Author's notes: Big thanks to Sansa for the thorough beta job and helping me navigate this thorny path on which the boys now find themselves.

Also, thank you to all for such lovely reviews. You have no idea how much encouragement they give me and how much I enjoy getting every one of them.

Of course, these characters aren't mine—they belong to J.K. Rowling. I promise, I'm not making any money from this, either.

Chapter 22:A Matter of Survival

The morning sun crept over the horizon as Harry made his way to visit Moraea. He needed a place to think and something to do other than stare at Draco while he slept. Draco. The thought of him produced a delightful lurch in Harry's stomach. Caught in his thoughts, he nearly lost his footing as he tripped over a rock. He laughed, the sound giddy and nervous. He couldn't stop thinking about Draco, or the fact that Draco had kissed him just five hours prior. They'd kissed. Draco had kissed him. Another delightful lurch and Harry nearly lost his footing again. He was smiling like a loon, like a girl probably would after meeting someone "dreamy," but he found he didn't care. Nothing had felt as right as kissing Draco. It was everything he thought a first kiss was supposed to be—a little sloppy, but magical all the same.

Harry let himself into the stables, his eyes lingering on the post that he'd leaned against while Draco kissed him. Moraea snorted and whinnied and stamped one of her hooves. She was restless. Like Harry.

"Morning, girl. I brought you some apple."

Moraea tossed her mane, as if to say, "Of course you did, you silly boy. You wouldn't dare come without bringing me something yummy."

Harry slipped into her stall, grabbing a curry brush along the way. Moraea flipped her tail and whickered.

"You're spoiled, you know that? I bet you think you deserve a good brush."

Moraea nudged Harry's shoulder with her nose.

"All right. Brush first, though, apple later."

Harry let himself get lost in the rhythmic motion and sound of the curry brush combing through Moraea's coat. His thoughts returned to the night before, to the kiss. He had never considered kissing another boy. Of course, four months ago, he hadn't really thought about kissing girls, either. The whole concept of physical intimacy was foreign to him. He'd assumed that the reason he never got as excited as Blaise and Ron on the nights before Cottage parties was because he hadn't yet experienced the full effect of a Collenton girl's feminine charms. Now he figured it had far more to do with the fact that they were girls, or more to the point, that they weren't Draco. His stomach lurched again. He smiled.

Later, while feeding Moraea her apple, Harry wondered if kissing Draco made him gay. He'd not thought about that, not really. Was he gay, in that he liked boys in general, or was it just Draco? He gave Moraea a good pat on her left flank and left the stall. He sat down and leaned against "the post," deciding that some empirical research was necessary.

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and let himself drift. He concentrated on the way Draco made him feel, filtering out everything else other people said was "proper." He thought about the kiss with Draco, the way his tongue darted into Harry's mouth, the way his thumb caressed Harry's cheek. Heat suffused his skin and that pleasant lurching he'd experienced earlier became a constant roll of arousal. His had slipped into his trousers, moving up and down his penis. God, he wanted to wank. Remembering the way Draco had commanded the kiss, but how vulnerable he'd looked after, Harry's hand gripped his penis harder. He moaned and let his head fall back against the post. Wanking had never felt so good. He now understood Ron's incredible preoccupation with it. He closed his eyes and let himself go.

&&&

Harry woke with a start. He was still in stables. He looked down and saw that his hand was covered with sticky ejaculate. Christ, he'd wanked and fallen asleep. He was officially an idiot. Frowning, he cast about for a clean cloth, and leaned over to grab one from a nearby linen bin. He shook his head and cleaned himself up.

"Well, that was successful," he muttered to himself as he looked for a place to hide the soiled cloth. He hadn't accomplished anything he'd meant to. He already knew he liked Draco. The whole point of his "research" was to figure out if he liked other boys.

After he was comfortable again, he closed his eyes and ran through the list of boys he knew. Blaise. Harry smiled and cocked an eyebrow. There was a definite stirring, but nothing significant. Ron. Nothing. But Harry had never had a thing for anyone ginger-haired. Neville. A laugh escaped. Okay, not interesting in Neville, but only because he was Neville. Other faces and bodies whirled past, each provoking unique responses, but it was when that boy from Harry's old secondary school popped into his head that he knew he was gay.

