Lyrics

There was a time when I was alone
Nowhere to go and no place to call home
My only friend was the man in the moon
And even sometimes he would go away, too

Then one night, as I closed my eyes
I saw a shadow flying high
He came to me with the sweetest smile
Told me he wanted to talk for awhile
He said, "Peter Pan, that's what they call me
I promise that you'll never be lonely, " and ever since that day

I am a lost boy from Neverland
Usually hanging out with Peter Pan
And when we're bored we play in the woods
Always on the run from Captain Hook
"Run, run, lost boy, " they say to me
Away from all of reality

Neverland is home to lost boys like me
And lost boys like me are free
Neverland is home to lost boys like me
And lost boys like me are free

He sprinkled me in pixie dust and told me to believe
Believe in him and believe in me
Together we will fly away in a cloud of green
To your beautiful destiny
As we soared above the town that never loved me
I realized I finally had a family
Soon enough we reached Neverland
Peacefully my feet hit the sand
And ever since that day

I am a lost boy from Neverland
Usually hanging out with Peter Pan
And when we're bored we play in the woods
Always on the run from Captain Hook
"Run, run, lost boy, " they say to me
Away from all of reality

Neverland is home to lost boys like me
And lost boys like me are free
Neverland is home to lost boys like me
And lost boys like me are free

Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, Wendy Darling
Even Captain Hook, you are my perfect story book
Neverland, I love you so
You are now my home sweet home
Forever a lost boy at last

Peter Pan, Tinkerbell, Wendy Darling
Even Captain Hook, you are my perfect story book
Neverland, I love you so
You are now my home sweet home
Forever a lost boy at last

And for always I will say

I am a lost boy from Neverland
Usually hanging out with Peter Pan
And when we're bored we play in the woods
Always on the run from Captain Hook
"Run, run, lost boy, " they say to me
Away from all of reality

Neverland is home to lost boys like me
And lost boys like me are free
Neverland is home to lost boys like me
And lost boys like me are free

The Christmas break ended and Harry returned to school with his friends, but not without foreboding. Draco hadn't contacted him, and there remained a radio silence from both of them, which was for the best but also incredibly hurtful. Yet Harry knew the ever practical Draco would have decided the most expedient course of action would be to cut off contact completely. This knowledge however didn't stop Harry from worrying about seeing him around the school grounds.

But he needn't have worried, he realised bitterly. Draco seemed as eager to avoid him as Harry was. It seemed they were both actively engaged in writing each other off as quickly as possible. Harry tried not to feel betrayed, after all he was the one who had drawn the final line, but Draco's wordless acceptance of it confirmed what Harry had suspected; that ultimately, Harry would never have come first. It was better to end things now, while he a shred of dignity left.

He continually struggled with his school work, even more so now than before, but Hermione helped him with an understanding sympathy. She knew what he wanted to study and that he needed his marks to meet standard. Even though Harry's marks had been acceptable enough before, he was simply floundering in the emotional fall out from losing Draco. It was good timing that their final exams were coming up, and he could excuse his hermiting in his dorm room and being rather poor company in general. He knew he was depressed and heart broken, but only Hermione and Ron knew why, and they kept his secret with the devotion of long standing best friends, making excuses for his morose behaviour when required.

Being in the very place where he and Draco had spent so much of their love affair was torturous. He cursed the fact that they had been so amorous, so adventurous in finding new places to hide and kiss. Harry realised that every happy memory he bore some mark or memory of Draco, so everything reminded him of him. It was like constantly walking through thorns. He couldn't even find peace in his room. He had invited Draco into every part of his life whole heartedly, he reflected morosely, and it still hadn't been enough. It would never have been. Or so he kept reminding himself, when the heart ache got too much and he would hide himself in a bathroom stall, or go a hurl cricket balls at the practice nets until his muscles spasmed.

Luckily, it would not be long for them. 7th years wrote their final exams mid-way through and average school term, and were not required to attend school after they had finished. They had to return and be present for their graduation when they would receive their scrolls. It was a dim light at the end of this nightmare, but he knew that as soon as he had set down his pen on that final paper, he would be gone and would be holing himself up in Grimmauld place to be miserable in peace. He refused think of anything other than those facts; school work, exams and Grimmauld place.

One ordinary day, when the winter chill was giving way to spring breezes, he saw him. Harry was taking a short cut through a quad on the northern side of the grounds to get to his next class, when he spotted him. He was giving a speech of sorts to what seemed like the following years recruits for prefect ship, though he was standing far enough away that he couldn't hear. He saw him first, and quickly hid behind a pillar, so that he wouldn't be spotted in turn. But he couldn't stop himself, he let himself peer around the column to see the tall, blonde love of his life.

He was, as ever, aristocratically beautiful in his full prefect uniform. His heavy lidded eyes were reading off a page in front of him, his expression bored. Harry took in the straight line of his shoulders in a blazer, the balanced stance of his feet, the way his perfectly styled hair brushed just the edge of his collar; his small act of rebellion. His voice rose and fell with his words, every gesture coordinated and well timed; at one point he must have made some small joke, because his audience shared small's laughs, grinning and glancing at one another. They were, as Harry was, enraptured by him. Even if he wasn't completely besotted with him, he wouldn't have been able to ignore him. Harry had tried a few times to get Draco to understand just how captivating he was when he showed this side of himself, this innate ability to capture an audience, but Draco had never taken him seriously. No wonder his father wanted his son under his control; people would flock to him and fight wars for him, if he wanted it. He could probably even sell ice to Eskimo.

So long was Harry staring at Draco, that it was a moment before he registered that the group had been dismissed and Draco as now folding away the sheet of paper he had been holding and was bending down to pick his school satchel back up. When he turned to leave, he saw Harry, who was no longer hiding. Time froze. Harry felt like the earth had lurched, and he would fall over if he didn't catch his balance again. But their eyes were locked for a very long time. So long, that Harry was tempted to speak, to say anything…

But Draco turned and walked away, without a word. His expression had been as blank as a stone. Harry was left feeling far more desolate than before, but also resolute.

That afternoon, he got special permission to go into town and get his hair cut. When he sat in the chair and the barber asked him what he wanted, he simply said, "Just take it off."

When the barber was finished, Harry saw he hadn't quite made him look like a soldier off to war like he had been expecting, but rather giving him a short but more modern cut that made his hair short on the sides and longer on top, cut in stages . With his naturally wild looking hair, it must have looked half way decent, or so he assumed from the appreciative looks the female hairdresser was sending him. His square jaw stood out more now, as did his green eyes, as they weren't hidden behind a curtain of shaggy fringe. But he didn't feel sexy or good or happy, just sad. He paid and left. Hermione and Ron raised their eyes when they saw him. He hadn't cut his hair more than what was absolutely necessary in the entire 7 years they had known him. Hermione finally commented that it looked good on him, but Harry just shrugged, as he really didn't care about how it looked.

The term plodded on and Harry was grateful to throw himself into studies. Not that he was alone in this. There wasn't time or room to think on anything else. The pressure mounted and some of the less able students became hysterical and had to be sent to the nurse for rest or tonics. Harry buried himself in it however with single minded determination. He could pretend to himself that it was for the noble reason of achieving the best he could for his university application; he knew it was because it stopped him thinking about Draco so much. He worked himself to exhaustion, until he could barely keep his eyes open, and fell into bed and deep, restless sleep.

