With a Little Luck
Chapter Twelve

"It's all our faults," Hermione muttered, her hands in her head. Draco felt pleased. She actually appeared distraught. She deserved to feel worse, in his opinion.

"How do we even know if he's telling the truth? Quite the story! Leave it to Malfoy to make it up!" Ron spat venomously.

Ignoring her husband, Hermione looked up at Draco with a desperation in her eyes. It unnerved and disgusted him. "If we hadn't left him…this would have never happened. I-I can't believe – I can't believe any of it!" she finished shrilly, sniffling. Hermione's tears had been falling openly since Draco had begun his story.

"What reason would I have to fabricate such a story?" Draco addressed the redhead's accusation.

Ron grimaced. "Publicity," he muttered after a minute, blushing as he realised how ridiculous that sounded. Ron's face fell as he placed a comforting arm around his wife. "You told us what happened to Harry before you found him and that you did find him but…where is he now? Is he okay?"

"Yes, I would say he is more than okay," Draco said assuredly. "He has requested I bring you both to him but there are some guidelines that absolutely must be adhered to," he leaned forward on the table, drawing up the most menacing glare he could, "If you overstep yourselves I will make you wish I had never been let out of Azkaban."

Hermione recoiled at Draco's harsh tone but quickly nodded. "Of course, anything!"

"Would you hurry along and tell us what the bloody hell is going on? If you know where Harry is just tell us, Malfoy! He's our friend!" Ron's voice was rising again and Draco shot him an icy glare, he disliked the sound of possessiveness.

"He isn't your anything," Draco corrected coldly. "When you see him you must not touch him. Any attempt at touching him will quickly result in the loss of your hands. Unless, of course, he touches you first. Refrain from using his surname, Fletchley would only refer to him by it. And," Draco stood now, his hands pressing down on the table as he leaned over the couple, "If you do anything to hurt him or the progress he has made I will personally see to it that neither of you ever sees the outside of my home again." Draco leaned off his table now, pleased with the look of horror on both of the Weasleys' faces. "This way then," he instructed.

Hermione and Ron both jumped up from the table. "Just so you know," Ron began as they started up the stairs, "I have my wand drawn and I am a fully trained Auror, Malfoy. If you try anything funny-"

Draco shot another glare over his shoulder just before he opened the door to his study at the top of his stairs, "If you value your life or your friendship with Harry, you will put that wand away this instant," Draco snapped, smirking as Ron grumbled but conceded. Instead of opening the door immediately, Draco gave a precursory knock to warn Harry of their arrival.

From inside, Harry called out for them to enter. Hermione and Ron both stiffened at the sound of his voice. Draco led them into the room, jamming the door open, but neither of them seemed to move from the threshold. The sound of his voice and the view of Harry standing there, between the fireplace and the sofa was too surreal for them to take all at once. Without hesitation, Draco came to stand before Harry, slightly blocking his view of his friends. "You'll be okay," Draco reassured him quietly, briefly squeezing his hands before stepping aside and busying himself with the drink carts. Certainly wine would not be enough for him to get through this meeting, and he wanted to give the old friends space without leaving Harry at the same time.

Settling down at his desk with a glass of firewhiskey, Draco watched as a keen observer, ready at any moment to jump to Harry's aid. "Hermione, Ron," Harry said softly at last. His words broke their stillness as they moved into the room. Hermione made her way towards him, but within a foot, Harry flinched and took a step backwards, putting his hands up gently before gesturing to the sofa. "D-do you want a drink?" he offered shakily.

"Harry," Hermione whispered at last. "I can't believe it's…was everything Draco said the truth?" she asked, her face turning a sickly colour.

Harry bit his lip and slowly nodded but quickly cut off any pity remarks he was about to receive. "Please, I don't want to talk about it. That's why I wanted him to tell you, so I wouldn't have to…you'll hear me talk about it soon enough," he admitted.

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione's tone was gentle, as if she were afraid that if she spoke too loudly he would shatter. Draco could see on Harry's face that he disliked it.

"Draco?" Harry asked. His voice was shaking slightly and Draco had ever urge to close the distance between them. To offer Harry his hand to hold. But Draco knew he was strong, that he was just nervous and perhaps having difficulties using as many words as were necessary.

"We – Harry," Draco corrected, "Is going to charge Fletchley with all of the crimes which he can be held accountable for. We have been preparing Harry's testimony."

