Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters and objects. They belong to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Inc., Warner Bros, and other licensed copyright holders. I also don't own the rights to any musical piece named in this fic, including the folk song "Come to You Again" (which is public domain, by the way). The plot, any original items, characters, spells, composition titles, etc. are mine, however. Yup, mine, mine, mine, so there…hah!

A/N: Okay…things to be aware of 1) this is H/D SLASH rated M, so not for the kiddies, though at this point it's nothing too racy 2) This chapter will introduce some OCs. I want to stress now that this is not a Mary-Sue fic, but since this fic is AU, not having anyone to interact with would make things rather dull for Draco 3) Still on the OCs…Callie, who you'll be meeting this chapter, has a bit of a potty-mouth, so frequent use of expletives should be expected. 4) This is unbeta'd so be patient with my errors. I am no grammarian, though thanks to skbar, I am paying more attention to comma usage. 5) My apologies for not responding as quickly or individually to responses as I sometimes do, but 'puter's being all wonky lately. 6) THANK YOU! to all those who've reviewed already. You all make me feel so special…I love that! So uh…this is my shameless plea to please continue reviewing!

That said…on with the show…

2.

He blinked as he opened his eyes, the early dawn filtered into his window steadily. He stretched, wiped the sleep from his eyes, then flipped a switch to lower some grab bars over his head. He ran through some easy exercises, and when he finished, he used the bars to get to his chair, then retracted the bars, and wheeled himself across the room. Another set of bars helped get him to the low platform where he did his daily exercises. He went through the usual routine, massaging his thighs, flexing and relaxing the muscles there, then worked his way through muscle groups up his body until even his face was relaxed.

He knew he was fortunate. muggle science wouldn't have been able to repair much of the curse damage, he would have been paralysed from mid-chest down and probably would have been on a ventilator. Magic restored all but the feeling from just above his knees down. He went through the rest of his routine--mostly strengthening exercises, and ones to keep him limber, pulled himself into his chair, and headed for his bathroom. He smirked, remembering the uproar when he'd claimed the master suite…sure, the room was huge, but it was also the most accessible bedroom in the house. There was a sleeping area with his four poster bed, his bed side tables and the small shelving unit that held his current pleasure reading. He'd decided against bed curtains for safety reasons, though he sometimes missed being able to shut the world out and secrete himself in the soft, warm, dark of a bed's hiding place.

The exercise area was the raised platform, a weight bench, and the exercise machine where he did his afternoon workout after his visits with his physical therapist. It had amused him to no end when they'd hosted their first barbeque the summer after they'd moved in and Cele got a look as his body as he slipped into the pool. He'd blushed at the fuss she'd made and the catcalls that followed from nearly everyone else. He supposed he looked okay, but how he looked didn't really matter to him anymore. Malfoy vanity was an act he'd dropped during the war. Besides, what was important was keeping his body healthy because he didn't want being in a chair to limit his ability to enjoy life. He'd wanted people to see him as more than just a bloke in a wheelchair. To do the things he wanted, like play basketball at the Rec centre in town, or get around their sprawling campus quickly, he needed to be fit.

His study area held a desk and shelves where he did his schoolwork, and a small curtained alcove where he kept a second-hand spinet, his guitar and violin and a couple of music stands. The alcove was centred around a large bay window with a view of the garden patch in the backyard, and a comfy bench because he found he wrote well there. And when he needed to, the heavy tapestry curtains made it so he could hide out sometimes.

It was his dressing area and lounge that had sparked the rumblings amongst his housemates. The extended vanity and long low dressers were very simple, but elegant, and the height made it easy for him to get to his clothes without any awkward stretching. The walk-in closet was what got Cele going…granted it was bigger than what he needed, but he liked being able to turn around in it, and again the bars were hung a much lower than standard height so he could reach them easily. He was pretty sure she'd been jonesing over the motorised shoe rack mounted above the clothes though...it would be a fun accessory for her, but he found it made storing his shoes out of the way much easier. He just held the rotation button until the cubby with the right shoes was over the "elevator" platform hit the down button and 'voila!' his shoes were delivered.