When Hermione came to join him at the common room fire one night, while he pored over his science notes, she mentioned that Draco had been taken out of school. Harry felt his shoulder muscles twitch at the news but otherwise showed no reaction. Hermione sat for a moment longer, but couldn't seem to find the courage to say whatever it was she was thinking, and eventually she sighed and walked away. Harry stared at his notes, but once again reminded himself of that day in the quad, when Draco was the one who walked away. He had made his decision, dispassionately and practically. Harry had to respect that, and stay away. For his own good. He put Draco from his mind that night by going outside and jogging until he couldn't anymore.

The exams arrived. Harry did the best he could, revising with Ron and Hermione in the evenings and writing again the next day. Slowly the number dwindled, and eventually disappeared. The evening their final exam was done, his house threw a part in celebration. Naturally someone had smuggled in alcohol, the cheap nasty kind. There was laughter and banter and the cathartic throwing of copious amounts of hand written revision thrown into the fire. Students signed each other's shirts with sentimental messages. Some students even chose to visit their favourite teachers and thank them. But Harry saw none of it, and experienced none of it. He was already on a bus to Hexway.

After a 3 hour bus trip, and another hour added on when Harry couldn't find anyone to take him to the end of the lane, so he walked, which he didn't mind. His worldly possessions took up the space of one gym bag and one wheeled case, and he didn't mind the walk. He made lonely figure in the twilight, he bowed and shoulders hunched but determinedly walking the road which took him home.

He arrived at Grimmauld place when it was full dark and only stars to lend their weak, glittering light. Harry paused at the view from the front steps which looked over the valley. Away from the urban light pollution, true dark was a lovely, somnolent thing. He couldn't see the valley at all, but he could sense it in the way he could feel the huge empty space stretching away in front of him. He found his keys and unlocked the door, stepping into the house but not turning on any lights. With very little sound or effort, he dropped his bags, walked to the couch and went to sleep.

Harry spent the next month building. He built the house up; well, continued the repairs he had begun a few months before, which included giving most of it a new coat of paint. He built his relationships with the people of Hexway, since they were going to be his new neighbours. He reconnected with Bathilda, who as always was very happy to see him, and Snuffles, who was ecstatic, and wasted no time making Grimmauld place his new home. Even Bathilda commented how much the dog seemed to take to him, in a way he hadn't favourite anyone else so far. Harry suspected it was because no one had really made the effort to give him any affection. Dogs were simple that way, he had always thought; you love them, they love you, that's all you needed really. Everything else was just extra.

He built up his new life. He managed to find a second hand truck, which was rusting in so many places it wasn't even worth trying to fix. But it worked and took him around the small village of Hexway, and sometimes to the neighbouring town, where he went when he needed things Hexway didn't supply. Snuffles usually rode with him. He had completely adopted Harry and fitted in with his life without demand. Harry never called for him or forced him to do anything. He was free to come and go as he pleased. Sometimes he would ride with Harry somehwre, only to jump out the window half way through on some urgent errand of his own. He would always return though, and every night he and Harry would sit together on the veranda, or in front of the fire, if Harry felt the whim to build one. The canine seemed in tune with Harry's simplest wishes, mostly when the nights seemed longer than usual and the loneliness too heavy, Snuffles would push his snout into Harry's hand, allowing Harry to grasp his ruff tightly, wordlessly. He always left the kitchen door open for him in the night.

Harry couldn't sleep in the spare bed. And somehow, after everything that had happened, sleeping in what he knew had been his parents room was no longer a terrible invasion, the breaking of some crystal idea. It was a just a room. He bought new linen and new curtains. He packed his clothes in the wardrobe and made it officially his own. But he ignored the spare bedroom.

He never made tea, but craved it every day.

The weather was changing more drastically now. One particularly clear, warm day, bored of working inside the house, he began to tackle the garden. Though Bathilda had kept the worst of the greenery taking over, she wasn't a gardener. Though harry couldn't boast the title either, he resolved to tackle the greenery with enthusiasm if not expertise. He was fighting a bougainvillea bush that had been so much giving free reign, it was devouring the other plants around it. Harry had removed all his clothes but his jeans, and was already regretting it, as the bougainvillea had already given him several cuts across his chest and arms with its very long thorns. He stumbled backwards out of it, dragging the branches he had cut off and swearing. He threw them unceremoniously on the pile he had made so far and threw the shears beside it, sucking at a cut on his palm. That would be hard to cover and he knew it would sting for days, and he thought about going inside for a break when he heard the crunch of tires on the gravel of the driveway. He made his was around the front of the house, still sucking on his hand. When he came into view, he slowed and stopped.

Draco Malfoy stood leaning against the side of his silver Lexus, looking at him.

Draco.

Draco stared as Harry came into view. He was topless, sweaty, and streaked with dirt, sucking on his hand like it had been injured. And his hair…the new short style was something boys their age tried to impress girls, and often ended up looking like the had shorn their heads and forgotten the top, but on Harry broader face, with its wider planes, set off by the two a clock shadow, it was extremely well placed. Draco almost lost his courage and got back in his car. Instead he crossed his arms more tightly across his chest, willing himself to stay his ground.

Harry stopped when he saw it was him, and stayed, a few metres away from the stone wall and closed gate the separated the driveway from the house. His face showed surprise, which Draco expected, then shut down completely, showing nothing at all. Draco felt his confidence, already extremely weak, waver. Now that he was here, staring at his former lover, all the things he had planned to say seemed doomed to wither before they were even spoken. So they stood and stared at each other. Draco couldn't help but recall the last time they had stared each at each other across the quad. When he had seen that Harry was about to attempt to bridge the divide between them, and when Draco had fled before he could.

But things had changed since. And he could only hope it would be enough.

Fortunately, the stale mate was shattered when that enormous mutt crashed through the hedge beside him and landed on the gravel beside him, shaking itself vigorously and then glancing his way.

Draco knew a moment's fear. He hadn't been very friendly to the creature when he had last been here, and it might intend on returning that sentiment…but Snuffles walked up to him, tail wagging and pushed his snout into Draco elbow, forcing him to uncross his arms. As soon as he did the dog reared up on its hind legs, planted its huge muddy feet on his chest and licked him. Draco was too shocked to react. This was not how he had imagined this would go at all.

Having made his point, the dog leapt over the garden wall and bounded up to harry with deep bark. Harry let his hand be persuaded into a brief head rub before he got bored and went on his next doggy endeavour, leaving them alone once more.

Draco raised a hand to his cheek and gingerly wiped away the dog slobber, trying not to think about it. He met Harry's eyes again, and this time, there was the glimmer of a question there.

Draco decided it was better to rip off the band aid.

"I left." He told him. Such simple words, confessing so much. "I have nowhere else to go."

Draco put his bags down in the spare room, barely seeing the sparse furnishings. Harry hadn't reacted to his confession with anything but a pause and a brief nod, walking up to the gate and opening it for him, then leaving again without a word. Draco tried not to feel too relieved or hurt by it. Harry would still be harbouring resentment and doubt. But the fact that he hadn't turned Draco away was a lifeline to him. He sat on the bed, head hanging, but the tightness in his chest lessening a bit. It felt good to be somewhere safe; a haven.

