Things were both better and worse for Draco the next couple of days.

He and Harry were closer than ever, a newfound understanding alive between them. As long as they had each other, everything would work itself out. The future was a blurry mess, but the present was theirs. And that was a beautiful thing.

What was worse was the fact that Pansy was beyond her typical angst and spent most of her time shooting death glares in his direction. Thankfully, the rest of the Slytherins were at bay... for the moment. Blaise had them all reluctantly trusting him, but he could tell their loyalty was transparent at best. It was only a matter of time before they'd all turn on him.

...but isn't that what he technically did to them the second he'd switched sides? He supposed he couldn't really blamed them. Slytherins were about self-preservation, and Draco couldn't hold that against them. Just like he couldn't blame himself for leaving.

On the day that marked five left, Draco found himself surrounded by quiet whispers at the Slytherin table. He'd finished his lunch, sitting there awkwardly as no one cared to speak to him. Blaise was caught in a heated debate with Nott that he didn't care to listen to. The rest were discussing softly amongst themselves with the occasional glance shot in his direction. It looked as if Blaise's persuasion was wearing thin, and Pansy smirked vindictively. All at once, Draco had had enough.

"Alright, arseholes. You don't want to speak? Fine. You can all sod off."

With several dropped mouths and glances his way, Draco picked up his things and stalked across the hall... right up to the Gryffindor table.

There was an open seat between Harry and Seamus, and Draco took it upon himself to sit as if he'd been doing it everyday for years.

He slipped his bag under the table and helped himself to a bit of treacle tart. Without a word, he took a bite and glanced up to see all of Gryffindor, and most of Slytherin, staring in his direction.

Mouth full, he muttered a quick "What?" And Harry couldn't help himself. He burst out with a loud guffaw, the laugh resonating from deep within his belly. With all of the darkness invading their thoughts and actions as of late, something as simple and yet so bold as Draco sitting at a table full of Gryffindors was refreshing and exhilarating.

Harry wiped tears from beneath his glasses and placed an inviting arm around Draco's shoulder. "Welcome to the greatest table of the Great Hall, Draco. I see you've found the dessert."

The rest of the Gryffindors seemed to relax at Harry's acceptance; if he thought it was okay for a Slytherin to invade their midst, maybe it wasn't so bad after all. Members of the DA hardly batted an eye after the initial shock wore off, remembering that Malfoy and Harry had more than made up in the recent past.

The Slytherins were the last to drop their gazes, mouths hanging as wide as their eyes. Pansy's face was scrunched up into a grimace so ugly that he'd never seen her wear it before. Blaise shook his head disappointedly, having already tried to vouch for him once. The funny thing was, however, that Draco no longer gave a shit.

He no longer cared about their stares or their whispers or the fact that at least one would probably leak the fact that he was hanging out with a bunch of Gryffindors to his father. He'd already covered his arse as much as he could, having claimed that he was trying to befriend Harry for his grand scheme that night in the fireplace. He'd miss the Slytherins, sure, but Draco no longer missed who he used to be. And that alone made it easier to move on.

Ron didn't object to Draco's presence but carried on a conversation with Hermione that purposely didn't include him. Harry grasped his hand beneath the table, whispering things like "I'm so proud of you," and "Don't worry about your housemates; they're just jealous." When Draco shook his head lovingly, a playful smirk upon his lips, Harry leaned in to whisper once more.

"They're jealous of the things I'm going to do to you when we're alone." Draco's eyes widened as he almost choked on treacle tart. Coughing violently, Harry laughed to himself and handed Draco a glass of water. The balance of the universe had definitely shifted, the prince of Slytherin perched bravely amongst lions. Harry noted the twisted irony with pleasure and wondered if this universal imbalance is what they'd needed all along to win.