His name was Raker. Harry was certain that was the boy's last name, but it was the only thing he answered to. He had long brown hair that he kept tied back, a silver skull in his right ear, and a tough swagger that Harry coveted. Harry admired the way Raker never let anyone pull anything over on him, the way he talked to the teachers, and the way he handled girls. Harry had caught him kissing a girl one afternoon. He'd pushed her against the brick wall and had her head cupped with his large, rough hands. Harry just knew his hands were rough. Raker's leather motorbike jacket crinkled with every move and brushed across the girl's throat as he leaned down and kissed her.

Harry imagined himself against that brick wall, his face cupped in large, rough hands, and the way the cool leather would feel brushing against him. As phantom lips descended, Harry felt himself begin to harden again. A lazy smile curled across his face. Harry liked boys.

"What's got you smiling so early?"

Harry jumped, startled by Draco's voice. "You scared me. When did you get here?"

Draco shifted his weight. "Just now. I woke up and you weren't there, so I thought . . ." he shrugged, as if this conveyed everything. "What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"What about?"

"You, mostly."

Draco shifted again and rubbed his hands on his jeans. He nodded.

"You okay? You seem nervous," Harry said.

"I—I kissed you last night."

"Yes. I remember. That's what I was thinking about, actually."

"You were. What, uh, what were you thinking?"

Harry leaned forward, delighting in Draco's nervousness. He liked that he could affect Draco so. It made him feel powerful and attractive. Confident. Harry never felt confident. "I was thinking about how much I liked it."

"Really?"

"Course."

"You're not weirded out by it or anything?"

"Should I be?"

"We're boys, Harry. Boys don't usually kiss boys."

Harry's stomach lurched again, though this time rather painfully. His first instinct was to lash out, to defend himself, but as he was learning, that wasn't always the best way to go about things. Instead he thought about what Draco said. He thought about how hard Draco strived to be like everyone else, to be normal. He looked Draco up and down, again noting how nervous he was. Harry cocked his head to the side. "It's okay, Draco. Really. Just because it's unusual doesn't make it bad. Er, did you like it?"

"Course I did. I told you that. I just . . . Jesus, Harry, everything is turned upside down."

"I know. I was just thinking about what all of this means."

"Yeah? Come up with any answers?"

"Yeah. I like boys better than girls. And—and I like you best of all." Harry tensed, afraid of how Draco might react. Draco thought kissing boys was terrifying? Try putting your heart out there for anyone to come by and squish it to bits. That was terrifying.

The corners of Draco's mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. Harry relaxed and patted the floor next to him. "I was in the middle of an experiment. Want to join me?"

Draco walked forward, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "What kind of experiment?"

"I was trying to figure out if I was gay, or if I just liked you."

"Oh yeah? How'd you figure it out?"

"I imagined kissing another boy." Harry laughed at Draco's growl. "You should try it."

"I really don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because."

"Because, why? Because if you're not supposed to kiss boys, you shouldn't think about kissing them, either?"

"Something like that. Why are you okay with this? Did you know before? Did you just not tell me, or something?"

Harry shook his head. "Had no idea. It doesn't change who I am, though. If anything, it makes me more me, I guess. And I've never really fit in." Harry shrugged. "I'm used to being, uh, unusual, I guess. I don't mind it, especially if I've got someone to share it with."

Draco scratched the back of his neck. "I'm still trying to figure it out."

"Me too. I just . . ." Harry shrugged again. "I guess I don't see it as such a bad thing."

"It's not that I see it as a bad thing. Maybe I do. I don't know. It just . . . I never thought . . . I'm not even sure--"

Harry grabbed Draco's hand and gave it a light squeeze. "I was picturing this boy I knew at my old secondary school. He had long brown hair that he kept tied back. He always wore this old leather jacket. I was picturing what it would have been like to kiss him. I liked it."

Draco inhaled sharply.

"But not as much as kissing you."

Draco turned to him and stared for a long while.

Harry didn't look away—he met Draco's stare with a bit of challenge. Only when he felt Draco's fingers skim across his cheek did he look away.

"I thought I was the confident one."

"You are. Most of the time. I'm just . . . I dunno. More accepting, more adaptable, maybe?"

Draco nodded, still caressing Harry's cheek.

Neither said anything for a long while. They just sat there, staring at each other, touching furtively, until at last Draco said something.

"There was this man, at the airport when Mum picked me up at the end of last term. His clothes were beautiful and fit him perfectly." Draco snorted. "At the time, I thought I was just impressed with his tailoring."

"Can you imagine kissing him?"

Draco let his fingers drop. He closed his eyes. "I can. But--"

"Yeah?"

"Right now the only person I want to kiss is you. And I don't like you thinking about kissing other people."

