Disclaimer: I do not own any characters created by J.K. Rowling. I also do not share her homophobic views.

A/N: So ... it's been a while. Firstly, HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Secondly, working in retail sucks. I'm trying to find a better job, but for the last month or so, I've been on 11 hour shifts, sometimes longer, and getting home at 11pm.

Thirdly, on 30th December, I had to put my sweet fluff baby (cat), Oscar, to sleep. He'd been ill for about 2 months, but he got to the point he couldn't swallow and the vet said he wasn't likely to last much longer. So we made the difficult decision to end his suffering. He was just over 16 years old, he lived a good long life and was loved so much.

Anyway, I hope you can accept this chapter for what it is; a toil of love, grief, and just desperation to return to normalcy.

Chapter Forty-Eight

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~August~

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Harry turned sixteen on the 26th of July. However, that didn't mean that he suddenly turned into the stalker Draco remembered from sixth year. No, if anything, Draco barely recognised the young man before him as the same one he'd broken the nose of on the train. This Harry was still as brash and chatty as Draco remembered seeing him from across the crowded Great Hall during mealtimes, however now that it was up close and personal, he had to constantly remind himself how to breathe around the younger teen. With the heat wave came Harry's newfound nonchalance about exposing his body. Back at Hogwarts, the boy who lived never seemed to have time for such frivolous activities like swimming in the Black Lake, or sunbathing on the long, lazy weekends at the end of the year. Now, however, Draco found himself almost anxious to go to the bathroom first thing in the morning, on the off-chance he could 'accidentally' bump into a sleepy, shirtless Harry on his way to take a shower.

That first week that bled into August passed like a fever dream; with lessons officially over, Grimmauld place was once again filled with the constant noise of people coming and going. It made it trickier for he and Harry to sneak off into a shady alcove on one of the many floors of the house and steal a few kisses. Once Harry had even gotten bold and pressed Draco right up against the tiled wall of the bathroom, making the blonde yelp at the contact.

Harry also spent almost every night sprawled out in just his boxes across Draco's bed. He would creep in the moment he thought that Sirius and Remus had gone to sleep, slipping through the shadows like water until he slid up onto the cool sheets. Draco was usually reading or just relaxing in the dark when Harry came to him. He shivered whenever he felt Harry's fingertips skim over the fine hairs of his thighs and tried to not be embarrassed when such minute contact gave him an erection.

If Harry noticed it, he didn't make a comment. Mostly, because whenever they did get to lying on top of one another and gyrating with only the thin layers of cotton between them, Draco could feel that the green-eyed boy was just as aroused as he was.

Every morning when Harry managed to wake up at the crack of dawn to creep back to his own room, Draco would watch him slip away, his hammering heart sinking in his chest. He found himself praying, 'Look at me! Look back at me! Let this mean something to you too!' whenever Harry reached to turn the doorknob.

As if hearing the silent pleas, Harry would look back at him, his face softening into one of utter adoration, before he disappeared into the dark.

It wasn't all just physical, although Harry's newfound hormones were definitely at the forefront of the teens mind. They would spend hours in the evening, just talking. It was such a weird thing to suddenly cherish, but Draco had come to realise he truly hadn't talked to someone to freely before. By the sounds of it, neither had Harry. There had been so much unsaid, buried and locked away over the years that slowly, little threads of knowledge started to unravel by starlight. Draco liked being able to see the stars through the open window, Harry cradled against his chest, their legs tangled together. He liked that he could stroke his hands along the brunette's back, drawing circles on the mole at the base of Harry's spine. Draco never removed his thin vest whenever they slept together, and Harry didn't draw attention to it. To chuckle and jostle one another while entwined together was so intimate, with or without their kissing. When they did talk it was in low, soft whispers.

Draco found that it was easier to talk about things like his parents and extended family, the daunting trial and how Slytherin house greatly differed from what Harry described of his fellow Gryffindors. Harry, in turn, seemed to thrive on asking questions, some inane and some truly bizarre, but Draco answered as best he could.

Kissing Harry was greatly becoming his favourite pastime, however. They'd steal one while brushing their teeth, while playing with Teddy, a quick arse grab while cleaning up the cellar or helping prepare dinner.

