Chapter Summary: Harry's visit to Malfoy Manor makes for a holiday season he won't soon forget.

AN: Just want to start off with an apology as this chapter took significantly longer for me to write than the others. I've been quite sick which hasn't helped, but it's also a long one. I knew it'd be a bit of a doozy going in. And I probably should have separated it into two or three parts, but I really wanted to keep it together as one. Hope the wait has been worth it, please enjoy! Also thank you to everyone who left kind comments on the previous chapter, means a lot.

After the Rain Falls
Chapter 7: Make Hay While the Sun Shines

Harry braced himself on the interior wall of the Hogwarts Express, staggering as he stumbled to the side with its rocking motion. Ron steadied him, pulling him along gently while Hermione peered through the cabin windows in search of an unclaimed room. He was beyond nervous. Merely going through the motions as his friends guided him further into the train.

For some reason it didn't feel real. Like he wasn't about to walk into one of the hideouts of their greatest enemy during the war. The Malfoy family home. Surely, he hadn't agreed to that. Surely, all of this was just his imagination running wild. But then he saw Draco, watching him carefully from where he stood outside one of the compartments a bit down the teetering car, and he knew it wasn't his imagination at all.

"Oh," Hermione breathed, after following Harry's gaze where he stared blankly ahead. "He's waiting for you."

Harry glanced towards her, heart racing as he stuttered, "A-are you sure? He might be waiting for someone else."

She made a face, before putting her hands on her hips and frowning at him. "Don't be daft, you're travelling with him, of course he's waiting for you," she insisted.

For some reason, the thought of sitting with Draco on the train hadn't even occurred to Harry. He'd foolishly thought he'd have the duration of the ride to spend with his friends while he attempted to control his scattered thoughts. Harry exhaled, grasping at the front of his robes as he struggled to get a hold of his nerves. "Ron?" he sounded, looking towards his friend with pleading eyes.

Ron fell back against the opposite wall and held his arms up in resignation. "Don't look at me, this was your brilliant idea, remember?" Harry practically whimpered. Where was his Gryffindor courage now? Back at the castle it seemed. Where he should have been as well.

Hermione moved behind him, hurriedly pushing him down the corridor, and he tripped over the base of his cloak slightly and looked back at her in horror. "We'll see you after the holidays. Now, go, sit with him," she ushered, waving him on encouragingly. He looked again towards Draco, and then sighed, sending one last glance back towards his friends. Hermione was watching him with a pleased grin on her face, and Ron shrugged and mouthed a 'good luck' over her shoulder. Prat.

Draco pushed away from the wall as Harry approached, standing tall and looking down at him with a guarded expression. His hands were in his pockets, and he would have looked completely at ease, if not for the slight twitch in his jaw.

"Hi," Harry blurted, and he winced and ducked his head at how stupid it sounded.

Draco eyed him for a moment before greeting him back. "…Hi."

There was a lengthy pause, during which the two of them stood across from one another in complete silence, and Harry fidgeted with his sleeves before rambling and gesturing behind himself, "If it's not alright I can-,"

"It's fine."

At that Draco turned and slid the nearest compartment door open with a whoosh. He ducked down a bit to enter, pausing to make sure Harry followed behind him. It was strange, walking into a den of Slytherins without anyone to back him up. He felt a bit out of sorts, and struggled to keep his hand from reaching for his wand when three sets of calculating eyes peered up in his direction. The door shut behind him, and Harry flinched at the sound of the lock sliding in place, heart in his throat as glanced quickly around the cabin.

"You know Pansy," Draco started, gesturing towards the closest seat on the left bench, and then he waved at the other two occupied seats and continued, "Gregory, and Blaise." Harry was surprised when each of them offered him a simple nod of acknowledgement, and he returned the motion in kind, before getting ushered into a seat on the right between Draco and Blaise.

Harry sat stiffly atop the bench, hands pressed flat against his knees. He was beginning to sweat, and his eyes darted around the compartment anxiously. He felt like a sheep in a wolf's den, and he was surprised by how relaxed they all seemed. Not in the least bit bothered by his presence. In fact, it was almost like there was nothing out of the ordinary at all. They must have been expecting him.

Goyle, or Gregory as Draco had called him, was reading a book, and Harry ogled the cover openly until Gregory caught his gaze over the top of it and flipped it up slightly to make it easier for him to read the title. Harry flinched away awkwardly, but not before making out The Tales and Tribulations of Barnaby the Brave etched in gold leaf. It must have been an adventure novel of some sort. It was something Harry never would have imagined the Slytherin doing, indulging in fiction. But perhaps Harry's impression had always been wrong.

Pansy was fiddling with a spell of some kind, changing the designs on her nails repeatedly until she found one that was satisfying. She tinkered with them, placing little decorations precisely, and then held out her hand to observe them between each addition. She caught him looking at one point too, and smirked before asking, "Want me to do yours?"

Harry flushed and looked down. "No thank you."

"Pity," she commented, and then she clucked her tongue and returned to her work with a sigh.

Harry allowed himself to listen to the quiet conversation between Blaise and Draco after that. He tried not to sink lower atop the bench as the two spoke from either side of him, complaining about their thesis project for the mediwizard course, a class they were both apparently enrolled in. Eventually Harry relaxed enough that his fingers were no longer devoid of blood from the strain of gripping his knees.

"At least you have a topic of study. Nearly halfway through the year and I still don't have the faintest idea what to focus my research on," Draco complained. He was slumped against the compartment window, one leg crossed over the other as he stared at Blaise over Harry's head.

Blaise chuckled, but offered him a reassuring grin and said, "You'll figure it out."

Draco sighed and then the conversation moved on to other topics, like their plans for the new year, and gifts they hoped to receive, as well as the best memories from term so far. Pansy recounted a story from their time cleaning up the Statue Hall in the dungeons, in which Peeves had appeared suddenly from within a statue of Salazar Slytherin causing Draco to shriek for a solid minute in a tone three octaves higher than his usual timbre. Draco bristled while the rest of them laughed at his expense, and even Harry had to cover his mouth to hold in the snickers that burst free at Pansy's overzealous description of Draco's fearful expression.

"Think that's funny do you," Draco drawled. He was slumped in his seat, head tilted back as he side eyed Harry with a playful sneer, clearly resigned to the mockery.

Harry let out one last muffled giggle and blurted, "Yes, actually, very much so." Draco groaned, and then he reached an arm around him and ruffled his hair. Harry swatted him away, but not before Draco had made an absolute mess of his already disastrous curls.

"I'll do you one better," Draco started. "Believe it or not, this one turned the heads of his entire row, and Flitwick into overgrown Blueberries in Advanced Charms class this year," Draco jeered, his eyebrow raised as Harry flushed vividly at the memory.

"That was an accident!" Harry shouted, and then Pansy snorted, while Blaise threw his head back in laughter. Even Gregory grinned over the pages of his book.

"You should have seen it, the lot of them walking around with heads three times their natural size, all plump and ready for picking," Draco continued.

"Bet Flitwick was right impressed!" Pansy blurted as she slapped a hand against her leg at the imagery.

"Never seen him so flustered. Potter, you looked like you'd swallowed a bee, following after him in a trail through the halls. Bet Pomfrey had a good laugh when half of Gryffindor house strolled into the Hospital Wing as talking fruit."

Harry ducked his head as he tried to hide his flaming face. He sighed, grinning slightly as he remembered the incident vividly. The usually stoic Madame Pomfrey had struggled to hide the twitches in her lips as she listened to a stuttering Flitwick explain the events while standing in front of half his blueberry laden class.

"How many detentions did you get for that? Five? Six?"

