Draco Malfoy and His Happily Ever After:

Author's Notes: So, finally, you can read the follow up to that last evil cliffhanger. Lucius' weird behavior doesn't get explained until a little later on in the chapter, so be patient. There's one or two scenes in this chapter as well as a few references to OoTP. Nothing too spoilery or important, though, just little details borrowed from canon. There's also an extra Author's Note at the end of the chapter concerning Harry's fifth year. Happy reading!

Warnings for this chapter: Smut. Language. The guest star appearance of several barnyard animals. You think I'm joking? Ha.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm merely borrowing them for the time being. This is slash. Don't like it? Don't read it. Otherwise, enjoy.

Draco's first coherent thought was ouch.

His vision was a little blurry and everything felt fuzzy through the haze of pain and confusion. He could feel the wind rushing past him, ruffling his hair and tugging at his robes and he could tell by the way his stomach seemed to be attempting to crawl up his throat he was flying. Something jolted his broken arm and he made a quiet noise of protest at the rough handling. "Just stay still, Draco. I've got you." Harry's voice was right near his ear and Draco was surprised to notice it was Harry's arms that were keeping him immobile. A flash of red out of the corner of his eye let him know Weasley was nearby.

"Hurts." He slurred, wincing. His head lolled back against Harry's shoulder and his eyelashes fluttered as he fought to stay conscious.

Harry's arms tightened imperceptibly around him. "I know. I'm sorry. Just hang in there, Draco." Before Draco could reply, Harry had to swerve the broom they were both doubled up on in a short dive to avoid an owl crossing their flight path. Another wave of pain crashed over Draco at the sudden, plunging movement and he let himself slip back into unconsciousness, where it was dark and still and peaceful, to escape it.

*

Draco woke slowly, struggling out of a sleep inch by inch until finally he found himself awake. His body ached all over, mainly in his joints, and his right arm burned in deep, painful pulses. There was a solemn quiet in the room, the kind afforded to the ill and injured. Biting his bottom lip from the effort, the Slytherin managed to take stock of the room as his head swum dizzily. White walls, bright wizard lamps, and the smell of old tinctures and linen; St. Mungo's then.

Draco had been ill once, as a child, and he still remembered the strange antiseptic smell of the place and the hustle and bustle of the busy Healers. He felt that same all-consuming exhaustion too, though the recollection of it had faded with time and the sensation he felt now was quite immediate, if not pleasant. He struggled to sit up, finding himself short of breath far too quickly.

It took a moment to realize there was someone next to him as he came fully alert and the fog of sleep lifted completely. Not two inches from Draco, Harry lay sleeping quietly in a chair by the bed, his upper body resting across the mattress. He looked haggard; tired and worn thin with worry. His hair was a riotous mess of black spikes and there were smudges of dirt and grime across his cheek and forehead. He had propped his head up on his folded arms and turned his face to the side so that his sooty glasses had slipped to the end of his nose and were threatening to fall off completely. Draco carefully plucked them from his face and folded them, stretching to set them on the bedside table.

His arm merely twinged at the movement and Draco took the time to inspect it, flexing his fingers and prodding at the healing bone. It still hurt, but it was a healing kind of pain; the sort that meant things were knitting themselves up and settling back into their correct places. The bone-breaking curse had done quite a number on him, but bones were easy to heal - it was the Dark Magic that had probably given the Healers trouble. Curses cast with an intense desire to harm were far harder to fix than mere hexes and spells gone awry. And having the Cruiciatus Curse cast on him hadn't done him any favors, that was for sure.

Harry was still sleeping, his brow furrowed and his mouth pressed into a hard line even as he slumbered. Draco couldn't resist stroking his hand across Harry's face, the backs of his fingers lingering along the smooth curve of the other boy's cheeks. Down towards his chin, the short stubble caught on Draco's fine skin, dragging with a rasp across his knuckles. The Gryffindor turned his face into the caress slightly, automatically moving to follow the affectionate gesture. Draco combed Harry's wild hair out of his face, enjoying the glossy feel of it against his fingers as he ran them through it again and again in a soothing pattern.

