Potter- Harry's words failed to sink in for him. They stayed afloat, resting on the surface. Draco couldn't comprehend them; he didn't know how.

"I don't know how to do that."

"A mind healer might help."

Draco felt his heart palpitate. He couldn't.

"No."

"Draco . . ."

"I said no."

"You're only hurting yourself by refusing help. Can't you see? I couldn't forgive myself, either, so Molly forced me to see one over the summer."

Draco wasn't surprised Harry sought out therapy. What surprised him was how quickly it seemed to have worked.

"H-How?" he asked. "How did it work that quickly?"

"Oh, it's a process," said Harry, "that's far from over. I just have to take it one day at a time, and you will, too."

"I d-don't know . . . What if no one will see me because of what I've done?"

"This is the medical field, Draco. They're not allowed to discriminate based on that."

"They'll find a way," said Draco rashly, already imagining all the scenarios with people fixing him with pitied looks, apologies and scrunched up noses.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," said Harry passively.

"You'd . . . do that?"

Harry nodded. He leaned in closer to Draco, until they were sharing the same air and Draco's insides were doing flip-flops again. He slowly lifted a hand and brought it to Draco's cheek, stroking the skin softly.

"Of course I would."

And this was all too much for Draco. The kissing, the whispered professions, the soft promises . . . He could have fainted. He didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve any of it.

"But I don't-"

"Hush now." Harry placed a finger over Draco's lips to silence him. "I don't want to hear any more about how you 'don't deserve' it. If you want to see a mind healer, that should be your choice and yours alone, and I'll be damned if there's anything in this world that stops you."

Draco kept his hands firmly planted on Harry's shoulders as Harry removed his finger from his lips.

"Mother's been writing to me about it," Draco admitted quietly. "Says it would be good for me."

"Then there you go." Harry let go of him, and Draco's arms felt cold from the loss of contact. "If you want to see one, you'll get to see one. I'll make sure of it."

"T-Thank you, Harry," Draco said hesitantly, scratching his head nervously. "I dunno what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Harry smiled kindly at him.

"I just . . . This . . . It's . . . It's . . ." Draco threw his hands up in frustration at his lack of ability to convey his feelings.

"A lot?" Harry suggested.

Draco nodded. But feeling as though his control on the situation were slipping, he made a quick attempt to recover. "But I, erm . . . Not that I don't . . . Y'know, feel things for you. Because I do. But I don't . . . This isn't what I . . . I had this all planned out, you weren't supposed to find me like this, I don't-"

"You had this all planned out? Am I hearing that you wanted to seduce me, Draco Malfoy?"

And oh god, but did Harry's smirk do things to Draco.

"N-No, I wasn't- That wasn't what I- I just-"

"Relax, I think it's adorable. Besides, I know what you meant. It's okay. We can take things as slow as you want."

"I feel like we should talk about this," Draco said.

"I agree."

"I feel like if we just . . . rush into it, it won't work out right."

"I also agree."

"And I feel like we should have . . . boundaries. On what's okay and what's not okay."

"Okay, so let's set some."

"Well, for starters, I'm assuming you don't want to be seen with me, so we can cross off all forms of public affection."

For a split second, Harry's face was doing something Draco didn't like. His brows dipped in and his lips pulled as though they were contorting into a frown. But Draco blinked and it was gone; Harry's face was passive and neutral again, as though nothing had happened.

"Yeah. That's . . . That's fine. What else?" His tone was sharper than it had been a moment ago, almost sounding . . . strained. Draco didn't like it at all.

"What? What did I say?"

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"Oh. Okay. Well . . . That's all I can think of, to be honest. Do you have anything?"

"No."

"Okay . . ."

Draco felt as though a tension had settled between the two of them. He should be wanting to kiss Harry's brains out right now, but for some reason he did not.

"Harry, is something wrong?"

"No, why would something be wrong?"

"Because I feel like . . . You know what, it's nothing. I'm just getting all up in my head again. Nevermind."

"Okay." Harry nodded. "It's getting late. We should probably head back."

If possible, Draco's heart sank further. He had definitely done something wrong. But what?

