Draco's chest felt ready to burst with nervousness. He held his breath and bit his lip, his hands twisting the invisibility cloak harshly. "Come on," he whispered. "Come on, come on, come on."

Slowly, the doors opened up. Not much, just a small slip, but it was all Draco needed, and he rushed forward and slid inside. "Okay," Harry whispered, from some dark corner. "You got what to do?"

Draco closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes," he muttered. "Yes. I'm ready."

There was a whoosh of air as Harry transformed back into his snake form, and suddenly the darkness seemed so much more infinite. Swallowing thickly, Draco gulped down a deep breath, before raising his wand.

It was harder to cast the patronus than he expected to, but he'd entered the Dementors' territory, and it showed. The air was crisp and thin and terrifying, and although Draco had only been there for a few moments he felt the cold into his very bones.

"Expecto Patronum," Draco whispered, and although his fingers shook, his voice was steady. A silver fox faded into view like a cloud of moonlight, and Draco let out a breath of relief. "Okay," he breathed, and looked down at the floor beneath the fox. There was a snake there, blinking up at him with intelligent, green eyes. "Lead the way."

With a nod, Harry turned around and began to slither away.

There was a constant fear gnawing at Draco's chest as they walked through the stone halls, and even though his fox was pulsing with light and happiness, it felt like it was all gone from him. As his dull footsteps echoed between the walls he pondered about that – what did the patronus do? Did it suck out your happiness to make it manifest in something corporeal, or did your happiness create it?

Something pressed against his chest, and then it was inside of him, prodding at his heart, and then it was over. A new whooshing sound, and Harry stood next to him, his green eyes sparkling in the faint light of Draco's patronus. "We're past the Guard's Barriers," Harry muttered, and looked around. "Take off the cloak."

Draco tore off the cloak, and Harry's eyes immediately snapped to him.

"By Merlin's beard, Draco, are you okay?" Harry asked, and frowned in worry. Taking a step closer, he touched Draco's elbow lightly.

Suddenly it was all too real, the air was too thick and Draco couldn't breathe, the world was in Harry's eyes and he was falling all over again –

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, I'm. I'm okay. I'll be fine."

Harry seemed skeptical, but nodded, and took a step back. Before Draco could protest, he raised his wand. A muttered Expecto Patronum followed, and after a short pause, light poured out of Harry's wand.

The air around them was instantly filled with light, brighter than Draco's faint shadow of hope, and everything suddenly seemed so much clearer.

If Draco had thought his patronus looked silvery, then he should have seen Harry's earlier. It shone with a brilliant light, bright and happy and pure, and it pooled around their legs like molten gold, where Draco's simply filled the air in faint whips.

It was a fox.

Draco's fox.

Draco inhaled sharply, and his eyes widened. "Harry-" he said, startled, but Harry turned blazing, guilty eyes to him.

"Not now," he said, but Draco could tell that he was begging him, and so he shut his mouth with a snap.

He nodded.

The silence turned thick and slow, after that. Draco was breathing through his nose in short, sharp breaths, determined to stay calm.

What did that mean? Was Harry – was Harry in love with him?

But, no… that couldn't be true. Could it? His patronus was Draco's fox –

or is it mine?

Oh. Oh, Merlin, Draco was stupid. It wasn't Draco's fox – it was Harry's. Which meant that Harry – Harry knew. He'd known in nearly two weeks already. Oh, Merlin.

"Right," Harry whispered, and Draco was snapped back to reality. "I think I know which part of this hellhole Sirius is located."

Draco, who'd gone terribly pale, nodded his head. He couldn't make himself look at the faint patronus made of moonlight. Traitor, he thought, and knew it was a lie. "Where?" he croaked, before swallowing thickly and licking his lips.

Harry flinched away from his voice, before he shook his head and squared his shoulders. "I've looked at some maps of the inside of Azkaban, and – well, just turn right here, up a flight of stairs, and we should be in the section he's in.

Before Draco had the time to answer, Harry opened his mouth and breathed in deeply. "Auror," he hissed, and with a snap of his wand the silver fox flickered out of existence. Draco hurried to rein in his magic as well, and a moment later, he pulled the invisibility cloak over his head.

And it was just in time, too, as a wisp of milk-like mist rounded the corner. A scrawny-looking girl followed right after the hare, a sharp and determined look on her dark features. The heels of her boots clicked with each step she took, and Draco closed his eyes.

