'How did you only now realise you're gay at twenty?' Ron said, raising his arms in exasperation. Ron and Hermione had moved had recently moved into a small flat of their own. It only had one sofa and no tables. It was still nice to have neutral ground to spend time with them, even if the place didn't feel quite like a home yet.

Harry rolled his eyes as he paced in front of them. 'I didn't say I was gay. I said I've kind of always fancied guys.' And had simply not realised it yet.

'How is that different?'

'Well, I'm still attracted to girls.'

'It's actually not that uncommon,' Hermione said, bringing the tea service out and having it float between them. 'Not everyone knows or thinks about such things at a young age.'

Ron shrugged. 'Sure, but wouldn't that be a hard thing not to notice as horny teenager?'

'You say that like you're not still a horny teenager.' Hermione smiled as she prepared a cup of tea for herself.

'Hey - twenty. No longer a teen.'

Smiling at his friends, Harry starting making himself a cup as well. He was glad Ron was taking everything so well. Looking back, Harry couldn't figure out why he'd been so worried about it. They had both sort of accepted that Harry was falling for Draco before Harry could even admit it to himself.

Being attracted to men sort of went along with that. It was more that Harry was looking back and seeing things in a new light with this information. He'd thought of many men, even ones he'd been close to, as attractive while not noticing women all that much until he'd started to fancy them. He'd noticed that Tom Riddle was attractive as a young man but had somehow missed that Hermione was.

Hermione was his friend, but Tom Riddle was Voldemort. It was enough that Harry was knew the thoughts had lingered in the back of his mind all along, even if he chose to ignore them.

As for Ron and Hermione, it was always easier to watch someone else go through the turmoil instead of feeling it all yourself.

They'd figured it out and accepted it like always, accepted that no matter what happened they'd be there for Harry through it all. It was just that Harry had spent more time than he'd ever realised justifying to himself that all those little things they'd tease him about over the years had never been about attraction. Ron and Hermione never even suggested as much when they said they worried about his obsession with Draco in their sixth year.

Although, they'd never been in his thoughts.

So no one knew he thought about how graceful Draco was on a broom. They knew he loathed having to see Draco, but not that it was because he was afraid of embarrassing himself in front of him. It wasn't just what Draco would say, in front of others that put Harry on edge. Harry couldn't care less what most people thought of him. But with Draco, he'd cared. He'd always cared.

'You alright, mate?' Ron asked, pulling Harry from his thoughts.. 'You look scared. I mean happier than I've ever seen you, but terrified at the same time.'

Harry laughed. 'I am.'

When he'd catch himself smiling or laughing, Harry'd think about how long it had been since he'd done that. The the thought that Draco had been the one to cause this change in him would chase the smiles and laughter away.

'Oh, Harry,' Hermione said. 'It'll get easier. You just have to get used to the idea.'

Nodding, Harry drank his tea and then stared down into it instead of looking at his friends. They were always so worried about him. It will get easier. So many times Hermione had said it, but they kept not coming true. Each year at Hogwarts was worse than the one before it. Then the war.

Everything was supposed to get easier, better after the war. Instead, everyone was filled with hate, fighting through trials on who to punish and how much they deserved. Then just went it seemed to be settling, Ginny left him. They were in love. They'd waited through the worst of it so they could be together. That meant they had to love each other.

Maybe it had meant the opposite. It's much easier to be apart from, to wait as long as it takes for someone you're not really missing in the first place.

During the war, Harry had worried about Ginny's safety, but he'd worried about everyone's safety. He'd watched more than just her name walking around on the Marauder's Map. Her more than others, but Draco more than others, too.

Even then he'd worried for Draco.

If Harry had been with Draco during his sixth year instead of chasing him around for the entirety of it, Harry wondered if it would have been as easy for him to leave Draco behind at Hogwarts as it had been for him to leave Ginny.

