I'm hoping Ron isn't too out of character in this chapter. I'd like to think after three years, he's matured quite a bit.

Thanks to Guest, Yukino76, Violanna, and Hotflower901 for reading and reviewing the last chapter. The reviews aren't showing up on Fanfiction, but I got the emails. I seem to be having so many problem on the site while trying to post this story.

The first day back at work in the new year, Harry approached his desk to find a plate of crumpets with butter and honey, alongside a cup of hot tea. He looked around for Ron, assuming he had gotten breakfast for the pair of them. Not finding him, Harry sat down and waved a wand over the meal to spell for poisons or dark magic. He found no magic at all, in fact.

Just then, Ron walked in. "Oi, you couldn't have gotten me some too?"

"I didn't get this. It was here. Whoever left it must have done it only moments before I arrived. It's still warm."

"Probably a warming spell."

Harry shook his head. "No. There's no magic in it at all."

Ron raised an eyebrow. "Muggle food? Who would have done that? Maybe Hermione. Or maybe Maeve is still trying to suck up."

"Maybe." Harry eyed the golden-brown crumpets. There wasn't anything sinister about them. And it would be a shame to let them go to waste. So he poured a bit of honey over them and began eating.

"Oi, what's this?" Ron bent over and picked up a small folded parchment. "H. Enjoy. D."

Harry stopped mid-chew. "What?"

"D. Do you think it stands for Donal?" Ron asked. "Isn't that the name of the one you went to supper with last week?"

"Yeah." Harry frowned. "But why would he send me breakfast?"

Ron shrugged a shoulder. "Guess he's returning the favor from supper."

"Could be." Harry wasn't convinced.

"You could always go and ask him," suggested Ron.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. I sort of ended the date a bit early. There wasn't any chemistry between us. I would expect he might be a bit miffed."

"Are they good?' Ron asked.

"Yeah, they're very tasty."

"Then give some here."

hdhdhdhd

Down at the canteen, Harry could practically feel Draco's eyes on him. He resisted looking back as long as he could. When at last he did, his resolve began to break. As angry as he wanted to be with Draco, he couldn't help feeling a little sorry for the man. Draco had tried over and over to apologize, taking all of Harry's temperament in stride. He was persistent, Harry had to give him that.

Draco smiled, but there was a subtle sadness to it. Perhaps his determination was beginning to wane.

"Won't you, Harry?"

"Huh?"

"Give it up, Hermione. He's watching Malfoy again," Ron said.

Harry's first instinct was to tell Ron to fuck himself, but his best friend was right. "Sorry. Did you say something Hermione?"

"We were talking about wedding suits. You'll help Ron with that, won't you?"

"How would I know what to pick?"

She laughed. "I don't expect you to know. I only want you to go with Ron to make sure he listens to the shopkeeper's suggestions. Besides, you have excellent taste in dress robes."

"Oh, sure." Harry's head involuntarily turned in Draco's direction again, but he was gone.

Ron sighed heavily. "Mate, why don't you just go out with him?"

"What? I don't want to go out with him," Harry protested.

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

Standing to gather his tray, Ron said, "You can keep telling us that. Or you can be honest with yourself. You know, this reminds me of when we were in school. You'd watch Malfoy all the time, because you said he was up to no good."

"Because he was up to no good."

Ron leaned over. "And what's your excuse now?"

Harry simply stared back up at him.

"Ron, Harry needs to figure this out for himself," said Hermione.

With his friends leaving, Harry cradled his head. "How am I supposed to figure this out for myself?

"All right, Harry?" a voice asked.

He looked up to find Donal with a concerned look on his face.

"Oh, hi Donal. How are you?"

"Hell of a sight better than you, I'd wager. Is something wrong?"

"No," Harry replied, but he didn't even sound convincing to himself.

"I know our date didn't go well, but you look like you could use a friend."

"Yeah. I think I've pissed off the few friends I have."

Donal took a seat. "What happened?"

"Uh . . ." Harry was reluctant to discuss his love life woes with a man he'd basically turned down. "You don't want to hear about my problems."

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to hear."

Pursing his lips, Harry decided that perhaps the opinion of an objective third party could help. He took a deep breath, then said out loud the things he had a difficult time admitting in his own head.

"Okay. There's a man I'm very much attracted to."

"And he's not attracted to you? Is he mental?"

"No. He is. In fact, he's been pursuing me rather boldly."

"I don't see the problem. What am I missing?"

