A/N: Hi there! I'm very, very sorry for not updating so long, this chapter was harder to write than anything before. Anyway, I'm really glad it's finished and I hope you like it...

And like each and every time, I send all my love to theghostinside, superioritycomplex144, but this time as well to Anakaraya Ravenclaw, hoperocks98 and RoibenJazz. Thank you all at least one million times, you make me so happy (:

'And you really did this all by yourself?'; Harry asked while piling mashed potatoes next to his roast beef, 'Without using magic?'

The brown-haired girl nodded, 'My mother taught me how to cook this …It just felt right, doing it the same way as she did.'

There was sadness in her voice and he regretted saying anything. Understandably, Hermione was still hurt by the loss of her parents, even though it clearly had been the best way to keep them save and she could still see them from time to time. In secret, the brunet wasn't so sure if this was a good thing since she had appeared even worse after each visit, reminded of the fact that they had forgotten ever having a daughter.

'It's delicious', he said quickly, smiling at her encouragingly.

'I've got to agree with Harry, it is quite good…Although I don't know much about Muggle food, of course', Draco agreed quietly, not looking all to comfortable when he felt everyone's eyes on him. Usually he wouldn't have minded, but here…after all he was supposed to make a good impression.

The group fell silent again, but the atmosphere was a little better, even if still a bit awkward, mostly because of the Weasley's hostile stares.

After a few minutes, Ginny, voice laced with false innocence, asked, 'Well, Malfoy, I haven't seen you since we've been in school together. How are you doing? And how are your parents?'

The gladness Harry had felt at first when the ginger had started talking to his former nemesis subsided in the matter of moments, only to be replaced by fury. Ginny knew that Draco's father had been sent to prison, he had seen it in her eyes when she had asked; the only reason for bringing it up had been hurting the boy in front of her. He never would've thought she could be so vicious.

The blonde male looked up, obviously surprised but calm and neither particularly angry nor offended, 'I am quite alright, thank you. It's been hard since my father's been sent to Askaban, but not unbearable. Still, because of this I do not know much about his state of mind; they only allow us to see him twice a year. And I'm afraid I won't be able to tell you much about my mother, although she mentioned being quite well in her last letter. She spends as little time as possible at the Manor now. It reminds her too much of what has happened, she says.'

He went silent and back to cutting his roast beef into small pieces, leaving everyone around the table stunned. None of them would've believed the boy would be willing to talk about what had happened to his family at all, let alone this freely, or without any evident anger in his voice. Even the brunet, who had listened closely, hadn't been able to track anything except for bitterness and sorrow in his tone.

They sat in silence for a while, no one knowing what to say, before Luna spoke up, her voice just the tiniest bit less dreamy than usual, 'But aren't you getting lonely, all by yourself?'

'Not really. I've got Harry coming over from time to time after all, and believe it or not, I actually managed to keep one or two of my friends from school.'

Ron muttered something into his butterbeer, which the blonde boy gladly pretended not to notice, 'And somehow I think that deciding for myself for once in my life, without being influenced might be a good thing, too.'
'Well', Hermione started after another pause, 'If someone would've told me one year ago that you'd sound mature at some point in your life, I'd have declared him mad. But obviously, they would've been right.'

'That's quite the compliment from your mouth, isn't it? Still, what can I say? Being despised by people you've never met for something you never really wanted, or even for something your parents have done, it brings out strange sides of people.'

She studied him for a moment, before obviously deciding he didn't expect her to pity him and smiled a little when she said, 'You really have grown, haven't you? And changed. By the way, have you already decided what you want to do from now on?'

For the first time during dinner, there was a small smile playing on Draco's lips, when he answered, 'Well, it's nothing more than a dream at the moment, but I'd like to become a potions master. I've already applied for an internship at a university in South Wales.'

'Really? That's brilliant! You always were quite good at it back in school, weren't you? Maybe Harry should take you as an example; he hasn't done anything at all since the war.'

'That's not true! I thought about what I want in the future and came to the conclusion that it's not being an Auror after all. And anyway, I still think that I have deserved taking a break for once.'

'Sure you do, but a whole year? I just still can't believe that you gave that up so quickly…', Hermione shook her head, 'In my mind, I always saw you and Ron being partners. And now he isn't going to try it either.'