"Yeah. Let's go."

To Draco's disappointment, Harry didn't reach for his hand as he began walking. Draco was aware that they had put no labels on their relationship, were not boyfriend and boyfriend and therefore he had no right to resent Harry for not holding his hand, he was also aware that he himself was an entire human being who was capable of attempting to hold Harry's hand if he wanted to so badly, but that was just the thing. He wanted Harry to do it. If Draco did it, that would be too clingy.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" Draco asked him as they walked, because the tension was so thick he was beginning to choke on it.

Harry nodded stiffly. "Yeah."

Then he stopped. "You know what, no, it's not."

Now it was time for the other shoe to drop. Draco didn't know what he'd done wrong, but he was about to find out. And lose Harry forever. Of course only he would manage to screw up this quickly.

Too afraid to open his mouth, Draco looked Harry in the eye as he waited for him to speak.

"You don't . . . you don't want to be seen with me?"

And Harry's words nearly knocked Draco off his feet, because what?

"What?"

"You said it yourself, Draco. You don't want to be seen with me."

"When did I say that?"

Harry sighed. "You said, 'I'm assuming you don't want to be seen with me.' Not only did you do what everybody else does and assume what I think, the one thing I hate more than anything, you made it explicitly clear you want nothing to do with publicity because you're ashamed of me."

By the end of Harry's speech Draco's mouth was wide open, and he felt as though he were drowning in Harry's words. Harry thought he was ashamed of him?

"First of all, I am not ashamed of you, so you can get rid of that thought right now." Draco placed his hands on his hips, adopting his character-typical Slytherin tone.

"Second of all, I never said I didn't want to be seen with you. I said I didn't think you'd want to be seen with me, which in my opinion isn't that far off an assumption."

"Why do you always assume the worst of me when it comes to you?" Harry asked, and the question about broke Draco's heart.

"What do you mean?"

"You always think I hate you, or won't forgive you, or won't take the time to listen to you. You think I just . . . Hate you all the time, when I've given you every reason to believe anything but."

"I don't think you hate me anymore," Draco said, although he didn't know how helpful the words were. "I mean, you kissed me, twice. I don't think hate is the right word to describe what we have."

"Then what do we have?" Harry asked, and oh boy. Draco's heart was doing flips again.

"Er, uh . . ."

"It's okay not to know that. What's not okay is to assume things about me without asking me first. You were even blatant enough to mention that you were assuming! Which is so not okay, and undermines everything important about a healthy relationship."

"I'm sorry," said Draco. "I won't do it again."

"Thank you for apologizing, but that doesn't explain why you did it," said Harry. "Why were you so sure I wouldn't want to be seen with you?"

This was the part that Draco hated. The talking. The communicating. Wouldn't it be so much easier if he could just run in a hole and hide every time it got hard while Harry got to stew and guess what he was thinking?

"B-Because it's . . . because it's me," Draco insisted.

Harry's eyes widened considerably.

"Because I'm the Death Eater, the one everybody wants to hex, the one who killed and maimed and tortured. You're the golden boy, the hero, the one everybody loves, the one who saved and fought and saved some more. It doesn't make any sense. People will go after you, Harry, people will hurt you-"

"Who cares what anybody thinks?" Harry asked quietly. "As long as I'm happy, who cares?"

Wait a minute.

"Y-You're . . . happy? With me?"

Harry shook his head, nearly scoffing. "Draco . . . We've been through a war. I don't have the energy to lie anymore. Yes. You make me really fucking happy."

Draco couldn't help but ask the question that was begged to be asked.

"Why?"

"Because." Harry stopped walking, placing both his hands on Draco's shoulders, rubbing the bony skin softly. "Because of the way your eyes light up when you see me, thinking I won't notice. Because of the way your lips feel against mine, like we were . . . Meant to be together. Because of your beautiful laugh that sounds like . . . Magic. Which I'd like to hear more of, by the way. Because you deserve to be happy just as much as everybody else I fought for."

"That's just the thing," Draco said glumly, in spite of all the wonderful things Harry was saying. "You fought for those people. I fought against them."