"We have a tempestuous past."

"I'm guessing not in a good way."

Harry shook his head. "We basically hated each other from the moment we met; trading insults, throwing curses and trying to get the other in trouble. Although, that last one was more his doing than mine."

"Sounds . . . very passionate."

Harry's brow furrowed. Passionate was never a word he used to describe his past with Draco. It was, however, the way he felt the night they went to Draco's flat.

"I can understand why you felt we had no spark if you already have that, and more, with someone else," Donal continued. "Do you believe he's sincere?"

"Yes, I do. But I'm not sure how he got past the memories of all the hateful things we said and did."

Donal smiled. "There's a thin line between love and hate. Or so I've heard. And obviously, he's willing to overlook it. Maybe you should concentrate on what you like about him now."

A smile grew on Harry lips. "He can be quite charming. And his sense of humor is a bit devilish. Unfortunately, I end up the butt of most jokes. He says I'm great fun to tease."

"Ah, and you don't like that."

"On the contrary. Most wizards are too worried about offending me. Or they're idolizing me." Harry laughed. "He doesn't concern himself with either of those things. It's refreshing."

Donal rested his chin on his hand. "So, you're attracted to this man physically and emotionally. Plus, you share a history. And you believe he's sincere in his pursuit. I'm still not sure I see the problem."

"Did I mention my friends hate him?"

"That could be a problem. Have you talked to them?"

"I think it's pretty obvious by the tone of Ron's voice. He told me I was lying to myself when I said I wasn't interested in Draco."

Donal sat up straighter. "Draco? Draco Malfoy is the man pursuing you? So that's why he's been skulking about the department."

"Skulking?"

"Well, perhaps not skulking. But he's a Death Eater, yeah?"

"No. Not anymore. He's trying to be a productive member of society," Harry defended. "He's renounced the Death Eaters. Shacklebolt wouldn't have hired him if he hadn't been completely vetted."

Donal let out a chuckle. "All right, all right. Harry, I think it's pretty obvious how you feel about this bloke. And if your friends are any sort of good friends, they'll support you."

"You're right." Harry stood to clear his lunch mess. "Oh, by the way, you didn't leave something on my desk this morning, did you?"

"No. Such as what?"

"It's not important. Thank you for your help, Donal."

"My pleasure."

Harry turned to leave, then turned back 'round. "I mean that sincerely. I'd like to be able to count you among my friends. And if I can return the favour . . ."

"I'll be sure to call on you." Donal nodded.

Harry left the canteen convinced that Draco was the one to leave him breakfast, in another attempt to get into Harry's good books. It was working. He had always prided himself on the fact that he couldn't be swayed by bribery. He wished Draco would give him time and space to think. When pushed, Harry's instinct was to push back.

By the time he got back to his office, Ron was elbow deep in paperwork.

"Where have you been? I had to finish the Thistlebeck file myself."

"Sorry. I needed a little time to think."

"You're letting this whole thing with Malfoy distract you. Just fucking decide what to do and do it."

"Why the fuck are you so miffed? What about all that bullshit you and Hermione say about only want me to be happy. You want me to be happy on your terms."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You don't want me to choose Draco because you still hate him."

Ron leaned forward, resting his arms on his desk. His expression darkened.

"I have a wedding to plan, a business proposal to consider, and a sister who's just getting back to her old self after having her heart broken because you couldn't be honest with yourself. You want to waste your time? Fine. But you wasted Ginny's time too."

"What? How is this about Ginny? She's doing fine."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to see her crying, wondering why she wasn't enough for you."

"I'm gay. She knows it has nothing to do with her."

"She knows that now. But you waited months to finally explain it to her, because you were too afraid to come out. You really hurt her. Maybe you didn't mean to, but you did. And now you're stringing Malfoy along. I'm not Malfoy's biggest fan, by any stretch of the imagination. But even he deserves your honesty." Ron relaxed a bit. "You're still trying to do what you think everyone expects of you. It doesn't matter how I feel about Malfoy. It matters how you feel about him."

Whether it was good timing or bad, Harry couldn't decide, Malfoy showed up at their door. He must have picked up on the tension in the room.

"I'll come back another time."

"Wait," Harry called out. "I'll come with you."

He looked at Ron, then left the room with Draco.

"He's going to kill me. I haven't done much work today," he told Draco once they'd stopped in an alcove down the hall.

"Then why did you come with me?"

"To find out what you wanted."