He slowly unpacked his bags. Harry hadn't said anything, but Draco knew it would be a terrible assumption to move into the room he slept in. He still didn't know for certain if Harry had let him in simply because they had had a friendship of sorts at one point and was too noble to turn him away, or if there was any chance of forgiveness. Either way, he was unspeakably grateful that somewhere in his life he had gained a friend in someone such as Harry, who would invite him into his home even after everything he had done… Draco found his hands clenching the fabric of a pair of trousers he was unpacking, making his fingers look emaciated, the thin strings of his muscles betraying how weak he was, how close he was to falling apart. He pulled himself together a finished putting the clothes he brought into the chest of drawers Harry must have bought for this room. He very carefully unpacked the Chinese clay tea set and put it on its surface, which was eye at height for him. He would have been lying if he didn't admit to himself that he hoped Harry might see it there.

He didn't go back downstairs until he had to, a cowardly act, but h was still far too unsure about how to proceed. It was an unfamiliar state for Draco, who couldn't recall a time when he didn't know exactly what to say or do, or exactly what he wanted. Although he did know the answer to that, he had no idea how to get it, or if he deserved it. But eventually he did descend, and in doing so, he noticed a little changes to the house. New coats of paint on the window sills, one of the stairs which had a large crack in the grain of the wood had been replaced and now stood out. The house smelled slightly of wood smoke too, so Harry must have used to fire place. There was also the tell-tale signs of dog hair in the corners and stuck to the carpeting.

He saw Harry was at the stove cooking, and though he desperately wanted just to touch him, he couldn't. There was still too much distance. But Harry spoke;

"Dinner will be ready in ten or so." He said, then added sounding a bit stilted. "You can set the table, if you like."

Draco stood gawping like an idiot for a moment before his feet moved. As he came into the kitchen proper, he saw there a small round wooden table, with two wooden chairs to match. He slowed as he walked past it. When he reached for the drawer where he remembered the cutlery being, Harry shook his head and Draco pulled his hand away like it had been stung.

"Not there anymore. In the cupboard to your left." Was all he said.

Draco found the cutlery in their new spot, and took out the necessary implements feeling completely out of place. It was a horrible feeling, to be with Harry, with whom he had always felt the most normal and authentic, and here he was doing everything mannequin stiff. He hated himself for it. But Harry seemed not to notice. Draco sat down on one of the chairs and waited, stealing glances at Harry's back. In spite of everything, just seeing that familiar, strong set of his shoulders was comfort. When every moment felt like he was sitting on needles, just seeing Harry was a still point in the chaos of his life at present. He surprised Draco by talking.

"The table and chairs are from Bathilda. I asked her where I could get something like them and she told me I could have them, since she doesn't use them anymore." He spoke in a casual way, betraying nothing.

"That was kind of her." Draco responded. Harry nodded at that. "She is kind."

Harry put the plates out and Draco didn't look at him. While Harry chewed through his meal, Draco barely saw it, pushing food around on his plate. Harry said nothing about it however, and when he was done, took both their plates without comment. He put them by the sink then went to the fridge and pulled out two brown bottles. He walked over to the kitchen door, which had stood open the entire time, leaving Draco to follow. He found him seated on the deck chairs he had bought, staring out into the night, one bottle in hand. The other rested on the arm of the empty chair. Draco sat down and gingerly took the bottle, finding that the label claimed it to be beer. Draco had never drank beer, since it his family had considered it to be crass, especially drunk from the bottle. But since he had thrown all that away, he didn't see any reason he couldn't drink it anymore. He took a swig, and gagged.

"That is awful." He muttered, still retching slightly at the bitter after taste that stuck to his tongue.

Harry smiled minutely. "It can grow on you."

"I doubt it." Draco sighed. Some things probably wouldn't ever change.

The silence stretched between them, until Harry started to scratch at a chip in the arm of his chair, spoke.

"Draco, are you going to tell me about it?" he asked quietly.

Draco froze. He wanted to tell him, to say it all, to purge his brain of the story. But he was afraid. But then again, what did he have left to lose? Suddenly the feeling of desolation he had been hiding from himself for days hit him in a wave. He leaned forward and clenched his hands between his legs to keep them from shaking, observing once again how the tension caused them to look ugly and talon like, his bones showing plainly through his flesh.

"Blaise." Draco started. "Blaise happened."

Harry only looked at him, face blank.

"I'll try to keep this brief. Blaise, as it turns out, has been harbouring a secret burning passion for me for quite some time." Draco chuckled darkly. "The culmination of which you were present for. When I told him no uncertain terms that if he ever came near me again, I would make his life hell, he fled. But I suppose it only gave him a chance to revenge himself on me in the most cliché way possible; he told my father. After what you said to me when you..."Draco faltered. "Hit him, he knew what was happening between us. He told him. My father, in a rather upset state, came to see me at the school, demanding I deny everything."

Draco tried to, but was too cowardly, to look Harry in the eye. Instead he leaned back and tried to make his muscles relax some.

"I told him the truth." He drew breath to carry on but was stopped by the memory of his father, incandescent with rage, all but throwing him against his dorm room wall and forcing him to pack his things, before telling him in no uncertain terms that exams be damned he was leaving with him that night. He remembered feeling shaky and terrified, like a dog that had been beaten.

"It was, as you can imagine, horrible. No, worse. He dragged me to the manor and forced me to write my exams from there, refusing to allow to me any outside contact. He cut off all my communications, the only person I saw was Eustace, who brought me meals. Not even my mother came to me. He only came to see me once; he told me that my internship would start immediately following my exams, and my corresponded studying would be under his strict supervision. He threatened me, telling me if I ever thought to tell anyone else about my aberration, he would disinherit me, leave my penniless and refuse to acknowledge me as his son for the remainder of his days."

Draco ran a hand through his hair and was happy to see it wasn't shaking. Saying it all aloud made it easier. Rather out than in, as the saying went.

"I think, that it was then that I finally mustered enough courage to leave. I packed my bags that night, and now I'm here."

Draco did risk a glance at Harry, but it was dark and though he thought Harry's eyes might be shining slightly he didn't analyse it. He had to say the rest before he lost his rhythm and nerve.

"The things you said to me Harry… they were hard to hear. But I am glad to whatever god put you in my path because I do not think if I hadn't had met you, anyone else in my life could have said those things to me. The difficult things. After you left…" Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. "Oh lord, it hurt. But I was determined to make you a liar. I refused to let your words have apply to my life, even though they did quite accurately. I was afraid. And looking back I think I have been afraid for a long time. I thought it as pride, dignity, expectations, even noble…but no, it was fear."

"School was harder, but I was still comforting myself with the story that you had been the one to leave and not me. It helped me keep away from you. But then there was that day, when you found me…I thought I would break then." He heard his voice grow hoarse, with emotion or simply from all the talking he didn't know. "It wasn't soon after that that Blaise worked his little act of terrorism on me."

Draco shrugged then. "In the face of my father's outrage, I couldn't lie anymore. I just saw his face, demanding I deny the accusation, as if he was hoping for it, but so terrified it would be true…and I saw the future he had in his head for me. And I suddenly, violently didn't want it."

'So here I am. All of have in the world is in the bags I brought with me, and a car with cant navigate potholes worth a damn."

Draco sat back, feeling with enormity of his words. He was a lost boy now, no home, no worldly goods, nothing to his name but some clothes and a car, which would likely be repossessed as he doubted his father would suffer him to keep it. He would find any way he could to punish him, his father was vindictive that way. He acknowledged it dispassionately. The knowledge that he had gone from having everything to having nothing didn't sting as much as it had, in fact, it hardly stung at all. But the entire ordeal had scarred him and he wasn't sure how to heal. And that was why, in the middle of the storm, he sought out the only light there was; he had run to Harry, the only safe harbour he had ever known. Harry, who had only loved him so much that he couldn't stand to live by his side as a lie. He closed his eyes at that thought. When he really considered the level of his stupidity, it was humiliating.

