Harry rubbed his eyes blearily as he walked down to dinner. Frankly he'd known most of the curriculum already. Defence Against the Dark Arts had become something more than just a subject to him. He wasn't sure if it was due to Professor McGonagall's loud declarations of his future as an Auror, DA, his life facing Lord Voldemort, or a combination of the three. It didn't make a difference though, because looking at the Syllabus, Harry had noticed something awful towards the end of the year; a knowledge of Legillimency and Occulumency.

As all of Harry's friends knew at this point, Harry was awful on both counts. Well, perhaps not Legillimency, having never tried it himself. Occulumency, on the other hand…

The boy cringed at the memory; kneeling on the cold dungeon floor at Snape's feet , defeated. It wasn't a memory he cherished at all. And then Malfoy running in, that sneer on his face.

"Remedial potions?" What an arse…Harry thought to himself with annoyance before walking into the drawing room to see none other than Draco Malfoy sprawled out on his couch. Right… that.

Harry smiled bitterly as he looked at the blond boy. He'd been living with Draco for two weeks now, and by this point he had a hard time remembering what it was like to live alone. Or rather, alone with Kreacher. Draco and the elf didn't tend to get along very well, but Harry understood that the way he was raised would take a while to beat out of him. He'd taken to saying thank you when the elf brought them food though, which was a start. He could remember the times Hermione and Ron had complained about the blond Slytherin with him, the times they'd paid him back for his torture, almost as if it was yesterday. How ironic that now they were sharing a house.

Somehow, in his head, Harry had managed to make Draco Malfoy two separate entities; Malfoy, who occasionally peeked his head out when Harry gave him too good of an opening and who had haunted the majority of his days at Hogwarts, and Draco, a relatively tolerable houseguest who seemed genuinely pleased to be living somewhere that wasn't the train station. Harry wasn't sure which one was dangling off of his couch reading a book at the moment though.

"Wotcha got there?" Harry asked, deciding to find out. The Slytherin Prince looked up with a smile.

"You know, this Lewis Carroll fellow isn't half bad," he said, thoughtfully. "Although I can't say much for someone who dwells for too long on hookah-smoking caterpillars."

Harry blinked at him disbelievingly. "You're… reading… a muggle book?"

"Well it said classic on the front," Draco said nonchalantly. "I admit I was a little curious as to what muggle children read about."

Harry stared at him, wondering if he'd finally gone off the deep end. Draco smirked a little.

"Close your mouth, Harry, lest you catch flies."

Harry obliged with a snap. "Right…"

Draco sighed pitifully. "Well, there's not much else to do in the house."

"So go out," Harry said bluntly. Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"Go out? I'm surprised you can go out. How can you stand people staring at you like that? It drives me insane," Draco said, exasperatedly. "I didn't mind so much before. Frankly, I rather enjoyed being cosseted. But now? Look at where I am!"

Harry cleared his throat warningly, and Draco paused.

"Not to imply anything about your hospitality of course, I simply meant my company-"

"What's wrong with your company, Draco?" Harry demanded, face flushing. Draco blinked at him, intrigued. "What?"

"You have an awful temper," he pointed out mildly. Harry couldn't help but be reminded of Dumbledore when faced with someone's raging temper, and this only made the boy angrier. He settled for letting a frustrated noise escape between his teeth. "In any case, I simply meant to say that no one would expect me to be rooming with Harry Potter of all people."

"Yeah, well, beggars can't be choosers," Harry growled, but he looked slightly mollified. Draco smirked slightly.

"Yes, tactful choice of words, Chosen One," he said, voice only slightly mocking. Harry looked confused for a moment before flushing with embarrassment. He'd forgotten that Draco had been forced to panhandle himself.

"Ah… erm… I'm s-"

"Please don't," the boy said loftily. "I already have a rather grand bloody bitch of a conscience gnawing at me as it is. I don't need you apologizing to me."

Harry was saved from having to respond by the appearance of Kreacher.

"Dinner is ready, Master, Mister Malfoy."

"Thanks, Kreacher."

Draco followed Harry into the dining room, sitting at the left of Harry's seat at the head of the table. Kreacher had set out onion soup for starters, and the boys helped themselves in silence for a few moments.

"Harry…?" Draco began.

"Yeah?"

"I've been wondering – what did you do the last year?"

Harry looked at him in shock. "What?" He'd thought the sight of Draco Malfoy reading Alice in Wonderland would be the most startling thing he would have to deal with that night.

"I mean, I know you were destroying the horcruxes. The whole wizarding world does," Draco clarified. "But where were you? How did you know where to find them?"

Harry pulled himself out of his shock with a shrug. "We didn't, truthfully. We spent a lot of the time in the house, trying to figure out what Dumbledore had wanted us to do. It didn't work very well, to tell you the truth. We tried to get into the Ministry, but that failed. A death eater followed us back to the house finally, and we had to abandon it."

