Tears in the Night     By Dracavia

Rating: PG-13? (I have no idea how to rate things!)

Summary:  Draco makes some startling realisations about his life and especially a certain person in it…where will they lead?  Who knows, but if you read on Draco will tell you his story.

Warning: Eventual Slight Slash, mostly it's just implied (male-male relationship) this is your one and only warning, if you don't like it please hit the back button now.

Pairing: DM/HP eventually

Disclaimer: The characters from Harry Potter belong to the great J. K. Rowling.  I just play with them once in a while.  (You think JK would notice if I don't return Draco?  She would? Oh bugger.)  If I were JKR I wouldn't have taken 3 years to get out the 5th book (mark your calendars everyone, it's coming June 21st!!!!!).

Spoilers: Since it's a ficlet, not many, just some general stuff, um I guess stuff from book three about Sirius mainly.

Feedback: Yes please! ;-)  Constructive criticism is, as always, greatly appreciated.  This is anything along the lines of "this line was OOC" or "You contradicted yourself here" or anything of a similar manner.  I am constantly trying to improve my writing and reviews of this nature are just as welcome as any other kind words :)

A/N:  Got the idea for this ficlet at around 3am one morning when I was reading Fanfics cause I had a killer headache & there was no way in hell I was gonna get any sleep that night.  This was inspired by a paragraph from the serial "My Cheesy Greeting Card Valentine" by TwistedSlytherin (aka the Princess Bard), if you can find the paragraph in this ficlet that's paraphrased from it I'll……hmm, I was gonna say give you a cookie, but I can't e-mail one of those can I?  Oh well.  Oh and thanks to Jane and Floo who convinced me to post this.  Now read and hopefully enjoy!

* * * * *

Silently I walked through the dark halls, passing from shadow to shadow, ears listening for any sign of Filch or his damnedable cat.  I knew it was a risk to be out in the halls so late at night, but I couldn't take it anymore, I had to leave the stuffy confines of my dorm. When you're trying to understand feelings and thoughts that don't make sense to you, the last thing you want is to hear your wretched dormmates snoring.

What in the universe could be so important as to throw the Ice Prince of Slytherin into an emotional mess you ask?  I, the one who had made an art of showing no emotion, letting no one and nothing reach beneath the carefully crafted wall surrounding me.  But I'd been careless, there was a crack in that shield.  The realisation of that crack, that weakness, is what had sent me into this turmoil…I had let someone slip through it.

So there I was, treading silently through the empty Hogwarts corridors towards the Hospital Wing, as I had done for the last few nights, unsure I'd be able to make this trek again in the nights to come, since classes would resume the next day.  I wanted to reach the one place my mind seemed to be able to rest, even though there rested the source of my confusion.  It seemed my poison was also my cure.

I hadn't slept well for nights, plagued by the issue playing at the corners of my mind.  It had all started a couple weeks previously…shortly before the final battle with the Dark Lord, Voldemort.

* * * * *

Dumbledore and his determined Order were slowly making headway in the war, and Voldemort, sensing his impending defeat, decided that if he was going down once again he'd take as many as possible with him, it would be a battle to remember.

Through his network of spies Dumbledore had learned of Voldemort's intent to attack Hogwarts, but when it was to happen he was unable to discover.  And, so as not to arouse suspicion by evacuating the entire school immediately, plans were made for if and when the attack occurred.  All the seventh year students were asked to attend a meeting with the staff and the headmaster.  In the event of an attack we, as the oldest students, were to gather all the younger students in our houses and make for specific escape routes through the tunnels under the castle.

Wouldn't this be giving away his knowledge of the approaching attack to Voldemort you ask, surely there must be children of Death Eaters amongst the Slytherins?  True as that was, the only students whose parents were Death Eaters present were Marcus Tullius and myself, neither of us was a threat and Dumbledore knew it.  Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle and a few others were no longer at Hogwarts, having been pulled out to join the ranks of the Dark Lord's forces.  Marcus and I had refused, asking our aged headmaster for sanctuary.

