See disclaimer in Chapter 1. The characters belong to JKR, not me.
"What exactly did you give him?" Ron asked, peering over at Harry's slumped form.
Hermione shrugged negligently, chewing her lip as she thought about her next move. She and Teddy were playing a magical version of Clue, and it had come time for her to guess.
"Hermione?"
She brushed away Ron's question, her eyes narrowing as she plotted. She looked up at Teddy, her face a mask of concentration. It was probably wrong to put so much effort into beating a 10-year-old, but he'd won the past two games.
"Harry Potter in the Chamber of Secrets with the Sword of Gryffindor," she said after a long pause, nodding confidently.
Teddy quirked an eyebrow, and Ron laughed at seeing such an adult expression on his face. He was still a year away from starting at Hogwarts, but he was clearly magically and emotionally mature enough to go. Harry and McGonagall had already intervened with Andromeda, begging the woman to let her grandson start in the fall, but she'd steadfastly held her ground. She wanted as much time with Teddy as possible, which meant no going away to school early.
Teddy opened the magically sealed envelope carefully, prolonging Hermione's anguish. He had a pretty good idea what the solution was, and she was off by one important point.
"Aha!" He cried triumphantly when he read the words on the sheet. Hermione grimaced – she'd obviously lost. He handed her the small square of parchment. She groaned at the word that magically appeared, the moment he'd opened the envelope: Wrong.
She stuck her tongue out at Teddy, crossing her arms. She loved playing games with him – he was incredibly smart, and a better opponent than Ron was at almost everything but chess.
"Go on, then," she said, her smile breaking through the solemn look she'd tried to force.
Teddy cleared his throat, straightening his shoulders. He'd definitely inherited Tonks' flair for drama in addition to Remus' brilliant mind.
"Ron Weasley," he enunciated clearly, shooting Hermione a grin, "in the Chamber of Secrets," he paused again, drawing it out even more, "with the Sword of Gryffindor."
Hermione looked down at the square of parchment, laughing when it began to flash the word: Correct.
Harry had originally balked at the idea of a game based around him, but he'd agreed when the manufacturer pledged to donate a quarter of the proceeds to a home for children orphaned in the war. Harry Potter Clue had been the first game, but now nearly a dozen different Harry Potter-themed games graced the shelves of most wizarding toy stores.
"You win, you little monster," she teased, packing the tiny pieces away in the box with her wand. "I still say you cheat."
Teddy's grin widened, but he held his hands out in defense. "How could I possibly cheat?"
Ron ducked down, running a large hand through Teddy's pink hair. The boy had some of his mother's Metamorphagus talents, though it was limited to the ability to change his hair and eye color. They didn't know if he'd be able to shift more as he aged and came into his magical powers or not.
"I heard you whispering with Dumbledore," Ron murmured in his ear, smirking when the boy blushed. "Always meddling, that old man is."
The tiny Dumbledore figure waved his fist in Ron's direction, eliciting giggles from Teddy. He laughed harder when the small Hermione Granger shoved the Ron Weasley figurine, catching it off balance and sending it sprawling to the bottom of the box.
Hermione cast the charm to make the figurines go still before handing the box to Teddy. "No arguing. Time for bed. Head upstairs and I'll be up in a moment to tuck you in.
"Aunt Hermione," Teddy groaned, clutching the box tightly as he stomped up the stairs. "You don't need to tuck me in. I'm not a little boy!"
She laughed, wagging her finger at him. "You're a still a boy to me, Teddy Lupin, and don't you forget it! Now get to bed, and I'll be there soon!"
They could hear him laughing as he disappeared. Ron waited until he heard Teddy's bedroom door shut before he whirled around, his brow furrowed as he spoke sharply to his wife.
"What did you give Harry? He's dead to the world," he said, nodding to the unresponsive man on the sofa.
"Just a little Sleeping Draught," she said with a smirk. Ron raised an eyebrow, and she grinned. "Alright, alright. It was a Calming Draught mixed with Dreamless Sleep. God knows I don't want to be awakened by anymore of his dreams," she said, blushing as she looked away from the sleeping man.
