A/N: Excellent. A nice decent length chapter, just as I wanted it. So... Harry and Draco plan on running off together, do they? How utterly romantic... But they can't get off that easy, now can they? It's high time we introduce some villainy. ;) As always, feel free to review, cuz you know i love it when you do. :)

"I need your help," were the first words out of Harry's mouth as he stepped through the threshold. His palms were sweating and his throat was dry. He had to keep telling himself he had to do this. Because he couldn't do this all on his own.

Hermione Granger-Weasley's lips thinned, an expression of worry palpable on her face as she studied him. "Come in, Harry," she replied somberly, the look in her eye making Harry suspect she might already know. And if Hermione knew… he didn't want to think about it.

"I… I think I've made a huge mistake," he confessed as his hostess offered him a seat in her cozy livingroom she shared with Ron and their two kids. Hermione said nothing, sitting back against the couch cushions, waiting patiently for his words to come. "I… the Malfoy case… He wasn't paying me for protection." He swallowed, hoping this was enough for Hermione to decipher without him actually having to say it. Her expression remained trained, coaxing Harry to continue before she said anything. "At first it was an obligation. I came to him because he had paid for my help, in whichever twisted sense of the word he saw it. But I…" he sighed, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands. "He's in love with me and I can't… I can't deny him anymore."

Hermione passed him a genuinely sympathetic look, leaning forward to clasp his hand in hers. "Harry…" she tried, her voice soft and soothing and full of regret. "I know you haven't been happy with Ginny."

Harry blinked. "You…?" He lifted his gaze to hers. She nodded bitterly.

"I see it in the way you look at her, like whatever life you expected to have with her has been a disappointment," Hermione confirmed, eyes shining with clear sadness for her two close friends' relationship, damaged beyond repair. "Harry, whenever Malfoy confronted you at Hogwarts, you fought back. You fought back with a passion I'd never seen in you. After Sirius died, Malfoy seemed to be the one thing keeping you alive. You… were constantly seeking him out, anticipating his next move. You were looking for a fight and maybe… maybe even then, you were looking for something far more."

"What're you saying, Hermione?" Harry wheezed. "You… you think I had feelings for him then? That I led him on?" He had half a mind to feel offended by her accusation.

She shook her bushy head of hair. "No, Harry. I'm simply saying that back then, you chose Ginny because she was who everyone expected you to be with. You fooled yourself into believing that you wanted her… that all of that pent up sexual aggression within you was down to her. That she could release it. But Harry, this isn't Hogwarts anymore and it's time you make decisions for yourself."

Harry pursed his lips, pressing a hand to his mouth. "He wants me to run away with him. But I can't leave her, Hermione. I can't tell her that I don't want her… The kids…"

"If you talk to her, Harry, tell her what you want, maybe she'll understand." Harry made to argue, but she put up her hand to stop him. "I'm not saying you have to tell her everything and I'm not saying she's likely to accept it, but she'll understand. You deserve to be happy, Harry. You more than anyone else in this world deserve to be happy."

~.~.~.~.~

Ambrosius Nott did not care for mess in his household. Nor did he care for cleaning up a mess himself. Although well groomed and well mannered, his stepson had a habit of leaving things lying around where they shouldn't be lying around. He grumbled, cursing his wife for being so adverse to keeping house elves in the house if he refused to pay them. The wizarding world had really gone to the dogs since the Dark Lord's demise.

He bent down to pick up the offending article and was about to Incendio the now two day old edition of the Daily Prophet to bits before catching sight of the image smattered across the front page. Astoria. And Malfoy. His eyes narrowed, recalling the conversation he had overheard his wife having with her ex. He had initially been shocked and appalled at the article- which was clearly errant hearsay, but the photographs told a completely different story altogether. He and his wife never argued. They were perfectly content with one another. And he'd honestly thought he'd found the perfect wife.

