Harry and Ron walked side by side to class. Ron's silence unnerved him.

"Listen, Ron-"

"Harry, what on earth are you thinking?"

The words caused Harry to falter in his step. He turned to face Ron, stopping his movements. Ron stopped with him.

"He's not so bad, Ron. Really."

"Erm, in case you've forgotten, he let Death Eaters into the school who maimed my brother."

Harry didn't know how to explain to his friend that Draco hadn't actually wanted to do that. He knew Ron wouldn't care.

"I'm aware," said Harry. "I'm also aware that he was practically held at wand-point when he took the Mark. He had no choice."

Ron scoffed. "Wand-point my arse. He was bragging for months to anyone who would listen about how he was a big, bad Death Eater who was going to help change the world for the better."

Harry couldn't argue with him there. But he had to say something; he couldn't let Ron win this fight.

"That doesn't mean he hasn't come to regret it. For all we know, it could have been a front he was putting on."

"I still don't know why you're defending him when he's bullied us for years," said Ron.

"Because he's changed now. I can see it, Hermione can see it, and so can Luna."

"Great, now I'm outnumbered," said Ron. "Am I the only one left in our group who's got any common sense?"

"No, Dean and Seamus still hate him plenty. They attacked him earlier this year. Buddy up with them."

He knew he was being slightly facetious, but he couldn't help himself when Ron was beginning to piss him off more and more.

"I just don't understand why you're befriending him when all he's done for the past seven years is torment us," said Ron.

"He's different now, and to be completely honest with you, Ron, I'm worried about him."

"Why would you waste your energy worrying about the git?"

"Because he doesn't look like himself, that's why."

"Is that really such a bad thing?"

"Can it, Ron, I think it's a perfectly valid concern when somebody emerges a shell of their former selves. I think that's when you say something is wrong."

"I thought you were glad he's 'changed.'"

"Well, maybe he's changed a little too much," Harry retorted. "He's no longer prejudiced, but he's also no longer eating regular meals and he's letting people attack him without defending himself."

"It's not like he has much of a choice; his wand is restricted."

"But he could still try!" exclaimed Harry. "And he doesn't."

"Maybe he feels as though he deserves it," said Ron, "which he does."

"I can't believe we're still having this conversation."

"Good, then let's talk about something else. Anything else. The thought of him makes me physically ill."

Harry sighed, knowing he'd get nowhere with his friend. Soon enough dinner rolled around, and he found himself drifting off from the conversation in favor of staring at the Slytherin table. Mal- Draco was sitting with his gaze lowered to the ground, and Harry couldn't help but notice how pale he looked. Had he always been that pale? Or was the life slowly draining from his skin?

"Harry?" Hermione's voice cut into his thoughts, and he averted his gaze back to his friend.

"Yeah?"

"You're doing it again." Though she sounded bemused rather than annoyed.

"Doing what?"

"Staring at him."

"He is rather fascinating to stare at, don't you think?" asked Luna, running a hand through her white-blonde hair. "His aura's so blue, though."

Ron sighed. "Luna, I know he helped you out during the war, but that doesn't excuse anything else he did," he said.

"Oh, it doesn't," agreed Luna. "But don't you think it speaks volumes that he risked his life just to make our stay a little less miserable?"

"Absolutely," said Hermione.

Ron rounded on her. "And what's this I hear about you forgiving him?"

Hermione frowned at him. "Ronald, I think forgiving him is a perfectly sensible thing to do. We're about to all go our separate ways. It's not like we'll ever have to see him again."

And here was another reminder that in a few months time, Harry wouldn't ever see Draco again. The thought hurt more than he cared to admit.

"That's not the point, Hermione. He hurt people. He hurt my brother. Fred's dead because of him. How could you?"

"Don't bring Fred into this," said Harry heatedly. "Draco had nothing to do with that."

"What about Bill, then, huh? And the countless people he tortured? He probably laughed while he did it, the sick fuck."

Harry wanted to be sick.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he said, willing his voice not to wobble. "You have no idea."

"I'm pretty sure I do. I can't believe I'm the only one who's remembering how much of an arsewipe he is."

"People can change," said Hermione.

"People can; he doesn't."