'Hermione, you know that George asked me to help him out with the shop and that there is no way I could leave him alone after what happened to Fred.'

She sighed, then said, 'I know, I know. It's just, I would have liked to say my boyfriend's an Auror.'

'I'd have liked that, too', Ginny suddenly spoke up, letting her eyes linger on the brunet, 'And I actually always thought it was what you wanted. You know, fighting Death-eaters and making the world a better place.' While talking, she had fixated Draco, mouth contorted to a scowl and disgust prominent in her gaze.

Harry felt everything around him being drowned in anger as soon as he registered his girlfriend's words. For one second he was unable to speak at all, his throat tightening to the point of pain, before he choked through gritted teeth, 'I know exactly what you are suggesting and it is not, in any way-'

He stopped in mid-sentence because the fair-haired boy next to him had laid aside his fork and slowly started to slide his sleeve up, revealing a pale arm marred with black ink. Looking at the ginger girl, he spoke quietly, but with determination in his voice, 'You mean this, don't you? I know exactly what I am, and even better what I have been. There's no way I could ever forget, not even with the help of the most powerful magic there is, since I've got this to always remind me of my past failures. However, I refuse to let the Dark Mark decide what will become of my future.'

With that he fell silent, slid down his sleeve once more and returned to his food; no one else dared to speak, if they still could. There was something terribly shocking about him being so open about himself, and not one of the five knew how to react. But while it frightened the others, the blonde's willingness to speak so freely about his past did nothing but impress Harry, as well as confirm once more that this Draco drastically differed from the person he had known in school.

Also, as soon as the boy had revealed the Mark, there had been this completely absurd desire to reach out and trace the outlines of the tattoo.

He pushed all thoughts of soft, milky skin and delicate wrists away, concentrating once more on Ginny's actions. Knowing that the girl was far from excited to meet his new friend, he had talked to her about it the evening before, and she had agreed to treat the boy at least in a neutral way. This, however, was far from it.

All in all, her stance towards Draco and their friendship had changed dramatically, and Harry blamed Ron at least partially for it. While she had been supportive and understanding at first, her lips now curled in repulsion when the male's name was mentioned and she made it very clear she was not interested to hear even a word about his visits at the Manor. Whenever he told her he was to meet the blonde later, her face grew stern and she looked at him with a mixture of anger, sadness and disgust. And he found that he cared less and less about her opinion.

The next few minutes was spent in awkward silence, with only Draco seemingly unfazed. Ginny tried to initiate eye contact several times, but he refused to look at her. It was surprising that he wasn't disappointed that she had broken her promise, only angry, and that the fury wasn't hot and passionate, but instead cold and far less personal than it should have been. In fact, it was hauntingly similar to the way he had reacted upon seeing a 'Potter Stinks'- button on a fellow Gryffindor for the first time, or when Crabbe or Goyle had once again tried to pick up a fight (not the way he had reacted when Draco had, with him it had always been intense and fierce).

And then, suddenly, it all made sense: Without noticing, he had fallen out of love with Ginny, the girl he had been expected to spend the rest of his life with.

The realization hit him hard; his vision blurred, his hand, still holding the fork started to tremble and something inside his chest tightened painfully. Since the beginning of their relationship he had known that, if he should end it one time, his friendship with Ron and the entire Weasley family would be at stake. However, then everyone had declared that the both of them were perfect for each other, that they'd surely marry and at one point he had started to believe them, even if he didn't know how they could be so sure. It wasn't like with Hermione and Ron, they hadn't been friends for ages before getting together; actually they had never been friends at all.

And now he could see that, though they had become lovers, there had never been a friendship binding them together.

Some of the fear he felt had to have reflected on his face because Hermione was looking at him concernedly from across the table and Luna asked if he was feeling unwell. Of course he did only shake his head and did his best to smile, but he doubted he did succeed with convincing them. From his left, he could feel Draco's questioning gaze, but he did not dare to look back.