If Sirius and Remus noticed anything, neither of them alluded to it. Though there was a gleam in Remus' eyes which made Draco's insides twist with embarrassment at not being as subtle as he'd liked.

As happy as Draco dared to let himself be in those fleeting moments between being awake and slipping into sleep, he knew that it was such a fragile, delicate thing. All it would take was one wrong move and it would crumble into dust.

~0~

Blinding sunlight pierced through the most beautiful dream he'd been having. With a heavy grunt Remus lurched up onto his elbows, scrunching his face up and holding a hand up to shield his face from the light.

"Merlin's fuck, Pads!"

Sirius grinned down at Remus and ruffled his disheveled hair. He was only dressed in a pair of boxers, the sunlight haloing his body as he knelt on the edge of their bed. Remus glared up at the older man, feeling the distinct urge to grab his hair and pull -and not in a kinky way this time.

"Come on, Moony, rise and shine! We have a full day all to ourselves!"

"Eurgh you're nauseating," Remus grunted, flopping back down on the pillows. "Can you go be happy somewhere else?"

"Sorry Moonshine the sun is up, and you need to be, too!"

"Moonshine?"

"Moonbeam?"

A grunt, "No."

"Okay," Sirius dashed for the door and almost pulled it off its hinges. "Breakfast will be ready in ten!"

Remus burrowed into his pillow and let out a long-suffering sigh, though he couldn't fight the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. It certainly was looking to be a relaxing day. Draco was busy keeping himself to himself, brewing in the cellar. Andromeda had Teddy and Harry had gone over to the Burrow for the day. He knew for a fact that, unless Harry was home, Draco warded himself in the cellar so that he didn't disturb anyone else, or for them to disturb him. Which meant that they were, for the most part, alone.

Stretching out like a starfish across the bed, Remus let out a sigh that shook his ribcage. He felt the heavy weight of his age tugging at his muscles, the residual ache from the full moon constantly draining him of both mental and physical energy. It really was a wonder Sirius was about to bounce around as much as he did, considering that neither of them were young men anymore. Still for Sirius to prance around in barely any clothes was very much like his teenage self; self-assured, confident and shameless, even if his svelte frame had filled out a little more, and if the taut muscles on his body were down to war-training and having been starved in Azkaban for years as opposed to relentless Quidditch practice and frolicking about in his animagus form.

Sitting up, he forced himself to crawl to the edge of the bed and plant his feet on the floor. Looking up through bleary eyes, he stared at his reflection in the mirrored door of the wardrobe. He didn't like what he saw. He never had, frankly, but now that he was getting older it was easier to pinpoint his flaws; his hair was obscenely threaded with grey, now, the crow's feet deepened whenever he smiled or yawned, his skin was pock-marked with silvery scars and bites and his body was all angles and taut, wiry muscles and tendons.

He'd never understood was Sirius had seen in him.

Lily had. Once she understood him, she'd seen the love there.

Remus clawed on a t-shirt that had been tossed to the side of the bed. He raked his hands through his hair and decided to follow Sirius down into the kitchen. The cold floorboards felt heavenly as the heat of the day pressed in on them from all sides. When he nudged open the kitchen door to see Sirius shimmying to and fro while making breakfast, he felt his gut twist. This is what they could have had over the last two decades. If there had been no Voldemort, no war and no losing their best friends, this could have been their life. Waking up on lazy days, cooking in their underwear, taking Harry on the weekends to give their friends a break. Grown-up dinner parties that would inevitably end because James and Sirius would have created some sort of prank to liven things up a bit.

He hated feeling melancholy.

Sensing that there was someone behind him, Sirius turned to look over his shoulder and flashed Remus a grin so radiant it was as though his chest had exploded. Taking two long strides across the kitchen, he grabbed Sirius' face in his hands and snogged him. Sirius was barely able to grunt before he was melting into the kiss, feeling himself be crowded back against the counter, Remus' strong thighs pressing hard between his own. They ravaged each other, pawing at one another and grunting and gasping with abandon as Remus poured every ounce of love he could into that kiss.

"I love you, Sirius," Remus gasped, nuzzling along the scratchy bristles along Sirius' jaw. "I love you. I love you; I know I don't -I'm not good with saying how I feel but fuck all of that." He pulled back and cupped Sirius' face in his jaw, startled grey eyes staring up into his. "I love you, Sirius Black. I never stopped."

