A/N: One more! This is going to be very angsty, just warning you now…. Hermione and Ron will be your fluff reprieve. Love to all of you. There's going to be a short, short epilogue after this, and then this will be done!

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Draco sat up when the spell he'd set as his alarm started blaring into his ear. He'd put it as Pansy's grating voice, so with a start he was up and practically falling on the floor. It was wintry-dark outside, and the light was dim inside the room, but as he felt a knee in his back, he turned around, seeing Harry Potter curled up with his arm dropped in front of him, sleep-rumpled and snoring softy. Without his glasses he looked surprisingly vulnerable, and Draco had to work to suppress his sudden impulse to ki-

Draco shook his head, standing up and stalking into the bathroom, anger bubbling to the surface. How dare Harry do this to him! He was doing fine- he didn't need anybody to help him- he'd survived on his own for all that time! He didn't need Harry to come and- and sleep with him! Like it wasn't hard enough suppressing himself on a day-to-day basis, honestly. The shower was too cold at first, but he stepped in anyway, letting the cold shock him to life as he waited for the warm water to arrive.

The last thing Draco wanted was to want Harry more than he already did, because then he'd end up too close. After Hogwarts, he had no future- he strongly suspected that by now his father had disowned him, and he hadn't really ever trained to do much other than fly and laze through school, because- he only realized it now- his future had been becoming a hired goon, life indebted to the Dark Lord. As it was, he was barely hanging on. He didn't need Harry to come around and unhinge him now.

By the time that he was done in the shower, it was just barely time for breakfast. As he walked out straightening his tie, he was accosted by a pair of warm hands.

"Was waiting for you to come out-" gasped Harry, dashing into the bathroom and slamming the door. A few seconds later there was a soft, relieved sigh, and Draco shook his head. How could he possibly like this buffoon?

Draco gave the bathroom door a burning cursory glance and strode out the door of the red room.

Hermione wasn't waiting for him at the doors of the Great Hall as she usually did. He smiled a little to himself, slipping in the huge doors and glancing immediately at the place that she always sat- and there was a red head, sitting next to her. They were staringn(well, the polite term was 'gazing) at each other, hands clasped under the table, and Draco smiled at the fact that Ron was probably marveling over Hermione's soft skin, just as he had done. He hesitated- was he still welcome?

Hermione glanced around as she got another bite of waffle and caught his eye.

'Come over' said her beckoning hand, and Draco nodded, weaving between bodies until he made it to the Gryffindor table. He sat opposite the couple as they held hands. Ron raised a hand, staring with a small amount of trepidation at the Slytherin, but going to shake his hand nonetheless.

"Hey- thanks," he said, and his eyes held something. Draco cast a glance at Hermione, and replied, "it was my pleasure."

He'd lost his appetite in his slow-icy rage at Harry and so he simply fiddled with his food until the subject of his affection came bounding into the Hall, sliding into a place next to Draco and starting to eat without pausing as Professor McGonnagall swept over the Gryffindor table, handing out schedules.

She paused as she looked at Draco.

"Professor Snape told me to give you this," she said, her voice sharp as she handed over his schedule and a piece of parchment, "And he said that he hopes you know what you're doing."

She slid Harry's paper under his plate and was off down the rest of the table. Draco pushed the parchment inside his robes and into his waistband. Harry shot him a look which he pretended not to notice, and then it was time to go to class. Draco raced out of the Hall. As he strode to his first class, Herbology, he tried to figure out why he was so angry, He'd gotten what he wanted, right? Hermione was happy, he was closer to Harry- it was all exactly as he'd planned.

Except he hadn't planned on letting them in so much. He hadn't planned on making them vital to him. He had most certainly not planned on destroying his whole being in the search for love. And that, he concluded, was what was the matter- he was no longer the self he had been. Draco wasn't sure if he was pleased or disturbed, so he distracted himself as he passed into stifling heat. Fertilizer washed over him, and he sighed. Herbology was his least favorite subject.

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Harry hastily congratulated his friends as he wolfed down the last of his breakfast, snagging a piece of toast just as the tray disappeared down into the kitchens. Ron smiled, standing up and walking down the side of the table with his girlfriend holding his hand. When they reached the end of the table, Ron studied him, and reached out a hand.

"No hard feelings, then?" he asked, with trepidation, as if he expected Harry to hex him. Harry was secretly elated. Not only had Ron and Hermione finally gotten together, but Ron had accepted Draco as part of their group, and Hermione looked deliriously happy. Harry forewent the manly handshake and went for the manly tackle-hug.