"Shut up," Harry groaned. He glanced to the side, catching sight of Draco's satisfied smirk. "If you must know it was twelve." He snorted and then quickly added, "One for each blueberry." The laughter continued around him as Harry scratched at the back of his head. He eased down in his seat while the stories continued, listening as the group of Slytherins relayed several more rather eventful incidents from earlier in the year. He watched Draco's animated movements, clearly in his element as he shot out witty remarks and occasionally pulled Harry into the conversation. It was with his cheeks flushed and strained from smiling so widely that Harry suddenly realized, they might be…considered friends.

Harry didn't spot Ron or Hermione when he disembarked from the train, and he peered around the platform curiously. Out of instinct Harry began making his way towards the brick archway that lead back to King's Cross Station, only to stop in his tracks when Draco wrapped his fingers tightly around his elbow.

"Not that way Potter," Draco voiced. Then he tilted his head to the right and pulled Harry along beside him. They walked into a large circular atrium of sorts, where Draco grabbed their luggage and pulled him into the centre. "This is the wizarding entrance." Upon closer look, Harry could see several alcoves framing the entire exterior, featuring floos, as well as a portkey station and broomstick rental. He couldn't believe he'd never set foot inside before. But the need had never been there.

"Are you comfortable with Apparition?" Draco asked, and Harry nodded slowly.

"It's not my favourite way to travel, but…it will be fine."

Draco leaned down to grab onto the handle of his trunk, then said, "Hold on to my arm, and don't let go of your trunk." Not a moment later and the familiar compression across his body caused Harry to wince, while his grip around Draco tightened. He gasped when the pressure released, stumbling forward slightly before catching his breath. It hadn't been as bad as he recalled, but it was still unpleasant. He glanced up to find Draco watching him, and then looked beyond him, and swallowed at the sight of the decorative gates that stood in front of Malfoy Manor.

They were immediately greeted by two house elves who relocated their trunks, and then the gates opened and Draco guided him down the long pathway leading up to the home. Harry shuffled along behind him, taking in the grounds curiously. His past visit hadn't particularly allowed him to do so. The manor was surrounded by intricate landscaping, though he couldn't see much of it beyond the large hedge walls that lined the path. Behind the property were forests and rolling hills, and Harry wondered what it must have been like to grow up in such an isolated place. Snow crunched beneath their feet, and Harry couldn't help but wonder what it might look like in the midst of spring, when the blossoms on the many bushes and shrubs would have been in full bloom.

"It's…brighter than I remember," Harry said, as they walked through the front door and into the entrance hall. There was a large candlelit chandelier hanging high above, and several pieces of art on the walls that softened the appearance of the dark stone greatly, however the high ceilings and gothic architecture still felt rather imposing.

"Remarkable what a difference it makes," Draco muttered, and then he leaned in close to finish, "Not having a Dark Lord living under your roof." His breath tickled at Harry's ear, and Harry turned to look at him in surprise, only to startle further when loud clacking came from a nearby hall.

Narcissa Malfoy appeared from beneath an ornate archway, pausing briefly before hurrying forwards to greet them. "Ah, Draco! And…Mr. Potter, welcome," Narcissa spoke gently. She reached out to touch Draco's face fondly, and then ushered them towards the stairs. "You must both be tired from the travel. There's a guest room prepared, Draco I trust you'll show him."

Draco faced her at the bottom step with a polite smile and said, "Yes mother, thank you." Then he beckoned Harry to follow him up the long winding staircase. All of the tension from earlier that day had returned to Harry's body, and he took each step slowly, berating himself mentally for his rash decision making. As he reached the top step he had managed to somewhat get a hold of himself, but then Harry's breath hitched when he saw Lucius Malfoy standing in the middle of the hallway ahead.

He was just as tall as Harry remembered, clearly where Draco got his height from, and when he turned to face them his long cloak swayed elegantly around his form. The last time Harry had seen him had been in the court room, looking gaunt and worn from days of enduring the stresses that came with serving Voldemort. All of that was gone now, and he looked almost as he had when Harry had first seen him in Borgin and Burkes, though with significant streaks of grey now lining his long hair.

"Draco," Lucius drawled as he stepped towards them at the top of the stairs, cane clacking against the stone floor on his way.

"Father."

Harry kept himself half hidden behind Draco as he watched, glancing quickly backwards, instinctively checking for a potential escape. A survival instinct that couldn't quite be quelled, no matter if the Malfoys had changed since the war.

"I trust your studies are going well?"

"Yes, sir," Draco replied with a nod.

"Hmm. Good." Lucius's gaze slid towards Harry then, and as always, he struggled slightly not to cower beneath the stare. It was strangely easier this time, as Lucius's cold eyes lacked their usual malice, instead studying Harry somewhat emotionlessly. Harry wasn't quite sure what he was looking for, but eventually Lucius straightened and uttered a simple, "Mr. Potter." He looked back at Draco one last time before twisting around them and making his way down the stairs.

As the footsteps faded away, Draco turned towards him and let out a stifled laugh. "Relax, Potter. No one here will hex you." He shook his head and rolled his eyes, then continued making his way down the hallway. After a few twists and turns they came upon a tall door that Draco opened and directed him to enter through. "You'll sleep here, I'm across the hall," Draco said, and Harry gaped at the interior as he set foot inside.

"This is your guest room?" Harry muttered, staring around the spacious chamber and taking in the elegant four poster bed with drapery hanging around the sides.

"One of them, yes," Draco commented. "Does it meet your needs?"

All Harry could do was nod. It was a bit like the first time he'd walked into Gryffindor tower, completely overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of everything. This was much the same, though the colours of the fabrics were soft blues, greys, and blacks, instead of the maroon and gold he'd grown used to. He walked around the room slowly as Draco inched in behind him, catching sight of his trunk before he spotted a full table full of food and two empty plates waiting to be filled.

"Oh, we won't eat…with your family?" Harry asked, and when he turned back Draco had already removed his cloak and left it draped over the top of a satin chair.

"Not tonight," he said. "I…prefer to avoid the drawing room whenever possible." At Harry's questioning glance Draco shifted and added, "I've found it…difficult to continue sitting at the same table where The Dark Lord often murdered and tortured his victims. Tends to cause a lack of appetite." Harry's eyes widened and he watched as Draco picked up one of the plates and began loading it up with food. "Mother and Father understand. But, we will join them for a dinner on Christmas Day, if that's acceptable with you." Draco looked at him and Harry nodded before quickly filling a plate of his own.

To Harry's surprise Draco sat on the floor to eat, crossing his legs as he bent low to pull something out from beneath the bed. "Now I know you're miserable at Wizard's Chess, but perhaps a game of Wizard Skittles?"

"…Wizard Skittles?" Harry wondered, and he knelt across from him, taking a quick bite on the way.

Draco peered at him with a raised eyebrow, sliding a box in between them. "Don't tell me you've never played?" At Harry's quick head shake Draco smirked and started setting up the game. "Well Potter, you're in for a treat."

It was the middle of the night when Harry woke up screaming, grappling against the heavy duvet atop his body. He couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming about, but he was filled with dread and an absolute sense of horror, and the shouts that tore apart his throat were loud enough to wake an entire household. He realized with a belated dismay that he'd done just that, when Draco came running into the room wearing a pair of silk pyjama pants and a nightgown wrapped hastily around his waist.

"I'm sorry," Harry gasped as Draco helped to free him from his tangled bedding. "I'm sorry I forgot the silencing charm." He was shaking, reaching for his glasses and wand, but Draco caught his arm before he could and helped him sit up atop the bed instead.

"I thought you were being murdered," Draco blurted, while Harry caught his breath. He watched Harry intently as he leaned over him, hands clenching in the blankets aimlessly.

Harry sighed and let his head fall back against the bedframe with a thunk. "I probably was," he muttered. His cheeks were cold, laced with streaks of water from his tears. He wiped at them harshly and took another shaky breath. "I'll be fine," he spoke, but his words weren't terribly convincing.

"Are you…sure you're okay?" Draco whispered. Harry nodded, but he looked down at his lap and winced as his eyes teared up again, failing miserably at masking the sniffles that followed. "I could…I could stay, if you want," Draco offered.