Draco smiled. "You know what I want."

"I'm serious."

"Me too."

Rolling his eyes, Harry turned to walk away.

"Don't go. I only wanted to see if you enjoyed the breakfast I left."

"So, it was you."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Draco asked, "Who else would it have been?"

"It doesn't matter. Why did you do it?"

"For the same reason most people do nice things for each other."

"But, why Muggle food?"

"Oh, I thought you might like . . ." Draco pursed his lips.

"I do," Harry was quick to say. "I appreciate that you went out of your way. It was very nice."

"There's another nice thing I'd like to do for you." Draco leaned forward.

Harry involuntarily tilted his head toward Draco. They had already been standing relatively close. And Harry was certain Draco was planning to kiss him. He even wanted him to. Instead, Draco leaned back.

"Let me take you to supper again."

"What? I thought we already talked about that. You can't make up for poor actions with supper."

"Not to make up for anything. Not to apologize. Because I want to take you out on a proper date."

Part of Harry wanted to say yes. Part of him wanted to be a stubborn arse.

Draco continued. "If things don't go the way you'd like, I won't bother you again. I won't tease you or try to humiliate you in retaliation. I'll leave you alone. I promise."

"I really should get some work done," Harry said.

"Will you at least think about it?"

"I'll think about it if you stop doing things like leaving me breakfast."

"Or dildos?"

"Especially dildos," Harry laughed.

Draco clicked his heels, turned, and walked away.

As usual, Harry was left with conflicting feelings.

"So what happened?" Ron asked him when he got back to the office.

Harry shrugged. "He was the one who left the crumpets. He wanted to know if I enjoyed them."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah," Harry lied.

hdhdhdhd

For the remainder of the week, Draco didn't leave any gifts on Harry's desk. Neither did he try to pressure him into going out again. They traded glances in the canteen, while Ron shook his head, and Hermione tried not to notice. Actually, they were more like lingering gazes, but Harry wasn't going to admit that.

On Friday, during lunch, Ron appeared to have had enough.

"You're doing it again."

Harry turned to look at him.

"Leave it alone, Ron," Hermione said.

"No. I've held my tongue long enough."

"Go ahead," Harry said. "If you've got something to say, say it."

Ron put his fork down. "Shit or get off the pot already. What are you afraid of?"

Harry opened his mouth to ask Ron to clarify, but he didn't have a chance. Ron continued his tirade.

"I'll tell you what you're afraid of. You're afraid of disappointing. You think you'll disappoint Hermione and me, or your multitude of admirers. You think you'll tarnish the memory of Remus and Tonks, and F–Fred," his voice briefly caught in his throat, "and all the other people killed by Death Eaters by not continuing to play the hero."

Hermione put her hand on his shoulder. "Ron, you're being too harsh."

Ignoring her, Ron pushed through. "But you're only disappointing yourself." He glanced across the room. "And probably him. All those people we lost in the war, your friends, would want you to be happy. Whatever that is. You didn't fight, and win, only so everybody else could be happy."

"I know."

"Do you? Then do what you want to do. The only way you'll disappoint me, and I think I can speak for Hermione as well, is if you let life pass you by instead of going after what you want. Either go after Malfoy, or cut him loose. But do it because it's what you want."

Hermione looked between the men, half expecting Harry to get up resolutely in pursuit of Draco. But he sat with his brow furrowed, pensive.

"Come on, Ron," she said. "Let's give Harry some space."

They picked up their trays, and left Harry alone. He turned his head in time to see Draco walking out of the canteen. Quickly tossing his tray, Harry followed him to the lifts.

Once inside, Draco turned to push the button. He was visibly surprised to see Harry there.

"This lift doesn't even go to your level," he smirked.

"Not that same restaurant," Harry said.

"Sorry?"

"I don't want to go to that same restaurant."

Draco drew in a breath. Harry was finally accepting his invitation. "Wherever you want."

Harry thought a moment. He might prefer a Muggle establishment. The idea of anonymity was appealing. If he and Draco were actually going to give it a go, he didn't want nosy witches or wizards ogling them.

"What if I chose a Muggle restaurant?"

The twitch of Draco's nose was subtle. "If that's what you prefer."

"It is. It's my turn to get you to try something new."

Harry didn't want to wear transfigured clothing again, so he proposed they each went back to their respective flats at the end of the day to change, then meet back up outside the Ministry.