"That means nothing now," Harry said quietly. "You didn't have a choice. Do you realize how strong you are, to have come out of that the other side and still ended up doing the right thing? You saved us in that manor, Draco. You saved us. That would have been it. If it weren't for you. You saved us. We won the war because of your help."

"But I-"

"No buts. You helped. You fought for the right side, even if you didn't realize it. Even with that mark on your arm."

"But the Mark-"

"Means nothing."

Draco thumbed the skin of his arm softly, considering Harry's words. "It just feels so . . . Apart of me."

"That's because it is a part of you, Draco." Harry gently took Draco's arm in his hands and rubbed at the covered skin. "It's something that happened to you, something that shaped who you are. I understand wanting to cover it up or get rid of it, believe me, I do, but it won't help, because at the end of the day you still have yourself to look at in the mirror, and unless you come to peace with what happened during the war you'll still look in that mirror and hate what you see, Mark or no Mark."

"But I do look into the mirror and hate what I see," Draco said brokenly, feeling his shoulders begin to shake and his eyes begin to water. Sweet Merlin, was he going to cry again?

"I don't," Harry said, rubbing at Draco's arm. His hand traveled lower until it latched onto his hand. Harry laced their fingers together, thumb rubbing soothing circles on Draco's palm. Draco quivered.

"I really, really don't."

"You can't mean that," said Draco insecurely, forming a fist with his free hand and squeezing tight. "Not when there's so much to hate."

"Draco." Harry rubbed his skin again, wearing a most heartbreaking expression. It made Draco want to take back every mean thing he'd ever said about himself.

"You just don't understand right now. When I look at you, I feel . . . I feel . . ."

"Like what?"

"At home."

They resumed walking, and this time Draco's chest felt lighter. There was a spring in his step. He was holding hands with Harry Potter, and Harry Potter had just told him that he felt like home. Draco didn't know how to tell him he felt the exact same way.

"I don't think we're finished talking about this. What this means," said Harry, and Draco could have sung for joy. He wanted to keep talking about it, but he was afraid Harry hadn't wanted to.

"Yes. I agree."

"So . . ."

"So . . . I think there's the matter of your friends finding out," said Draco, feeling very uncomfortable all of a sudden.

"Oh, that." Harry waved it off with his free hand, which confused Draco. "They basically already know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that they've noticed something was going on between us before I did."

"Oh." And Draco needed to start coming up with better responses, because really?

"And they're a bit skeptical," said Harry. "I'm not going to lie. But one of them's already totally on board. It's Luna, actually. And as for Ron and Hermione, they'll come around. At the end of the day, they just want me to be happy and it really won't matter who I'm with."

"Y-You . . . You want to be with me?"

The question was so soft, it was barely above a whisper.

Harry stopped walking again. He squeezed Draco's hand tighter as he turned to look at him.

"Yes."

And he surged in for another kiss, cupping Draco's face and moving his lips passionately against his own. There was no tongue this time, but that did not lessen its intensity. Draco, starting to feel dizzy from not only the lack of oxygen, breathed in deeply through his nose. It didn't help. Harry was everywhere, and he needed more of it. He took his free hand and tangled it in Harry's dark, soft curls, twisting and pulling. Harry moaned into the kiss as his tongue asked for entry at Draco's lips. Draco willingly opened his mouth and the two began to snog in earnest.

When neither boy could breathe any longer they broke apart panting, still holding hands.

"Does that answer your question?" Harry asked breathlessly.

"I'm . . . I just . . ."

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing, I'm just . . . Overwhelmed. That you actually want to be with me."

"I think I've wanted you for a while. I just didn't realize it."

"I've wanted you for so long," Draco confessed. "So long. I was so afraid of you finding out I was gay because I didn't want you to ever think I wanted you as more than a friend. I was terrified out of my mind."

"Draco . . . I've denied myself for so long. I don't know what my sexuality is, if I'm gay or if I'm bi, but frankly, it doesn't matter because all I want is you."

Draco felt his lip wobble. He would not lose his shit in front of Harry again. He forbade it.

