I can't actually believe it, but it appears that I've managed to finally finish writing this chapter which is absolutely brilliant. It's been nearly killing me, and I almost mean that literally.

Anyway, I'm really, really sorry for taking so long to upload this, especially since it took so terribly long the last time as well. But since this is going to be the last regular chapter I wanted to make it a bit more...special, I suppose.I hope you can forgive me once more, and I promise I'll do my best with the epilogue.

And last but not least, I'd like to thank all the lovely people who put this story under their favourites and of course, especially theghostinside, ryohei-nya and superioritycomplex144 who left a review. You make me a very, very happy person.

When Draco woke up the next morning, the sun had long since risen, casting rays of light into the dark, unfriendly room and turning it warm and friendly. It wasn't something he was used to seeing- in fact the last time he had slept so long had been before the war and before the nightmares had started. It felt nice.

He sighed, stretching his arms and tentatively brought an index finger to his lips. The touch still hurt, mostly because he was rubbish at healing spells, always had been, but for once he didn't curse himself for his lack of talent, since the ache was the one proof he had that last night's events had been real. Heart fluttering at the mere memory, he scolded himself: Right now, with him still not quite awake and his entire face burning, it was not the right time to think about something as important as this. He stifled a yawn, heaving himself out of bed and made his way down to the kitchen.

The first time he had made himself breakfast without the help of houselves had been the first time his mother had disappeared from the mansion for several days. It hadn't been something of great importance, just something to take his mind off the concern for her, but he had found that the preparing had a soothing effect, almost as if through it, the mansion felt a little bit more of a home than a dungeon. And so he had continued doing it until it had become a habit which he didn't even want to break whenever his mother did show up.

Reaching the kitchen Draco walked to the sink and filled up the kettle in order to make tea, another little ritual of his: Black tea in the morning.
He could almost hear his mother saying Tea fixes everything, her smile barely hidden behind the rim of her cup. It didn't, of course, but the memory of days where he had still had a family to come back to in the holidays made things at least a little bit easier.

With a swat of his hand he dismissed all thoughts of his mother, refusing to break his good mood because of things he had already spent months feeling sorry for. Instead he focused on nicer things, better things while he fetched his tea and added just the slightest bit of milk. For example, he and Blaise were going to have dinner at a pub nearby tonight, where they served the best pork pies in existence. Or that the chances of getting that internship were not so bad…although there was one problem with that, too: Moving to Wales meant leaving Harry behind and although there was the floo network and apparating, putting such a distance between them felt wrong, felt dangerous, especially after yesterday night…

He groaned, setting his mug aside and burrowing his face in his hands. He didn't want to think about the other wizard, he really, really didn't want to, but still his mind suddenly flooded with pictures, sounds, memories, all somehow connected to the Golden Boy. And suddenly he decided that, while it definitely wasn't the perfect moment, it was probably as good a time to think about it as ever.

When he had met Harry, or rather when they had started not to hate each other's guts, he had, just like everyone else, assumed that The Boy Who Lived, hero of the wizard world, was as straight as a flagpole and head over heels in love with his girlfriend. However, when spending more and more time with him, he just sometimes noticed things which didn't quite fit with that assumption. At first he had blamed it on his own attraction to the other, but when months had passed it had gotten more obvious.

Sometimes it wasn't more than a glance or a touch which lasted just a moment too long and those he could write off as wishful thinking, but other times it was harder to explain, like the one evening when Harry had visited him and Draco had found him staring openly with something at least close to wonder and awe in his gaze. The blonde still couldn't get the image of his face out of his head; he had felt so naked under his stare, but somehow it hadn't felt awkward, it had felt right.

Or for example that the other wizard had stood up to his friend's on Draco's behalf, an incident which still made him feel all fuzzy and warm inside. Or the night of that bloody dinner where Harry had touched his dark Mark without so much as hesitation. That evening there had been enough tension in the air to make the air practically crackle with electricity; the kind of tension the ex-Slytherin had never before felt, only read about. It was hard to believe that Harry should not have felt at least a little of it as well.

Yesterday's events, well, they had been more than he had ever dared to imagine, and at the same time managed to fuel his hoped that maybe there really was more to come. And still…he couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea that someone like Harry might actually harbour romantic feelings for him. It simply felt like too much to ask and while he would've just asked if it had been anyone else, he couldn't bear to take the risk when it came to the Golden Boy and their friendship. The thought of losing what had developed between them was enough to cause his stomach to twist painfully.

A sigh escaped Draco's lips. The best would probably be to just wait and see.

Harry had gotten up hours earlier when it was still dark outside and the streetlights were tinting the walls of his bedroom a sickening yellow. He had slept horribly, if at all, no matter how tired he had been since the events of the last day had replayed themselves in his mind all night long; Ginny's desperation, Ron's shock and Draco's…he didn't really know what he had seen in the blonde boy's face, but then again, at the moment he didn't know about him at all. Something had changed between the two of them, and it confused Harry to no end.