Both of us were strong willed and refused to bow down to a raving lunatic like Voldemort.  True, we did share some of Voldemort's beliefs; coming from rich old pureblooded families tends to shape your thinking a certain way.  The difference was neither of us believed this insane war was the right way to change things.  Political power, now there was something to be valued, manipulating laws from inside the government to reflect our ideals, that was the way to do things.  Instead Voldemort chose a method that was slowly reducing the population of people he would have to rule over, his method included mass murder…it was completely and utterly insane.

And so there we sat, amongst the other students loyal to the school if not a specific side in the war.  As Dumbledore gave his instructions my gaze settled upon my rivals, the Gryffindor Trio.  They had an unbelievable knack for getting themselves involved in the thick of things with Voldemort, and everyone knew it, having heard numerous tales of their adventures.  Somehow I doubted they'd be willing to just run away with the rest of the students, no they would have to stay and try to help, especially Potter, and in the process most definitely putting themselves in a situation likely to get them killed.  What I couldn't figure out was why that thought bothered me so much.

We were rivals, what should I care if they got themselves killed, and Potter in particular?  Nevertheless I did.  That night as I lay in my bed I stared at the drapes above me, trying to figure out why I was so bothered.  It wasn't until a few nights later I discovered what it was that made me wish they'd run to safety with the rest.

Late in the evening, not many days after that meeting, I was sitting in a chair in the Slytherin common room staring into the fire, still frustrated with this unsolved dilemma, when I heard a thundering crash. Soon after, Dumbledore's voice magically rang out ordering the students to follow the emergency escape plan.  Marcus, Blaise, Sharon and I, the only remaining seventh year Slytherins, began rounding up the other students.

Blaise and Sharon led the students towards the tunnels, with Marcus and I behind to make sure everyone followed.  Halfway there we were joined by the Gryffindors, and my eyes scanned for the Trio.  They were at the back, and appeared to be having an argument, Potter obviously disagreeing with the other two.  Eventually they gave up and after a set of quick hugs Potter turned around and started sprinting back the way we'd come.  Suddenly I knew why I didn't want to loose that fool Gryffindor…I needed him.  It wasn't about sexual attraction (though I can't deny that there was something about his expressive green eyes and unruly hair that was downright appealing) and surely it wasn't about love. I was certain that I wasn't in love with that prat, cared about his well being perhaps, but loved, no.  All the same, I needed him.

Potter was the only constant thing in my life. The only thing I could truly rely on, even if it was just the reliability of his anger, the endurance of his disdain, or simply the stability of our rivalry…it was always there. Something that I could return to time and again despite the turmoil in my life. No matter what happened Potter was always right there, good for a fight, a verbal sparring match…just always there.

And now the bloody prat was going off to get himself killed, damn him.  Damn him?  No he seemed quite capable of doing that all by himself, and I couldn't live with that.  Quickly I turned to Marcus, telling him to continue on without me, I was going back.  He put up a feeble protest, but did nothing to stop me as I turned and ran, following the faint sound of Potter's distant feet.

The crash I had heard was Voldemort and his forces breaking down the front doors of the castle, and Potter must have realised this because he was headed straight for the Entrance Hall.  The infernal git was headed off to face Voldemort.

When I reached the Hall I paused in the shadows surrounding the doorway, too shocked at the sight before me to move at first.  Professors and numerous others I couldn't identify, but that must have been part of the Order, were fighting off a legion of black robed Death Eaters, trying to give the students time to escape.  There were bodies strewn throughout the area, how many of them were dead I don't know.

Once my initial shock passed I began franticly searching the seething mass for a sight of unruly black hair.  When I found it I thought I would be sick, there was Potter laying on the ground at Voldemort's feet, suffering from the Cruciatus curse.  Not thinking, I rushed through the mass of people towards them; how I didn't get killed doing that I'll never know.

Once I was in range I shouted the first spell that came to mind, "Expelliarmus!" Voldemort's wand flew to my hand, he hadn't expected my sudden appearance.

I doubt Potter even realised I was there, but his reflexes were intact, and as soon as he was freed from the curse he took advantage of Voldemort's vulnerability, still in his position on the floor.  "Avada Kedavra," the words were cold and hard as they left Potter's lips, a firm finality.  A sudden green flash enveloped Voldemort and he crumpled to the floor…dead.

His mission accomplished, Potter allowed the pain of the curse and drain of that final spell to take over, he slumped sideways, passed out cold.