"Good," Ron said firmly. "That bastard Fletchley, I can't bloody believe it! What a sodding-"

"Please," Harry said softly. "I don't want to talk about it," he reiterated.

Ron seethed but nodded, relaxing the best he could into the Chesterfield.

"Where have you been since Draco found you? It's been months, if what he tells us was correct. Were you at St. Mungo's the entire time?" Hermione asked gently, she was clearly attempting not to let too many questions tumble out on top of one another.

"How were you able to escape the Prophet if you were there?" Ron questioned incredulously.

Shaking his head, Harry fleeted a glance over at Draco once more who merely nodded his head from his spot at the desk before returning his attention back to his drink. "Other than a few trips to a remote Muggle village, I've been here the entire time."

Ron suddenly stood up from the sofa, turning towards Draco with a look of surprise and suspicion. "You've been with him the entire time?"

"How is that so difficult to believe, Weasley?" Draco returned bitterly. This was his house, this was Harry, and Ron had the gall to talk to him like that – accusatorily.

"Harry, I know you've been through a lot, mate, but you do know Malfoy's a convicted Death Eater!"

"Was," Harry corrected quietly, his head was hanging now, his fringe covering his features.

"You can't erase the Dark Mark! I bloody well can see the thing from here!" Ron jabbed a finger in Draco's direction.

Draco was about to snap a reply before he looked down. His Dark Mark was showing, which was rare for him to do, even though Harry had earlier suggested that he be less ashamed of it. That shame came crawling up on him again and Draco reached for his sleeve but was stilled by Harry. "Don't you dare cover it," he hissed across the room. Withdrawing his hand from his sleeve, Draco shot another glare at Ron instead but allowed Harry to continue speaking.

"Draco healed me. I was in pretty rough shape and he sacrificed a lot," Harry was interrupted by a huff from the blond, "You did sacrifice a lot," he reiterated. "He spent weeks developing a potion that didn't even exist to help cure me. Twice. Please, if you want to be here…Draco deserves all the appreciation in the world for me being here right now. For me being able to see the both of you," Harry said seriously, with admiration as he glanced back at Draco, a small smile growing.

"And we are forever grateful, Draco," Hermione said, her hand grasping Ron and yanking him back onto the Chesterfield. "Harry, oh, I'm just so glad you're alright," she said, holding back the urge to let her tears resurface. "No matter what, no matter who you are, we are here for you forever. I can't believe we let something so petty get between us. Nothing is worth our friendship, Harry. Never again will we make that mistake, I promise. We missed you so much."

"Mate, we were bloody selfish. There wasn't a day we didn't miss you," Ron admitted.

Harry's smile grew and watching him direct it at his friends irked Draco. "I missed you both, too, more than anything."

"I don't know if you ever can-"

"We hope you can forgive us, Harry," Ron finished for his wife, grasping her hand in his lap and looking hopefully at their old friend. "We've been mates for thirteen years, do you think you could begin to forgive us?"

"I already do forgive you. It was years ago and after everything that happened…I just want you both back in my life. And my godchildren," he added pointedly to which Hermione let out a full force of tears. Harry smiled sympathetically at Ron who was also on the verge of tears himself but instead grinned.

"Great, mate, now you've done it I won't be able to shut her up for the next four hours," he teased, quickly dodging Hermione's swat to his shoulder. Harry laughed at his friends.

The scene before him both made Draco glad and incredibly angry all at once. He was watching, wondering which emotion would overcome him. He was happy that Harry had more support than himself and Blaise but incredibly peeved that Hermione and Ron got off that easily. To Draco, it truly was their fault that Harry had endured all that he did. They had abandoned him. They made it possible for him to disappear without a trace. It was their fault Draco had to discover Harry in the way that he did.

Draco suddenly stood from his desk, slamming his glass down as he did so hard that it shattered. The remaining firewhiskey sprayed across Blaise's texts on his desk. Despite a stinging pain in his hand which informed Draco that a shard of glass nestled itself into his palm, and disregarding Hermione's squeal of surprise, Draco rounded on the couple.

"You bloody Gryffindors think you can come in here after nearly three years and everything be alright?" he yelled. "He may not be bold enough to say it but you were right, it is your bloody faults that Harry was in the situation he was in! It was you who left him to be hurt the way he was!"