But those pictures… those pictures had him flying off the handle. What in the hell had she been doing with her ex-husband? Sneaking around behind his back… it was uncalled for. They'd rowed for the first time in their three years of marriage.

"No, I did not hook up with Draco, you great ponce!" she'd insisted again and again and again. "How many bloody times do I have to tell you, he's not of that persuasion?"

It was as good an excuse as any. One Ambrosius was disinclined to believe until Malfoy had the gall to grace them with his presence. He'd slunk away into the kitchen, just around the corner from the sitting room, where he could easily hear every word of Astoria verbally abusing her ex-husband.

His sense of anger began to ebb, only to be replaced by smug pride. There the Malfoy fiend was, getting his penance. But then…

It was a glamour.

You don't have to sneak around.

Yes. I do.

Do what?

Harry Potter.

Harry the Bloody Boy Who Lived and Sent the Wizarding World all to Hell Potter. Involved with Draco Malfoy. Ambrosius sneered. Lucius would have a coronary.

~.~.~.~.~

Harry, spurred on by Hermione's unexpected pep talk, understood what he had to do. What he had to say to Ginny to make her understand. He hadn't been fair on her. He hadn't been honest. She deserved the truth. He would return home and tell her everything.

Too anxious to apparate or floo, he decided upon the muggle tube station. Sitting in the grubby, packed space on the train gave him time to think. Time to put his words in order. Time to back out if all else failed… return home, pack his trunk and go to his lover and insist they leave that instant.

Draco.

Merlin- he just needed to be held right now. To be told what to do. Not that Hermione wasn't talking sense. Or that Draco ever talked any sense at all… Draco's plans… they were short term. The chateau… Nice… Scorpius… What Hermione had suggested… it was long term. And sensible. But harder. Much, much harder. If he had to choose between what he was about to do and defeat Voldemort all over again, he'd take Voldemort. He'd take Voldemort any day.

At one point, he considered dragging Draco over to his home with him. To give him courage. To give him a voice. To give Ginny proof. But he couldn't do that to Draco. This was his problem and he had to solve it himself.

Choking down his fear, he stepped off the train onto the platform and made his way toward the nearest apparation point. He knew if didn't apparate now, he'd back out and go running back into Malfoy's arms, back at the Manor.

He felt the familiar tug at his naval, that sensation of being squeezed tightly and then stuffed into a glass jar far smaller than he was as he completed his apparation.

Home. He shivered, realizing the weight of what he was about to do. This may just be the one moment to liberate him. He sucked in a breath, reaching into his deep coat pocket for his keys. Feeling the cool metal beneath his fingertips, he pulled them out and fit the corresponding key into the lock to his front door.

What he entered to made his heart stop, his auror instincts kicking in. From the foyer, multitudinous copies of the Daily Prophet that had been previously stacked by the door were torn into shred and strewn across the floor. Within the sitting room, furniture was over turned. Scorch marks streaked the walls, deep and brown and still spelling of smoke.

His dominant hand reached for his wand in his jeans pocket. He tried to steady his breathing. Someone had been here. Someone had been looking for something. From the looks of things, it was fairly recent too.

Ginny should have been home by now. And the children… His heart pounded in his chest as he called out to them. No answer. He could feel his legs giving out as he tried to reach the kitchen.

He thrust a hand out and caught himself on the door jamb of the kitchen before he could topple. He blinked, noticing someone sitting at the table. Long almost white blond hair tied at the back with a baby blue ribbon. Eyes stone cold and grey- as deep and grey as Draco's. But older and much more severe. The man's mouth twitched in a sneer, his right hand reaching out to tighten its hold on his find.

Ginny. Paralyzed by a bodybinding spell of sorts. Her eyes widened at the sight of Harry, standing, in shocked disbelief in the doorway.

"Well well, Potter. Nice of you to join us," Lucius Malfoy sneered, giving a sharp tug to Ginny's hair as he did so. "It appears you have some explaining to do."