The restaurant Harry chose was an upscale pub, with a relaxed atmosphere, but not rowdy like some of the places Harry frequented. Though he told Draco it was dress casual, the man showed up in a jacket, but without a tie. Harry wore a finely knit tan jumper and black jeans.

When they walked in, a pert hostess asked how many in their party. Harry said something in her ear, and she smiled. She then led them to a back corner of the restaurant away from the kitchen entrance.

"How did we get a table without a booking?" asked Draco.

"Casual dining doesn't usually require one."

"Oh. And what did you say to her that made her smile?"

"I told her this was our first official date and we wanted a quiet, candle lit table for two."

There was that killer smile again. "But Harry, all the table have candles, and most of them are two tops."

"Yes, but we got the corner booth."

Draco looked around. It was relatively early for a Friday night and there were few people in the dining area.

"Normally, one wants a table in the middle in order to be seen spending loads of money at a fine restaurant. However, I can definitely see the appeal of this."

A young girl with several facial piercings approached. "Good evening luvs. Can I get a drink order?" She handed them each a menu.

"May I?" Harry asked Draco. "Two Black and Tans please."

"Sure thing. I'll be right back." She winked.

"What is a Back and Tan?"

"It's Guinness with bitter," Harry replied. "The way they pour them keeps the colors separate. You drink beer, don't you?"

"Occasionally."

Harry's brow furrowed. Draco had remembered to ask Harry if he drank wine before he ordered it. He was kicking himself for not asking first.

"Don't worry, I'll let you order your own food. Everything here is top notch. Although, I haven't actually tried everything. But what I have eaten was fantastic."

"You don't have to sell it so hard, Harry. It isn't about the food. It's about the company."

Harry tried to remember that. But he also wanted Draco to be pleased with Harry's choice. Once ordering was out of the way, they could concentrate on conversation, which was difficult with the way the candle light made Draco's eyes sparkle. It took him a second to realize he was staring.

"Don't look away now," Draco said. "I haven't gotten much opportunity to really study those famous eyes."

Harry looked back at him.

"They say you've got your mother's eyes. I don't know much about her, but she must have been extraordinarily beautiful."

Harry could feel himself blush at the implication. "She was. But overall, I favour my father."

"Yes, James Potter."

Harry's brows raised. "You know my father's name?"

"I've read some biographies of your life."

"Oh." Harry's shoulders slumped.

"They say you're a legend, practically a god. Nearly as famous as Godric Gryffindor himself. You know, I actually got a chocolate frog card of you once."

"Really." Harry took a sip of his Black and Tan.

"They've got it all wrong, though."

"Have they?" Harry was beginning to think this date would end the same as so many before.

"They've completely missed how perfectly imperfect you are."

"Sorry?"

"It wasn't meant to be an insult," Draco clarified.

"If I'm so imperfect, then why did you want to go out with me?"

Draco took a sip of his Guinness, and paused in thought.

"Because you're humble, when you have every right to be arrogant. You're kind, when you have every right to shun me. And because, even though you were brave enough to save the wizarding world from evil, you trembled when I kissed you. You are the most courageous wizard, yet somehow, naive and vulnerable. You have a scar on your forehead and permanently unruly hair, and still, you must be the most handsome man I've ever seen. You are perfectly imperfect."

Harry's breath hitched. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull Draco into his arms and snog him senseless.

"Here you go luvs." The server placed their plates in front of them. "Be careful, that one's hot," she said to Harry.

"Yes, he is," he answered absently.

The server laughed. "Let me know if there's anything else I can get you. But you seem to have everything you need." She winked.

He smacked his own forehead.

"Well, I suppose I don't need to ask why you agreed to go out with me," Draco smirked.

"You think it's only about the way you look? After all the things you just said about me?"

Draco chuckled. "No, I don't. But frankly, I'm not certain why you agreed to spend time with me. I was intolerable when I was young and privileged."

"Yeah, you were." Harry tried to laugh it off. He didn't want to talk about how they used to behave towards each other. "But you've changed. And so have I, I suppose. Because I find your wit charming, when it's not directed at me."

"And when it is?"

"I like the attention." Harry looked down at his meal. Chicken Tikka Masala was one of Harry's favorites. But he was beginning to hunger for something else. However, he needed to remain composed.

"Hm, this sirloin is top notch, as you put it," Draco said. He continued to eat as though Harry hadn't called him charming or said he liked Draco's attention.

