Chapter 4.

Since the Christmas holidays, Draco had all but moved himself in to Gryffindor. It proved to be a bit of a learning curve for both Barney and Draco, and the two had more fights than Harry had thought possible when one half of the party couldn't understand the other. The Fat Lady didn't seem to care that a Slytherin knew the password – maybe as he was so close to Harry Potter – but they figured that seeing as the portrait wasn't going to squeal and the teachers didn't have their own Marauder's map, it was pretty safe for Draco to break just about every House-specific rule and stay with Harry. The couple had had to promise to cast a silencing charm if they were going to shag and had grinned at each other at the irony as their dormmates slept in beds that had experienced more than just the noises of them shagging.

The days started to get slightly warmer as they moved through February but only deemed to get wetter as spring grew closer. In this manner, March dawned bright and rainy, not quite willing to start its transition into springtime. With it, came Ron's 18th birthday and with his birthday, his imminent proposal to Hermione. He had informed Harry that he was planning on doing it in the library, by placing the ring in an empty Chocolate Frog box with a retro 1991 Dumbledore card in it. According to Ron, Hermione's connecting the dots with Nicolas Flamel was the first step in the journey of his falling in love with her. Personally, Harry believed it to be closer to the post-Lavender-Brown time period, but if Ron wanted to be romantic then Harry wasn't going to dampen his spirits. And so it was that on the 5th of March, Ron asked Hermione if she could come to the library with him to look for something. She wordlessly followed him, looking shocked that Ron remembered where the library was without her leading him.

Half an hour later they returned (and Harry wondered briefly if he was the only one that found it hilarious that they had trudged all the way to the library for Ron to show her a ring, then hiked back to the tower. He met gazes with Draco who seemed to be trying very hard to flatten out his smile and thought, 'I knew there was a reason I'm dating this boy.') and Hermione's eyes were sparkling as much as the new ring on her finger was.

The three boys and a snake sat around as she gushed appropriately and Harry found himself sharing worried glances with Ron as Draco joined in and started throwing around wedding plans.

'Blue and white is incredibly overdone, but it would be gorgeous in the snow. And the blue wouldn't clash too horrendously with all the redheads that will inevitably be there.'

'We'll have to find someone appropriate to do your hair of course, your usual taming methods would hardly hold in the cold climate. I know some people, I'll put you through to them.'

And,

'Never let the man choose his own tie. Just trust me on this.'

Once the pair of them had calmed down enough for them to move and sit next to their respective significant others, Hermione chose to lean over and say,

"Oh, by the way Draco. Ron told me I should ask you to be my maid of honour." Harry stared wide-eyed at Ron who cracked up laughing, and Draco flushed on his high cheekbones and smacked Harry, hard, upside the head.

~.oOo.~

It was a completely unassuming April day, just around when Hermione was starting to panic about N.E.W.T.S (at least, to the extent that if they wanted to talk to her, they had to hike to the library to do so), when the bubble popped. Harry returned to Gryffindor after Charms to find Draco curled up on their bed, immobile with Barney equally curled at his feet. He paused in the doorway to watch with a smile on his face, heart full at how much had changed over the course of the year. The smile fell from his face as Draco noticed him and leapt from the bed, essentially throwing himself at Harry who caught and held him on autopilot. He was clutching a copy of the Prophet which he sort of thrust in Harry's general direction, so he wormed it out of the blond's tight fist and read the day's headline.

DEATH EATER FOUND DEAD IN AZKABAN PRISON: LUCIUS MALFOY, SUSPECTED SUICIDE.

Harry sank down to the thick red carpet with Draco, right there in the doorway. He held the blond tightly and stared shell-shocked at the wall above the blond's head and, damnit, why couldn't he be more helpful? Lucius Malfoy's composed mug shot was staring up at them and Harry angrily crumpled the paper up and threw it as far as he could. Draco was just sitting there in his arms, limp and unresponsive and Harry knew how to deal with tears and screaming and panic, but this complete silence was scaring him. He didn't know if getting Draco to talk would be helpful or not – talking was meant to be the solution to everything, wasn't it? It seemed like something Hermione would have told him – "Communication is key, Harry!" – and he had to choke back a hysterical laugh because that was probably the least helpful advice in this situation possible. He hated Lucius Malfoy. He hated him for doing this to Draco, he hated him for buggering off and dying in prison and leaving Draco to deal with the consequences of his actions for the rest of his life, he hated him for the things he had done to Draco before today; hated him for getting the boy involved in the Dark Arts and giving up his home to Voldemort, hated him for ruining his only son's childhood. He hated him for the hold he still had on Draco, despite not being worth the time of day and he hated him because now Harry had to tell Draco it would all be okay and he couldn't tell if that was a lie or not. Thankfully, Draco was the first to break the silence and Harry felt guilty for the selfish thought as soon as it formed in his mind.

