November 2002

It was supposed to be a normal day. Just a casual stroll into town for a lunch together on a pleasant Saturday. For once it was nice outside, despite being the middle of November. We were walking through the middle of London, on our way to a nice little nook we had found over the summer. Again, it was supposed to be a lovely Saturday lunch. We walked side by side down the sidewalk. We had learned to not hold hands in public, though we still walked close together. I don't remember what we were talking about at the time. It surely wasn't important. We were just minding our own business. We were about halfway there when Harry suddenly looked up, stared ahead, and smirked to himself. He didn't say anything at first. As we approached a bus stop, he stopped us and turned toward an older couple that were waiting for their bus. I cast him a curious glance as he suddenly started talking to them.

"Hello, how have you two been?" He asked them.

The man tensed and cast a withering glance toward Harry. "What are you doing 'round these parts, boy?"

Only then did it dawn on me that Harry somehow knew these people. They appeared to be muggles. The woman beside the man had an incredibly long face, not unlike a horse. She curled her lip at Harry, "You just had to come and bother us on our holiday, didn't you?"

"I live here actually. If anything, I should be accusing you of trying to ruin my weekend."

"Always shifting the blame onto others. Clearly some things never change." The woman commented dryly. She cast a look at me then, trying to assess who I was and why I was hearing their conversation. I had not spoken a word, but she appeared to already dislike me.

"Oh," Harry said as he noticed her glance my way, "Petunia, Vernon, this is my boyfriend, Draco. Draco, this is my aunt and uncle."

Both of them reeled when he said the word boyfriend. They looked completely repulsed. Petunia rolled her eyes slightly, though I couldn't figure out why she would. I had heard him mention his aunt and uncle briefly in the past, explaining that that was who he lived with his whole life. He had vaguely mentioned they were rotten people. Standing there, being looked upon as if I were scum by them, made it clear that he had not been exaggerating.

"Where's Dudley?" Harry asked to break the growing silence.

"As if you care," Vernon scoffed. "You're just aching to torture him with your tricks, aren't you?"

"Hardly. I was simply asking a question."

"For your information," Petunia chimed in, "He's teaching just over in Becontree."

"Really? Teaching?" Harry was clearly surprised.

"Yes, is it so hard to believe?" She scoffed.

"No, just surprising is all. Tell him I hope he's doing well."

"We'll do no such thing. He's happier without you in his life," Petunia hissed.

"Pretty sure I wasn't the one worsening his quality of life," Harry said defensively.

"Like hell you weren't," Vernon scoffed, "Having your freaky friends give him a pig's tail and making him eat sweets that made his tongue the size of a car. All in a day's work for Harry Potter, of course. He hasn't had a good day until he's made someone else miserable."

It was obvious to me that Harry was getting very agitated by their unkind words. A muscle near his eye twitched when Vernon spoke. He looked ready to spit fire. I took the opportunity to interject, "You know, it's been lovely to meet you two, but I'm afraid we must be going. I'm sure you have to be on your way anyway. Have a lovely holiday." I rested a hand on Harry's shoulder and moved us away from them. They said no parting words to us. I don't believe they even watched us go. I'm certain they just stood there and continued to wait for their bus. We walked a few meters away before we spoke again.

"Care to explain what that was all about?" I asked.

"Remember how I told you my aunt and uncle were terrible to me? I wasn't joking."

"I didn't realize they were so bad. You said they were terrible muggles. I just assumed that they were as stupid as all the other muggles."

"No, they're a special breed of awful," Harry explained with a sigh.

"What exactly did they do to you?"

"Let's wait til we're at lunch. I'm going to need a beer to talk about it."

I nodded and patiently waited as we walked on in relative silence. We finally sat down in our preferred booth in the back of the muggle pub we frequented. Nobody bothered to take our order, they knew we always got the same thing. A young blonde woman brought Harry a beer and winked at him. She was new here. Harry wouldn't dissuade her until she tried to push her number into his hand. The first time it had happened it had lead to a long conversation with Harry about what telephones and phone numbers were. Since then, it had happened on at least three different occasions. Once the woman left us alone, he took a sip from his bottle, and put it down in front of himself with a sigh. I didn't speak. I knew he would tell me sooner or later.

