A/N: i'm incredibly pleased that you all are enjoying the story, especially since i seem to be harboring severe trepidition about it. however, tonight is my last night in the dorms for a month, i've had a bit of wine, and all trepidition is forgotten.

along with spell-check, so be advised.

to answer a few reviews, yes, harry knew about draco before he told ron about justin, there's litle over a month time span between the two sections. his motives will be explained later.

btw, the last bit i'm posting is the farthest i've gotten in plot thus-far (i've written a lot that i haven't posted yet between it and the current justin/ron/draco plot), it's 4 years after graduation.

-- chapter 1 -- chapter 5.2 -- chapter 4.1 -- chapter 3.1 -- chapter 6.1 -- chapter 5.1 -- chapter 2 -- chapter 4.2 -- chapter 3.2 -- chapter 4.3 -- chapter 7 -- chapter 6.2 -- chapter 8.2 -- chapter 8.1 -- chapter 8.3 --

- July 19 - 1998 -

Not until the small box came with a prestigious black queen tucked inside the cushioned interior, holding a letter shrunk to fit in her hand, did I speak again. I took her up to my room and set her on the bed before going to my trunk and taking out the rest of the pieces he had given me. I lined the boxes up next to each other and opened each in turn, the pieces starring up at me with perfect little black and white faces shimmering in the dim light. I sat on the floor in front of them and starred, not sure if I was ready to think about him yet. The black queen held out the letter, her tiny voice telling me to take it from her. I did so and enlarged it to normal size, looking over the expensive parchment and the Malfoy crest that sealed it closed. Before I could decide whether to burn it or read it, there was a knock on the door and Harry's face appeared in the doorway.

"Mum sent me to tell you dinner's… Whoa, where'd those come from?"

I looked from the letter to them and sighed a little, "Malfoy. He's been sending them to me since it all started. The last piece just came a few minutes ago."

The door creaked a bit as Harry stepped inside and stood over me, looking at the pieces, "Why would he do that? He just married Parkinson. It's all over the front page of the Prophet."

Despite myself, I let out a sad laugh that I'm sure sounded more pathetic than amused, "To remind me that it isn't over."

"But he's married…"

I shook my head and looked up at him, feeling somehow beaten and tired, "It's doesn't matter. None of that matters. He pursued me while dating her, he pursued me while trying to date Ginny, and he pursued me while I was with Justin. Fidelity isn't a word in his vocabulary. I'm his no matter what our situations are and he wants me to remember that."

"Well, if he's so intent on having you, then why did he just get married? Why not just be with you?"

"Because he can't. He has to marry, produce an heir, be a respectable Malfoy, all that rubbish. His father would disown and probably kill him if he defied him and took up with me."

"So, instead he sends you chess pieces?" He sounded incredulous as he sat down next to me, starring at the chess pieces as well.

"He's done it since we began. Every time he does something wrong, I get a chess piece. The value of the piece on the board equaled the value of his action. When he didn't show up to a planned meeting, I found a pawn on my pillow. When he did those things with Pansy in front of me, I got knights, rooks. When he flirted with Ginny, I got bishops. When he had Crabbe and Goyle hurt Justin, I got the black king and white queen. When he got the Mark, I got the white king. Now he's married Pansy, I have the black queen, the full set."

"So what happens now? Do you meet him at the manner or something?"

I steeled myself and stood, "No, now I burn the letter and never speak to him again. When he left me, I told him that it was over, that I wouldn't let him touch me again, and I meant it. Never again. I don't give a bloody fuck if he sends me Strikelightening 2000 next. I won't touch him." I turned and left the room, the letter clutched in my hand. My family looked at me strangely from the dinner table when I tossed the parchment in the flames, but I didn't give them an explanation and they didn't ask, having gotten used to my silence by then. Harry came down a minute later and sat down next to George. Regular conversation started back up a few awkward moments later.

- February 4 - 1998 - Seventh Year -

I had been so angry all week that I was twitching and Harry and Hermione were giving me worried looks when they weren't telling me to relax. My hands were tingling, just waiting to get him alone. I was going to kill him, literally. He had done sick things to me for six years, and I had taken it because I thought I loved him, but when I saw Justin in that hospital bed, something snapped. No matter how angry Malfoy was, he did not touch Justin. And so I waited for my golden opportunity to find him without Crabbe and Goyle, or Pansy, when I could make him cry out in pain and beg for mercy he did not deserve.

I saw him on the way to dinner one night, Crabbe and Goyle flanking him with menacing glares. I ignored them, they were not worth my effort, but I gave Malfoy the most malicious sneer I had ever been able to form. He only smirked and looked me up and down. "How's the Hufflepuff, out yet? I bet you can't wait so you can fuck him some more, right? You sick, disgusting faggot."

The anger built up so fast that I saw red and before I even had time to think of what Crabbe and Goyle would do, my fist connected with his nose. The force of the punch knocked him down, and I pounced on him, swinging at every inch of available skin, screaming at him Merlin only knows what. And then I felt arms under my armpits and I was being lifted up and slammed against the wall. I was face to face with Crabbe and Goyle and the looked ready to kill.