"Mother will find out from the Prophet, too." That hadn't even occurred to Harry and he felt cold all of a sudden. Poor Narcissa. She didn't even deserve to be in that hellhole and Lucius bloody Malfoy had gone and offed himself and left his wife and child to find out from the bloody newspaper. The chill was what Harry needed to sort his head out though. He manoeuvred Draco's dead weight until the boy was curled around him like a koala and raised his chin to press soft kisses to his mouth and forehead. "They made him out to be worse than Voldemort." Draco continued in a sort of detached, Luna-esque manner and it was a sign of just how out of it Draco was, that he said 'Voldemort' without flinching. Harry personally didn't feel like Malfoy Senior was much better than Voldemort, but then he was Draco's father and he was dead, and Harry couldn't be certain that he wouldn't feel the same if he were in Draco's shoes. "They talked about his services as a Death Eater for an entire page." Harry winced. The prophet was a broadsheet newspaper. That was a lot of space to fill. "He was my father." Draco's voice finally cracked on the last word and he started shuddering in Harry's arms. He kept his lips pressed to Draco's forehead until the blond ducked his head to hide his face in the crook of Harry's neck. He felt the collar of his shirt grow damp and he ran his fingers through Draco's hair, murmuring platitudes about letting it all out and that he was here for him and feeling utterly useless.

They sat like that for the next hour and they both missed their Defence lesson, but Harry thought the teacher would understand. His priority was Draco and Draco's priority was his parents, which meant Harry's was Draco's parents as well. Once the blond had stopped shaking and his sniffs were clearing up, Harry gently pushed him away so he could cup his boyfriend's face in one hand and use the other to flutter over his perfect, aristocratic features. His eyes were puffy and his nose was stuffy and both were glowing pink. His hair was ruffled and Harry thought of all those Muggle songs about people looking beautiful when they were crying and thought how that was all codswallop. If not even Draco looked good crying, then no one else on the planet possibly could, but even looking like he was suffering from a horrible bout of conjunctivitis didn't stop Harry from peppering kisses all over his shiny, tear-stained face. He then pulled him to his feet and determinedly pulled him through the common room; half of whose contents stared, the other half respectfully averted their eyes. Harry had never noticed how many people got the Daily Prophet, but now all he could see was Lucius Malfoy's face staring from the cover of what seemed like hundreds of copies. With a thoughtless wave of his hand, all the copies zoomed into the air and burst into flames, the ashes fluttering down as Harry pulled Draco out through the portrait hole. He could pay everyone back a knut if they really cared that much.

~.oOo.~

Harry took the most hidden route to the Headmistress's office rather than the quickest. He figured, though Draco may not be thinking about it now, he'd prefer it in hindsight if he'd had some time to compose himself before facing Professor McGonagall. They reached the gargoyles and Harry realised he didn't know the password, so he asked them to notify McGonagall that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were waiting outside. The statues sneered, but must have complied as soon they leapt apart and the spiralling staircase was open for the couple.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall greeted, waving her arm in a gesture towards the two chairs in front of her desk. "May I offer you a cup of tea?" Harry got Draco sitting and then sat next to him, pushing their chairs up against each other and holding his hand between them. Draco had fallen into his unresponsive state again, and so Harry answered for him,

"Actually, Professor, um, Headmistress, could I ask for a mug of hot chocolate perhaps?" he cut his gaze towards Draco who was now looking at him as if he were going to cry again.

"Of course." McGonagall replied, looking kinder than her usual visage, and called for a house elf to whom she spoke in quiet tones. Harry took the chance to look around the office. There was a shelf filled with shiny and whirring silver objects that he remembered from Dumbledore's reign. Harry hadn't placed McGonagall as that sentimental, but then what did he know about her private life, really? And it must have meant something that they had survived Snape's time in the Headmaster's chair. Speaking of, he glanced up at the two portraits closest to McGonagall's desk. One was empty, and the other held an almost concerned (if you knew what to look for) Severus Snape, who was within eye line of both a copy of The Prophet and Draco's quiet figure. Once the elf had popped out of the room, she sat down behind her desk and turned to Draco. "Am I right in assuming you're here to ask permission to visit Azkaban?"

"Yes." Harry replied for Draco once it became obvious that the boy wasn't going to speak.

"I think Mr. Malfoy is perfectly capable of answering for himself, Mr. Potter." McGonagall gave him a sharp look and Harry wanted to cry out 'Isn't it obvious that he's not?!' but Malfoys were made of stronger stuff than Harry had given them credit for and he saw Draco visibly pull himself together and clear his throat.

"Yes, Headmistress." He coughed again, "I need to visit my mother and discuss…details. Now that Father has…passed away, there's the issue of the head of Household that needs to be sorted." Harry hadn't thought of that either. By God, Lucius Malfoy was a bastard. The house elf popped back into the room and left a mug of hot chocolate with a saucer filled with chocolate biscuits on a small end table that McGonagall transfigured. Draco thanked the elf, and it popped away, still bowing.