"When my mum died to save me from Tom," He murmured softly to not be overheard, "It protected me immediately, which is why the killing curse didn't work on me. Old magic. Dumbledore reasoned that putting me with my maternal family would extend that protection to me. Unfortunately, all of my grandparents died beforehand and I ended up living with my mother's sister, Petunia, and her husband and son. I wanted to live with the Weasleys for years, but Dumbledore knew I had to call it home for the protection to continue. The enchantment was broken once I became of age, hence why the Order protected me while I was under the trace and we tried to flee."

"So you were forced to live with those people?"

He took a swig of beer before replying, "Yes."

"What did they do to you?"

He sighed, "It's not like they beat me or anything. I recognize that I haven't had it as bad as many others have. But they certainly weren't loving family members. Dudley bullied me a lot and they more or less encouraged him to do it. I didn't really own anything of my own, everything was a hand me down from Dudley. That's all besides the fact that they rarely fed me and literally shoved me in a closet."

"You're fucking kidding. You lived in a closet?"

"A closet under the stairs, yes."

"I mean, I remember Ron mentioning it but I assumed he didn't mean it literally." I explained with a sigh. The waitress came back and put our food down. She put another bottle of beer down for Harry with another wink and said, "It's on the house." I rolled my eyes at this, but otherwise ignored it. She carried on, but I found myself unable to eat my food. How could I eat when all I could think about was the fact that the love of my life had spent the better part of his childhood in a closet while I had been spoiled. I suddenly remembered the day we first arrived at Hogwarts, how he had rejected me. My memory of it was very clear:

Everyone had been talking about it on the train. Sure enough, Harry Potter was in our class. I stood at the top of the steps before the Great Hall and glanced around, ignoring the stern witch's speech. I spotted him quickly. His hair was conveniently parted to show his scar. I wondered if he was trying to get attention with it. He probably was. I knew I would if I were him. As soon as the witch left us there on the stairs I confronted him. He was the most notorious kid in the room. If I was his friend, there was no telling what we might accomplish together. He certainly would better my reputation more than Crabbe or Goyle could. But the damn Weasley kid interrupted me with his snickering, so I put him in his place. I hated those gingers. The whole lot of them were nothing but blood traitors according to my father. But when I looked back at Harry his curiosity had shifted into something colder.

"I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself thanks."

Never in my life had anyone turned me down so callously. I would make him regret not choosing me. I would make him feel the same kind of humiliation I had felt when he had turned me down.

But with this new information I was able to understand it from a different lens. This boy was not the big headed idol with a famous name I had assumed him to be. He was a boy who had never known magic until then, despite his legacy. This was a boy who had been pestered for ten years with family that hated him. He had grown up without much love. No doubt getting to go to Hogwarts was a dream come true for him, not simply an expected part of his life like it was for me. In the very least, it was a way to escape his horrendous family. At best, it was an opportunity for him to be happy. And what did I do to convince this boy to like me, to be my friend? Insult another boy in front of him. In front of Harry Potter, who had been at the receiving end more times than he would probably admit to. Of course he had rejected me. To him I was surely a stuck up brat who was rude and not worth his time.

"Draco?" He asked curiously.

I blinked and regained a sense of my surroundings. His food was half gone. His first beer empty and his second one was half empty. I stared down at my food, unable to look at him now. It was probably cold. I didn't want it anymore. I gently nudged it aside.

"Everything okay?" He asked gently, sensing something was dramatically different.

"What was your cousin like?"

"Dudley? Oh, he was a pretty nasty bloke when we were growing up. He and his friends tossed me around like a punching bag a lot. Once in awhile I got back at them with my magic, unintentionally of course. I once trapped Dudley in a zoo exhibit." I could practically hear the smile in his voice, though I couldn't see it. "He got better as he got older though, especially after I saved him from a dementor."

"You what?"

