A/N: Here's chapter seven. Harry and Draco have another talk, and watch a movie.

This is Harry/Draco, post-Hogwarts, though the slash content is extremely light. There are very vague suggestions of other relationships as well.

I've got this all written out, though I'm not 100 percent sure of the chapters, yet. There are 46 sections, but I may combine some of the smaller sections with the ones around them.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Dedication: To Foodie, who still betas me despite my predilection for slash, and for FionaFawkes, who read and reviewed every single chapter, and gave me such excellent feedback. And a special thank you to Lysa, who suggested the movie they watch in this chapter. If you haven't seen Orlando, I highly recommend it. Also, for everyone who's read and loved my Harry/Draco. This one's for you.

-----7

Harry let Draco choose the game to play that night. He'd been slowly teaching Draco about computer games, and with them, Muggle technology, and Draco couldn't help but be fascinated. There was just something about the visceral experience of manipulating things that felt wonderful to him.

They frequently played a lot of Jet Moto together, which was a racing game played on bikes that Harry had had to explain didn't exist yet, much like the Muggle time machines from the movie they'd seen. Draco liked that game, because it almost felt like playing Quidditch again. That was something he wouldn't be allowed to do until he finished this retraining program of the Ministry's—if he did at all. And even better, they could play together, racing each other to the finish line. The first time Draco'd won, he'd been so excited, he'd nearly hugged Harry before remembering who he was.

There was also a strange game that Harry had been teaching him on his computer called the Sims. That was lots of fun as well. Draco had taken great pride in creating a model of two levels of Malfoy Manor, while loudly complaining that that was all that was allowed. Harry's response was amusement. After all, even Draco knew that he could hardly change the limits the game had set. He had then created Sims of his parents and Snape, and set them loose in the Manor. The Snape Sim hadn't gotten along with either of his parents, which had made both of them snicker, and Harry had been even more amused when Draco had forced his parents into the gaudy purple and red love bed so that his Sim-self could be born.

"Not really so different from reality, actually," he'd told Harry.

His parents had been fond of each other by the time he was old enough to notice, but the choice to marry each other had never been theirs. Both sets of parents had wanted to ensure the continuance of their prestigious lines, and wanted someone of high standing for their children. The two had barely spent any time together at school, Lucius being older than Narcissa by several years, and both had had other love interests when the match had been arranged. They had been discreet about their other partners over the years, but Draco knew that they hadn't slept together since he had been conceived. There had been no need. And once he'd been born, and an heir assured, both had gone on to pursue their separate interests.

Draco's favourite game, though, was a little game on Harry's computer called Civilizations. It was actually an empire-building game, and Draco would play it for hours when Harry let him. He'd started with a small map, and had been thrilled when he'd managed to conquer the three other nations around him, so Harry had allowed him to start on a much larger map and see how long it would take him. He often got so engrossed in the game that Harry would have to tap him on the shoulder before Draco would realize he was even saying anything.

Tonight, though, he needed the visceral experience of the racing game. He'd managed to keep himself from even responding verbally to Weasley's jabs, and needed to work off some of the anger that had built up because of the sod. They agreed upon a set of races to play off, then proceeded to race, losing themselves in the game, and before Draco knew it, it was time for bed.

This was one of the few rules that Draco truly resented. The other rules had begun to mean less as time went on, but he still hated being treated as though he were his actual physical age, rather than his mental age.

When Harry mentioned it was bedtime, Draco set down his controller and glowered at him. "So?"

Harry sighed. "Can we not do this tonight, Draco? I know it bugs you, but I have a good reason for insisting."

Draco snorted. "And what would that be, exactly? Do you like treating me like I'm half your age, Potter?"

"I'm going to let that little slip go, because I know you've had a trying evening, Draco… The bedtime is something Snape suggested, actually. He said that the potion would cause your body to tire out easier. It's not like I'm making you go to bed at six or something. And I even changed it this week."

"So? I feel like a child. I hate it. I hated it when I was a child." Never mind that his bedtime had never been earlier than eleven. He'd still hated the constraints.

Harry's mouth thinned. "I know you're upset from what happened tonight, Draco, but this is something I won't change. I realize it's hardly endearing me to you, but, well, if all this works, you'll be a free man, and you won't have to see me again," he said with a sour look.

"Exactly what you want, hm? Me out of your hair?" Draco asked snidely.

Harry, closed his eyes, looking pained. "No, Draco. That's not true. I haven't wanted that for a while, actually."

Shocked, Draco was unable to respond to this revelation. What did Harry mean by that? That he didn't hate Draco any more?

"Come on, Draco. I can clean up in here before I go to bed myself." He stood up, and Draco followed, so lost in thought that he didn't even bother to argue any further. Harry liked him? Maybe cared about him? Or maybe this was his way of showing Snape that he was sorry he hadn't believed in him. Draco dismissed that idea completely. The day Harry tried to impress Snape was the day Dumbledore came back from the dead.