Harry however still hadn't said a word. This would be the moment when Harry could tell Draco to leave, or tell him that while he was his friend, he couldn't forgive him. Draco already suspected this would be the case, but the stinging nettle of hoping prickled at his insides. So he waited, on the precipice.

Harry wasn't looking at him anymore, but staring out into the dark. There were small sounds coming up from the grass and bush but a blessed absence of anything urban. Eventually he stood up and walked the small distance to Draco's chair.

"Alright." He said simply.

Draco risked looking up at his face. Harry was looking at him, and Draco saw his sympathy and understanding, but the shadow of hurt too. He flinched in spite of such a gentle expression, he felt it like a slap. The last thing he deserved now was Harry's good will.

"Would you prefer me to leave?" he asked softly, dreading the answer. but he saw harry face drop a little when he said it.

"No, I don't. I just need…time. But I don't want you to leave." he answered softly.

Draco nodded and looked away. "Thank you."

"You are always welcome here, Draco." Draco twitched slightly at hearing his name. He opened his mouth to reply but Harry had walked back in. Draco sat watching the night for a time before retreating to his room.

Now that he was here, and he knew Harry wasn't going to kick him out, he could find a measure of relief. He sank down onto the bed staring at the curtains. They were made of a rough linen weave, in an off white. He had put so much time into choosing different curtains for each room, that would suit the various spaces within. Thinking back to that time was painful, but Draco let himself be punished by it, reminding himself of all that he had thrown away. Harry may not have turned him from his door, but he wouldn't be able to forgive him. Draco knew he wouldn't have. Having a bed to sleep in was a small comfort in that moment, but it was quite literally all he had. The feeling that washed over him then was despairing, and he couldn't find the will to change himself for sleep. He simply kicked off his shoes, turned off his bedside light, pulled the covers over his fully dressed form and lay down, not feeling as if he could sleep but unable to do anything else.

He must have fallen asleep at some point however, because a sound woke him. THz room was dark but he heard the creak of wooden floor boards, the soft heavy steps making their way across the floor. He didn't turn as the covers were pulled aside and the mattress dipped with Harry's weight as he climbed in behind Draco. The covers were pulled back again, and Draco felt the warmth of Harry's chest against his back, his legs curling around his own, mirroring his side lying position and wrapping around him. They lay in the same spooning position they had adopted many times before, as Harrys body was slightly longer than Draco. Harrys arm came up over his waist and over his chest, pulling him tight. Draco's eyes were tight shut and his body taught, inexplicably torn between shame and longing. But Harry's arm didn't loosen and eventually Draco let his body melt against him, as he so desperately wanted to, letting his heat comfort him. The emotions he had been pushing away were threatening to overwhelm him in the harbour of Harry's embrace. He jerked as a withheld sob wracked his body, just once. Harry held him tighter.

"I'm so, so sorry." Harry said, his breath making a small circle of heat through Draco's shirt.

Draco wanted to tell harry he couldn't, shouldn't be sorry, that he was the one with apologies to make, but his throat was closed. He shook his head against the pillow instead, and pulled Harry's arm tighter against him, their fingers threading. Draco's held so tight that it hurt but neither one of them pulled away. All the scars of the last months came to surface, including the casual torture of being confined to his room for weeks, meals brought to him, his only contact being a mute butler. All the nights his father had come to his door only to hurl abuse and threats. Draco to convey all the unsaid things in that link, how glad he was that Harry was there, how much he had missed his touch, his presence, how much he regretted everything that had passed between them that these things had had to happen before he could finally stop being a coward. He was glad Harry couldn't see his face, even though ultimately, if anyone was going to be witness to his weakness, it could only be him.

Harry held him until the sobs stopped, and then continued to hold him. He kissed his neck and Draco breathed out, on the other side of the storm, feeling purged and exhausted but so much better. He carefully levered himself up, feeling Harry's arm fall away. He couldn't face him, but turned his head to say he was going to shower. Harry said ok and lay back down again, while Draco collected what he needed.

The shower seemed to clear his head from the cobwebby feeling that crying had left in his head. He hated to be weak, it didn't come naturally to him to be vulnerable, no matter how much harry had seen it. But he saw it for what it was, a rather damaging lesson taught to him from a young age, part of the bricks that created his foundation. If he acknowledged it, he saw that the same counted for a lot of what made up his character. Take that away, and what was left?

The only thing that was left, was Harry, and the time they had spent together. There hadn't been any other course of action really, then return to him, a true north. He returned to the room, carrying his clothes and towel around his waist. When he walked through the door Harry had turned on the lamp was already looking for him, then his mouth gaped in shock. He was looking at Draco's side, where a large purple bruise spanned across his ribs. Draco followed his eyes to see what had caught him, then he gasped softly. In spite of it being a truly awful sight, he had forgotten it, as it feel like a numb sort of pain, felt from a distance away. His eyes found Harry's again.

"My father." He told him in explanation. "It was the final straw I suppose. On that last night, when he came to me, he felt the need to punctuate is words. I think I was more surprised than hurt."

Harrys face was frowning darkly. He gestured for Draco to come closer and he did, so Harry could lightly brush his fingers over the mark. It was as wide as a fist and a perfect circle on his pale skin. Draco hissed when harry touched the centre where his father's ring would have broken the skin if he hadn't been wearing a shirt at the time.

"Sit down. I have some arnica in the bathroom." Harry told him and left. Draco willingly did so, and Harry returned with a small tube. The cool gel felt sharp against his still warm skin, but Harry was careful. When he was done Draco lowered his arm once more, not trying to hide the mark, just resigned to it. There were no secrets anymore.

"The Dursley's were shit but they never beat me. "Harry said.

Draco shrugged. "My father has never beat me either. This was the first time."

"The only time." Harry growled, his voice sounding vicious.

Draco left it at that. They lay together once more, and Draco fell asleep quickly this time, Harry keeping his demons at bay.

Draco woke up alone in the bed, but it didn't worry him. Without deserving it, he had Harry's unwavering loyalty and devotion, so he knew he wasn't abandoned. But he wanted to make sure he earned it this time. For almost the entire duration of their relationship over the last 2 years, Draco had been the one demanding and taking and asking for sacrifice, over and over, and Harry had given every time without reserve. Until when he couldn't bring himself to be an apart of Draco's future hell of a life. Thank goodness he had reached that point, because Draco he would never have found a way to breach his cowardice were it not for Harry's influence in his life. They had shaped each other, though Draco had been ignoring or denying it up until recently. And the night of his birthday party had suddenly split his life into two possibilities, suddenly he was forced to choose.

So he had, eventually. Chose himself, chose his happiness, and chose uncertainty and authenticity rather than the lie. He personally felt it was the first time he had done anything worthy of Harry's loyalty. He sat up, blinking. The light was already high, and he suspected that it was rather late morning. Unusual for him, but life was all about rule breaking lately. He dragged on some clean pants, since he had fallen asleep with only a towel on, and went to find harry.

Who was of course, making breakfast? Draco watched him while he worked. He had the happy realisation that the act of observing Harry from behind while he made food or breakfast for them both was so familiar, so many times had they acted out such a scene in their time together. Except it hadn't been an act, one of the few things in his life that wasn't. It was comfortable and lovely and so familiar it filled Draco's chest with warmth, and he was content to simply walk up next to him and lean on the counter, as he had always done. Then he remembered the things he had said to Harry about 'domestic bliss' and felt angry at himself for making something so lovely sound like something worthless.