It was good to have Ron back.

They all walked to History of Magic together, laughing and catching up on what had happened over the last four months. Ron and Hermione didn't lose contact with the other once. Harry, walking next to the two, felt a keen pang of yearning. Why couldn't he have something like that?

Unwillingly a pale face in the morning flashed into his head, and he shook it slightly, dislodging the image to catch up with Hermione and Ron.

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Draco strode out over the grounds, completely alone. It was the middle of Herbology, but he was past the point of caring- he needed to take an outside look at himself, he needed some fresh air- he needed a break from this life. The cold tore through him. He was glad. He wanted the ice outside to cool his heart.

He'd always been so sure of himself, of his words, of who and what he needed. He'd always done everything the same way. He'd never cried, not once, in front of other people. He'd had a family, however dysfunctional. He'd not needed his friends. He had been enough.

Draco turned abruptly left, walking out to the lake. Listlessly he walked by the shore, crunching ice beneath his feet. It was grey out today. The clouds were becoming thick and impenetrable. It was freezing, and it was the sort of day Draco's mother used to call a 'dementor day', scaring him to stay inside where she could see him. Today he was scared of nothing but himself and his feelings. The dementors had no effect on the demented.

Draco had a sudden urge to walk on ice. He tested his weight on the ice just at the shore. Then farther, then farther.

He'd never felt this way before, this unbalanced, this flawed. He was incredibly frustrated with himself. Why couldn't he have been just what he was? Why did he have to talk to Hermione? Why had he made any of this happen? For yes, he loved Hermione, and he loved Harry, and he was sure with time, he'd grow to love Ron as well. But why did love have to come at such a massive price?

He sat down on the ice, not expecting it to crack. It'd hold his weight.

Draco let his head fall back so he was staring at the dementor day, and almost brought himself to regret love.

He didn't know how long he sat there, staring. At one point he laid down, spread-eagled on the ice, not feeling the cold that crept through him. As he grew colder, his frustrations and wants and fears seemed to melt away. Out here there was no Harry Potter to elicit some reaction from him, and there was no Hermione to share all his feelings with. There was no Ron to remind him of why he'd gotten into this mess. There were no sneering Slytherins. He felt no sense of failure in the cold.

There came footsteps on the ice.

"Draco, what are you doing out here?"

Warm hands hoisted him up, supporting his head like he was a small child.

"Ron, come help me, he's frozen! Draco, what on earth did you do this for?"

He said nothing. He wasn't feeling anything for the first time in four months, and it felt good.

He was hoisted up and into a pair of arms, carrying him like a baby off the ice and through the snow. Voices chattered loudly, animatedly. Draco closed his eyes, blocking out the world, just for a few minutes. Just two more minutes and he could deal again.

As the darkening clouds disappeared from view, and the lights of the castle started to appear, the talking grew louder, probably directed at him. He slowly let himself come back and identify the voices.

"-want to go to the Hospital Wing?" finished Hermione. She sounded to be behind whoever was carrying him. He shook his head, just slightly, feeling the snow in his hair melting and trickling down into his robes.

"Where d'you want to go then?" asked Ron surprisingly gently. Draco stirred a little in the arms of- someone and whispered something unintelligible.

"What?"

"Let me down. I'm fine."

His body was warming up again, and so was his heart. As he entered the walls of Hogwarts again, all his questions were answered for him by the mere presence of his friends. Why did love have to come at the cost of your family, your House, and sometimes even yourself?

Because it was worth it.

As his feet touched the stone floors of Hogwarts, one thought was flashing through his mind again and again- more of a montage, really- Hermione holding him as he shuddered and cried under the willow tree – Harry's fingers on the scars on his back- an owl flying to his window over Christmas Break- Ron shaking his hand at breakfast- Harry. Harry holding him to warm him up, keeping an arm around him even now. All those concerned eyes. Draco paused and smiled.

Then he launched himself at Hermione, grasping her in a tight hug, practically burying the smaller girl but giving her room to breathe. She started laughing into the fabric of his robes, and as his heart swelled and warmed and grew, Draco further realized another thing.

Love was worth it, because love embodied what he had lost.

So as he walked to dinner with Harry, Ron and Hermione, he knew he was home.

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This took me most of today to write, and I'm still not totally pleased with it, but it was necessary for the next chapter to commence. The next chapter is the dance, and it's going to be pretty durn fluffy so…. Yeah. As always, reviews are love, and I love all of you. Thanks for sticking with me~