"It was just an experiment, Draco. Just a test to see."

"Yes, well, experiment bloody well over."

"You're awfully possessive for someone who isn't even sure he wants to admit that he likes kissing boys."

"Perhaps I just need a bit more convincing."

Harry laughed. "Using my words against me, are you?"

"Of course."

"Maybe I still need a bit of convincing as well."

Draco smiled. He leaned in, snaking one arm around Harry's shoulders, while the other hand cupped the back of Harry's head. Harry leaned in as well, linking his hands at the small of Draco's back. The hesitation was longer this time. It was as if they were asking each other—with silence and stares and halting breaths—whether they wanted to make this journey. Somehow, kissing in the light of day was far more real than kissing in the middle of the night, surrounded by the glow of flickering gas lanterns.

Harry leaned in a bit farther first. Draco followed suit. Their lips touched and both groaned as they fell into the magic of their kiss. It was just as sloppy, just as perfect, as the night before. Caught up in what they were doing, they never heard the stable door open, or Narcissa's soft gasp.

&&&

Narcissa was very pleased with herself. She wandered through Severus's house, hoping to find someone with whom she could share her good news. It was still early enough that she'd thought the boys might still be asleep. Their room had turned up nothing but unmade beds and socks and trainers all over the floor. Severus wasn't in either, but that wasn't a surprise. Narcissa assumed that he was at the greenhouse, working on some ridiculous experiment or another, which meant that the boys were likely at the stables. Knowing Severus wouldn't care a whit about the fact that she'd secured coveted holiday invitations for the boys, Narcissa began the trek to the stables.

London had been a great success. She'd procured invitations for the boys to the Stanard holiday fete—a very lucrative acquisition, indeed. The Smythwick girl would be there as well as young women from other fine families. Narcissa's mind whirred with the endless matchmaking possibilities. The boys were nearly sixteen. It was time that they started getting serious about the business of romance. They had only a few more years to work out the kinks of courting before they would have to do it for real. She sighed, imagining little tow-headed grandchildren playing with their little black-haired cousins. There was so much that she wanted for Draco, and Harry as well.

The door to the stable was open. She heard voices inside—Harry and Draco's. Smiling, she stepped inside, ready to announce that she was home. She stopped short. What she was seeing didn't make sense. The boys were sitting on the floor. Harry sat against a post and Draco was . . . leaning over him. He had his hands on Harry's face, as if cupping it. Narcissa thought perhaps something was wrong with Harry, that he had something in his eye, but Draco shifted and Narcissa saw exactly what was happening.

Draco was kissing Harry. They were kissing. The boys were kissing . . . as if this wasn't the first time they had done so.

Narcissa's hand flew to her mouth. Tears sprung at the corners of her eyes. She backed away slowly, hoping they wouldn't notice her. When she'd made it outside, she stood there, staring at the doorway, wishing she'd never gone in.

Severus. She had to find Severus. He would clear this up. He would make sense of it. He would fix it.

&&&

"Severus? Are you here?"

Severus started at the sound of Narcissa's voice. He'd been dreading Narcissa's return. The odd waver in her voice told him his apprehension was well-founded. "I'm in the back."

A few moments later Narcissa came into view. Her face was tinged with grey and her mouth was set in a firm line. Severus suspected he knew why. "When did you get back?"

"Just this morning." She took a halting step forward. "I . . . no one was at the house. I assumed you were here and that the boys had gone for a ride. I wanted to talk to Draco and Harry both. I secured invitations for them to the Stanards' annual holiday fete."

"Did you find them?"

Narcissa bit her lip and nodded.

Severus tensed. "What did they say?"

"Can you explain any set of circumstances under which my son would be—be--" She closed her eyes, obliviously struggling to find the right words.

"Cissa?"

"They were kissing. Draco—he, he was kissing Harry. And Harry didn't seem to mind. What in the world is going on?"

Severus turned back to his lab table. He could feel the heat of Narcissa's stare.

"Why don't you seem surprised?"

"What?"

"You don't seem surprised, Severus. Why?"

Severus turned back, his sneer firmly in place. "Because I'm not."

"What? What do you mean you're not surprised? How—how . . . wait a moment, you knew about this? You knew and said nothing to me?"

"I suspected. I didn't know. Not until yesterday."

"What happened yesterday?"

"They had epiphanies of a sort."

"How do you know that?"

"Because they told me."

"And yet you didn't share your suspicions with me? Or their epiphanies? I'm Draco's mother. I have a right to know about these things."