"I could make tea. "He offered in greeting.

Harry's eyes blinked twice. "You could, except I don't have any tea things." He replied, looking abashed.

Draco winced at the implication, but took it as he knew he deserved it. He could hardly fault Harry for trying to move on and heal. Yet, he tested the waters; "I do. I could fetch them…?" he offered cautiously. When Harry turned to him with a relieved smile, Draco returned it. "Yeah, that would be great."

Draco returned quickly with the clay tea set, and set it down carefully on the countertop, observing Harry's curious surprise.

"You brought that with you." he said simply.

"Of course. I don't have many things to call my own, and what I do have is precious. Though this would have been precious regardless." He answered, determinedly not looking at Harry. He put on the electric kettle to boil, so that he could add hot water to the loose tea inside. "I never thanked you, for this." He tried to tell him, but found his throat closing once more.

Still an emotional mess then.

But he moved past Harry, to the fringe, and used a magnet to pin something to it. It was the poem Harry had given him. He had kept it folded, with him at all times since the day he received it. The paper had become soft with being handled so much, and the creases would tear if anyone were to pull them, but Draco unfolded it with deft fingers and carefully laid it flat against the door, pinning it in place. Harry stood beside him, and soon his fingers were lacing through Draco's. His other hand was turning his head to face him, rough fingers against his skin. Harry kissed him, chastely.

"Welcome home." He said.

Harry

It was six days before Lucius found Grimmauld place.

Draco was still healing, still finding his way on wobbly legs. His mountainous decision left him adrift in a world in which he had no trappings or possessions or connections, and his only tether was harry. Harry was happy to be patient, to let him come towards himself, to build himself anew, and he knew he must.

Harry resolve to erase Draco Malfoy from his life had pretty much dissolved the moment he saw his lean form at his gate, still looking beautiful but his weakness barely held in check. Even though he was bravely trying to save face, Harry was unable to turn him away when he admitted he had left.

Harry told himself that he was merely curious, that he was helping out his friend, even if they had parted badly. But it was a pathetic lie he told himself, because the fact was that as soon as Draco had arrived at his door, there was no way Harry wasn't going to have him back.

He listened to Draco's story with as much objectivity as he could, but the soaring happiness in him couldn't faked. Yet, he still saw Draco's reserve, and he was still too burned to let him believe that Draco wouldn't break his heart again. But lying in his bed that night, trying to sleep, his mind kept turning Draco's words over in his head, and eventually he felt like an idiot for not simply giving in. Draco had come home, and come home to him. He had forsaken everything so that he could live an honest life. And he still wanted Harry. That was good enough.

Draco's cause for misery became clearer when he saw the bruise marring his pale flesh. Though he catalogues it under the many reasons that he had finally taken the initiative to leave, Harry felt a white hot anger when he thought about it. He contented himself with caring for it every day, being familiar with cuts and bruises.

He felt a renewed empathy for Draco's fear that had dogged them through the last two years. Not only had his father reacted as he had predicted, it was worse. Draco didn't go into it, but Harry knew what privation and mental abuse looked like, having seen it in the mirror many times. Draco still jumped a little sometimes, if he closed a door too hard or came up behind him too suddenly. He soothed him with murmured words and soft touch, and at night he held him through the faceless nightmares that dogged his sleep. They had moved into the main bedroom, and it felt right to Harry. This was Draco's home now, and wherever he was, Harry would be with him. That much was unspoken now.

Snuffles was always around now too, and had made it his personal mission to get as much in Draco's space as was possible before Draco hit him with a newspaper. The dog bore this without comment, or bark, and weaselled himself further and further into Draco's exasperated graces, until one day Harry came in to find Draco reading on the couch, while Snuffled dozed beside him with his head in his lap. Draco had caught his eye then,

"This animal, is ruining this couch." He commented, acting as if nothing was amiss.

Harry shrugged. "We can get a new one. The couch, not the dog."

Draco sighed, sounding more like himself. "It will have to be a large one then."

"Sure, love." Harry answered, picking up the secateurs and walking out again, grinning to himself.

However, six days since Draco had come home, Lucius Malfoy arrived on his doors step. It was mid-morning, and Harry was replacing a window fastening that had rusted shut too badly to be fixed. He had just removed the frame when the doorbell went, so he set it down carefully, since he knew Draco was upstairs in the shower, having just woken up. He slept in more these days, but harry suspected he just needed to be able to do that for a while, so most mornings, he left him to lie in.

When he opened the door, and was met by a tall man, who, while not taller than him, had a presence that implied importance and power. His suit was stiff and looked expensive, his hair white blond like Draco's, and though his jaw was wider and shoulders more sloped it was unmissable who it was. Still he stood with a hand in his pocket, affecting a disdainful nonchalance that was so characteristic of Draco in the days when they had been enemies, Harry blinked. It was identical, down to the expression and the way he leaned slightly on one leg.

"Good morning. I am Lucius Malfoy." He introduced himself coldly.

Harry met his eyes without a trace of intimidation. "I know who you are." He answered in a similar tone.

"And I know who you are, young man." Lucius voice immediately took on an acid tone.

"Good, that saves time." Harry replied.

Lucius blinked and seemed slightly taken aback that Harry wasn't afraid of him. but rallied. "It is polite to invite guests in."

Harry crossed his arms and gave him a disdainful look. "Firstly, there is no way in hell you're my guest. And secondly, I've already got one Malfoy in this house, and I'm full up."

Lucius practically seethed. "Well, since it is your 'guest' I am here to see, perhaps you could find the common courtesy to fetch him to me."

Harry narrowed his eyes. He opened the door wider and stepped out onto the veranda. He was taller than Lucius by a head and the anger boiling inside him made it very easy to tower over the older man.

"I will not 'fetch him to you' as he isn't a dog, you pompous fat-headed prick." He hissed between gritted teeth and he forced Lucius to step and down onto the lower step. Lucius for his part began to lose his officious expression and was looking at Harry with a mixture of fear and anger. "You are on private property, and I know that the brilliant legal mind that you are will know that if I say to fuck off, you should, before I do something I probably won't regret very much at all."

Lucius blanched, making his pale face look pasty and sick. "Are you threatening me? How very typical, very low-brow." He sneered up at him.

Harry twitched with barely suppressed rage. He kept seeing the bruise on Draco's ribs, his shrugging at it. "You weren't too good to stoop to being 'low-brow' not so long ago were you?" Lucius face really did go slack now, realising what Harry was referring to, and Harry pushed him hard on the shoulder forcing him down to the last step.

"Harry, stop." Draco's voice came from the door. Harry turned his head, but kept his eyes on Lucius.

"Well you know Draco, he is trespassing. And he is also, incredibly unwelcome. Technically, I can do whatever I want." He answered, watching Lucius hear his every word. But he felt Draco hand on his shoulder.

"Harry I know you're angry. But I can deal with him. Please?" Draco asked, and when harry did turn to see him Draco face was open. His hand slid down to grasp Harry's and Harry eventually squeeze back.

"Fine. But I'm not going." He replied, unwilling to leave Draco alone with the man. Although was acting calm, he could feel the slight tremble in his hand when he touched him. He wouldn't leave.

"Thanks love." Draco answered, and harry saw Lucius flinch. Well done, Draco, he smirked.

The younger blonde turned to the older.

"Father what you want?" he asked in clipped tones.