"Ronald, you're being ridiculous."

"You're falling for his tricks."

"It's not a trick," said Harry, willing himself to keep his fist down. "People are . . . people are hurting him, and it needs to stop."

"He deserves it," Ron said coldly.

Harry glowered at him. "That makes you no better than him."

Affronted, Ron's eyes widened. "How dare you-"

"I'm sick of listening to you guys fight about this," said Hermione, shaking her head and pushing her tray away from herself as she stood up.

"I'll see you guys later."

With her brown curls bouncing down her back, she left.

That left the two of them.

"Great, now you've gone and pissed her off," said Ron scathingly.

"You did that all on your own," said Harry.

"It really is sad seeing you all fight over it," said Luna, frowning. "I wish you'd all just get along, including Draco."

"Well, that can't happen, now can it," said Harry pointedly, fixing his gaze on Ron.

"Don't expect me to just bend and suddenly accept him," said Ron coldly.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't expect anything like that," snapped Harry. "I wouldn't expect you to do anything that wouldn't directly benefit yourself-"

"Stop," said Luna. "Fighting isn't the answer."

"Stay out of this," Ron told her.

"Ron, don't talk to her that way."

"When I look at Draco," said Luna, "I see a sadness. A deep, deep sadness. It's all around him, it's consuming him. And I fear if we don't act soon, we'll be too late."

Harry's blood ran cold. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Luna looked at him. Her blue eyes flashed.

"It means exactly what you think it means, Harry."

"Your opinion means more to him than you think," Luna said to Ron. "Right now it may seem like he hates you, but it's a facade. Deep down, he cares what you think because he knows how important you are to Harry."

"Great," scoffed Ron. "He only cares because of Harry. What's up with that, anyway? Have you talked to him? Figure out why he's suddenly acting so . . . not himself?"

Luna shook her head. "I've given him his space. Every time I try going near him, he goes all cold and frosty and pushes me away. I think it's because he's afraid someone will hurt me if they see me with him."

"Merlin's beard." Harry sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"But it isn't difficult to figure out. He's not himself because he hates everything about who he used to be."

"Do you really think so?" Ron asked.

"Yes," said Luna with such certainty it made Harry flinch. "I do."

Ron looked thoughtful. "I have noticed a change in him. And I'd be lying if I said it hasn't made me curious."

"You don't need to be curious, because it's obvious why he's changed," said Luna. "The war tarnished all his ideals, and now he's left with nothing. The one person he looked up to his whole life, his father, is locked away for the rest of his life. That's got to have an effect on him. His entire life view has been shattered. He's grappling with that, and coming to terms with the fact that he was wrong. It isn't an easy thing to do."

Harry couldn't stop thinking about what Luna had said.

"And I fear if we don't act soon, we may be too late."

Luna was rarely wrong about people.

"Luna," said Harry, "when you said if we don't act soon you fear we'll be too late, can you explain exactly what you meant? It's important."

Luna fixed him with a serious look. "I think you know, Harry."

Harry knew. He knew deep in his soul, it yanked and pulled on him like tug-of-war. But, for Ron's sake, he wanted to hear her say it.

"I'm not sure I do," he said, playing dumb.

Luna tssked. "I've been getting a . . . certain energy off him recently. It's been slowly building up, but it's gotten especially bad over the last twenty four hours. It started at dinner last night . . . I can tell you right when I picked up on his aura darkening. And it's gotten worse as the day has progressed."

Oh god.

Harry's chest tightened, because he connected the dots almost immediately. Last night during dinner, he'd kissed Draco. And ran away from him.

"Oh god, I think I'm gonna be sick," said Harry, clutching his stomach.

Luna placed a comforting arm on his shoulder. "It isn't too late, Harry. We can help him."

He looked at her, and as he spoke his voice cracked. "How?"

"By telling him he isn't alone, of course," said Luna. "That he has us. That we're all willing to listen. That's all he needs. He needs to know that he's forgiven."

"Well, maybe I don't forgive him," said Ron. "He tortured people."

"At the hands of a Dark wizard," said Luna. "I could hear everything in that cellar. The things Voldemort made Draco do . . . Against his will . . . Indescribable. I'll spare you the details. I wouldn't wish them on my worst enemy, let alone two of my dearest friends."

