Hello everyone! I have not died (or worse abandonned this). I am finding that my update weekly schedule was a tad optimisitc on my end, both with wanting to write longer chapters in this story then previous ones, and my increasing my shifts for work. So I am renagging. I will likely try to have a chapter up twice a month (more if inspired or get into it). I am also dividing my writing time between this story and one I have not yet posted (will be a merlin-hp crossover). But enough of my yammering.

Heres the next chapter let me know what you think (more smut and fluffyness as ordered!)

-oo-

Chapter 8: Everybody Talks

-oo-

It started with a whisper
And that was when I kissed her

Everybody talks, everybody talks
Everybody talks too much

-00-

Harry awoke with a start to the sound of a loud crack. Once he had managed to fumble his way up and out of his warm bed—winning a touch a go battle against his tangled sheets, he realized that the crack was actually his house elf; Kreacher. "Yes?" he asked blearily wondering what could possibly cause the damn thing to interrupt his lovely lie in.

"Master Harry has a lot of post" Kreacher answered nodding emphatically as if to give emphasis to the fact.

The statement made the desire to return to bed and ignore the world even stronger but the wizard stoically pushed said desire away and stumbled his way to his wardrobe haphazardly grabbing the first things he could find. "Ok….you've sorted them and removed any with curses?" Harry asked as he shoved his legs into the jeans he was holding.

"Yes Master Harry, theys sorted and waiting….I made yous breakfast as well…Master Harry's menace is up and waiting as well" Kreacher dutifully reported, his little wrinkled face becoming more so as he grimaced at the mention of Sebastian.

Harry sighed giving up trying to get Kreacher to be nice to Sebastian as a lost cause; the house elf could be more obstinate then Hermione and her homework schedule—when…no, if the house elf ever decided that he liked Sebastian after all, it would have to be on his own terms.

"Ok, Thank you Kreacher" Harry dismissed dragging himself down the stairs and towards the kitchen where he was sure that both the post and Sebastian were waiting for him. Neither was something that he was feeling particularly up to dealing with first thing in the morning….and after the spectacle he and Sebastian had made last night he had a fair feeling on what all the post was about.

Walking trepidatiously into the kitchen he found a smile trying to come out when Sebastian silently handed him a large mug of steaming tea—he was hoping that it was one that Sebastian had prepared as Kreacher's culinary skills were still a tad touch and go. Thankfully, whoever had made the tea seemed to have done an adequate job and Harry spent the next few minutes trying to drown himself in the steaming fragrant liquid.

Deciding that he had postponed enough, Harry set the mug down and took a seat at the end of the table where most of the mail seemed to be situated. "Morning" he greeted Sebastian while starting to peruse and separate the pile further.

"Good morning" Sebastian replied sounding somewhat unsure and awkward with the pleasantry (back at Dalton most mornings they either completely ignored each other or sent colorful curses back and forth).

Silence reigned for the next few minutes and Harry had just finished dividing the howlers from the pile (which he had promptly set on fire) when Sebastian finally asked the question he had likely been sitting on since seeing the piles of envelopes, "What is all this?"

Harry paused a moment to send his a wry smile, "Why it's the public's reaction to the paparazzi bomb we dropped last night of course…honestly I was actually expecting a lot more Howlers—though I suppose Kreacher got rid of the real nasty ones…so maybe that's it…" Harry trailed off.

"Howlers?" Sebastian asked again glancing surreptitiously at the still smoking ashes on the table.

"Er…yeah, they're like complaints but they explode and yell at you if you don't open them right away—though I prefer just torching the whole bunch of them" Harry answered leafing through the letters at random. In the past he would have just torched the entire pile of mail, but after several lectures from Hermione he now forced himself to read at least a few so that he would have at least an inkling as to where public opinion was at the moment. He suppose it was better than getting ambushed by pitch fork raising citizens…not that he would ever admit that to Hermione.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow glancing once again at the teetering piles, "does that happen a lot?" he asked warily.