The lounge was his comfort zone--the small leather sofa and matching club chairs faced the small fireplace where he'd bring his friends in for late night chats sometimes. Occasionally, he considered having it hooked up to the Floo network, but he talked himself out of that decision every time.

The bathroom was what had really gotten to his housemates. It was the tub…if he'd been smart he would've made sure each of the 3 full bathrooms had a spa tub. One of the others did though, so maybe it was just that he didn't have to share his with anyone else. Personally, his favourite was the shower, it was easy to get into, everything was placed at the right height, and there were shower heads on opposing walls so getting clean was a pretty blissful experience.

Since he'd had his morning stretch, he sorted his daywear and set out what he needed, then went in for a good clean. When he'd finally pulled himself away from the shower he dressed, ran a comb through his near-waist length hair, and headed for the kitchen where the other early riser would be making an appearance soon.

He started coffee, grabbed a muffin and waited for Callie. He drank his coffee, ate his muffin, and waited for Callie. He poured another mug, fiddled with the plate of muffins, and waited for Callie. When he started hearing his other housemates getting ready for the day he got antsy. Even when she was sick, Callie got up to join him for coffee or tea by 7. Worried, Draco wheeled down the hallway to the room she shared with Cele, and knocked on the door.

"Callie? Callie, querrida, are you awake?" He knocked again and waited, worry mounting, then heaved a sigh of relief when his rumpled housemate poked her head out.

"Draco--what are you doing up at this god forsaken hour?"

He frowned. "You weren't at breakfast." He said matter-of-factly, then smiled at Callie's infamous 'scrunchie thinking face.'

"Breakfast? Is it that late already? Whatimeizit?"

He looked at his watch, "quarter to eight."

Her eyes popped open, "Shit! I'm gonna be late!" The feisty Chicana whirled around and shut the door on him, but just as he'd turned to head back to his room the door swung open again.

"Shit, Draco, where are our brains? It's Saturday. No class. But are you okay?"

He frowned at her again, "What do you mean, 'am I okay?'"

She leaned over and brushed a loose lock from his face examining him closely. "You passed out sweetie. Do you remember? Fuck, I knew we should've taken you to the hospital, but Jonathan was sure you'd be fine."

It all came crashing back then--his recital, being tired after the piano pieces, Cele's perfectly heart-rending performance, and leaving the stage and running into Hermione Granger. Suddenly it was very hard to breathe, and his vision started going spotty. He snapped out of it to find Callie shaking him, and Cele kneeling by his side.

"Fuck! Draco, don't do that! What the hell is that? You scared the shit out of me again!" Callie hollered. "That was even worse than last night. Then, you just passed out; you didn't do the whole panic attack, not breathing shit!"

He looked up and found his friend was shaking, worry and fear written all over her face. He pulled her down for a hug, "Sorry. Sorry honey. I didn't mean to scare you. Umm-I saw someone last night. Someone I never thought I'd see again, and it kind of shocked me I guess."

He let her loose and clasped Cele's hand, "I guess I--kind of blanked out last night's memories, and it all just came back to me just now. It was a little overwhelming." He looked at the girls and realised they were both in just their night gowns, and smiled, "Why don't you two throw on your robes and have some breakfast, and tell me what happened okay?"

The girlfriends looked to each other in silent communication and Cele nodded, "Give us 5 minutes, Dray."

Closer to fifteen minutes later, the couple slid into the diner-booth style breakfast nook, and poured themselves mugs of hot coffee. Draco noticed with a smile, that Cele had changed into a bright red button-up and blue jeans with multicoloured patches all over. And of course, her hair was done. Callie, on the other hand, was only marginally less rumpled than she'd been before, her curly dark hair hastily pulled up in a loose and messy bun. Well at least he knew what had taken so long.

"Okay spill, what happened last night?"

Cele looked at him worriedly, "What exactly do you remember? We'll fill you in from there."

"I remember everything until I left the stage that last time, then it's a blur, and I guess I passed out."

Callie nodded, "There was a woman at the edge of the ramp, and when you saw her you said something, and then you were gone." She shook her head, clearing away her remembered fear. "She said she was a doctor, so she checked you over said something about you being in shock, to keep you warm and let you sleep it off. Jonathan and Paul wheeled you out, and brought you home. Bree, Cele, Michael and I stayed to schmooze with your adoring public, and answer questions, and generally smooth things over with Johansen, who by the way, is absolutely furious."