The door creaked open and Draco's head whipped around quickly. "Thought you were awake." Mad Eye Moody said laconically, eyeing Draco's hand which was still buried in Harry's hair. His mouth twitched, but he made no comment and that creepy eye of his rolled around to stare at Draco from it's sunken socket. The Slytherin shivered a little under the ex-Auror's gaze. He hated Mad Eye Moody. To be fair, the ferret incident had nothing to do with him, but Draco couldn't help but associate that humiliating memory with him anyway. Then there was his fifth year, when Moody had been the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor and had followed Draco everywhere, suspicion written in every line of his craggy face. No, Draco had no fondness for this man, beyond the fact he was one more body to stand between Harry and the Dark Lord.

"Where -" Draco's dry voice cracked and he cleared his throat, wetting his lips slightly before speaking again. "Where am I? St. Mungo's?"

"Yeh. Fourth Floor. Private ward. Potter made sure of that." Which explained the odd quiet of his room. St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries had to be busier than a beehive at the moment, but here everything was as silent as the grave. Draco, under normal circumstances, would have been subjected to a great deal of noise and hubbub in a smaller, more public ward, especially after the Death Eater attack when no doubt plenty of victims had swarmed the hospital in vast numbers. Harry, however, had quite a bit of a influence and if he'd wanted Draco to be put somewhere quiet and out of the way, well. That's where Draco was put, no questions asked beyond possibly the one requesting his autograph.

"Ah." Draco said, suddenly understanding. "And the Weasleys?"

"All of 'em are fine, though Molly's having fits."

Draco felt himself smile reluctantly. "I can only imagine."

"Ugh?" Harry grunted, waking up at the sound of their voices. He patted around absently for his glasses, his eyes screwed up in an exaggerated squint as peered around nearsightedly. Finally, Draco snagged them and handed them to the other boy, watching as Harry slid them on and blinked. "Draco! You're awake! Thank god!" The relief in his voice was palpable.

"I'll just be outside the door." Moody said, before thumping his way back outside. His peg leg made an odd little sound against the tiled floor as he left. Draco wondered if he was keeping guard on them. Then he realized that of course Moody would be keeping an eye on them after the attack, Harry especially.

Harry was staring at him, his eyes wide and dark with pain and guilt. Then Slytherin could almost see the litany of I'm sorry it's all my fault my fault my fault can't do anything right shouldn't have let you get hurt my fault I'm sorry running behind those green Killing Curse eyes of his. "I'm sorry Draco. It's all my fault. If I hadn't been there -"

"Oh shut up." Draco said irritably. "I don't want to hear about your stupid inflated sense of responsibility. It's not your fault. And believe me, if it was I'd be the first to tell you. So, what you're going to do is this. You're going to get me something to drink and then you're going to tell everyone I've regained consciousness while you're at it. After that, you will attend my every whim until I get better and if I hear one guilty whine out of you I'll make you suck my cock so at least that way your mouth will be full and I won't have to hear you going on about it. Okay?" He was tired and sore and he had no time for Harry's peculiar habit of blaming everything on himself. Draco was not a good patient at the best of times and this was no exception to the rule. He glowered at the other boy in order to drive home his warning.

And, inexplicably, Harry grinned at him, a charming lopsided affair that made even Draco's dour mood soften slightly. The Gryffindor's weariness had seemingly melted away in the face of his amusement. "Okay, Draco."

Draco looked at him suspiciously. "That's it? No protests."

"No protests. Besides, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley wanted to see you as soon as you woke up. Just to say hi. The Healer says you'll be able to check out tomorrow."

"What do you mean tomorrow?" Draco asked sharply.

"I mean the day after today." Harry said firmly. "The Healer insisted you stay overnight. I'm staying with you, don't worry, but you shouldn't leave just yet. You're not completely well yet."

"But-"

"No, Draco." Harry said evenly, but there was an intensity to his voice and a stubborn set to his jaw that Draco instinctively knew not to cross. He found himself thrusting his bottom lip out a little in protest, not that he was pouting or anything. Well, maybe just a little.

"Well, what are you just staring at me for then? My mouth is dryer than a camel's arse."