Harry sighed pausing to gulp another swig of tea before answering, "Yeah….unfortunately. They seem to believe that everything I do or say is for them to admire or criticize….and most prefer to tell me their opinions via post."

Sebastian rubbed a hand through his hair demonstrating his mostly hidden agitation at the news as he glanced once again at the former Howler pile and asked quietly, "is it worth it then?"

Harry looked at him in confusion, "is what worth it?"

Another agitated swipe and Sebastian pushed his chair back taking to pacing back and forth, "us. Are we worth it? wouldn't it have been better—easier just to lie about who I was? Sweep it under the rug until you can break the bond…go back to your normal life of brooms and wands and…"

Harry cut him off as he started to ramble, "did you want me to lie?" he asked feeling confused and a little disappointed. He knew that he had once again jumped so soon, after all they had just started to get along again so of course he shouldn't have expected anything more than a temporary truce from Sebastian.

"No!" Sebastian all but yelled before pausing his pacing to collect himself, "I mean…no, I didn't want you to lie. It's just…wouldn't it have been easier for you? Then you wouldn't be getting hate mail over it….I-I guess I just don't really understand any of this. Your life, your world….it's like a giant kaleidoscope….every time I think I get it—something happens and I realize I actually have no clue to what's happening" the brunette finished in a frustrated tone.

The first thing Harry felt was relief…relief at the fact that at least Sebastian wasn't saying he hadn't wanted Harry to say anything because he was planning on leaving as soon as he could break the bond, the next feeling was guilt. Guilt at forgetting how overwhelming this all had to be to his bond mate. Not that there was a ton that he could do about that; the wizarding world was confusing and beguiling no matter how you approached it…but perhaps he could give Sebastian some reassurance—at least over the current mess.

"Yes it's worth it. I have found in the past that the press and public can be horribly fickle, but they also have a short attention span. This will be their cannon fodder for a few days until something better and juicer comes along. Plus it's not just bad responses that I have received….there is a lot of letters from squibs and others who have felt ostracized by the main community because of their lack of magic or bonding to someone that popular opinion deems is wrong. They are thankful that we aren't hiding the fact that you are a squib as though it is something to be ashamed of. Which it's not" Harry said giving emphasis to the last part before continuing, "I would say I have received just as many letters about that or something similar as I did howlers."

There was a long pause of silence following Harry's rather impassioned speech (it seemed as though a few months away from England had turned him into a man of words—fancy that. He was sure Dalton put something in the water…) before Sebastian nodded, though it still looked like something was bothering him. A moment later the brunette gave voice to that something.

"And your friends and family? If they feel the same way as the majority?" he asked. His question caused Harry pause, not because he was feeling any regret for his defense of Sebastian last night or even because his words this morning were in anyway false—but simply because he had actually not given any thought to what those who actually knew him might think of the whole thing.

And wasn't that a strange thought?—not that he normally stopped to consider the consequence of his actions before he acted, but normally he would have at least (even if subconsciously) considered how and if they would affect his friends and surrogate family. This time his only thought had been how it was affecting his and Sebastian's relationship and by extension Sebastian himself. Harry paused at that realization; did that mean that he now considered Sebastian at least a friend, if not family? While deep down he had known that his relationship with the American had and was changing—it still startled him to consciously recognize the fact.

And if there was one thing that hadn't changed about Harry despite the war and his actions in it, it was the fierce protectiveness—even possessiveness he felt in regards to those he considered friends and family. If he were to be truthful, he had a feeling that both of the aforementioned emotions would be even stronger where Sebastian was regarded.

"It makes no difference….my decisions and choices are my own. Besides I would hope that my friends and family would, if not agree with my decisions at least support the fact that it is mine—and yours to make" Harry added the last bit as an afterthought, though he realized he should have said it much early then now.

He did not want to force Sebastian's own choice; regardless what his bonded decided Harry would not regret his stance...but he would never force Sebastian to stay if after all this, it was too much for him—or as loathe as Harry was to think it, if it still remained only a temporary thing to Sebastian. Harry would support Sebastian's choice either way. Besides, he had long since tired of the hypocritical and two faced ways of his 'adoring' public—time away had only reinforced that fact. Regardless of how this would all play out in the end he couldn't bring himself to regret shoving their continued bigotry back in their faces.