His hands trailed down to Sirius' thighs and hoisted him up onto the counter, his mouth barely leaving Sirius' throat as he immersed himself in his lover's scent. Sirius snaked his hands everywhere, up the back of Remus' shirt, through his hair, around his waist, along his chest and up around his neck. It was like they'd been touch-starved until that very moment and wanted to make up for lost time. Their kisses became open-mouthed and rough, teeth grazing at the skin as they let their more primitive, primal desires flourish.

Finally breaking the kiss, Remus stared down at Sirius, his eyes hazed over with amber. "Want you," he growled low in his throat.

The sound reverberated through Sirius, making him croon at the sound. He let out a soft, canine-like whimper, arching his neck back invitingly.

Remus nosed at the scratchy skin, pressing Sirius back against the counter, licking a stripe up his throat.

"Fuck!" Sirius grunted, pressing their hips together. "Take me."

With a growl and reflexes quicker than normal, Remus had Sirius pinned down against the coffee table, and was mouthing hot, hungry kisses and bites up and down his torso. They pawed and clutched at one another, the August heat quickly making them pant and sticky with sweat. Their underwear was discarded on the cool floor. Remus was bowed over Sirius on the table, rutting shamelessly against his lover, the friction of their wet cocks sliding together was driving him wild. All he could think of was the wet heat, the rough scratch of hair on his skin, greedy hands, blunt teeth, and how there was no air to breathe, so he had to nose against Sirius, basking in his scent.

They were spiralling close to the edge, Remus thrusting his hips so fast that the table scuffed against the flagstones, barely heard above their grunting. "Fuck, Remus -Remus -I'm n-not gonna l-last …"

"Come for me," Remus growled, saliva frothing at the corner of his mouth. He quickened his pace, desperate to see the look of euphoria as he pushed Sirius over the edge. "Come for me, you sexy beast!"

Sirius barely had a chance to mouth Remus' name before his body arched off the table, his orgasm ripping through him like an electric current. The keening sounds escaping Sirius' mouth were so sexy, that Remus wanted to keep that moment in a constant loop, replaying the moment his lover climaxed over and over. Sirius reached up and gripped the back of his neck, thrusting their hips together though his cock was softening. Remus pulled up, clinging against Sirius as he continued to rut hard and dirty, Sirius; thighs splayed either side of his own.

He gripped Sirius' arse, forcing them tightly together, his hips faltering as he finally orgasmed, shooting over their stomachs, and convulsing against Sirius before his knees gave out.

Sirius grunted as his legs were released. He lay, half splayed on the table, chest heaving as the sunlight highlighted the contours of his body. "Gah, I'm too old for shagging on tables, now, Moons."

Remus snorted, though he cringed as his own legs quaked, sending him down heavily into the nearest chair. "You might be right about that."

Groaning even more, Sirius heaved himself up and sat, slouched on the edge of the table, his dark curls tumbling around his shoulders. He gave Remus a sideways smirk, "Honestly, I never thought I'd see the day that we could grow old together."

Cheeks still flushed; the lustful gold of Remus' eyes had mellowed into something more sincere. He reached out and threaded his fingers through Sirius', resting their joined hands on his bare thigh. "Neither did I," he gave a small smile. He rested his head on Sirius' thigh, pressing a chaste kiss to his cooling skin. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt Sirius' fingers combing through his hair.

"Hey now, Moony, let's not get comfy here, eh?" Sirius chuckled, "If you want to nap, let's go upstairs where we can nap and be naked. Besides, if I sit on here any longer, I'm going to get a square arse."

"I'd love your arse even if it was square," Remus grunted. He heaved himself upright anyway, adjusted his clothes and, once Sirius had slid off the table, cast Scourgify just to be on the safe side. "A nap does sound good though."

Sirius led Remus up to their bedroom and made short work of undressing them both. Remus padded around almost blindly as he slid under the soft, cotton sheets and exhaled as though the weight of the world had melted off his shoulders. Standing by the bedpost, Sirius watched him sleep for a few moments. The smile that came to his lips was unbidden and effortless. It was the smile that he only ever had when look at Remus. Twisting his hair up into a knot at the back of his head, Sirius slid under the cotton sheets, content to watch Remus until he felt himself fall asleep.

