A/N: Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I'm glad you're all enjoying the story. I'm pleased that so many of you have figured out what's going on (even if Draco hasn't).


Harry returned from his trip the following week. Draco avoided him for the first couple of days, only knowing of his return through Ginny. True to his word to her, he kept all conversation away from discussing her woes—or triumphs—over the relationship Draco had helped create. Since Harry didn't come to his office and Draco didn't seek him out, Draco could only assume from Ginny's relaxed posture that Harry had made good on the sensual promises he'd offered. It was a monumental task not thinking about how those were promises Harry had made to Draco—even if he didn't know it.

He couldn't avoid Harry forever, though. They still had a house to repair, and he would eventually have to face the repercussions of his duplicity. Now that Harry had returned and they were through with the final plans for his house, Draco drafted a memo to his immediate supervisor asking permission to complete the assignment. As soon as he was given the word, he would send another memo to Harry, no matter how reluctant he was to do so.

Just as he was folding the parchment and sending it on its way, there was a knock on his door. It opened slowly, and Harry peered in. Draco swallowed a sigh that was halfway between anxiety and pleasure at the sight. Harry looked marvellous—the trip had done him some good. His already golden skin was a shade darker, and he looked relaxed and happy. Draco's quill hand trembled, and he rested it on his desk to stop the motion.

"Hello," Harry said, but his soft smile faded when Draco didn't return the warm greeting. "Erm, is everything all right?"

Draco drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes. My apologies. What can I assist you with?"

Harry's eyes crinkled, and the corner of his mouth lifted. "So formal today. You hadn't been round to see me since I returned, and I wondered how my house was coming on."

"I've just sent a memo to my supervisor, and we should be able to begin soon. I shall let you know." Unable to bear more conversation lest he give something away, Draco turned his gaze to the blank parchment in front of him.

"Ah, I see."

When Harry didn't move from his spot, Draco looked up again. "Was there something else?"

"Well…er…yes, as a matter of fact." Harry paused, and a troubled frown crossed his face. "Have you, erm, been avoiding me?"

Draco didn't know how to answer, so to buy himself a few minutes, he replied, "Pardon?"

"I seem somewhere to have put my foot in it or something," Harry said. Quickly, he added, "Because if I've done something to offend you, I'm sorry. I know we don't have a good history, but I thought we were doing well so far. Especially since…" It was hard to tell, but Harry's cheeks seemed to have gone slightly pink, and he didn't finish his sentence.

It took every ounce of Draco's strength not to break and tell Harry the truth. His heart ached, and he wished he could confess to the whole thing. It would have done no good, however—Harry was unavailable, and the best Draco could hope for was to continue the friendship they'd begun to build before Harry's trip. It pained Draco to know it would never be more. He sat silently for a long time before he responded.

"No. It's nothing like that," he said at last. "I'm sorry too. It's been a difficult few days, and I'm reserving my energy for the work on your house." He attempted a reassuring smile. "As soon as we have permission, I'll notify you."

Harry nodded. "All right." He paused again. "I've, ah, missed your company. Did you—did you want to have a drink with us after work today?"

Draco's resolve was crumbling, but he held on. "I can't tonight. Perhaps after we finish your house."

"Okay. I'll leave you to it, then."

This time, Harry walked out, leaving Draco alone at his desk with his misery. He propped his cheek with his fist and breathed steadily, willing himself not to fall apart at his desk. Only the arrival of a set of afternoon assignments spared him from coming undone altogether.


Draco received a reply from his supervisor the next morning that he could go in whenever Harry was ready. With luck, they would be able to go to the house on Friday, remove the spells, and list the house by Monday. As promised, he sent a memo to Harry asking him to stop by his office. Just before lunch, Ginny arrived for the meeting arm in arm with Harry. It took everything in Draco not to react in any way other than to invite them to have a seat so they could go over the details. It turned out he'd been right about the timing; there wasn't anything else to do—Harry confirmed he had already repaired everything else in the place so it could be sold, including delivering all the remaining Dark artifacts to the Ministry as soon as he'd returned from his trip. Bringing in the Curse-Breakers was the last stage.

"We're ready to do this, yeah?" Harry asked.

"Ready as we'll ever be. We can't be sure we'll get everything until we show up there, but we'll do our best. The only barrier has been not being able to bring in the entire team. Ginny and I have outlined the strategy start to finish, and we should be able to take off all the old spells you showed me."

"Good. What time?"

"Let's say ten? That way I have time to brief the team before we go in."

Harry grinned. "This is such a relief. When even Hermione couldn't do enough research to find out how to get rid of everything, we knew it was bad." His smile faltered a little. "I can't thank you enough for all the trouble you've gone to for me."

Draco scoffed. "Not for you, Potter. It's my job." He instantly regretted his words; Harry looked—well, disappointed, in fact. "Oh, all right. Maybe it was a little bit for you." He tried to smile, but he was sure he didn't quite make it.