So why, then? Draco pulled on his pajamas quickly, then scrambled into bed. Harry pulled the covers around him, and settled on the bed. "I just want to thank you, Draco. You were amazing tonight. You didn't react to Ron once. I appreciate how hard that was for you. So…thank you." Draco shrugged.

It had at least been worth it to see the Weasel so annoyed by the fact that he'd never responded, and Harry defending him had been quite good as well. He just wished he understood why he'd done it. Harry moved to stand, but Draco caught his hand before he could rise, the question slipping from him before he could stop it. "Why?"

Harry looked at him, astonished. "Why am I thanking you?"

Draco shook his head. "No. Why me?" Draco could see the moment Harry's defenses came up, and he wished he could perform legilimency on him. Whatever he was hiding had to be something big.

Harry turned away. "You know how it is. Everyone knows who Harry Potter is. If I was going to do this right, I needed a big name. They wanted to start with the Death Eaters' kids, and since you're about as high-profile as I am, it just made sense, okay?"

It wasn't okay. Whatever Harry was hiding, it wasn't something he was ready to tell Draco. Draco wondered if he ever would. "Okay. Night, then."

Harry seemed to relax a bit when Draco didn't push for more. He smiled. "Night." Draco watched as he moved across the room, turned out the light, and shut the door behind him.

He stayed awake quite a while that night, trying to puzzle out the mystery that was Harry Potter.

◦♦☼♦◦

Days passed quickly after that. Most days were spent talking about the Muggle world, and Harry even took Draco on a few jaunts into Muggle London now that he was allowed out of the house. He'd shown Draco what public transportation was like, and Draco had sworn that he would never use it again, thoroughly disgusted by some of the people who had been in the Underground with them.

The trip had not been a total loss, though. Harry had taken him to Buckingham Palace, and the two had had a long discussion about when the English Crown had separated from the Wizarding World.

Draco had been amused by Harry's surprise at the fact that the Crown had, indeed once known of the existence of the Wizarding World, and his astonishment that several Wizarding Families had blood connections to the Royals. Distant connections, of course, but even so. In fact, Draco had informed him, there had been rumours that Prince William might have had Wizarding talent that had been suppressed by the Queen because she had wanted him to have a Muggle upbringing.

Draco had laughed at the look on Harry's face. "Just imagine, Harry. We might have gone to school with Prince William. You might have actually had someone who could give you a true run for your money."

Harry had looked down at him, smiling slightly. "Oh, I had that, Draco."

Draco'd felt his cheeks heat at that, though he was rather pleased that Harry had seen him that way, even in school.

Harry had also taken Draco to the Zoo. Draco had been to a Wizarding Zoo once. It had been filled with all sorts of bizarre creatures that had been penned behind thick sheets of glass to keep them from escaping. It had been an exciting experience. It had been his first real glimpse of a dragon, though the dragon had been in the middle of its field, several yards from the glass, and half-hidden in the shrubs.

Upon entering the Muggle zoo, he'd been so sure that the creatures there would be a let-down. Harry had proven him wrong. They'd gone from cage to cage, and Draco had been astounded at the variety of non-magical creatures there were in the world. Sure, there weren't dragons here, but those crocodiles looked pretty fearsome, and the bears were huge.

He'd had to drag a Harry protesting into the snake-house, but once inside, he'd become almost as fascinated with the lizards and snakes there as Draco. Halfway through the exhibit, Harry stopped in front of a large glass-enclosed cage. Draco moved forward to see a dull-green and brown snake, roughly the size of the Dark Lord's pet snake, Nagini, coiled in the bottom of the cage. He was so distracted by the monster's size that he jumped when a hissing sound came from just behind his shoulder.

Draco watched, astonished, as the snake's head rose up to look out at them. He could faintly hear the snake hiss back, and listened to Harry respond. He could feel the hiss of air over his shoulder, almost feeling as though it were sliding down his back. It was an odd feeling, but he didn't hate it.

Harry laughed, and Draco turned to look at him. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing, really. Come on, let's go get some lunch."

It was only later, after Harry had told him an amusing story about how he had set that very same snake on his cousin, that Draco found out that the snake had been asking Harry if he needed help scaring this boy as well. Harry had assured Draco he'd told the snake that they were friends, and that there was no need to scare him. Draco had thanked him for that, though, he'd said, it wouldn't have been too bad to meet such a large snake up close and personal…

◦♦☼♦◦

A week before Draco's next test was scheduled, Remus Lupin reappeared. He came for a visit one afternoon, and Draco promised Harry that he would be on his best behaviour.

Lupin had been nice enough to him the last time, so it hadn't been a difficult promise to make, but he found he'd missed a few things when the man had visited before. Lupin hadn't sniped at him, but he also hadn't taken to Draco, apparently. He spent much of the visit talking quietly with Harry, and when Draco had tried to join into the conversation, Lupin's gold eyes had looked up at him, and he'd felt himself quail at the other man's stare. After the third rebuff, Draco withdrew to the far side of the room to read.

Unlike with Weasley and Granger, Lupin spoke in such an undertone that Draco was unable to hear a word that he said to Harry. Harry's voice was equally quiet, and despite himself, Draco found himself straining for any recognizable word.