.

It couldn't have been more than a couple of hours later when Remus lurched awake to the sound of yelling. He lunged for his wand, only to focus in on the muffled noises and released a breath. It was only Draco and Harry. From the sounds of it, they were yelling downstairs. Slumping back onto the pillows, he let out a grunt. His muscles still ached, his hips protesting the most, and his mind still felt groggy.

Sirius stirred beside him, rolling over onto his side and hooking a leg over his own. "What's all the noise?"

"Your darling cousin and Harry seem to be arguing. I think. Might just be foreplay."

Sirius snorted without opening his eyes, "It's basically the same thing with those two."

There was the sound of something breaking.

Sirius jerked up a little, his head barely raised from Remus' chest. "The fuck are those boys doing?"

Remus shuffled up onto his elbows, "I only care if they knocked over the hideous China pot of your grandmothers."

Humming, Sirius shifted so that his chin was nestled on Remus' collarbone. He peered down at his lover and raised his eyebrows, "What about if they dropped the teapot from your grandmother?"

That spurred Remus to sit upright, rolling Sirius off him and jumping from the bed. "I'll shove their balls back up their bodies and rip them out through their chest!"

"Moony!" Sirius chased after him, shoving him into the banister to stop. "Stop!" he hissed in his ear.

Remus grunted, digging his elbow into Sirius' gut.

"Moons! Stop!" Sirius hugged his arms tightly around Remus' middle and pressed his forehead to his scarred shoulder. "I was teasing. I doubt they've wrecked your precious little teapot."

Remus was about to snark back, but the sounds of raised voices started up again. Sirius stared up at Remus as the werewolf strained his ears to hear the two boys rowing downstairs.

"Rem?"

"Hm?"

"Should we ... go and help them?"

"Nnnnno ..." Remus shook his head minutely. "Nah, they need to hash it out."

"Hmm," Sirius clicked his tongue, before combing his hair out of his eyes. "Tea?"

"Tea."

"Perfect. Kreacher!"

Pop!

"Master Sirius is calling for Kreacher?" the old elf warbled.

"Two cups of tea, please, Kreacher. One black, one with three sugars and milk."

"Right you are, Master Sirius," Kreacher disappeared with another pop!

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Harry was still reeling. He'd been in the bathroom, washing his face to get rid of the sweat when a wave of pressure rushed through his head. He'd braced himself against the sink to stop his knees from giving out on him. It got a harder to breathe. When he looked up at the mirror, he almost vomited as a flash of red eyes and slit nostrils rippled behind his eyelids. Wave after wave of pressure hit him, making his knees weaken beneath him. A tremor ran down his spine and the urge to be sick was almost over-whelming.

"Harry? Are you back? I have some ideas I wanted to run by you and Hermione. Harry, where are you?"

The sound of Draco's voice cut through him like a knife, as well as a balm.

"That bastard ..." he breathed, anger boiling up through him. Pushing himself away from the sink, he charged down the stairs towards Draco's voice. He thought he'd heard it from the direction of the kitchen but, upon seeing it empty, he hurried down the hallway towards the garden. "MALFOY? MALFOY!"

Draco spun around on the patio, his face breaking out into a smile and, for a moment, Harry faltered in his steps. The anger pushed him forwards and before he knew it he had wrestled Draco into the grass and was trying to twist the blonde so he could rub his face in the dry dirt.

"Get off me you git!" Draco choked out, kneeing Harry in the back to try and dislodge his weight. He blindly reached up and tried to dig his thumbs into any soft spot he could reach. Harry squirmed and tried his best to get away from the offending hands, while simultaneously messing Draco's hair. "Potter! Get. OFF!"

"NO!" Harry spat. "How could you do it? How could you do that to Dumbledore? To Rosmerta? And Ron! They're innocent people!"

Draco jerked his knee and managed to hit Harry's spine, sending the brunette into the dirt beside him. Draco kicked him in the side, his face red and covered in streaks of dirt and dust before hastily retreating and spitting into the grass. He tasted blood but he didn't feel any cuts or wobbly teeth. His chest felt tight as he breathed. "I -told you -t-this would happen ... I fucking told you!"

Harry groaned from where he was curled up in a ball. "How -h-how could you? How could you Draco?"