The Gryffindor snorted with laughter. "One glass of water, coming right up. And Draco?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad you're okay." The sincerity in his voice, the genuine caring, made a lump form in Draco's throat. It took him a moment to figure out how to work his voice properly again.

"Well, that makes two of us then."

Harry started to walk away, then reversed before he'd gotten three steps away like he'd suddenly remembered something. He turned around and captured Draco's mouth with his own, sliding his hands into the other boy's tawny hair and tilting his head back as he tried to devour Draco whole. The Slytherin gasped into his mouth, tongue twisting around Harry's as he lost himself in the flavor and feel of the other boys lips and tongue and teeth. When Harry pulled back, several minutes later, Draco felt dazed and his lips were swollen and moist, colored a pretty pink.

Harry grinned at him again. "I'll be right back in a few minutes. Okay?"

"Sure." Draco agreed complacently, still dazed from the kiss.

"Good." The Boy Who Lived turned to leave and before the door shut behind him. Draco found himself quickly drifting off to sleep again without Harry as a distraction, but the tingling of his lips and the slightly too fast thump of his heart in his chest told him that he wouldn't be left alone for long. Which was, of course, just the way it was supposed to be.

*

The Healer decided to let Draco leave early, reassuring Harry one last time that the blond was healing well and it was perfectly safe to take him home. Harry was dubious, but finally caved under the combined weight of Draco's complaining and the Healer's professional opinion. Draco suspected the Healer had mainly changed his mind because the hospital was quickly running out of room. On top of the Death Eater attack, a group of travelers had splinched themselves while attempting to Apparate into a warded area and the all the rooms on the fourth floor were quickly being filled up.

At any rate, it got him out of St. Mungo's so Draco didn't really care about the reason behind his swift departure. He was simply thankful he'd gotten lucky and was able to escape the madhouse that was St. Mungo's.

Sirius and Remus picked them up in the waiting room, obviously relieved. It was from them that Draco learned the Ministry of Magic was finally admitting Voldemort had returned, if only because of the attack, which had been dubbed the Puddlemere Massacre by the Daily Prophet. That wasn't the only front page news, however. Somehow, the media had discovered the location of Black Cottage, which even Voldemort had failed to do, and had proceeded to camp themselves on Sirius' doorstep.

Which meant they'd have to move, if only to escape the reporters who were circling like vultures, desperate for a comment from the Boy Who Lived and his makeshift family.

Sirius looked tired and rumpled, but happy. He slung an arm over Harry's shoulder and hugged him to his side, reassured at the solid feel of his godson next to him. "Dumbledore suggested we hide out in the Order's Headquarters for a while until all the hubbub dies down. The Ministry is still trying to find out who leaked to the press, so we can't trust them to find proper lodgings for us at the moment. And there's no way we can get through that zoo outside the cottage." Remus grimaced at the reminder, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly.

"Where exactly is the Order's Headquarters?" Harry asked, rolling his shoulders to ease the cramp he had gotten from sleeping in an awkward position to be near Draco.

Sirius grimaced. "Well, there's a few to choose from, really. But Moony thinks we should somewhere we're familiar with so that narrows down our options. There's the townhouse I inherited from my mother, but I'd rather snog Buckbeak than stay there so that leaves us with Black Manor. I never thought I'd have to see that gloomy pile of moldering stones again." The ex-convict sighed, running a hand through his shoulder length hair.

"It's not all that bad, is it?" Draco asked, rubbing at his aching arm.

"Bad enough. But it's better than 12 Grimmauld Place and at least we won't have to worry about the paparazzi if we're at the Manor. Even they wouldn't dare to go knocking on those gates." He looked up from where he'd been inspecting his shoes, taking in the way Draco was swaying on his feet and the tired lines around Harry's eyes. "You look beat, come on boys."

Before they left, Sirius owled Dobby and had him pick up their things from the cottage and move them to Black Manor with his house elf magic. Then, the four wizards stumbled outside, only to be met at the curb by Mad Eye Moody who was determined to keep guard on his charge during the trip to the Order's Headquarters. Draco didn't really see the point himself. They were with a werewolf, not to mention the only man who had escaped Azkaban with his sanity intact, so there was no reason for Moody to tag along. And Harry was more than capable of looking after himself, but they were all so tired no one bothered to argue with the retired Auror. It simply wasn't worth the effort.