They'd been staying with Harry for the last week, helping him keep within the courtship rules. She didn't know what had gone on a few nights ago, but Harry had stumbled out of the Floo flushed and in better spirits than he'd been in for weeks. The marriage contract he kept on the desk hadn't combusted, however, so she knew whatever they'd gotten up to had been within the letter, if not the intent, of the courtship laws.
Teddy's presence helped calm Harry's nerves, which was why the boy had been at Grimmauld Place all day and was spending the night. Draco wasn't due until the early afternoon the next day, and the Ministry official would be a few hours behind him. Hermione didn't think they had a prayer of keeping Harry in line until then without his godson's help.
"Think he'll sleep all night?" Ron asked, Levitating the dark-haired wizard carefully and directing him upstairs. He didn't want Harry spending the night on the couch.
"No," Hermione said, stifling a yawn. She hadn't been kidding when she'd said Harry's dreams had been waking them. She blushed darker, remembering the past few nights and the sounds she'd heard coming out of his room. "Silencing Charm?"
Ron nodded quickly, feeling his own cheeks heat at the thought of what they'd overheard. It had been incredibly embarrassing and erotic at the same time.
"It'll all be over tomorrow, thank Merlin," he said, waiting for Hermione to pull back the covers on Harry's bed before depositing the sleeping man on the mattress. He pulled Harry's shoes off, stepping back as Hermione Transfigured his clothes into pajamas.
"One can only hope," she muttered, dousing the lights on their way out. She had a feeling things were going to get even more uncomfortable when Harry and Draco could touch each other freely. She just hoped they waited until everyone left before jumping each other tomorrow.
"What are you looking for?" Blaise asked, his lips quirking in amusement as Draco shot around the room, moving cushions and looking under furniture.
"I can't find my wand!" Draco snapped, crossing the room again in a panic.
"Accio Draco's wand," Blaise muttered with an eye roll, holding his hand out to catch the piece of hawthorn that came hurtling toward him. "Honestly, Draco."
The blond glared at Blaise, marching over to snatch his wand from the man's outstretched hand. He'd been irritable for the past few days, since their chaperones – namely Blaise and Hermione – had decided it was inadvisable for Draco and Harry to see each other at all until the day the no-touching ban ended.
"Go say goodbye to Cal," Blaise instructed, shooing the angry wizard out of the room. They had an hour to kill before they could Floo to Harry's house, and he might hex the blond if he stayed underfoot. "I'll go down and get Nev and Daphne."
Draco nodded, striding out of the room without a word. He knew he'd been hard to deal with lately, but he was just so frustrated and excited. A tremor ran through him at the thought of finally getting to hold Harry today. The relief was tempered with anxiety over viewing the Pensieve memories. He knew he had no hope of the Gryffindor forgetting the promise he'd extracted a few nights ago.
"Cal, how about a game of Clue?" He asked as he entered the drawing room, inclining his head formally to his mother as he passed her. "Not the Harry Potter version, Caleum," he groaned, rubbing his face briskly when he saw the game in his son's hands.
Harry might have tackled Draco the second he stepped out of the Floo had it not been for Ron's restraining hand on his bicep. The tight squeeze reminded him where they were and what they had to do. The magic of the ancient spells that forged the courtship and marriage contracts was enhancing the natural attraction and pull he and Draco felt for each other, which meant Harry was nearly jumping out of his skin with need.
"A few more hours," Ron whispered in his ear, his gentle tone a startling contrast to the vice-like grip he had on Harry's arm.
Ron's words, paired with the sight of the stone Pensieve in Blaise's hands, brought Harry back to his senses. He wanted to finish the courtship correctly. They'd be able to sign the contract in just a few hours, and then everything would be fine. First, though, he had to make sure Draco watched his memories.
"Are you ready?" He asked Draco, tentatively holding out a hand to the blond.
Draco swallowed, the need to feel Harry's skin against his own was almost overpowering. Neville's arm tightened around his shoulders, letting him move forward, but restraining him at the same time.
It was almost electric. Harry literally felt like his hand was on fire when his palm grazed Draco's, his magic flaring and gliding along the other wizard's. Despite the shock, it wasn't an unpleasant feeling.