"Well, he shouldn't have joined their bloody ranks," said Ron.

"Ron," said Luna, "he didn't have a choice."

Ron looked shocked, like he hadn't already been told this by Harry a hundred times. "H-He didn't?"

"No! The things I heard . . . I know everything about their family, Ron. I know how Lucius messed up in the eyes of Voldemort. Badly. In the Department of Mysteries, before he went to Azkaban for the first time. Draco joining the Death Eaters was supposed to restore the Malfoy name, but it wasn't enough for Voldemort. He wanted Draco to perform the task of killing Dumbledore, a task that was designed for him to fail. He wanted to punish Lucius, not reward him."

What little color remained on Ron's face drained out of it. "Oh god . . ."

"But you want to know the worst part? Worse than hearing the screams? Was seeing the life slowly drain out of Draco's eyes. His aura . . . it became dimmer, and dimmer, and dimmer, until it began flickering with sickness. And it lost all colour. It wasn't even blue. It was just . . . Grey."

Ron's eyes had widened almost comically, and Harry was ready to throw up.

"And you're . . . you're saying . . . his life's in danger?" Ron squeaked.

Luna nodded. "It very well might be. Something happened to him within the last day, something terrible. And I fear it may be enough to push him over the edge."

Guilt squeezed Harry's chest like a cobra. This was his fault. This was all his fault.

"What can we do?" Harry asked Luna.

"Tell him you forgive him, even if you already have. It seems like he may need to hear it now more than ever."

"I'll tell him a thousand times if he wants," said Harry honestly. "I just want him to be alright."

Luna smiled at him. "You care for him deeply. That much is certain."

Harry blushed something fierce. "I only . . . I'm only doing what any sensible person would do. I don't want him to die."

"Ah, you see, but we both know it's more than that, don't we, Harry?"

Harry furrowed his brow, not appreciating all the pretending he was having to do in this conversation. "What are you talking about?"

Luna chuckled, shaking her head. "Denial isn't going to get you anywhere with me, Harry. I know you like him. I see it all over your aura."

"Wait a minute, like him?" exclaimed Ron. "I know the other blokes were joking, y'know, at dinner last night, but that's all I thought it was. Jokes. You're not saying . . . Is this true?"

Harry couldn't speak.

"Bloody hell, Hermione was right. I owe her big money for this."

"You guys made a bet over me?"

"I was so sure you were just hyper-extending your obsession from sixth year as a way of coping with the war being over and being forever changed and all that . . ."

"What the fuck, Ron?"

"You're missing the point! You like the ferret?"

"What's it to you if I do?"

The words were out before he could stop them, and there was nothing he could do now except choke on the stifling silence and wait.

Luna looked positively gleeful. "This is the first time you've admitted it, Harry."

Ron, perturbed, looked between him and Luna. "This is absurd. I feel like I'm in a nightmare."

"Oh, it's not so bad!" exclaimed Luna. "We've just established that Draco is worth forgiving, haven't we?"

"Well, yeah, but I-"

"And if Harry likes him then that's his choice."

It was hardly a choice. Harry said as much.

Luna smiled at him. "Of course it isn't, darling. But I'm making a point."

Ron, still pale as a ghost, looked flabbergasted. "Mate, I've known you how long? And never once have you expressed an interest in a guy."

"I dunno if I am interested in guys," said Harry truthfully. "I think it's just him."

Ron shook his head. "You've gone mental. You know that?"

Luna frowned. "Ron-"

But Ron pointed at her. "Don't." Then his gaze shifted to Harry. "Harry, I love you like a brother. But this? I dunno if I can accept this. Forget what Malfoy's done during the war. What about what he's done here? To us and Hermione? How can you like someone like that?"

This was when Harry snapped.

"I dunno, Ron," he snarled, and Ron shifted backward in his seat. "Maybe I haven't the slightest clue why and am just confused about all of this as you are, ever think of that? I didn't exactly ask for this. I wanted to be with your sister. I wanted things to settle down after the war, not morph into this absolutely chaotic clusterfuck. I wanted to be normal. Not fall for my arch-nemesis who, until recently, couldn't even be bothered to speak to me civilly. I never asked for any of this to happen. It just did. I'm doing my best to wrap my head around it, and I'd appreciate it if you at least attempted to do the same."

