Disclaimer: Not mine all characters of the HP universe belong to JK Rowling and the other licensed holders of the copyright.

A/N: This chapter is a little longer than the last but not much, this isn't going to be a particularly long fic. Review please it'll make me feel lurved! And speaking of lurve...this is story is SLASH! The Back button is a beautiful thing for the underaged or the narrow-minded.

2.

Harry'd been struck particularly hard by her words and the Potions Master's admonishment. He spent the rest of the Christmas hols by Draco's bedside caring for him as penance. He'd been even more reluctant to return to school at the end of the holiday, but as had happened at the beginning of the school year Molly and Remus convinced him that his departed mentor would have wanted him to finish his education before joining the war effort in earnest.

He'd returned to school though his schedule was busier than ever as he juggled classes, researched Horcruxes, trained physically and magically for the war, and much to Ron's dismay, often visiting Draco through his long recovery. He'd found by the time of graduation he sorely missed his new friend. The last two months of the term had been hellishly busy and he'd been unable to take time out of his hectic schedule for even one visit to Grimmauld Place.

It was a well prepared, wary and yet relieved group of graduates that moved into the Order Headquarters after leaving Hogwarts. Most of the younger members had elected to live in the rooms of the upper floors hoping that between missions and training they'd have time to clean and put the house in better order, They were amazed to arrive to a fully restored mansion — gleaming clean, tastefully and comfortably decorated and beautifully appointed with an eclectic mix of elegant and casual furniture, rich fabrics and soft carpets. A blushing Draco was pushed forward by Molly Weasley to accept acknowledgement, but the blond merely hung his head mumbled something about having money to burn and house elves still allied to the Malfoy family eager to be kept busy and that he'd hoped the liberties he'd taken would be considered a graduation gift, then slipped away from the bubbling and enthusiastic crowd eagerly making their way through now cheery house cataloguing all the differences.

Over the summer months they continued to mobilise allies and deploy Order members for missions to far-off locations to scout Voldemort's forces and hunt down the Horcruxes. Somewhere during it all to the surprise of many besides Hermione, Poppy Pomfrey and Molly Weasley, a tentative friendship grew into an abiding love and the soft-spoken quietly confident Draco and brazen contemplative Harry became nearly inseparable. The former Death Eater in-training and the 'Saviour of Wizarding Britain,' were an incredible team in the field and Draco proved himself over and over again as both a capable strategist and determined fighter.

Eventually over long chats and private walks Draco approached those he'd wronged as a boy and made peace. He and Hermione had even developed a strong and loving relationship, though she'd never confide to Ron the depth of feeling she carried for their one time nemesis. Ron would probably never know that it had been Draco who'd arranged for their lavish private wedding that Spring or that the house near the Burrow waiting to be occupied at the end of the war was his wedding gift to his "sister."

It pained her to keep such secrets from her husband, but knowing Ron's feelings toward him Draco had sworn her to silence about their relationship or any gift he might bestow on them. "I do it for you Mione. You have given me friendship and true family. Ron never needs to know. I don't want to hurt his pride. All I do I do for love of you, because the only thing money is good for is to make the lives of those we love better. If there's any little thing I can do with what I own then I do it gladly if it brings you happiness."

Besides Harry and Ron, Draco was her best friend. He was the one she went to when she and Ron had the occasional tiff, the one who pulled her out of her books and worry to have fun now and again. Yes there was a war going on but Draco refused to let terror dominate her life. He was always telling her to keep her faith and hope alive and to live each day to the fullest. During lulls it was Draco who whisked her away to Paris for an afternoon of shopping so that for a few hours she could remember that she was still a young woman in the prime of life. He balanced her bookishness and made sure that her plans and strategies were accessible not condescending. He'd changed himself and he'd changed her—for the better. Now he was hurting and she didn't know how to help.