Draco held back a gasp, the white-hot thrill he felt ripple through him bore no resemblance to the mere tingle he'd felt when he'd first touched Patrizia after their courtship ended. But that had been an arranged marriage, and one he wasn't overly interested in to boot. This, though – this was completely different.
Pansy and Daphne both moved closer to each other, holding hands unconsciously. Oliver swung his arm around Pansy's waist pulling her tight against his chest as they watched the two men stare at each other. The purebloods in the room exchanged a significant glance that left Hermione anxious and annoyed. She placed a questioning hand on Ron's shoulder.
"That's –" Ron said quietly, his eyes locked on Harry and Draco, who were still holding hands. The sparks everyone had seen literally fly between their skin, had gone as quickly as they'd begun, but the sight left everyone speechless. He had no idea how to explain it.
"That's not what normally happens," he whispered, his lips grazing her ear as he spoke.
He could tell she had more questions, but Ron just shook his head. He didn't want to break the moment between Harry and Draco. No one did.
Blaise cleared his throat, nudging his shoulder against Draco's. The two men dropped their joined hands, their eyes wide with surprise and arousal.
"Do you want to do this here or somewhere else?" Blaise asked, gesturing with the stone basin in his arms.
Harry studied Draco for a moment, nodding as he came to some sort of silent decision.
"Here," he said, his eyes sweeping over the room. His study was the best choice – comfortable chairs and a low table perfect for placing the Pensieve on. The blazing fire kept the room slightly warmer than comfortable, which would help combat the chill that usually followed viewing violent or upsetting Pensieve memories.
"Just Neville?" He asked, bracing for an angry outburst. They definitely still needed a chaperone – the little show with the sparks confirmed that – but he didn't want everyone to watch as Draco viewed some of the worst moments of his life.
He expected them to argue, especially Ron and Hermione, but the others simply nodded, following Pansy's lead as she retreated to the kitchen. Blaise gave them a grim smile before placing the Pensieve on the table Harry pointed to, and Ron gave his arm a reassuring pat before following everyone else, drawing the study doors shut behind him.
"That was –" Neville shook his head, still shocked by what he'd seen. "That was amazing. I'm privileged to have witnessed it. It's not often you see such a strong reaction to the courtship bond."
Harry smiled, his arm still tingling from the shock. He'd never seen it happen before, but then again, he'd never seen any courting couple pass through to the third stage. It wasn't proper to have unmarried witnesses at the signing of the contract, so he hadn't seen it when it happened for Neville or Oliver.
"The sparks were unusual, then?" He asked, his voice trembling slightly.
"Merlin, yes," Neville answered, laughing slightly uncomfortably.
He could feel the tension radiating off both men, and it had a distinctly sexual feel to it. Plenty of anxiety as well, he could tell, but he had a hunch it was going to be a challenge to keep the two of them apart much longer. He knew Harry's plans though, and he figured the Pensieve memories would help dampen their arousal.
"Shall we?" Neville asked, cocking his head toward the sofa. Harry and Draco could sit next to each other, and he'd take the chair next to it, close enough to intervene if necessary but far enough away to allow them to comfort each other.
"Wait," Draco said, his voice thick. He turned toward Harry, searching out both of his hands. He held them tightly, staring directly in to the concerned green eyes. "You know I've done this before," he said, concentrating hard on not stumbling over the words. It felt important to get it out there. "These memories you want me to see – I assume they're your past. Mine might not be as horrific as yours, but I still think you should know."
Draco swallowed, steeling himself. "Her name is Patrizia Silvano, and she's the youngest daughter of an Italian pureblood family from Venice."
Harry nodded encouragingly, squeezing Draco's hands. He hated that Draco had been married before, but how could he resent something that resulted in Cal? The boy was fast becoming like a son to him.
"We were married a year after our repeated seventh year at Hogwarts," Draco continued, the words coming easier as he saw Harry didn't recoil. The sooner he did this, the sooner they could get on with things. "It was an arranged marriage. Her father contacted my mother, and I agreed. We hoped it might salvage the Malfoy name, but it didn't seem to make much difference."
He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, pressing on. "She's gorgeous. Tall, olive skin, black hair." He laughed. "I never realized she bore a resemblance to you, but she does. I'm grateful for it now though, because Cal could easily pass for your son."