The Knight Bus was more than adequate transportation, though with Mad Eye Moody along for the ride it was slightly uncomfortable. Draco spent the trip curled up next to Harry in a huge armchair, dozing off at random intervals with his head resting against the other boy's shoulder. When they finally reached Sirius' ancestral home, Draco couldn't help but find himself slightly impressed.

The manor itself was huge, made in the late fifteenth century when architects began to abandon defense for decoration. It loomed in the distance, its gray stone exterior giving the whole property a grim sort of feel. The lawn was huge, but barely visible in the fog, and a dark, shadowed grove of trees hunched on the horizon. There was a long, winding front drive and an imposing iron gate which was flanked by twin gargoyles who guarded it diligently.

The Knight Bus dropped them off with little fanfare, leaving the motley group to stare up at the imposing visage of Black Manor. The whole place gave off a menacing aura of intense gloom. Draco, oddly enough, felt right at home.

Draco's musings were interrupted as Moody shifted his weight to his good leg and spit derisively at the sight, no doubt thinking of all the Dark artifacts stashed away in the house. They started up the drive, slipping between the iron gates quietly while the gargoyle's watched with twisted, menacing expressions. They didn't attack though and Sirius barely gave them a second glance as he shut the gate behind everyone.

Halfway through the courtyard, which was enclosed by the walls of the house itself, Draco realized something… strange was going on. There were chickens in the courtyard. Squawking, molting, fussing chickens and they were everywhere. The gray stones were littered with feathers, straw, and dung of all sorts. Not too far away, two goats were watching the newcomers approach from within a makeshift pen, chewing absently on what appeared to be half of an unraveling, ancient tapestry. A huge pig trundled by, brushing past Draco and almost knocking him off his feet. The Slytherin watched, morbidly fascinated, as it pushed it's way through a gaggle of geese and started stealing their food. He couldn't figure out for the life of him what the hell was going on.

"Sirius?" Harry asked, watching with wide eyes as a chicken walked right over his foot.

"Oh didn't I mention it? The press has been bothering the Weasleys too so I invited them over. They had to bring their livestock along. The reporters kept kicking them around when Ron refused to be interviewed."

"Mmm." Was all Mad Eye Moody volunteered. He was too busy peering at one duck as if he expected it to transform into a Dark wizard at any second to reply properly.

"Oh great." Draco sighed. "Just when I thought I'd escaped them."

Harry elbowed him and the blond rolled his eyes, subsiding into a sulk. Sirius grinned at the exchange and continued talking. "Hermione's here too. She didn't want to miss out on the fun."

"Oh joy." Draco said flatly, ducking Harry's elbow this time. Ha, who said he didn't learn from his mistakes?

"You should be able to safely explore the whole house, just keep out of the attic. There's a whole boggle of boggarts up there. And there's a Querulous Pine in the backyard, so be careful if you decide to tromp around out there." Mad Eye Moody listened to Sirius' advice with narrowed eyes, but held his peace.

"A what pine?" Harry asked, his brow furrowed with confusion.

"A Querulous Pine. It's like a Whomping Willow, but a little less violent." Remus interjected. "It tends to drop pinecones on your head and it might try to trip you up with its roots. Harmless on the whole, but Sirius was right to warn you about it. Better safe than sorry."

"Yeah. I've asked Dobby to help out around the house for the rest of the summer so just call for him if you need help with anything. The house isn't in very good shape, so don't be surprised if Molly pressgangs you into helping her clean. Oh! And there's an old house elf named Crabby hiding around here somewhere, but I wouldn't bother him if I were you. He's pretty senile. Not quite right in the head, if you know what I mean."

"Is that all?" Draco inquired, busy ducking around a cow and inside the entrance hall. Harry was right on his heels, swiftly followed by Sirius and Remus. Mad Eye Moody waved them ahead, thumping over to peer into a cistern. Draco couldn't hold back his sigh of relief at finally being out from under the ex-auror's constant scrutiny. There was a thin line between vigilance and paranoia; Moody had gone past it about twenty years ago by some margin.