Harry could barely see him, the water pooling in his eyes only worsening his already blurred vision. But Draco's tone was soft, worried, even, and Harry found he really didn't want to be left alone to dwell in the silence of the night. "Okay."

He wasn't sure when they fell asleep, didn't even remember lying back down beneath the blankets, but he woke up to one of Draco's legs sprawled half across his body and the sunlight streaming in through a bay window. He reached for his glasses lazily, turning his head to the side after his vision cleared, and sure enough, Draco was still asleep and drooling against the pillow beside him. It was just so…human. And the thought struck him as unusual, because of course Draco was human. But a part of him had always viewed him as above that sort of thing, different than the rest of them.

Harry twisted beneath Draco's limb, turning to face him, and he laughed when Draco groaned in displeasure at being suddenly woken. One of Draco's eyes blinked open wearily, before closing immediately at the sight of him. "Shut up," Draco muttered. It came out hoarse, deeper and more gravelly than his usual tone, and Harry was unwilling to admit how much he enjoyed the sound of it.

Among the many rooms hidden within Malfoy Manor was an immaculate potions lab that probably rivalled those of the greatest potions masters in the wizarding world. It was stocked full of books and a variety of ingredients that Harry was sure weren't entirely legal. Draco hadn't been lying when he said the manor had more resources at its disposal. It was way beyond what Harry had imagined.

The tables throughout the room were covered in other experiments they had run, crossing a variety of ingredients together to find things that were synergetic. He and Draco sat on the floor, several cauldrons between them as they looked down at their notes and prepared ingredients for brewing. Harry had just finished precisely chopping some cat's claw and he scooped it into one of the cauldrons and stirred in some chamomile. After it boiled long enough, and he sifted out the chunks, it would create a new extract, a technique he'd learned from the man sitting across from him. He shifted his legs and sat back to wait, keeping an eye on the bubbling liquid as he watched Draco cross something out in their notes before sprinkling several leaves into one of the other cauldrons.

Harry took in Draco's soft grey sweater and slacks with a searching gaze. The shirt matched his eyes, and hung low across his neck, highlighting his shoulders which were far broader than Harry had ever noticed. He looked much more casual than Harry was used to seeing him, and Harry didn't feel nearly as out of place as he thought he might, wearing his loose fitting muggle clothes.

"You're actually quite good with potions," Harry commented, watching as Draco organized several ingredients into the specific quantities needed for each batch.

Draco spared him a glance and shrugged before responding, "I'm okay, not great in truth." He picked up one of the ingredient vials and wrote something on the label before slotting it away in the proper place. "I don't enjoy the process all that much. But it's a requirement for being a mediwizard. I'm better with spells. Manipulating them, finding new wand formation techniques and so on." Draco sat back on his arms then and waved one of his hands around as he spoke. "There are all of these slight nuances to spell casting, from intent, to focus, and hand formations. I've been fascinated with spell casting since I was quite young." While Harry stirred the extract in the opposite direction, counting to twenty under his breath, Draco waited, and then he spoke up again when Harry set down his wand. "Actually…I wanted to be a curse breaker for a long time."

"Why didn't you pursue it?" Harry asked.

Draco sighed and straightened his sweater as he waved away some of the smoke billowing up in the room. "Too much theory, memorization. I'm not terrible at that but I've always been better with practical application."

Harry smiled slightly and looked down. Even he had to admit that Draco was quite good with spell casting. Perhaps he'd had the advantage of learning in a magical environment, but even at a young age Draco had excelled at duelling. Able to cast a variety of spells that Harry hadn't even come across in the books available to him.

"Granger would excel as a curse breaker," Draco mentioned out of nowhere, and Harry eyed him in surprise.

"Oh?"

"She's strong with Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, and good with theory, but less skilled when it comes to the practical application of overly complex spells," Draco commented.

Something about the last part bothered Harry though, and he frowned and crossed his arms before responding, "Hermione's a great witch."

"I didn't say she wasn't," Draco asserted. He stared at Harry intently, leaning heavily on one arm. "I'm just pointing out her strengths and weaknesses Potter. All of us have them."

Harry deflated a bit at that, and wiped his fingers against his knees as he turned away from Draco's stare. "Sorry, you're right," he muttered.

There was a brief silence between them, and then Draco spoke up again. "It used to anger me."

"What?"

"How much better than me she was at the very thing I wanted to do more than anything," Draco said. Harry looked up at him curiously. He didn't look angry now. In fact, he looked relaxed, like he was simply stating a fact.

"And now?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco smirked at him and ducked his head slightly. When he looked back at Harry it was with a dashing grin and Harry wondered why the sight of that sent his heart racing into another dimension. "Let's just say I've let it go and leave it at that," Draco said. "I have my own skillset, and my own goals. What about you? An Auror I assume. Both you and Weasley?"

Harry faltered at the question, clasping his fingers together tightly in his lap. "Ron can't," he started, glancing off to the side as he wondered if it was okay to talk about it. He pondered it for a moment, but when he met Draco's genuinely perplexed frown he decided to share. Draco had been honest with him, after all. The least he could do was return the favour. "He's…too unstable. It's hard to explain but, there was this brain thing in…the ministry," Harry started, and Draco's frown deepened as he listened intently. "It grabbed on to him and…well turns out it messed with him a bit more than we thought." His cauldron started to bubble and he jolted, reducing the heat slightly and waiting for it to settle before continuing. "There were signs not long after that, we just didn't realize right away. And it only got worse during the war. After wearing a Horcrux around his neck for weeks."

Draco opened his mouth and nodded in acknowledgement, understanding a bit better after his explanation. "Life in the field would only trigger extreme reactions. He's better off in a less chaotic environment," Harry added, and he stretched out his legs a bit and then dragged over a box of Skullcap to work on picking out the petals. "He's planning to help George and Percy out with the joke shop, designing new games and the such."

Draco chuckled slightly, and when Harry looked up at him he said, "He does have a tactical mind, but I wouldn't say that'd be less chaotic, would you?" Harry just grinned before looking back down. "And you? What did you want to be as a kid?"

He knew it was coming, but Harry still paused and bit at his lower lip when he heard the question. It was one that was difficult for him to answer. "I…I didn't really have an aspiration. I didn't even find out I was a wizard 'til my 11th birthday."

Draco gawked at him. "That was for real?"

"Turns out not everything in the Daily Prophet is drivel," Harry commented.

"Most of it is."

Harry sighed, and picked up a fresh stem, working his way from the top down. "My family weren't terribly fond of…strangeness. It was Hagrid who told me I was a wizard." He smiled slightly at the memory of the half giant storming in on them with a birthday cake. "He was my first friend." Harry looked up at Draco then and suddenly added, "Thanks for helping with the fair, by the way. It meant a lot, to Hagrid." And to me went left unsaid. There was something in Draco's gaze that made him feel as though it had been properly understood, however, and Harry flushed slightly and pulled the stem in his fingers a bit closer to his face, hoping his embarrassment would go unnoticed in the low lighting of the potions lab.

"Well, what about now? What do you want to be?" Draco pressed.

"Oh. Can't do much of anything can I? Not with my…whatever this is." Harry waved one of his hands vaguely at the side of his head and sighed.

Draco sat up, leaning forwards a bit to rest his elbows atop his knees. "I've never asked…what exactly it is that causes the seizures, and the headaches. I just assumed it was a residual effect of the Cruciatus curse. But, there's more to it, isn't there?" he questioned.

"I…," Harry started hesitantly. He glanced around the room anxiously, the Skullcap between his fingers forgotten. "It is…a bit more complicated than that, yeah." Harry breathed in and out through his nose, wondering how much he should share. It was close to his heart, something he didn't even really talk about with Ron or Hermione. He didn't think they would understand. He didn't think anyone would. But here Draco was, asking, and looking at him so intently. Ready to listen, to whatever he had to say.