The rest of the dinner passed painfully slowly, with Harry wanting nothing more than bolt and hide in some quiet and isolated room to sort out his feelings, or more specifically, his lack thereof. However, instead he sat through the entire thing, complementing Hermione on her cooking once more and promising Luna to meet her for lunch three days later, before, after shooting Draco a questioning look, excusing himself and the other boy. He almost didn't dare bending down to give Ginny a quick kiss, for it felt as if his faded love for her was written all across his face.

Somehow he made it outside, followed by the fair-haired boy, who grabbed his hand and spun him around the second the door was shut behind them.

'What is up with you, Harry. I've never seen you like this, especially not in front of your precious friends.'
There was concern prominent in his voice and look.

'It's nothing…well, there is something, but I don't really want to talk about it', he corrected himself when it became clear the other wouldn't believe him, 'But anyway, what I wanted to ask you the whole time… How did you manage to stay so calm in there? I thought you'd kill them all.'
'What? Because of your girlfriend was –not very subtly by the way- trying to upset me? Believe me, I've heard worse things. And she was right after all.' He shrugged trying to look completely uninterested.

'She bloody wasn't! Sometimes I really, really don't understand you at all. I know for a fact that you never wanted to become a Death-eater, at least not because you believed in what they wanted. You told me you didn't, so stop making yourself look worse than you are!'

Harry had hoped the blonde would react with at least a small amount of anger, to take his mind off of Ginny, but Draco stayed completely calm, once again sliding the sleeve of his shirt down his arm.

'I know it, you do and maybe there are ten people more in this world who know it too, but that doesn't change that as soon as someone sees this' he pointed at the tattoo, 'They assume I was very much in favour of the Dark Lord taking over. Thus, they react the way they do and I can't blame them. It's the logical conclusion. So, there's no reason to be mad at the Weaselette because of this.'

This time, the brunet couldn't hold himself back, his mind on different things, raised his hand and carefully traced the outlines of the Dark Mark against his friend's pale skin.

'What are you doing?', Draco asked, voice confused and shocked.

Harry chose to ignore the question and continued to let his fingertips slide across dark lines.

'It doesn't suit you', he said instead, voice coming out more softly than he wanted.

'What?'

'It doesn't fit you; it just looks so wrong.'
The other boy looked at him strangely, but didn't pull away his arm when he replied, 'Does it, now?'

'It does…there's no way to remove it, I suppose.'

For a second, the blonde wanted to say something sarcastic, maybe even something mean, but then he saw the serious expression on his friend's face, and decided against it.

'There isn't.'

The Golden Boy looks up and there's something playful in his gaze, ' I know you're going to blame this on my damn hero complex again, but I wish I could make it vanish somehow.'

There was truth in the other's words, and because of it, Draco refrained from making a snide comment once more.

'I know', he stated simply, still not moving. The stroking on his arm had stilled, but a tanned finger still rested on the painted skull.

The touch was light and their eyes were fixated solely on each other, when suddenly they suddenly noticed that they should have let their arms sink long ago. They didn't, though and for a split second, there was something new in the air surrounding them; something sweet, tender and warm, something that surpassed everything they had felt for each other before. Unknowingly, they leaned in just the slightest bit, both heartbeats and breaths speeding up simultaneously.

The magic of the moment was broken when a car rushed by, sprinkling them with cold, dirty water and causing them to each take a hasty step away from the other, letting their limbs fall back into place.

Draco was the first to break the uncomfortable silence that followed. Clearing his throat he said, 'Anyway, I think I ought to get back to the Manor. See you around, right?'

The brunet just nodded, blinking dumbly when he watched his friend vanish into thin air.

When the platinum-blonde boy appeared in the middle of his living room, he was clutching his right arm to his chest. It felt as if Harry's touch had been burned into his skin; he could almost feel the soft strokes, the warmth of the other's fingertips. Sighing, he let himself fall back onto the next chair, as he willed his breathing to slow down again. He had felt something special back there, something which made his body tingle and his stomach to flutter, his hands shake and his heart pound so hard it hurt.

And it had felt so good, so real before that blasted car had brought him back to reality, while bringing back everything he had worked so hard to forget. And that meant that if Harry kept on touching him so casually, looking at him so fondly and smiling at him at every chance, it would get near impossible to conceal that he, in fact, was helplessly in love with the other boy.