Draco dropped his head on the table, "Bloody hell. How bad is it?"

Cele shook her head, "It's bad Dray, evidently a couple of really important people wanted to speak to you after the recital, and he'd already promised them a private audience with you during dinner. When he found out you'd left he nearly blew a fuse. I swear that twitching vein in his forehead looked like it was about to come out of his skin. You may have some serious ass-kissing to do today."

Draco groaned, "He never said anything about a dinner. And why couldn't he have taken one of you to meet the big wigs?"

Callie looked at Cele and smiled. When neither responded, Draco raised his head, "Okay what happened 'cause you both look like the cat that ate the canary."

Callie nodded at her girlfriend. "Well…" Cele started, "We couldn't go be liaisons with your big wigs, because we had a big wig of our own to deal with…"

Draco's face lit up, "Who? What happened? I'm dying of suspense here!"

Callie grinned, "Cele's been offered a position with the Philadelphia Opera Company after graduation. Well…it's contingent, but it doesn't matter. They're sending a couple of people back for her senior recital in May, but they were quote very impressed with her range and ability to convey depth and emotional complexity so powerfully end-quote."

Draco threw back his head and pumped his fist, "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! This is so what we've been waiting for! Congratulations baby-girl!" He felt like his face was going to split in half, he was smiling so widely.

Cele actually blushed and Draco was taken aback, he didn't think he'd ever seen the young woman blush before. But she was, and even looking down at the mug with a small secret smile, "Thanks Draco, but you know it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't written such a kick-ass piece then tailored it for me."

He looked up at her, eyebrow raised. "Don't give me that look, Draco Malfoy. You know exactly what you did. You knew you were making me the showpiece of your recital and I know damn well that you only write in Italian as a last resort and we both know my French pronunciation needs work, but my Italian is supreme. You-you--"

Draco grew alarmed as Cele's eyes filled with tears, "You made me a chance because no one in the Voice Department has been willing to give me one." She sniffed and wiped her eyes, "and you believed in me enough to trust that awesome piece to my voice..." A little embarrassed by the emotional display, Cele hid her face in her hands while Callie picked up.

"The reception was pretty amazing and a little overwhelming for her Dray. I mean suddenly everybody wanted to talk to her, wanted to know her primary teacher in the Voice Department, how long she's been singing, yadda yadda. People who haven't given her the time of day since we got here were suddenly trying to be her best friend. And Maxwell, that pompous, racist, overgrown wart of a woman, was suddenly gushing about how 'talented' Cele is, and how the Voice Department is 'just so proud' of her. She trailed us the whole reception trying to get a word in when people came to talk to Cele. It was pretty disgusting."

Cele shook her head, "Enough about the Voice department's evil primabitch and bane of my existence okay?" She patted her girlfriend's arm, "Back to you. We really tried to keep it together, and we were able to answer a couple of questions people asked about your stuff Dray, but we were all really worried. And that woman and her friends stayed the whole time, and when things wound down they wanted to know--"

Bree stuck her head into the kitchen, brash red curls that had always reminded Draco of the Weasley clan, stuck out in every direction, "Mojo, those people from last night are here for you. I just stuck 'em in the living room 'kay? And keep it down, some of us are sleeping in today." Still grumbling, she disappeared as quickly as she'd come. Bree was notoriously not a morning person.

Draco gasped. People. Hermione wasn't alone. What did that mean? Who was with her? Draco felt light-headed and the spots were coming again.

This time it was Cele shaking him that brought him back to the present, a fierce scowl on her face, "I'm not sure I want you seeing those people, Draco. Every time we've mentioned them you get all pale--well paler, which is not good for an already lily-white boy like yourself, 'cause you look nearly translucent, and nearly pass out. Do you want me to send them away?"

Draco shook his head. "No. No I'll see them," he soothed weakly. "You said they stayed for the reception. Did they talk to you?"