While Draco was occupied by his meal, Harry took the opportunity to observe him. He'd never taken notice of the powder-light eyelashes before. Or the sculpted cheekbones. The lips, he was well aware of. Harry watched Draco bring a forkful to his mouth and close his lips around the utensil. Draco pulled the fork slowly, as though taunting Harry. Then the lips smirked.

Draco was watching him as well. "You haven't tried yours."

"Oh. Right."

Harry busied himself with his own meal, resisting the temptation to gaze at Draco's lips. He did watch his hands. The same hands that stroked him off after their last supper. They were well cared for–soft, but not feminine. His fingers were long and thin, and Harry wondered if he knew how to play piano. A lot of wealthy families seemed to have pianos. But Harry knew he was only trying to distract himself from thinking about exactly how far up his arse Draco's fingers could fit.

"It must be quite good," Draco commented. "Judging by the moan."

"Fuck." Had Harry really moaned out loud daydreaming about Draco fingering him?

"What I wouldn't give to know what's going on in that head of yours."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "It's been a while since I've gone on a date I felt was going well. And I'm probably making a balls-up of it."

"Not at all. But you know, you never really answered my question."

Harry didn't recall hearing Draco ask him anything. How rude Harry must have appeared.

He sighed. "I'm so sorry. I am not normally so inattentive."

"Am I boring you?"

"No. You're distracting me."

"I'm distracting you from me?" Draco tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile.

When Draco put it like that, it sounded ridiculous, no matter how true it may have been.

"I can't stop thinking about what's going to happen when we're finished here," Harry admitted. "I can't even remember the last time I felt so attracted to another man."

Draco stared, his mouth slightly agape at Harry's confession.

"Then perhaps we ought to get the bill."

The server bagged the rest of their meals. Draco tried to pay for them, but, as a Muggle pub, they didn't accept galleons. Not-so-secretly pleased that he was able to reciprocate for their previous meal, Harry happily paid the bill and tipped their server generously.

This time around, Harry was prepared to be apparated to Draco's flat. The first time, Harry hadn't taken notice of much, other than Draco himself. Curious, he looked around while Draco took their jackets to hang in a closet.

Generally speaking, the flat was clean. There were a few dirty dishes on the counter, the initialed teacup Harry gave him among them. When he turned, he saw the star chart hanging on the wall near Draco's bed.

Harry felt an embrace from behind. Draco lightly kissed the back of his neck in several places and caressed his chest.

"So what was it, exactly, you were imagining happening after supper?"

Harry turned in his arms. "This is a good start."

As Harry leaned forward for a kiss, Draco met him halfway, his tongue swiping Harry's lips. Harry melted into him, languidly kissing the lips he's been watching all evening. His fingers wove through Draco's fine hair. It was as soft as Harry imagined it to be. He felt Draco's hands palm his arse and moaned.

"Draco," Harry whispered. "I want your hands on me."

"Mm. Me too."

Wasting no time, Harry pulled his jumper over his head, then quickly began to unbutton Draco's shirt. Meanwhile, Draco worked on ridding them of their trousers.

Soon, they stood surrounded by clothing with nothing to hide behind. Harry looked down at Draco's cock and licked his lips. It had been a while since he had an opportunity to get such a lovely cock in his mouth. Taking the initiative, Harry gently pushed Draco to the bed and on his back. He kissed a trail down his body, inhaling Draco's intoxicating scent. Unable to hold back any longer, Harry enveloped Draco's cock all at once, sucking and running his tongue over every ridge and cranny.

Over and over, Harry pulled up then slid back down. Draco's moans spurred him on until he was moving at a pace quick enough to bring Draco off.

"Mm. Wait," Draco ground out.

Harry popped off. "Are you close?"

"Too close. I need a moment. Let me return the favour."

Harry gladly lay down, his cock pointed tall and proud waiting eagerly for Draco's mouth.

"Ah, fuck. I knew your lips would be perfect."

Closing his eyes, Harry reveled in the hot wetness surrounding him. It was so much better than wanking, even with oil. He felt Draco's fingers massaging his bollocks. Immediately, he recalled watching those fingers at the restaurant, and what he wanted them to do to him.

He let his legs fall open, hoping Draco would take the hint. He vaguely heard a small chuckle, but was rewarded with a gentle nudge against his hole.

"Do it," Harry begged. "Please."

For a moment, Draco's finger and mouth were gone, and there were sounds Harry couldn't quite identify. Draco whispered something, and suddenly Harry felt a great warming sensation inside him. It was gone but for a few seconds before Draco slid a slick finger into Harry's arse.