It felt miserable to be hated as much as Harry's friends hated him, but he was finding it was even worse to be completely ignored, as though he were just a piece of furniture. He was pleased when dinner arrived and Lupin begged off, saying he had a few tasks to deal with, and had left. Harry hadn't said anything, just led Draco to the kitchen, where they prepared a meal that they could take into the den so they could watch a movie while they ate.

After coming home from London, Draco and Harry had watched several movies on the British Royalty, some fairly true-to-life, and others far less so, though Draco had assured Harry that the huge chunks of Wizarding history about the Royals in the movies were always completely missing.

Tonight they were watching one that was not so much about any of the Royals, but rather had one as a character in the story. Harry'd asked him to keep an open mind, and Draco had snorted. He surely had a far more open mind than any silly Muggle movie-maker.

They settled onto the couch with their supper—leftovers—and Harry started up the movie. At first there seemed to be nothing unusual about the story, about a young nobleman who caught the attention of Queen Elizabeth shortly before her death, but then the first strange thing happened. The young man fell asleep awaking only days later, completely unchanged. This repeated throughout the beginning of the movie, and led Draco to wonder if the man weren't being poisoned with sleeping draughts by someone.

But this was not the strangeness Harry had apparently been speaking of, for, about halfway through the movie, the man woke from one of these sudden bouts of long sleep to discover that he was no longer a man, but a woman instead. Surprised, Draco pushed down all his questions, though he desperately wanted to ask why Harry had felt he needed to see something like this.

It was an odd story, but by the end, Draco couldn't exactly pretend the story itself had not moved him.

Harry turned to him as soon as the credits began to roll. "So, what did you think?"

"It…It was about magic," Draco managed.

Harry shook his head. "Not really. The woman who wrote the story, Virginia Woolf, was a Muggle writer. It was an allegory for her life, and more for some of the things she wanted to say."

"She felt like a man who'd suddenly woken up one day as a woman?" Draco asked incredulously.

"No. But she obviously felt that women got the short end of the stick, didn't she? That they deserved more rights than they were given. That they were really no different from men, if they were given the chance."

Draco sniffed. "My mother never had a problem with the fact that she was my father's wife. Why would this woman feel that was such a horrible fate?"

Harry snorted. "You told me yourself that they only slept together enough to ensure your father an heir, Draco. Didn't you ever wonder if that was really what she wanted?"

"It was expected," Draco said with a shrug. "Just like I would have been expected to father a son on Pansy or one of the other girls near my age in the families in our circle."

"Even if you didn't want to?" Draco shrugged again. "That doesn't bug you at all?"

"Well, it was sort of a nebulous someday, and it's rather disappeared, hasn't it? What with my family name in ruins…" He sighed. "It was just the way things were, Harry."

"So what you're telling me is you were just going to do whatever your father told you?" Harry asked angrily. Then he snorted, waving off Draco's response before he could even open his mouth. "Never mind. I forgot why you're in this position in the first place. Haven't you ever wondered if there might be other ways, Draco?"

Draco repressed the urge to shrug again, instead really thinking about what Harry had just asked. Had he ever thought to fight against what his father had told him was the only proper way to live? He could honestly say no to that. But hadn't he frequently wished his father would at least give him a choice in some things? He'd frequently railed at what his father had said were just 'the way things were meant to be.' Usually away from his father's sight, of course. He couldn't afford to have Lucius angry at him. Lucius's punishments were—creative. In a very dangerous way. Oh, he'd never hit Draco. Never hurt him physically. But that didn't stop him from ordering the elves to do things, or to keep things from him. And when the elves were ordered to do things, they always followed through—to the letter. Draco loved his father, but he wasn't blind to the fact that Lucius's temper was dangerous—deadly, even. It was simply better not to rouse it, if he could.

Draco looked up to see Harry looking at him, frowning. "It was the way things were, Harry. Fighting against it wouldn't have gotten me anywhere. Surely you have some idea of what that's like."

Harry's eyes closed at that. He hadn't really talked about his past with his Muggle family, but Draco had heard the rumours, and Harry had let a few things slip in the past two months that he begun to realize perhaps they weren't just rumours after all. "All she's trying to say, Draco, is that it's always good to question the norm. That just because we are who we are, we can never understand someone else's point of view, but that it's always good to try. Does that make sense?"

Draco cocked his head. "Where'd you get that from, Harry?"

"Orlando found himself more and more out of step with his own time, so he began to question everything, and when he realized he couldn't learn anything any more as a man, he became a woman."

Draco opened his mouth to disagree, but realized he couldn't particularly find a fault in that summation of the movie. "All right, then. So because of that, I'm supposed to go against everything I've been taught?" he asked, annoyed.

"No, Draco," Harry sighed. "It means that maybe you need to find a way to put yourself in others' shoes. In a way, that's kind of what the Ministry's done to you, by making you younger."

Draco grimaced. "Maybe they should have made me female instead…"