Callie nodded, "The woman, Hermione--I think her name was, said she was an old friend of yours from school. They didn't have a place to stay set up, so we invited them to stay with us. We put a few in the guestroom over the garage, and a couple in the guesthouse. Was that alright? They all seemed nice enough. We had already guessed maybe you'd gone into shock because it'd been so long since you've seen them. I mean you never go home, Draco, and you never talk about your family, or your life in England so we thought it might be good for you to see them."

Draco waved off her concern, "How many people did Mione have with her?"

"It was her, two older men, one who looked like an extra from some vampire movie and another who looked like he's been carrying the weight of the world for too long, two young guys, about our age, and another woman, also about our age who--not to judge or anything Draco, but she looks like a pug…"

Draco laughed, "Pansy Parkinson, and don't worry you're not the first to make that comparison and I doubt you'll be the last."

Callie snickered, "Well hopefully there was enough room for everybody. But the body language screamed couples, so my guess is that everyone had a bed. I don't know.

Anyway, if you're going to talk to them you should go. It's rude to keep them waiting."

Cele agreed, "It is rude to keep them out there too long. But do you want us to come with you?"

He shook his head, "I'll be alright. I think they'll stay tonight too so why don't you let everyone know we're still on for the recital celebration dinner at Eva's, and I'll do introductions then." He pulled back from the table then noted the worried looks and smiled at these women he'd come to love as sisters, "Don't worry. I'll be fine. And congrats again, sunshine. You did really well last night. I was so proud of you."

Cele blushed again and waved him off, "Thanks Dray, now go make nice with the foreigners before they start thinking all Americans are like 'morning Bree'."

Draco shuddered dramatically then headed to the living room. He wheeled in smiling, though he was nervous as hell, "Good morning everyo--"

His face fell. When Callie said his visitors were all couples and there were two men, he'd assumed she'd meant Ron Weasley and Blaise Zabini, thinking that Blaise and Pansy had finally gotten together. Never in a million years did he imagine…He looked up into the startling green eyes that haunted his dreams, and on bad days, his waking hours too. Once again he passed out.

He was dreaming and he didn't want to wake up. His face was gently caressed by familiar calloused fingers and warm sweet breath tickled his cheek. The air around him smelled of Harry and for a while he was truly complete. From bitter experience though, he knew when he opened his eyes the illusion would be broken and he would once again be alone. Steeling himself for the ache that had become second nature, Draco opened his eyes and gasped as he found himself trapped by the emerald gaze he dreamed of nightly. He reached up, pulled Harry down and kissed him. This was the best dream he'd had in a long time. It was so real he could even taste his one-time lover. That sweet spiciness that was all his own and called to something deep and primal in Draco. When the composer broke the kiss, he caressed his lover's face, and smiled at the other man's chuckling, "This is my dream. You're not supposed to laugh at me in my dreams, Harry."

"It's no dream Sleeping Beauty! Now get up before I have to endure another interrogation by those screeching harpies you call flatmates!" snapped an edgy, familiar voice from the end of his bed.

Draco shot up, eyes wide, and took in the scene. Severus Snape was indeed sitting at the foot of his bed, tightly gripping Remus Lupin's hand between his own. Hermione and Ron sat to his left. Pansy was to his right and beside him…beside him… "Harry?"

The man in question scooted closer and drew Draco into his arms, "your one and only, Dragon." He tucked a stray lock behind Draco's ear and kissed his temple.

"We've been so worried Draco. This is the second time you've passed out and your friends said you had two panic attacks this morning. We knew seeing us would be a shock but we didn't think it would be this bad," Hermione said, gently taking his hand and checking his pulse.

"Well, if you're shocked, Draco, it serves you right after the scare you gave us all. Disappearing like that. We were scared--er, concerned that you might have been taken by the remaining Death Eaters. We searched everywhere for you." The Potions Master grumped.

Confusion furrowed the blond's brow, "Why?"

"Why what you stupid ferret! Why were we all scared to death, despite what the greasy git said? Why were we searching everywhere for you? Why we were so worried that we never heard from you after we figured out that you'd gone into the muggle world all alone? Why were we all so relieved when Mione goiggled your name on the interknit and came across some newspaper articles about you so we finally knew where you were? Why did she fellytone the school last week?"