Sirius frowned, staring around the room as if wracking his brain for some tidbit he'd forgotten. "I think so. I'll let you know if there's anything else you should watch out for."

"Harry!"

"Oh, Harry!" Granger threw herself at Harry, hugging him tightly while the Weasel hurried down the stairs to join them. "I was so worried about you all when I heard about the attack on the Wizarding Wireless. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Draco was the one who was hurt, but he's healing up nicely."

Hermione turned and for a split second she was about to hug him, but at then she seemed to realize exactly what she was doing and stepped back awkwardly, clearing her throat. "Ah. I hope your feeling better then." Draco backed up a step, just to be sure she wouldn't change her mind and watched her warily.

"Thank you. But I am feeling a little worn down. I don't suppose any of the bedrooms are fit for use?"

"Uh, up the stairs, second door on the left. You and Harry can share, if that's okay?" Sirius asked, winking at the Slytherin.

"Thanks. I think I'm going to have a lie down. Could you wake me for dinner?"

Remus smiled at him and made shooing motions with his hands. "Sure. Go on now, get some rest. You must be exhausted."

"I am."

"I think I'll take a nap too." Harry announced out of the blue. He sounded suspiciously innocent and he didn't bother to meet anyone's eyes.

Ron grimaced. "Whatever you say, mate. Just watch out for Fred and George, they've been poking their noses into all the rooms. They almost got eaten by an animated armchair an hour ago when they went into one of the studies."

"We'll keep that in mind. Weasley, Granger." He gave them each a polite nod and started up the staircase, his hand grasping the banister as he climbed to help him keep his suddenly uncertain balance. Harry made his own farewells and followed quickly, literally running up the stairs. Draco didn't make it more than three steps in the room before the Gryffindor had the door locked and a heavy silencing spell set on the room.

"You… God, do you have any idea how you scared me? Don't ever do that to me again! I thought.. I thought you were dead, you prat!"

"Er… sorry?" As if it was Draco's fault Death Eater's had attacked him. Really, now.

But thankfully, Harry wasn't in the mood for conversation.

He stalked over to Draco and started tearing at his clothes, backing the blond into the big king sized bed as he undressed him. Draco, more than a little confused, rode it out. Harry's fingers fumbled with his buttons and his fly, tugging at his feet to free him from his socks and shoes, but before too long the Slytherin was naked. It only took a shove to send Draco reeling onto the bed, falling with an 'oomph' of expelled air as he collapsed onto his back. Harry undressed himself even more quickly, shucking his clothes so fast it was a wonder he didn't rip them in half.

And then Harry pounced, his chest pressed against Draco's as he tried to devour the other boy with his mouth. It was… intense was the only word Draco could think of. He could feel Harry's power thrumming through the room, barely suppressed and immensely volatile. Harry's eyes blazed and his hands trembled as he ran them up and down the Slytherin's slender body as if expecting to find some fatal wound at any moment.

Draco could only lie still and accept the flurry of desperate caresses and kisses, letting them wash over him like a force of nature. It was tender and heartfelt, but there was an urgent need and a sharp hunger behind it that made his own throat choke up in empathy. Harry trailed wet kisses down Draco's chest and over his ribs, sometimes scraping at the pale skin with his teeth and other times letting his lips barely whisper over it. "Please, oh please…" Harry moaned into Draco's stomach, and the vibrations made Draco squirm.

"Please what?" He cradled Harry's head in his hands, tilting his face up to better read his expression.

"Please, promise me. Promise me you won't die. I couldn't - it would be too much. I just - you can't! You can't die. Promise me!" And Harry's eyes were so green and wet and wide and they begged so eloquently that Draco couldn't find it within himself to refuse. He knew that he was as mortal as any other wizard and would normally never make such a foolish promise, but if it made Harry feel better…

"I promise, Harry. I'll do whatever is in my power to stay alive. And you'll do the same." It was an order, not a request, and Harry nodded immediately, too relieved to bother with any sort of protest at all. The Gryffindor bent his dark, ruffled head and mouthed along Draco's stomach to the knob of one hipbone, sucking hungrily at it's angles. The questions and worries whirling through Draco's head faded away under a sudden onslaught of lust.