Draco bit his lip, wondering if he should ask Harry what his intentions toward Caleum were. He passed over it, deciding it could wait until after the marriage contract was signed. He'd prefer it if Harry adopted Cal outright, but it wouldn't be the end of the world if he didn't. He knew Harry would likely want to have at least one child of his own, preferably two, to carry on the Potter and Black names. Harry was great with Cal, and Draco didn't doubt he'd show the boy as much love as he did any biological children he might have, even if he didn't legally adopt him.
"Patzie bores easily, and I didn't do enough to keep her entertained," he said, a small smile curving his lips. She'd hated living at Malfoy Manor, hated that Draco preferred quiet nights in to the glittering balls the rest of their social strata loved. "Cal was born in 2002." His smile grew. "His birthday is in September. He'll be six."
Harry nodded, his eyes warming at the mention of Cal. He squeezed their joined hands reassuringly.
"I hadn't intended to have children. I thought it might be best to let the Malfoy name die out with me," Draco said, shrugging lightly. "I still don't know if it was premeditated on her part or not, but after we'd been married a little over a year she announced she was pregnant."
"I was shocked, to say the least," Draco said, remembering his outrage. "After Cal was born, though – well, I wouldn't trade having him in my life for anything."
Harry nodded, taking Draco's words for what they were – a gentle warning that his son would always come first. That was fine with Harry, reassuring even. Draco was a great father. It was one of the things Harry loved most about him.
"He had me wrapped around his finger from birth," Draco admitted, grinning fondly. "I swore to do whatever was necessary to protect him. That included forcing everyone who knew about him to swear an Unbreakable Vow not to speak of him to anyone who didn't know," Draco said, breaking his gaze away from Harry to smile apologetically at Neville.
"We all did so willingly," Neville said softly, shaking his head to wave away Draco's apology.
"You may have, but Patrizia didn't feel the same way," Draco said with a grimace. "The life-in-exile bit got old for Patzie pretty quickly. She hated being cloistered in the chateau, which is where I insisted Cal be raised. She hated living with mother. She hated that I refused to go out at all anymore, other than to work and a few absolutely necessary social functions."
He shook his head ruefully, finally removed enough from the memories to feel sorry for his ex-wife. She'd married him hoping for an exciting life filled with luxury and entertainment, and she'd ended up saddled with a baby and a disinterested husband.
"We divorced in 2005. January," he said with a grim smile. "Start the New Year off right, she'd said."
He shook his head, clearing away the memory. "I haven't seen or heard from her since. She's under a stringent Unbreakable Vow that prevents her from talking about anything other than our first year of marriage. Nothing after Cal was born. She can't speak of the chateau, either."
Harry's mouth dropped open in shock. How could she just walk away from Cal? The boy was perfect. His heart broke for the worry and pain his mother's abandonment must still cause him.
"But, Cal?"
Draco shook his head and he heard Neville huff out an angry breath behind him. None of their friends understood how Patrizia could just walk away and never look back, but Draco had come to view it as a blessing in disguise.
"She signed away all her parental rights with the divorce," Draco said with a sigh. "I bought her silence with a hefty settlement, and she was free to pursue the life she'd thought she was getting when she married me. It's probably for the best."
Harry's green eyes blazed, and he gripped Draco's hands almost painfully.
"Her loss," he said clearly, his muscles tense. "My gain."
Draco smiled, and Harry was blown away by the love and relief he saw in the blond's usually closed-off expression.
"My turn at show and tell, then?" Harry asked, trying to lighten the mood a bit before plunging them into his memories of war and death.
Draco blew out a breath, laughing. He let Harry lead him to the sofa, pulling a small vial of swirling silver mist out of his pocket. He shared a look with Harry, nodding resolutely before uncorking the vial and tipping it into the basin.
The silvery liquid shimmered and rippled, a soft sparkling mist rising up out of the basin. Draco knew what he saw when he dove into the memories would likely terrify him. He was positive though, that whatever it was, whatever these dark secrets Harry had chosen to share with him, and not the rest of the world, it wouldn't change the way he felt about Harry.
"Let's go," he said, borrowing some of Harry's Gryffindor bravery and plunging his head into the basin.