All around the hall Death Eaters fell to the floor screaming in agony, their dark marks burning viscously red as their connection with their master was severed.  Dumbledore's forces immediately realised their advantage and began stunning every Death Eater in sight, afterwards casting spells to firmly bind them in ropes or chains.  The battle was over, the war was over, and we had won.

I rushed to Potter's side, fearful he was dead despite my efforts.  His shallow breathing confirmed that he was indeed alive, but for how much longer I didn't know.  He seemed so weak and vulnerable, his breathing growing more erratic by the moment.

"Potter, don't you dare die on me, I need you.  I need you Harry," I pleaded.  Then I did something I never thought I would, I prayed.  "If there is a God somewhere, I beg you not to let him die, it's not his time yet.  I will change my ways, set aside my selfish ambitions, anything, if only you let him live."  I collapsed to my knees on the verge of tears, this couldn't be happening, he's Harry Potter the boy-who-lived and I couldn't live my life without him.  I felt a firm hand rest on my shoulder, and turned to look up into aged blue eyes.

"Mr Malfoy, do you think you can get Harry to the Hospital wing yourself?  He needs to see Madame Pomfrey quickly and I must stay here to deal with all of this," he motioned with his arm to indicate the mess of people within the Entrance and Great Halls.

I nodded to Dumbledore, "Yes sir."

"Good boy, now hurry."

Without another word I turned back to Harry; yes he was Harry now, I didn't think I could ever call him Potter again, he was so much more than that.  Cursing myself for not being able to remember the incantation that conjured a stretcher, I carefully gathered him in my arms.  He was no light boy let me assure you, his tall slim seeker's build was all muscle.  Fortunately, so was mine.  Moving as quickly as I could, I headed for the Hospital Wing, troubled by his ever erratic and shallower breathing.

Madam Pomfrey and a few others were rushing about the ward treating the injured as fast as they could.  I shouted for her attention and she hurried over to me quickly, "Dumbledore said you needed to look at him immediately."

"Here, place him on this empty bed." Carefully I laid him down. "Do you know exactly what happened to him?"

"He was hit with the Cruciatus curse by Voldemort.  After I managed to disarm Voldemort, Harry used the killing curse on him, and then he passed out."

She cringed when I used the Dark Lord's proper name, but listened to the end.  "Oh dear, his strength and magical power must be all but drained.  I have a potion that can help him, but it will take me a few minutes to get it ready, and he will still need lots of rest even with the potion.  Can you watch him until I get back, tell me if he gets worse?"

I nodded and she swept away.  Standing there, looking at Harry's prone form, I felt my heart constrict.  I may not have been in love with him, but seeing him like that, so defenseless, I knew I cared about him deeply and I would do anything to help make him well again.

I brushed a hand gently across his forehead, brushing his dark hair away from his eyes.  Suddenly I realised those eyes had opened at my touch, half lidded green orbs stared intently at me.  "Malfoy…?" came his strangled whisper.

"Shh Harry, you're in the Hospital Wing, Voldemort is gone and you're safe.  Close your eyes and sleep, you need to rest to get your strength back."  He still looked confused as to my presence but weariness won out and he nodded slightly before he closed his eyes and rapidly fell fast asleep.

A short while later Madam Pomfrey returned with the potion, rousing Harry just enough to drink it, before he returned to his slumber.  She said that part of the potion's purpose was to keep Harry asleep until he was sufficiently stronger, guaranteeing him some much needed rest.  With a quick flick of her wand Harry's battered clothes were gone, replaced by soft, pale blue, cotton pyjamas.  After I helped her move him under the bedcovers she said that she had more patients to see to, but I was welcome to stay and watch over him if I wished.

Not really having anywhere else to be, I took her up on her offer and pulled a chair up alongside his bed.  I don't know how long I'd sat there when a man with short dark hair, a bandage near his temple and an arm in a sling, walked up beside me, "How is he?" the man had inquired.

"As well as can be expected I suppose.  Madam Pomfrey gave him a potion and now he needs to rest, but for how long I have no idea."

The man nodded and leaned over, stretching out his uninjured arm he smoothed Harry's hair with his hand.  A frustrated sigh escaped him.

"Do you know Harry?" I asked.