And where on earth had Harry picked that up? Tongues weren't meant to twist that way, or at least that's what he'd always thought before he'd seen his lover improvise that little move.

He gave himself up to Harry's all-consuming need. Draco, for once in his life, completely surrendered control and just let himself feel. He let himself feel Harry's hands smooth down his thighs, feel Harry knead his ass cheeks, feel Harry's hair brush lightly brush against his cock and feel the flex of his arms as he lifted them above his head and feel his tongue prod at his entrance and his cock slide right inside him and the clench of muscles around his cock and his teeth sink into his neck and the blood well on his tongue and his hands grasp his hips and his fingernails press into his arms and the fierce, steady pump of his cock and his lips bruise from his hard kisses and the tears smearing his chest and his choking sobs gust over his cheek and the tickling drip of wetness over his chin and sweat sheen his skin and the sheets sticking to his back and the feel of calloused hands encircling his cock even as he felt the hot, hard, slickness of a cock fill his fist and the vase in the corner shatter into a million pieces and the magic explode through the room and the ecstasy flood through him so strongly the only thing he could think was Harry, but it was all mixed up with the voice that said Draco and there was one moment of pure and utter completion when everything in the universe was right and it felt so good it hurt and then - and then -

And then Draco was himself again and he could distinguish his own thoughts from Harry's, though the mind-blowing orgasm had dazed him so much his thoughts pretty much consisted of wow and my ass hurts.

"What." Harry croaked, his hair corkscrewing in every direction and absolutely drenched with sweat. Not that Draco's was much better, he was sure. "Th'hell. Was. That?" The last part of the sentence was blurted between breathless pants and both boys were lying side by side on the bed, staring up at the ceiling in shock. They'd lost themselves so completely in their lovemaking that more than two hours had slipped by.

The Slytherin was still too busy trying to figure out how to breathe to reply, but eventually his heart stopped battering at his ribcage and his lungs started working again. It only took two tries for him to force his tongue to work properly. "Wizarding sex. It's like that sometimes. Mostly when there's a lot of emotion involved. Doesn't happen often though."

"Holy fuck." Harry swore fervently, letting his head flop to the side so he could squint at Draco nearsightedly. His glasses were somewhere in the vicinity of the far wall and smashed all to hell too. Draco wasn't quite sure when he'd torn them off Harry's face and hurled them across the room, but there was no doubt the indent in the wall and the sprinkling of glass under it were all his fault.

Draco's eyelids were drooping and he instinctively curled into Harry's warmth, snuggling in against him when Harry slipped his arm around the Slytherin and tugged him closer. Harry struggled to pull the duvet over them both and once he did the incredible warmth and comfort of the situation made Draco sigh so very, very deeply he felt like he was sighing from the bottom of his soul.

He had almost fallen asleep when some niggling thought prodded at him, pulling him out of his exhausted stupor. "Harry." The Gryffindor nuzzled Draco's hair sleepily, muttering to himself softly and quite incomprehensibly. "Harry." Draco insisted with more force.

"Wha? What is it?" Harry asked, yawning. "Nap now. Talk later."

"Talk now. I need to know what happened with Lucius. How'd you get me out of there?"

That managed to wake him up a little. Harry blinked a few times as he gathered his scrambled thoughts before replying. "Oh. He helped me and Ron take down the other Death Eaters and then had us Obliviate them and knock them unconscious. Draco…" Draco braced himself for bad news. That serious, pained tone of voice never boded well. When Harry continued, his voice was gentle and sympathetic. "Lucius made me Obliviate him too. And he wanted me to tell you that next time, he won't help."

"I'm surprised he decided to intervene in the first place, frankly." Draco said tiredly, sitting up so that the duvet fell to his waist. He braced his back against the headboard and rubbed at his eyes. Merlin, he was so, so tired. Right down to the marrow of his bones. The injuries, then the trip over on the Knight Bus with Moody's freaky eye following his every move the whole time, the incredible sex, and now hearing about Lucius - it was all a little too much to handle in so short a time.