"I, erm, I . . ." Love you. "Really, really like you, Harry."

Harry smiled. "Well, that works out in your favor, then, because lucky for you, I happen to like you, too. I also find you very, very attractive. Too attractive for your own good, if I'm being honest."

His green eyes seemed to be twinkling at him. Draco was so dizzy he saw stars.

"We've both been in relationships before," he began carefully, feeling encouraged by Harry's nod to continue. "But this is . . . this feels . . . different. I mean, it's us. Does it . . . Does it feel different to you?"

Harry nodded so quickly Draco could have passed out from relief right there.

"It does. It absolutely does, Draco." Harry placed a hand on Draco's chest and began rubbing, and Draco was melting into a puddle. There he was saying Draco's name again and it was so wonderful-

Harry kissed him. It was soft and utterly sweet and so much better than all of Draco's fantasies combined. As Harry kissed him, leaving little pecks on his lips, his hand trailed lower, rubbing patterns above his navel.

"Mmm, Draco," Harry breathed against his lips, moving down to kiss at the sensitive expanse of his neck. "I want you so bad you have no idea."

Draco sighed as Harry left peck after peck on his neck, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders.

"I want you too, so, so much," he moaned. "But-"

Immediately, Harry stopped kissing him. He stood back up to meet Draco at eye-level.

"What is it?"

"I just . . . I just need to take this slow. I can't have . . . I don't want to, I mean I do, Merlin I do, but-"

"Hey, it's okay." Harry's hand trailed back up Draco's chest, landing on his shoulder and massaging the skin. "We can take this as slow as you want, alright?"

"It's not that I'm . . . nervous or anything-" Which was a lie. "But if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right."

Harry smiled at him. "I couldn't agree more."

Draco sighed in relief. He wasn't used to his needs being met on such an intimate level; Theo had always taken what he'd wanted, when he'd wanted, assuming Draco was always okay to give it. And the worst part was, Draco had been okay to give it. Because he hadn't known any better.

"Come back to me." Harry squeezed Draco's bicep. "What were you thinking about?"

"It's nothing," said Draco, shaking his head as a way of lightening the situation. But Harry didn't fall for it, if his frown was anything to go by.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I'm here for you if you want to talk."

Theo would have demanded he told until he basically left Draco with no choice.

"It's just . . . It's my ex, he . . . He's . . . He and I weren't the best at communicating what we needed or wanted. He sort of just . . . took from me. When he wanted."

Harry's eyes hardened. "You're not saying he-"

"No, he never forced himself on me. But he also never really . . . checked if it was alright with me first. He always just assumed."

"Oh. That's, erm . . . I'm sorry, Draco. Genuinely. You don't deserve that."

"Thanks."

The two began walking once again. Feeling braver, Draco reached for Harry's hand. Harry let him take it.

"The real question is, how are your friends going to feel about us?" asked Harry. "I thought all your friends hated me."

"They don't," said Draco, "and they already know we kissed. I mean, the first time. They support it, if I'm happy. That's all there is to it."

"Even Pansy?"

"Especially Pansy."

As they neared the eighth year common room, Draco began to feel nervous. Really nervous. Like, sweating and shaking and about-to-pass-out nervous.

One of two things was going to happen when they reached that door. They were either going to let go of each other's hands, or they were going to stay as they were. Draco didn't know which option frightened him more.

"You're shaking," Harry said. "What's the matter?"

"I'm just . . . You aren't concerned at all with what other people will have to say about us?"

"Not in the slightest," said Harry. "I spent seventeen years of my life with a target on my back, living my life according to other people. I'll be damned if I waste another second letting someone else's opinion affect me."

"You're so brave," Draco said in admiration, because it was true. Harry was the bravest person he'd ever met, while Draco was just a slimy coward who ran away as soon as things got difficult.

"So are you," Harry said back instantly. "You may not exactly wear it on your sleeve, but you're brave in your own way. So brave."

Draco felt a violent tremor in his arm, and dammit, not now, why did it have to be now?

"Draco?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"I-It's nothing, it's just . . . Sometimes I get these, ever since the war. I've . . . It's nothing, really."

