Warning: There is mention of sexual activity in this chapter.

Draco gave me a rushed tour of Malfoy Manor, separating the house by floor and then by wing. Many of the sections he bypassed, telling me only that the rooms were of no interest or not currently being used. Two sections he bypassed, explaining that they belonged to his parents. The sections he actually took me to amounted to a number of common areas, such as the drawing room, the library, the dining room, the drawing room, the sitting room, and the tea room. I wasn't quite sure what the difference between the last three was, other than the tea room contained a small table. Then the tour ended with Draco's wing of the Manor, which was as big as an average sized house all on its own. I quickly found myself in the antechamber to Draco's bedroom, sitting on an argyle patterned sofa.

Draco sat down next to me and began looking at me, like he was trying to memorize my face. I stared back at him, taking in his features and how subtly he'd changed in the last year. There was silence for a good long while as his smile slowly grew until he was beaming at me.

Then he squeezed my hand and I wasn't sure what he wanted. My mind racing, I blurted out the first thing that came to me. "Um, are you…er?" I asked, the word catching in my throat.

"Er, what?" he asked, smiling at me indulgently. I'd never seen that look on his face before.

"Pregnant," I blurted out.

"Pregnant? Why would I be pregnant?" he asked with his sneer. It'd been so long since I'd seen him sneer, that I actually felt fondness for the expression.

"Because I died. The second-time Voldemort killed me, it bounced off me and killed him, but the first time, I died," I revealed. It was only the ineptitude of Peter Pettigrew pronouncing me dead that saved me.

"You didn't die. My potion protected you. That's why you didn't die," he replied.

"But I left my body and went to King's Cross Station with Dumbledore," I persisted.

"You were unconscious, that's all. I saw it. You were never dead. There's no way the potion would make me pregnant, just because you were unconscious for a few minutes," he said.

"Are you sure? What if it's too soon to tell?" I persisted.

"I think I would be able to tell, but if you wish, you could do the test. I'll allow it," he replied.

"I don't know it," I admitted.

He huffed. "Well I don't know either and I'm not asking my mother to do it; she'll tell my father."

"I think it's too soon to do the spell. I think we have to wait a week from conception at least," I said.

"Then why are you pestering me now?" he asked exasperated. "Why don't we wait until it's been a week?"

"Fine," I conceded.

"Fine," he seconded.

There was silence again and the annoyance slowly faded from his features. Then he added with a shy smile, "I told you, I've been waiting for you to come home for that."

I kissed him then. It was soft and hesitant, because I didn't know how he'd take it. I'd never kissed him before. I didn't know how he planned on making that baby. Would he let me put it in him? Or would it be tubes and flasks? What sort of marriage was he planning? What sort of marriage would an asexual person want? I knew he wanted romance, but I didn't know what romance without sex was like. How far would he be willing to go?

But then he kissed me back, taking control and dominating my mouth with his tongue. He molded his lips to mine and made me breathless with desire for him. I felt unsteady on my feet, as all the blood in my body rushed to my lips and my cock.

When I broke away for air, he was gasping too. That was a good sign, wasn't it? That he was kissing me and into it? There would at least be kissing in our marriage.

In between deep lungfuls, I asked, "Why didn't you come for me sooner? Why'd you leave me waiting out there all day?"

"You needed the time to bond with my father. It's only a start on getting over your differences, but it's a good start," he answered breathily.

It was more of his absurd psychic reasoning. I was used to it from him, but I wasn't satisfied. "You know, you really had me worried. I was beginning to think you were back to your pre-Howler from Snape self," I said.

"It's easier not to be an arsehole when you're not living together and not seeing each other all the time. I only had to be on my best behavior during our little chats. But I saw you coming home and expecting me to be like that all the time. I saw the fights that would follow. I'm sorry I had to ignore you, but it solved two problems: it got you and my father on the right track and it reminded you that I'm far from perfect. The fights won't be so bad now."

I didn't like it, but I excepted his explanation. It was basically his way of letting me know that although he was trying not to be an arse, deep down he was still a git. I'd fallen in love with that git. I kissed him again. Again, we snogged until we were breathless. This time, when we broke apart, I said, "I need you to stop me if I go too far. You can set the pace. I'll do whatever you want. If you're never ready…for that…I understand."