Harry gave Neville a bleak smile before joining Draco in the Pensieve. It hadn't been his intent to view them alongside the other wizard when he'd extracted them, but he could see now it was the best way. He'd be able to answer Draco's questions along the way, and offer support to help him get through the worst of it.
Neville settled into his chair as Harry's body slumped over the Pensieve. The two men were entwined, their bodies touching from thigh to chest, their hands still tightly gripping each other's. Unlike everyone else, Neville had a very good idea of what they'd be watching. He'd been Harry's outlet over the years, the one the dark-haired wizard came to when things got to be too much, or when he couldn't deal with the nightmares and memories.
He waited until he was sure they were both in the trance-like state before rising, digging through the bag he'd brought with him for Calming Draughts and a slew of other potions. If they were watching what he thought they were, they were going to need them.
Harry found Draco stooped inside his old cupboard under the stairs, looking around in confusion.
"My room," Harry said simply, ducking back out and into the corridor. It had been cramped when he was a child, but it was nearly impossible to fit comfortably in there now.
Draco followed, but paused at the door, his horrified gaze locked on the stained mattress in the far corner, the single, bare bulb hanging from the sloping, cobweb-covered ceiling and the neat row of cleaning supplies stacked against the wall.
"You lived in there?" Draco asked, his voice incredulous. He wouldn't let a house-elf live in those conditions, let alone a little boy.
He backed out of the cupboard entirely, casting his gaze around the rest of the house. It looked nice enough. Small, but clean. There was no evidence that the family who lived there wouldn't be able to properly care for a child.
"Until my eleventh birthday," Harry murmured, and he could tell from his expression that Draco was imagining Cal living in conditions like those.
"Moving on?" Harry said quietly, grabbing Draco's hand.
The smoky world around them swirled, the cool mist solidifying into a familiar Hogwarts scene. They were standing on a moving staircase, which deposited them in front of a large, scarred door.
Harry squeezed Draco's arm reassuringly before pushing the door open. He didn't flinch when a huge three-headed dog began to bark.
"First year, the Philosopher's Stone," he said, going on to explain the horrors he'd faced as a boy of eleven with no one but his two best friends at his side, the first of several encounters with Voldemort Harry had placed in the vial.
" – so you see, it's not alarming, so much as it was just surprising," Daphne said, waving her arms vaguely as she spoke.
They'd been trying to explain the rules of courtship to Hermione for the last ten minutes, but she was still struggling to grasp everything.
"But sparks? Real sparks?" Hermione shook her head, unwilling to believe what she'd seen.
"Not common, but it happens," Oliver said, his arm still around his wife. "Pans and I felt a tingle, but nothing everyone else could see."
"It felt like a shock for me," Daphne offered. "My mum warned me, so I was ready for it. No one told Nev, though, and he actually yelped when it happened."
She grinned, rolling her eyes.
Hermione frowned, looking down at the hand that rested in Ron's.
"We didn't court," Ron said softly, knowing what his wife was worried about.
"They signed the contract with more than just ink," Oliver said, referring to the binding paperwork that signaled a couple's intention to court. Harry and Draco would complete it by signing the marriage contract later in the day. "They left an echo of their magical signatures on the parchment as well. What happened today was their magic recognizing each other. It's a good sign."
Ron nodded. "Mum said Gin and Theo felt an instant connection, too. It's how she knew Theo was serious."
"Exactly," Daphne said, settling onto a stool at the kitchen island. "Can we eat? I'm starving."
Four sets of eyes stared incredulously as Daphne used her wand to Summon a jar of peanut butter and some crackers from Harry's pantry.
"What?" She asked, swallowing a sticky mouthful of peanut butter. "I'm pregnant. The baby doesn't care what's going on in there," she said, cocking her head toward the study. "She's hungry."
Pansy blinked, a huge smile splitting her face. "She?"
Daphne nodded, smiling as she popped another cracker in her mouth.
"Oh Daph, that's wonderful news!" Hermione gushed, forgetting her concern over what was playing out in the other room as she and Pansy rushed forward for more details.
Draco shuddered, and Harry wondered if it was possible to vomit in a Pensieve memory. He thought he was likely to find out soon.