"I never killed Dumbledore! I ... you know I couldn't! I'M WEAK! I'VE ALWAYS BEEN WEAK!"

"I know!" Harry snarled, dragging himself to his knees. "I know you didn't kill him! I -I remember that," he levelled his furious gaze at the blonde towering over him. "I was there, Draco!"

Draco blinked, taking a small step back. His jaw tensed.

"But you let them in ..." Harry shook his head in disbelief. "How could you?"

"They had my parents hostage! What else could I do?!"

"Go for help! We were here, the whole order! We could have helped you!"

"What, to be used up like a pawn? I saw what that was doing to you, Harry! How was it any better than how I was being used?!"

"Because we would have helped you!"

"I went to Severus! He did all he could for me, but I was in too deep!" He could feel the tears and he just knew his eyes were red, raw around the edges. A stray tear raced down his cheek. He drew in a deep breath, trying to keep his voice from quaking. "Dumbledore agreed tot his plan. Whatever you think you know about him, Harry, he was dying. I ... I was so scared ..."

"Argh!" Harry thumped his fist into the ground. "I KNOW THAT! I KNOW ALL OF IT! But the nightmares and the memories ... they're ... they're ..."

A choked sob broke from his throat.

Draco continued to glare down as Harry keeled over, clawing his hands through his black hair and pressing his face into the grass. More sobs started to break through, and pretty soon he watched as Harry's prone body convulsed over and over. His cries keened out into the still, summer air, and it squeezed at Draco's insides. He was pissed, fucking fuming, and he wanted nothing more than to beat the absolute shit out of Harry. However, he knew what the nightmares were like. He knew all about waking up in an icy sweat, unable to breathe and scrambling for anything warm, soft and comforting. He knew the fear and horror at finding nothing of comfort.

He turned away to stare out across the garden. He needed to tamper the anger down. He focused on his breathing and flexed his muscles.

As the red haze of anger drifted away, Harry's sobs cut through.

Shaking his head, he turned to look at Harry. He hesitated before slowly crossing the distance, advancing cautiously incase Harry erupted in anger again. Slowly, he crouched down beside Harry, watching numbly at the barely visible face that was red, blotchy and damp with tears. He splayed his palm on the hunch of Harry's back and just rested it there, letting him know that he wasn't alone.

The sobs started to quieten down a little.

Adjusting himself to sit cross-legged, Draco gently coaxed Harry over to rest in his lap. He felt numb, his jaw smarting a little. Harry was still crying but at least the heavy sobs had subsided. They sat there, Draco rubbing slow circles against Harry's muscles until he quietened down entirely.

Shifting out of the blonde's lap, Harry adjusted himself to sitting against Draco's chest, his head resting at an awkward angle in the crook of his neck. "I'm sorry ..." his voice was thick and wet. "I -I shouldn't let my a-anger ... go off like that ..."

"Hmm."

Draco's flinched at the touch of fingertips ghosting over his exposed collar. His t-shirt was a v-neck, a little lower than he was used to wearing. That wasn't what the issue was. His breath hitched purely because Harry was tracing the spidery thin lines of his curse scars. Ordinarily he would have pulled Harry's hand away, but he suddenly had zero energy to even lift his arm.

"I caused these," Harry's broken voice whispered. "I'm so sorry ..."

Draco sighed softly, pulling Harry's hand away and slowly lowering their hands to his lap. He linked their fingers together and stroked his thumb along Harry's scuffed knuckles. "I forgive you," he breathed.

"I still hate what you did," Harry stated, looking up at the blonde. "I don't think I can ever forget what you did."

"I know."

"It was truly ... horrendous."

"I know."

Harry awkwardly looped his arms around Draco's waist and burrowed a little closer. "I'm sorry you were alone," Harry breathed, his lips brushing against Draco's skin. "I wish I was better. I wish I could have seen past all the bullshit and offered you help. H-Hermione ... she saw ... she tried to mention you were off ... but we fobbed her off! I ... I t-thought you wanted all that ... I didn't even think to question it!"

Draco closed his eyes and drew in another calming breath. "It's in the past, Harry. You have to understand that I was a shit person. I truly wanted to believed in all that stuff, because I thought it would make things easier? Or maybe make my dad respect me?" He tipped his head to one side, Harry's messy hair tickling his cheek. "It wasn't until ... that night a-at the astronomy tower ... that's when it really hit me. I wasn't like my aunt, or my father or Merlin forbid, the Dark Lord himself. I just ... I felt trapped ..."