Up until now he had never dared to let himself think about it, fearing what he might find (after all, everything was fine like it was, and as long as it stayed that way there was no reason to change anything) but the look when he had told him about the break up with Ginny had been registered as important in his brain.

There had been hope in his eyes, certainly, as well as some kind of longing which Harry couldn't quite place and a hint of sadness which made his heart ache when his thoughts lingered on it for too long. However, that hadn't been all. Apart from all that, Draco's gaze had been almost tender, warm, and…

All of a sudden he knew what it had been and why exactly he hadn't been able just to forget about it. What he had seen in his friend's eyes had been love.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe, how to move, even how to think, because suddenly it all fit, all the glances and touches and smiles. How could he not have noticed that before? How could he have been so blind while spending so much time with Draco?

It took a while before he managed to form a proper thought again, head still swimming with memories, which now seemed to have completely changed in meaning, beginning with their first meeting after the war (had there already been some kind of attraction which Harry had just failed to notice?), each visit and night out, ending with their conversation the night before. He felt lightheaded, his legs only carrying him to the next available chair before giving out under him.

It was too much, simply too much, but if he had been able to calm down for just a second he had noticed that, although his mind was spinning like crazy, there was less unpleasantness in his surprise, less terror than one would expect when finding out that a friend harbours a crush, a male friend nonetheless. And maybe, if he would have allowed himself to think about it a bit longer a picture would have appeared in front of his inner eye, just for a second, showing Draco and himself curled up on the sofa, sharing a cup of hot chocolate. Or, if he had followed this train of thought any longer, he would have felt the ghost of a pair of lips pressing against his own.

Still, he didn't and so there was only one thing in his head: The fact that, no matter what he would do with this new information, it would change everything, whether he wanted it too, or not and he loathed it. After all, it was all good the way it was, wasn't it? He groaned, letting his head fall into his hands.

The thing was, he didn't think he could cope with ruining another friendship, not now, not after he had lost Ginny and possibly Ron in the matter of hours and not Draco. It had taken them such a long time to finally overcome their differences and to take all that away again? It just felt unfair.

Another groan and slowly, tentatively, Harry got up again. He'd deal with it, of course, but he'd deal with it later.

He didn't dare to call his friend for ridiculous eight days.

It had been just like he had predicted, now he knew about Draco's feelings, their uncomplicated friendship had evolved into something much more complex, much more fragile, and it scared Harry.

In the end it was the blonde who made the first step, by simply appearing in the other wizard's living room one afternoon.

'Harry!', he screamed the second his form appeared, making the raven-haired male jump and drop the book he had been reading. His heart almost stopped; he'd been avoiding the other for more than a week and chances where that his friend now wanted to hear the reasons for that.

'Draco? What are you doing he-', he stopped mid-sentence to take in the scene in front of him. The blonde was flushed and breathless, hair askew and his gaze almost manic. There was something almost ethereal about him and Harry couldn't help but notice that his friend looked utterly gorgeous. For one second he stopped, confused about what got him thinking like this, but then the blonde started talking again, and suddenly he didn't care anymore.

'I've got the scholarship! I've got the scholarship!', Draco grinned broadly, waving around a piece of parchment. It already looked slightly crumpled, probably from the ex-Slytherin hugging it to his chest in his excitement or something similar, the raven-haired male thought and smiled back. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the other so happy and it made his own heart swell in his chest with joy.

'Really? That's wonderful!', he answered, although it was clear that wonderful was clearly a complete understartement.

'Isn't it?', another toothy grin, 'I never would have thought…'

'Oh rubbish. You deserve that. We both know that you've always been brilliant at potions.'

'I'm just so happy', Draco answered, bouncing up and down a little in excitement, ' I still can't quite believe it.' And with that, the former Death-eater took two, three steps and wrapped his arms around the other male, crushing him into a hug.

Harry let himself melt into the embrace, just like he had done the few times before they had hugged, but then, all of a sudden he tensed. It was different, just like everything was different now, no matter if he liked it or not and he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks as soon as he smelt Draco's shampoo.

'Harry? Are you alright?', the blonde asked, voice concerned and the raven-haired male wanted to hit himself for causing the cheerfulness to leave the other's voice.

'Yeah, of course', he lied, trying his hardest to will the blush down, 'Do you maybe want a cup of tea?'

He hurried out of the room without waiting for the answer, hearing the other hum a rather unconvincing 'Sure' towards his back. As soon as he was in the kitchen and had closed the door, he relaxed, but at the same time started scolding himself. Draco would have to be completely dumb as not to notice his strange behaviour and that was the first step in messing everything up, completely.

Letting out a sigh he moved to the counter and started heating up water. He just had to control himself better, act like he had when he was still convinced that there was nothing except for friendship between them.

Harry drew in a breath and forced himself to calm down. It would all be fine.

