A/N: It's so funny; I can tell when everyone's gotten out of work or classes by the sudden influx of reviews right around six and seven. It's rather adorable, if I do say so myself.

I can't say much about this chapter without giving things away, but know that it tackles some issues, making certain things more realistic and understandable.

Also, just so you've got something to look forward to: at the publication of chapter fifteen, the rating of this story will go up to M. I'll leave the rest to your imagination until the time comes.

Chapter Eleven:

Words better left said.

Draco won the match, completely blindsiding Harry as he rushed to the finish. He flew over to Harry, flying around him in obnoxious circles, waving the snitch in his face.

"You'll be sleeping in Slytherin colors tonight, Potter!"

Harry glared at him. "I did last night, if I remember correctly."

"Yeah, you did, didn't you?" Draco said contemplatively, still circling. "You look good in Slytherin colors. If only I had my wand..."

Harry grabbed the edges of his cloak and wrapped them firmly around himself. "You'll not have me wearing green and silver," he snapped. "Now stop showing off and let's go."

Draco did not stop, instead asking, "Aren't you going to ask me where I was at dinner? I've been waiting all night for the question, but it seems you've picked entirely the wrong moment to stop butting into my business."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. Draco, where were you at dinner?"

Draco smirked, a bright light twinkling in his eyes. "Wanking, so I could get through this match and stay focused. Look liked it worked too, seeing as how I won." Harry's jaw dropped as he stared at Draco, who burst into laughter. "Merlin's beard, I've been waiting to see that expression on your face all day! Relax, Potter, I was studying, like a good little boy."

"I-you-"

Draco glanced down and grinned wickedly. "Looks like someone else is in need of a release of pressure, eh?"

Harry blushed furiously, finally dropping down, out of reach of the circling Draco. He landed, jumping off his broom, securely wrapping his cloak around himself before Draco could join him.

"I could always give you a hand," he said as he joined Harry on the ground, voice dripping with innuendo.

"Sod off," Harry snapped. "Come on, let's get inside before someone catches us out so late." He extinguished the ball of light hovering over the field, then started walking back to the castle. Draco grabbed his hand, and Harry looked at him in surprise.

"I thought we'd already decided the whole school knows," he said. "So what's the point in not holding hands?"

Harry smiled; he never would've pegged Draco as someone who liked physical affection, but clearly he had been wrong. "Alright, then."

The point was moot; they hadn't seen anyone by the time they reached the seventh floor corridor, and Draco dropped his hand, looking at the wall contemplatively.

"Hmm," he mused. "What do I want...?"

Harry's stomach twisted anxiously. Suddenly the seemingly innocuous bet was anything but. "Hurry up, Malfoy," he snapped, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Potter," Draco replied evenly. "I won't ruin your precious innocence...at least not yet." He finally began pacing, muttering something under his breath, and a metal door much like the ones in the dungeons appearing at the last pass. "Come on, then," Draco said, opening the door and disappearing into the dim room.

Harry followed, preparing himself for anything. But what was inside hardly came as a surprise; the room was significantly larger than it had been either of the other times they had been here, which certainly came as no shock. The comfortable, plushy couch had been replaced with an antique chaise that looked as though it would break if one sat down too heavily. The fireplace was still there, burning merrily, though the Malfoy crest hung above it. There was a huge, four-poster bed along the left wall, like an oversized version of the ones in their dorms, decked out in Slytherin colors, as promised. There was a dresser against the right wall instead of the hatch leaning down to the kitchens, and Harry figured Draco was tired of arriving to class in rumpled or magicked clothes. A tall shelf stood next to it, filled with books so old they looked as if they'd disintegrate if touched. There was also a small window, just large enough to let in Capry, should he choose to appear.

The entire room made Harry uncomfortable, reminding too closely of the last time he had been in Malfoy Manor, and the dream he had had last night. "Does it have to be so...Malfoy-ish?" Harry asked.

Draco laughed lightly, hanging his Quidditch robes on a nearby coatrack. "Of course, what were you expecting? Surely not the crumbling Burrow, or your precious Gryffindor dorms. This is my night to have it any way I like, and I like my room at home."

"This is what your room at home is like?" Harry asked, still standing by the door.