He had just been speaking his mind. He hadn't realized the error of his words, really he hadn't, for Ron's expression of horror and Luna's of delight thoroughly confused him.

"What?"

"You're . . . You're . . . Falling for him?"

"Your aura's pure gold right now, Harry."

"Wait a minute, falling for him? I did not- I'm not- What gave you that- I'm not falling for him!"

"You just said it!" exclaimed Ron, pointing an accusing finger at Harry.

That was when Harry realized he had.

Fuck.

"Oh, fuck." He put his head in his hands. He'd fucked up. Majorly. Liking was something Ron could eventually stomach, but loving?

He did not love Draco. He did not, he did not, he did not. He couldn't.

"I don't love him," said Harry, voice cracking again. "I can't."

"Oh, Harry." Luna rubbed up and down his arm soothingly. "Of course you can. He needs it now more than ever."

Something inside Harry stirred. He realized that he needed to tell Luna about the kiss. It was important.

"Luna . . . I kissed him last night."

Ron choked on his steak. Luna's eyes gleamed as she smiled.

"And then I ran away."

Luna's smile faded.

"W-W-What? What the hell? Harry, have you absolutely lost your mind?"

"I really think I might have," said Harry. "But, Luna, I just . . . I just left him."

"You were scared," Luna said carefully. "That's alright. Have you . . . Talked to him since?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "But we didn't get to talk about . . . it."

Calling it "the kiss" to anyone but Draco still felt too fresh. Too raw.

Too wrong.

Was he wrong? To have these feelings?

Ron gasped in realization. "That's what you two were talking about before I found you. Wasn't it?"

Harry couldn't lie anymore to his best friend. Head down, he nodded.

"I knew something was going on. This is crazy, Harry."

"Not so crazy," said Luna. "I saw it coming, believe it or not."

"You were so obsessed with him," said Ron. "How did I not figure it out?"

"So you and Draco haven't talked about things. Harry, do you know how that might make him feel?"

Harry didn't have to think. He knew the answer right away. "Shit."

Luna had said he was in danger. Draco thought that Harry was disgusted by him because he'd run away.

Suddenly frantic, Harry scanned the Slytherin table. Draco was nowhere to be found.

"Shit, Luna, he's not at his table anymore."

"Go after him," Luna said calmly, far too calmly for the pressing situation at hand.

Harry turned to Ron. "We'll talk later, yeah?"

"But-"

"Ron, there's no time. I have to find him."

Ron sighed. "Alright, Harry."

Harry rose from his seat, bid goodbye to Ron and Luna, and exited the Great Hall.

He practically ran all the way back to the eighth year common room, and by the time he got to the boys' dormitories he was out of breath. He walked all the way to the end of the corridor where he knew Draco's room was.

He knocked on the door. Goyle answered it.

"Potter?" His demeanor was less harsh, less cold, than the last time they'd interacted. Harry wondered what had changed.

"Is Draco here?"

"No, I reckon he must still be at dinner."

"I was just there. I didn't see him."

"Oh. Sometimes he goes wandering off to the Astronomy Tower when he's troubled. And based on the way he's been acting today, he definitely is."

"Thanks for the tip," said Harry, and left without another word. With that in mind he set off for the Astronomy Tower.

After climbing staircase after staircase, Harry reached his destination. He stepped outside, and immediately harsh wind blew at him, causing him to shiver. His robes did virtually nothing to warm him against the biting cold. Why hadn't he thought to grab a coat?

Because you're worried about him, that's why.

"Draco?" he called.

No answer.

Harry rounded a corner, and what he saw chilled him to his core.

Draco was sitting on the ledge, feet dangled over. Far too close to the edge for Harry's comfort.

"Draco!"

Draco startled, and gripped the pole next to him for dear life. He swiveled around to face Harry, eyes wide.

"W-What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"I-I . . . That's none of your business!"