"Wait a minute, I've heard about this, Hermione told me about this," Harry said. "Overexposure to Cruciatus. Were you . . . Oh god, Draco, I'm so sorry."

Draco shook his head. "It's fine, really, I'm honestly used to it by now."

Harry frowned. "No person should ever have to be used to that."

"Well . . ."

Harry took Draco's hand in his. "Can I kiss it better?" he asked.

Draco chuckled. "You can try."

Harry moved his lips over Draco's knuckles, kissing each one carefully. Draco shuddered each time Harry's lips touched his skin. Slowly, ever so slowly, he stopped shaking.

"How did you . . . How did you do that?"

"I broke the cycle of nervousness," said Harry, as casually as though he were describing the weather. "You start to shake, you get nervous, then the shaking gets worse, then you get more nervous. I did something to calm you down, and it worked."

Draco smiled. "Thank you."

Harry smiled back. "You're welcome." And then, "Y'know, you should smile more. It really suits you."

If possible, Draco's smile widened and he felt the color rise in his cheeks. "Stop it, you're such a sap."

"You love it."

They walked hand in hand until they reached the common room, then they stopped outside the door, facing each other. Draco felt his heart begin to jackhammer.

"So . . ." he began anxiously.

"So . . ."

"How are we going to do this?"

Harry laughed. "Would you relax? We don't have to make some big, dramatic entrance if you don't want to. I said we can take this as slow as you want to, and I meant it."

"I thought you were upset that I didn't want to be seen with you."

"That was before I knew what you meant, you pillock. And now that I know you aren't ashamed of me, it isn't an issue if you want to wait. Really."

"How does that make sense?" asked Draco. "If I don't want to go in there holding your hand, that should by definition make me ashamed of you."

"Mm, not necessarily," said Harry. "You may just be afraid of what people on my side will think, which is perfectly valid."

Draco hated how accurate he was. "I just . . . I'm more worried about what they're going to do to you than what they're going to do to me."

Harry frowned. "You should care about yourself just as much as you care about me."

Draco didn't know what to say to that.

"Maybe I don't know how to-"

"Oh, stop using that as an excuse. 'Don't know how to.' If only life were that easy, if only you could get out of every hard thing by saying you don't know how to. But guess what, Draco? Life isn't that easy, and you're going to have to do better than that."

Draco, stunned, let go of Harry's hand. It fell to his side.

"I mean, I'm sorry that came out a little harsh- That was-"

"It's fine," Draco said airily, masking the hurt he felt at Harry's words, how easily and effortlessly he had diminished Draco's own feelings.

"It's not. Oh god-"

"Nope. It is." Because Draco was a petty, petty man, and because he did not deserve Harry Potter, he decided not to be honest with him as Harry had decided to be with Draco.

"No, really. It's fine. In fact, you know what?" Draco reached for Harry's hand again, and firmly grasped the limp limb. "Let's go in there holding hands, right now. You and me. I couldn't be more ready."

"Draco, this isn't how I-"

"This is what I want. This is what you wanted also, is it not?"

Draco was vaguely aware his voice was slightly too shrill, and that his eyes were slightly too wide. But he didn't care, because Harry had hurt his feelings and if this was how he wanted to play it, this was how it would be.

Harry sighed. "I'm not going in there with you like this. Can you just listen? I'm sorry I-"

"Nothing to be sorry for," Draco smiled.

Harry looked hesitant. "Are you sure?" he asked. "Because, honestly, I was just trying to help you, and keep it real with you."

Draco sighed. "Of course you were, Harry, and I appreciate that. Really."

"Something still doesn't feel right," said Harry. "Your demeanor is . . . Off."

"Nonsense!" Draco exclaimed, squeezing Harry's hand so tight he was certainly cutting off circulation. "I've never been more ready for anything in my life. Let's go in. Hand in hand, you and me. You ready?"

Harry sighed. "Only if you're sure."

Draco nodded, swallowing thickly past his growing nerves he was doing his best to conceal. "I'm sure."