"Well my room's bigger," Draco said, considering. "And it's got more windows. Much lighter than this place. But I've decided I like seeing you in firelight, and I've gotten used to waking up in darkness at Hogwarts. Plus I've got a telly, tuned only to wizard channels of course, but it seemed wrong to bring such technology here. Why, don't you like it?"

Harry scuffed his feet on the floor. Even the carpet looked antique, and Harry felt guilty for daring to mar it with his feet. "Er..."

Draco laughed again. "Come on, Harry, it's not that bad. Feel how comfy the bed is." He plopped down on the edge, bouncing lightly. He patted the seat next to him. "Nothing's going to bite you, not without my say so."

Harry took off his shoes and walked carefully over to Malfoy, half-convinced that something was going to jump out and curse him before he'd even had a chance to respond. He slowly lowered himself onto the bed; it was comfy, he'd give Malfoy that. Much softer than what the dorms offered.

"See?" Draco said, leaning his head on Harry's shoulder and twining their fingers together. "Nothing to be afraid of."

"Hmfph," Harry replied, unconvinced.

Draco sighed dramatically. "Alright, Potter, what would you have me change?"

"Could you just get rid of the crest?" Harry asked, gesturing at it. "It's staring at me."

"It is not, and I won't," Draco said crossly. "If we're going to be together, you better get used to it.

"Then maybe the chaise? Something with a little more plush?" he asked hopefully.

"That chaise, or at least the one in my room at home, has been in my family for centuries," Draco lectured. He sounded almost dangerous. "Are you saying you don't like my family's taste in furniture?"

"No, of course not," Harry stammered. "Never mind. The room is fine."

"Alright then. There are pajamas in the top drawer," Draco said, gesturing at the cabinet. The drawer slid out, and Slytherin green silk pajamas flew across the room. "And clothes for the morning. I made sure to add Gryffindor colors, too, just for you."

"Thanks," Harry said tersely.

"It's the least I could do," Draco said, ignoring his tone entirely. "I don't know about you, but I've either been in classes or studying all day, and I've simply got to get out of these clothes." He waved his wand again, and was suddenly sitting next to Harry in nothing but a pair of boxers. Harry forgot how to breathe, forgot how to beat his heart, forgot how to think. He could do nothing other than take in the boy next to him, every available inch, balling his hands tight enough that his fingernails would leave marks in order to prevent himself from touching Draco.

He also saw, with a sickening wrench, the scars snaking over Draco's skin, the scars he had made when he had cursed him in the bathroom during sixth year. He had never apologized for that, but this didn't seem the time, not when Draco was so clearly pleased with himself.

Draco raised an eyebrow, a smile dancing in his eyes. "Yes, that's the reaction I usually get." Harry let out a low growl, entirely beyond his control. "Oh, you don't like the idea of others seeing me naked?" Draco asked innocently. "I'm afraid to say you're hardly the first."

Harry roughly grabbed the back of Draco's neck, pulling him near. Draco hummed quietly, opening his mouth slightly in anticipation of a kiss. Instead Harry attacked his neck, licking, biting, sucking, hard enough to leave marks. Draco gasped, letting one hand fall to Harry's thigh, digging his fingers in, needing to anchor himself to something. Harry worked his way down to his collarbone, attaching himself to the skin, sucking and pulling until a red mark appeared.

"A-are you marking me?" Draco gasped, barely able to form the words.

Harry's lips finally found his, hand going up to tangle in his hair. Draco moaned at the feeling of Harry's tongue forcing its way in, of how he took complete control of the situation, doing everything in his power to turn Draco into a quivering pile of need. Then he slowed, catching his breath, laying a series of kisses down his jawbone before pulling away.

"No, I don't like the idea," Harry stated firmly.

Draco stared at him with hazy eyes. "Wh-what idea, exactly?" he breathed.

Harry smirked, satisfied. "Of anyone other than me seeing you naked. Though," he added, glancing pointedly at Draco's boxers, "you aren't entirely bare."

"I…no, I'm not, I sleep in boxers," Draco said, trying to regain himself. "At home, just in boxers, but sharing a dorm requires a certain amount of decorum I'm not willing to breach."

"We're not in a dorm," Harry said pointedly.