She'd find them out. She'd see his shoes, or stumble in Harry, or something equally as ridiculous. Her patronus would smell him.

There were black spots in front of his eyes, and he was bleeding out on the floor in a bathroom during his sixth year.

A Dementor would pass by and suck out his soul. Something would happen to Harry.

Now he couldn't breathe properly, and there was a Dark Mark on his arm and Father was saying I'm proud, son, and Mother was crying softly.

The both of them would die. Oh Merlin.

Then there was a bright light, and Draco gasped after air as the black spots faded away as fast as they'd come. Tears prickled in his eyes, and with a hasty movement, he dried them away before they could be spotted. "Draco," Harry whispered, worry tainting his voice, and his dull footsteps came closer. "Draco, are you okay?"

"Yup," Draco chirped as he pulled himself to his feet. "Very. Super."

Harry was frowning at him, but Draco didn't care. He shook his head and pulled out his wand, casting a quick Expecto Patronum. The fox returned, casting him a doubtful as if telling him to sit down and relax.

"Which way was it? Left?"

Harry sighed softly. "No," he muttered. "Right. And a flight of stairs."

"Right. I knew that."

"Sure."

Draco stood off to the side, in the shadows that creeped up the walls like vines, and listened to Harry waking up Black.

"Sirius," he hissed, attempting to shake the metal bars. "Sirius!"

Within the darkness of the cell came a muttered groan, and the sound of rustling cloth. "Oo's there?"

"Sirius, it's me," Harry whispered urgently, desperation and freedom and hope in his voice. "Harry! Your Godson!"

Draco thanked the gods that most of the other inmates were either sleeping, dead, or too mad to understand what was going on, as Black made quite a racket.

"-Harry? You're alive? By Merlin – by Merlin's beard." Some peculiar noises came from inside the cell, and then a dirty and grimy face peered out at Harry through the bars. "Boy, you've grown! Last time I saw you, you were a baby!"

"Yes, I know," Harry rushed. "We're here to rescue you."

Black lit up, his hands reached out to hold the bars in a tight grip. "Did Dumbledore send you?"

Even though Draco could only see Harry's back, he knew that his expression must have darkened. "No," Harry muttered. "He did not."

"Then – who did? How old are you, why are you here alone? Is someone from the Order right around the corner?" Black asked, and his fingers trembled as he slowly stuck a hand through the bars to caress Harry's cheek.

Draco forced himself to keep still as what seemed more like claws than nails touched Harry's skin. This wasn't about him.

"No one but myself, Sirius," Harry whispered. "I – eleven. I'm eleven. There's no one but Draco standing around the corner, and can we please stop talking about this so we can get you out?"

Black stilled. "Draco?" he said. "Which Draco?"

Harry turned towards where Draco stood. Their gazes locked through the darkness. Slowly, Draco inclined his head, before he took a step forward.

With slow, steady steps – faked, absolutely faked, Draco felt like he was about to fall apart – Draco made his way over to the cell. His heart beat loudly in his chest, nearly deafening the hurried mutters from the woman in the cell opposite of Black's.

"Oh Merlin," Black breathed, when he laid eyes upon Draco. "Why is the Malfoy scion here?"

Harry hissed. "He's my friend, Sirius. We have time to discuss this later, just – transform and get out of here! Do something!"

Black looked from Harry to Draco and back again, before he gave a short nod. "I'll see what I can do."

After some effort on Black's part, the duo became a stumbling trio. Harry walked as a human beside them, to help support Black – who seemed to be near fainting – and also to keep his patronus running.

"I'm sorry," Draco said, and refused to look when Harry turned his face towards him.

"For what?"

Black said nothing, perhaps sensing that this wasn't the time to act stupid. Or maybe he was just tired. Either way, Draco was grateful. "For not being more helping," he said. "The Dementors affect me greatly. I would've done more, if I could, but – I can't, Harry, I'm sorry!"

"Draco," Harry said, softly, and Draco felt his gaze prickle his cheeks as if it was made of a thousand knives. "Do you really believe that I'm not affected, either?"

"Yes," Draco bit out, before sighing. "Of course I do. Look at your patronus, come on! It's shining like the moon! Mine is just a faint whisper of something beautiful." Mine is just a faint whisper of you.

First now did Black notice that their patronuses were the exact same animal, and he stumbled. He didn't say anything, though, and Draco didn't feel bad for being relieved.

Harry sighed. "Seven years of war can make anyone good at faking it, Draco," he whispered. "I've faked being happy in horrible conditions before. You're doing great for a first timer."

