Draco got up, brushing himself off. Damn. That could have gone better, not that he'd really expected it to.

He looked at his parents' letter again.

Dear Draco,

According to Mr. Zabini, you are now dating Harry Potter. I would be reluctant to believe this, knowing of your long enmity with the boy, but several other people – including Professor Snape – have heard similar rumors.

If this is true, I am thrilled to see that you have finally begun dating – and Mr. Potter is certainly a worthy boyfriend. Your father and I would like to extend an invitation to him to come and stay at Malfoy Manor over the Christmas vacation – assuming he has not already made other plans, of course.

Regardless, we cannot wait to see you again.

Love,

Narcissa Malfoy

Draco knew he must have mentioned Harry and Ron's friendship with all the complaining he had done about them and even if he hadn't, Snape surely would have. So while he really would like to keep the Weasleys out of his Christmas, that wasn't the reason the letter had upset him so much.

But he knew he needed to mention it before Harry met his parents, and he hadn't known what else to say. He wasn't entirely certain himself why the letter had upset him. Maybe it was just that he'd been hoping to tell his parents himself – having them find out on their own made him feel vulnerable and helpless – not at all in control of the situation. Maybe it was that it had been Blaise's father who told them. Who knew what rumors Blaise had told his father that Mr. Zabini could have passed on to Draco's parents? Or maybe it was the way they had simply embraced Harry as their son's boyfriend – like they'd been expecting it for years – that made him feel so naked and out of control. And then there was the fear of what Harry would think of his parents. They weren't exactly the most liberal people on the world, and while he loved them dearly he doubted that Harry would be able to see past the huge mansion and the house elves long enough to see them as people.

With a sigh, he set off towards the castle. He could talk to Harry and apologize at lunch. Right now, he was in danger of being late to his next class.




But Harry avoided him at lunch, and for the rest of the day. By the time Draco went to bed, he still hadn't gotten a chance to speak to Harry all day. Even before coming out to the school, they had managed to at least talk two or three times a day. The fact that he'd barely even seen Harry since that morning had Draco more worried than he was willing to admit.

He lay awake, tossing and turning for hours as he went over Harry's schedule for the next day, trying to come up with a time when he could corner him.

He was still awake when the sky began to lighten outside his window. At that point, he figured it would be better for him to just get up than risking falling asleep and not being able to wake up.

He snuck down to the kitchens in search of a cup of coffee – if he couldn't sleep, at least he could be awake for class. Most of the house elves were still asleep, but a few were up and about, beginning to prepare breakfast. One respectfully got him his coffee and a slice of bread. Truly pathetic creatures, really, but useful.

Stifling a yawn, Draco slipped outside, walking towards the lake. He shivered slightly in the early morning chill, sipping his coffee to warm him. The grass was lightly frosted with ice and his breath came in white puffs.

He wished Harry were here – how many times had they walked together before anyone else was up? Harry had always managed to get up early if it meant seeing Draco once more. And after weeks of walking or flying with Harry over the Hogwarts grounds before sunrise, Draco had begun to associate the gray, pre-dawn light with Harry.

But now it only made him feel even colder inside. If he could just talk to Harry and apologize…

But Harry was undoubtedly still fast asleep in his nice, warm bed.

Eventually, Draco got tired of walking over the Hogwarts grounds, worrying about Harry, and went inside.

He entered the Slytherin common room to find Blaise sitting by the fire, finishing up what looked like his charms homework. He looked up when Draco came in, favoring him with a cold smile.

"You're up early."

Draco rolled his eyes. Blaise was the last person he wanted to talk to just now.

"Were you with Potter?"

Draco walked past him, hoping that if he ignored the other boy he'd go away.

"Well? Were you?" Blaise persisted, following him to the stairs.

"No," Draco answered curtly.

"Oh? Did you two have a fight? That's what you get, dating muggle-raised mudbloods like him."

Draco gritted his teeth. "Would you like to replace him?"

Blaise gave him a disgusted look. "Hardly. I suppose that letter you got was your parents' telling you to dump him."

Draco smirked. "Actually, they invited Harry to stay with us over Christmas."

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "Oh really? And I suppose Harry's just champing at the bit to stay with the supporters of the man who killed his parents for Christmas?"