Harry was sure he saw something akin to relief flutter across Sebastian's features but it was gone as quickly as it appeared, leaving only the familiar haughty sneer on the warblers face as Sebastian moved to place his own coffee cup in the sink just behind where Harry was now standing (and where on earth had Kreacher disappeared to? Perhaps the crazy elf was finally learning a sense of decorum and was giving them a bit of privacy for this conversation. Though Harry suspected that the elves absence had little to do with any sense of decency and was much more likely to the senile thing's obsession of polishing one of Regulus's old brass buttons they had found when refurbishing the place—apparently the late favorite had a secret hobby of collecting buttons; Harry had always known the Black family was rife with insanity).

"Still, I am sure that the Weasley's and the rest would prefer that you end up with someone more appropriate—like say Ginevra. I know the little harpy would love to get her horribly manicured nails into you" Sebastian said in an offhand manner that was belied by the stiffness in his shoulders (and what was it about Harry falling for pretentious asses? First Draco….now Sebastian….)

Harry sighed both irritated and tired of this circular conversation….it looked as though words were not going to get his point across. Well, if words wouldn't perhaps something Sebastian had a better understanding of would? With that thought in mind Harry once again acted impulsively.

Taking a long stride towards where Sebastian was standing his back to Harry, facing the sink, Harry placed a firm hand on the brunettes stiff shoulders and spun Sebastian around, quickly pressing his own much slighter frame up against Sebastian's lacrosse sculpted one.

He didn't pause at Sebastian's intake of surprise, reaching up his one hand entwining in Sebastian's sleep ruffled hair, the other at the back of Sebastian's neck to pull his bonded's shocked mouth to his own.

Well, maybe Dalton's water hadn't corrupted him entirely yet—he had always thought there were much better ways to use his mouth then to give sound to grandiose and verbose spiels.

And kissing Sebastian was definitely one of those ways

-0-

As he felt the firm, slightly chapped lips press against his own Sebastian was ashamed to admit that he froze for a moment. Though to be fair he hadn't exactly been expected Harry kissing him to be the resolution to their conversation….not that he was complaining or anything; it was after all a much better ending to the conversation then the one Sebastian had pictured.

In truth, Sebastian had been slightly confused after the events of last night. No one…and he literally meant no one, had ever defended him so openly and passionately as Harry had, especially given it had happened in front of all those people—people who Sebastian was led to believe were rather high up in the wizarding world.

The entire event had left him feeling rather out of sorts and befuddled by his bonded. Because while the words he had spoken to Harry were true; he was feeling rather confused and out of place in this place Harry had grown to call home—that was not really what was leaving Sebastian so confounded. No…the honor of that largely fell to Harry, his ridiculous, confusing, hot headed—nonsensical husband.

He could not quite wrap his head around the fact that Harry was defending their bond and Sebastian's place by his side when until rather recently their bond had basically been something that was chaining Harry to Sebastian. Even with their newly amicable ways, Sebastian had been sure that Harry was only putting up with it long enough to escape the damn thing….so really his defense of Sebastian simply confused the brunette. However given time to think the matter over (aka: staying awake most of the night pacing) Sebastian had decided that Harry was most likely trying to make their union come off as un-embarrassingly as possible—that the wizard had decided to make it seem as though it was something that he wanted, at least while he was forced to endure it. Which was what had led to Sebastian's re-questioning of the matter this morning.

He could see and even understand Harry lying to the press and his public (as Sebastian got the distinct feeling that Harry really had no love for either) but he had assumed that the wizard would not continue with the charade in front of his family and friends….and that thought had left him feeling oddly hollow and out of sorts: not something that Sebastian had expected or wanted at all. So he had asked—the mail arrival was really just something to blame his insecurities on, as he was a Symthe and a Symthe never allowed himself to expose his weaknesses.

And secretly hoping—no needing Harry to come prove Sebastian's conclusions false was certainly a weakness.