Kreacher took away their empty soup bowls, replacing it with the main course; lamb with potatoes. Draco grinned widely at the food, and Harry smirked at him as he took a nice fat piece and a large spoon of potatoes. Well, he supposed the boy was emaciated and therefore entitled.

"The house?" Draco repeated once he'd finished off a few mouthfuls. "You mean this house?"

Harry snorted. "I don't own any other houses, Draco."

"You mean you were right here under our ruddy noses the whole time?" Draco said disbelievingly. Harry gave him a withering look. He did not want to be reminded that the emaciated young man he was housing had, in fact, been a death eater. "We thought you'd just been here for the night or something. Then of course that bloody house elf came and attacked us…"

Harry raised his eyebrows. He hadn't heard this part. "Kreacher attacked you?"

Malfoy snorted back. "Him and all the blooming portraits. Of course, they were happy at first, what with all the purebloods rushing in. It didn't take too long for the raucous noise to start though."

Harry felt something warm expand in his chest knowing the house elf had done such a thing, even if it hadn't really been for him. "Thank you, Kreacher!" he called. There was an alarmed noise and a clang heard from the general direction of the kitchen, but nothing else followed.

"So, what happened after that?" Draco asked, shaking off the look of disgust that had inhabited his face while Harry had thanked the elf.

Harry shrugged. "We apparated around. It took us a while, but finally we managed to figure out where some of the horcruxes were. Thing is, we had a bit of trouble destroying them once we found the bloody things. Basilisk fangs and Gryffindor's sword seemed to do the trick though." He grinned. "You know the rest."

"But… you just apparated around?" Draco repeated. Harry snickered.

"A little hard of hearing there, Draco?"

The blond boy fell silent for a few moments, thinking. Harry watched as his face sobered. "Speaking of hearing… my mother said to thank you."

"What?" Harry asked, confused. Narcissa was in Azkaban, wasn't she?

"For testifying. At her hearing."

Harry flushed. "Oh, right. Yeah. Well… it was only right."

Draco smiled wistfully. "Yes, Gryffindor pride and all that nonsense." He stood up quickly, tossing aside his napkin. "Well, erm… tell Kreacher thanks for dinner."

Harry looked skeptically at him. "You're not going to wait for dessert?"

Draco stood for a moment, looking torn for a few seconds, before resolutely shaking his head. "No…" he said, sounding a little faint. "I'm… I'm stuffed."

Harry watched as the young man almost ran from the room and smiled wearily. Draco or Malfoy, it didn't matter on one count; both of them were cowards.


A flash of red hair disappeared around the corner. Harry ran after it, wand drawn, whole body strung high with tension. He was in a maze, chasing a ribbon of red as it disappeared into tunnels, through archways, around corners and over crumbled walls. He strained to see in the darkness.

"Ginny!" he called. There was a flash of red in the corner of his vision, and he ran after it, panting. "Ginny! Wait! Come back!"

The flash disappeared into a hole in the crumbling maze walls, and Harry felt anger boil up inside of him. "Bloody hell…" he growled. "Ginny!"

He ran for what seemed like an eternity, following that flash of red. He screamed until his throat hurt and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Panting heavily, he burst into a wide clearing where a girl sat on the edge of a water fountain, a curtain of red hair hiding her face from view.

"Ginny?" he croaked. The girl did not answer, but as he took a step forward Fenir Greyback and Lucius Malfoy burst into the clearing, wands raised.

"Ginny!" Harry screeched, his voice cracking from the strain. He waved his wand blindly, wordlessly cursing the Death Eaters, but his spells slid right through them as they grabbed the girl. She began to shriek. "Ginny!"

"Harry!" the girl screamed. The anger was bursting into fireworks behind his eyes now, his spells shattering the walls of the maze, the water fountain, everything but his targets and the girl, whose face was still obscured.

"Lucius, get off of her!" A derisive laugh was the only response as the man pulled out his wand and pointed it at the girl. "LET GO OF HER!"

Harry ran towards her, but the more he ran the farther away the fountain seemed to get…


Draco groaned and dragged the pillow over his head. He'd thought that Harry's now-famous tendency for having bad dreams would have passed with the death of his previous master, but he'd obviously been wrong. He growled angrily as Harry screamed the Weaslette's name again, then paused. He sounded like he was in real pain.

His conscience griped at him as he lay unmoving in bed, listening to the creak of Harry's bed as he thrashed wildly. He screamed again.

You should help him.

Do what? It's just a dream.

It's a nightmare, Malfoy.

So? Draco said to the voice angrily, not failing to note that the voice in his head had taken the form of a younger version of his black-haired host. Second Year Harry glared at him from behind his eyelids, and the Slytherin groaned loudly as he gave up on attempting to sleep.