"Well, I'm certain you'll be glad to see the back of me once this is over." Harry sounded tense, as though he himself couldn't wait for that day.

Keeping his tone neutral-to-light, Draco replied, "It certainly has kept me occupied. I'm not sure what I'll do with myself all day." He swallowed thickly. Once this was over, he had no more reason to associate with Harry. And with Harry and Ginny cozily paired off, Draco also had no more reason to send him letters laced with innuendo. He contemplated taking on a few extra cases in order to fill the gap.

Harry merely nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow at ten. We'll meet here so I can give your team the Apparition coordinates, and once we're in the neighbourhood I'll follow your plan to take a few in at a time."

"Fair enough. See you then."

Harry turned to go. "When this is over, maybe…" he said.

"Hm?"

With a shake of his head, Harry replied, "Never mind. Tomorrow, then." He walked out of the office.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was a good thing he wouldn't see much of Harry when they were through. He'd be settling in at the University soon, and there wouldn't be the constant threat of his presence. Perhaps Draco would burn all the letters then to set himself free.

Then again, maybe he wouldn't.


Draco, Ginny, and the team of curse-breakers collected in Grimmauld Place. There didn't seem to be anything amiss, though Draco caught sight of the odd shadow around the corner of the neighbour's house again. He wondered what sort of animal it was and whether he needed to have someone from the Ministry investigate its presence. It was a relief when Harry appeared to begin bringing them up to the house.

Harry took them in pairs; the first ones disappeared between houses eleven and thirteen, followed be three more sets of people. At last Harry retrieved Draco and Ginny. When they set foot on the top step at the doorway, Draco drew in his breath. He was reminded again of why Harry was so anxious to be rid of the place.

Inside, they began working immediately. They broke through each layer of the protective charms patiently, the way a parent might unwind the tangled string on a child's pull-toy. By the time they were fifteen minutes in, everyone was concentrating intently on the task at hand.

It took three hours, but Draco was confident they'd gotten all the charms except the last remnants of the fidelius. He pulled Harry aside. "We need you for this," he said. We have to disentangle you from it. I don't believe it will come to this, but if it doesn't work, we may have to locate every person still living who has become secret-keeper."

"I understand." Harry placed himself inside a circle of curse-breakers. Draco saw him swallow heavily as they all trained their wands on him. It certainly took courage to let that many people surround him, wands out, whilst trusting they were there to do him no harm.

The curse-breakers used a complicated spell to make the threads of the charm visible. One by one, Draco cut through them. When the last one released, there was a faint, high-pitched ringing. It lasted for fifteen seconds before dying out into nothing. The whole house was silent. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. They'd done it.

"Congratulations," Draco said to Harry. "Your house is no longer unplot—"

Before he could finish, the wall just above Draco's head suddenly exploded, raining wood, plaster, and paint over him. "What the hell?"

The others were shouting. Six burly men in black, hooded robes wearing masks that covered their faces had appeared, surrounding the team. There were shouts, and Draco lost track of what was happening as he tried to defend both himself and his team.

"It's Potter we want," one of them growled. "The rest of you won't get hurt if you stay out of our way."

No, Draco thought. Not Harry. He aimed his wand and tried to stun them. "Harry!" He shouted. "Get out and get help!"

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Harry ducking around a corner. A moment later, a huge, silvery stag dashed off. Draco turned back to the attackers and resumed his battle.

Without warning, Draco was hurled into the air and dashed against the wall behind him. Something flew at him, catching him in the chest. He crashed to the floor and heard a sickening snap. He was sure he'd broken his leg. Whatever had hit him had knocked the wind out of him, and he was finding it hard to breathe.

He barely registered when the Aurors showed up. All around him, spells were flying. It seemed like an eternity, but it was probably only about ten minutes until the Aurors finally had everything under control. Draco wondered what had happened to Harry. He closed his eyes; he could feel himself losing consciousness and concentrated on staying aware.

He felt a firm hand on his shoulder and slight pressure to his neck, which he tried to resist. Someone said, "He's alive, but he's hurt pretty badly." Draco cracked his eyelids to see Ron crouched in front of him.

Draco coughed, and it sounded wet even to his own ears. He tried to draw in a breath but choked. "Please…"

"Shhh," Ron said. "We're getting help."

"Ginny—" Draco struggled to sit up.

"Everyone else is fine," Ron assured him. "Some injuries, but no one's dead."

"Harry?" he whispered.

"Stunned, but he had presence of mind to toss his wand away first."

"Stupid…"

"No, very smart, actually, under the circumstances."

"Tell him—tell him I'm sorry."

"Tell him yourself, you prat. You're not dying." Ron's words were confident, but there was an unmistakable shake in his voice.

"Okay," Draco murmured just as he was swallowed up by darkness.