With a sheepish shrug, Ron paused, "Actually…I don't know why she did that, but that doesn't matter. WHY did we all apparate in last night to see you and hear the most beautiful music I've ever heard in my life? Oh, I don't know you arse, maybe because we LOVE you!" A teary eyed Ron flushed, which clashed terribly with his hair, then added, "Oh, and 'cause living with a pining, lovesick Harry is no lap 'round the pitch." He sniffed and tried not to draw further attention to himself as he wiped his face on his sleeve.

Draco blinked at the increasingly loud Weasley tirade, then swung his head round as someone pounded on his door. The voice was muffled--he'd had all the bedrooms soundproofed during the renovation--but from the tone he guessed it was an irate Cele. "Open Caraway," he called out and the electronic voice sensitive locking mechanism slid back. A moment later the door flew open and his plump, soundly curvaceous roommate stormed in, surveyed the scene, and tossed Ron nearly across the room. "WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! COMING INTO OUR HOUSE AND YELLING AT MY FRIEND!" She turned to Draco, who was still somewhat shocked that she'd managed to toss Ron so far, and pushed Hermione out of the way. "Are you alright Dray? I've been so worried. Do you want these people to leave? Should I call the police?"

Draco smiled, "Yes. No. No. I'm fine, Cele. And Ron, who you so…efficiently displaced just now, was just um-venting a little frustration." His eyes grew sad and she stroked his hand, "I-I didn't tell anyone when I left for the States. I kind of just disappeared, and I guess--well…they've been worried."

Warm velvet brown eyes glinted something fierce, "I understand then. Let me tell you right now Draco Malfoy. You pull something like that on me and I will kick your scrawny ass from here to Tanzania. You got me?"

He pulled himself sitting and chuckled, "Yes, sunshine. No more disappearing acts."

She stared at him for a few moments and finally found the reassurance she'd been looking for. She nodded, then tossed her head toward the end of the bed. "I'll leave you to catch up then. 'Cause I'm sure there are some people in here who'd like a little privacy while they rip you a new asshole. I'm going to call Eva's and add 6 to our reservation for tonight okay?"

Draco nodded. She dropped a gentle kiss on his lips and sashayed from the room closing the door behind her. Draco cleared his throat and tried unsuccessfully to smother his grin at the shocked faces around the room, "Ahem. I take it Sev that Cele, who has a bit of…flair for the dramatic, was one of the--uh 'screeching harpies' you mentioned earlier."

His godfather scowled, "Yes…and 'Open Caraway' Draconis?"

He blushed, "It's a voice activated electronic lock." He looked into mostly blank faces, "muggle technology that locks and unlocks things by vocal command. I tend to lock my door when I'm alone in here and it makes things easier when someone comes by and wants to see me. Or if I fall and can't get back to my chair I can call for help and unlock the door. Open Caraway is just my unlocking code. I thought it was sort of funny…you know from that muggle story Arabian Nights, the password to the thieves' hideaway is 'open sesame'…anyway, I hate sesame seeds. I have other codes for emergencies though."

He noticed the blanched faces and added quickly, "Don't worry, it's precautionary. I haven't had any emergencies like that. I've adjusted pretty well to a life without legs and get around fairly well without help."

The silence grew uncomfortable and finally Harry spoke. "We know now why you left luv, but why didn't you…I don't know…we would've helped Dragon. You were so hurt, and then the next thing I knew, you were gone and I-I…" Harry's tears fell, and Draco opened his arms. His former lover went eagerly and curled into him as he cried silently onto his shoulder.

Draco rubbed circles on Harry's back knowing the other man would pull away when he was ready, and until then he was content to offer comfort. "I didn't want to be a burden. I wanted to make my way on my own if I could. And it didn't matter anyway, I couldn't tell any of you why I was leaving. It would have defeated the whole purpose and it's not like anyone really trusted me anyway. It was better that I just go."

Draco scrunched his nose as a disturbing thought came to him, he looked at each person in the room and settled his gaze on his godfather and his lover, "And just how did you figure out why I left?"

Snape snorted, "Really Draco. 'Love's Triumph: The Story of the Boy Who Lived?' Could you be any more obvious?"

He gaped, "But it's--"

Remus cleared his throat, "I spent a lot of time in Italy after I left Hogwarts Draco. I translated the lyrics you printed in the program during the intermission."