Draco internally winced. That comment hit just a little too close to home for comfort, not that he was going to let Blaise see that. "Well, he doesn't seem to mind dating their son. Now excuse me while I go get ready for class."

With that, Draco left the room before Blaise could come up with anything else to say.




It seemed that Harry was still avoiding him that day. Draco would have tried to corner him after classes, except that he had quidditch practice and if he let Harry get in the way of quidditch, there would be trouble with the other Slytherins. There was no way Marcus would forgive him for being late to practice just so he could talk to his boyfriend.

When practice was over, Draco stayed outside. When the rest of his teammates were gone, he took off into the air again.

I wonder what it was like, to ride a hippogriff? He wasn't sure why he was thinking of the hippogriff incident right now, other than that it reminded him of Harry. Then again, so did just about everything else.

Now that was a scary realization – everything made him think of Harry. It wasn't just that he was always thinking of him; everything Draco could think about reminded him of the boy. An even scarier realization was that this had been true since practically the day they'd met. Before he had always managed to convert his obsession with Harry into complaints – even convincing himself that his crush was merely physical attraction and that he truly hated Harry.

That kiss in the potions classroom had smashed all that to pieces, leaving him to face the reality that he truly couldn't imagine a life without Harry in it; for good or for ill, he needed Harry to be part of his world. Whether he was hating Harry or loving him, Harry would always be the center of his universe.

Somehow that hadn't been quite such a frightening thought when they were enemies. As enemies, all he had to worry about was suppressing his attraction to Harry. As lovers Draco had to worry about Harry's feelings towards him – as lovers he risked the possibility of losing Harry. And what would he do if Harry ever dumped him? He knew that he could never be content to go back to being enemies with Harry, and he didn't think he could survive without having Harry there in some way or another. He'd forgotten how to do that the day they'd met – in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions over two years ago… Had it really been only been two and a half years? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

They'd both been so young – only just eleven years old – with no idea of what their lives held in store for them. No idea how much they would come to mean to each other. So much had happened in those two years – the philosopher's stone, the basilisk and the chamber of secrets…

Draco smiled, remembering his first sight of Harry:


He was eleven years old, standing in Madam Malkin's while he was being fitted for his robes. The bell above the door jangled as a young boy with messy, black hair and glasses entered the shop. He looked around nervously until Madam Malkin herself led him over to the footstool next to Draco's. She slipped a robe over the boy's head and set about pinning it to the right length.

Up close, Draco could see that he was a nice looking boy, despite the messy hair. Actually, the hair almost obscuring his eyes seemed rather attractive, now that Draco got a good look at his face. He seemed to be about Draco's age. Draco decided that he liked the boy. He looked like he came from a decent family, and there was something about him that made Draco feel that he very much wanted to be his friend.

"Hello," Draco greeted him, trying to sound as friendly as he could. "Hogwarts too?" If they were both going to Hogwarts, maybe they'd be in the same House.

"Yes," the boy replied.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," Draco told him, saying the first thing that came to his mind in the hope of starting up a conversation. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." The boy didn't respond, so Draco asked him, "Have you got your own broom?" Maybe if he did, Draco could ask to see it.

"No," the boy said dully.

When he didn't elaborate, Draco tried again. "Play Quidditch at all?" If the boy did, maybe Draco could bully his father into buying the boy a broom as well.

"No," the boy replied.

How was Draco supposed to befriend the boy when he couldn't get him to say more than one word at a time? Perhaps the boy was demented or something. According to his father had, they'd let anyone into Hogwarts now, and it wasn't such a huge leap from mudbloods to retarded children. Still, the boy hadn't looked demented before. "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm."

At least he hadn't said 'no.' That was progress, right? Draco wracked his brain for something else to say. He was beginning to wonder if he wanted to befriend this boy after all – he didn't seem too friendly. But Draco figured he might as well keep trying. Suddenly he noticed a huge, shaggy man standing outside the window, grinning like the maniac he surely was. "I say, look at that man!" Draco said, nodding towards the monster of a man.

"That's Hagrid," the boy informed him. Hagrid. The name sounded familiar. "He works at Hogwarts."

Then Draco remembered his father mentioning him. "Oh. I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?" Draco asked, glad that the boy was finally showing signs of human intelligence.

