SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY SORRY

I've been realllllly busy lately, but I wanted to have this out before Christmas.

Also, I'be decided to tell you all that this isa Rough Draft. When I've finished I will go back through and beta it all myself, seeing as I can't hold on to one. HOWEVER, if any of you are willing to start at the beginning and beta them for me, I would be eternally grateful. Just go to the first, copy/paste into a word document, and do it that way.

Have a Happy Harry Christmas, everyone!

Harry couldn't remember a time in which he had ever felt this tired. Not only had he had to get up entirely too early, but he had been totally wrung of all emotion. He knew that leaving Draco would be hard, but he would never have guessed it would have beenthis hard.

It is true that he had been happy to see the Weasleys and he and Ron had a bit to catch up on, but he couldn't stop thinking about Draco. Over and over he wished that Draco was there with him, saying snide things about Ron and being entirely too friendly to Hermione. It didn't seem right without Draco there. He had grown so accustomed to Draco being there at every moment that he felt incomplete without him.

It had been merely hours, and Harry already missed the sod more than he had ever missed anything.

They were having an early lunch as Harry's mind slipped, once again, to Draco. What was he doing? He heard Snape say something about firecalling Remus when he got to Hogwarts, but Harry knew that the call was more for Snape's benefit than his.

"What do you think, Harry?"

Harry looked up from his pulverized lunch and said, "Sorry, what? I wasn't listening."

"You weren't even here," Mrs. Weasley said consolingly. "It's quite alright, dear. I must say though, you have been terribly quiet today. Are you felling a bit under the weather?"

Ron scratched the back of his neck and muttered, "Blimey Harry, you're not going to be skulking around like this all year are you, mate? 'Cause if you are, tell me now so I can hold auditions for my new best friend. Or possibly learn a spell that will kill me. There are plenty, maybe I can get creative."

"I'm not going to skulk around all year," Harry said, finally giving up on eating and laying his fork down. "I just wish that I could have…"

"…Stayed with Malfoy," Ron finished flatly. "Believe me, I know. We all know. It's not, but any stretch of the imagination, a secret. You've been pining."

"And you've accidentally called me Draco twice," Ginny added, spearing a steamed carrot with her fork. "I never knew I could be mistaken as a boy."

"It's more like Draco is often mistaken as a teenage girl," Hermione said reasonably. "It isn't you, Gin."

Harry rolled his eyes but said nothing, only picked his fork back up miserably and began mixing his food around again. Hermione, sighing impatiently, snatched Harry's fork away, slamming it down on the table again and snarling, "Would you stop? I understand that you miss Draco and I understand that you aren't hungry, but other people are trying to eat and the contents of your plate looks like semi-digested vomit."

Harry wrinkled his nose and cradled his chin in his hands. "Fair enough."

"Come on you lot, we should probably get to the platform," Mrs. Weasley said and shouldered her large purse.

Ginny pulled on her jacket and followed her mother. "You know mum, this is probably the first time we aren't running late for the train. It's probably the lack of distractions in the form of Dad, Fred, and George."

"Yeah, that and the fact that Snape made us wake up earlier than anyone ever should," Harry added, climbing into the car Snape had left for them, Hermione and Ginny sliding in next to him.

"Everyone buckled? Right then, off we go," Mrs. Weasley said quickly. "Where am I to take the car after I drop you lot off?"

Harry checked his watch as he said, "In about three hours it will change back into a matchbook. You should be able to make it back to the Leaky Cauldron."

"Waste of a perfectly good car," Ron grumbled. "Snape is such an…"

"Ronald!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. "It isn't nice to talk about your professor like that. He's been nothing but helpful about this whole situation."

"I don't care," Ron groaned. "I still don't like the git." Harry couldn't help but agree.

Ginny rolled her eyes and leaned forward. "So, how is Malfoy, Harry? Ron refused to talk about him, and no one else will talk about it. He's…he's really blind, then?"

Harry nodded quickly, thankful that he had an excuse to talk about Draco. "Yes, but he's fine. He's his same old, loving self."

"How refreshing," Ginny said dryly. "Can't understand how you could stand spending summer with him, nevertheless miss him afterwards."

"Harry had a grand old time with him," Ron said with a dismissive wave. "Harry was the only one who got along with him, and in my opinion he got along with him entirely too well."

"What! Do you mean…"

"Hermione sighed loudly. "That's exactly what he means, Gin. He's just being extremely round-a-bout way. Harry and Draco are dating."

"Since when is Harry a poof?" Ginny stated, but Mrs. Weasley interrupted.

"Ginevra! Don't call Harry that. But really dear, it's been rather obvious. It may be partly be because a mother always knows. I mean, look at Charlie."

"What!" Ron screeched. "Charlie's GAY?"