Before Hermione or Ron could interject, Harry was rising from the armchair. "Hey! You can't blame them for somebody else's actions!"

Suppressing his anger for Harry himself, not wishing to direct it at him, Draco ignored his words and continued to round on Ron and Hermione. "True friends would have stayed by his side, no matter who he was with! They wouldn't have been ashamed simply because he was in a relationship with somebody they didn't approve of – for all the wrong reasons!"

"Malfoy!" Harry screamed. "If you're mad at my decision to forgive them, then get mad at me! Be real, Draco, I don't want you holding things from me because you think I can't take it! If you have done anything for me it is show me that I can take it!"

"Fine! I'm pissed, alright?" Draco returned, his grey eyes finally piercing daggers at Harry's direction.

Harry did not falter. "You're unbelievable, you were the one who suggested they come over here!"

"Yes, but they don't deserve you to forgive them! They abandoned you! They don't deserve you after everything they've done!" he spat, now it was he pointing the accusatory finger at Ron. The couple sat on the couch, one outraged and being held by his surprise stricken wife.

Lowering his voice, clenching his fists at his sides, Harry was – to Draco's surprise – unafraid of his lash of anger. Instead, he seemed empowered by it. "If they don't deserve me than neither do you," he whispered.

Draco's mouth fell open and then shut again. Hurt immediately spread through him. Did Harry truly mean that? Unable to formulate a response to that, Harry continued. "After Hogwarts, after you fought against me to kill me…if you gained my trust and my forgiveness, why can't they? You and I have been through a lot over the past few months, but Ron, Hermione, and I have been through much more. They've never not been my best friends. They're my family."

"No. Family dies for you, they don't leave you to die. No matter what you do, who you decide to be with, true family never abandons you. I sacrificed my life for my family, yours sacrificed theirs for you, this," Draco spat, pointing once again at Ron and Hermione, "Is not a true family."

Harry stood his ground, still unwavering as he crossed his arms. "They are. And they are the only family I choose to have."

Draco growled somewhere in the depths of his throat. It offended him. It sounded as if Harry was choosing Ron and Hermione over him, but Draco couldn't have expected anything otherwise. What did he expect, reuniting them as he was doing? In fear of what his mouth would sputter next, Draco started towards the fireplace and took from the mantle a handful of Floo powder. At the gesture of Draco leaving, Harry softened and begun to frown. "Draco, this is your house. If anyone should leave-"

"No. I have errands to attend to anyway. This is your house, too," Draco tried to remain monotone as he threw the powder on the ground and whispered his destination, disappearing in a flash of green flames.

"Bloody hell, send a warning next time, would you?" Came the immediate response from Draco's sudden arrival in Blaise Zabini's private study. It appeared he had been entertaining a guest. Two, in particular. Both females. Thankfully, for all of them, they were all fully clothed. Draco ignored their presence and started straight for Blaise's corridor. He kept his liquor in the kitchen and Draco desperately needed to quench a particular thirst.

Blaise quickly followed him out into the corridor, bounding after him two steps at a time. "Draco! Oi, what the bloody hell happened to you?"

"Everything," he muttered disdainfully.

"Quit being so melodramatic," he exasperated.

Draco rounded on his friend, startling Blaise with the intense scowl that met him. "I'm bloody in love with Harry Potter and he won't stop kissing me and at the same time we're about to sue his psychotic ex-boyfriend and his two Gryffindork friends are sitting in my study – the two very reasons Harry went through what he did – and he's forgiving them. And I yelled at him. I bloody yelled at Harry. Fuck! He's never going to forgive me and he's going to choose them over-"

"Woah, slow down there, Draco!" Blaise interrupted. He pulled out a chair. "Sit. Breathe. And then talk. Start with that particular bit about being in love with Harry Potter, if you don't mind."

XXXX

The foul mood that settled on Draco was for a multitude of reasons. Not only when he returned home that evening were the Weasleys still present, but he had it drilled into him by Blaise that he was being a fool. And he certainly felt like a fool. Confronting his feelings for Harry was one thing, but accepting them was quite another. Draco understood that most of his anger towards the Weasleys was because he felt he should keep Harry to himself – unjustifiably. He was terrified that Harry would remember who Draco used to be and revert to hating him. Draco was certain it would happen over time, and perhaps it still could, but by what Harry had said to him, the Boy Who Lived never forgot about Draco's past misdeeds yet had still pursued him. It gave Draco a glimmer of hope.