"These H-Horcruxes," Draco stammered, his eyes still locked on the rock where memory Ron had destroyed the locket only moments before, "That's – why – how –"
Draco shivered and Harry wrapped his arms around him, transporting them to the next memory. It was no less traumatic, but he figured a change of scenery might shock some sense back into the blond.
"How could he do that? What was he thinking?"
Harry watched himself hiding from Death Eaters in Luna's house with almost absent curiosity. He pulled his gaze away, blinking in surprise at Draco's question.
"Well, he was insane," he said slowly, wondering why Draco was questioning Voldemort's motivations.
"No, Dumbledore," Draco snapped, angry color flooding his cheeks, chasing away the deathly pallor.
"I don't understand," Harry said, his brow furrowed. He heard the ceiling collapse around them, stepping back so he could make out Draco's words.
"You were just a child," Draco spat, his eyes flashing. "You shouldn't have had this pushed on you. Children, all three of you!"
Harry smiled grimly, shrugging. "It was the only path he saw," he said softly, gripping Draco's hand when the scene swirled around them again. Neither took any notice of the new memory, their attention focused on each other.
"You were a just child sixth year," Harry said, hating the way Draco stiffened at the words.
They'd already viewed that memory, though Draco took no solace from the knowledge that Harry had been there as well. He already knew Dumbledore had been dying, and that he'd asked Sev to kill him so Draco didn't have to. It was one of the first conversations he'd had with his godfather after his portrait woke.
"That was different," Draco hissed, shaking Harry's grip off. He didn't want to be touching him when he talked about his involvement with Voldemort. It made him feel dirty. "He was a sadistic bastard who didn't care what happened to his servants. Dumbledore was supposed to be protecting you!"
Harry shrugged, snatching Draco's hand back. He tightened his hold when the blond tried to squirm away.
"We were both pawns of powerful men, Draco," he said quietly. He saw Draco gasp when he recognized the interior of Malfoy Manor as the memory world swirled around them again. "Neither of us chose the path we took. We were both forced. I accepted my role, though. I've made peace with it, as much as that's possible."
Draco nodded woodenly, watching as memory Harry grabbed a house-elf and disappeared. He cringed as he remembered what happened next – what Harry didn't know. The horrendous torture they'd all suffered for letting Harry Potter escape.
He'd never accepted what had happened, he realized. He'd pushed it all behind him, refusing to deal with it. He'd used Dreamless Sleep until the nightmares had ended. He'd honed his Occlumency skills until he could even shield memories from himself. But he hadn't confronted them. Not like this.
"I'm sorry, Draco," Harry whispered, pulling him closer. The scene dissolved again, and Draco flinched as he saw Harry and his friends battling against a dragon, marveling – even through his horror – that they'd managed to ride it.
They were silent through a memory of a dingy pub in Hogsmeade. Draco closed his eyes when the memory shifted again; unable to watch one of his closest friends die again.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered again, his lips against Draco's ear. "God, Draco, I'm sorry. I wish this wasn't necessary. I'm sorry."
Though he hadn't thought it possible, things got worse. Draco watched, his stomach plummeting with each passing second, as Harry replayed the rest of the Battle of Hogwarts in precise, horrifying, sickening detail. All through it, Harry repeated his litany of apology, repeating the words over and over until they were nearly a meaningless hum in the background.
Neville checked his watch again, wondering how much longer the two wizards would be unconscious. They'd been gone more than an hour, and the Ministry official was due any minute. Their movements had gotten more frantic, so Neville figured they must be near the end. He shivered despite the warm room, drawing his robes around himself tightly.
"Mother?" Draco whispered, his throat raw from crying and screaming.
Harry simply nodded, letting Draco watch the events as they transpired.
"A life debt," Draco said flatly, his gaze trained on Harry's lifeless body in Hagrid's arms. "You testified for us because of a life debt."
"No," Harry whispered, the barely audible word full of misery and despair.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, smiling uncomfortably. Harry and Draco were fifteen minutes late, and everyone was getting restless. "More tea?"
"No, thank you," Kingsley said, crossing his legs as he settled into the comfortable sofa. He'd arrived a little early, thinking the two young men would be anxious to sign the contract and get started on the next phase of their lives. Harry hadn't told anyone Kingsley would be the one to administer the contract, but no one had been terribly surprised when he'd turned up. It would ensure the privacy Harry and Draco needed, since they knew they could count on Kingsley to keep a secret.