"You're behind, Ronald," Hermione said, patting his shoulder gently. "Get with the program, will you? Are you caught up, Ginny? Any more questions? If so, I hope you don't mind me directing the questions to Harry. I have to say that he knows a bit more about his love life than I do."

Harry rolled his eyes, pointedly avoiding the eyes of everyone in the car. "As much as I enjoy you all talking about me like I'm not here, could we talk about something else?"

"I thought you LIKED talking about Malfoy," Ron said tersely.

"And I thought we agreed not to talk about this anymore," Harry groaned, pressing his forehead against the window. "I do like talking about him, just not with people who don't like him. I know Ron doesn't and Ginny shares many of the same feelings."

"I like him most of the time," Hermione said with a shrug. "And Mrs. Weasley likes everyone."

"Everyone but Malfoys," Mrs. Weasley said softly. "B…but I don't know this Draco very well. I could like him, I don't know. I won't form an opinion until I've met him. I promise."

"Thanks," Harry supplied. "You know, he really isn't that bad. He's actually really…well, I wouldn't call him sweet, but…Anyway, you lot wouldn't know because he is defensive around people he knows don't like him. He's hateful because you lot are hateful. And by you lot I mean Ron exclusively. So there."

"Well, I'm only hateful because he is," Ron retorted. "I would be nice to him if he promised to be nice to me. But he won't, so there is absolutely no point. None at all."

"If that's what you think," Harry said, obviously tired of arguing. "I don't care if you get along or not. I like him and I get along with him and that's all that matters, really. You don't have to kiss him or anything."

There was a soft chorus of 'Thank Merlin' from everyone in the vehicle. Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head, extremely thankful that Kings Cross was coming into view.

"You don't have to kiss him either," Ron said in a tone that suggested he was surprised that he was even having this conversation. "Why anyone in their right mind would want to kiss him is beyond me."

"Because I happen to like it," Harry said flatly. "And not that it is any of your business, but he is a damn good snogger."

"Language, dear," Mrs. Weasley scoulded as she pulled into the hour-parking spot in front of the bustling train station.

Harry bailed out of the car, pulling his trunk out of the boot. He dragged it into the station, finding it extremely hard to care if the others were following.

He pushed his way through all the people, his gaze fixed on the space between platforms nine and ten. Not caring if anyone saw him cross over he barrelled through, nearly sending a twitchy-looking girl sprawling to the ground. Snapping a quick apology he dragged his trunk up onto the train, setting off to find an empty compartment.

As he made his way through the train he was subjected to countless whispers and stares. Mind you, he was accustomed to these common occurrences, but this time, along with the whispered mutterings of 'Harry Potter', he also heard snippets of 'Draco Malfoy', 'Daily Prophet', and 'accident'. Harry was glad that no one had enough courage to ask questions. He had had enough questions for the day.

He found an empty compartment in the very back of the train. Coincidentally, it was the compartment right after Draco's Slytherin friends. Needless to say, he received some rather dirty looks from Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle. Harry only smiled tightly and threw himself into the compartment.

As soon as he found Dumbledore, he decided, he was going to inquire about his mental state. This was, buy far, the worst idea that the old man had ever came up with. He had tossed Harry out in the middle of gossip-starved teenagers who enjoyed talking about the affairs of other people entirely too much. He had been forced to field questions and be the only one who could answer then to everyone's standards, because there was no Malfoy to be found and everyone was sure, in one way or another, that Harry was involved with his absence.

Harry was sure that no one had heard what had actually happened, just by listening in to the hurried conversations coming from the other compartments. There was no way they actually know. All they had heard they had read in the Prophet, overheard from important relatives, or made up. Some thought that Malfoy had been murdered, that Harry had him in captivity, or that he had came back, only using a Polyjuice potion. Harry found these theories rather humourous, but he never confirmed or denied any of them. Maybe, he though bitterly, they would keep their theories to themselves and leave him out of it.

Harry knew that he would soon be joined by people he would rather not talk to, but there really wasn't much he could do about it. He thought about extracting his invisibility cloak from his trunk but because both Hermione and Ron would expect that, he decided not to.

Sure enough, he was shortly joined by a sulking Ron and Ginny and a cross-looking Hermione. After both Weasleys refused to sit by Harry, Hermione hissed, "Oh HONESTLY," and plopped rather unceremoniously into the seat beside the ebony-haired teen.

Harry glanced over to his frizzy-haired friend with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Hermione returned the smile in an overly cheerful manner and said, "Do you fancy a game of Wizard's Chess, Harry?"

Needless to day, this question caused a silent uproar with Ron and a sniffle from Ginny. Harry rolled his eyes. "Ginny's just fuel for the fire, isn't she Ron? I had really thought that you were over all of this, but I was obviously mistaken. Now that you have someone that agrees with you, you are exactly where you started."