But instead of doing what Sebastian had expected and admitting that it had all been for show, Harry had once again adamantly defended their bond and his commitment to it—and then before Sebastian could come up with a reason as to why Harry would continue to pretend when it was just them (and probably that damn elf who seemed to take particular pleasure in popping out and startling the life out of him—sadistic little sod it was), the wizard had done this….

And oh my; this was a course of action that Sebastian could definitely get behind. So instead of continuing with his protests and doubt laden questions, Sebastian responded in kind. And by in kind he meant he found his own hands gripping the slim wizard's hips and pulling them to his own, eliciting a guttural moan from both of them.

He felt a surge of need spike as he pushed his tongue into Harry's mouth relishing as the wizard relented and allowed him to take control of the kiss, rolling his hips so that the evidence of their corresponding need brushed—causing Harry to tighten his own, almost painful grip of Sebastian's hair.

His body singing with desire, Sebastian let out a frustrated growl as he realized that the action was not enough—not nearly enough of Harry to satisfy him. Moving his hands so that he had a firm grip on Harry's ass he lifted the wizard up forcing Harry to wrap his toned legs around Sebastian's hips, if the smaller male didn't want to lose his balance. Not that Harry seemed to mind as he rolled his hips again, more decisively and gave Sebastian a wicked smirk when the brunette almost stumbled at the action.

"Fuck" Sebastian hissed, diving back into a rather brutal kiss—this one much more reminiscent of the one they exchanged weeks ago; all teeth and tongue.

"Not here" Harry managed to gasp in reply when they came up for air. It took Sebastian all of three seconds to comprehend what Harry was agreeing to and when he did, he wasted little time in walking them both towards the sitting room and couch.

All but falling onto the old divan (which in the back of his head he had to admit was much more comfortable then it appeared—of course that might have had something to do with the fact that he was laying on top of Harry and not the stiff blood red fabric) their movement's became almost frantic. Having already pulled off his own shirt (thankfully he had opted for a tee-shirt and not a button up this morning) Sebastian set to work on displacing Harry of his own shirt, wasting no time in kissing, biting and licking the pale skin that was revealed.

Sebastian was once again struck by just how….well, beautiful Harry was. Not that he would ever tell Harry this, as he was pretty sure that his bonded would skin him alive for describing him by such an adjective. But it was true-while not the conventional-ropey muscle and bulky strength kind of handsome that defined many of Sebastian's conquests, Harry had something almost ethereal about him. Slim, wiry muscles, pale smooth skin, made even more so by his dark wild hair and utterly unique eyes…he seemed almost untouchable.

Not that, that was going to stop Sebastian; he had every intention of touching and marking Harry as his. The raw possessiveness of his thoughts as he looked down had the half lidded boy in front of him shocked him, but in that moment he couldn't help it—this boy, no man was his. And he would be damned if he let him go—no matter the cost.

"Sebastian" the pleading, needy groan from Harry jolted Sebastian back to the present and what he was doing, causing him to fumble slightly with the button on Harry's jeans. Getting the infuriating button open Sebastian slipped his hand inside and underneath Harry's dark blue boxers, taking him firmly in hand. He watched satisfied as Harry's breathing grew harsher and his eye lashed fluttered.

After a few seconds Harry seemed to almost force his green eyes open and reach haphazardly for Sebastian, intending to mirror his actions. Sebastian felt like there was small sparks of electricity coming off their skin, electrifying and magnifying every action and reaction between them. Never before—not even his most wild and satisfying nights, had Sebastian felt like this…and over something as simple and juvenile as a hand job.

It didn't take long before he felt the tell-tale tightening in his lower abdomen and he couldn't even bring himself to feel embarrassed over how quickly he had come—of course it helped that Harry came seconds after he did. Before they lay there exhausted, their limbs slightly entwined drifting lazily down from their post orgasm highs.

Sebastian blinked in surprise when he felt a cool tingling and the sudden absence of stickiness but he couldn't bring himself to comment on it, simply rolling slightly to the side so that he was beside Harry and not crushing him underneath him. Harry gave a contented sleepy sounding hum as Sebastian shifted him so that the wizard had his back to Sebastian's chest.