The man returned his gaze to me, I had a sense of being evaluated and, for some reason I didn't understand, I hoped that he approved of me.  He seemed satisfied with his evaluation and spoke softly, "I'm his godfather…not that I've been able to take care of him up until this point, but that can change now."

I was intrigued, the man's voice sounded so sad, and yet so hopeful at the same time.  "If it's not too personal, why couldn't you take care of Harry?  I thought his only relatives were those muggles he lives with in the summer."

The man gave a wry smile, "You don't know who I am then?  Hmm, nice to know I'm not immediately recognised as infamous amongst everyone." I'm certain I looked quite confused at this point, and after a pause he continued, "My name is Sirius Black."

My eyes opened wide in shock, "But you're…"

"I'm an escaped murderer?" I nodded silently, now rather scared, "No, I never murdered those people.  I was framed, Pettigrew, the wizard I supposedly murdered, is actually still quite alive and he is the one responsible for the deaths of those muggles.  Pettigrew is now in the custody of the ministry, along with the other Death Eaters.  I have a hearing two days from now, in which they will formally rescind my conviction and hopefully return my family estate, which they seized when I was arrested sixteen years ago.  Then Harry will never have to return to those horrid muggles he's had to live with for so long."

"I'm glad things will be working out for you two now that the war is over."

"Thank you…by the way, are you one of Harry's friends?  I don't recognise you, of course I've really only had much contact with Ron and Hermione."

I stood up quickly, unsure how to answer him, and I let my strongest instinct take hold, I ran.  "Um, I'm sorry, I've got to go now, it was nice meeting you," I commented over my shoulder as I left the ward rapidly.  The man sent me a curious look and shook his head, sitting in the chair I had until recently occupied, as I passed through the door.

After that evening I returned late each night to the ward, sneaking in after everyone was asleep so that I wouldn't run into any of Harry's friends or his godfather, again.  I would sit quietly beside his bed just watching him sleep, not exactly sure why I returned, but I was there all the same.  It seemed to be where I could find peace, but why?  I didn't know, as it was my feelings towards Harry that had me wracked in this whirlwind.  Occasionally I would brush a stray hair from his forehead or simply rest a hand upon his chest to feel his breathing, assuring myself that he was without a doubt still alive.  As far as I had heard through the Hogwarts grapevine, he hadn't woken since taking the strengthening potion and I continued to wonder when he'd awake.

Classes the rest of that week and all the next were cancelled.  Instead the prefects, the head boy, and Hermione Granger, that year's head girl, arranged activities for the students.  Inter-house chess tournaments, a snow war and others, to keep them busy while many of the Professors continued to recover from the wounds they received in the attack.

Professor Snape had suffered the worst as he carried the dark mark and had the after effects of it to deal with, as well as the injuries he sustained in the battle.  It was doubtful Snape would be ready to return to teaching when classes resumed; seemingly the only one more injured than him was Harry.

* * * * *

That was what brought me on my trip to the Hospital wing that fateful night.  I snuck into the ward as usual, but as I neared Harry's bed I realised he wasn't sleeping peacefully as he normally did, instead he seemed caught in some sort of nightmare.  I reached out a hand and placed it gently upon his shoulder, whispering quietly to him, "Shh Harry, it's only a dream, whatever is bothering you it's only a dream…"  I continued murmuring softly and tenderly stroked the side of his face.  Eventually he seemed to relax under my care, settling into a more comfortable sleep.

"How did you do that?" inquired a voice from within the shadows not far from Harry's bed.

I was startled and stepped back from the bed, watching as a figure slowly materialised from the gloom.  It was Harry's godfather, minus the bandage and sling.  "I…I…how did I do what?"

"Get him calm.  He's been tossing and turning all day and no one seemed able to do anything about it.  Then you come in here and in less than five minutes he's resting peacefully."

I was taken aback, my touch and voice was the only thing that had managed to sooth him?  At that revelation something was stirring inside of me, something I didn't quite understand.  Yet.  "I didn't know, I thought he was just having a bad dream.  I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"I'm not displeased by your presence, just curious.  Who are you?"

"I'm…my name is Draco, I'm in Harry's year," I answered, nervously brushing a strand of my long blond hair out of my face.

"Draco…hmm, where have I heard that name before?"

"I wouldn't know," was my hesitant reply.  "Perhaps I should leave, I'm really not supposed to be here in the first place."