"There was a part of him inside of me, in my head," Harry gushed, the words sliding together as they came out a bit too quickly. "Voldemort," he clarified. "A Horecrux." He spared Draco a look, and unsurprisingly found himself being watched as though he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "Like I said, it's not all lies," Harry muttered lowly. Harry swallowed and ducked his head, letting his hands fall towards his lap. "I'm…I destroyed it but I can feel it still sometimes, you know? They say they can't find any sign of what's wrong, but…I know it's there. Dark magic leaves a trace right?" Harry insisted. He put the Skullcap down and threw his hand out to the side. "Just look at Neville's parents. Even if we can't see it, it's there. It will always be there, clinging to me somehow, like this dark void, and it pulses, and hurts," Harry trailed off, taking a steadying breath as he waited for Draco's reaction. But he was met with silence.

He heard scuffling on the floor, and jolted when Draco plopped down beside him and brushed back Harry's bangs to look at his brow. "Haven't the healers at St. Mungo's looked into it?" Draco asked, running a finger along his hairline while Harry stared at him warily.

"Yeah, they have," Harry said. "Even they can't figure out what's wrong with me."

Draco grabbed onto his knees and yanked, turning Harry to face him on the ground. Harry yelped and grappled at the floor to catch his balance, then froze when Draco peered into his eyes and held out his fingers at the edges of his face. "May I?" Harry frowned, pulling his head away reflexively. "Relax Potter, just a med scan," Draco muttered lowly.

"You're not going to mess me up more are you?"

"It's mediwizard 101, if I messed something like this up I don't deserve to call myself a wizard, let alone a healer," Draco claimed.

Harry relaxed slightly and let out a heavy breath of air. "Don't know what you think you'll see that's any different, but go ahead."

Draco's fingers lifted his chin and straightened his head back into place. And then he whispered a spell and moved his hands in several circular formations at the edges of Harry's temples. It wasn't the first scan of this sort that Harry had endured, and he watched as the familiar fuzzy image depicting his skull appeared between them. Draco frowned, twisting the scan around between his hands as he studied it intently, only to tilt his head to the side and grimace in frustration. "Huh, it really is unclear."

He spent a few more minutes looking, finally giving up and allowing the image to dissipate into thin air. Draco stared at him silently, grey eyes moving over his face rapidly as he placed a finger over his lips and scrunched up his brow. "You've given me an idea," he murmured.

Harry raised one of his eyebrows in question and asked, "For the potion?"

"No, for something else."

Draco didn't explain further, merely shimmied away from him slightly to turn back towards their work. "Nevermind for now," He said, waving Harry off. "Let's try adding more Nigella in this one. Have you got it prepared?" Harry perked up, reaching over to one of the boxes he'd labelled earlier in the day and opening it to reveal a bunch of finely ground black seeds. Draco grinned at him approvingly and Harry found it impossible to keep himself from grinning back.

Christmas Day arrived in the blink of an eye, and Harry woke early after a remarkably restful night. He stretched his arms and legs out atop the comfy bed and sat up quickly, tapping his hand on the bedside table several times until he came upon his glasses. He grinned widely when he slid them on and saw the small pile of gifts laid out on the table in the middle of the room. The sight never failed to surprise him. He didn't think he'd ever get used to it to be honest.

Harry slid from beneath the bedding, pulling on the nightgown Draco had loaned him to ward off the chill within the manor's walls at night. Harry dragged over a chair and sat down, eagerly working his way through his pile. He opened up the letters first, reading through them carefully and grinning at the thoughtful gifts from the Weasleys. He slipped on his new jumper immediately, smiling fondly at the Hippogriff design knitted across the front.

Aside from the packet of new test products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Ron had sent him a variety of sweets and a game of some kind, with the explicit directions that he was to learn how to play before his return to Hogwarts. Perhaps Draco would be willing. He set it aside and opened Hermione's gift next, laughing at the collection of quills and parchments she'd sent him, but appreciative of it nonetheless. There was a book as well, with information on the most scenic and unique magical locations around the world, and Harry flipped through it briefly, actually feeling quite excited to dive into it further.

Hagrid's gift was a little more difficult to decipher, but he finally realized it was a packet of mushed up and preserved trout slices that were likely meant to be used as snacks for Buckbeak. Unfortunately the smell was still very strong, so he wrapped them up and put them at the bottom of his trunk after casting an aroma spell on the interior. Hagrid had given him a special feather brush as well, which would keep him from aggravating the Hippogriff's sensitive skin during grooming sessions, and he set it atop the trout carefully, looking forward to using it on his return to school.

Harry figured he should have reached the end of his gifts by that point, but there was one left, sitting atop the table with a small envelope tied atop it. He pulled the letter away and turned it in his hands, faltering slightly at the sight of the Malfoy family crest stamped into the seal on the back. Harry swallowed nervously and cracked it open, sliding the piece of parchment from within. It read simply:

Potter,

Thought you should have this.

-Draco M.

Harry stared at the neat script in surprise, running his thumb over Draco's name as he glanced back towards the box sitting atop his table. He looked towards his door, and snatched the box up into his hands, hurrying out into the hallway. Harry came to a halt in front of Draco's room, lifting his hand to knock on the door, only to startle when it opened before he could. Draco blinked at him in surprise and then stared down at him, taking in Harry's knitted sweater, pyjama pants, and bare feet. In contrast, Draco was wearing what looked to be a brand new fitted waistcoat and pants. Harry's words got caught in his throat for a moment as he eyed him up and down, and then Draco leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms with a sly smile.

"Something the matter, Potter?" Draco drawled.

It was enough to shake Harry free from his trance and he looked down at the box between his fingers and stuttered, "Y-you…got me a gift?"

"You are my guest," Draco voiced, head tilting slightly forward. His hair fell out from behind his ear, casting the side of his face in shadow and he shook it back. "Well, aren't you going to open it?"

Harry jumped into action, hurriedly untying the ribbon wrapped around the decorative box before lifting the lid. He tucked it onto the bottom of the box, and reached in to pull out a sleek silver trinket. It had a glass panel across the front, and looked a bit like a stopwatch, with the gears that made it work visible from the outside. Except there were no numbers that he could see, just metal pieces that looked like the planets and various constellations in the sky.

"A…compass?" He asked, holding it carefully in the palm of his hand.

"Of sorts," Draco said. "It's a star tracker. This particular one tracks the star of Sirius, showing you where it is relative to you in the sky." Then Draco pushed away from the doorframe and reached out to flip the tracker over, revealing the engraving on the back.

Welcome to the Noble
and Most Ancient House of Black

Sirius

November 3rd, 1959

Harry gasped and ran his thumb over the etched words, and then he looked up at Draco with questioning eyes. "H-how?"

Draco shifted, putting his hands into his pockets as he glanced around casually. "There're plenty of family relics hidden throughout the manor. When his name was burned from the Black tapestry, many of his belongings found their way into stray hands," Draco explained. "Sirius was my cousin, you'll remember."

Harry turned it back over, watching as the tiny star of Sirius sparkled slightly beneath the rotating gears. He closed his hand around it tightly and held it close to his body. "Thank you," Harry whispered. When he looked up again Draco was staring back, however he quickly jerked his gaze away and then ran his fingers through his hair.

"There's something else too," Draco mentioned, shifting awkwardly on his feet. "But we have to go outside."

"Something else…what do you mean?"

Draco eyed him again, glancing down towards his bare feet. "Just get dressed."

After slipping on some proper pants and grabbing his cloak Draco took Harry outside and walked him through the grounds. The acres they owned were vast, and Harry was more than a little surprised to discover the Malfoys had their own owlery beyond the gardens. It wasn't as large as the one at Hogwarts, but it didn't need to be, housing significantly less birds in it throughout the year.

