YAY! Thanks to DarkSnakeLordess; NightShadeHetalia; Ruby Silken Sun; Utsuru; KetsuekiNoAoiNamida for their brilliant reviews that made me smile and laugh. And a Happy Birthday to Simply Scarfy, even though their birthday was when I posted chapter eleven but still, *birthday glomp*

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Chapter 12

Draco got dressed nervously, the schedule for the day hitting him.

He started down the stairs thoughts flying around his head. Where would they go? Panic settled in his stomach. There were too many places to go. Too many memories. He stopped halfway down the steps and clenched the railing. What would Harry do once he found out what Draco did? What kept him surviving all those years? Would he hate him? Memories dragged to the surface, another time another world where noses were broken and spells cast in hatred.

They came pouring into the front of his mind now, snowball fights and ferrets and blind, blind hate and fire, everywhere, would Harry take him to the remains of the manor, watch him cry? Would he help him? Draco wasn't strong, he was only strong with the one he was so weak compared to? Did that even make sense? He couldn't go to the manor, he won't. Was there even a Manor left? Fire burned in his mind's eye and crazy laughter rang with the pounding of blood in his ears. His shoulder stung and throbbed and panic gripped his chest and he could barely breathe.

Harry found him frozen on the stairs. He had the railing in a white knuckled grip and his breathing was fast and shallow. His eyes were squeezed shut, fighting demons only he could see. His entire body quivered. Harry saw the signs of a pure panic attack and when he touched his shoulder, Draco jumped with a yelp and tripped backwards. Harry grabbed his hands so he wouldn't fall and pulled him into a gentle hug. Draco's anxiety grew and he struggled blindly, shivering and tears pricked his eyes. Harry winced at the stronger werewolf's struggle but didn't relent and sighed in relief as Draco calmed and went pliant. He still shook with silent sobs but his breathing was under control.

Draco's mind cleared and he got a firm grip on himself. Nightmares were shoved hazardously to the back of his mind.

He put his hand up to Harry's chest like to push him away. To cast space between them, a shield. He wanted to be strong, Dammit! He was never good enough for anyone, always doing something wrong. He felt hands petting his hair. He didn't stop them. He bit his lip and fought off a fresh wave of tears. Why did he keep fighting? He was always fighting. Fight for attention, for love, and for his life. Fighting for survival… and for revenge…

Draco didn't fight the tears this time. Nor did he fight Harry's embrace. He leaned into it and rested his head on his shoulder. Then scent calmed him and he hiccupped. Comfort had overtaken pride. He wasn't a Malfoy anymore…

What was he then?

Harry's voice jarred him. Harry. Not Potter. Not boy wonder. Harry. "Do you want to go? We could wait."

He lifted his head a little to show he was listening. The closeness was now making him a little uneasy. He studied the crook of Harry's neck and chewed his lip. "No." he finally whispered. "I'll go."

Comfort may have overtaken pride, but pride was still there. He was not going to be weak.

"Do you trust me?" Hot breathe brushed by his sensitive ear. Draco closed his eyes. He had lived here for months. He'd be lying if he said he wanted to be anywhere else. But whether it was the home or Harry's embrace, he could not tell. "Yes." He whispered back. And he let everything go. He allowed himself to hope that he would be ok. Harry wouldn't let him down, like Draco had let down so many others. He wasn't going to let Harry down either.

Harry apperated them with a small pop. It was a short trip, barley a second and Draco, dreading to know their destination, refused to let go of Harry's shirt or open his eyes. "Draco love" he shivered. "Open your eyes."

Draco did and blinked at the bright light. He felt the hum of magic around him and found they were just outside a ward. Regaining his sight, he gasped. It was a perfect summer day, and the grass around the grey stones was lush. The sun shone brightly, pleasantly, but it wasn't that, that made him grip Harry harder enough to bruise. (even if he didn't mean too)

They were in France. At the largest cemetery he had ever seen. They were at the oldest Malfoy cemetery, where the family first began.

Harry took his hand and led him through the wards. Vines crawled over the perfect Iron Gate and Draco saw that the cemetery wasn't exactly overrun with plant life but instead seemed to be part of it. Plant and stone blended seamlessly with each other, and the bright flowers flourished next to the marble.