Just before drifting off, Sebastian decided that maybe, just maybe insecurities were not such horrible things after all.

-00-

Harry didn't even try to hide the embarrassed flush to his face. Because really, what was the point?

He was pretty sure given the circumstances no one could blame him for feeling a tad mortified; .why, oh why had he and Sebastian decided to molest each other and then fall asleep in the sitting room again? As in the same sitting room that had the only flo connection to Grimmauld place? Yeah, probably not one of the best plans he'd ever had—then again it seemed like most of his plans were a tad idiotic…hmm that should be telling…..

He shook his head to get rid of his current line of thinking…it wasn't the time for it, before turning back towards the merrily dancing green flames that was currently playing host to Malfoy's blond head. Not even five minutes ago he had been rousted from a most satisfying slumber (one in which he had been partially—okay mostly draped across Sebastian's naked chest) by the tell tale whoosh of someone flo calling him.

And wasn't it typical that today of all days was the one time that Harry had forgotten to block the damn thing?….though if he thought about it, he was pretty sure he had blocked it last night—he wondered briefly if this was Kreacher's way of getting back at him for making the vindictive elf be polite to Sebastian (well, as polite as it was possible for Kreacher…and most likely only in Harry's direct company, as he was sure Kreacher was ingenious enough to find a way around his direct orders when Harry wasn't there to stop him). Ah well, not like he could do anything about it now…he might as well face the music…and by music he meant Draco's smug, smirking, annoying face.

Sebastian, the traitor had somehow managed not to blush the color of an overripe tomato and had made some vague (Harry was sure: entirely false) excuse about having promised a son of his father's friend a visit while he was over here and had promptly vanished upstairs. Tossing another vague "be back later" over his shoulder as he scurried away…leaving Harry entirely excuseless and defenseless to Malfoy's machinations.

Machinations, which turned out to be a rather insistent invitation to go out for lunch with the blond menace. Merlin, he was never going to get through a lunch with his pride intact. While it was true that he did not love the blond prat, he was at the very least rather fond of him, it did not meant that he was looking forward to what was likely going to be merciless teasing and uncomfortable questions. Especially if Malfoy was feeling spiteful and vindictive—which from the glint in those steel grey eyes Harry knew he was. Damn Lucius and Astoria for putting Draco into one of his (now much more rare, but still happened on occasion) moods.

And he had no doubt that it was their fault. He had seen Draco briefly the night before and it did not take someone of Heider's* caliber to see that the blond was miserable with his current marital arrangement. Harry was sure that this impromptu lunch was a desperate need to get away from the glacial atmosphere of Malfoy manor for a vent session. Not that Harry could really blame Draco for this—though it would have been nice not to rub salt in an open wound by having Draco catch him and Sebastian in such an awkward position. No doubt it hadn't done anything to help with the blond's mood.

And because Harry was Harry—and he had been born with an inordinately high guilt complex, he of course felt somewhat liable for causing his friend, and one time lover additional hurt. Yeah, rationally he knew it made no sense but then again that was true for most of Harry's 'hero' based impulses. Safe to say Harry agreed to Draco's request (however reluctantly said agreement was in his head).

Forty minutes later he found himself dressed in a pair of clean jeans and a bunny-hug (he may have agreed to go out for lunch, but he would be damned if he wore some uncomfortable suit or worse wizarding robes—he had no doubt that wherever Malfoy chose for lunch that his current wardrobe would stick out like a sore thumb), trailing after Draco as the blond all but bowled his way down the crowded London street. He had to stop himself from gaping when instead of stopping at one of the elite—mile long waiting list places they had passed, they instead stopped at a rather shabby looking ramen noodle shop….this wasn't good; it appeared things were much worse in the Malfoy manor then he had first anticipated. Draco rarely indulged in his rather amusing (but very covert) guilty pleasure of greasy, fried noodles. Yup, not good at all.