"I'm going to bloody strangle him," he muttered, plodding softly out the door and across the hall to Harry's room. He knocked softly, not expecting an answer.

"Lucius!" came the scream from inside. Draco froze, his hand on the knob. His father was haunting Harry's dreams? "Get off of her!"

Draco paused as Mini-Harry yelled angrily in his head.

"LET GO OF HER!" Harry roared, and Draco jumped instinctively and consequently threw open the door.

The Boy Who Lived was tangled in his sheets, sweat-encased body glistening eerily in the pale moonlight cast by the spell-induced windows. His legs kicked aimlessly as if he was attempting to run, right hand gripping the comforter as if his life depended on it. Draco leaned over timidly and attempted to catch a hold of his shoulder, but Harry was moving too much.

"GINNY!" the boy shrieked, and Draco jumped about a foot. He wished he'd thought to take his mother's wand.

"Harry!" Draco called, his hand darting in among the flailing limbs and catching Harry's shoulder. The boy thrashed, pulling Draco into the bed with him, floundering appendages and all. Draco found himself socked in the gut, and grabbed Harry's other wrist, wrestling with the sleeping Gryffindor. He threw his weight as Harry paused for breath, twisting them both until he was straddling the other boy and pinning him to the bed. "Harry Potter, you bloody useless idiot! Wake up!"

The boy's eyes flew open in shock, and he blinked owlishly. They remained like that in silence for a few moments, both panting heavily. Draco's eyes moved unwillingly to the young man's bare chest, his mind flutteringly mentioning the apparent difference in looks that Harry had without his trademark glasses.

"Mraco?" he slurred tiredly after a few moments. He sounded bemused. "What…?"

"You were screaming like you'd bloody lost it, you stupid git. You expect me to sleep in that racket?" Draco demanded, his pale face flushing all the way down to his neck. Harry's eyes strayed for a moment as they followed the increasing amount of pink, then snapped back up to Draco's eyes.

"Erm… sorry about that…" Harry muttered. Draco relaxed a little.

"Yeah, well… not your fault you had a ruddy nightmare," Draco muttered. He was suddenly becoming increasingly aware that he was straddling a well-toned young man clad only in boxers. He wondered if he should move, but Harry made no move to buck him off. He decided to pretend he'd forgotten the awkwardness of their position. Or the possibilities, depending on how one took it…

He shook his head inwardly to clear it of such thoughts. "Do you… want to talk about it?" he asked grudgingly. Anything to keep him talking, keep his attention away from their position…

Bloody hell, what's wrong with you? the voice in his head asked amusedly. Because he seems to be enjoying this situation as much as you are.

Harry's attractive. That's not a crime.

Yes it bloody well is! He's fucking straight!

You don't know that…

Actually, yeah, I do!

Well does Harry?

Draco watched with interest as Harry's eyes surreptitiously skimmed over Draco's own bare chest. His trousers had slipped dangerously low during their tussle, and his hipbones jutted out and left a bit of a hollow between them while he was in this position; this left a few inches of skin untouched by the waistband but still covered, and Draco could imagine Harry behind him, sliding his hand through without even touching the fabric…

Stop that! he told himself crossly.

Why?

Because… because I can't be sprung on Harry Potter, that's why!

What's the harm in a little fun? Not to say you're sprung on him or-

Impossible!

Harry doesn't seem to think so.

There was a period of silence as their eyes met again, emerald clashing with green. Draco doubted very much that Harry had ever been in such close proximity with another bloke, and expected him to be highly confused at the moment. His mind spun madly, thinking of every possible way he could make this into one very… interesting night…

Something in his stomach tightened, but not for the reasons he thought it would. Second Year Harry was yelling at him again.

That's not the way to do it.

Why not?

Because Harry's probably never been with a bloke before!

So?

Not to mention it's particularly tactless to make a move on someone who just had a nightmare about your death eater father attacking the previous love of his life.

…Ah.

Yeah.

The Slytherin cleared his throat uncomfortably, and Harry flushed with embarrassment. Draco watched the blood rise to the surface of Harry's skin and slide over his neck…

Stop.

"Um… sorry," he said, getting off of him quickly. There was an awkward pause. "So… erm… you're alright, then?"

"Yeah, I think I've got it covered," Harry said.

There was another pause.

"Well… if you… you know, I'll just be in the other room."

"Yeah, I know," Harry said, and Draco wished he could see his face better. He would have bet ten galleons that the boy was blushing. "Uhm, thanks."

Draco flushed, suddenly glad of the darkness. "Yeah," he muttered. "Well… G'nite then."

"Right."

Draco practically ran out of the room, slamming both doors behind him before falling into his bed.

"What in Merlin's name have I gotten myself into?"

A/N: XD Draco is having problems… Maybe Harry has developed White Knight Syndrome after being forced to save the world… ^_^; Anywayy, review please!!!!!!