"What would you have had me say, Narcissa? Done? Track you down in London and say, hello, I believe your son and his best friend are gay and that they fancy each other. Is that really what you would have wanted me to say?"

"Yes! No. I—I don't know." Narcissa paced across the greenhouse floor. "Did you at least counsel them against this?"

"Of course I didn't."

Narcissa stopped, her expression incredulous. "Have you lost your mind? You encouraged them to do this? Why? Why would you encourage them to do this?"

"I did not encourage them to kiss each other, I encouraged them to embrace who they were, not to hide from themselves."

"You irresponsible bastard! They're fifteen years old, or has that escaped your notice? They don't know what the hell they want, or what they're feeling. In my absence it was your job to keep them from making such a monumental mistake. How could you do this?"

"I haven't done anything except help two very confused boys understand their feelings. Their behavior towards each other was getting out of control. I've been watching this unfold over the course of the term and the situation had become intolerable. They were either going to kill each other or kiss. Between you and me, I much prefer them alive and gay, over dead and sexually frustrated. That's all there is to it."

"That's all there's to it? That's all? You make it sound like the world is one big gay parade, simply waiting for people to discover themselves and join in."

"That's ridiculous, even for you."

Narcissa said nothing for a long while. "You have to fix this."

"Why are you assuming that it's a mistake? I've never known you to be homophobic, Narcissa. Does it matter if your son is gay? Does it matter if Harry is gay?"

"That's not fair. You can't spring this on me and not expect me to react. And they aren't some experiment that you can watch and see what happens. You should have told me straight away that you suspected something like this."

"Perhaps I should have."

Narcissa pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "God, what is happening? This can't be happening."

"It is happening, I assure you."

"And now they're kissing."

"And now they're kissing," Severus echoed.

Narcissa sat in a nearby chair and stared at the floor. Severus returned to his lab table and stared at his experiment, not really seeing anything. The silence stretched so long that Severus was about to pick up his forceps and try again when Narcissa's voice cut through the quiet.

"How far has this gone?"

"What?"

"What have they done? Are they having . . . oh God . . . are they intimate?"

"With each other? Hardly. With others? I'm sure of it—at least on Draco's part. I don't think Harry's graduated much beyond a bit of heavy petting."

"Are you saying that my son is some sort of sexual aggressor? Are you claiming that he's pressuring Harry into this? How dare you suggest such a thing!"

"Calm down! I said nothing of the sort. Draco is experienced. Harry is not. Neither of them is experienced with other boys. As far as Draco pressuring Harry into doing anything, you should know how difficult a prospect that is. Harry does not respond kindly to demands."

"Oh, so now my son is demanding."

"Listen to yourself! You're not making any sense!"

"I'm sorry if I'm a bit distraught, Severus. You see, my oldest friend has just told me that my son is a homosexual and has romantic designs on his emotionally unstable, male best friend—something that my friend has known about, or at least suspected, for months now, yet failed to tell me. Forgive me if I seem a bit out of sorts."

"I am sorry. I . . . I didn't know if what I suspected was true. It's a difficult conversation to have, even if you're sure. This conversation should be proof positive of that."

"And yet you seemed to have no problems discussing it with the boys, one of whom is my son."

"I didn't want to say anything unless I was sure. If I'd been wrong--" Severus shook his head. "I'm sorry. I should have said something."

"Yes. You should have. But perhaps I wouldn't have listened. Perhaps I would have told you that you were delusional. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. What mother wants to find out that her son is in for life of cruelty and pain because others will see him as dirty, or evil, or at best, an oddity?"

"You don't know that. You don't know that any of that will happen."

"Yes, well I don't know that any of it won't."

Severus didn't have a response for that. Instead, he turned back to his lab table and straightened his tools and lab notes, letting the silence enfold them again. When it became clear that Narcissa wasn't going to say or do anything else for a while, Severus tried to begin his experiment again. He was soon lost in tincture analysis and absorption rates and had nearly forgotten that Narcissa Malfoy sat behind him, coming to terms with the fact that her son was gay.

&&&

Draco sat back against the hay bales stacked on the stable floor, grateful that they'd moved their activities to a more comfortable location. He looked over at Harry and grinned at what he saw. Harry's hair was mussed more than normal. There was a pink flush to his skin and his eyes looked a little glassy. Draco nudged Harry's shoulder with his. "No time for naps, Harry. You said you had to help Uncle Severus in the greenhouse this morning."