Lucius recovered his earlier composure, and tried to carry on as if Harry wasn't there. Harry contented himself with leaning against the door jamb. To his secret delight, Snuffles came out too, and went to sit at the top step beside Draco. He didn't growl or bark, but fixed Lucius with a long stare. Draco reached down to rub his head.

"Draco, you should return home." He told him.

Draco only shook his head. "No." this didn't satisfy Lucius.

"Do not be a child Draco. This is unbecoming. If you return now, I can still do damage control. I can cover up everything, even your week spent here with that." He flicked his eyes towards Harry. "Perhaps I was too harsh in my ministrations of you, but this has to stop now. We can begin again…"

"No father." Draco said again, in the same neutral tone.

Lucius lost his careful composure now. "What do you mean, to simply tell me no." he hissed angrily.

"I mean that I don't want to come back. I do not want to live in the manor. And I don't want to work for you, or for any legal firm, for that matter. And I don't want to smooth anything over, or lie. You cannot accept that I don't want these things."

"Fine. "Lucius said through clenched teeth. "You don't have to work for the firm. Go and study if you want to…"

"And I don't want to pretend I'm not gay. And that is something I know you will never accept." Draco interrupted him. Harry knew that he alone could have redetected the tiny quaver in his voice when he said that, and thus knew how much courage it had taken to say it. He wanted to reach out to touch him, but knew that now was not the time. He had to do it on his own.

Lucius was clenching his fists. "You are not gay. This is simply a phase, something most young men go through."

"It isn't. And I am not going to waste time explaining it to a narrow minded totalitarian like you. Take everything away, all the money, the car, and my accounts. Take it all, but it won't make me come running back to you begging you to take me in. it won't convince me to change my mind about what I am. And while it is rather unfortunate that you can't accept it, it is no longer the end of my world that you don't."

"It's repulsive, and unnatural-"Lucius spoke as if he was trying not to vomit.

"It doesn't matter what you think. I'm done being your puppet, your prized bull and your perfect heir. Do what you have to, lie to whomever you need to, because I know you will; you can't possibly have a gay son. But it won't change."

Lucius took a step towards his son then, and said in a low tone. "I will take it all, you ungrateful, pathetic waste of a son. And I will make sure that people know…" he started but Draco held up his hand.

"You may tell the world, I am not hiding anymore. However, if you try to besmirch my name with lies, in an effort to have some sort of petty revenge on me and thus crippling any future I might carve for myself, I am warning you. I have taken photos of the ark you left on me. I have catalogued how it has taken to heal and documented exactly how it came about, not to mention your crude witch hunting methods to try and force me to deny my sexuality." Draco dropped his hands, his voice as cold as ice. "Abuse had many forms, and I doubt that you would want your reputation to be sullied further, on my account."

"You wouldn't."

"I would. As you taught me how to be ruthless and clever. Not everything you taught me has been useless." Draco replied.

Lucius knew he was out manoeuvred. Possibly one of the only times in his adult life it had ever happened. He glared at his son for a long moment and turned and spat on the ground. Then he sent his loathing look Harry's way.

"If you ever seek me out, I will have you dealt with. "He threatened darkly.

"Believe me, you don't have to worry about that." Harry replied and a jolly tone, mocking his efforts at being frightening. He was feeling rather smug. Lucius spun on his heel and walked back his oversized Buick without another word.

When the last sounds of his car struggling over the gravel died away, Harry walked up to Draco. He carefully took his hand to find it was shaking hard. Through the entire exchange Draco had come across and confident and unafraid, but harry was allowed to see exactly how much act of bravery had cost him. They sank down to sit and Snuffles used the opportunity to put his head in Harry's lap.

"Nicely done." Harry quipped, hoping to relax his lover who was now very obviously pale. "Need some tea?"

Draco let out a small laugh. "God yes. But I just want to sit for a minute." He shuddered out a breath. "That was awful."

Harry thought back on the things his father had said and saw red again. "You should have let me hit him."

Draco smiled but shook his head. "No, it would have been justified and very satisfying, but ultimately he would have used it against me. I know how he thinks. This way, I have him in a bind. He cannot outright hurt me without hurting his reputation. And reputation is everything to him." He rubbed Snuffles head absently, still calming. "I wasn't expecting him to come here, but I suppose he just cannot conceive that I am not the son he raised."

Harry humphed, not really caring what Lucius thought. "He is a prick."

"So I heard you call him." Draco replied without rancour. Harry turned to him and Draco was leaning his head don his shoulder, letting his eyes close. Harry hollowed out his neck so that he fit better and put an arm around his lover's shoulders, as if he could protect him.

"You know that you're home, don't you?" he asked, rubbing a circle on his arm.

"Yes." Draco sighed out, and Harry heard the relieved happiness in it.

"Good. Let's go make tea." But Draco's hand came out to rest on his leg, stopping him.

"Harry, I need to thank you. If you hadn't let me come back, I wouldn't have been able to turn him away today." He said to him.

Harry let that sink in. It was true, but he certainly want Draco to feel indebted to him because of it.

"Where you are, is where I am. That's all there is to it now." He replied, hoping it would explain things.

Draco pulled away to look him in the eye. "And everything that entails?"

Harry met his eyes without reserve. "yes." He answered. "I can't say I know everything that's going to happen, and it's probably going to be a bit complicated sometimes, but as long as…" he paused and rubbed his face, but forged on. "As long as were doing it together this time."

Draco held his leg tighter. "I won't leave you again." He promised.

Harry closed his eyes. Up until that second, he hadn't realised how much he wanted to hear him say that. "Good. And I won't leave you again."

"Deal."

Later than evening, Harry was putting salve on Draco's bruise again. It had healed most of way, only a faint brown blemish now. Harry knew he didn't really need to keep putting arnica on, but he wanted to. It helped both of them. Harry was sitting beside Draco, leaning low to see the mark. In his mind, he could still see the livid purplish blue stain as wide as a hand spread over Draco's ribs. Harry had suspected bruised ribs in the bargain. It must have hurt like blazes, but Draco hadn't even remembered it until Harry had spotted it. Which was a testament to the state of his mind when he had arrived a week before. Now though, he casually rested his arm on Harry head while he was bent low.

"My arm gets tired." Draco mock complained.

"Humph, you need exercise, then." Harry retorted but left his arm where it was while he worked.

"Perhaps I should go back to mixed martial arts." Draco mused.

"Or you could help dig the garden sometime."

"And take away your obvious pleasure in the task? That would be selfish."

The banter was easy and relaxed them both. Harry finished and straightened, but Draco didn't lower his arm, instead letting his fingers touch Harry's hair.

Harry felt tingly at the touch. Though things had healed enough between them emotionally, physically they had ventured no further than holding each other at night, and that one kiss. There seemed to be a barrier that both of them were afraid to breach. But Harry felt his own tension grow daily, watching Draco step out of the shower, his hair wet from washing, or even watching his elegant hands as they turned the pages of a book. There was a reason he was working so hard in the garden. He yearned to be touched again, and to touch in turn, but didn't want to push Draco into something he wasn't ready for. So he leaned slightly into his hand but didn't reach out on his own.

"I couldn't believe you cut your hair." Draco said, he said while his fingers toyed with the locks. It had already grown a fair bit, no longer close to his scalp, but still thick and coarse.

Harry looked away. "I was trying to…" he started but trailed off

"Forget me." Draco finished.

Harry said nothing. It had been a small act of petty revenge, as if it might purge him of thoughts he had wanted to forget.

"I don't blame you, Harry. I really don't. After everything..."