Ron narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. All he did was watch Hermione pull out the chess set and set it up in the space between she and Harry on the bench.

Ginny stood and said something about going to find Luna and Ron sprawled out in their seat, balling up his jacket and using it as a pillow. Harry had no idea why Ron would be tired, seeing as he got to sleep much later than he and Hermione had.

Soon after their game of Wizard's Chess was underway, Ron began to snore very loudly. Hermione rolled her eyes and hissed, "Not again," but Harry found it strangely comforting. It reminded him of all the fun that he had with Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Ron all the years he had gone to Hogwarts. Oddly enough, Harry was slowly getting more excited about his return. True, he still missed Draco terribly, but he had forgotten about how much he looked forward to his return to Hogwarts.

When he wasn't paying attention, he learned the hard way that Hermione had been taking lessons from Ron when it came to chess. She had, in the mere matter of minutes, beaten him spectacularly. Harry congratulated her and she humbly accepted.

"So, I wanted to tell you that one of the potions that Snape made for Draco worked. He could see," Harry said softly, as not to wake Ron.

"What?" Hermione said in an excited whisper. "It worked! That's wonderful, Harry! Maybe he'll get his sight back! Wouldn't that be great?"

Harry smiled widely and whispered, "Yeah. It would. I have to hand it to Snape, he does, in the long run, have Draco's best interests in mind. He really cares about him."

"Yes, well, he is his godfather Harry," Hermione said with a yawn. "He's in a similar boat as you were. Sirius was like a father to you, and Snape is like a father to him. It would explain why Draco is so smart and why you are prone to rule-breaking."

"I learned from the best," Harry added, accompanied with a yawn of his own. "Ron's snoring is making me sleepy."

"Me too," Hermione admitted. "I've actually gotten used to it."

"I had to. Lay down if you want, I'm thinking of having a nap myself."

Hermione curled up in the seat, laying her head in Harry's lap. "I didn't sleep much last night, worrying about coming back. I just…"

But her voice trailed away as she fell asleep.

As Harry closed his eyes his mind flickered over Draco, then a pouting Ginny, and just as he drifted to sleep a question arose in his mind…

Did Snape even require sleep?

To say that Ron was upset when he awoke to find his girlfriend curled up in another man's lap, gay or not, would be a gross understatement. He was livid. Instead of waking them up manually, he grabbed a box of Bertie Bott's beans and began hurling them at them. Hermione was batting them away, grumbling, when she woke up.

Harry didn't awake until Ron landed one in his mouth.

"We are almost there," Ron said as he pulled his uniform out of his trunk and began getting dressed. "You should both put on your robes."

Harry started digging around in his trunk and pulled out the clothes that he needed. Hermione simply opened her trunk and pulled out the perfectly pressed uniform she had laid on the top for this very occasion. She then gathered Ginny's uniform as well and said, "I'm going to go get dressed with Ginny. I'll see you both in a minute."

"Alright then," Harry grumbled, pulling off his coat and t-shirt before putting his white button-down uniform shirt on.

Ron eyed him pointedly as he slowly buttoned up his own shirt. Finally, Ron said, "Why was Hermione's head in your lap?"

"Because she was tired," Harry said as he draped his tie around his neck. "It's not like you have to worry about me hitting on her."

Ron angrily yanked his vest over his head. "Yes, well, who knows when you'll change your mind and decide you fancy girls again."

"Ron, mate, I can assure that that won't happen," Harry said with a chuckle. "I've came to terms with my sexuality, I doubt that I'm going to change my mind now."

"But you could," Ron groaned as he sat back down.

Harry shook his head, pulling on his robe and sitting opposite Ron, propping his feet up. "I won't. Even if I did, though, I wouldn't go after Hermione. She's your girlfriend. I care too much about both you and Hermione to do that. Plus, I'm gay. I don't know if you factored that in."

Ron narrowed his eyes but said nothing for a long while. Finally, after the pause, he said, "So…you…you don't like Hermione?"

"She's my friend, Ron," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "She feels comfortable around me because she knows I won't try to make a move on her or anything. And so you know, I won't try to make a move on you, either. I've got Draco for that."

"And I could have went the rest of my life not hearing that come out of your mouth," Ron said, shaking his head and leaning back against the seat. "In all seriousness though, I think you broke Ginny's heart. She's been pining over you all bloody summer. I didn't have the heart to tell her about you and Malfoy."

"I'm sure she'll be able to move on," Harry said, although he had enough decency to look sheepish. "I'm sorry about that, I didn't mean to lead her on."

"You didn't," Ron said with a shrug. "It's not your fault. Ginny's just delusional, is all."

"No, she's…" but at this point Ginny and Hermione entered the compartment, Ginny still looking slightly sulky. The pair of them sat down just before the train jerked roughly, signalling that they were pulling into Hogsmeade Station. The train came to a shaky, gradual stop. Ginny hopped up quickly, dragging her trunk behind her. Ron then followed, and Hermione and Harry dragged up the rear.