"I forget that there are things you don't know about my life," He commented, "Yeah. I nearly got expelled for casting the patronus charm, but Dumbledore helped me get out of it. That was just before fifth year. Dudley was much better after that. Went so far as to say something halfway decent to me when we left the house." He sighed softly before continuing on with his meal. He didn't tell me to eat mine, correctly assuming I wouldn't eat it even if he wanted me to.

I still couldn't look at him just yet. My face was burning. "I must have reminded you of him when we first met."

"What?"

"At Hogwarts," I clarified needlessly.

"I mean, yeah, quite a bit actually. You were a stereotypical school bully."

It hurt to hear, but I knew it was the truth. I glanced over and saw the waitress glancing our way. When she realized I had caught her looking, her eyes widened and she quickly looked away and scurried out of sight. She was going to leave her number for him, most likely. Even in the muggle world he got all of the attention.

"Alright, fess up," Harry sighed.

"To what?" I asked.

"Tell me what's wrong." It was not a question.

"I finally understand why you hated me so much."

"Was it really that hard to figure out?" He asked, nudging his empty plate out of the way as he leaned forward on the table toward me. The waitress seemed to reappear from thin air and picked up our plates for us, boxing my untouched food up for me. She left the bills on the table with a great smile plastered on her mouth. As always, it was two separate bills. Harry quietly placed muggle notes on each one. He always paid for us. He had more muggle money than me. I never liked converting it. It was too much of a hassle.

"Did you forget how mean you used to be?" Harry added once we were left alone.

"No, I — I was only mean because I was trying to hurt you like you hurt me on that first day at Hogwarts. All the hatred was based totally on that one encounter."

"So if I had agreed to be your friend you would have been less of an ass?"

"To you anyway."

"See, that's why I didn't agree to be your friend that day, because you only gave special treatment to people that worship you. I saw that right away. You would never have given the time of day to Ron, who was already fast becoming my friend at that point. A friendship between you and I would either have ended with me getting fed up and being friends with Ron anyway, or you getting over yourself sooner."

"Thank you," The waitress said as she swooped over again. I jumped a bit in surprise. I was starting to suspect she was actually a witch apparating repeatedly. "Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya," She said with a saccharine smile as she touched my shoulder. I wanted to puke and I hadn't eaten a thing.

"Oh, here," Harry added another note to the stack before she could pick it up. He always tipped handsomely. Unsurprisingly, she was overly delighted. She thanked him profusely and before she took the money she pulled a pen and pad out of her apron and jotted her number down. He tried to wave it off, but she insisted and left it on the table before leaving with the money. As soon as she was gone he sighed. He pushed the scrap of paper aside and ignored it.

"Let's go," I muttered. I didn't wait for him. I stood and headed for the door. He managed to keep up with me anyway.

"Draco, what are you thinking about right now?" He asked as he walked beside me down the street. A glance in his direction showed his concern.

"That you had every right to hate me and it's no wonder I don't have any friends."

"Woah, woah, let's rethink that claim for a moment." He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. He turned me to face him in the middle of the sidewalk. A few people grumbled and walked around us. He either didn't notice or didn't give a shit. "You have friends. Ron and Hermione are your friends now."

"No they aren't."

"Yes, they are. Hermione helped you watch after Teddy and Ron called you his friend. Would you like more evidence than that?"

"No. I just — they don't feel like my friends. That's not the real problem anyway."

"Then what is?"

"I — I'm sorry. You didn't deserve my bullshit. You had already been through so much when you met me. I had no idea. I was stuck in my own narrow frame of mind and knew no better. Even if I had, I don't know if I would have acted any differently that day. I know I've already apologized for it,"

"Multiple times," He interrupted briefly.

"But I'm so sorry. I don't know how you got over it, how you looked past all that crap."

"Because when I came to you three years later you were a totally different person. You are a changed man. It is that man that I fell in love with, not the childish boy who bullied me. I recognize that that is who you were, but you have to know that I don't see that side any more. You are so much better than that."

I sighed slowly and nodded. I turned to continue walking home. When we finally made it to our front door I couldn't help but ask as soon as we walked inside, "You said that there is a lot I don't know about your life. What pieces am I missing?"