Draco's confidence was swelling, shifting and expanding into a smile that was plastered across his face. He had spent the greater part of his lunch in territory that no Slytherin had dared to tread before. Furthermore, the lions had seemed willing enough to accept his presence amongst their pride, and it was nice to not be spurned or shunned. It had been, in fact, the most accepted Draco felt in years.

What was even more liberating was the complete lack of care Draco now felt resting in the area of his brain that had previously caged the monster. No more haunting paranoia, lashing out tendencies, or the overwhelming and insatiable crave for turmoil.

Draco walked peacefully next to Harry, a weightless buzz carrying him along his own personal high. He hadn't noticed how heavy life had become until he felt himself quit giving an absolute fuck. He had reached his breaking point at lunch that day, the small and insignificant whispers of his fellow Slytherins grating on every frustrated and fraying nerve. Their loyalty was rubbish, a quick and fleeting proclamation that didn't depend on time. He'd known Pansy for most of his life, and yet, she'd questioned his intentions ruthlessly. Something about that moment, where he'd inevitably and perhaps quite stupidly snapped, had set him free.

So what if Lucius Malfoy became ill-informed of his apparent relationship with the Gryffindors? He'd come up with some poorly framed excuse that would last another 5 days. And then, it wouldn't matter, now would it? He could be gay, hell, he could be gay with POTTER and it would make no difference. The Dark Lord would still want his head on a stake.

And, strangely, this thought no longer gave him the urge to tuck his tail and run. He was Draco GodDamn Malfoy, for fuck's sake, and he wasn't going down without a fight. He'd spent his entire life cowering, beaten and bruised by the man he knew to be his father. There was absolutely no need for him to die that way. He smirked to himself mid-thought. Maybe some of that Gryffindor courage HAD rubbed off on him after all. Either way, he'd never been more ready to stand for what he believed in, and for the first time in his life he felt a sense of purpose settle comfortably within the marrow of his bones.

His good spirits were a clever match to Harry's, who could sense Draco's feather lightness like never before. The feeling was foreign, resonating between the two of them freely.

"Off to Arithmancy, you go, then." They paused in the middle of the corridor, this particular spot a midway point between Draco's and Harry's last classes. Without so much as a glance in any direction, Draco placed his hands on each of Harry's biceps and gently pressed a kiss to his lips. Startled, he jumped slightly but found himself unable to move regardless. Draco's lips were intoxicating; there was no resistance here.

"What's gotten into you, love?" Harry smiled, noticing after the fact that, incidentally, they were alone.

Draco's face was serious, but there was a twinkle in his eye that conveyed his newfound hope. He ran a palm along the anterior surface of Harry's chest, vision focused upon his while subtly biting his lower lip.

"I'm done, Harry. Isn't that wonderful?" He smiled wildly, vague in his answer but uncaring. Harry shook his head with a face that was puzzled but excited and grateful for whatever the hell had made Draco so lighthearted. Merlin knew that if anyone deserved to be carefree or happy in his own right, it was the boy before him. Before he could ask anything further, Draco had already pressed a peck to his cheek and was waltzing in the direction of his next class.

"Meet me after class, yeah?" He turned back while he walked, white teeth gleaming into that perfect smile. Grinning stupidly, Harry shook his head and recognized just how deep he'd fallen into this. Smug at the swooning response that was undeniably plastered across Harry's expression, he lightly turned back and headed down the corridor.

Harry stood there for a while, hypnotized by Draco's undying charm that followed him around the corner ahead. Chuckling softly, he finally made in the opposite direction for McGonagall's Transfiguration class. What a stupid, wonderful, perfect git he'd claimed as his own. That blonde prat just wouldn't leave his mind.

Two failed attempts at transfiguring a candle into a lantern and one half successful Seamus burning himself on the wax later, and Harry was waiting peacefully for Draco beneath a tree overlooking the lake. He propped himself against the bark; it was a bit uncomfortable and scratchy but he didn't mind much. Things in general seemed to be more tolerable today. Closing his eyes, he tilted his head back and enjoyed the quiet sounds of the lake: water lapping at the bank in a smooth, shallow tide; leaves rustling above his head in a shy, restless wind; footsteps- there were footsteps now, and he sprung suddenly to search for the source. Not far ahead was the git himself, sauntering over in an ethereal fashion that only enhanced his angelic demeanor.