Harry followed Draco up the heavy stone steps of the tower, and grinned at the sight of the owls hooting and flapping their wings. They had plenty of places to hunt in the surrounding property, but morning snacks were clearly a welcome sight.

Draco scattered some treats about the ground around them, and they watched as a few of the owls took turns hopping down to grab a bite. Then Draco whistled loudly, a bit of an odd tune, and a darker feathered owl flew down and perched upon his arm. Its wings were dark brown, almost black in appearance, with spotted gold throughout. Large eyes darted around, bright yellow in colour, and flecked with streaks of orange like fire.

"We had some hatchlings earlier this year. This is one of them," Draco said. He immediately reached out to Harry who took the owl upon his arm with unfettered joy. The owl hopped up his shoulder, pecked at the side of his head gently and then inched into the crook of his neck like it wanted to sleep there. Harry laughed and patted down its back gently, which brought about several soft coos that tugged at Harry's heartstrings. "His name is Helios," Draco added. "He's yours, if you want him."

Harry's grin froze and he looked at Draco hesitantly. There was no way Draco was seriously giving him an owl. "A-are you sure?" Draco nodded and backed away, sitting down atop an interior stone frame. He watched Harry from there, and even smiled slightly when Helios nuzzled against Harry's face and flapped a wing up into his hair. "That's-,"

"It's fine, Potter. He needs a home," Draco said. He looked down at his lap, and tucked his hands deeper into the pockets of his cloak.

Harry suddenly felt guilty. He was staying in Draco's home, eating his food, using his resources for school…receiving gifts even. And what had he done in return? "I didn't get you anything," Harry muttered lowly.

"It's not an obligation, Potter. Don't stress about it," Draco said easily. He crossed his legs, and sat back, meeting Harry's gaze easily. He looked remarkably unbothered. "I gave you these things because I happened to come across them and thought they would be appreciated." He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world. And his expression was sincere, not masked by a sneer or smirk, but just as…Draco. Harry took a shaky breath and leaned into the silky feathers pushed up against his cheek.

If this was the real Draco Malfoy, he was very glad to have met him.

"They are," Harry voiced. "Appreciated." He clasped one hand tightly around the star tracker tucked away in his pocket and pressed his brow into Helios's head. He didn't think Draco would ever truly understand just how much.

The two of them walked throughout the gardens for the rest of the morning, watching the owls take flight up above. Harry and Draco both tried to point out Helios where he darted between the rest of the birds quickly, diving every so often to catch a field mouse in his beak. After munching on some sandwiches brought out to them by a house elf at the insistence of Narcissa, Harry looked up at the sky and let out a long drawn out sigh.

"I want to fly," Harry voiced. Then he turned towards Draco with a sad smile. "If I could do anything after graduating, it would be flying, as a seeker," he added. He glanced again up towards the birds circling overhead and tucked his arms behind his back. "It's…the only thing I really love to do. When I'm up there, it just feels…like nothing else matters. It's peaceful, even in the middle of a match." He lowered his head, gaze drifting off as he tried to remember the feeling. "Just me and the snitch, a simple goal. Something to focus on."

"Do you want to now?"

"What?"

"Go for a ride."

Harry glanced towards Draco with narrowed eyes, not quite sure how to answer. ''But I…,"

Then Draco pulled something out of his pocket and held it out between his thumb and forefinger. A glittering silver trick snitch. They were notoriously difficult to catch, and made for great practice, though not legal in professional play. Its wings flung out to the sides, vibrating eagerly as it awaited its release. And Harry's eyes widened and he looked towards Draco hesitantly.

"I won't let you fall to your death, Potter," Draco promised. Then he smirked and added, "Wouldn't want the ministry to investigate."

The two of them took off running, a race of a different kind as they hurried towards the broom storage tucked behind the manor. Draco's long stride gave him the advantage, especially in deep snow, and when Harry finally reached the doors, Draco was waiting for him with a pair of Air Wave Gold broomsticks in hand. They were top notch racing brooms, and though Harry's Starsweeper was still tucked somewhere on the bottom of his trunk, the Air Waves would do just fine, and keep things fair.

They stood next to each other, ready to take off at any moment. Draco held out his hand between them, the snitch vibrating relentlessly as it struggled to fly free. "Ready?" Draco asked, catching Harry's gaze from behind the glittering wings. Harry tightened his grip and nodded. He was nervous, of course, but his excitement at the prospect of flying once again far outweighed it.

The instant Draco parted his fingers they were off, chasing after the snitch as it shot like a light into the sky. Harry gasped as the air rushed through his hair, and he tightened his feet and leaned forwards, eyes darting around after the snitch. It was like a shooting star, disappearing and reappearing for only slight moments in time, which had him jerking the broom in widely different directions only to stop and backtrack immediately. He caught Draco's gaze as they flew side by side and grinned, inching ahead of him only to blink in surprise when Draco dove down to fly upside down beneath him. He looked down at him, met his intense stare, and then refocused on the flash of light that indicated the snitch had changed its course yet again.

The two of them flew like that well into the afternoon, occasionally stopping mid-air to shout at each other when they lost sight of the snitch entirely. Harry's cheeks were red from the biting cold air, but he had no intentions of stopping, not until he caught that snitch. They soared past the manor several times, and on one flyby Harry spotted Lucius standing at a window sipping leisurely on a drink. He blinked at him in surprise, and then Lucius motioned a toast and Harry's fingers tightened on the broom handle restlessly.

Draco knocked lightly into his side, pushing him off course, and he glared at him but relaxed when he noticed Draco's lopsided grin. He was so distracted that he completely missed the snowsquall ahead, and Harry yelped as his entire body crashed through the falling powder. He lifted an arm, trying to block his face until he worked his way through the worst of it, and then he slowed down to a stop mid-air. Harry blinked the snow from his eyes and took a second to rub beneath his glasses. When he looked up Draco was floating nearby, having stopped as well. He looked worried, but then burst suddenly into laughter, pointing at Harry's windblown hair and somewhat ragged appearance.

Harry flushed further if that was even possible, and he couldn't help but smile slightly as Draco practically collapsed atop his broom in a fit of laughter. Harry was struck by the way such genuine joy transformed Draco. It was like it softened his entire aura. His eyes glittered, and his smile was inviting, and Harry blatantly stared.

He wasn't sure how long the two of them floated there laughing together, but even the snitch must have been impatient waiting for them, as it popped up right between them and thrummed in place like it was taunting them. Harry breathed in quickly, glancing between the snitch and Draco several times, and then they both shot forward, reaching for its fluttering wings. Harry felt the metal graze his fingertips, and he squeezed his eyes closed and clasped his hand tightly around the sphere, jolting in surprise at the cold feeling against his palm. He'd caught it! But unfortunately his trajectory was too strong and Harry collided with Draco's body, knocking both of them from their brooms. They tumbled into a snowdrift, rolling across the ground ungracefully. Harry's back slammed down atop the snow, and then Draco collapsed on top of him with a grunt.

Harry shook his head atop the snow, and glanced up, where his arm lay high above his head, snitch still fluttering between his fingers. "Got it!" Harry breathed triumphantly. Draco eased himself up, hands pressing in the snow at Harry's sides, and he looked at Harry's hand, catching sight of the snitch's buzzing wings. He sighed slightly before looking back down at Harry.

Harry blinked up at him, grinning proudly at having beaten him to the snitch yet again. Harry's glasses were askew and a bit foggy, and Draco's face was cast in shadow, but he could still see the flush upon his skin. He was just as windblown as Harry was, his blond hair caked in ice as it hung down in chunks around his face. It was uncharacteristically messy. Harry flinched when a droplet of water fell from the strands against his nose but made no attempt to move otherwise.