"I don't know. You know all the important stuff: Riddle killed my parents, I lived with my shitty aunt and uncle, I went to school, I died, I killed Tom Riddle, and now I'm here. What else is there to tell?"

"Wait, you didn't actually die." I leaned against the entryway into the kitchen and crossed my arms. There was no way. He had faked it. I had seen it.

He frowned, "Er, yes. I did die. Not for long, but I did. By the time your mum came to see if I was actually dead I had come back. I thought you knew."

"How the fuck would I know? Mum said you were alive, I saw you jump out of Hagrid's arms. I assumed you just faked it and I had nothing to indicate otherwise."

"I thought it was obvious when the article ran in the Prophet. I said Voldemort had killed the horcrux in me himself."

"I didn't think that meant you died," I sighed and shook my head. He stood silent, waiting for me to react. I didn't believe it, but I also knew he would never lie to me about something like that. "What exactly happened?"

He leaned against the opposite wall and sighed, "He hit me with the killing curse. Next thing I know I seem to be waking up in King's Cross. Dumbledore was there. Told me I could return if I wanted. I knew there was work that still needed to be done, so I came back. It felt like I was gone a long time, but I really wasn't."

It took me several moments to process. It had felt terrible to think he was dead only to find out he was alive. The pain was easy enough to forget when I realized he was alive, and assumed he had been the whole time. But for a moment, I had actually lost him. He had actually been dead. No part of me had been aware of it, of course, but for at least a few seconds or minutes of my life, Harry was dead. It occurred to me how preposterously mortal we both were. The thought of him dying now was far worse than a numb sensation. It was more like my entire world collapsing in on itself.

I looked up at him. He was flesh and blood. He was standing there as if he hadn't defied death twice. I could tell that he didn't think it was as big of a deal as I was making it.

"Are you going to say anything?" He asked, not unkindly.

I let my hands fall to my sides and walked a step closer toward him. I didn't need to say anything, he knew just what I needed. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around me. I buried my face in his hair as I held him tight to me. I murmured softly against his ear, "It just hurts to know that I really could have lost you forever, without ever having told you how much I loved you. Without me ever really knowing just how close we could become."

"I know."

"This was all just a lot of information to process in one day," I explained as I slowly let go of him and pulled away. "I had no idea how abused you were as a child. I had no idea you literally came back from the dead. It's really hard to feel worthy of your time, honestly."

"Well," He smirked, "I'll let you know if I ever get sick of your company."

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes.

"That's exactly how ridiculous you sound, you know that right? You will never be unworthy of my time. Shit, few people are."

I laughed, "That's true. You're too nice. How are you so nice after all the shit you've gone through? I do not understand that."

He shrugged, "Not sure. I probably get it from my mum. I've been told she was exceptionally k —" He stopped himself abruptly.

I frowned. His eyes wandered off into space and I could not read his expression, "Harry? Where'd you go?"

"Sorry," He muttered, blinking a couple of times before seeming to come back down as he looked at me. "I remembered something Remus said to me once. It — was just," He sighed as he struggled to speak. The words came out at a glacial speed, "A little eerie to think of."

"Well what was it?"

"Something about my mum having an unnerving habit of seeing the good in others when they couldn't see it themselves."

He didn't need to explain the relevance or the significance of it. I understood immediately. I couldn't help but silently thank his mother for passing on such a redeemable quality to her son. I wouldn't be where I was without his empathy and forgiveness. I smiled down at him warmly before kissing him sweetly.

He pulled back a moment later, "Question,"

"Hm?" I mumbled as I kissed down the side of his neck, unable to pull myself away from him just yet.

"Were you jealous of that woman at the pub?"

"No."

"You looked a bit disgruntled every time she came by though," Harry explained.

I sighed and stood up straight before him, "If anyone should be jealous it's her. The rest of the world might be infatuated and obsessed with you, but I'm the only one to have you."

He laughed, "Yeah, I'm all yours. Property of Draco Malfoy."

I couldn't help but smile at that, "Yes. Now, can you shut up long enough to let me snog you?"

"I think that can be arranged," He smiled before closing the space between us again.