"Uh huh." Harry yawned and shuffled a bit closer so that he was leaning against Draco.

Draco smiled and took Harry's hand in his, letting his fingers trail across the back of Harry's hand. "I'm serious. The faster you get done, the sooner we can experiment some more."

Harry snorted. "Feeling a bit more confident about all of this, I see."

"I suppose. But you have to admit, all of this is a little strange, different, maybe. Had you honestly thought about being with a boy before last night?"

"No. But that doesn't mean there's something wrong with this. I mean, it feels too good to be wrong, yeah?"

Draco agreed. They sat in silence for a while, Draco watching his fingers trail along Harry's skin, Harry nestling closer and closing his eyes. Draco smiled at the idea of Harry taking a little nap half-sprawled across him. Draco found it ironic that he'd never once cuddled with a girl he'd been with, finding the idea abhorrent, but now he couldn't imagine anything more lovely than sitting with Harry while Harry napped. It was very strange the way the world worked.

"When are you going to tell your mum?"

"I thought you were sleeping?"

"No. Just resting."

"Oh."

"So, when?"

"When, what?"

Harry sighed. "When are you going to tell your mum?"

"I don't know. I hadn't given it much thought."

"What about tonight? After dinner, maybe?"

Draco's hand stilled. Panic seized him. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because we've just started this. I need time to get my head around it before I tell my mother. Besides, why does she even have to know?"

Harry sat up and blinked. "Because she's your mother. And I thought you were fine with all of this. Wasn't what all of that experimenting was about?"

Draco shuffled away, irritated. "Of course I'm fine with this, you stupid prat, but that doesn't mean I want to shout it from the rooftops just yet."

"Who's talking about rooftops? I'm just talking about your mother. Don't you think Professor Snape is going to tell her?"

Draco stiffened. He'd not thought of that.

"Even if he doesn't, what if your mother finds out some other way. Are you going to deny it?"

"No. No, I'm not. Look, I don't want to fight about this, okay?"

"I don't want to fight either, but I want to know that you aren't ashamed of me."

Harry tried to stand up and get away, but Draco was faster. Draco had to remind himself all of the time how skittish Harry could be. He grabbed Harry's face, cupping it with his hands, and kissed him hard. There was no hesitation and not an ounce of insecurity. Harry fought him at first, before relaxing into the kiss and fighting for dominance. Draco smiled as his tongue stabbed its way into Harry's mouth, making clear who was controlling the kiss. God, he loved the sounds Harry made in the back of his throat as Draco kissed him. When he was sure he'd gotten his message across, Draco let go and sat back, watching Harry's eyes flutter open.

"You can be very convincing when you want to be."

"It's the truth, Harry. I'm not ashamed of you. I'm not ashamed of this. It's just . . . I'd like to do things in my own time. If Mum finds out before then, then we deal with it. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

"As for school, though, I think we should, uh, well--"

"I understand. We'll have to be really careful, though. I'm not going to stop kissing you just because we don't want the rest of the school to know what's going on."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Harry smiled and stood, helping Draco to his feet at the same time. "Come on. Let's get the work over with so that we can, uh, play."

&&&

Severus was adding the last cutting of the batch he was working with when a shrill chortle rang out, ripping through the silence. Severus, startled, whirled around. "Cissa? Are you okay?" It had been over an hour since she'd come in and they'd had their row. Severus feared the stress of the day had finally gotten to her.

Narcissa waved away Severus's concern. "I was just thinking that I was glad to have told Mrs. Stanard that Draco and Harry both were looking forward to meeting her sons, and that they might enjoy a bit of sport over the winter holiday." Narcissa giggled, a bit hysterically in Severus's estimation. "I said . . . I said . . . Oh, Severus, I said that I was sure the boys would be up for a bit of a tumble. Can you imagine? A tumble. Thank God we weren't discussing that grueling hunt they do every New Year's, otherwise I would have been forced to say the boys were up for a rough ride." Narcissa giggled again before sobering in the next instant. "Oh, God. I've made my first homosexual joke. I'm joking about this." Narcissa pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. "This is really happening, isn't it?"

"Yes. It is."

"What now? What do I do?"

"That depends."

"I'm not going to disown him, Severus. I know that's what you're thinking. Nor am I going to vilify Harry. Lord knows what that child is going through now."

"If they wish to see each other?"

Narcissa sighed and dropped her hands to her lap. She shook her head. "One thing at a time, Severus. I'm not saying no, just . . . I need some time to wrap my brain around this. I'd sort of hoped my days of coping when the world upended in the blink of an eye were over."