Draco screwed his eyes shut. "If you say so," he muttered. "But -"

"Guard," Black interrupted him. "Right around the corner."

Harry froze. "Shit," he muttered. "We don't have time - !"

Draco let go of Black's arm, took a step in front of him and whipped out his wand. Harry followed right after, and Black transformed into a gangly and tired-looking dog.

The Auror, a man of maybe forty years, rounded the corner and froze on the spot. "What are you kids doing here?" he asked, and then he noticed the wands pointed at him. Before he had the time to find his own, though, a pair of stupefies hit him square in the chest.

Draco lowered his own wand and watched in silence as Harry conjured some rope and tied up the Auror.

"Uh," said Harry, and took a step back. "I don't. I can't perform the Oblivious."

Clearing his throat, Draco walked over to him with a small nod. "Let me," he muttered. "Oblivio."

"You're not supposed to know that," Black breathed. "Any of it." Draco and Harry turned around to face him, only to find him backing off hastily. "Who are you?"

"Sirius," Harry said, and took a desperate step forward. There was a pained glint in his eyes. "Padfoot. I promise you we're us."

Black frowned, and stumbled another step backward.

"Hey, doggo," Draco said. "Just come with us. Anywhere's better than here, right? We'll explain everything later."

The air around them turned even colder than before, and Black shot a look over his shoulder. "Hurry," he hissed, and stumbled onward in the hallway. "The Dementors are coming."

Come on, Draco thought, but hurried after the man. Harry followed closely.

They walked in silence, retracing the duo's former footsteps. When they neared the trip of stairs again, Harry suddenly froze. He opened his mouth and inhaled deeply, before cursing softly. "Auror," he warned.

Black turned his head ever so slightly, and Draco saw the shadow of a canine ear twitching. "Shit," Black whispered, and transformed, at once, into the black dog from before.

Harry readied his wand, as did Draco, just as the clicking footsteps of someone walking neared the trio.

It was another woman, but she seemed to be more intelligent than the other two Aurors, as, the instant she saw them, she whipped out her wand, narrowed her eyes, and mouthed 'polyjuice potion'.

"Stupefy," Harry said, calmly, but the woman already had a shield up.

"Who are you?" she snarled, just as she snapped her wand in a sharp motion. A purple beam shot towards them. Capable of wordless casting, then.

"You got us," Draco sighed, ducking out of the way of the maybe-curse. "We're Death Eaters."

"Yup," Harry added. "Expelliarmus! Very dangerous. You should restrain us." The woman sneered, but gave no reply other than that, and Harry sighed. "Pity," he offered. "Voldemort was far more interesting to fight than you."

The woman very nearly fell over, and Black gave a loud yelp of shock. Draco, who already knew this, used the opportunity to run towards the woman before casting diffindo. She dodged, but just barely, and the cloth covering her upper arm split to reveal a thin, red line in her flesh.

"You speak in riddles," she whispered harshly. "Surrender!"

Harry laughed, and for one, terrifying moment, Draco heard the Dark Lord in his voice. "Never!" Harry cried, and – "Sectumsempra!"

The woman must have seen the horror on Draco's face, for she dropped to the floor to dodge. Draco wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

She shot up from the floor the next moment. "Reducto!" she yelled, and it was aimed towards Harry. Draco turned, and there was a moment where his heart stopped because what if it hit what if Harry let it hit what if what if what if, and Harry dodged the shot, but before Draco could taste relief in his mouth the wall collapsed –

and took part of the floor with it.

Harry fell.

"No!" Draco screamed, and he wanted to cry and he wanted to laugh and he wanted to fucking murder that goddamned Auror how could she do this to him – "Oblivio!" he yelled, and barely had the time to watch the spell hit the occupied woman, successfully throwing her back into the wall behind her. "Black! Restrain her!" he ordered, before running over to the hole in the wall.

The harsh wind whipped at his face as he stuck it out over the edge, and in the horizon the gray skies faded into the dark ocean as if they'd always been one. "Harry!" Draco called, but the wind howled around his ears and made it impossible to hear any response. "Harry!" Draco repeated, and he could barely breathe around his heart, which was beating terribly loudly in his throat. "No – Harry!"

Why the fuck did they design Azkaban so that one wouldn't be able to look straight down? For all Draco knew, Harry was splayed out at a plateau just a few meters further down, or he might have smashed against a wall, or he might have drowned already, or he might be alive and hanging on to a rock by a hairs-width.