"Fuck." Harry arched his back.

"Relax." Draco's voice was calming, while his free hand tenderly rubbed Harry's belly.

Once Harry had gotten used to the feeling and he loosened up, Draco added another finger. Harry moaned as he was prodded in just the right place. When Draco's mouth descended on his cock once again, Harry knew he wouldn't last long. He opened his eyes to find Draco gazing up at him, full of lust.

Gasping, Harry cried out, "Shit. I'm cumming."

It hit him so quickly, that was all the warning he gave. He threw his head back basked in the feeling. As his cock spewed out each load, Draco swallowed it. Soon Harry was nothing more than a satiated bag of bones.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. "That was fucking brilliant." He realized Draco was still worked up and in need of release. "Come up here."

Draco complied, rubbing his cock along Harry's body as he did. He kissed Harry fervently while humping his hip.

Harry broke the kiss. "Come up all the way. Fuck my mouth."

Groaning, Draco straddled Harry and slipped his cock into the waiting mouth. He held onto the headboard, powering his hips forward and backward.

"Oh, Harry, I can't last."

All Harry could do was hum in response, which only drove Draco closer to orgasm.

"I'm going to cum soon. Should I move?"

Harry grabbed his hips, holding him in place. He was as keen on tasting Draco as Draco had been for him.

"Oh, fuck yeah." Draco stilled and let out a long moan.

With heavy lids and small smile on his face, Draco climbed off and snuggled in next to Harry, leisurely drawing circles on Harry's chest. He sighed, then snuggled closer.

"That was inspired," he said. "I never imagined you and I would be in this position when I was younger. Did you?"

"No."

Draco leaned back. "You regretting it already?"

"No. But . . .why do you keep bringing up our past?"

"We can't sweep it under the rug. The only way to move past it is to acknowledge it."

"But I don't want to think about how we used to treat each other. I don't really think of you as that person anymore."

Draco leaned up on an elbow. "Good. I don't think I am that person anymore. Tell me something about you that I don't know."

Harry chuckled. "There must be loads about me you don't know."

"Then it's an easy task."

"Um, well, I didn't really come to terms with being gay until after I had been dating Ginny for a year, after the war was over."

"Did you not know? Or were you trying to hide it?"

"I thought I was simply pants at relationships. I tried dating other girls too, but it never really worked out. To be honest, I was far too busy to even worry about it. What about you?"

"I've known I was different since I was young. I used Pansy as a cover for a while, but she thought she could turn me if she was persistent enough. So I came out, and she had no choice but to let it go." He resumed drawing circles on Harry's chest. "Tell me something else."

Gazing up at the ceiling, Harry said, "I was scared. During the war. I've been painted as some unrelenting hero, but I was scared. Terrified actually."

"Me too."

Harry turned to look at him. "I can't imagine. I was trying to hide from Voldemort, but you had him in your home. You had nowhere to hide. Tell me something I don't know about you."

Draco thought a moment. His life seemed unremarkable compared to Harry's.

"Aunt Bellatrix tortured me after I failed to identify you at the Manor."

Harry gasped.

"It's all right," Draco told him. "I'm glad I didn't help them. It was the only way I could rebel."

"You risked an awful lot."

"I was lucky, though. My mother stopped her before she could do any permanent damage. Now tell me something a bit less morbid. Maybe something that doesn't have to do with the war at all."

"I had possession of the Deathly Hallows. Not all at the same time, but still."

Draco laughed. "Tell me something real."

"They are real. As a matter of fact, I still have the cloak. I used the Elder Wand to repair my wand, after it broke. I dropped the stone somewhere in the wood."

"You're taking the piss." Draco's eyes closed and he draped a leg over Harry's.

"No, I swear."

"Why haven't I ever heard about this then?"

"Only Ron and Hermione know. Shacklebolt knows about the wand. I had to turn it over to the Ministry."

"You're serious?" Draco's eyes briefly opened.

Harry nodded, then yawned. "Sorry. I'm knackered."

Draco couldn't help yawning himself. "Tell me something else." He yawned again.

"Mm, I can't think." Harry's eyes began to drift closed. "Besides, it's your turn to tell me something about you."

Draco was quiet for a while, and Harry thought he may have fallen asleep. Harry himself was on the verge of nodding off when Draco finally spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I think I'm falling in love with you."

Me too