He turned away and spoke softly, "I'm a lot better. I want it. I just don't know how to do it."

I felt my cheeks hurting as my smile grew even bigger. This was the best news I could hope for. My year of trying had paid off. Maybe I had slipped a little, but even in my wildest dreams, I kept it consensual, always slow and gentle and letting him lead after making him verbally confirm he wanted it. And now he was healing.

"You haven't see anything bad?" I asked, to make sure.

He shook his head. "Nothing since you broke my ribs. That was the last of it. I don't know what I was thinking before. Ever since I left you, I've done nothing but miss you and dream about you coming home to me someday. I want to be your husband and not just in name. I can see us together. I just can't see how we get there..."

"It's okay. I'm new at it too…There is something I need to ask you, though…" I trailed off. I was hesitant, because this was such a sensitive subject.

"What?" he prodded.

"The rape. I need to know how it happened, so I can make sure it never happens. This isn't going to be like the bathroom. It doesn't have to happen and it's not going to," I insisted.

He looked away. "It already isn't going to happen anymore. You decided not to do it in sixth year." His voice was small and he crossed his arms over his chest, hugging himself for comfort.

I wrapped my arms around him, sensing he needed it and said, "I know this is hard, but if we are going to be married, I need to know the details, so I can make sure it never happens. Even if the rape itself no longer happens, I still don't want anything remotely reminiscent happening either. Do you know where it happened?"

"No…well yes, I think. It might've been in my old bedroom. I switched bedrooms, so I wouldn't have to be reminded."

Only the Malfoys had a big enough house that they could just stop using one room, but I was glad he no longer slept in the room where he'd seen me hurting him.

"Good. And how did it start? Were we fighting?" I asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know what starts it. I'm just there and you come in, vanish my clothes, and pin me to the bed. My wrists…above my head…you're holding them tight with both your hands and your body is on top of me, heavy on my chest, pinning me down," he blurted out in a panicked rush, hands pressed against his own chest. Then he took a deep breath and spoke in a calmer voice. "But you don't do it anymore."

"I decided a long time ago that I'm never going to push you or do anything like that. You're going to take the lead, every time, so nothing like that ever happens," I replied, trying to catch his eye, but he wouldn't make eye contact.

He nodded and whispered, "You sit on my cock."

"Well then cowgirl is out," I insisted. "There are plenty of other positions. We'll figure it out together. We'll go only as far as you're ready for and I'm not going to force you to do any-"

He cut me off in the middle of my promise. "I know. Harry, there's something else I need to tell you first," he said.

"Yes?" I asked eagerly, hoping he was about to tell me something good, like that he'd finally started getting erections again.

"Do you remember that book with anti-domestic violence charms?" he asked, taking a peak at my face, before turning away again.

"Yes. What about it?"

"I used some of the spells from that book. That's why I can't heal when you hurt me. It's a charm, to make you see the damage you inflict and realize what you are doing to me. I got a little desperate back in fifth year and couldn't take it anymore," he revealed, finally looking at me.

"Oh?" I asked, brow furrowed as I processed the information. He had deceived me, but it was worth it to be married to him. I was still so happy that one little lie wasn't going to ruin it.

"And I cast one to make my injuries at your hands more severe than they otherwise would be. With each attack, the injuries worsen," he continued.

"That's okay, because I'm never going to attack you again. Unless it's with kisses, that is," I said, leaning in to do just that.

He pushed me away. "And I cast the one that prevents my blood from clotting when you make me bleed. I don't know why, but the charm worked equally on you and the Dark Lord. I had to cast that one, or I would have ended up a Death Eater," he explained.

"My blood was in his veins and he marked me as his equal. There was a little bit of him inside me. It's dead now. You don't have to worry about him ever again," I reassured.

"You aren't getting it!" he yelled, eyes focused on me now. "I did it all to myself! I'm the reason I almost died all those times, not you! Not even him! I cast those charms and I tricked you into marrying me! I don't deserve you!"

I took his hands in mine and pulled him into me. I wrapped my arms around him, hugging his body against my own. "But I deserve you. I won the war, just like you said I would and now I want my husband back. I love you, Draco Malfoy. I would've married you, if you had asked. I'd marry you again, right now!" I proclaimed.

"And sex?" he asked.

I leaned in and kissed him. "I want sex from you; that's never going to change. But I don't need sex from anyone. I can wait forever for that, as long as I have you," I insisted.