It seemed to annoy Hermione to no end to hear the entire student body whispering as they walked past, as she was hissing both, "Oh honestly," and "Do they not have their own life to talk about?" at regular intervals.

Harry only chuckled and said, "Just ignore them, Hermione. It's not worth it. It will eventually die down."

"Yes, well, it's incredibly stupid," Hermione spar, sending a glare to rival Draco to Hannah Abbot, who cowed slightly. "I hate gossips."

"I can't believe you have been friends with me for seven years and aren't used to it by now," Harry chuckled. "I really don't hear it anymore. I find it funny, actually. They've got nothing else to do."

"Yes they do, they can mind their own business," Hermione huffed as she stepped onto the platform, hoisting Crookshanks' cage up on her hip. "Where's your owl, Harry?"

"I..." Harry furrowed his brow, then smacked himself on the head. "I forgot him at Grimmauld Place. I guess I'm not used to having one anymore. Draco hoarded him at the house, so I didn't get used to having an owl around."

"But you left him," Hermione snorted in laughter. "I'm sure you meant to leave him to keep Draco company. He named him Pip, didn't he? Bloody awful book, that."

"So I hear," Harry muttered as he lifted first his than Hermione's trunk into their carriage. He couldn't help but notice that Hermione' was much heavier. "I don't think the bird likes me anyway. I'll just be nice to Crookshanks to compensate."

"Than he can come sleep with you," Hermione grunted as she tossed the severely overweight cat onto the bench and climbed in next to him. "He's a bed hog."

"Maybe he can just have Ron's bed, I'm sure he won't be needing it anymore," Harry said, trying his very hardest not to laugh.

Hermione blushed furiously as she buried her face in her hands, neither approving or denying the comment. At this Harry did chuckle, just as the carriage began its jerky ascent to Hogwarts castle.

Everything was exactly as it always was. The students filed in and sat at their respective tables as usual, the teachers sat in their usual positions at the head table, and Dumbledore rose to make his start of term speech just like always. Apart from being dressed more sombrely in tones of black, he looked like he always had, give or take a few deep wrinkles. His speech was predictable: the Forbidden Forest was its namesake, Filch had banned more things from the hallways, and Quidditch team sign-ups would begin the following week.

The thing that worried Harry the most about Dumbledore was the clipped severity of his tone. He couldn't tell what was wrong with the old man, but he knew something was going on that he knew nothing about. He was very relieved to have a note delivered by an angry-looking owl that requested his presence in the Headmaster's office in two day's time. Maybe then he would get some answers.

It was with heavy eyelids that Harry, Hermione, and a reluctant Ron decided to trek up to the Gryffindor common room, where they found their beds exactly how they left them, (excepting Ron, who had left his bed in a state of total disarray and found it neatly made.)

Harry had left unpacking for the next morning, simply digging his pyjamas out of his trunk and pulling them on. He was about to climb into his warm bed when he heard a tapping at the window.

The tapping sounded again, and he made his way over to it, passing the sleeping forms of his dorm mates. Throwing open the window a sleek ebony owl fluttered in, a letter tied to his leg.

"Hey Pip," Harry said to the owl as it landed on his shoulder, but it showed no sign of recognition. It simply shook its leg frantically. "Fine, calm down," Harry whispered as he untied the letter from his leg. "Go dig in Ron's trunk, I'm sure he has some food."

The owl hopped off his shoulder but Harry didn't wait to see if it did as it was told. He tiptoed to his bed and sat down, ripping open the letter and seeing that the letter was painstakingly handwritten, and it was from Draco. Draco had already written him.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, he read:

Harry,

You are a little slow, aren't you? You just run off and forget your owl. No worries, I'm sure you realized I would probably start writing a letter right after you left, so you left him for me to use. How considerate.

I'm sure you miss me terribly. Remus and I are currently lamenting about the loss of our true loves and are baking endless sweets. I'll send some along with my next letter. You may think I'm kidding but I'm not, there are at least fifty biscuits in strategic places throughout the house.

Remus said we start our lessons next week, and I'm looking forward to it. And seeing as sarcasm isn't really transferable in written word, that last comment was sarcastic.

I've actually got nothing to say, really. Just want to see you again. Well...not see you, because that is out of the question at the moment, but I want you to come back. I can't wait for next weekend. Maybe Severus will have some of that potion and I can really see you.

And I hope you appreciate the fact that I hand-wrote this. I'm fairly sure you aren't entirely fluent in Braille. Plus, I like writing. I like the sound.

WRITE BACK AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS!

Yours,

Draco

And for once, Harry did as he was told.

I hope the length makes up for the tardiness.