"You need to rest and so do I. Come on, Draco. I've got you." Harry said softly, pulling him down to lie against his side.

"That's what you said before. On the flight to St. Mungo's." The blond said quietly, tucking his head under Harry's chin. The Gryffindor turned to hold him, pressing a kiss to his temple and then to the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't think you'd remember that. But I meant it.

Draco had to bite his lip to prevent himself from doing something stupid and girly, like professing love or crying. "Enough with the sap."

"And on to the nap? Get it, it rhymes? Sap, nap? Never mind."

"You think you're so clever. But in actuality Harry, your attempts at humor are really very sad."

"Obviously, you're feeling better if you can tease me."

Draco grinned into Harry's shoulder. "No. I could probably do that on my deathbed." However, morbid humor was apparently not Harry's cup of tea. The Gryffindor's arms tightened around Draco's slender form, crushing him to his chest. "Hey! I do need to breathe you know. I'm not going anywhere Harry. I promised, remember?"

"I know." Harry mumbled into his hair, still not relaxing his grip. "I actually thought the Killing Curse had gotten you. It was just a moment, but… I never want to feel that way again."

"Harry." Draco said quite seriously, pulling back so that the other boy was forced to meet his eyes. "You know I don't believe in love, right? But in all honesty, I've never seen it before so I probably wouldn't recognize it if it came up and bit me on the arse. But if there is such a thing as love and if I am capable of it, I'd love you. I'd be head over heels in love with you." Then Draco abruptly realized exactly what he had just said. "And here I thought I'd get away with skipping the mushy confession." Draco could only hope none of his fellow Slytherins ever found out about it. His reputation would be forever ruined.

And the little voice inside his head that said Harry would be worth it was going to be squashed beyond all recognition if it piped up one more time!

Harry smiled and it was such a sweet, incredibly blissful smile Draco found himself smiling shyly back, despite his resolve not to. Draco just couldn't stop himself, not when Harry's eyes were shining like that and he looked like he'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted all at once. "I know. I've always known. And I love you too, Draco." Oh, yeah. There was a shocker.

"Have I ever told you that you're predictable?"

That got him a pinch on his bum and, oddly enough, a fond look. "Sod off, wanker."

"You wish." Draco shot back.

"Oh, go to bed." They settled down together, cuddling closely, and Draco found himself smirking.

He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Arse-licker."

For once Harry was too tired to blush. "God, you suck."

"I swallow too."

"Draco!" Ha, ha! Draco crowed in triumph silently. Got 'em. Harry's cheeks were cherry red with embarrassment and arousal, just the way Draco liked them. Chuckling to himself, Draco settled his head on Harry's shoulder. Moments later he slipped into unconsciousness with a smile tugging at his lips.

He might have been Harry Potter's bitch, but he still had his zingy one-liners.

To Be Continued…

Extra Author's Note: Okay, the OoTP AU thing is confusing, so I thought I'd elaborate a little on my pre-OoTP version. Harry's fifth year went something like this; The DADA professor was the real Mad Eye Moody (as previously mentioned above). Harry took Cedric's death much more gracefully than Canon!Harry did, though he did get in a fight or two with Ron to prevent him from bottling up all his emotions and he flew on his Firebolt a lot. Hermione spent the year mothering Harry and driving him to distraction without realizing it (which was briefly referred to in DM&UF) and the rest of the school pretty much left Harry to his own devices so he could grieve properly. The Ministry spent the year denying Voldemort's return, so there was some speculation as to Harry's sanity and the situation with Cedric, though no one was dense enough to actually confront Harry about the rumors. Except for Draco and he got bitch slapped for it. No, not really, but he did get punched in the nose by Harry. There was, of course, the typical Life Threatening Event (of your choice, because I'm too lazy to invent one at the moment) and Harry managed to narrowly avoid certain death and probably saved Neville Longbottom's life in the bargain. However, Draco did drop his wineglass during their Owls. So, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

Constructive criticism and comments are more than welcome.