He'd brushed off her queries, but she knew he was just making excuses. There was something very wrong with her friend. He'd been sullen and withdrawn since Harry, Moody and Remus left to hunt down the last Horcrux. He'd wanted to go as well but that idea had been shot down by Harry and Remus both. The Order needed some of their best people to stay and continue the resistance effort while they were away. And by all accounts they'd be gone for months. Already it had been 7 months and news from Harry's team was sporadic at best. Draco had pouted a bit at first then dug in and worked like a madman to anticipate attacks, coordinate with Ministry officials and local defence units throughout Britain, deploy teams to aid in the fight against Death Eaters and Voldemort's strike teams, and to rebuild areas devastated by earlier assaults. He'd run himself ragged for 3 or 4 months until one evening he'd just collapsed in the middle of the large salon where Order meetings were held.

He'd been pale and quiet when he was released from the infirmary but he wouldn't talk to Hermione about what was wrong saying that he'd been admonished not to push himself to the limit and take things easier now and then. He'd rested for a few days then returned to work though this time he wasn't a frenetic whirlwind though he still worked very hard.

Ron's hand on her arm pulled her out of her musings but as she and Ron entered their rooms a silent figure slipped from the shadows of the hall and sighed. Hermione was like a starving dog with a bone when something was puzzling her. As he climbed the stairs to his own floor he realised it wouldn't be long before she'd corner him and force the truth from him. He just hoped there was enough time…

Hermione was frustrated. It'd been two weeks since she'd voiced her concerns to Ron and in that time she'd not had a single moment alone with Draco. Once again he was bustling about Grimmauld place like hellhounds were on his heels. At least though they'd received some good news, an owl had come that morning with a message saying Harry, Moody and Remus would return later that evening. For the first time in months there was a sense of tangible hope and joy at the kitchen table. Draco's happiness was such that the whole of the Order shared in his brightness. In the face of such joy Hermione noticed that her friend really hadn't been at all happy in Harry's absence, he'd been playing at being alright, but now she could see the dark circles, the translucency of his skin and the weight that he'd lost. He looked sickly despite his excitement and she wondered how she'd missed how ill her friend had become.

Late that afternoon she finally cornered him in the library. She locked the door behind her and cast a silencing ward. "Draco?"

The young man in question raised his head. He'd obviously fallen asleep looking through the ancient tome set at the large table. He smiled weakly at his friend, "Mione, Luv, what can I do for you? Are you alright?"

She made her way over to the table and carded her fingers through the platinum blonde locks that now fell to the centre of his back, "You can tell me what's wrong sweetie. You've been hiding something and I want to know what it is."

Draco relaxed into her hands, it was no secret that he loved the feel of hands in his hair, though Harry's hands were best and most welcome. He sighed, "I won't lie to you and say there's nothing wrong, but I can't say anything until I've spoken with Harry alright?"

She came around his shoulder and looked down into earnest sterling eyes, "Promise me you'll tell me once you've talked to Harry."

He smiled though it didn't reach his eyes, "I promise. You and I will talk once I've spoken to Harry."

Satisfied for the time being she bussed his cheek left the library and returned to the planning room the Order set up on the first floor. There was much to be done as once Harry's team returned they'd planned on striking at Voldemort's stronghold and ending the war once and for all.

Wearied warriors did return that evening, the final Horcrux had been destroyed and plans were in full swing to attack the stronghold at Riddle Manor. Everything was happening so quickly. Everyone was energised by the thought of bringing the war to an end and Grimmauld Place was a hive of activity. For the next several days no one slept catching naps here and there when they could. Assault teams were organised, strategy was reviewed. They'd given themselves three days from Harry's return to destroy the stronghold. Time enough to mobilise their forces without giving Voldemort too much time to bolster his defences. They would be victorious.

Though the mad rush Harry was a paragon of strength and leadership, the Order and Ministry Aurors were awed by his charisma, his dedication and his seemingly boundless energy. All took their cues from the young man who'd become their leader when Dumbledore fell.

There was little time though for personal intimacies. Draco saw Harry only twice in all this time, each for only a few minutes. His lover had kissed him hello when they'd arrived and once on his way through the kitchen they'd kissed fervently and promised to make time for one another as soon as possible. That time did not come before it was time to leave for what would hopefully be the final assault.

Tbc…