ever manage to take this when you were only in your second year?" he rasped.
"It wasn't easy," said Harry with a laugh.
Harry and Draco's playful banter was interrupted by a series of gasps as the effects of the Polyjuice Potion set in.
"Bloody hell, mate; what happened?" exclaimed Ron.
"Why? What do you mean?" asked Harry.
"Harry, you've been hurt," Hermione explained.
"Well, of course I was. You can't spend over a month around Uncle Vernon and expect to come out unscathed," said Harry.
"Why didn't you tell any of us?" asked either Fred or George. "We would have taken you in, and gladly."
"Thanks, guys." Harry smiled at who he thought were the twins. "I just didn't want to worry anyone, that's all."
"We can discuss Potter's home life when we've arrived at the safe house," Moody interjected. "Malfoy, you're with me."
"Of course I am," Draco muttered under his breath. "The name's actually "Draco," sir," he said.
"Fine; Draco, with me," said Moody. "Everyone, stick with your partner and don't stop for anything, no matter what happens."
Time seemed to speed up after that. Harry and Draco didn't even have a chance to properly say goodbye before each was up in the air; Harry was with Hagrid and Draco was with Moody. As it turned out, Moody was right to be paranoid: Death Eaters were waiting for them and the Order's rescue soon turned into a fast and furious chase. Draco lost sight of Harry; he wasn't worried, though, he knew that Harry could take care of both himself and Hagrid, not to mention that Draco would surely feel something were Harry to die or be hurt. Draco didn't have any more time to think about Harry, though; he was forced into fighting for his own life, and that of Moody's. Any spell that came to mind, Draco used without hesitation. To falter could be the difference between life and death. With their combined efforts, Moody and Draco made it safely away.
Draco tumbled to the ground outside the Burrow – the potion must have worn off at some point, because he looked like himself again – and was met by both Harry and Ginny, who immediately assaulted Draco, wrapping their arms tightly around him.
"Can't – breathe –" he gasped.
"Thank the Merlin you're alright," Harry murmured, before brushing their lips together.
Draco responded enthusiastically to the kiss, moving closer to Harry so that their bodies were aligned, and sucking lightly on Harry's bottom lip in a silent plea for entrance, which Harry gladly granted. Tongues darted out to explore new territory, and Draco thought he would explode from the sheer pleasure of kissing Harry. He could feel his blood running both hot and cold out of excitement coupled with fear; his stomach was coiled in tight knots of anticipation; and he saw stars behind his eyelids. When they finally pulled away, Draco couldn't find the words to speak; all he could do was stare. Harry leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. When that wasn't enough, he brought his arms around Draco and guided the taller boy's head down to rest on his shoulder. They clung to each other as they would to a life line, which was very near the truth, as far as Draco was concerned.
Throughout this entire exhibition, Ginny stood with her arms crossed, an amused smile playing across her face as she wondered when Harry and Draco would finally come up for air. When they eventually drew apart, and then held on to each other as if they were trying to become the same person, so desperate to be close to one another, she smiled tenderly at the myriad of emotions playing across their faces. Though she had yet to find that special somebody who would set her heart racing and her blood pumping, she hoped that he – or she; Ginny was an open-minded witch, after all – would look at her the same way that Harry and Draco looked at each other. That was true love, right there.
"I'm so happy for you both," she said, speaking for the first time since Draco's arrival.
"Ginny," they both exclaimed, and opened their arms to welcome her to their circle of love.
The trio simultaneously retreated, and Ginny took a moment to observe the two boys. They were both entirely too skinny – of course, that was to be expected coming from the Dursleys; every summer that Harry had spent with her family, he had always eaten several portions of her mother's cooking for at least the first week; she'd noted how he fell to the food as though he were starving; clearly, he had been, and so had Draco by the look of things – and their manner appeared to have changed. Harry and Draco held themselves differently. Of course, following his change in allegiance, Draco had lost his arrogant façade in favor of hardly speaking at all. But he and Harry seemed to have come to an agreement, of sorts. Draco hung back, all while not appearing to, choosing to let Harry take the lead whereas before he would have fought tooth and nail to be hailed as the leader. Harry seemed more confident in himself. Whatever had happened between him and Draco had changed his outlook on life.
Ginny had no more time to ponder these changes before her mother came bustling outside to embrace the boys and welcome them home. All four trooped inside where they waited for the others to arrive. Thankfully, everyone showed up on time and with no losses: the Order had successfully completed their mission.
