Lunch was painless.

Arranging to have monies changed to Muggle funds and sent over to the furniture store to pay for whatever monstrosities Ginny had picked out was painless.

Walking back to the Black townhouse was painless. The three of them stopped at a flower stand outside a small grocer and Harry and Draco made a show of arguing about which flowers they ought to get for Ginny while she rolled her eyes and laughed at them both. They had so much Muggle money left that they bought one of each and she walked home, her arms so laden down with blooms you could barely see the woman behind the petals.

Harry got the door and Draco brushed past him with a smug comment about how footmen were supposed to hold doors, and Ginny pulled one stem out and bapped him on the head with it. "Behave," she said, but there was a fondness to the admonition. The fondness grew when she dumped the flowers onto a dark side table that, while it might have been an invaluable antique, was, upon due reflection, also hideous. And heavy. And the carved gargoyles on the balls of the feet of the thing, suffering miserably, made it more than a little creepy.

Maybe the pink chair wasn't so bad.

He could learn to like pink.

Ginny followed him into the sitting room they'd officially refurnished and laughed at his face. The carpets were worn. The paintings were bad. The furniture looked like it was waiting to die. "Do you think we could just bin the lot?" he asked.

Harry had come in behind them. "It isn't your house," he said.

Draco accioed a book from the shelf. A cloud of dust followed it and he could hear the squeak of some creature, angry at being disturbed. He hoped it was something as innocuous as a mouse but, given this was the family home of the ancient and insane house of Black, whatever it was probably ate mice and made pyres of their bones. He opened the book. It hissed. He closed it again as quickly as he could because, under it all, he was a coward and had no interest in whatever ugliness the words in that book would reveal. "You can't want this," he said, shaking the book.

"It's just that it was Sirius' house," Harry said a little helplessly. "I can't – "'

"He hated this place," Ginny said. "You can."

"Maybe," Harry began.

Draco lobbed the book at him. It wasn't a hard throw. It wasn't malicious. It was almost playful. Harry snatched the book from the air and looked at the title. "How to Mount Elf Heads at Home," he said in horror. He threw the book back at Draco. "You had to pick that one?"

"It was just random," Draco said. He accioed another book. The Problem with Muggle-Borns: Filth in Our Midst. He tossed that one over. Harry made a face when he saw what it was and threw it into the fireplace.

"Since when do you care about prejudiced pure-blood arseholes?" Harry asked.

"I don't," Draco said. He threw another book. "But your friend, bushy and horrible, might not feel welcome if you're keeping shite like that on the shelves."

"Bushy and horrible?" Harry asked. Draco shrugged. It was a good description of the girl who'd trailed after him for years. You couldn't watch Harry Potter without getting an eyeful of Hermione Granger. An unpleasant eyeful. He flicked his wand at the fireplace and the offensive book burst into flame.

"Are we sure that draws?" Ginny asked, but it was too late. Draco was making the books sail across the room and Harry had pulled an umbrella out of a stand and, while avoiding the mouth at the base that wanted to bite of his fingers, he was whacking the books out of the air.

"She's not horrible," he said.

"She does call him the ferret," Ginny said, ducking out of the way of a book that went astray. "And Luna, Looney."

"We'd be dead if it weren't for her," Harry said. Draco sent another book at him. What must it be like to have that kind of loyalty focused on you? His mother felt that way, of course, but there were books about boys who got too close to their mums, and they weren't romances. Horror stories, maybe. He wasn't the sort to inspire friends to defend him the way Harry defended Granger. Even Goyle had abandoned him in the end. Even Pansy.

He threw the next book so hard its spine broke when Harry whacked it with the umbrella.

"I'll be upstairs," Ginny said.

They both ignored her.

"Why do you hate your aunt," Draco asked. "Did she not give you all the sweets you wanted? Not think you were the precious Chosen One?"

He lobbed another book at Harry, who snatched this one from the air with a hand and hurled it into the fire place. Black smoke billowed up and a horrid screech came from the pages as they burned. That one, apparently, had been one of those Dark texts. Draco hoped precious knowledge from the past had just been lost. He hoped they'd destroyed the last copy of some foul spell only people like the Blacks would have kept alive.

"Fuck you," Harry said.

"Hah," Draco said. Another book hit the umbrella. "You wish."

He threw another book, this time using his hands instead of just a charm, and hurled it as hard as he could at Harry's head. He ducked and the book smashed into the wall. "She locked me in the fucking cupboard," he said.

Draco had another book in his hand, ready to throw it. His hand stopped midair and the force of his own momentum drove him to take a few steps towards Harry. "She did what?" he asked.

Harry was panting, which had to be rage. "First in a closet," he said, "then in my room."

"Go out the window," Draco said. Harry had spent most of their time at Hogwarts sneaking around. He couldn't believe one lousy locked Muggle door would keep him anywhere.

Until he said, "Bars on the window."

Draco lowered the book and stared at Harry Potter. Green eyes. Black hair. The Chosen One. Scar on his forehead. Another one on his hand because he'd been too stubborn to cave to Dolores Umbridge. "Locked in a closet," he said. He turned and walked away, book still in one hand, and looked out the window at the square. Muggles were walking by. The place was so quaint it was picturesque. He didn't know what to say.

"Make you feel better?" Harry asked. It was almost a taunt but not quite. It was almost desperation but not quite. "My life was utter shite growing up. Being chosen meant I got nothing."