"He's the gamekeeper," the boy told him.

"Yes, exactly," Draco nodded, trying to remember what his father had said about him. "I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant," said the boy said coldly.

"Do you?" Draco asked surprised. Then he noticed the two ice cream cones the giant was holding. Shit. He must be here with the other boy. Oh well, no taking back what he'd said now. But surely the monster – Hagrid – couldn't be the dark haired boy's father. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," The boy said coldly. So much for progress.

"Oh, sorry," Draco said. Suddenly something occurred to him. "But they were our kind, weren't they?" If the boy was a mudblood, maybe that would explain his hostility towards Draco. You couldn't expect mudbloods to act like civilized wizards, after all.

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

Draco let out a sigh of relief. At least the boy was a pureblood then. "I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same; they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?" If the boy was a pureblood, Draco was bound to have at least heard of his family.

But before he got and answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and the boy hopped from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," Draco said. The boy didn't even look at him before leaving the store to go off with that frightening creature he was here with.


It had only been on the Hogwarts Express that Draco had realized who the dark haired boy was. Harry Potter. The Harry Potter – the boy who lived. One of the most famous wizards alive.

Draco had, of course, been even more intent on befriending him after he realized that. Remembering that Harry Potter had been raised by muggles, he had offered to help Harry make the right friends. Harry surely didn't know a thing about the wizarding world or who was the right sort of person for a young wizard to befriend. And seeing him with that Weasley… How many times had his father told him to avoid the Weasleys? Murderous people – worse than muggles.

More than once his mother had complained that it was so unfair – Mr. Weasley murdered their first-born son and then Narcissa nearly died giving birth to Draco while the Weasleys were blessed with more children than they could afford. Not fair at all.

But Harry had rejected his friendship, choosing the son of the man who had killed Draco's brother instead and Draco had been forced to give up on their friendship, though not his obsession with the boy.

Draco could never really forgive the Weasleys for robbing him of his brother and his parents of their oldest son, though for Harry he might forgive Ron. But there he came back to the heart of his problem, for though he was willing to forgive Ron, he knew his parents never would. He'd never known his brother, though more than once he'd wondered what it would have been like to have an older brother instead of being an only child. He used to wonder if perhaps if his brother was still alive, his father might have been home more when he was little. Maybe, just maybe, if his brother hadn't died Mr. Malfoy might not have flung himself so completely into his work, sometimes seeming to forget that a world existed beyond his job and his plans and ambitions. He had paid a fortune to see that Draco had all the best tutors before he went off to school and went out of his way to ensure that Draco got the best education possible while at Hogwarts. Draco had learned early on how to coax his father into buying him just about anything, much to his mother's displeasure.

But then, his mother was almost as bad. He couldn't get her to buy him a new broomstick or bribe his way onto the team, but she would give him all the candy or small toys he wanted – provided he ate his dinner and more or less behaved. She rewarded good grades with extra chocolates and injuries with as many sweets as he could eat.

His parents fought sometimes, each saying that the other was spoiling him and each saying that their indulgences were justified. But mostly they loved him – he was their pride and joy and the only child they would ever have.

Draco had never really worried about their reaction to Harry – whether they approved or not, they would die before hurting him at all. If they really disapproved, his father would have written the letter, congratulating him but advising caution. And even if they hated Harry, they would tolerate him for Draco's sake.

But Draco seriously doubted that their love of him outweighed their hatred of the Weasleys. If Harry mentioned Ron, Draco had no idea what his parents would do, but he was sure it wouldn't be good whatever it was. And he really didn't want to lose Harry now over something like that.

Unfortunately, he seemed to be losing Harry anyway and Harry wouldn't even let him talk to him. He had known Harry wouldn't be thrilled, but he hadn't thought he would be quite this offended. If Draco could only talk to him and apologize…

Resolving to corner Harry after dinner that evening, Draco landed and went inside to get a start on his homework.

A/N: Stars-n-moons91: Hmm... I think the fact that they're both so hot is the reason other people like H/D so much -- you don't have to be jealous of either of them 'cause they're gay and you get two cute guys for the price of one... but I'm glad you like the fic anyway. Makai Dragon, Orange and Kashiaga: Thanks :D