Still Harry held his tongue and obediently followed the blond in, sitting down at one of the rather sticky Formica tables and dutifully scanning the equally sticky plastic menu. He continued to hold his tongue as Draco gave both of their orders (of course not consulting Harry on what he actually wanted to order—but no surprise there) to a portly, unenthused waiter…who appeared to also be serving as the cook.

Finally after a long stubborn stretch of silence from Draco, Harry broke and spoke first (it always seemed to be this way…the only reason that Harry was so adept at dealing with Sebastian's mood swings and stubbornness was because he had, had to deal with Draco's. And Malfoy's never did anything by halves, that was for sure). "Are you okay?" He figured he might as well cut through the bull-crap and come right out and ask it. No point on wasting hours flitting around the reason for this meeting (and with Draco it would be hours…the blond could talk about nothing for-literally-ever).

For a moment it looked as though Draco was going to dismiss Harry's question (even though Harry knew that the whole reason for Draco requesting this lunch was because he had wanted Harry to ask it—don't ask him to explain Draco's logic)before his stubborn expression all but crumbled. "no….I-I don't think I can do this Harry!...I thought I could, really, I knew I would have to eventually—I thought I was prepared to deal with this kind of arrangement, but I honestly don't think I can" Draco sounded so desolate and broken that Harry had to fight his impulse to reach out for his friend. Not that he would have denied Draco a comforting touch but he didn't think that either Draco or Sebastian would appreciate it at the moment.

Harry was at a loss as to what he could say or do to help Draco….he couldn't imagine what the blond was going through, hell….he knew that Draco's home life, while completely different from what Harry had experienced with the Dursley's, had been as equally devoid of warmth and affection. Even Narcissa, who Harry had no doubt loved her son dearly, had never been overly affectionate or motherly to Draco. So, to be caught in an equally cold and loveless marriage-well, maybe Harry could understand the last part…or at least he could have a month ago.

"I really thought I knew what to expect, after all I've had front seat show to my parent's marriage for years but it is so different when you are actually one half of the union….honestly Harry, I don't know if Astoria or I have spoken more than two words to each other since the agreement was signed. And we are supposed to get bonded—not a temporary bond, but a permanent one in less than a week? I-I….I just don't know…" Draco trailed off helplessly sighing in a very un-Malfoyish manner. This time Harry couldn't stop himself from reaching out and grasping Draco's pale hand in his own, Draco sent him a strained but grateful smile in return.

Harry did his best to return it before letting go and sighing himself, equal parts frustration and helplessness. "I don't know what to tell you Draco….well, I do but I don't think it's what you want to hear" Harry broke off as the waiter from before approached carrying two massive bowls of what appeared to be noodles (along with some kind of unidentifiable meat mixed in—Harry felt his stomach roll slightly at the sight but pushed the feeling down).

After the bowls were set in front of them and they had each picked at the dishes for a few moments Draco set his chop sticks down, squaring his jaw in a move that Harry recognized as the blond steeling himself. "Well, you might as well just come out and say it….you know you are eventually going to anyway. I'd much rather hear it face to face then a week from now via bloody owl-or worse that poste the muggles use"

Harry forced himself not to smile at Draco's mispronunciation of post—he swore there was something actually wrong with the purebred's brain wiring that made it impossible for them to learn and say muggle words—before deciding to give his advice and let the chips fall where they may. It wasn't as though his advise was earth shattering or incredibly insightful; it was actually rather obvious but Harry knew Draco needed to hear it from another source outside his own instincts, so that was what Harry would do.

"Well…." Harry began cautiously, setting his own eating utensils down (because it wasn't as though he was going to actually eat the food in front of him—he may be a self sacrificing idiot at times but he wasn't suicidal. Although it might be worth it given the irony of the wizarding world losing their vaunted hero to something as muggle and trivial as food poisoning), "You've heard me say this before…but I can say it again. Do you really need to go through with this?" Harry asked.