Yet, returning with his head held high was a difficult task when he was returning to apologise to Weasleys. The small party had moved from the study as Draco first landed there, but they weren't far. Following the soft voices down the hall, he came upon them in Harry's room. They were all huddled around one of his bedside tables as he was presenting Hermione with a stack of parchments which Draco recognised as his account of his time with Fletchley.

Clearing his throat, the three inhabitants turned towards him. The Weasleys both looked like they wanted to say something vile but held their tongues, turning towards Harry who held them at bay with a simple shake of his head. Stepping through his friends, Harry came up to Draco who stiffened as Harry came near. There was the slight fear that Harry would hate him for his words, would truly believe that Draco didn't deserve his company any longer. Instead, Harry smiled weakly. "Blaise help you sort yourself out then?"

"I-" Draco closed his mouth and stepped around Harry to address the others. "I may have been out of place with some of my earlier accusations," he said, coming as close to an apology as he would. Ron scoffed and crossed his arms whereas Hermione smiled sympathetically. "And I'm sorry, Harry, I should trust your judgement. I just…" he trailed off, unwilling to share his true motives in front of company.

Thankfully, Harry reached forward and pulled Draco towards him. Stunned by the public display, it took a moment for Draco to embrace him in return as Harry buried his head in Draco's chest. It sounded almost as if he were chuckling into Draco's shirt. "You can be a right poof sometimes, Draco," he muttered standing back. "This is hard for both of us, isn't it? For different reasons."

Withdrawing Harry from him, Draco turned back to their company who appeared shell shocked at their embrace. "Hard for the both of us, indeed," he drawled, "Two Weasleys and a Harry Potter in my guest rooms…it appears I am undergoing a midlife crisis."

Harry laughed and swatted Draco playfully on the arm. "Harry…I thought he said not to touch…I mean," Ron started confusedly as he gestured between the two of them.

"I don't really feel comfortable being touched, yet," he admitted, "Unless it's Draco."

"Why him?" Ron returned, his voice twinging with hurt.

"Ronald," Hermione hissed under her breath, her cheeks colouring, "It's common for victims to feel more comfortable with their rescuers than they even do with their spouses," she explained.

Draco opened his mouth to argue but Harry quickly stepped in. "That's not what it's about at all. Draco may have found and healed me, but he means far more to me than that."

"Harry, you do know that's Malfoy you're talking about?" Ron reminded.

"Tch, lovely skills of observation, Weasley. If it makes you feel any better it took Harry some time before I was able to touch him with ease."

"It's more than that…" Harry began, casting a glance at Draco and avoiding his friends inquiring eyes.

"Harry," Draco said softly, shaking his head, "It's not their business to know and they need not. We don't even…" he sighed, they didn't even have a term or an idea of what they were to each other. Their relationship had clearly moved past that of Healer and patient or house mate. Yet, were they partners? Draco refused to define it, he refused to push anything upon Harry he didn't want. It had been nearly three months…was that enough time for Harry to feel comfortable being with somebody else? 'If earlier today was any indication, I would say yes,' Draco thought inwardly, recalling the determined man writhing on top of him.

"We were thinking that we should add what we knew of Harry and Justin's relationship before Harry disappeared. And any information about the last time we saw him. We can testify with you and Harry," Hermione explained, thankfully changing the subject.

"That, is actually a wonderful idea, Granger. The more individuals we have to testify against that monster, the easier the entire ordeal will be on Harry. That bastard better receive a life sentence in Azkaban," he spat.

"That's something we can agree on for once, Malfoy," Ron said darkly.

A loud growl emitted suddenly from Harry's stomach and Draco raised his eyebrow at him as he flushed. "What? We haven't had any dinner, yet," he said defensively.

"Do we have any leftovers?" Draco inquired to which Harry nodded. "I can have Cally prepare us all a meal," he offered, turning from the room to do just that.

"We'll be done in a moment, we're almost done up here," Harry informed him.

Draco left for the kitchens where he instructed Cally to prepare the four of them dinner. Just as he was settling down at his kitchen table, his hands in his head, he was startled by a voice at the threshold of the kitchen door. "You have a lovely garden," Hermione said, her eyes peering across the kitchen and through the window, the garden illuminated by his backlight.

