A/N: Annnd the fourth (and final!) chapter. Fastest update time ever for me, I think. Again: YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!

"It was an eagle, Harry. A bloody eagle!"

Draco flinched. Weasley's voice was not the first sound he wanted to hear upon waking…although, he supposed he should be thankful he was waking up at all, considering the circumstances.

He kept his eyes closed, focusing on the conversation going on close by. Weasley was still speaking. "I mean, honestly. I was expecting a giant snake or something."

"Stereotyping an unconscious man is just plain rude, slugs." Draco drawled, opening his eyes.

He was in a hospital room-St. Mungo's, most likely-and Harry, Weasley and Granger were grouped near the tiny room's door to his left. They all looked over in surprise at the sound of his voice, but Draco only really noticed Harry.

He beamed in relief at Draco, coming over to his side at once and taking his hand, lacing his fingers with Draco's. He looked terrible-all worn and peaky, with dark bruise like circles under his eyes-but other than that he was unhurt.

"You look like hell, Scarhead," Draco told him wryly by way of a hello.

Harry grinned in return. "Have you looked in a mirror lately, ferret?"

Draco felt as hellish as Harry looked. The magically regenerating skin beneath the constricting bandage around his chest itched like mad and pulled with each breath. His body ached from lying on the uncomfortable hospital bed for too long…So no, Draco wouldn't be looking in any mirrors anytime soon.

"If I look anything like I feel, I probably don't wish to," He closed his eyes. "So tell me. Why aren't we in the hands of Zabini and his new Death eaters?"

Granger took up the conversation then. "Most of the Aurors in the area saw Harry's signal and came as fast as they could. They caught the Death Eaters by surprise, before they could get organized enough to close their trap behind you and Harry. When they reached you two, your eagle patronus had created a small dome of protection around you while Ron-" here she gazed proudly at her husband, leaning closer to him while he grinned stupidly- "chased the Dementors down the street, away from you."

Weasley puffed up proudly. "All in a day's work." Draco found it exceedingly hard not to gag as Granger smiled and kissed him.

"Ugh." He wrinkled his nose. "Sorry I asked."

As Granger and Weasley excused themselves-probably for some disgusting make up snogging and worse-he spotted something on the small nightstand next to his bed.

It was Harry's present, torn and rumpled but intact. He'd forgotten to give it to Harry before he left…

He reached over for it now, grimacing a little as the bandage pulled. "Here," he said gruffly, tossing it to Harry, who looked at it in surprise.

"What is this…?"

"It's your Christmas present. I forgot to give it to you before Weasley started running his mouth."

Giving him a stunned look-honestly, did he think Draco would forget?-Harry tore off what was left of the wrapping paper and slit open the hand sized box with his wand.

When he saw the old pocket watch, he smiled, his eyes looking a bit wet. "Draco, it's beautiful."

Draco touched his matted platinum hair, looking away in embarrassment, his cheeks on fire. "It was my grandfather's," he found himself saying, as if he should explain such an unorthodox gift.

When his eyes came back to Harry, he was moving to open it. Draco was about to warn him about the clasp, but to his surprise, the thing opened easily under Harry's careful fingers. Like it had been waiting for him to come along and open it.

Inside was a clock face made out of pure pale emerald, with silver serpents for hands and onyx numbers. Harry's brow suddenly furrowed. "What's this?"

He tugged on something underneath the soft green silk covering the watch's other side. After a few seconds of patient tugging, a somewhat yellowed photograph slid out.

The photograph was of twelve-year-old Draco. He was sitting against a large tree with the ocean rolling soundlessly in the background, his pet owl Darius sitting on his shoulder, preening his feathers.

It had been partially a candid shot; he had been sitting there with Darius, an unfinished letter to his grandfather on his lap, when his mother had called his name. When he looked up, she gave him only a few seconds to smile before taking it. Thus his picture self looked rather bemused, with the first and only real smile he ever had for a camera.

His mother had given the picture to him to send to his grandfather, who had kept it…Draco blinked sudden moisture from his eyes. He cleared his throat. "Erm, sorry. I had no idea that was in there-"

Harry dropped the watch, the box and the picture on the nightstand and lunged forward, his arms wrapping around Draco's neck as his mouth found his. It wasn't at all like the angry kisses from before; it was sweet, gentle, loving, a firm yet easy pressure against Draco's lips. Draco found his eyes sliding shut as he leaned into the kiss, wondering how the Weasley girl could have willingly walked away from this.

He wrapped his arms around Harry's torso. Harry pulled on him-an attempt to pull Draco off the bed and into his lap-but Draco hissed slightly at the chafing pressure on his chest.

Harry pulled back, green eyes wide with alarm. "Sorry! You okay?"

"Yeah," he replied, a little breathless. It had hurt only a little, and was gone in an instant. He pulled Harry's face back into another kiss, pulling Harry back against him-carefully this time. Harry smiled against his mouth, one hand coming up to stroke Draco's silky hair lightly. The other trailed lower to cup Draco's lower back, stroking the warm skin beneath the flimsy hospital gown. Draco shivered, tightening his grip.

Just then, a nurse poked her head in, to warn them that visiting hours were almost over. The pair broke apart reluctantly, but only their lips; Draco's head rested naturally against Harry's as they both turned to look at her.

As Harry would tell Draco later, this particular nurse was an Auror's wife, and as such, had a habit of turning a blind eye when it came to Aurors and their significant others. So, instead of telling Harry it was time for him to leave, all she did was give him a stern look and a warning: "Mr. Potter, don't excite Mr. Malfoy too much. That healing spell needs time to finish it's work."