Harry remained quiet, absorbing the words.

Draco's heart felt heavy and he honestly didn't know where they were supposed to go from here. Harry was fuming, and he understood that. Did that mean ... they were about to lose everything they'd built up over the last year? Fuck, he didn't think he could handle that.

"Draco?"

He flinched. "Y-yes?"

"Um ... c-can I ... stay in your room tonight?"

Draco froze. His mind went racing far too quickly for him to pinpoint any singular thought other than Harry didn't hate him. Harry didn't hate him? Instead of the riotous joy he was supposed to be feeling, he was struck by such a horrible, confusing feeling that spiraled through the numbness. He couldn't wrap his brain around the concept that Harry was still tucked into his side. That he wanted to spend the entire night curled up in bed with him.

His stomach flipped at the idea of waking up with a nightmare, only to feel Harry's warm, secure arms cradle him from behind, coaxing him back down onto the pillows and maybe even show him how to work the floating orbs, so that he could drift back to sleep. He still hadn't found out how to work those damned things.

He was suddenly very aware that he hadn't said anything in what felt like ages. How long had they been out there anywhere? At least it was somewhat overcast today, meaning a lot less risk of sunburn. He didn't need to experience that again.

Harry lifted his head, bringing Draco back to reality. "I don't have to stay," he hedged. "I mean, I get it. I just launched myself at you. Yeah, why would you want me to stay?" Leaning away from Draco, he scrambled to his feet and dusted off as much of the dirt as possible. His hair was still a mess, this time with grass and dandelion fluff caught in it, making it look like a literal bush.

"Harry," Draco spoke quietly, although he was rather pleased that Harry stopped in his tracks towards the patio. "You can stay in my room tonight ... if you want."

Harry turned to look at him, the little blush ghosting over his softly-tanned cheeks. "A-are you sure? After ... that?" he gestured lamely at the grass where they'd tussled.

Draco nodded before mirroring the brunette and getting to his feet. "Like you said, I think we needed to get it out."

"I guess ..."

"Come on," Draco gestured for Harry to follow him up into the house. "Let's go to the cellar."

"Uh why?"

"To put some salve on those hands of yours."

Harry watched him disappear into the house, staring dumbly, as he finally felt the grazed skin over his hands sting a little. He still felt uneasy with all the emotions swirling around inside him. He was angry at what had happened, of course he was, but he knew they had won the war. He'd lost friends and loved ones, he knew that. The echo of Sirius' death still tickled at his mind throughout his nightmares. However, the way Draco had smiled when he'd first seen him -before the punching -that had ... He'd looked so youthful, so happy. As though being stuck up in a house for over a year with your school nemesis wasn't as bad as expected. Almost like he was happy. Was Draco happy? Or at least, as close to happy as his circumstances would allow?

The notion gave Harry a bead of hope. They would get passed all this, right? Draco did change sides, otherwise why would he, himself, have written the letter for Draco's trial?

Pressing his lips to fight against his smile, Harry trailed into the shade of Grimmauld place in search of Draco. He hoped that the nightmares and memories would leave him alone for the rest of the afternoon. He just wanted to enjoy their moments together.

.

Upstairs, sitting with their backs against the bedroom door, Remus readjusted himself so that he didn't have his ear pressed to the wood. "Well, you were right. They just needed to vent a little bit."

"I told you," Sirius grinned. "Remember how could you felt hitting me after fifth year."

"Hmm," Remus tried never to think of that year, if he was honest with himself. He winced a little, "Oh, Merlin. Teddy is in the living room. He wants to watch Winnie the Pooh again."

"Alright, Moons. Let's go down to our boys," Sirius grunted, as he shifted into a more upright position. "I think my arse had gone flat from sitting on the floor anyway."

"I'd still love it," he grinned cheekily. "Anyway, Teddy can wait a minute. I want to finish my tea."

Sirius rolled his eyes, raising his teacup from the floorboards. "Cheers to that, Mr. Lupin."

Remus raised his own teacup with a smile and clinked it against Sirius'.

A/N: Please leave some lovely reviews! I hope you liked the update!