The Burrow's inhabitants soon settled into a routine as preparations for Bill and Fleur's wedding proceeded without a hitch. Molly Weasley worked hard at keeping Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione occupied with different tasks so that they had no chance to talk about when or how they would leave, or even where they would go next. However, Ginny proved a valuable asset by relaying messages between the quartet, and luckily, Molly never suspected that Harry or any of the others would have let her youngest and only daughter in on whatever they were up to.
Leading up to the wedding, Harry attempted to talk Ron, Hermione, and Draco out of coming along, but was quickly shot down when Hermione explained the lengths she had gone to protect her parents to ensure that she could actually come along, and Ron showed him the ghoul that normally lived up in the attic but would take over Ron's room and pretend to be him, thus allowing Ron to leave undetected. Draco was the most passionate in his refusal to let Harry go alone. As it was the most fire Harry had seen in Draco since before their reconciliation, he surprised all those present by launching himself at Draco and firmly attaching their lips together. This prompted Ron and Hermione to share a simple peck, which Harry and Draco were quick to tease them about.
Following Harry's safe arrival at the Burrow, Ron and Hermione had taken him and Draco aside and shared with them the news that they were now together. Harry's only response had been to exclaim, "Finally!" and congratulate both parties on what had been a long time coming, as predicted by him and practically everyone else at Hogwarts. Since then, the jokes had hardly ever stopped, certainly not where the twins were concerned.
The day of Harry's birthday dawned, and with it, the day before the wedding. Harry and Draco had been rooming with Ron. Draco surprised Harry by initiating a fiery kiss that sent Harry's blood racing and his heart pumping, and woke him up in an awful hurry. When Ron woke up and found their lips attached – yet again, but when were they not? – his response was to throw a pillow in their direction, effectively breaking them up.
"Oi," he exclaimed. "A kiss here and there is fine, but not a full-on snog, at least not till I'm more fully awake. You don't see me and Hermione going at it all the time, do you?"
"Fine, fine," Harry said, laughing as he held his hands up in surrender. Draco reluctantly withdrew, but his eyes held the promise of more to come.
The day was fraught with tension, the quartet's impending departure hanging over everyone's heads. Though Harry felt guilty for the stress he was surely causing the Weasleys, he couldn't back out of his promise to Dumbledore, not when he had the weight of the wizarding world resting on his shoulders. Nonetheless, he tried his best to enjoy the day, and Draco certainly helped distract him from what was to come. Ginny would join them for walks around the garden, as would Ron and Hermione, once they'd come up for air, that is. Everyone avoided topics focused on the war or what the quartet intended to do once they left, and instead talked about frivolous things like Quidditch, as though there wasn't a war going on and the quartet would be going back to Hogwarts along with everyone else. However, though Ginny kept up a brave face, Draco could tell that she was affected by their plans more than she was letting on, and he did his best to cheer her up with little touches here and there, and gentle smiles. Draco was a natural charmer, and Ginny was soon her usual self again.
Their happy mood came crashing down around them with the arrival of the Minister. Molly had just served Harry his birthday cake in the shape of a Snitch when Arthur arrived with the Minister in tow. Harry tensed his shoulders, and Draco began to rub them soothingly. Harry had told him all about how the Minister had come to the Burrow over the holidays and basically bribed Harry into "popping in and out of the Ministry," as though he approved of what the government was doing. Draco was just as incensed as Harry had been, not the least was due to the Ministry having branded Harry a liar upon Voldemort's rebirth.
"I need to speak to Mr. Potter alone," said Rufus Scrimgeour, "Also, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger."
Harry reluctantly rose to go inside. Draco stood up as well and pulled him in for a brief kiss. "He can't have you for long," he whispered. "You're mine."
"And I wouldn't have it any other way," Harry replied, rubbing his hand across Draco's smooth alabaster skin. "Wait for me, love."
"Always," said Draco. "I'll be walking with Ginny. If you need me, just yell; we'll come running."
"Yes, sir," said Harry, saluting smartly as he shot Draco a cheeky grin.
"Oh, go on," Draco said with a laugh, shooing him towards the house. He turned to face Ginny and bowed before her, extending his hand. "Would you care to take a turn about the garden?" he asked, putting on an affected air as had previously been expected of him as the future Malfoy heir.