The wind whipped back his white-blonde hair, making him look like some sort of prince on a sailboat. Harry thought he looked rather beautiful. Then, he realized, now was not the time. He had the rest of his life to ogle Draco. Right now he needed to talk him down.

"What are you doing sitting up there?" Harry asked carefully, taking a cautious step closer to him. Not too close, never too close.

Draco white-knuckled the pole, chest heaving for air. "I just . . . I needed . . . I needed to think."

"Five hundred feet up in the air?"

Draco deflated slightly in what appeared to be exasperation. "Maybe I needed to make a decision."

Horrified, Harry couldn't help but take another step closer. "Decision? What kind of decision?"

Draco laughed. Harsh and ugly, he laughed.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I thought we were making progress," said Harry, feeling his eyes sting, and whether it was from the wind or something else he wasn't sure. "I thought we were friends."

"Friends." Draco spat the word with such malice, such venom, that Harry flinched.

"Friends don't kiss each other and then run away. Friends don't . . . Don't . . . Don't hold each other like that."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, and it was the furthest thing from the truth but he'd apologize for that awfully wonderful kiss for the rest of his life if it meant getting Draco down off that ledge. "I didn't mean to confuse you, to mess everything up. I'm so sorry, Draco."

The wind continued lapping at his hair. Harry had to brush his own hair out of his eyes to see Draco hang his head and face away from Harry, staring out into the dark twinkling night.

"You're sorry," Draco scoffed, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry for a lot of things," said Harry. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you about your attack. I'm sorry I haven't done something yet with the school to stop the attacks altogether. I'm sorry I said I regretted saving your life. Saving your life was the best decision I've ever made, Draco."

Ever so slowly, Draco rotated to face Harry, so that his feet were now dangling on the safe side of the ledge. Still not where Harry wanted him to be, but progress was progress. Harry would take it.

"It really, really was," Harry continued, knowing if he continued to talk along this same string of thought that his chances of saving him were higher. "You are one of the bravest, cleverest, most amazing people I have ever met."

Draco drew in a harsh breath. "You don't mean that. You're only saying that."

Harry found himself shaking his head rapidly. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I mean it. I mean every word."

"Why?" Draco breathed.

"Because I-" Don't say it. Don't startle him so hard he'll fall backwards. "Because it's true. You are so strong, Draco. So strong. The things you had to do . . . Merlin knows I can only imagine, but you came out the other side a stronger, better person."

"Better?" Draco exclaimed. "Are you daft, Potter?"

"Maybe I am," said Harry, shaking his head. "Maybe I've gone absolutely bloody mental, and you're as horrible as you think you are. But I'm pretty sure that the reality is, you don't see how wonderful you are. You did everything you could to help those around you, even if it could have killed you."

"Doesn't matter. None of it matters. None of it erases what I did to those innocent Muggleborns."

"That wasn't your fault," said Harry, stressing each and every word in the sentence.

"Why are you here, Potter?"

"Luna noticed something was off about you today. Seems that she was right."

"Bloody Lovegood, I swear to Merlin-"

"She's worried about you, just like I am. She just wants to help you."

Draco shook his head. "She shouldn't be. She's wasting her time, and so are you."

"Don't say that. Please don't say that, because it isn't true," said Harry.

Draco sobbed dryly. "I can't . . . I just can't, Potter. I can't."

Harry had heard enough. In one fluid motion he closed the distance between himself and Draco, wrapped his arms around the blonde's slim torso and pulled him down to safety. Gasping, Draco flailed in his arms, but Harry held him tight.

"Now, you listen to me, Draco Malfoy."

Draco continued struggling. "Let me go, Potter. Let me go!"

"No. Not until you listen."

Draco relaxed in Harry's grip, breathing out a sigh. Harry didn't let go of him, though, and spun them so he was the one closer to the ledge instead of Draco. It was time for him to be brave.

"I'm sorry for a lot of things. I've made a lot of mistakes with you. But I'm sure as hell not sorry I kissed you."

Draco froze. His stormy, grey eyes widened to the size of quarters. "W-What?"

"I ran away because I was scared, not because I was disgusted with you or disturbed by what happened. In fact, I liked it so much I've been . . . really wanting to do it again. But I was so worried that I violated you, that you didn't feel the same, that I . . . I just . . . Ran."