During the time since I'd stopped soothing Harry, his restlessness had begun to return.  "No…Draco, please stay, you have my permission…" He gave me another one of his deep appraising looks, I felt like this man could read what was written on my soul.  Finally his gaze broke and shifted back to his restless godson, "I think perhaps Harry needs you here."

I was stunned, this surely wasn't the reaction I had expected.  Encouraged by the man's last words, I returned to my place beside Harry's bed and returned to the soothing caresses of before.  "You can talk to him like you were before, just because I'm here doesn't mean you shouldn't speak to him," I looked up at the man questioningly, "I think perhaps it was your voice, most of all, that soothed him before."

Nodding, I resumed murmuring reassuring words to the restless boy before me, and as had happened earlier he slowly began to relax.  In that same tone, as I had decided that was what was most important rather than the words, I whispered to the man standing at the foot of Harry's bed, "I don't understand, why am I able to calm him?"

I turned my head to look at the man and realised I was once again being studied.  Rather than answering my question he posed one of his own, "You care for him, don't you?"

"I…he's important to me, if that's what you mean.  He's been a part of my life in one way or another since we started school here…it wouldn't be the same without him."

The man shook his head almost imperceptibly, "That may be true, but there's something else, isn't there?"

My gaze returned to Harry, and standing there I felt an intense desire to protect him, the same one I had been feeling for days and couldn't get rid of.  But as I stood there I realised tangled up in my confused thoughts and emotions there was something I hadn't noticed, I felt an unfamiliar…warmth, towards the raven haired teen.  It couldn't be love, Malfoys don't love, it's not in them, but perhaps I did feel some sort of…affection, towards him.  I shook my head, unable to fully understand these new thoughts and reconcile them with what I had always believed to be true, "I honesty don't know what I feel towards Harry these days, all I know for sure is that he's important to me and that I will do whatever I can to protect him…"

"That's all I really need to know," Harry's godfather seemed to fall into contemplation for a moment.  "Since you're here and Harry seems a bit better now, I think perhaps I will go get some sleep.  Goodnight Draco, take good care of my godson."  He gave me a small sad smile that failed to reach his eyes and headed out the door.

I pulled a chair closer to Harry's bed, if I was going to spend most of my night beside him I didn't want to stand.

I must have fallen asleep at some point because I awoke to find myself with my head on my arms, leaning half on Harry's bed.  Trying to discover what woke me I realised there were quiet sobs coming from nearby, raising my head I looked at Harry, he was the one crying!  He was still asleep and yet muffled sobs were wracking his body, curled up on his side.  I watched a tear run down his face and then another, the sight was heart wrenching.  The next thing I knew, I was sitting on Harry's bed with him wrapped in my arms, murmuring soothing nonsense and rubbing his back, trying to comfort him.

Slowly he began to wake up and his sobs subsided.  The head that was leaned against my shoulder looked up and I was met with a pair of glistening emeralds.  Gently I brushed a stray lock of dark hair to the side, not caring that this situation was entirely out of character and taking heart from the fact that Harry wasn't recoiling in disgust at realising who was holding him.

Just as he had nearly two weeks before, Harry simply spoke my name, confusion laced in his voice.

"Yeah Harry, it's me."

"Wha…why are you here?" even though he was confused at my presence, he had yet to withdraw from my arms.

"I came to see if you were all right earlier and your godfather asked me to stay and watch you so he could get some sleep," I knew that wasn't the explanation he was looking for, he wanted to know why I was there in the first place, but I wasn't sure if I was ready to explain that yet.

"Sirius was here?  Is he all right?  I lost track of him in the fight," at the mention of his godfather Harry's voice filled with concern.

"He's fine.  He was injured but as far as I can tell everything has been healed…he's a free man now.  While you've been asleep he had his hearing, the ministry even returned all of his possessions that were seized, including his home…it was covered in the Daily Prophet."

His face lit up at this, and inside I felt sincerely glad that I had been able to make him happy with the news.

"So Sirius is free, and he was here visiting me…" the confused look returned to his face.  I knew the questions were coming again; Harry never was the type to let something go until he'd figured it out.  "Why did he leave you to watch me?"