He held up a hand to silence whatever protest Draco was about to make before continuing, "no, I know—your father expects it…Malfoy honor…blah blah blah" Harry pointedly ignored the more and more affronted look on Draco's face as he continued, "I understand that being a Malfoy is important to you Draco…I do. But at what cost?—is it worth tying yourself to someone who you know will make you miserable for the rest of your life? Is it worth your happiness?...I know that your father still has control of the Malfoy fortune but answer me this truthfully Draco, do you really need it?" Harry paused in his verbal diarrhea, relieved to see that Draco was at least listening to what he was saying- if not agreeing.

"You are not useless Draco….you have plenty of marketable skills outside your family name that you could build on. I know I have no right to tell you what you should do, or even pretend I would do the same in your position…but you do have options. Jus-Just think about them….okay?" he added the last bit quietly, praying that Draco wasn't about to erupt and curse him into a bloody pulp. Really it could go either way, Draco had always had just as hot of a temper as Harry had.

Harry sent a thanks up to whatever lucky star was shining on him when instead of whipping out his hawthorn wand, Draco sighed wearily and dragged his slim hands through his hair. "I-I…yeah, ok" he stated though he seemed far from convinced. But Harry was satisfied, he had said his piece and at least it appeared like his friend was at least thinking about it instead of simply dismissing it as impossible. That would have to do for now.

Unfortunately now that they had finished discussing Draco's woe-begotten circumstances, the pureblood turned his attention to Harry's own 'relationship.' Harry knew he was in trouble the moment he saw the familiar evil little smirk creep onto Malfoy's face.

"So….you and your squib looked….comfy" Draco said in an offhand manner, once again picking up his own utensils to re-attack the fried noodles in front of him.

Harry sent him a half hearted glare (half hearted, because he knew that Draco didn't actually mean it as an insult but was only saying it to get a reaction out of Harry—which of course he did), "his name is Sebastian…." Harry said pointedly. To which Draco simply shrugged as though he could care less and raised an eyebrow.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes knowing there was no point in evading the question as Draco could be rather tenacious when he wanted to be, "not that it's any of your business but to answer your unasked question, we are good….things have been a little bumpy but I think they are getting better…."

Draco's smirk widened, causing Harry to blush (damn his pale complexion anyway), "hmmm…..yes they look like they are getting more than better"

Harry threw his crumpled napkin at Draco's face, feeling slightly vindicated when it hit him square on the nose and elicited an undignified squawk—stupid prat.

"I am NOT talking about this with you of all people!" Harry shook his head adamantly, "plus, there really isn't anything to tell" he added feeling strangely regretful at the truth in his last sentence. Not that he had expected more at this point….but, well this morning at been rather…..er—nice. Yeah. That was it, nice. Harry mentally told his stupid brain to shut up.

"If not me….who would you talk about this with? Weasley? Or worse Weaslette?" Draco replied not losing his smug knowing look for a moment. Sometimes Harry really questioned his choice of friends.

"No—I—I, there just isn't anything to really say….at least not yet. This—whatever it is, is new Draco….I…well, yeah" Harry finished lamely hating the fact that he sounded so uncertain over something that really shouldn't have been uncertain. But in truth, he really didn't know where he and Sebastian stood…their relationship was even more volatile and ever-changing then his and Draco's had been. They had gone from outright enemies, to sort of amicable acquaintances, to well….whatever they were now…so Harry really didn't know what he could say.

Whatever snide remark Draco had been about to make died out as he took in Harry's rather lost expression, his eyes softening minutely before he said,

"Well, whatever happens Harry, don't sabotage yourself….let yourself be happy for once. You have earned at least that"

Harry blinked in surprise at Draco's oddly sentimental words before giving the blond a small smile, "You to Drake….you to."

-NOTES-

*Fritz Heider was a psychologist who played a large role in the developing the Attribution theory. The Attribution theory (as one part of the larger and more complex Heiderian account of social perception) describes how people come to explain (make attributions about) the behavior of others and themselves. Behavior is attributed to a disposition (e.g., personality traits, motives, attitudes), or behavior can be attributed to situations—info taken from wikipedia ;)

Song and artist: Neon Trees; Everybody Talks.