"No, but I didn't want to scare you off," Draco replied. "Which seems rather silly now," he added, fingering the bruise on his collarbone. "People will stare, you know."

"I've been stared at ever since I entered the wizarding world," Harry said. "I imagine you have as well, given your name and position."

"Yes, but not for having a trail of bruises down my neck."

Harry laughed. "These will be better stares, I think."

Draco looked at him, amused. "We'll see if you're still saying that by lunch. Double Defense Against the Dark Arts together first thing, remember? And we'll be walking in together, I assume, my neck covered with impressions of your teeth. I daresay the whole school will know by the time class is out."

"Good," Harry said firmly, his earlier fears completely banished. He wasn't sure if it was the conversation he and Draco had had earlier, or maybe the casual way he had stripped, as if Harry was meant to see him, but he was feeling much better.

"I'll bet you ten galleons I get a Howler from Father by dinnertime," Draco said, leaning back on his arms, stretching his legs out luxuriously. Harry watched intently. "He rather enjoys humiliating me, I think." Draco sighed almost nostalgically at the thought, and scooted himself the rest of the way onto the bed, leaning back against the mound of pillows, propped up so he was sitting. "Harry, are you just going to sit there in your uniform all night, or shall you join me?" Draco waved his wand, sending one of the sets of pajamas back into the dresser. "I'll leave those for you, if you'd like them," he said, tone of voice making it perfectly clear what he preferred.

Harry joined Draco on the pillows, but he chose to keep his clothes on for the time being. He and Ginny had not progressed past the removal of shirts, and he wasn't sure at all how he felt about lying next to a nearly naked Draco. Nor did he entirely trust himself not to do something better saved for another time, later on in their relationship.

"Or you could just wear the same dirty, smelly clothes forever," Draco rebuked. "I'm sure no one would notice the difference."

Harry glared at him, or at least tried to. He kept finding his eyes drawn lower, to the mark he had made on Draco's collarbone, to his pink nipples, only slightly darker than the rest of his skin, that started to prickle under his gaze, to the perfect, slender waist Harry found himself dying to wrap his legs around, and finally to the tantalizing line of his boxers, hands again itching to touch things that oughtn't be touched.

Draco smiled rather cat-like. "Mmm," he sighed, "I like this. Being looked at like I'm the most beautiful creature on the planet. I am, of course, but it's nice to be appreciated." He scowled slightly, brows knitting together. "Pansy and Blaise never took the time to truly admire my form." Harry actually took comfort in that; if their actions were that quick and frantic, there could hardly be time for a real relationship, right? "I assume by your obvious embarrassment about taking off your own clothes, you haven't the chance to show off to anyone before?"

Harry flushed, both from the shame at his naivety and Draco's words about showing off. He had never particularly fancied his looks one way or another; he was well toned, but rather short and hairy, and he tended to feel like a hobbit whenever he looked in the mirror.

"I can also infer you're a virgin, yes?" Harry's flush darkened, and he couldn't come up with a response to that, either. "Don't worry, Potter, I'm not going to pop that cherry, not tonight. I really wish you'd relax; I want to cuddle, but you're far to tense to be comfortable." Draco seemed to have caught on to Harry's thinking on the subject, because he added, "Pansy and Blaise never wanted to cuddle."

As much as Harry didn't like those names being constantly thrown at him, Draco was right that he enjoyed being told about all the things he got to do that the others didn't. He wished he had some old names to tease Draco with, but he was certain that saying, "Cho always used to cry whenever we kissed" or "Ginny wouldn't let me go beneath her bra" would not earn him any credibility. Nor would the fact that he had never been with a boy before.

"Harry, honestly. It's just a good cuddle." He paused, then added with a rather lecherous grin, "While I'm mostly naked, of course."

Harry's eyes slipped shut. "Draco…"

"Stop being such a prude." Draco lifted his arm, wrapped it around himself, and settled on his chest. "I'm sure this can't be that bad."

"I—…" Draco was warm against him, the skin of his back so smooth against his hand, his leg pleasantly heavy as he draped it across Harry's. "Mm, no, not that bad."

"And wouldn't it be better if…" Draco trailed off, taking advantage of Harry's distraction as he reached for his wand.