"Mm, I must credit all of that to Harry."

"His Aunt and Uncle always had him doing chores out in their gardens and around the home. He is a very good cook, as well," Hermione said, moving into the kitchen as she took the seat to the left of Draco.

"So I am told," Draco drawled, looking passed her and through the doorway where the bottom of the stairs could be visible.

Catching his glance, Hermione smiled. "He's fine, they're just having a two year overdue conversation." They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione muttered the question softly, the one Draco knew was coming. "Why?"

Sighing, he turned away from Hermione and glanced over at the kitchen window as well. "Felix Felicis gave me no other choice than to discover Harry in his…particular situation," he said delicately. "I certainly could not leave him, nor did I view it as such an option. It took a great deal not to return to that flat, to make Fletchley pay for what he had done. It was inhumane. I saw a lot of similar situations through the course of the war but…nothing like that," Draco admitted.

"What made you not return to Fletchley?"

"I knew Harry needed me here more than he needed me to avenge him. If I had returned, I would be thrown back into Azkaban. That is not a place one wishes to return to, believe me, Granger."

"But why, Draco? Why did you keep caring for him? You didn't have to heal him yourself, you didn't have to clothe and feed him," Hermione said pointedly.

Draco caught a glimpse of the moon which was peeking out the corner of the window. "No, I didn't, but I knew he would be consumed by reporters anywhere else. I am a certified Healer, I did what was in the best interests of my patient."

"And that's what Harry is? Your patient?" she was attempting to clarify, her voice sounded gentle and without accusation.

"No, he hasn't been my patient for a long time," he confessed. "But I will continue to do what is best for him, as long as he remains in my life."

The honesty of his words seemed to affect Hermione as she sucked in a deep breath, leaning forward on the table closer to Draco. "Why?" she reiterated.

Draco turned to her at last, meeting her with a steady gaze. His confession to Blaise earlier came tumbling to the forefront of his thoughts. With a clear voice, he repeated his earlier words. "Because I love him."

Hermione's eyes went wide but what drew Draco's attention was the two other individuals in the doorway. Ron looked purple in the face as if he forgot how to breathe. Harry, however, sported a heavy blush coupled with a sheer shocked expression. "Draco," he said softly, but was interrupted by Cally who finally finished preparing yesterday's leftovers.

"Master Draco," Cally bowed, setting the plates down at the table.

Draco bit back his own embarrassment and gestured at the food. "Sit, Weasley, help yourselves," he offered. Ron came to sit beside his wife as Harry fell wordlessly beside Draco, unable to take his eyes off of him.

"Malfoy, did I just hear what I bloody think I heard? No, 'Mione, you can't expect me to believe what that ferret just said!" Ron cursed, ignoring his wife's grip on his shoulder in order to still him.

Draco scowled at him. "This is my house, Weasel, and you will not talk to me in that manner while you are a guest in it. And anything I say about Harry is the truth, not that it is any of your business," he snapped.

Once again, Hermione saved them as Harry seemed too speechless still to intervene. "Have you registered your House Elf, yet?"

"One of the other reasons we wished for your company here tonight, actually," Draco began. "Along with registering the House Elf, the masters of the home must also be registered, am I correct?"

"Yes, it's to ensure any illegal actions placed upon House Elves by their employers can be properly investigated," Hermione explained, covertly elbowing her husband who grumbled something to himself before glaring down at his dinner.

"We were hoping," Harry said, apparently finding his voice at last as he reached across the table, grabbing Draco's hand in his own. Hermione's eyes looked down at their hands blushing and Ron glared but said nothing. "That you could register us and Cally so that we could keep our current living situation away from the Prophet."

"You're actually going to keep living with Malfoy? Harry, have you gone bloody mad? I get he's helped you and all but…he was a Death Eater! He wanted you dead!"

"I never wanted such a thing," Draco recanted angrily, suppressing the urge to yell as Harry gripped his hand tighter.

"Well, I can certainly register the three of you, however…they are public files. If any wishes to see them, they can," she said seriously.

"In other words, Fletchley can find me if he tries hard enough," Harry muttered.

"No, I won't allow him to find you. You're safe here, with me," it was Draco's turn to hold tighter onto Harry.