And really, the rest of the afternoon was decidedly less tense, less dangerous than the first few minutes of Draco's visit, and suddenly they found that while they had been chatting about moving, potions and Welsh food, the sun had begun to set.

'Oh, it's already that late?', the blonde exclaimed a bit sheepishly, 'I'll better bet gong…'

'No, it's fine', the Golden Boy interrupted absentmindedly, 'I like having you here. Why don't you just stay over for dinner?' Although the proposition itself wasn't too uncommon between the two of them, there was something off about Harry's tone, which the other male seemed to have noticed since there was just the slightest hint of confusion in eyes when he nodded.

'Yeah, sure. It's not as if I had someone waiting up for me after all.'

It was when Harry wanted to get up, to order food like a decent host, that his eyes suddenly got caught by a sight he couldn't turn away from anymore: While answering, Draco had shifted slightly so that the light coming from the street lit up his eyes and hair and turned them golden, made his cheekbones and eyelashes throw shadows over milky skin and his lips glisten where he had licked them before. He looked like an angel.

Without thinking he asked the one question which had been forming on his lips since his guest's arrival, only realizing he had really said it out-loud when he heard his own voice ring in his ears: 'When you go to Wales, will you still come here to visit?'

There was a moment of silence before Draco answered, slightly nervous and without looking at Harry.

'Do you…do you want me to?'

It sounded like the most important question he'd ever been asked.

'Of course', he whispered, barely able to find enough strength to get the words past his lips. The former Death-eater nodded slowly and then there was silence.

A car passed by, but it didn't matter since Harry couldn't, wouldn't hear anything other than the other's breathing mixing with his own. He felt himself being sucked into the same kind of trance he'd been in after the dinner at Hermione's and that one evening, staring into the fireplace, but he found that he did not want to break whichever spell was at work, for it just felt so right.

There was a slight creak when Draco shifted a bit closer so they were only inches apart anymore, the movement causing a strand of silky hair to fall into his face, obscuring his eyes and the Golden Boy lifted his trembling hand to brush it aside. It was meant as a short, completely platonic gesture, nothing to be worried about, but when Harry's fingertips touched the warm, soft skin of the blonde's cheek he couldn't bear to pull them away anymore. Draco looked back at him, eyes widening, but staying completely still as if he was afraid of breaking the spell and the other's stomach filled with warmth.

Without thinking, he let his fingers travel downwards, brushing across Draco's cheekbones and the corner of his lips before finally cupping the blonde's face. A gasp which no one knew the source of and the ex-Slytherin leaning into the touch, his own heart swelling in his chest and the feel of another's breath on his skin and the only thing Harry could do was to lean in and brush his lips over the other male's.

Their kiss, their first kiss, was short and chaste, more of a promise than anything else, but perfect in its own way. When the Golden Boy pulled away (just an inch as not to lose the connection completely) there was a smile on both their faces and he found that maybe, not all change was for the worse after all. For suddenly there were images, sounds and memories flashing in his mind, letting him finally see what he had so conveniently ignored for months.

He had always known that his relationship with Draco differed from the ones with Dean or Ron, but he had always believed this was because they had been enemies for so long. But now it all made sense, because it went deeper than that, much deeper. Deeper than it had ever been with Cho or Ginny, because this wasn't based on physical attraction but the fact that they just fitted without having to do anything for it. And then, Harry realized that somehow along the way he had fallen in love with Draco.

It was a strange thought at first, but at the same time it made his mind go blank and warm and dizzy, senses tingling because he suddenly was aware of every point of contact between him and the other

Draco must have noticed the quickening of Harry's breathing because his looked changed to a worried one, fine lines showing on his forehead and he pulled away a bit further.

'Are you alright?', he asked, voice quiet and slightly breathy and it took a moment until the other could speak again.

'Yeah, I'm fine. It's just…', Harry's voice trailed off, because how could he put something into words which he had just found out himself? In the end, mainly because Draco didn't look as if he believed him and in that very moment he would've done anything to see the blonde's smile again, he said it as simple as he could.

'I've just realized that I have been in love with you for a long time.'

It worked, because as soon as Draco had comprehended the word's meaning (Harry could practically see how the other's brain worked, figuring out if the other really meant it) a smile tugged at his lips, slowly but surely, until it was stretched across his whole face.

'Really?', he asked, but Harry knew that it was just because he wanted to hear him say it again.

'Yes. Really.'

The smile grew even bigger and the other male just knew it had to hurt, but then Draco replied, 'That's good. Because I think I have been in love with you since an even longer time and I don't know what I'd do if you'd ditch me now', and he couldn't care anymore. Couldn't care about anything, because nothing mattered except that Draco loved him back and he felt a smile similar to the one on the blonde's face appearing on his.

And because the other still looked so beautiful, and he wanted to, and most of all he was allowed to, now, Harry leaned forward and kissed Draco again.