"Because I was here I suppose, and because I wasn't planning on returning to my dorm for awhile."

He was obviously getting frustrated with my unsatisfactory answers, his forehead wrinkled adorably in concentration.  Adorably?  Draco Malfoy does not use the word adorable, I silently admonished myself.

"Malfoy, you're evading the point of my question.  We've been rivals for more than six years, why would you care how I was doing?" he demanded.

I avoided looking at him and didn't respond, I wasn't exactly sure myself, so how could I explain it to him?  Harry reached a hand up and turned my face to look at his, that simple touch ran like a shock through me.  What was going on, why did Harry cause all these unfamiliar feelings in me?  Quickly I ran through everything I had been feeling for the last three weeks, and I came to a startling conclusion.  Was it possible that I was wrong, I wondered, could a Malfoy actually feel love?  Because that's what this sure seemed like.  Not that I was in love, but that perhaps I felt love for him…that's what all the signs were pointing to and possibly that I was beginning to fall for the sweet and innocent Gryffindor.  But could I tell him these things?  Didn't he despise me after all?  The fact that he still allowed my arms to remain wrapped around his waist, holding him close, appeared to suggest otherwise.

"Malfoy, please just answer my question," his voice was soft, no hint of animosity or hate anywhere in it.  Perhaps I could risk telling him the truth.

"I wanted to check on you because I was the one that brought you here after the battle, I know how bad you looked and I've been coming back to reassure myself you were actually getting better," I hadn't really thought of it that way before, but it seemed to make sense after I voiced it, it would explain why my restlessness was lessened after I checked on him each night.

"You brought me here?  But you were with the other students escaping the castle, wouldn't someone else have found me first?"

I shook my head no, "I saw you leave the Gryffindor group to head back and I chased after you…I was the one that used the Expelliarmus spell on Voldemort so he'd stop torturing you."

"Why would you chase after me and put yourself in that danger?  You could have been hurt or killed, why chance it to go after me?"

"I…I wanted to make sure you didn't get yourself killed…I couldn't have lived with it if you had." I averted my eyes so I wouldn't have to see his reaction, I couldn't bear it if he belittled my reasons.

Gentle fingertips traced lightly down the side of my face; my eyes snapped back up and locked on Harry's.  He seemed to be studying me, as though through my eyes he could read my thoughts.  The feeling was disconcerting and I closed my eyes, taking a steadying breath.  I had to do something to break the moment, my already ragged nerves couldn't stand this much longer.

Opening my eyes I asked the first thing that came to mind, "Harry, why were you crying?"

At that question a shield was raised behind his eyes and he turned away from me, pulling out of my arms to lay down, back towards me.  "I don't want to talk about it," came the harshly whispered reply.

I raised a hand to lay upon his shoulder, but hesitated a few inches away.  Suddenly I felt a snap inside, seeing Harry twisted up with pain inside like this was the final wedge in the crack of my ice wall.  Stoicism be damned, I felt all the suppressed emotions he stirred in me swallow my heart.  I had to help him, if he wasn't whole…then neither was I.

I rested my hand upon his shoulder and ran it slowly down his arm, "Harry…I know we haven't always gotten along, but you need to tell someone, and I'm here, willing to listen."

He rolled over and deep emeralds studied my face, I was certain he was searching for some sign that this was all a trick.  That I was just there to torment him as I had done in the past.  I let all my barriers slip away, trying to convey with my eyes and face that I was sincere, that he could trust me now.

He closed his eyes and sighed, then began speaking.  I didn't know whether he had received my silent signals, or whether the need to unburden was so strong it didn't matter who it was he told.

He told me that while Voldemort was torturing him with the Cruciatus curse, he was also forcing Harry to see and relive the many deaths that he, Voldemort, had caused…including those of Harry's parents and Cedric Diggory.  He told me that all through it a rage he had never felt before began to fill him, he hated the man standing over him more than anything in the world and that he had felt joy at causing Voldemort's death.  But he was afraid, certain he had lost a part of himself…that by giving into that hate and rejoicing in another's death, regardless of how evil Voldemort was, it made him, Harry, no better than the Dark Lord he had vanquished.