"I seem to recall a vision of sticky fingers," he said.

"You started that one. If you can have sticky fingers up your bum, then you should be putting those sticky fingers up mine too," I said playfully.

"Why do you want to bottom so badly? I can't top," he said with a groan.

I paused and thought about it. I eventually answered, "I just thought that I was supposed to bottom for you. You're bigger."

He shook his head. "I can see it, but only just…" he trailed off.

"And?" I asked.

"And your cock is inside me," he said looking away, refusing to make eye contact as he said it.

"You want that?" I asked, brow furrowing in concentration.

"It's not rape," he answered.

"But do you actually want it, or are you just suggesting it, because you feel pressured now that we're married?" I pressed.

"I want it," he admitted.

I growled in my excitement, hands groping up and down his body. I didn't care if he wanted to bottom, as long as it was sex. I just didn't want him getting hurt or being emotionally scarred.

I began rocking into him in my frenzy, nipping at his lips and slipping my hands under his clothes. But I didn't push him. He wasn't hard and I wasn't about to take this further until he was ready.

I was about ready to cum in my pants, when he pushed me away and pulled off his shirt. His pale chest was flushed and heaving for breath. I gulped down air too and copied him, removing my own shirt.

He pressed a hand to my heart, tracing the scar from Voldemort's locket. "What happened?" he asked.

"Just a burn. I'll tell you all about it later. How's your…" I trailed off, fingers tracing the metal plate screwed into his rib.

"Healed, finally."

"Completely?" I asked, wondering if his ribs were still delicate.

He nodded and reached for the zip of my trousers. I figured that meant I didn't need to be extra careful with him, but I still felt like treating him as if those ribs were delicate. All those anti-domestic violence charms were still in place, as far as I knew, and I was not going to ever risk hurting him again.

I let him work my fly open, kissing and sucking his neck. As my trousers fell down my slender hips, I requested, "Now take yours off too."

He turned an even brighter red, but reached for his buttons with fumbling hands. His hands shook as they struggled with button after button. It took so long that I secretly vowed to buy him Muggle trousers, to make it go faster next time, but I didn't rush him.

Then his trousers fell down his long legs and he stepped out of them. I kicked out of mine and closed the distance between us, pressing my crotch to his. He had more meat there than I did, but his was soft, while mine was hard and pounding.

"You still haven't got an erection?" I asked.

He shook his head, a sad look on his face, and whispered, "No."

"It's all right. We can keep kissing until you do," I said, pushing onto my tiptoes to reach his lips.

He turned his head away and murmured, "Then we'll never get to the sex. I'm soft in the vision. Is that…okay?"

He sounded so unsure. I pulled him tight against me. "Only if it's okay with you. You're doing this, not me. I'm going to wait until you're ready," I insisted.

"You're going to cum in your pants and fall asleep, before I'm ready," he warned.

"Then I'll be refreshed when you wake me. We don't need to do it today. I will wait for you," I promised. "I don't care if I have to wait years; I will wait."

He nodded, letting his lips lower until they were once again within my reach. I kissed him and he kissed me back. I began rocking into him again, our pants still between us, his flesh flaccid. Then he reached a timid hand down between us, venturing into my pants. That was all it took for me and then it was over.

He giggled, of all things, pulling out his fingers to look at them.

"If you put them in your bum, I'm going to want some in my bum too," I warned.

He laughed and then licked them. "I've been craving more of that potion," he explained, in between licks and giggles.

"I haven't," I admitted. I'd never craved the taste of a potion in my life.

"Well yours probably tasted like salty gelatin. Mine tasted like you," he said.

"Mine did taste like salt-flavored gelatin. What do I taste like?"

He shrugged and answered, "The way you smell."

I yawned.

"See, I told you that you were tired," he said.

"Only because I screamed myself hoarse for you yesterday and then stayed up half the night waiting for you," I replied.

"Come to bed with me. I want to cuddle. We can figure sex out when we wake," he said, pulling me towards his bed.

I didn't need to be told twice. I went. I cuddled. I fell asleep in his arms, the way I'd dreamt so many nights during the war.

Author's Note: There's a lot in this one. It's a big transition between friends and married and Draco has had a lot of time to grow and heal. How did I do with it? Please Review!