"If what?" Harry asked absentmindedly, rubbing circles on Draco's back.

"If you were half naked, too," Draco whispered mischievously, and waved his wand.

Harry jerked away, suddenly finding himself in the same state of dress as Draco. "Give me my clothes back!" he said, looking around for them.

"They're in the laundry hamper," Draco said, hovering the other pair of pajamas over to the dresser, then closing the drawer. "The house elves will take care of them."

Harry had once more curled his knees up to his chest, and was blushing furiously. "Draco, I—"

"There's no need to be embarrassed," Draco said. "I've seen it all before. More, in fact," he said, eyes drifting lower.

"Stop it," Harry snapped. "Just because you're a bloody exhibitionist doesn't mean that I am."

"Harry, this is not exhibitionism. If I showed up like this in class, perhaps. But in front of you, in front of my boyfriend…" he trailed off. "You're not showing any more than you will be when we go swimming in that wretched lake."

Harry thought he had a point at that. "Well…"

"And given how you've attacked me, leaving marks in all manner of places, I should think you owe me."

"Oh, all right, then," Harry said, an uncurled himself, excruciatingly aware of Draco's eyes sliding over his body, taking in every inch, every flaw.

"Why were you hiding this from me?" Draco said with a sigh. "Harry…" He trailed a hand down his chest, and Harry echoed his sigh. "Now stop blubbering and come cuddle with me," Draco demanded, coming back to himself. He pulled Harry close, and resumed his position on his chest. His hair was tickling Harry's skin, causing minute shudders to race through his body. "Isn't this lovely?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said nervously. He was far more exposed than he'd ever been, and despite Draco's candor, he couldn't relax, not entirely. But he resumed stroking his back, delighting at the soft sighs he was granted with in return. "Yeah, it's not all bad."

Draco smiled, and Harry could feel his lips moving against his skin, causing more shivers. "I thought you'd get used to the idea."

Harry looked down, and his heart started beating faster; not out of arousal, but sudden anxiety. He gently took Draco's left arm and turned it over.

"Harry, what're you—" Draco cut off, seeing what had caught Harry's attention. He tried to jerk his arm back, but Harry had a strong grip on his wrist and he wasn't letting go. "Don't," he said quietly. "Please, don't."

"How'd you get it?" Harry asked, gently tracing his fingers over the lines, following the snake across his skin.

"Harry…" Draco twisted and pulled, but he wasn't getting free until Harry had gotten his answers. Draco was well acquainted with Harry's stubbornness, and as little as he wanted to, started talking. "It was the summer before sixth year," he said quietly, turning into Harry's chest, muffling his words. "When Voldemort gave me the task of—of repairing the Vanishing Cabinet," stuttering over the real task. "It was a reward, for doing as he asked. But…"

"But?" Harry prompted gently.

"It was also a reminder, of what would happen to me if I failed. My family would be tortured and murdered in front of me, and I'd be next. I didn't want to—to do as he said, but I…" Draco was stammering, and Harry realized he was near tears. But he also had the feeling that this might be the first time Draco had ever talked about it, and perhaps it was good for him to get it out. "And then Snape, constantly watching over me, checking in, as if I was a baby. Of course…of course he was the one to actually do it, to kill Dumbledore. Though I might as well have, repairing the cabinet like that."

"It was the Unbreakable Vow," Harry said gently. "He couldn't help it."

Draco sniffed slightly, then turned to face him. "Unbreakable Vow? What are you talking about?"

Harry froze. Draco hadn't known? Harry had seen it in Snape's memories, after he had died. He just assumed Draco knew. "It's not my place to say," he said uncomfortably. "You should ask your mum about it."

Draco sat up, staring accusingly. "What do you mean, my mum? She and Snape made an Unbreakable Vow? How do you know about it? Have you been—been spying?"

Harry realized with a near panic that he wasn't the only one who had been wondering about the trust in their relationship. And now he had gone and made it seem as if he was just as bad as Draco had suspected. "No, Draco, it's nothing like that. When Snape died, he gave me his memories, and I saw it in the Pensieve."

Draco's eyes were still narrowed. "What's a Pensieve? What Unbreakable Vow?"