"I'd be delighted," said Ginny, grinning widely at him as she accepted his hand and rose to her feet. Looping her arm through his, she led him to a quiet corner where they wouldn't be disturbed. Gratefully, she sank onto a stone bench; Draco joined her, taking her small hands in his.
"We'll be leaving soon," he stated gravely, "And I just wanted to say how much I shall miss you, and how much I wish it were possible for us to take you along."
"There's no need to make apologies, Draco," said Ginny. "I understand; I really do. I'll miss you, too. I've appreciated the chance to get to know you better, to get to know the real Draco, rather than the mask you wore to please everyone else, especially your father. You're stronger and braver than you give yourself credit for. Harry's lucky to have you."
"And I'm lucky to have him," Draco returned. "He's more than I deserve, as is your family and Hermione's friendship. I can never repay you all for what you've done for me—"
"Nonsense," Ginny laughed, waving away his thanks. "You'd do the same for us."
"I would," Draco replied in all seriousness. "I would give my life to ensure the safety of any one of you, I swear it."
Ginny stared at him, slack-jawed. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard or been witness to: Draco Malfoy, swearing to defend herself, her family, and her friends with his very life. Needless to say, any of them would return the favor in a heartbeat. Draco Malfoy had integrated so readily that she didn't know how they'd ever managed to get by without him.
"Say something, Gin," he pleaded with her, obviously aware of how greatly he had shocked her.
"I don't know what to say," Ginny said honestly, "Except thank you for your devotion. I won't forget this. And neither will the rest of my family when I tell them."
"I'm honored that you count me among your loved ones," Draco continued, "And I'm glad to know that at least one person would shed a tear for me, should I not survive the coming war."
"We'd all shed more than a tear for you, Draco," Ginny admonished him. "My parents love you like another son; my brothers count you among their rank; and I love you just as much any of them. So do everything that's within your power to come back to us; don't ever give up, do you hear me, Draco Malfoy?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Draco, smiling broadly at her veiled threat (and he knew she would deliver). Tenderly, he cradled her hand in his and raised it to his mouth, pressing his lips to the back of her knuckles as though he were a knight of old and she a fair maiden. "In the meantime," he whispered, "Keep yourself safe, as well. I refuse to risk my life only to come home and not find my best girl waiting for me."
Ginny threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso and holding on for all she was worth. And that was how Harry found them: Draco rocking Ginny back and forth, her face buried in the crook of his neck, him planting kisses to the top of her head.
"Should I be jealous?" Harry asked playfully.
They turned their heads to face him, and Draco quickly disentangled himself from Ginny. "This isn't what it looks like," he said, holding his hands out in a placating manner towards Harry.
"Relax, Dragon," said Harry, moving forward to kiss him briefly to assure Draco that nothing was wrong. "I know you, and you would never betray me like that."
Draco's shoulders slumped in relief; he'd been so worried about having jeopardized his relationship with Harry. How would it have looked had they broken up so soon after getting together? He couldn't have born the pain. Without Harry, he was nothing. Without Harry, Draco would rather die!
"What did Scrimgeour want?" he asked, both to calm his racing heart and to hopefully distract Harry from reading the emotions that must have been playing across his face for anyone to see and interpret.
"He came to give us the items that Dumbledore left for us in his will," Harry explained.
As one, Ginny and Draco moved to embrace him, knowing how affected he had been and still was by the death of his greatest mentor. There was a time when Harry would have shrugged off their advances. Now, however, he welcomed their comfort, and gladly. He reciprocated their embrace, squeezing tightly in an effort to let them know how much he appreciated their unwavering support and devotion to him and the cause he stood for.
The rest of the evening passed without incident. Ron, Harry, and Draco retired to Ron's bedroom for the night. Ron quickly passed out, leaving Harry and Draco wide awake. Draco only knew that Harry hadn't gone to sleep yet because his breathing wasn't as even as it would have been otherwise. He realized then that Harry had read the emotions in his eyes earlier and that they were going to talk now, whether Draco wanted to or not. He figured, at least, that it was better to talk openly now before circumstances called for the utmost secrecy.
"Out with it, Potter," he said, more harshly than he may have intended, but he was on edge.
"Why do you fear angering me?" asked Harry.
"I've been taught to fear angering anyone," Draco replied. "It's been drilled into me since I was a child. If I displeased Lucius in the slightest, I was put under the Cruciatus Curse, even at five years old."