Draco could feel the heat of Harry's blush against his own cheek. "Okay. Thank you, ma'am."

When the nurse left, wisely shutting the door carefully behind her, Draco turned back to Harry to kiss him again-this new gentler form of snogging being a good new addiction-but Harry stopped him, half rising in his seat in order to put Draco back down on the bed, against the pillows.

Draco allowed it, but when Harry tried to let go and pull away, however, the former Slytherin's grip tightened, his eyes narrowing. "Where do you think you're going?"

Harry rolled his eyes at him. "You heard her, Draco. You need to heal more before we start…that…again."

Draco sighed. "Potter, why must your mind go immediately to the gutter? There are other things to do together than sex."

Above him, Harry looked confused for a second. But then his eyes widened in exaggerated surprise. "Oh my God. Draco Malfoy is asking to cuddle!"

Draco's cheeks started to burn again as he realized that, yes, that was exactly what he was asking for. He looked away, his arms slipping from Harry's torso. But he looked back in surprise as Harry caught his arms, stopping them and giving him a gentle kiss. "Sorry. I'd love to." He smiled against Draco's lips. "And besides, I still haven't made it up to you for being such an ass or rewarded you for saving my life."

"Damn right you haven't." Draco shifted over enough for Harry to crawl in next to him. Harry kissed the bandage on Draco's chest lightly before pulling Draco closer to him, resting his head on Draco's. Draco smiled and curled closer into the embrace, pressing his face into Harry's warm chest.

Harry chuckled. "You know I'm not going anywhere?" It was said teasingly, but Draco could hear a serious promise behind those words. Draco's smile widened, a happy glow filling him beneath his damn itching chest. If getting sappy like this made him a total girl…he didn't care, not anymore. He lifted his head, kissing the underside of Harry's jaw. "You better not, Scarhead."

…

Harry kept his implied promise. He was right there with Draco through the remaining days of his recovery, talking, kissing, cuddling. Draco had forgotten how comforting it was to have someone right by his side, expecting nothing in return.

When St. Mungo's finally released him, Harry invited Draco over to his house with the utmost ceremony and politeness. Draco was dubious about it-his only experience there had not been the greatest (not to mention that it had almost ended with their deaths)-but when they arrived, Harry proceeded to make much more pleasant memories by snogging him in every room of the house.

When they got around to snogging in Harry's beautiful, eggshell blue kitchen, things quickly got heated. Harry pushed Draco against the sink, kissing him hard but passionately, not looking for punishment or to punish but something much better.

This suddenly wasn't such a chore for Draco anymore. He wasn't looking for just that brief lightning strike, but for something else, something deeper, more lingering, more…fulfilling.

Harry's tongue gently but firmly pushed into Draco's mouth. He welcomed him in, drawing Harry's tongue into a fierce duel, teasingly stroking and sucking on it. Harry moaned, crowding Draco further against the sink. The former Slytherin half growled, half purred, arching against Harry, grinding his hips against Harry's.

Apparently for Harry, this wasn't nearly close enough. He dipped a little, and Draco inhaled sharply in surprise as he scooped him up and sat him up on the counter, stepping between his legs. Draco responded by wrapping his legs around Harry's waist and squeezing him closer. Both groaned as their respective bulges chafed against one another and their own clothing.

"What do you say to finishing this upstairs?" Harry panted seductively against Draco's mouth. Draco's response was to grind against him again-a definite yes.

…

After that, they were nearly inseparable. Draco spent more time with Harry at his house than at his own. Somehow, they fixed each other-Harry had a companion again, a lover and a friend who challenged him and surprised him in ways Ginny never did, and never could. In return, Harry filled the empty void Astoria had left in Draco's heart, and helped him break the one addiction he didn't care to have anymore-to alcohol-patiently holding him in bed at night, when the withdrawal symptoms were at their worst, being his warm, solid rock as he shook and whimpered.

On the day Draco proclaimed himself permanently sober, Harry celebrated by asking him to stay-permanently.

Shortly after Draco moved in, Harry's divorce was finalized, and his three children were allowed to visit him every weekend. They didn't mind having a second father-in fact, they took to Draco instantly.

When Harry's youngest, Lily, started calling Draco daddy with the shy confidence that was the special dominion of little girls, Draco knew. This was where he should have been all along, not staggering about in a miserable drunken haze. Lily, James and Albus were not Scorpius, and they could never, ever replace him, but…Draco was happy he had them now, happy that they were so quick to make permanent homes for themselves inside the other vacant chambers of his heart.

But just being their father's live-in boyfriend wasn't enough. Draco didn't want Lily calling him daddy to be just an empty title. He wanted his role as Harry's lover and permanent companion to have a physical manifestation, a physical mark besides the occasional love bite on himself and Harry. That's when he went looking for another present.

The Malfoy ancestral bonding rings were lost to him-his mother couldn't have gotten away with giving them to Draco; his father would have noticed their absence-but Draco had memorized what they looked like…

On Sunday, July 31st, Harry was awakened with a birthday breakfast in bed. A little royal blue velvet box sat unobtrusively in the corner of the breakfast tray.

"What's this?" He murmured, picking it up. Inside was an exact replica of Draco's father's bonding ring, but instead of just a giant emerald in the center, it was a ruby and an emerald, magically fused together, each a perfect half, much like a yin yang symbol.

As Harry looked up at Draco in surprise, Draco slowly sank to one knee…

They were married that summer, two months later, on the same beach that Draco had sat near in his grandfather's picture.

His life was still far from perfect-they fought and argued just like any other couple, just like any other family-but it was enough for Draco.

It was enough.

A/N: Awww...I didn't go too mushy, did I? Let me know, please! I've been dying to ask =)