"Alright, then." Harry squeezed his hand. "Let's go."

Draco opened the door to the common room, and together he and Harry stepped inside.

The moment they did, all eyes were on them. Draco gulped.

People's mouths were dropping, harsh gasps rang throughout the room, and hands were flying over mouths. Draco's hand trembled in Harry's.

"Draco-"

"I've never felt better."

"Draco, please-"

"This is great. This is exactly what I wanted."

Suddenly, Draco spotted Granger and Weasley, sitting in the far corner sofa. He tensed up.

"What, what is it?"

Harry followed his gaze, and his sharp gasp meant he'd found what Draco was looking at.

"Shit."

"Well, you told me that I don't know how to stop hating myself. This is me trying. Let's go."

Before Harry could reply, Draco tugged on his hand and pulled him toward Weasley and Granger, who gawked at them both.

"Hi, Harry, Draco," greeted Granger, and Draco supposed after her professed forgiveness he should refer to her as Hermione.

"Hi, Hermione," said Harry.

"Hey, mate," said Weasley.

"Hey," greeted Draco.

"I don't believe I was talking to you, was I, ferret boy?"

Draco felt his grip on Harry's hand slacken.

"Ronald, be nice," Hermione hissed. Then she turned her attention back to them. "So," she started. "This is . . . New."

"Brand new," agreed Draco. And because he was petty, he added, "Harry and I were having the loveliest conversation on the way over here, weren't we, Harry? About how . . . New this is."

Harry sighed. "Draco, can I talk to you for a moment alone, please?"

Draco shook his head. "What, anything you have to say to me you can surely say in front of your dearest friends."

"Stop this," said Harry, furrowing his brow. "We're talking over here." Harry led him to the fireplace, away from Weasley and Hermione.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked him harshly.

"Making an effort," Draco said through his teeth. "Since apparently my not knowing how isn't good enough."

"I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I'm sorry," said Harry. "And I only want you to make an effort if it's going to be genuine."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Draco. "Is my walking into a room full of people who hate me holding your hand not good enough for you?"

Harry's face did something ugly. "You know what I meant, you absolute prick."

"No, I'm afraid I didn't," said Draco lightly.

Harry sighed. "This is never going to work out if we can't communicate, Draco."

"What does it look like we're doing right now?"

Harry face-palmed. "We aren't communicating, we're arguing. And it's exhausting. Believe it or not, this is actually really important to me, and these are my two best friends. I know you guys aren't on the best of terms, but could you at least try to be nice?"

The words stung, because they implied that Draco could only be nice if he tried.

"It isn't that hard for me to be nice, Harry."

Harry threw his hands up in the air. "For the love of Christ, Draco, could you let it go? I said I was sorry, and that I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings; that was not my intention."

"That's exactly the problem," said Draco. "You weren't trying to hurt me; you genuinely thought you were helping."

"Because the truth is, you do need to do better than that. You can't fixate on hating yourself forever, not when you have another person who l- Who cares about you."

Why was Harry suddenly afraid to say he liked Draco? They'd already exchanged that information; what was stopping him now? As much as it bothered him, Draco decided to let that matter drop, because they had more important things to talk about.

"Well, until tonight, you didn't make it the most clear that you did care! I'm sorry I can't just 180 all my feelings like you want me to."

"I know, I know you can't, I'm sorry," said Harry, placing his hands on Draco's shoulders. "That's way too much to ask of any person, especially someone who's been through as much as you have, and you're doing so well already I didn't mean to diminish that. Really, I didn't. I'm so sorry, Draco. And I'm sorry it took me so long to get my damn shit together and tell you the truth."

Draco shuddered, because Harry had struck home probably without even meaning to. "It's okay," he said carefully, hyper-aware of the words on the tip of his tongue. "It . . . did hurt my feelings. But it's okay. I forgive you."

Harry deflated with relief. "Okay. Okay." He grasped Draco's hands and brought them to his lips, kissing them once and then twice. "So can we go back to Hermione and Ron and act like a real couple now?"

Draco sighed. "Yes, I suppose we can."

Harry grinned. "Come on, then."