Draco's eyes were focused on him intently, and Harry was unable to quite read his expression. Then suddenly Draco's hand was at the side of his face, fingertips settling against the skin of Harry's cheek. His thumb grazed Harry's lower lip, and then pressed down, catching on it ever so slightly, and Harry breathed in quickly as his mouth parted at the intimate touch. It felt like flames were dancing across his skin. His face burned beneath Draco's palm, and a shiver ran up his spine when Draco's gaze shifted down and back up again. Harry breathed out shakily. His glasses fogged a bit, and he swallowed. Draco watched the motion of his throat avidly, and then narrowed his eyes, and Harry felt a strange sensation fluttering in his chest. Like butterfly wings were tickling at his heart. Then Draco began inching closer towards him, casting him further into shadow. Harry's eyelashes fluttered, his breathing hitched, and then-

"Draco!"

The two of them startled, sitting up in the snow in a rush. It was suddenly abundantly clear that they were in the middle of the fields just behind the manor. Draco flew back away from him, twisting his head around towards the voice, while Harry sat motionlessly in place. In the distance, Pansy stood, jumping slightly as she waved at them excitedly. Draco scurried to his feet, and Harry did the same, snitch clasped tightly between his fingers as he pressed his hands against the front of his cloak and held on to it like a lifeline.

The snow was sparkling as the afternoon sun shone down on it, and Draco sat with Pansy in the gardens nibbling on some biscuits she'd brought along for the visit. Harry had opted to give them some time alone, and Draco watched as he walked through the snow with Helios firmly rooted upon his shoulder. Harry tugged on his cloak, pulling it tightly around himself, and Draco raised his head slightly in concern. The cold was finally settling into his bones as well, and they would have to go in soon, especially after getting soaked from their tumble in the snow. His jaw tightened as he remembered it. Remembered looking down into those perfect green eyes. So open and trusting. A trust he had no right to.

"Careful Draco, you're wearing your emotions on your sleeve," Pansy uttered at his side, and he jerked his gaze away from Harry and grabbed one of the biscuits before shoving it into his mouth. He glanced at her warily, and she studied him for a moment and sighed. "I was joking Draco, it's fine. You deserve happiness too."

"No I don't," he argued.

"Draco…," she trailed off, watching as he chewed. "We were all children," she tried, reaching out to touch his arm.

"I had choices."

She laughed then and pulled her hand away. "Death isn't a choice, not for a Slytherin."

She was right of course. Call it cowardliness, or self-preservation, perhaps even ambition, if you wanted to sugar-coat it. It made no difference. A Slytherin would never run willingly into their own death. No matter what else was at stake. It didn't make him feel any better about the things he'd done.

"It's not like it matters," he muttered, and then he looked back out towards Harry, watching as he twirled around with Helios hanging off the end of his wrist. The owl flapped his wings, but didn't let go, clearly enjoying the feeling of the wind on his feathers without having to put in any real effort. "He's into girls."

Pansy choked on her biscuit and burst into laughter like it was the funniest thing he'd ever said, and he eyed her in distaste. "No, he's not," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Draco stared at her with narrowed eyes. "He's dated a bunch of them."

"So? You have too, and we all know that means diddly," she commented, and then she leaned forwards and peered up at him, arms crossed over her knee.

"Why are you so sure?" Draco asked.

"I just am, Draco."

He considered her, expression morphing into something slightly hopeful, but then it dropped again and he leaned back against the wrought iron bench. "Even if he is…gay…he wouldn't want to be with me," Draco insisted.

"Gosh you're infuriating," Pansy drawled, and Draco scrunched up his face and sneered at her. She rolled her eyes then pulled something from her pocket, holding it out between them. "How long are you going to carry around this photograph like a lovesick Hufflepuff?"

Draco glanced at it, eyes widening when he recognized it as the newspaper clipping he'd carefully removed from the Daily Prophet. "Hey!" he shouted, and then snatched it from her fingers. "How'd you get this!" She stared at him knowingly, and he edged away from her, tucking away the photo of him and Harry inside his pocket. "It doesn't mean anything, it's just a photo."

"Sure, you should tell that to the empty box of Glacial Snowflakes you've got hidden away in your luggage," she teased, and the cold winter's flush upon Draco's skin deepened.

"You-!" he blurted, far too flustered to form a sentence, and then he hunched in on himself sourly when Pansy cackled loudly at his side.

The evening came quickly, and Harry and Draco hardly had time to get warmed up before they were summoned for Christmas dinner. Harry walked down the stairs and into the drawing room cautiously, tugging at his shirt as he followed in Draco's wake. The room looked significantly better than Harry remembered with the chandeliers back in place and the furniture arranged nicely around the walls. There was a fire lit in the hearth, and a warm glow cast throughout, light flickering up the tall walls. And though it looked welcoming, Harry could still imagine why Draco chose to avoid it.

He spotted Narcissa and Lucius sitting on each end of a new dinner table, dressed in luxurious robes for the occasion, and suddenly Draco's fashionable waistcoat made sense. Harry felt incredibly underdressed, even in the dress shirt and pants that Ginny had assured him he looked fantastic in.

The meal was awkward, but not terrible, and Harry busied himself with tasting a few new dishes while the Malfoys engaged in light conversation. He caught bits of pieces, noting that Lucius had been working to help the ministry identify members of some of the terrorist groups based on his knowledge of their spell casting techniques and mannerisms. Narcissa apparently had a passion for art collecting, and had been in talks with a local museum, loaning them some rare pieces and engaging in trades and auctions within the community.

Harry was…glad they seemed to have found a place to fit in, after the war. They'd almost lost everything, including their own son. He caught Draco's gaze from across the table, and ducked his head, flushing as he remembered lying beneath him in the snow. He couldn't quite wrap his head around the memory. It had seemed almost like…but no, that was impossible. He shook his head, then took a large sip of whatever drink was in his cup. The glass was still pressed against his lips when it happened.

His mind short circuited and he gasped in pain as he was hit by a sudden seizure. He must have blacked out, because he couldn't quite remember what happened. And when his mind came to he was already on the ground panting in the aftermath. Harry's feet were caught in his chair legs, and his shoulder and arm throbbed viciously beneath him. He turned a shaky glance to his side, catching sight of the scattered shards of glass, food, and blood atop the rug. Of all the times. Of all the places. It had to be then and there.

He tried to breathe in, but choked on it, a coughing fit following soon after, and when he looked up, it was into the probing eyes of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. They looked shocked, and Harry dropped his gaze, suddenly overcome with shame. Draco was behind him, fingers pressed into his racing pulse, which didn't make much sense to his addled brain. Hadn't they been sitting across from one another? He lifted his shaking arm and winced, letting out a hiss of pain. Blood dripped down from it onto the floor, and Harry stared at it in horror, eyes welling up with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry," Harry gasped. "I'm so sorry." It had been such a good day that he'd nearly forgotten. "I'm…," Merlin, he'd made such a mess.

"Shh," Draco muttered, and then he reached beneath him, and helped him to sit up. "Watch the glass," Draco urged, preventing Harry from setting down his hand. He helped untwist his legs from the chair, and then knelt beside him carefully.

"Darling, is he alright?" Narcissa asked. She stepped closer, glass crunching beneath her shoes, and then startled and immediately stepped back. Lucius was quiet, fingers grasping tightly at the table behind her. Draco nodded, but then frowned when Harry just continued to stare blankly ahead. He inspected Harry's arm, turning it gently, and then touched Harry's face. His fingers came away red, and Harry finally flinched back to awareness. He'd though it had just been tears he felt running down his skin. "We'll clean up. How about you take Harry upstairs and tend to his wounds," Narcissa suggested.

Draco grunted his acknowledgement, and then Harry was hoisted to his feet. Every movement hurt, and he leaned on Draco heavily, grateful for the arm around his back that was keeping him upright. Harry blinked wearily down at the ground, only half registering the voices around him.

"Do you want us to keep the food warm?"

"No, we'll grab something later."