Draco forgot to ask why he was here. He was in awe. Only the greatest of their Line was buried here. He was surrounded by countless inventors, generals and artists of old. All of them celebrities of their time, making a difference in the Wizarding world. There was a reason their family had powerful. There's also a reason there hasn't been a burial here in nearly one hundred and fifty years.

He dimly felt Harry lead him deeper into the maze, leading him to a small gravestone, white as virgin snow, tiny vines at the base, anchoring it to the ground and let him read the fine black inscription.

Draco Espoire Malfoy

Who always hoped

that one day a single note

could create a symphony

1980-1996

Draco blanched and realized that he was Here, in this place, they buried him, they cared, his parents buried him here. He was buried where only the Greatest were remembered. This was where he was but where he wasn't and… and…

Harry came up behind him and pulled him into his chest as they both stared at the stone. Harry rested his head on Draco's shoulder. "You may not be dead, but your still one of the Greatest"

And Draco had nothing to say to that.

When they got home after lunch, Harry was tackled. By Niki's evil seven-year old counter-part/partner in crime. His name was Teddy.

"Uncle Harry!" Draco wisely stepped back into a corner, but whether it was from the whirlwind of child or the dominant werewolf in the room even he didn't know.

"Hi Teddy." Harry grinned. "Hey Remus. Helping Hermione keep everything in order?"

"I may be making it worse." The man grinned. "Calm down Teddy, what did I say about behaving in other people's homes?"

The boy sighed, slightly deflated as he mouthed the rules. "Be polite and be quiet and don't track mud on the carpet."

Draco bit back a smile.

Lexie popped her head in the kitchen and grinned. She called over her shoulder. "They're back!" She firmly grabbed Draco from the corner and Niki ran in to get Teddy back. "We're playing exploding snap." Lexie informed Draco. "And I need you to come help me kick Damian's ego down a notch cuz he keeps winning." Dog meowed in agreement.

Niki whispered something in Teddy's ear and they were off, Dragon on a leash behind them.

"Harry" Hermione came around the corner. "This came for you while you were gone." She handed him a letter with a familiar seal and Harry willed himself for patience as he opened the Malfoy's letter. Surprisingly, it wasn't Narcissa's handwriting. It was distinctly more masculine. And incredibly abrupt.

"I'll be back in an hour." He said grimly and disappeared with a crack, leaving his concerned friends behind.

He rocked onto the front doorstep of the house and found that the door slid opened when he tried to knock. He took a few steps forward and not surprisingly, the door shut soundly behind him.

Lucius Malfoy stood in front of him; leaning on his cane, staring at a spot somewhere to Harry's left.

"Mr. Potter" Harry barley heard him. His voice was like his house. Disconsolate and empty. He fought the urge to shiver.

"You believe in second chances." It was a statement and Harry had the feeling he should not reply. "You run a House, a home for children who deserve second chances. I have never believed in second chances, but you, you, have given me a chance to fix what I did. And I want to thank you for it."

Harry blinked and his mouth opened a little bit in shock and he swiftly closed it.

Lucius sighed and bowed his head. "I don't know what my son's reasoning was, but I… I think I was the last push that drove him to his decision." Harry waited.

"He and I… had gotten into an argument. He had sent letters to me, only they were different than in the past. It was the end of his fifth year and with each letter it seemed he wanted to grow confidence but seemed to only become nervous.

The last letter he sent me was the one. He told me that he…" Lucius looked at Harry now, dead in the eyes, daring him to say anything. "He believed himself to be homosexual." Harry blinked in surprise –I mean wait what? Draco's gay?—but kept his face blank.

Lucius looked away and sighed. "I didn't reply, too shocked, angry, and the next night I was arrested.

I never had the chance to say I still loved him. We avoided each other to avert suspicion and weakness from the Dark Lord, and… that is why I believe I drove him there and I hope" Harry was helplessly pierced by his glare once again "that you treat him like you would treat any other and that you heal him to the best of your ability. I do not expect to see him any time soon, but you have my full cooperation. I have a second chance and I am going to see that I make things right."

The man proudly walked away, a slight fault in his stride. "You may see yourself out."

Harry stood there for a second and balked. Walking out, he went home.

In his study, Lucius watched the pictures spread out on the desk. "I am sorry, my son. I am so sorry."

And teardrops slowly fell to the earth.

Note that- Espoire = espoir. In French, it loosely translates to Hope. After all, Draco was the only thing his parents could be hopeful for when Voldemort was rising to power.