He approached delicately, an apple in one hand that he raised to his lips. As he reached Harry, his mouth curved around the bite into an unintentionally seductive smile.

"Hey, you." Harry scooted to the right, providing Draco the space to sit next to him. He happily obliged, perching himself against the tree without any space between their thighs. He handed the apple to Harry, who mouthed a rather large chunk.

"How was transfiguration?"

"Good. Candles to lanterns... lots of hot wax. Big messes." He spit between chews in a way that was barely understandable. Draco giggled, aware of just how cute his boyfriend was with his mouth full. His mind traveled somewhere inappropriate, and he felt himself blush.

"What...bout...arithmancy?" Harry had taken another bite, cheeks loaded to the brim.

"Excellent. Would you believe me if I told you that I beat Granger on today's exam?" Draco smirked as Harry felt some of the apple fall from his mouth.

Draco laughed out loud. "Don't act so shocked. It was only by a couple of answers. But still!"

Harry swallowed with an audible gulp and turned his head to face Draco. "I always knew you could out-Granger Hermione." He chuckled as Draco shoved him playfully.

Within the next few microseconds, Harry had bounced back from the push and, somehow, their lips had locked. Harry tilted his head some degrees and parted his mouth, allowing Draco to slip his tongue softly inside.

"Mmm." A gentle groan escaped Draco's throat, butterflies fluttering throughout. Harry smiled into the kiss, and Draco returned the sentiment as he placed a hand on the side of Harry's jaw. He massaged his thumb gently against Harry's cheek, causing a shudder to run down his spine in response. After a moment, they separated, and a seriousness settled in the air between them like a heavy dust.

"It's nice to see you not give a damn, Draco. As messed up as that sounds." Harry's tone was solemn, truthful.

"I know. This is the first time in my entire life I've felt so free." Draco stared across the lake, contemplating memories of fear and fire. There was silence before Harry bravely treaded waters he wasn't sure Draco was ready to wade through.

"Have you heard from your mother?"

Draco's gaze remained unchanged, lost along the horizon. "No."

More silence. Harry was unsure of what to say next, or how to console him. He knew that Draco cared for his mother deeply, even if she had mistreated him in some way.

"My mother has made her own choices. As much as I want to, I can't help her. At the end of the day, she will stand by my father. And there's nothing I can do about that." He turned his head to meet Harry's studying expression.

"I'm sorry, Draco. I'm sorry that things had to be this way for you." Harry's concern was genuine, but he wasn't sure how to come across that way.

"Don't be sorry for me. We have a war to win. You've got enough of your own problems to be sorry for me." Draco had never taken much for pity, and, while he wasn't angry, there was no desire for sympathy from anywhere within his being.

"You're wrong." Harry's voice had a sharp edge to it, and Draco's stomach immediately lurched. "You don't have problems. I don't have problems. WE have problems, Draco. It's not just 'you and I' anymore. It's US." He paused, picking a blade of grass from the ground beside him and tearing it into pieces. A nervous, scatter-brained habit, no doubt.

"I'm sorry." Harry looked up to find Draco's gray irises burning into his own. "I didn't think. You're right." They stayed like this for a while, eyes locked in a stare that held more than just forgiveness.

The corner of Draco's lip twitched into a wry smile. His eyes softened from hard steel into cloudy gray skies.

"Although, if I may say so, OUR only real problem is how long it's been since..." He picked up a hand and lightly rested it on Harry's inner thigh. Slowly, he slid his palm superiorly, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the school uniform. Harry shuddered, unable to contain his own longing for Draco's touch. His glasses slid awkwardly down the bridge of his nose, a clumsy reaction to the sudden jerking of his body.