The two of them hobbled towards the staircase, pausing briefly at the bottom while Draco repositioned his arm. "Come on, careful," Draco whispered. He had to lean down quite a bit to accommodate Harry, and they hobbled awkwardly up one step at a time. It was a sweet relief when Draco eased him down to sit at the edge of a bed. Not his, he realised, searching the room with somewhat vacant eyes. Was it Draco's?

"The blood," Harry muttered, as he noticed it was dripping down atop the duvet. He moved to stand, but Draco pushed down on his shoulders gently.

"It's fine."

He disappeared for a minute, returning with a bag and an empty dish, and he set both down onto the bedding before dragging over a chair. Harry was surprised when Draco pulled out a pair of tweezers, and he must have noticed Harry's confusion, because he sighed and explained, "Some things are best handled without magic," before beginning to pull out the glass piece by piece.

"I ruined your supper," Harry said quietly.

He watched as Draco dropped a piece of glass into the dish beside him and stopped. Draco stared at him for a moment before he reached out to take off Harry's glasses. "No you didn't." His fingers tilted Harry's chin, and then Harry winced when several pieces of glass were plucked from beneath his eye. Draco wiped the skin down with a cloth and then soaked the wounds in murtlap essence, pausing to tuck Harry's hair behind his ear. He eyed him carefully, and then stood up, inspecting Harry's shoulder from above.

Harry could feel the fabric of his shirt yanking on his sore skin as it was peeled away, and he flinched and muttered a quick apology when Draco stopped immediately. There was a soft exhale, and then Draco reached down to unbutton Harry's shirt slightly before continuing at a slower pace. The fabric came away easier now that it was loose, and Harry glanced back at the mess of his shoulder once it was fully bared. He watched Draco work in silence, counting the pieces that were removed mindlessly.

After the last bit was removed, and the pain had dulled to an annoying throb, Harry felt himself sag. He hardly even noticed when Draco untied and slipped off his shoes. But he did startle and look up at him when a vial was shoved between his fingers.

"Drink this," Draco muttered, and he stared down, waiting as Harry uncorked the vial and swallowed the contents. He probably should have looked at it, at least checked what it was before doing so. It wasn't until the empty vial hung in his hands that he saw it was a healing draught of some kind. Unfortunately that probably meant it had the drawback of inducing sleep. He felt his eyes drooping, and then Draco reached around him, hand grasping behind him but not quite touching before he pulled it away.

"It's tiring right?" Draco asked as he busied himself with tidying up his healing supplies. "Get some rest."

"This is your-,"

"It's fine, just sleep," Draco urged. He placed his bag on a table across the room, glancing back briefly before turning away. Harry felt himself fading fast, and he knew there was no way he would make it across the hall and into his own room, so he eased his legs up on the bed and lay down. He turned his head to the side, falling asleep to the blurred image of Draco's back in the distance.

Harry woke hungry and alone, and he sat up gingerly, glad to see that most of the wounds on his skin had already begun to heal. He was still quite sore, and a little bit lethargic, but when his stomach grumbled loudly he slipped out of bed and padded around the room in search of his glasses. He put them on, took a brief second to catch his haggard reflection in the mirror, and then scoffed before walking out into the hall. He poked his head into his own room curiously, finding it empty as well, and decided to head to the kitchens by himself.

The house was quiet and dimly lit as he walked across the cold stone, and Harry wrapped his arms around himself tightly. He realised that he was still wearing the same shirt from dinner, and he wished he'd at least changed out of it, if only to rid himself of the bloodstains.

Harry glanced into the dining room, finding it tidy and devoid of broken glass and blood, and he stood there for a moment before continuing throughout the first floor. To be honest, he didn't even know where to go. He walked around aimlessly for a while, checking in a few rooms he hadn't been shown, and even stopping to look at some of the portraits on the walls. It was as he walked by another staircase, one that led down instead of up, that Harry was struck with realization.

He'd been down there before. In the cellar.

It looked different somehow. There were large plants lining the stairs, and when Harry edged closer, he realised the bars denoting its use as a prison had been removed. Harry stood at the top step, looking down into the darkness warily. He could almost hear the pained screams of other prisoners, and Harry shivered and rubbed at his arms before flinching when he grazed one of the cuts. He sighed and lowered his hands to his sides, then bit his lip and took the first step down.

It was a long ways down, much longer than he remembered, and at the bottom he reached out his wand and muttered, "Lumos." He was surprised when the area lit up to reveal several shelves and cabinets lined with objects and books. Like a storage space for all number of magical oddities. Gone were the cells, and the empty barren corners. There were no rats or buckets filled with water. No cobwebs or musty smell. It was just…another room, in a house that clearly belonged to magical folk.

He walked further into the cellar, wondering at how different it was, how welcoming. And if not for the memories associated, Harry thought he might have wanted to spend days perusing the strange trinkets within the space.

He heard a soft shuffle, and Harry turned slightly, catching sight of Draco's pale blond hair behind him. He hadn't noticed he was being followed. Harry turned to face him, holding up the light of his wand to better see him before asking, "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"That it was me? That day. Here."

Draco fidgeted and sighed. "As if I wouldn't," he muttered under his breath. "You could have been transfigured into a pygmy puff and I'd still recognize those stubborn eyes of yours Potter."

Harry lowered his wand slightly and took a step towards him. "Why did you save me?"

Draco frowned, and stepped away. "I didn't save you Potter."

"You did," Harry insisted. "You lied, for me."

Draco turned towards him, a scowl upon his face. "It wasn't for you! You think too highly of me," he claimed, and then he scoffed and rubbed his face with his fingers before starting to pace. "You know…I'd spent months here, before you showed up," he started, grey eyes fixating on Harry as he walked along the walls opposite him. "Trapped in this house with him," he paused, and Harry's jaw tensed at the way Draco hunched in on himself. "Walking around corners like my death awaited me at every turn, his damn snake slinking in the shadows, watching where he could not," Draco continued. He stilled, and stared down at the ground solemnly.

Draco's fingers tightened into fists and he turned away, pretending to take interest in one of the artefacts on the shelves. "I saw what he did to my father, day in, day out. How he stole our lives away. This place that I called home, that I loved, desecrated by his touch. Every single one of my memories tarnished by it," Draco whispered. "I watched him murder, watched him torture, all without doing a single thing to stop it."

His words were laced with regret, and Harry shuffled forwards quickly, "Why didn't you-"

The absolute fury Draco directed at him then had Harry halting in his tracks. "We can't all be Gryffindors, Potter. I don't ooze courage and bravery out of my very pores. All I have is cunningness and ambition, and what good are either of those in the face of a dark lord who has your family at his mercy," Draco hissed.

Harry stumbled back and shook his head. "That's not…I didn't…I meant…why didn't you ask for help? Tell someone? You could have-"

And again Draco cut him off, striding towards him quickly as he rolled up his sleeve. He held out his arm in front of Harry, showing him the vivid scar in the place where the Dark Mark once resided. Harry had seen glimpses of it before, but never looked at it quite so directly, and the sight of it on Draco's skin was startling.

"While you lot were twittering about on your summer days off I was greeted here by a cult of Death Eaters in my home and my mother's pleading gaze as He Who Must Not Be Named personally 'welcomed' me into his rankings," Draco growled. "What was I supposed to do? Say no?" Harry stared into his angry eyes, and his jaw trembled slightly as he watched Draco pull his sleeve back down. "It was too late," Draco whispered. "Before I'd even returned to school my task was bound to the lives of others. I'm not like you, Potter. I'm not selfless. I'm not brave."

"You're wrong."

Draco's gaze bore into him, and he frowned further, eyeing Harry in confusion.

"You are brave," Harry insisted. "You survived, and made sure your family survived as well, no matter the cost to yourself. That's pretty damn selfless."

The two of them watched each other intently until Draco let out a huff and backed down, brushing back his hair as he closed his eyes and stepped away.