"I'm not going to hurt you," said Harry, and Draco was eerily reminded of an earlier conversation back on Privet Drive. "I won't ever lay a hand on you without your permission," Harry continued, further evidence that he, also, recalled their prior conversation.
"I know," Draco whispered. The secret that he held so dear weighed heavy on his heart and the secret was this: that he wanted Harry to lay a hand on him. Not in a sexual way – well, yes, that, too; he was still a teenage boy, after all (near enough, anyway), and craved sex the same as anyone. No, what he wanted was for Harry to punish him. See, Draco had been beaten down so often that he'd come to expect it, and, in a way, had grown to crave it – from the right sort of person, that is. And Harry was just the man to take him in hand and control him. Whether this desire made Draco sick or unnatural, he didn't care. Back on Privet Drive, Harry had once called him a sadist, and he had been right, for Draco had discovered that he liked a little pain with his pleasure. Draco's problem now was how to express this to Harry without coming off as weird or perverted.
"I can feel you thinking from over here," said Harry, breaking both the silence and Draco's thoughts. "What's up?"
"Nothing," Draco replied. "I'll tell you some other time."
Thankfully, Harry was content to drop the subject – for the time being, anyway – and wished Draco a pleasant night's sleep, before rolling over and promptly passing out. Draco smiled wistfully to himself, wondering what he'd ever done to deserve someone like Harry, who was so good, so pure. Draco still believed that he would only taint Harry in the end, but as Harry was convinced otherwise, Draco was content to defer to his judgment and follow his example, which he did by going to sleep himself.
The next day was the wedding, and everyone was kept busy by Mrs. Weasley, who was bustling about to make sure that the event would run smoothly. At long last, everything was in place; all the guests had taken their seats and it was time for the bride's entrance. Everyone gasped as Fleur, who seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow, floated down the aisle, a vision in white. Her radiance touched everyone, and Draco found himself falling in love with Harry all over again.
After the ceremony, everyone moved to the dance floor, Harry and Draco among all the others. Harry took Draco in his arms, which the blond was grateful for. He had too much on his mind to think about dancing; he was glad to follow wherever Harry led. Draco lowered his head to rest it on Harry's shoulder; he felt Harry do the same. As they danced, Draco thought about how this could be his and Harry's wedding someday, that is, if they survived the coming war. Harry would, at least – of this, Draco was absolutely positive, if only because he would sell his soul before he let Harry die. His grip on Harry tightened infinitesimally; though he would never share this with anyone, least of all Harry, he was scared. Not for himself, never. He honestly didn't care what happened to him. But he didn't want others he knew and loved to perish. He would do all he could to ensure that the Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione lived to experience a world without fear.
"I love you, Draco," Harry whispered in his ear, and Draco shivered at the pleasant sensations suddenly assaulting his senses. He pulled back slightly, the better to face Harry, only to quickly close the distance again as he connected their lips. They stopped moving, preferring to stand in the middle of the dance floor kissing. After all, this was a wedding, a celebration of love. And Harry and Draco were in love.
Ignorant to the stares they were receiving – from Hermione, the Weasleys, and a few select friends and relatives, they looked on with pride and admiration, for they knew what both boys had been through already and would continue to face; others, those who were less tolerant, looked on with barely concealed disgust – Harry and Draco continued to kiss, lightly sucking and nipping at each other's lips, tongues exploring the caverns of their mouths. They were interrupted by the arrival of a Patronus, that of Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead," the lynx said, "They are coming."
Pandemonium reigned as a multitude of black-cloaked figures suddenly appeared in the party's midst. Draco knew instantly who and what they were: Death Eaters. He searched desperately for Ron and Hermione, who were pushing past guests to reach him and Harry. At the same time, Ginny and the twins were making their ways towards them, arriving at the same time as Ron and Hermione.
"Go; hurry," each urged the quartet, drawing their wands and forming a protective ring around them to guard their escape.
"What about you?" Draco asked Ginny, though the twins were included in his inquiry as well.
"I can take care of myself," Ginny said firmly. "We all can. Now, go!"
Draco was prepared to take his friends' hands and Apparate to safety, when he suddenly surged forward, kissing Ginny's forehead quite forcefully. Before Apparating away, he chanced a glance back. The last thing he saw before his vision faded to black was Ginny's blazing look. Then, there was nothing but inky darkness as he was pressed very hard from all directions, iron bands tightening around his chest.
The hunt for the horcruxes was on.