"Why did you save me?" Draco asked. The words were quiet.

"It wasn't fair," Harry said. "You were a -."

"Don't fucking lie to me," Draco said. He turned around and put on as mocking a smile as he could and let his eyes fall to the back of Harry's hand. "You must not tell lies, remember?"

"It wasn't fair," Harry said again.

This time the words flung themselves at him and Draco had to wonder what it was he wanted the other man to say. What fantasy could he not even articulate to himself? He shrugged and slouched and gave whatever it was up. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to happen. "None of it was," he said. "A fucking closet? What the hell?"

Harry deflated. "Yeah," he said.

"At least tell me it was a walk-in," Draco said. He knew it wasn't. He wasn't quite sure what kind of people locked a child in a closet, but he was willing to guess that sort didn't pick the nice closet for the abuse.

Harry let out a chuff that tried to be a laugh. "Under the stairs," he said.

"God," Draco said. "That sucks."

His feet carried him to a chair and he sank down into it without bothering to check if it had some kind of monster lurking in the cushions. One of the feet hissed at him but he closed his eyes, too tired to even pretend to fight any more and certainly too tired to battle furniture. They were definitely throwing this piece away. Let it complain he had the nerve to sit on it. It could tell its sorrows to the rubbish heap in a few hours.

"Yeah," Harry said. "It did."

"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I could curse them," he offered, his eyes still closed. He'd learned a few things with Voldemort in the house. None of them were very nice. Many of them were untraceable and undetectable. He should know. He'd felt them.

"After all the trouble we went to get you out of prison?" Harry said. "Fucking ungrateful sot."

Draco could feel his hackles rise a little, but when he pried open an eye and peered at Harry Potter, the man was grinning at him. It lit up his face. It made those green eyes sparkle with mischief.

"Haven't even consummated my marriage yet," Draco said, testing the waters. "Maybe I should at least wait for that before I get myself hauled back off to prison."

Harry tensed for a moment, then said, just as cautiously, "Well, yes, if you're going to hex my aunt, you shouldn't risk pissing off Ginny before."

"She'd get offended," Draco said a little more confidently, "probably hex me herself. I'd be in no shape to go after your shitfest of a family."

"She would," Harry agreed. "And then you'd condemn me to live in a pink house without you."

Draco had sunk lower into the chair and dropped his eyes to the worn rug. Half a snake slithered along the pattern, pinned in place by a worn spot that bared the warp threads. At Harry's word's he jerked his attention back up and stared at the man. "You don't want me here," he said. "We both know I'm a mistake you're stuck with."

"Well," Harry said, "some wizards are better than others and all."

Draco could feel his mouth pull taut in an attempt not to break down at that. Words were knives and he'd wielded his share of them in the past. He'd cut as deeply as he could and payback always came eventually.

"But you seem to be willing to put up with me, so the least I can do is return the favor."

"You're the Chosen One," Draco said. "I'm -." He was going to say he was nothing, he was a failure and barely not in prison. He was going to say he hadn't been able to be good and decent and he hadn't been able to be a Death Eater. He'd mangled everything, right from the start. "I'm just the guy you rescued," he said instead. The words were flat and inadequate.

"No one else gets it," Harry said. Draco was about to ask what he meant, but there was a raw edge to the words that kept his mouth shut. "Ginny does, to some extent. Hermione tries. Ron tries. But they were never the one the hand of fate landed on and said, You do it."

"I wasn't either." Honesty made him say that.

"Voldemort singled you out," Harry said. He turned to look away. "It's not the same, I know, but maybe I hoped you'd… it's stupid."

"It was awful," Draco said. He didn't want to talk about it. Not now. Probably not ever. "I felt like I couldn't breathe most of the time."

"I know," Harry said. "Me too."

"At least you were the good guy."

Harry let out a huff that sounded sad. "Yeah," he said. "That makes the nightmares so much better."

"Snakes," Draco said. When Harry looked over at him he shrugged. "Mine are usually of snakes." He dreamt snakes eating people while he was forced to watch, snakes eating him, snakes watching other people come toward him, wands drawn, lips pulled back into rictus grimaces that, somehow, were always the worst part. He hated the dreams.

"I liked snakes as a kid," Harry said. "There was one at the zoo once. He was nice."

Draco had forgotten Harry could talk to the awful things. "Great," he said.

"Another thing Voldemort ruined," Harry said. "Like everything else."

"Not you," Draco said. The words felt too real and he wanted to take them back but it was too late. "He ruined me, he ruined my family, he ruined Hogwarts, but he didn't ruin you."

"I'm pretty ruined," Harry said. "It's just that no one sees it."

Draco stood up at that. Harry was still at the window and he turned to look back out. His shoulders were slender. They had the same Seeker's build, but Harry had never broken, never pointed a wand at an innocent person. He'd probably never even cast a single unforgivable. The idea he saw himself as ruined seemed unbearable. Draco's feet were across the room and his hand on Harry Potter's shoulder before he could talk himself out of it. "Well," he said. "I could probably beat you in a race for the Snitch, but I don't think that quite qualifies as ruined. Loser, maybe."

Harry turned and their faces were so close. Too close. Before Draco could step back and put distance between them Harry asked, "Is that a dare?"

. . . . . . . . . .

A/N – Thank you to weirdhunterangel and velvetcovered-brick for beta reading.