"I know, but he could discover that I live with you. I feel safe here but…what if finds out where you work? What if he tries, I don't know…"

"He won't get to you, that's what's important," Draco reiterated.

With a shared smile, they all finally delved into their meals though Ron did reluctantly. At first the conversation was forced, but eventually Hermione and Ron were revisiting the past two years of their lives – especially that of their children. Harry seemed to be enjoying their company, which pleased Draco but what truly made him comfortable was that Harry refused to remove his hand from his the entire meal.

Night settled in and it wasn't long before it was time to retire. Draco had excused himself to the bathroom only to return to a quiet argument between the Weasley couple as Harry watched amusedly. "I'm not sleeping in Malfoy's house!"

"Ronald, he clearly doesn't wish any harm on either of us. Come on, it's too late to apparate home and Rose is with your mother all night regardless."

"C'mon, it's been years. I'm sure Draco won't mind and I could really use the company tomorrow. I was going to go to town, tomorrow, I still owe Draco a dozen eggs, you could come with me," Harry suggested.

"Oh, bugger, you're going to guilt me into it, aren't you?"

Harry raised his hands in mock defence. "This is not a shelter for wayward Gryffindors," Draco drawled sarcastically, "Your friends are welcome to stay, however, there is the issue that may not have crossed your mind but I have only one guest room which is currently occupied, Harry."

"Er, about that…" Harry started, turning a deep colour red again. "I mean, your bed is certainly big enough for two."

Ron automatically retched. "Urgh, alright so you're with Malfoy, we get it, but bloody hell, mate, we don't need any details!"

"Ronald!" Hermione whispered accusingly for her husband's behaviour but Harry was merely laughing.

Draco had a difficult time keeping his own surprise masked. "If that's what you want, Harry. My home is your home," he repeated and began to turn from the room again. His nerves were beginning to creep on him again. Was there a hidden insinuation in Harry's words, or did he simply want to share a bed because he wanted his friends to remain there? "I have an appointment with Healer Burnie in the morning, so I must retire for the evening. Granger, Weasley," he nodded to both of them, starting from the room.

Retiring to his room, he looked around. His room had often been his sanctuary while he resided at the Malfoy Manor. Even still, it was rare when anybody saw his room. Even before Harry when Draco would entertain overnight guests, both would retire in the guest room. Blaise had never even stepped foot in Draco's room. Harry had, the one early morning as he was wakened by Draco's dream.

'If anybody is to sleep in here, I'm glad it's him,' Draco said to himself, trying to wrangle a handle on his nerves. He was at a loss for what Harry expected. He certainly couldn't want them to be more physical, did he? Even after everything he went through? Draco felt entirely uncertain with how he was expected to proceed but he would allow Harry to continue to lead, and his own instincts as scarce as they were.

By the time he had prepared for the evening and settled into his bed beneath the sheets, he cursed himself. He never had a proper pair of pyjamas and tonight, just like every other night, Draco was underneath his bedclothes wearing merely a pair of briefs. It was, however, too late to change into a pair of trousers as Harry appeared in the room, softly closing the door behind himself. "Are you certain you're okay with this?"

"Yes. Are you?" Draco returned more pointedly.

Harry crossed the room to the bed, lifting his shirt over his head as he did. Draco ran his eyes over Harry's toned torso and immediately wished he hadn't as a deep ripple of arousal shot through him. "I trust you," Harry repeated. "Being with you excites me…I feel safe and…It's nothing like being with him," he explained.

Draco knew he should have turned away, to give Harry privacy, but as Harry reached for his trousers Draco couldn't help but stare as the man stepped out of them. He subconsciously licked his lips causing Harry to chuckle as he crawled into the bed alongside Draco. "You have an appointment with Burnie in the morning," Harry reminded him, "Maybe another night," he suggested.

"No, I wasn't – " Draco was cut off from his defence as Harry laughed again and curled up to Draco's side. It was strange, that Harry seemed more confident than Draco. Draco was lying stiffly on his back as Harry lay his head on his chest, placing an arm across his torso and entangling one of his legs between Draco's.

"Thank you, once again for everything. I didn't realise I missed them as much as I did until I saw them. I need them in my life," Harry whispered, sighing contentedly as Draco loosely placed his arms around him. "I need them just as much as I need you."

It was difficult for Draco to fall asleep that night, but at the steady rise and fall of Harry's breath, he soon followed.