He led Draco back to his friends. Hermione had an indiscernible look on her face. Weasley was glaring at Draco as though he'd given him the plague.

"Sorry about that," said Harry pleasantly. "Just a little chat-"

"Between friends?" snarled Weasley sarcastically.

Harry sighed. "Ron, could you please cut it out?"

"I'm sorry this is a lot for me to digest. I have to get used to the fact that the ferret is going to be a part of our lives now."

"I'm right here," said Draco.

Weasley glared at him. "I know."

"Ron-"

"No, I shouldn't have to take this." Weasley stood up from the sofa, much to Hermione's displeasure. "Harry, we've been through a lot together, but this, I mean this takes the cake. How could you, I mean, I thought Luna was just blabbing on, I didn't think she was serious-"

"'How could I?' Really, Ron? How could I? If this is about Ginny, then just say so."

"This isn't about Ginny, mate."

"I should go," Draco said quietly, attempting to wrench his hand from Harry's, but Harry was stronger.

"No, please don't," Harry said gently. "Please stay. I'm sorry about him, but please stay."

"Why should he?" Weasley asked. "No one wants him around anyway except for you."

"That's not true," growled Hermione, standing up to face her boyfriend. "I want him around. He makes Harry happy. And he's apologized. And if that isn't enough for you, then I'm sorry, but that's too bad."

Draco felt a warmth bloom in his chest at Hermione sticking up for him. It meant more now that she was doing it outside the pressured constraints of Theo's domain.

"I just can't believe this," Ron scoffed.

Harry shrugged. "Take your time."

"Take my time? You want me to take my time?" Ron exclaimed. "This is . . . The very definition of ludicrousy, and you want me to take my time?"

"Ronald."

"Ron, this isn't-"

Draco, on the other hand, wanted to shrink in on himself. It didn't matter how much Harry cared for him. If his best friend wasn't on board, it wasn't going to work out. He tuned back into the conversation.

"I will not have him constantly around us, I will not have to listen to his slimy, racist ideals and I will certainly not have to stand to look at his ugly, pointed face."

"Is that the best you can do?" Draco asked dully. "I'm so hurt."

"Fuck you," Weasley seethed.

"Ron, okay, that's it, I tried being nice about this, but now I'm just going to fucking say it," said Harry, gripping Draco's hand tighter. "I'm not here to ask for your permission. You're not my mum. I came here looking for your support, and if you're not going to give it to me, then we're going to have a serious problem."

"My mum wouldn't be very happy with this arrangement, either," said Weasley, "and I know it."

"I don't answer to her," said Harry. "I love your mum like she's my own, because I basically am, but I am an adult who is free to make my own choices, and if those choices include Draco, then you're going to have to suck it up and cope."

What Draco heard Harry saying was that if Weasley didn't support them, then there would be a problem with Weasley, not Draco. What?

"Harry, can't you see this is insane? You've lost the plot! You hated him for years. All you could talk about was how much you wanted to hex his brains out-"

"More like fuck his brains out," Hermione muttered. Draco glared at her.

"Things change, Ron," said Harry shortly.

"Clearly. I don't have to take this shit."

Before Hermione or anyone else could stop him, Weasley stomped away.

Suddenly, Draco remembered something.
"I thought he forgave me," he told Harry. "You said he was going to forgive me."

"He was. I-I mean he did," said Harry. "But this is a lot for him to take on. He needs some time."

Draco sighed. "I knew this would be too hard. I don't want to come in between you and your best friend."

"Hey, who said anything about too hard? You aren't going to come in between anything, because I- Because I care about you a lot, and I'm not going to let you go just because my tosser of a best friend isn't ready to accept you."

Draco felt the oncomings of a smile. "You mean that?"

"Every word." Harry's emerald eyes bore deep into his, and in that moment Draco would have believed anything he'd said.

"It's getting late," said Hermione. "I think I'm going to turn in. I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

Harry nodded at her and bid her goodnight. Draco did the same.

Before Draco could say anything else to Harry, however, he heard footsteps, along with a nasty voice.

"Well, well, well. Look what we have here."