Draco chuckled, a light and airy sound that reflected his recent liberation. Removing his hand from its suggestive position, he grasped the frames lightly and shifted the glasses to balance in their proper place.

Harry laughed nervously, cheeks flushing pink. "You're, um, right," he responded steadily, "that is a problem."

Draco's grin beamed with the light of a thousand suns. Without judging their surroundings, He thrust himself onto Harry and joined their lips in a hard, urgent lock that took his breath away. Harry's back was scraping against jutting bark, but he didn't mind one bit as Draco poured over him. With a knee on either side of Harry's legs, Draco was leaning forward and propping himself on one palm; the other was wrapped in locks of black hair. Slytherin robes flushed with Gryffindor, Black fabric draping the ground and hiding any physical evidence beneath. Satisfied, Draco pulled back and replaced himself next to Harry.

"Are you trying to kill me, Malfoy? I might die from the tension alone." Harry rested his head against the tree, attempting to persuade his thoughts to less arousing subject matter.

Draco laid his palm atop Harry's pronated one, resting his own head against his shoulder.

"I guess old habits die hard." He muttered playfully, and he heard Harry's snicker from above him.

"Draco Malfoy, marks my words. You will forever be the death of me."

Draco exhaled peacefully, enjoying the calm warmth that was being with Harry. "Well then, I guess that means we have forever."

Harry smiled, and from his shoulder Draco couldn't see the promise that was painted across emerald eyes. They felt hot and watery, as if he might cry but instead he felt an extreme sense of pride and of grateful desire.

"Forever."

Some meters away and slightly out of sight, there was a rustling of grass and a soft "pluck" as she picked another daisy. She was hoping to gather enough for a crown, as she believed the white petals would contrast beautifully against Ginny's red hair.

"Luna, love. There's more over here!" The Weasley herself gestured her forward, and she skipped excitedly in her direction. Luna's face lit eagerly as she noticed the bright array of white daisies surrounding Ginny.

"They're perfect!" She squealed, bending to grasp another. Ginny blushed. She loved it when Luna was like this: here, in nature, where she was unbelievably raw and just so beautifully Luna. Her blonde curls were restless in the drifting wind, and Ginny couldn't help but fall a bit harder.

When she lifted her head to gaze affectionately at the ginger, Luna noticed something not far ahead. Beneath an oak tree, just adjacent to the lake, was a meld of black robes. She cocked her head curiously, observing keenly the motion occurring before her. It was two people- kissing perhaps? She squinted, stepping a bit closer as Ginny tried to follow her gaze.

"What are you looking at, Luna?" She questioned patiently, placing a hand on her shoulder.

All of a sudden, Luna's face brightened and beamed excitedly. She let out a shrill gasp, happily bouncing from foot to foot as she realized just what- and whom- was ahead of her.

"See, Gin?" She pointed a finger at the two boys. "I told you we weren't the only ones!"

Ginny lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she too began to unravel the mystery before them. When the blonde removed himself from the other figure and sat nearby, Ginny's other hand cupped her open mouth. Recognization kicked in immediately.

"Oh, Luna!" She cried. "You were right. We're not as much an anomaly as I thought."

"Aren't they just perfect together? I never thought I'd see the day that those two would overlook the past. And yet, here they are. It's just beautiful, isn't it?" Luna's airy realization hung between them, causing Ginny's heart to skip a beat. She smiled softly, placing a hand around Luna's waist.

"You're beautiful." The words were a whisper, hushed softly against Luna's neck. Just as delicately, a pink tinge creeped along the surface of Luna's cheeks. She turned humbly to face the redhead, blue eyes twinkling with affection. Her response was a graceful peck on the cheek, causing Ginny's freckles to blend rapidly into a bright crimson.

Luna raised a single white daisy and tucked it behind Ginny's right ear. "Oh, yes," she stated with a grin. "Daisies on you are just perfect."