"You cannot compare--"

"Can't I? The life I thought my son would have is dead, Severus—assuming what you say is true. It's very much the same, and I'll thank you not to presuppose how something like this would affect me. Frankly, you seem entirely too calm about this."

"I refuse to get hysterical over something that is immutable."

"Need I remind you, they are fifteen. They change their minds on the hour."

"Not about something like this, Narcissa. Not Draco and certainly not Harry."

Narcissa smoothed the front of her pants. "I know one thing, there will have to be rules. Lots and lots of rules. Especially of the 'not-sleeping-together' kind. Which means, of course, one of the boys will have to be transferred to a new room at school. Draco, I think. He's known the other boys in his year much longer than Harry and would have an easier time adjusting."

"Stop. There is no reason why either of them have to move."

"Are you insane? Randy teenage boys, attracted to each other, living in the same room, showering together, for God's sake, and you say there's no reason for either of them to move?"

"I'm just saying that--" Severus stopped at the sound of laughter and the slam of the greenhouse door.

"Oi! I told you I promised Professor Snape that I'd help. You helping will only make things go longer," Harry said, his voice drifting through the greenhouse, laughter ringing in his voice.

Footsteps sounded at the front of the greenhouse, turning at a large bank of palms obscuring Severus and Narcissa from the boys' view.

"Bollocks. I can help, and you know it. Besides, the faster we get done, the faster we can do other things," Draco said.

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know," Draco said in a singsong voice. He sounded as if we were about to elaborate, but both boys had come around the bank of palms and could now see Severus and Narcissa. Draco stopped short, almost falling as an unsuspecting Harry stumbled into him. For a long moment Draco and Narcissa stared at each other, each assessing the other. "Mother. When did you get back?" Draco's voice was shaky, his eyes wide. Harry, Severus noticed, had gone pale.

Narcissa looked at both boys, clear meaning in her eyes, as she said, "This morning. I couldn't find anyone at the house. I went to the stables."

It took longer than it should have for either boy to understand what was so important about those words. Harry gasped, catching on much faster than Draco. But it was Draco's reaction that made Severus want to rush over and assure him that everything was fine. He watched as terror and resolve warred across Draco's face, before settling into a bizarre mixture of the two.

"I see," Draco said, his chin tilted in defiance. "Are you angry? Have you come to cut me off? Do I disgust you? " he asked, he words faltering on the last.

Narcissa rushed to Draco's side. "Dragon, everything will be fine. It will be. I'm not angry. I promise. I love you."

Harry took a few steps back, his expression closing off and his arms curling around his torso. Before he could get away, Narcissa went to him and pulled him into a hug, telling him the same things, much to Harry's shock.

Narcissa stepped back. "Well. I suppose there is much to discuss. If you thought I'd embarrassed you with the talk before, Draco, you haven't heard anything yet."

"You can't be serious. Mum, we cannot have that conversation here. In front of Uncle Severus."

"Yes we can, and we will. We're all feeling our way, here, and we're going to figure it out together. That requires frank conversation about what . . . what you," Narcissa made gestures with her hands in an attempt to convey the words she couldn't quite say. "You know what I'm trying to say and the greenhouse isn't the place to do it."

"So, you're—you're okay with this? With me? And Harry?"

Narcissa closed her eyes. "This is not the life I would wish for you. I am not entirely convinced that either of you know what you want or that this is it. However, I am willing to discuss it with you, and remain open to the possibility."

Draco and Harry traded glances. Draco nodded, the movement hesitant. "Well. I suppose we should go back to the house." He turned and started to walk back to the front of the greenhouse. He stopped when he reached Harry. With a toss of his head that Severus knew so well, Draco grabbed Harry's hand. "This okay?"

Harry smiled, and it was as if the sun had suddenly shown him favor, Severus thought. "Yeah. Fine. Brilliant."

Draco smiled back and walked back to the house with Harry, hand in hand, with Narcissa and Severus trailing behind.

The walk back was quiet. The boys seemed tense, but Severus wasn't surprised. He wondered how much of the handholding was defiance and how much was simple comfort. Severus's gaze cut to Narcissa, who was unusually pensive. He feared what that would mean when they got back to the house.

"Narcissa--"

"I'll be fine. We'll all be fine. Somehow we will make it through this. We're Malfoys and Snapes and Potters—we are all survivors of a sort. If nothing else, we are that."

tbc