"well, it didn't work very well did it?' Harry replied, fidgeting with a fold in the bed spread.

"What didn't?" Draco asked, confused.

"Forgetting you. I spent so much time actively not thinking about you, not sleeping in our bed, not making tea, cutting my damned hair, and as soon as you show up at my door is still rolled over like a dog." Harry reflected, perhaps a touch bitterly because Draco's hand dropped. Harry caught the distressed expression and hurried to amend his words. "I didn't mean it the way that sounded. Shit. I just meant that I tried everything I could think of. I really did, but I think that somewhere I didn't really want to forget you at all. I just didn't want to hurt so much." Harry sighed and grasped Draco's leg apologetically.

Draco nodded, "I understand." He looked guilty. "About Blaise…"

Now Harry felt confused. "Blaise? That prick? What about him?"

Draco seemed a little awkward now. "I know you saw him kissing me, and gave him a broken nose for the effort."

Harry recalled the night clearly, though he had been slightly drunk. The instant rage he felt that anyone would touch Draco in such an intimate way was still there, tucked away. But knew it could easily be wakened again. He had only realised how possessive he felt over him that night.

"I hoped it healed crooked." He offered without remorse. Draco smirked.

"Perhaps it did, I wouldn't know. I never bothered to speak to him again, and he certainly was too much of a coward to face me." Draco breathed in as if to steel himself. "But I recall your words that night, what you said to him I mean."

Harry looked searchingly at Draco, who was still staring at the wall. He was leaning on his arms on the bed spread, his long body curved gracefully. Harry let his eyes look, for it seemed like a display that he was meant to appreciate. "I said a few things. Anything in specific you are talking about?" he probed.

Draco's eyes darted to his. "You said, 'he's mine.'"

Harry discovered he was holding his breath. "I did say that."

Draco replied carefully now. "Did you mean it?"

Harry felt an animalistic feeling growing in his chest. "Yes. I still do." And with Draco lying there in such a way, like he was waiting for Harry to show him how possessive he could be…

"Care to prove it?" Draco finally said softly.

Harry needed no further invitation. He leaned over Draco, covering him easily and snaking an arm around his lower back to prevent him from falling. but also to feel his body flush with his. They kissed clumsily, and Harry felt his need echoed in Draco when he raked his nails across Harry's sides, returning the kiss whole heartedly.

"god, and here I've been waiting for you to be ready…" Harry muttered with annoyance as he kissed his way into the soft area of skin on Draco neck. Neck gasped but still managed to reply with a snide tone. "I've been ready since that first day I saw you in the fucking garden."

"I have missed you." he told him fervently as they worked at removing the last few inconvenient article of clothing. Draco's skin was as silky as ever, probably improved by their time apart. Draco's hand wrapped around the back of his head while he sucked at the flesh on Draco's neck, and he bit Harrys shoulder in return. It was as if they simply couldn't be close enough, taste enough.

"Draco, "Harry shuddered as his lover straddled him as if they hadn't been apart. He opened his eyes and looked at him, "I really missed you. Please don't leave again."

Draco looked at him with a mixture of shared pain, lust and love. "I won't." He promised.

Their kisses lasted long into the night.

It was another 3 days before Narcissa Malfoy found Grimmauld Place. This time, harry and Draco were sitting on the largest couch, drinking tea for breakfast as Harry was too lazy to cook. Snuffles had given up hope of sneaking leftovers and had passed out on the rug in front of the fire place. He sat up suddenly, ears pricked and soon lumbered his way out the kitchen door and around the house. By the time they heard what he had, the large animal was already at the gate, to meet a long baby blue Ferrari. Narcissa Malfoy however had clearly seen the ever enthusiastic Snuffles and had rethought her decision to get out. Harry and Draco watched from the window.

"It's raining Malfoys. "Harry commented acerbically.

"Hysterical." Draco commented.

"I didn't know Ferraris came in baby blue?" Harry said as Draco pulled away, making his way to the front door.

"She had it custom made. It's the only one. "Draco informed him. Harry raised an eyebrow. Even he knew having a Ferrari custom made into an exclusive colour was extravagant.

"And all you got was a Lexus." Harry threw back, following the blonde man. Draco didn't comment but waved at him dismissively, opening the door.

As they walked out onto the landing, Narcissa saw them and waved. Harry came to stand beside Draco, arms crossed. Draco stood with his hands in his pockets, looking calculating.

"Your call?" Harry said. "Do you want me to stay?"

Draco turned to him with a look of surprise. "Of course. This is our house isn't it?" he said.

Harry grinned and leaned close to kiss him, which Draco returned easily. "So it is." He looked up and whistled. Snuffled looked back at them, his lounge lolling tongue wiping slobber on the shiny door of the Ferrari. Harry tried not to snigger, but Snuffles came bounding back to them anyway.

"Come on you, I suppose you want breakfast." Snuffles barked eagerly in reply.

When Harry returned from filling Snuffles' bowl, Draco was leading his mother into the house. He caught Harry's eye and sent him a look which told him to be cautious. Draco had said that his mother had been absent the entire duration of his house arrest. They truly had no idea if she had known about it and kept away, which would mean she had given his father permission to abuse their so, or if she hadn't known. Draco no longer had a phone or laptop, and they didn't have reception anyway, so there was no way for her to get into contact with him. They had been content let it lie for a while until they felt like returning to civilisation. But now that she had found them instead, their avoidance was no longer effective. Harry shrugged internally. After Lucius had found the place, it was only matter of time.

Narcissa moved her way into the lounge slowly, looking completely at ease and taking in the house as she did, her eyes seeming to observe every detail. Eventually she met Harry's gaze; she seemed immune to the cautious stares Harry and Draco gave her.

"It is lovely to meet you again Harry. Your home is beautiful." She smiled warmly at him, and Harry felt off balance.

"Thanks. It belonged to my parents…" he started but stopped when Draco sent him a warning glance. Harry shrugged as if to say 'fine.' he turned back to her. "I can make some tea?"

"Tea would be much appreciated. It was a very long drive." She replied and folded herself neatly onto the two seater couch, still looking around. Harry turned the kettle on, wondering why Draco still hadn't spoken. "I am afraid we don't have much. Some earl grey..." he started rifling through the tea supply.

"Chamomile please. I know you must have it, as it is Draco's favourite." She replied casually. Harry paused, looking once again to Draco. But Draco was staring at his mother. He was tense, Harry could see that much, more so than he had been with his father. He made a cup of the chamomile and brought it to her, unsweetened, leaving her to find the sugar bowl on the coffee table in front of her.

"Thank you Harry." She told him artlessly. "And please Draco, won't you sit down?"

Harry felt awkward, standing between his mother and him. But eventually Draco did sit down across from her and Harry took the invitation to sit beside him. Their hands found each other easily.

"Why are you here mother?" Draco asked the exact same question he had asked his father, but his voice had far more emotion in it this time. He felt betrayed.

Narcissa, however, did not mewl or complain at his unfriendliness, but nodded and set her cup down neatly. "I understand you are feeling wary Draco."

Harry felt Draco grip tighten. "Am I? Why could that be?"

Narcissa looked at her son with a look so full of motherly understanding even Draco relaxed a touch. "Draco, while you may not choose to believe me, I will tell you that the reason I have come here is to tell you the truth. I didn't know." She told him, and Harry couldn't see any artifice in her expression.

Draco was not so easily swayed. "How could you possibly not have known?" he bit back.