Before they could lift their fists high enough to punch me though, there was a weak 'no' from behind them and they turned almost like twins to look at him. Malfoy had managed to stand up, but was shaking on his legs. There were cuts along his cheek; his lip was split open in several places; and his nose slanted and bleeding profusely. Good, the bastard deserved much worse than a few cuts and bruises and a broken nose. He stumbled up to where the two Neanderthals still held me to the wall and pulled out his wand. I knew he was going to say an Unforgivable, but I still could not help myself from speaking.

"Justin never did anything to you, how could you do that to him just to get to me? You jealous fucking prat! And who are you to call me a sick disgusting faggot?! You've been up my ass so many times you might as well set up house in there! You're just angry because someone else is getting to touch what is no longer yours! You are a spoiled, jealous, little ferret and you deserve more pain than I could ever give you!" Crabbe and Goyle were staring at me in shock and Malfoy looked ready to spit fire.

"I don't know what you're talking about Weasel, but you're making me sick. Shut your fucking mouth!"

"Maybe I don't want to! Maybe I think it's time people found out! Maybe your precious minions and that slimy, albino excuse for a girlfriend you have to know the truth!"

"There is no truth, Weasel! I don't know what you're talking about! If you aren't going to shut up, I'll make you shut up!" His wand rose again and he opened his mouth to call out a curse, but was stopped by an 'Expelliarmus!' The wand flew back into an unseen hand, but the small crowd that had gathered around us parted and Professor McGonagall stepped up to Malfoy, his wand in her hand. Crabbe and Goyle immediately let me go.

"Mr. Malfoy, I am astonished at this act of cowardice! To have friends hold up a defenseless victim while you attack him! Fifty points from Slytherin and a month's detention! I'm very ashamed at your behavior and will be informing your Head of House."

"Professor! Weasely attacked me first! And it wasn't exactly pleasant, either, look at my face!"

Professor McGonagall looked at me and shook her head in shame, "Mr. Weasely, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I was provoked. He called me a sick, disgusting faggot. He deserved it, especially after what he's already done to Justin."

"But you admit to having attacked Mr. Malfoy?" She raised a disapproving eyebrow at me and I looked down to my hands, the knuckles split and bleeding in a few places.

"Yes. I hit him."

She shook her head at me and sighed, "Twenty points from Gryffindor and you'll be joining Mr. Malfoy in a week of his detention."

"Professor, that's hardly fair, he attacked me. Our punishments should be equal."

"Whether that is the case or not, which I highly doubt it is, my decision stands. Now, Mr. Malfoy, I suggest you head to the infirmary to have Madam Pomfrey look at your injuries. The rest of you, run along to dinner and don't start any more fights." She turned and led the crowd into the Great Hall. Crabbe and Goyle hesitated to follow but were gestured away by Malfoy, who had begun to nurse his bleeding nose while glaring at me. I stood still and starred at him.

"What are you playing at; telling people about what isn't their business? You knew the consequences of your actions when you began to see that filthy little Mudblood."

I sighed and shook my head, forcing myself not to spit in his face with disgust. "Just go get your nose fixed, Malfoy. You deserve more than you got. Cut your losses and walk away." I turned and left him there, still seething, my hands clenching and unclenching. But I had stopped shaking.

- September 2 - 2002 -

I was pleased to see Draco still in my bed and still sleeping when I woke up. He was sprawled out on his stomach with one arm draped across my stomach and his hair dreadfully mussed. For some reason, I had always thought his hair would be neat in the mornings. I kind of liked that I was wrong. I kissed his cheek and slid out from under his arm, pulling on some jogging pants before going to the kitchen for coffee. Harry was sitting at the table with a mug curled between his fingers, starring at the chess board he must have brought in from the living room.

"Did he leave you this as compensation for leaving you and breaking your heart again?" His voice was slightly bitter, but I tried to ignore it.

"No, he hasn't left. He said he wanted to be with me. He's left his wife. He's going to stay here."

"No, he isn't. You're my best friend, my adopted brother, and I'd do anything, including die, for you, but I will not live under the same roof as Draco Malfoy. You can be with him all you want and I'll try to hold my tongue, but I am not going to allow him to live here."

I sighed and settled into a chair across from him, sipping at my coffee. "Fine, he won't live here. But he can stay the night if I want him to? Once in a while?"

He eyed me and then the chess board, "Fine, if he must. But not every night."

"No, not every night." We stayed quiet, both looking at the board.

"He does have a taste for beautiful things, though. This is exquisite…" He brushed his fingers across a corner of the carvings, looking every bit as in awe of is as I was.

"Handmade in Italy, one of a kind; I picked the designs myself. It will never be recreated. The gentleman that made it died last December and was buried with every tool and drawing in his shop," Draco's voice floated into the room, followed quickly by him, wearing a pair of my pajamas pants and one of my favorite Chuddly Cannons' t-shirts. He pecked my lips as he slid into the chair to my right, "We really need to organize that room of yours, love. It's amazing you can find a pair of underwear, let alone an entire outfit."

"You managed to find something, I see. And fixed your hair." I grinned at him over my coffee.

"My hair? What was wrong with me hair?" He began to smooth it self-consciously, giving me a worried look.

"You just looked a bit a mess, is all."

He bristled, "Malfoy's are never 'a mess'. It goes against our very nature."

"You need to change your name then, 'cause you do a lot of things that go against the 'Malfoy nature'."

He relaxed some and dropped his hands, "Indeed." There was a bit of silence where I stood to pour him some coffee. I heard him mutter 'Potter' and turned to see them curtly nod at each other. It wasn't much, but it was something.