'I'm falling in love with him.' These words were not surprising to anyone and neither were the ones that followed. 'He's already got his revenge, and I haven't even left yet. I'm dreading the day I have to.'

It was quiet for a moment as Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and Ron shook head before finally breaking the silence with,

'Here's an idea: don't.'

They both looked to Ron—Harry in surprise and Hermione with a smile.

'Don't leave him,' Ron said. 'Go tell him you love him and stay together. Weren't you the one who spoke up for him at his trial? Who said we'd never tried to see it from his perspective and that he was never that bad? Maybe this never was about revenge against you. Maybe it really is just a bet.'

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, not wanting to get in a fight about the past. There was a difference between not being a murder—like why Harry had spoke up at Draco's trial—and not being a prat who loved to make Harry's life miserable—which was how Harry had always seen him. All he'd done at Draco's trial was tell the truth. Draco still blamed Harry for landing his father in Azkaban long before that.

'If he's right,' Harry said, 'then I could have this with anyone.'

'I don't think it works like that, mate. You've already gone through the shit together—that's what he was saying created the love, right? You can't just spell it away like it never happened. I've never seen you look at anyone the way you looked at him—' Ron stopped Harry from interjecting. 'Never my sister. You never looked at her like that. You hardly looked at her at all, and you weren't comfortable with her like you are now. You've already created this with him. You're not going to be able to recreate it with someone else—you'll constantly be comparing them, and if you still love him, will they ever measure up?'

Hermione took Ron's hand and squeezed it.

'Besides,' Ron continued. 'Even if you could eventually have this with someone else, you've said yourself you don't want to end this. That it'd break your heart. Are you really willing to break your own heart to win a bet?'

Harry thought for a moment, and then said, 'It's not just a bet. It's a bet against Malfoy.'

Laughing Ron shook his head again. 'That right there should have told us—should have told you—you were in love with him long before this bet ever happened.'

#

Recently, it had become difficult for Harry to look away from Draco during their limited time together. It amazed Harry how much one's perception of someone could change how attractive they were.

Before had someone pressed him, Harry might have admitted that Draco—hell, all the Malfoys—were attractive, but never that he was personally attracted to him.

Now, it wasn't just that the expressions that Draco shared with him were different. Even when he glared at Harry, Harry found it attractive, cute even. That Draco was all bark and no bite had used to annoy Harry at school. It made him think of Draco as a coward and useless, but as adults Harry found it adorable. His perfectionism in how he dressed and presented himself no longer seemed arrogant and snobbish, but Harry found it sexy and—as hard it was for Harry to admit he ever wanted or needed such a thing—responsible.

Harry liked that Draco was dependable, responsible.

Little things that Harry brushed aside as something Draco just did turned out to have a regular positive impact on Harry's life.

When kissing Draco ran his fingers through Harry's hair and then brushed it down when he pulled away. The gestures turn it from rat's nest to the sexy bedhead look Harry's father had been famous for.

'I saw this jumper and thought of you,' Draco would say after getting Harry another item of clothing that without Harry ever trying it on fit better than anything he owned before. When Harry didn't wear the clothes Draco picked out, he didn't make a fuss. He didn't care about his clothes and he didn't care what people thought of him or how he looked. So after the formality of the wedding, Harry didn't feel the need to start dressing up.

One day in a hurry, Harry grabbed a pair of grey trousers Draco had bought him.

Such a little thing, but not pulling at his pants all day made it one of the least stressful days of training he'd ever had. Little irritants turned into bigger issues the longer they had time to build up.

'You look nice today,' Hermione had said once when Harry was in an outfit Draco had picked out for him, and then slowly all of his clothing became things Draco had picked out for him. He'd get rid of a shirt or a sock with a hole in it and as he still had plenty of clothing, Harry didn't feel the need to go shopping.

Hermione wasn't the only one to tell Harry he looked nice. Over time the comments slowly changed to lingering looks as Harry looking good that day turned into the expectation he would look good everyday.