Stomach squirming, not sure if he was doing the right thing, Harry launched into the tale, telling Draco the story of the first time he had seen the Pensieve, of all the memories Dumbledore had showed him, and all of Snape's memories. Why he had protected Harry over the years, and about the Unbreakable Vow, about why Snape had been so intent on helping Draco. By the time he stopped talking, Draco was staring at him, almost if he had gone mad.

"You…you saw all this," Draco said quietly. "Snape…wanted you to see it?"

"I don't know about me specifically, but yeah, someone," Harry answered. "He wanted everyone—well, not everyone, but the right people—to know."

"So all the times…" Draco trailed off, lost in his own memories. "I can't believe…"

Harry reached out and pulled Draco against him, holding him close. Harry remembered with blinding clarity how he had felt after he'd first seen Snape's memories, how it had changed everything, absolutely everything. "It's alright," Harry said, rather stupidly. "He was just helping in the only way he could."

"Yeah, by—by—" Draco sputtered, and Harry thought he was seeing the wrong side of things.

"By saving your life," Harry said. "By keeping you from making the biggest mistake of your life."

"He could have told me!" Draco yelled, and Harry felt tears splashing down his chest. "He didn't have to lie about it! I would have gone on with him, gone on faking until the Astronomy Tower. Doesn't anyone bloody trust me? The Dark Lord had to brand me, Snape had to keep the Unbreakable Vow to himself, making my life a living hell, and you, you couldn't be bothered to tell me any of this until now!"

"I thought you knew!" Harry said. "I thought, after the war, your mother would have—"

"Oh, you thought so, did you?" Draco wrenched out of Harry's arms and stared at him accusingly. "Do you have any idea what it was like growing up in my house? I never knew anything, nobody ever thought to tell me, because I was just a kid. A kid, who was supposed to kill the greatest wizard of all time. Surely nothing as mundane as an Unbreakable Vow would have come up now, would it?"

Harry stared at him. "I didn't—"

"No, you didn't." Draco turned away from him, bringing his knees up to his chest, echoing Harry's position. Harry put a hand on his back, and thankfully Draco didn't pull away. But his entire body was shaking, and Harry would have bet all the gold in his vault that he was crying.

"I'm sorry," Harry said.

"Snape—Severus Snape, my godfather, one of the few people I ever loved—died because of me, because Voldemort thought he was the one who disarmed Dumbledore," Draco said, his voice remarkably clear through his tears. "I can't…"

"You learn to live with it," Harry said quietly. "My own godfather died saving me, too."

"At the hands of my aunt."

Harry didn't answer right away. "Yeah."

Draco let out a shuddering sigh. "She was always mad, you know, even before Azkaban. Being there just made her worse."

"I'm sorry," Harry said again.

"Well, she's dead now, isn't she?" Draco said, voice hollow.

"So's Voldemort," Harry offered.

"Yeah, you killed him." Draco's voice was utterly voice of emotion, and Harry had no idea how to respond. "Thank you."

Harry gaped at his back. He never would have thought he'd hear that, from Malfoy. "I—you're welcome?"

Draco turned to him, tear tracks streaking down his face, but an entirely genuine, if small, smile on his face. "I don't know what we would have done without you, Harry Potter."

Harry had yet to close his mouth. "You—"

"I know I should have helped," Draco said, inferring the rest of Harry's statement. "But I couldn't have, not with my Father, not with Voldemort breathing down the back of my neck. At least I saved your life when the Snatchers brought you to us. If they had known…"

"I know," Harry said. He pushed thoughts of Bellatrix torturing Hermione and killing Dobby, of Ollivander and Luna being held hostage out of his mind. Those were not Draco's crimes, he was not to be held responsible for what his family had done. He wrapped himself against Draco, his bare chest resting against Draco's bare back, the sensation not escaping him even now. Draco grabbed his hands with the desperation of a drowning man.

"Don't…don't tell anyone," Draco whispered. "I assume Granger and Weasley know, but don't tell anyone else."

Harry couldn't even begin to comprehend the sort of pride and loyalty to a family name that meant Draco would rather be known as the man who let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, who nearly killed Voldemort, than nothing more than a pawn in Voldemort's game, but it was Draco's choice, and he would respect it. "Alright."