"Why did you lie?" Harry asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Draco peered at him out of the corner of his eyes, from beneath the shadow of his fingers, and spoke slowly, "I guess, seeing you that day, it gave me some small inkling of hope. That there were people fighting, where I could not."

"Then you wanted to fight," Harry murmured, his eyes widening slightly as he took a single step forwards. Draco looked at him more directly, and Harry smiled softly. "That's all that matters." He moved across the remaining distance between them and grabbed Draco's arm, ignoring his indignant yelp. Harry pushed back the fabric and looked down at the scar there, holding his wand out over it as he took it in more carefully. Then he set his wand down on a nearby shelf and peered at Draco briefly before touching it. Draco flinched beneath the contact but didn't pull away. Harry pressed his fingers along the raised lines, tracing the curves of the snake slowly, and then his fingers slid down the rest of Draco's arm and beyond his wrist, linking with Draco's slightly at their tips.

He looked up slowly, catching Draco's unblinking gaze. It was a bit intimidating, being on the other end of that stare. Draco's eyes weren't devoid of emotion, but rather filled with one he couldn't recognize. It was like staring up at a winter's sky, where the clouds were always on the verge of a storm, despite the stillness of the cold days. He felt Draco's fingers slide further between his, linking them completely, and then a thumb began slowly stroking along the edge of his wrist. Harry's heart stuttered, and his breaths quickened. He blinked up at Draco with wide eyes, certain that he must have noticed the racing of Harry's pulse.

Draco lifted his free hand, palm settling against Harry's face as it had earlier in the day atop the snow. He touched the still tender skin beneath Harry's eye and then lowered his arm, never once breaking their stare. He reached out, grabbing Harry's wand off the shelf and tucking it into his back pocket slowly. "Let's go eat, you must be hungry," Draco spoke. His fingers tightened further around Harry's and he pulled him along behind him, looking back every once in a while to meet Harry's bewildered gaze.

As it turned out, the kitchens were on the opposite side of the house, and Harry sat beside Draco on a stool while the elves busied themselves with offering a wide selection of snacks. They had more than enough to satisfy their midnight cravings. When Draco picked up a powdered pastry and blew the icing sugar off it into Harry's face, Harry gasped and whisked it away, but not before starting into a fit of sneezes. Harry pulled his glasses away, and struggled to clean them to no avail. Draco's laughter rang throughout the room, and Harry retaliated by snatching one of the pastries off of Draco's plate for himself. He chewed into it aggressively, staring Draco down. Draco gaped at him for a moment, and then protested loudly, before he reached into a glittering jar and tossed the contents at him, dusting Harry in sprinkles until he glittered like some kind of fae creature.

"Draco!" Harry gasped, brushing the fallen sparkles away from his arms, and then he froze after meeting Draco's surprised open mouthed stare. Harry's gaze flittered away, and he shifted shyly atop the stool at the realization of what he'd said. Draco. Not Malfoy…but…Draco.

Oh.

Harry braved a quick look, and he was surprised when Draco's mouth closed and eased into a tentative smile. Draco settled his elbow on the table, resting his head leisurely atop his knuckles with mirth filled eyes. He stared at Harry like he was the most interesting thing in the room, and perhaps he was, shining and powdered like a cookie fresh out of the oven. Harry nibbled at his lower lip and then took another quick bite of the stolen pastry, ignoring the way his surroundings sparkled and his yet again racing heart.

The door to his father's study felt heavy beneath his hands, and Draco pushed it open carefully, knocking as he entered. "Father, you wished to speak with me?" he asked, doing his best to keep his voice steady and unassuming. When Lucius nodded and raised a hand in beckoning Draco entered the room fully, closing the door behind him. He approached his desk, pausing in front of it but not taking a seat while Lucius continued writing something down on parchment.

Their relationship had been strained for some time now, only worsening throughout the war and after. Draco had always looked up to him as a child. Worked himself endlessly, if only for his approval. Until he realised exactly what would be at stake to gain it. There was a distance between them now, one that Draco couldn't quite shake. There were things he didn't think he'd ever forgive his father for, things that made him genuinely question what his priorities were, especially when it came to his family. He hated that he still longed to prove himself to him. To achieve something that his father might actually take notice of, so that he had even just an inkling of self-worth. He was as much a failure of a son as Lucius was a father.

"You'll return to school tomorrow," Lucius voiced, and Draco straightened his shoulders and lifted his jaw, staring straight ahead.

"Yes."

Lucius's hand hovered over the parchment for a moment, and then he commented, "You seem to be enjoying your time with the Potter boy."

Draco swallowed, barely containing the flinch in his arms. He glanced to the side, wondering what exactly his father had seen. And then his throat closed up as he realized he knew. Everything. After all, Pansy had seen right through his pitiful facade, hadn't she? And his father was far more shrewd and observant than most. "I'm not sure-," Draco began, in a weak attempt to redirect the conversation, but he winced when Lucius stood from his desk and walked towards him.

Draco stared ahead, refusing to meet his eyes. He frowned when Lucius sighed wearily. "I have not seen you this happy for many years," Lucius said, and Draco blinked in surprise. "My fault I fear."

Draco's jaw tightened and he looked up, only as Lucius turned away. "Father…," Draco voiced, and he watched as Lucius walked towards the fireplace, turning his back on him. The flames flickered a bit as Lucius stoked the coals.

"I would not begrudge you this happiness, should you choose to take it," Lucius said lowly. Draco staggered in place, shifting atop the throw below as his breath faltered. "Perhaps one decision in this wretched life I won't grow to regret, apart from marrying your mother and having you."

The admission threw Draco, and he stood there staring at his father's back blankly. But it was the words that followed which truly shook him to the core.

"I am proud of you, my son."

Lucius turned his head to the side, his profile framed by the light of the fire, and Draco's brow furrowed as the image was burned upon his irises. He said nothing, and when Lucius turned to look back into the flames Draco's fingers tightened into fists, and he gritted his teeth against the tears that fought to escape. He eventually lost the battle, ducking his head and closing his eyes as he let the droplets fall down his face like a cleansing rain upon his soul.

The train ride back to Hogwarts was far more subdued, and the five of them sat in their compartment in companionable silence, interrupted only by Gregory's occasional reading of a passage from his novel. Draco hadn't questioned why Harry chose to join them again for the return trip, but had been pleasantly surprised when he followed him into the compartment like a lost puppy instead of seeking out his Gryffindor friends.

Draco watched the snow falling outside the window as his body shook lightly from the jerking of the train. He caught a movement to his left and turned in time to witness Harry nodding off beside him. Draco caught his head as it started to fall, and then lowered it onto his shoulder slowly, being careful not to jostle him too much in the process. He studied Harry's sleeping face for a moment, brushing away the fringe as it fell across his brow. His eyelashes were long and dark, softly resting against the skin beneath his eyes, no less apparent behind those oversized wire frames. He remembered suddenly what they'd looked like dusted in Christmas sparkles, glittering around his green irises brightly. Stupidly pretty. He'd always been…

Draco shook his head at the thought but couldn't keep the smile off his face, only forcing it away when he caught Pansy watching them with a raised eyebrow.

"What," he breathed lowly, daring her to make a comment.

She grinned at him deviously and crossed her legs, feigning disinterest. "Nothing," she cooed.

Draco scowled at her and glanced sidelong at Blaise, who to his embarrassment had apparently been watching all along as well. Blaise mimed a kissy face in his direction and Draco flushed and turned his attention back outside, while Gregory continued reciting his story. Draco clasped his hands together tightly in his lap. It was strange, the feeling that overcame him in that moment. This sort of energy, that made Draco want to create, and shout, and jump like a little child would at the sight of a first snow. The weight upon his shoulder grounded him, and he sat impossibly still, lest he wake the man sleeping soundly against him. And for the first time, in a very long while, Draco felt truly at peace. Perhaps he could allow himself to revel in this newfound happiness, for however long it lasted.

AN: Thank you so much for reading!