As always, Harry had noticed in on Draco's face first. If he hadn't seen it there, knowing what it meant from Draco—that they'd ended up having sex at the breakfast table before they'd left for work was a good indication of what the look had meant—Harry wouldn't have recognized it when he saw it on Pauline's face later.

Pauline smiled at Harry like she always did as he stopped by her desk to sign in, and he caught the look from the corner of his eye.

Looking him up and down Pauline asked, 'Have any plans tonight?'

This was not the first time she'd asked Harry this question and the answer came out before Harry's thoughts caught up to what she'd meant. 'Not really. Just going home—sleeping off training.'

'Alone?'

It was the first time she'd asked that question and Harry blushed, dropping the quill and almost spilling her ink all over the sign in parchment.

She laughed, but it wasn't so much at him as to try keep the situation friendly.

'No,' Harry said quickly. 'Not alone.'

'Oh.' Her laughter faded. 'I thought Ginny had moved on—'

'We both have.' Harry nodded goodbye, knowing he'd made a huge mistake. Maybe Pauline would tell no and maybe no one had overheard their conversation, but Harry's luck rarely worked out like that.

By the end of the day, the news had spread through the Ministry.

Women from every department he'd ever stepped foot in suddenly let him know they'd been interested in him. He could have asked them, had he known? Much like discovering his attraction to men, Harry discovered he'd been flirting with them. At least, they'd been flirting with him and Harry had not been discouraging it.

Harry went home and straight to the bath to soak for an hour before dinner. Half way through it, Draco came in and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and watching Harry.

'Hi,' Harry said, avoiding eye contact. He was weighing whether he should bother Draco about what had happened that day or not when Draco broke the silence with, 'Anything interesting happen today?'

Groaning Harry pushed his head under the water and hid there for a moment before coming back up for air.

'I take that as a: yes, and it was shit.' Draco came into the room and began undressing, starting with his cuffs. 'I heard an interesting rumour that you are seeing a mysterious someone. So you know: they think it's Daisy as she's the only person they've see you out with, even if it has been a while.'

'Oh,' Harry said with relief. 'Well that's not too bad then. I mean, no one is going to be able to find her, right?'

'True, but the papers are going to have a field day if you don't talk to them.' Draco was shirtless then and kneeled next to the tub. 'We're a few months out . . . what are you doing?'

'She asked me out, Draco, what was I supposed to say?'

'It's been over a year and this is the first time someone's asked you out?'

Harry bit his lip. 'Probably not . . . I just generally don't realise when people ask me out.'

Draco snorted. 'Yeah, I'd imagine someone would have to either demand or bargain you into a date and you'd still miss it for what it really was.'

Sighing, Harry brought his hand to the side of Draco's face and then ran his wet fingers through his hair. 'Only a few more months.'

'Unless . . . you don't want that . . .'

Watching Draco's expression, Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat. Unless Harry wanted to admit that he was in love with Draco.

'What do you want to tell the papers?' Draco asked.

'Let them say whatever they want.'

#

And the Prophet did. All sorts of speculation, but none of it came close to the truth.

The Medi-witch and St Mungos never came forward with what she knew, and of course no one thought to ask her or the children Harry had visited that day why Harry had visited them. Harry visiting sick children in a hospital was just a Harry Potter thing to do that though it had made it into the paper that Draco worked there hadn't been a thought to mention.

As Harry counted down the days, dreading the moment he'd have no other choice but to leave Harry thought back to when Hermione had warned him about this. She was right; it was the perfect revenge.

Two years. It had been two years and the bet was over. They were over.

And Harry didn't want to leave.

Ron was right as well. That Harry was willing to break his own heart to win a bet against Malfoy probably said more than Harry wanted to admit on why he'd taken the ridiculous bet to begin with.

There had been a passion in him for Malfoy even then. One fueled by hatred, but a passion none the less.