"I have spoken to you father." She said to him, her face looking grave, her eyebrows pinched. "A few days ago, he came home in a very unpleasant state, I forced him to confess to me."

"He must have suspected the answer you would give that night, Draco, when he went to confront you at school. And so, the day before he surprised me with a trip away to Madagascar. I wasn't terribly willing, but had no reason to say no, so I went. I wrote to you about it, but apparently you didn't receive any letters from me. Or anyone. By the time I came back, you were gone. Eustace was the one who told me what had happened, what your father had done. After I confronted him and forced him to tell me exactly what had occurred, I found the address and came here."

She finished her explanation neatly, but her face was remorseful. "Draco, I didn't know."

Draco looked down at their clasped hands and was quiet a long time. "Alright mother. I really have no more energy to give to the matter, so I'll believe you. But it doesn't explain why you are here now."

Narcissa looked shocked at her son's bluntness but didn't react to it. She went on smoothly. "Your father is a vindictive man. And he cannot stand being wrong or thwarted. He told me what he had decided, that you were no longer our son, and would be disinherited…" she paused and for the first time since she arrived, her façade of calm control cracked a little. "Draco, I want you to know that I understand how hard it was for you to stand up to him, to choose your own happiness in spite of everything we have both done to make sure you never strayed from any path but the one we chose for you. It must have been monumentally hard for you, and I am proud of you. I always have been, but I am now too. And anyone who asks me will know that too."

Harry saw Draco swallow but say nothing. She seemed to gather herself as she went on. "Your father was hasty in his petty revenge I'm afraid. He forgets that he married me for my family money, and more than half of the wealth in our household is mine, in my name, Narcissa Black. The same can be said of the controlling shares of the firm. He was quite…unpleasant when I informed him that you would not be disinherited, or shamed in any way."

Harry's eyes widened. Once again Lucius had been outmanoeuvred. But Draco spoke then with concern.

"Mother, will he…hurt you?" he asked tentatively. She looked at him as if it was a ridiculous notion but her words stilled in her mouth. Realisation came to her face and made it pale. She covered her mouth, horror plain on her features as she stared at her son. Draco met her eyes steadily.

"It's alright mother. Harry took care of me." He told her but it didn't comfort her.

"I should have taken care of you. My son…" she closed her eyes, and Harry thought she looked ashamed. Then the look was replaced with one of anger, and Harry could recognise it well. "I will deal with him." She said in a vicious tone. Draco shook his head.

"I already made sure it didn't go any further. Don't put yourself in harm's way on my account."

"Your father bears no fear from me, I assure you." she spoke in disgust.

Draco looked uncertain then, looking at Harry. Harry shrugged, understanding her sentiment.

She once again drew herself back from the emotions and composed herself. "In any case, that is not why I am here today, although I am exceedingly glad you told me. For such a legally minded man, he can incredibly stupid." She hissed, then went on as if she hadn't. "I am here to give you this."

She pull out a carefully rolled, very thick envelope and held it out, which Draco took curiously. He was much calmer now, Harry noticed, now that his mother had proven she hadn't abandoned him to torture at his father's hands. The envelope was still sealed but had the Cambridge loo on its cover.

"I highly doubt those are anything but your acceptance papers. Rejection letters aren't so thick." She commented drily.

Draco didn't open it, but stared at it. It was Harry who spoke.

"You applied?" he asked quietly. He recalled that evening eons ago, when he had all but forced Draco into applying to university for anything but law. "What did you apply for?"

"English diploma." Draco replied just as quietly.

Harry's heart soared. He had received his acceptance letters just before Draco had arrived, but had been debating spending a year off, as it was obvious Draco wouldn't be able to go study without funds and would be too proud to let Harry pay for him. But now they could go together…

"I have already paid for your first year. So you have no choice but to attend. I hope you applied to English because you enjoy it, rather than out of some misguided joke." His mother added into the quiet. Draco's hands were steady but his voice quavered. "Thank you mother."

She looked at her son fondly. "I have also ensured that you will not be a penniless street urchin, as your father would have preferred. Although I see that this would not been the case anyway." She said looking at Harry with the same fondness. Her eyes said thank you, and Harry nodded in acceptance.

"I have a flat, in the city. We can stay there. "He said as much to her as to Draco. Draco still hadn't looked at him. Harry began to wonder if he wasn't happy about all this after all, but Draco's hand came up and grasped his once more.

"I…yes that will be perfect." He answered, and Harry saw the joy in his face.

Harry grinned back so widely his face stretched, suddenly over joyed at the prospect of them attending university together. "Snuffles will love it." He said

Draco face dropped into a scowl. "You can't bring a dog to a flat." He said flatly.

"Why not?"

"Because it's a flat, Harry. Not a farm. And that creature is enormous. It would be cruel and it would stink." Draco shook his head.

"Alright. Maybe we could get a cat though." Draco groaned. Then his mother cleared her throat pointedly.

"I am glad you applied Draco. You've always been more of a poet at heart." She commented.

Draco looked at her, his face now totally open. "Mother, don't you mind? At the party, you warned me. You told me to be discreet, because people would be sure to gossip…"

She shook her head. "Yes, that is true. But I only told you that because I knew you wouldn't want your father finding out. That is now no longer the issue, and unlike him, I don't care that my son is gay. I only care that you are happy."

"But the fallout from this will affect your reputation too."

She inclined her head, acknowledging it. "Yes, it will. That in unavoidable. However, I would rather be known as a woman who puts her son first, than for her career in charity functions and political parties. And in any case, this has its own advantages. There are many more avenues I can pursue through this; gay rights for example. In fact, it might serve to help me build my reputation, albeit in a different direction. I was getting bored anyway. "She said, and Harry was sure that she would wink at them if it wasn't such a low class thing to do.

Draco shook his head, but smiled a little. "Father will never support you."

"He really doesn't have a choice. Unless he wants us to appear divided as a couple. And he simply cannot afford to do that. He won't be actively involved, but he won't get in my way either." She said, and Harry saw she must have a backbone of steel to see all the conflict and uphill her future was going to have because of this, and still face it without flinching.

"Ever the Malfoy." Draco mused.

"Ever the Black." She corrected. The put her tea cup aside with a decisive clink.

"Now that that's out of the way, my tea had gone cold and I would like a tour of your house before I leave."

Draco looked at her in consternation. "You're leaving again so soon? It's nearly night and the drive is at least 3 hours." he asked.

She looked mildly flustered, "Well, I was going to find a hotel on the way back…"

"We have a spare room, if you want it." He offered without hesitation. She looked taken aback for a moment then her face grew soft and she cleared her throat again. "Yes, thank you that would be lovely."

Narcissa Malfoy stayed for 2 nights. It seemed a bit strange at first, but she was an easy guest, making very little demands on them they couldn't fulfil. Draco seemed brighter with her presence there, so that was enough for Harry, but she made easy conversation with them both and seemed genuinely interested in what life was like in Hexway. Though Harry didn't know a lot about it, he told her it was calm and cut off and they were perfectly happy with that. She nodded and asked to be taking on a tour around the town. Draco took her out on his own, Harry sensing that some time with just each other was needed. By the time she had packed herself back into her car, she had developed an entirely affectionate relationship with Snuffles, even though Harry still had to hold him back at times. She kissed them both on the cheek, and hugged Draco with a real warmth. Draco still looked taken aback at this, but accepted it as best he could.

"I'll see you at graduation." She told them both, her tone was light but her eyes showed it was more of an instruction. She wouldn't hear of them missing it.