"Minister Shacklebolt, I apologize," Neville said, startling everyone. No one had heard him slip into the drawing room. "Harry and Draco will join you shortly. They've been delayed, but it shouldn't be much longer."
Kingsley nodded, wondering what was going on. Knowing Harry, the man was doing his best to convince Draco not to marry him. He shook his head. He loved Harry like a son, but the man had such an infuriatingly black and white sense of right and wrong. He'd cut off his own leg before letting someone he loved make a mistake, and Kingsley was sure Harry was outlining all of the possible negative consequences of a union between himself and Draco. Of course, that was just Harry. Idiot, he thought fondly.
Draco gulped the potion Neville handed him, sighing in relief as the cool liquid soothed his raw throat and settled his roiling stomach. Another calmed his jangled nerves, and yet another relieved his throbbing headache.
Finally feeling more like himself, Draco opened his eyes, gasping in shock when he realized Harry was hovering over him, his green eyes wide with worry and – shame? What did Harry have to be ashamed of? He hadn't been the one to do anything wrong. He hadn't tried to kill Dumbledore. He hadn't served the Dark Lord, no matter how forced the service was.
"Draco?" Harry looked absolutely ragged, his normally tanned skin chalky. "Draco, I'm so sorry. God, I'm sorry! I didn't realize it would be that hard – I didn't think – I shouldn't have –"
Draco swallowed, unsure of what to say. Neville grabbed Harry by the robes, forcing him back onto the sofa while he tipped a vial of potion up to his lips.
"Drink," Neville said, his voice harsher than Draco had ever heard it. He saw Harry fight against Neville's grip, but the other man was stronger. "Don't be an idiot. Drink."
Harry's lips parted, and he swallowed dutifully. Neville reached behind him, two more vials in his hand. "Again," he said, pushing the vial against Harry's lips. "One more," he said, tipping the contents of the last vial into Harry's mouth.
Neville released Harry, letting the other man fall heavily back against the cushions.
"Listen up," he said, his voice still hard. "I could leave you to do this on your own, but it will likely take forever and the Minister is already waiting for you."
Draco's brow furrowed in surprise. The Minister was administering their oath and overseeing the contract? He looked at Harry, shaking his head. Of course he was. It was Harry bloody Potter, after all.
"Don't," Neville said, the warning clear in his voice. "Harry, stop beating yourself up. You were right. Draco needed to know those things about you. He needed to see you do have a darker side, since he's going to be the one to help you when you need someone to lean on when you get overwhelmed."
Draco blinked. Harry got overwhelmed?
"Draco, you're angry you had to find out about your mother that way, but it's for the best. You needed to see it. And you need to trust that Harry didn't show you to gain the upper hand. He hasn't mentioned it to anyone but me, and I doubt Narcissa has either. She's already canceled the life debt," Neville continued, allowing himself a satisfied smile when Draco stiffened. Just as he'd thought – the bloody wanker was worried Harry had gone through with the courtship to satisfy the life debt. "She did it before he testified even, so forget that too."
Draco let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, looking from Neville to Harry. The other man looked much better than he had a few moments before, but still decidedly sick.
"You love each other, and nothing you could find out about one another would change that," Neville said, gesturing between the two of them. "You've had a contentious relationship for years, and you're worried some of that old animosity might resurface after the contract is signed. It won't."
He nodded toward Draco. "Draco, you have changed. The fact that I count you among my closest friends proves that."
"Harry," he continued, nodding at the other wizard. "You've been searching for a relationship like this for your entire life. Just enjoy it. You do deserve it."
Neville waited for either man to protest, but they remained silent. He grinned triumphantly. He'd just averted a day or two long fight in under two minutes.
"The Minister is in the drawing room. Are you ready?"
Draco looked over at Harry, a tentative smile lighting his face. He saw Harry exhale then beamed as the other man's lips curved as well.
"Gryffin?" he asked, standing and holding a hand out to Harry.
"Sly," Harry answered, twining their fingers and letting Draco pull him to his feet.
Neville walked behind them, his smile brighter than anyone's.
TBC