"And don't tell anyone, anyone, you caught me crying, again," he said, sniffing back the last of his tears. "I won't curse you this time, though."

"Thanks," Harry said with a small smile. "That way I won't have to nearly kill you again." He traced one of the scars he had caused, the one that curved over his right shoulder. "I'm so sorry," he sighed. "I really didn't know."

"It's alright," Draco said, and managed a crooked grin. "I think they look rather dashing, don't you think?"

Harry grinned back. "Most definitely."

"Pansy never liked them. She thought them ugly. And Blaise didn't ever say anything one way or the other. Even if you're lying, I like the idea of having a lover who doesn't mind them."

"I'm not lying," Harry said. "Merlin's beard, Draco, after everything I've told you tonight, why would I lie about that?"

Draco shrugged, and Harry saw he looked a little sheepish. "I suppose."

"Come on," Harry said, pulling on his shoulders, lying down and drawing Draco back to him. "That's enough of that for one night, don't you think?"

Draco nodded. He started tracing delicate circles on Harry's skin, over his chest, down to his bellybutton—which caused a delightful gasp—and then back up, almost hesitantly, to a nipple. Harry groaned quietly, nipple hardening under Draco's fingers. His nervousness rose along with his pleasure, but he figured Draco needed this, needed something to distract him from their conversation. Besides, he thought, nothing had ever felt this good before, and was pretty sure he couldn't form the words to stop it, even if he wanted to.

Then Draco's mouth replaced his hand, flicking and licking and nibbling, and Harry arched his back, moaning louder. He tangled his hands in Draco's hair, holding him in place, utterly unable to let him go. Draco hummed in the back of his throat, clearly pleased with Harry's unspoken demand. Then Harry dragged Draco's head over to his other nipple. Harry was incapable of even guessing at Draco's state of mind, to do anything other than surrender to the pleasure.

Eventually Draco pulled away, and Harry made a noise of complaint. "Why're you—"

"I told you being half naked was a good thing," Draco said smugly. As if their conversation had never happened.

"I promise I won't complain again," Harry breathed, still trying to catch his breath. Draco's hand slid lower, gently teasing the band of Harry's boxers. Harry's hips jumped up against his will, but he pulled his hand away. "No, not tonight. Not yet, not after what I just told you."

"I supposed you'd say that," Draco sighed. "Merlin, I don't know how I thought I could sleep next to you like this, not when…" His hand went back down to Harry's boxers, slid just slightly beneath for hardly more than a second, before settling back on his chest. "Shame, though. I've been told I'm quite skilled."

"I'm sure you are," Harry said, voice a little strangled. "Later."

Draco sighed again. "I always get what I want," he pouted. "I loathe waiting."

"I suppose that's why you slept with Pansy and Blaise?" Harry asked lightly, though he was desperately interested in the answer. "Because they were there, and you don't like to wait?"

"I suppose," Draco said, considering. "And they're my friends, after all."

"Ron's my friend, and I've never shagged him," Harry said with a smile, thinking how ridiculous that would be.

"Yes, but he does look daft," Draco said. "My friends are devastatingly attractive." Harry swatted his arm lightly, and Draco let out an indignant noise. "Not as attractive as you, though. Nobody can compete with you."

Harry flushed. "You're talking out your ass, Malfoy."

"I am not," Draco said. "And while my ass is yours to do what you please with, I hardly think talking with it is the most entertaining choice."

Harry's flush darkened. "It's getting late," he said. "And I don't find the idea of meeting Professor Whisp while half asleep very wise."

Draco snuggled further into his arms. "That seems very prudent indeed," he replied.

"You'll have to get up," Harry said, "so we can get under the blankets.

Draco buried his face in Harry's chest. "I don't want to."

"Right, then I'll do it without you." Harry slid out from Draco's embrace and underneath the covers, finding the silk cool and refreshing. Draco moaned in protest but joined Harry, lying in the same position he had been in.

"You're evil, you know that?"

"Oh yes, covers are quite the devil," Harry replied as seriously as he could.

"Mm, indeed."

Harry kissed the top of his head. "G'night, Draco."

Draco kissed his chest, just shy of pressing his lips back against his nipple. "G'night, Harry."