"There was... something else," Harry said softly, eyes closed, lips brushing Draco's with every syllable.

"Oh? And what would this something else be?" Draco smirked at Harry, but this wasn't the "Ha-ha I just caused you pain" smirk he'd been so used to using. This was a "You're sexy, and damn it, so am I" sort of smirk.

"Well... you know how they were always on parchment?" Harry stood and went back to where his Invisibility Cloak was pooled on the floor, looking almost like liquid silver.

"I have every one of them in a cursed drawer. Yes, I know," Draco replied.

"Well," Harry said as he began digging through the cloak, "well, there was one... Ah, damn it, where'd it go?" He picked the cloak up and shook it, and Draco watched as a rolled-up canvas fell to the floor. It was tied with a piece of gold and silver string. "Here it is. It's strange about this thing," he said, gesturing to the Invisibility Cloak, "because it does have pockets, even though you can't see them. It makes them--"

"Invisible," Draco finished. "But a pocket isn't exactly a thing, so how does that work?"

Harry smiled and shrugged. "I don't know. This one was the only one I ever did on canvas, earlier this year. Seamus almost found it while it was drying," he shuddered, "but he didn't. Thank Merlin." He hesitated, then held the canvas scroll out to Draco.

Draco took it slowly, smiling. "You've drawn me surprised, crying, afraid, smirking... what could this be?"

"Just look at it, would you, you bloody git?"

Draco smiled as he untied the ribbon. The canvas, when unrolled, was much larger than it had looked. Draco looked at it, looked back at a blushing Harry, and then back down at the canvas.

Raven hair fell over a tanned forehead and soft lips pressed against Draco's. A gentle hand reached up and tucked a sprig of lavender behind his ear, and Draco couldn't help but reach up and touch the spot on his own temple. There was nothing there.

Harry shrugged at Draco's curious gaze, fiddling with the lavender still in his hands. Draco's eyes were caught by the movement, and on a sudden whim, he leaned forward and pressed his lips again to Harry's.

As if reading Draco's mind, Harry reached up and tucked the lavender behind Draco's ear.

= = =

"Harry? Are you okay? What are you staring at?"

Harry stopped staring at Draco and coughed. "Er... nothing. Just zoning out, I guess. Sorry, Hermione."

Hermione smiled. "That's all right, Harry. Anyway, like I was saying, Ron and I were going to go to Hogsmeade at the next weekend, you don't mind us leaving you alone, do you?"

Harry choked on the pumpkin juice he was drinking. "What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, Harry, if you tell us who you're in love with, it'll be so much easier."

Harry's jaw hit the floor. "Wha... what? What are you talking about? I'm not in love!"

"Whatever. Ron, you tell him. I have to go to McGonagall, I only got an A on one of my tests, so I wanted some extra credit..." Hermione stood up and left the Great Hall, Ron watching her.

"She's beautiful, isn't she," he said distractedly to Harry.

"Um, Ron, are you feeling all right?"

Ron laughed. "That's right, you weren't listening when 'Mione told you... We're together, Harry."

Harry's jaw, again, hit the floor. "Wha..."

"Oh, hell, Malfoy's got her cornered at the door." Ron stood to deal with Malfoy, but Harry stopped him.

"Wait, Ron, let me."

"She's not your girlfriend," Ron muttered, but sank back into his seat.

"Malfoy," Harry said coldly, striding over to where Malfoy was harassing Hermione and ignoring the breaking of his heart--Great, another fight with Draco.

"Potter. How lovely to see you," he said sarcastically.

"Why don't you just leave us alone for a day, you great twat?"

"Oh, but then you'd miss me, Potter," Draco said, sneering. "Oh, come off it, Potter, I've seen you staring at me."

"Yeah, well, you'd have to be looking to see me." Harry smirked as Draco flushed, noting the subtle question in the other boy's eyes and shaking his head ever so slightly.

"And they call you the Boy who Lived." Draco snorted, turning to leave, and Harry said, just before he was out of earshot, "I wish they wouldn't."

Draco turned back, looking curiously, into Harry's eyes, but Harry dropped his gaze.

"Get out, Malfoy," he said softly.

"What do you mean, you wish they wouldn't?" Draco asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"I'm the hero who gets to kill Voldemort. Yippee for me. I'm also a person, and people would do well to remember that."

"Harry, we remember," Hermione said softly, and Harry turned to smile gratefully at her.

"I know, 'Mione, and you're wonderful for it. Now go tell Ron he's the luckiest man on Earth."

Hermione nodded slightly and went back to the table, giving up on extra credit for McGonagall. Harry turned back to Draco. "See what I mean," he said softly, "the Boy Who Lived is more than that."

Draco nodded. "I figured that out when I looked at your essay for Snape and saw Alone's handwriting."

Harry tipped his head. "So why did we act like we hated each other for so long?" he asked.

Draco stood in thought for a moment, then smirked. "Your friends are waiting for you, Potter," he said softly. "Wouldn't want them to suspect, would we?" And with that, he turned and left.

Harry went back to the Gryffindor table, sitting beside Hermione and Ron, who were both staring at him.

"So," he said brightly, "you're together."

"Was that a civilized conversation?" Ron asked in awe. "With Malfoy?"

"No," Harry said softly. "That was a civilized conversation... with Draco."