As he finished, tears were once again streaming down his tired and weary face.  I tenderly brushed away some of the tears, and his eyes turned to my face, searching for the condemnation he felt he deserved.  There was none.  I knew in that instant I could never condemn him for anything, I really did love him.  It wasn't the kind of love fueled by passion and lust, based on a physical attraction; no this was different, deeper.  My heart reached out to this broken person before me, trying to mend him with my care and love.

There was something in him that sensed this and realised he could find comfort in my arms.  Suddenly he was once again wrapped in my tight embrace, head buried against my neck and shoulder, crying out his frustration, sorrow and anger.  I ran a hand over his head and back, caressing him gently, silently assuring that it was alright to let go of his feelings.

A long time passed without a word spoken between us, Harry soaking up the healing warmth of my love as his tears slowly abated.  Still leaned against my shoulder he whispered, "Malfoy, I…"

I cut him off, pressing a single finger against his lips, then I raised his head to look deep into his eyes.  "You have nothing to feel guilty for, you aren't like Voldemort, and you aren't evil.  But you are human, and what you felt was human, there's nothing to be ashamed of."  I paused, and trying to dispel the mood of melancholy surrounding us I spoke once more, "Harry…would you…could you please call me Draco?  Malfoy sounds too much like my father," as I spoke I allowed a small smile to cross my lips.  I hoped for a positive response to my request, it would confirm that he felt something between us as well, not just the old rivalry.

He didn't answer me for some time and I grew nervous, I didn't think my heart could withstand a rejection.  A fleeting look passed across his face, gone before I could register what it meant; surprise, disgust?  I didn't know.  Then he spoke in hushed tones, "Thank you, for…just…thank you…Draco."

My heart leapt with joy at the acknowledgement.  I placed a hand gently against his face and he softly leaned against it.  Sitting there, arms wrapped tightly around each other, our faces were close, so close together.  We both leaned in, a chaste kiss brushing over our lips as we each sought the reassurance that what we each felt the other felt as well.

Pulling back slowly I could see the exhaustion written across Harry's face, "It's time you rest now, the night will be passing away soon."

He lay back down on his pillows and looked up at me.  I started to get off the bed, but paused when I felt a hand encircle my wrist, "Draco…please stay with me…I…"

I looked down at his pleading face, a smile fluttered across my lips, "If you wish.  Shall I stay in that chair?" I inquired, pointing to my previous seat.

His head shook almost imperceptibly and he quickly moved over in the small bed, making room beside him and raising the edge of the bedcovers.  I gave him a surprised look, "Please?" he whispered.  I nodded silently, kicking off my shoes and socks before I slipped my pyjama clad form in beside his.

He curled tightly against my side, pillowing his head upon my chest and sighed contently.  Protectively I wrapped an arm around him and settled back to get the first truly peaceful sleep I would receive in weeks.  Just as I was about to drift to sleep Harry's soft voice broke the stillness, "Draco, you won't leave after I fall asleep, will you?"

I smiled and placed a chaste kiss upon his head, "Don't worry Harry, as long as you want me beside you, I will be here."  Another peaceful sigh escaped him and I knew he understood the deeper meaning to my words.

* * * * *

As I lay here in my bed, the night surrounding me, thinking back to that fateful night so many years ago, the thought crosses my mind, 'Was it worth it?'  That night had brought heartbreak as well as happiness; there had been staunch disapproval by many at our growing relationship.  The Boy-Who-Lived was with the son of a Death Eater, it was a double betrayal of people's perceptions of their hero.

Of course there were those that stuck by us, especially Sirius, the man who realised what was there before either of us did.  I still swear to this day that he can read a man's soul and know what is in his heart, how else could he have understood what I felt before I did?  Many of Harry's close friends had stayed beside him, supporting us because they knew it made Harry happy.

I wasn't so lucky, pushed away by many of my remaining so-called friends, and disowned by my remaining family, a traitor to the family name and what it stood for.

At the thought of all I've lost a single tear escapes my eye.  A brush of tender lips across my cheek removes the salty track.  Turning my face to stare into liquid emerald pools, I see the love swimming in their depths and I know the answer to my question.  Yes, every loss was worth it to be here beside the person I love most in the world.

Warm arms envelope me, drawing me close.  I curl in tightly against the loving body beside me; tonight it's my turn to be held close and comforted.  Tonight my lover wipes away my tears in the night.

~finis~