Harry was out of breath by the time he finished his speech.

Draco peered closer at him as though he were examining him.

"What?" Harry asked.

Draco smiled at him, softly. "Nothing. Just noticing how lovely your eyes look in the moonlight."

"Oi! I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you here. I do not appreciate-"

"Oh, hush, Potter, you appreciate it plenty and you know it."

Harry was baffled. Here Draco was disarming him with compliments, when he was supposed to be-

"Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to be a coward anymore."

And Draco grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a searing kiss.

This kiss was nothing like their last one, tentative and careful. This one was ravenous. Feral.

Their tongues fought each other for the upper hand, while Draco's hands slipped into Harry's hair, tugging deliciously, just like last time. Harry pulled Draco even closer so that their chests were flush, wrapping his arms around his slender figure. He relished in their closeness. He needed more of it, more of Draco. He wanted to taste more.

So he did.

Harry broke away from his mouth and began leaving hot, wet little pecks on the side of his cheek, down his jaw, and across the spanse of his pearly white neck. Draco moaned deliciously, and the sound traveled straight to Harry's cock. Feeling braver and braver, Harry ran his hands up and down Draco's sides, feeling his body squirm beneath the material of his robes.

"So." Kiss. "Fucking." Kiss. "Gorgeous." Harry's lips traveled back up to nibble on Draco's ear. Draco sighed shakily, wrapping one hand around Harry's waist and squeezing tight.

Suddenly, Harry remembered something. Something very important.

He pulled away from Draco. He could have sworn he heard a whine, but the sound was too soft to know for sure. Maybe it was his imagination.

"Draco," he said quietly, hardly more than a whisper. Breathless, Draco stared deep into his eyes.

"I need you to know something."

Draco nodded, wordlessly urging him to continue.

Harry drew in a deep breath. "I need you to know that I forgive you. For everything."

"N-No." Draco began shaking his head.

"No? What do you mean 'no'?"

"You can't forgive me, Potter. I'm not . . . It's not . . . Worth it."

"You're forgiven," Harry said again, needing Draco to not only hear but believe the words. "Hermione forgives you, Luna forgives you, even Ron forgives you. We talked about it at dinner. He's still got some warming up to do, but he's coming around. He forgives you. We all do."

Eyes wide, Draco shook his head again. "You can't."

"I know there will always be people who only see you as a Death Eater. But I need you to know that you also have people who see you as you really are. Who see you as someone good."

Without waiting for a self-deprecating response, Harry took Draco's thin, dainty hands in his. Felt them tremble. To steady him, he brought up one of Draco's hands to his lips and delicately kissed each and every knuckle.

"You're so good, Draco. You're so good."

To Harry's shock, Draco yanked his hand out of Harry's grip, scowling deeply.

"Good? You think I'm good? Well . . ." He began roughly rolling back the sleeves of his robes on his left arm, and Harry knew what was coming.

"What do you think about this?"

Draco all but shoved the Dark Mark into Harry's face.

Harry sighed. Not in exasperation, but sadness.

"I think it's a part of you. Just like everything else."

"It's hideous," said Draco. "I can't bear to look at it, even though I have to every day. It just reminds me of who I am and everything I've done and-"

But he stopped speaking, for Harry had lifted his arm and gently brought the mark to his lips. He began kissing up the snake's scaly body, not stopping even when he reached the skull. He kissed all around the Mark, devoting it as much care and compassion as he had every other part of Draco he'd kissed so far.

"Harry," Draco choked out, and fuck, was he crying? And he'd said Harry's name, he'd said Harry's name-

"Shhh, shhh. It's alright." Harry pulled Draco in for a hug, wrapping his arms around his shaking form and holding on as tightly as he could.

"One of these days I have got to stop crying on you," sniffled Draco.

Harry shook his head fondly. "Until then, I'll be here to dry you up."

"Oh, you're such a sap." Draco whacked his back.

Harry released him from the hug, pulling back to get a good look at him. His eyes were slightly red-rimmed, glistening an almost iridescent silver in the moonlight.

"You're forgiven, Draco," Harry said softly. "Now, you just need to forgive yourself."