The floor underneath his feet wobbled, and before Draco had the time to jump backwards, he slipped and stumbled straight out of the hole. "Malfoy!" Black called out from behind and above him, and Draco screamed.

The ocean came closer and then the wind suddenly hit him square in his chest and he moved in the air and then his back hit solid rock, successfully forcing all the air out of his lunges. Draco fell down, hit some more rock, and oh there was no more ground underneath him he was falling again, and someone gripped his wrist.

"Draco!" Harry cried, and Draco opened his eyes again. He was sore all over, his knuckles were bruised and bleeding and there were dark spots dancing in front of his eyes, but he was alive. Harry was kneeling on a small plateau, one hand gripping the edge and one holding Draco's arm. His dark hair whipped around his ears, framing his pale face in an upside down halo. There was fear in his eyes.

Draco twisted his hand to grasp Harry's arm tight. "You're alive," he whispered, and relief poured into his words.

Harry let out something that was in the middle of a sob and a choke and a snort. "You won't be for very much longer, unless you do something," he hissed, and pulled harshly at Draco's arm. "Merlin, you're heavy!"

Draco waved his other arm around, before his fingers smacked into the cold rock. With a mighty heave, both from Draco and Harry, and some kicking, Draco managed to crawl onto the plateau. "Oh Jesus fucking Christ," Harry breathed, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He pressed his forehead into the nook of Draco's neck, and Draco couldn't care less about whether his love was unrequited or not because at least they were both alive and healthy.

"I thought you died," Draco whispered.

"I thought you were going to die," Harry offered.

"I didn't. Thanks."

"Harry! Malfoy? Can you hear me?"

Harry pulled back from Draco to stand up on wobbly legs. "Sirius!" he cried, and his eyes shone like the moon a hot summer night. "We're down here! Conjure a rope or something!"

"No, wait!" Draco interrupted. "Just call for the Thestrals, Harry!"

"Genius," Harry said. "Nevermind, Sirius! We'll get to you!" He whistled, but it wasn't the short, sharp whistle of no tune. It gave Draco goosebumps – but then again, that might have been from the cold and the wind tearing through his clothes and his skin and his very bones.

Something screamed in the distance, and then there was a hollow sound of leathery wings flapping, and two thestrals flew into their vision. They hovered in front of Harry, who backed into the wall before leaping onto the back of the nearest one.

"Come on," he said, and jabbed his chin at Draco.

Breathing deeply, Draco took a step back. It was safe, of course it was safe, Harry wouldn't just let him fall – well, he'd already fallen, but –

Draco jumped, and it only hurt his joints a little bit when he smacked into the thestral's bony back. It neighed and shook its head, but Harry ran his hand over the side of his neck, and it calmed down.

Black was flabbergasted at the two of them doing a rescue on two thestrals, but he didn't complain, and happily climbed onto the back of the other horse-like creature. "To Hogwarts!" Harry yelled, and the two creatures shot off into the night.

The sun was setting. Draco had his arms wrapped around Harry's torso to keep from falling of the thestral, who'd flown up above the red-painted clouds. They reminded him of silk, of cotton, of peace, and he very nearly cried when he lingered on the thought for too long.

"Draco," Harry said, suddenly, and it was the first word he spoke since they'd begun the flight back. "Thank you."

Draco closed his eyes. "For what?"

"For being with me."

"Of course I'm with you."

Harry exhaled shakily. "Even though – even though the whole – Patronus thing?" Draco inhaled sharply, but before he could give an honest reply, Harry blurted out, "I'm sorry, about that, by the way. I – I can't help what I feel."

Draco closed his eyes, again, and pressed his cheek against Harry's shoulder. Warmth seeped through his robes, and he grimaced. I'm sorry I don't love you back, I can't help what I feel, I'm sorry.

"It's fine," Draco whispered. "I – don't think about it. Stuff won't turn awkward, will it?"

"No," Harry said. "Not if I can have any say in it."

Draco smiled, despite of the pain that ate up his chest and his heart and his soul. "Good," he said, and knew that deep down, he wished –

but knew it was futile.

A/N: what's up bitches it's dECEMBER I'M BAACK

uh, yeah, okay. So. If this feels a bit rushed, then it's because it iS HAHAHAAAA I'm sorry. Comments are very welcome, as are suggestions!

Also - we're actually nearing the current end of this story. Maybe I'll mix up something later, who knows.