Draco had become his home.

But it wasn't a home Harry felt he could trust. He needed time away from Draco to see if what he felt was real, so in the end leaving was the only option. What if having a home was all that he'd really loved about Draco?

Merely getting on well with someone wasn't love. Even if he'd never expected to get along with Draco, there was no other way Harry could describe their relationship.

Before it might have been an all consuming hatred but that wasn't how this reversal felt to him then. Harry enjoyed his presence at the table as they talked about their days and in his bed before during and after they came together. But as Harry had told Ron, anyone could fill that role.

There were also far more people willing to fill that role than Harry had realised. People Harry hadn't thought to consider before, but he could—consider them.

It was a Tuesday. Such a random day in the middle of the week for them to have to end it all.

Harry and Draco had work, and they'd see each other once they got home to have one last dinner together. To discuss the details of the bet. Draco hadn't mentioned a word about it, and neither did Harry. Nothing was planned. As Harry entered the house, a part of him hoped that everything would go the same as it had gone for the last few months.

They could forget about the bet and simply move on with their lives: together. If they just didn't talk about it, then Harry wouldn't have to leave.

Or maybe, Draco wouldn't have to leave. They'd never discussed the particulars of what would happen at this part.

But once Harry got through the door, he knew all hope was lost. It was quiet but the dining room table had flowers on it. It marked their special occasion. They'd been married for two years. Dinner wouldn't be for another hour, so Harry headed up the stairs to bathe and change. Draco would not appreciate him coming to their last dinner together dirty and smelling from another day on the job.

Even though Draco's job wasn't half as dirty as Harry's, he always freshed up before dinner.

Entering their bedroom, Harry could smell Draco all around him. His stomach twisted in knots thinking about how it would be the last time he'd come home to that scent. These were his last moments calling this bedroom his. His last time taking a bath in his tub. The last time he'd see Draco's clothes hanging up next to his own. He pulled one of Draco's black jumpers out of the wardrobe and brought it to his face.

He was going to miss that smell, and how it clinged even to his own clothes as he went about his day. How at odd moments he'd catch of hint of Draco on him, even though he was far away.

#

Draco was at the foot of the stairs headed up as Harry headed down for dinner.

'I was just coming to see if—' Draco stopped and waited for Harry to join him. 'If you were ready.'

He looked as nervous as Harry felt.

'I'm ready,' Harry said. They walked to the table not touching each other. Every move Harry made was too thought out. As they made their way to the table Harry knew there'd be no ignoring it. Even if the words never came out, and Harry couldn't force them to, they were wrapped around them, going back and forth with every look and gesture.

They ate in silence until Draco couldn't take it anymore and broke it.

Draco's eyes met his asking are you leaving me? while he asked, 'How was your day?'

'Boring,' Harry said, looking away. 'I got my first case, but it's not much. It'll be boring for a while. As busy as they are they still don't trust Aurors fresh out of training with chasing down Dark Wizards. You?'

'You should come by and see.'

Harry opened his mouth but then let it fall closed again.

'So,' Draco said, wiping the corners of his mouth and then taking a shaky breath. 'It's been two years, so the bet is over, and—there is really just one question, I suppose.'

Harry nodded, waiting for him to continue. He couldn't bring himself to speak, so he had to leave it up to Draco.

'So,' Draco started, watching Harry carefully. 'Do you love me?'

He wanted to say something but no words came out.

Yes, yes, of course he did, but he still couldn't bring himself to say the words.

Instead he tried to form other words. Sympathetic words that didn't sound too much like a lie. Harsh words so that they'd fight, and he could leave angry and never look back. Funny words so that they could laugh together and leave each other as friends. So then he could come back the next day, they could see each other again, so they didn't have to lose each other completely.

Draco closed his eyes and nodded. 'You win then.' He stood up and backed away from the table. 'Like always: you win.'

Then he Disapparated.