Draco pulled his hand over his face, "Well that explains that…And I'll have you know Sev, that I fought my advisor long and hard for that title and whether you think it's soppy or not I think it's quite fitting, and being as it's my piece, really my opinion is the only one that matters." He added a bit haughtily.

The corner of Snape's mouth raised in the barest hint of a grin, "I see you've lost none of your…strength of character--during your sojourn amongst the muggles, Draco. And it is, I suppose, fitting as you are still obviously a love-sick fool." The Potions Master sniffed, "However, despite your lapse into acute sentimentality, I admit I was…uncommonly moved by the piece and your dedication."

The flaxen-haired man smiled, his godfather's praise was always granted sparingly, so he was extraordinarily proud to receive and know his work was appreciated by the cynical man. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," Hermione interrupted. "It was beautiful-- so wonderful Draco. It was like being pulled back through time. The music took me on this incredible journey through your memories. And even the painful parts, the hard parts…when I had to remember how many died, and how much was destroyed, were beautiful because it made grieving a process of finding peace and acceptance. And then there was such-such joy in victory and it was like coming into the knowledge that everything had a purpose and the world really was better despite everything that was lost, and there was hope that we could rebuild some of what was broken, even though we'll never forget that some is lost forever. It was healing in a way I never knew I needed, and I think it was like that for all of us."

He smiled gently and sighed, "Then I did it right. The music was to lead, and the audience to follow, even if for the muggles it was just an emotional journey, and not one of remembrance."

"It was powerful mate. All of it." Ron added

"And we're very proud of you Draco," Pansy finally spoke. She sighed, "I'm just going to say what everyone's skirting around because otherwise we'll be here all day. We want you to come home Draco. Hermione figured out where you were two weeks ago, and we've been frantic to see you since, but decided it would be best to wait and come to your recital. You are wanted and welcome at home. Everyone knows what you did. Harry nearly exploded The Daily Prophet offices when they wrote an article that named you as a Death Eater and condemned you as a traitor and a coward. They printed a retraction and a statement from Harry and the Order the next day. You're not a pariah. You're a hero. And now that we've found you, we don't want to loose you again."

Draco hung his head; it was all too much to hope for--he could go home again. But, he'd built a new life here, and he had friends who'd become family. He didn't want to loose them. Harry chocked on a sob then and he looked down to see his lover hadn't stopped crying, he was in fact, shaking now. Draco looked up helplessly and caught Remus' eye. The werewolf nodded and stood.

"I think Harry and Draco need some time alone. So why don't we uh-head into town and walk around for a bit." He started to usher the room's occupants towards the door.

Draco cleared his throat, "It's too far to walk into town from here, but there's the bus or you can ask one of my housemates for keys to the Expedition." He and Hermione shared a grin at the perplexed expressions throughout the room.

"It's a muggle vehicle like the one we have," She said in explanation. "It's okay Draco. We apparated to the airport and I rented and SUV for us. Why don't you and Harry meet us in town around 3?"

He checked the time, nearly 10, and nodded, "On the corner of Morris and Main there's a bookshop, The Tattered Cover, they have a really nice café. We'll meet you there at half three. It's a big shop so you won't miss it, and there's plenty of parking on the street."

Hermione nodded as everyone made their way out of the room then closed the door.

They were alone.

Draco's heart threatened to beat out of his chest.

"Dragon?"

Draco ran his fingers through Harry's messy hair until he'd finally calmed, "Hmm?"

"You've made a good life here."

"Thank you. I've worked hard for it," He smiled. Harry was still the same; he'd start emotionally sensitive conversations with a statement that could be taken any number of ways--as a compliment, a question, a judgement and gauge how to proceed from the response. And he knew exactly how Draco responded to his opening gambits. He could feel Harry smile against his chest and grinned himself.

"You're not going to play are you?"

"Do I ever?"

"I really should stop trying that with you shouldn't I?" the smile didn't fade.

"Yes, you should, but you knew that already. Now what was it you really wanted to say or ask?"

Stalling, Harry pulled himself from Draco's shoulder, and lay next to him on the bed, "I've missed cuddling. Come cuddle with me."

Tbc….