"Mr. Potter." Harry looked up. "I thank you for bringing Mr. Malfoy here, but I think it best you return to your common room now." Harry instantly frowned and protested,

"Professor, you can't honestly expect me to leave, now of all times?" Draco had found out not even two hours ago that his father had just killed himself, and Harry was supposed to not be there for him?

"There are legal matters that need to be attended to, Harry." McGonagall had softened and almost looked like she was sending him away against her better wishes. "I'm afraid you're not allowed to sit in on the conversations that are about to take place."

"But surely if Draco says that it's okay -" he stopped at a squeeze on his hand and looked up at his boyfriend's pale eyes.

"She's right." He said quietly and Harry bristled at all the calm and dulcet tones they were using with him, as if he were the one that needed comforting the most in this situation. "I'll come find you after." The 'I'll need you' went unspoken and Harry, very reluctantly, stood up. He pressed a kiss against the back of Draco's hand and met his eyes over their entwined fingers, willing the blond to understand how much Harry loved him and supported him and that he'd do anything to take away the pain. Draco smiled faintly and Harry felt confident enough in Draco's stability to leave him, however unwilling he may be.

He met Ron and Hermione looking frantic in the common room and all but collapsed into them. Gods. What a day.

~.oOo.~

Draco was an emotional rollercoaster over the next few days. He would flip from being absolutely silent, to sobbing, to screaming all during one conversation. At his lowest points, Harry found himself darkly thanking that Draco and Lucius hadn't been all that close, because he didn't know how he could handle Draco's grief coping mechanisms if this were expected to last months rather than weeks. Not that you could put a timeline on grief, but you could put a timeline on a Malfoys' reputation-damaging public behaviour. Harry found that sometimes he had to bolster himself to go and find his boyfriend after he had just screamed at and insulted Harry for a good few minutes in front of everyone in the common room, or everyone in the library, or everyone in the Great Hall. Harry wasn't known for being patient, but he was determined and he would be damned if he let Lucius Malfoy ruin him and Draco from beyond the grave.

Things calmed down come the weekend. Draco had left to Azkaban, leaving Harry behind. It seemed that "legal matters" even extended over to The Great Harry Potter and he spent the weekend sitting in Gryffindor tower thinking about Draco. He had been so volatile recently and he worried endlessly what it would do to see his mother sitting in a cell, to imagine his father in one similar, to see his father's body and send it off. Draco, as the new head of the Malfoy family, had made the executive decision to quietly mourn his father with his mother by his side, and then arrange for the body to be taken back to Wiltshire and buried in the family tomb. There was to be no funeral, and no wake. Draco told him it was because he didn't want the Prophet to gate-crash and slander his father even further than they already had… but Harry knew it was more to do with the fact that only two people would attend, and putting on such a grand affair as would normally be required for the death of a Malfoy would just be sad with only two guests.

Tired of feeling useless and having run out of homework to mope over, Harry spent his Sunday sitting at a table in the common room, scripting a letter to Kingsley Shacklebolt. So maybe he couldn't sit in on legal meetings or get into Azkaban with his boyfriend, but he could sure as hell get his boyfriend's mother out.

~.oOo.~

Draco returned from Azkaban pensive, but not unresponsive. He gave Harry a very distracted kiss as a greeting and spent the rest of Sunday night sitting in front of the fire. He spoke when spoken to, but otherwise gave no indication of wanting to actively participate in the conversations going on around him. Harry figured he had a lot to think about and let him be. He didn't tell him of his letter to Kingsley out of fear that it was too late and Narcissa's sentence was irreversible. All in all, it led to a very quiet evening, but not as morose as it had been before Draco's trip to the North Sea. The next day, Draco showed a turn for the better and the only indication that he lingered on his bastard of a father's memory at all was when he stayed up late, poring through the Malfoy family's ledgers and accountancy journals. He didn't apologise for any of the things he had spitefully thrown at Harry during his volatile times, but Harry didn't expect him to and they had no more fights after his return so Harry didn't look the gift horse in its mouth. After a week of Draco staying up late to look at his books, Harry started staying up with him, only having to semi-fake his enthusiasm for the business side of the Malfoy family. Eventually the frequency of the late nights dropped and Draco became more like his old self, sniping and snarking at anyone unfortunate to get in his way and leaving Harry to smile diplomatically and apologise in his wake. Harry didn't think he'd ever felt so pleased to see the sneer that marred his boyfriend's gorgeous features. The drawl paired with his best arrogant smirk resurfaced during sex, and if he occasionally heard Draco whisper 'thank you' again and again when he thought Harry was asleep, he didn't react other than to tighten whatever grip he had on the boy and kiss his forehead after the blond had fallen into slumber.

~.oOo.~

It was the first week of May when the Sunday Prophet announced:

THE SAVIOUR'S SAVIOUR, WRONGFULLY IMPRISONED, FINALLY RELEASED.

The article that followed took up about a quarter of a page, explaining how Narcissa Malfoy had lied to Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest which resulted in Harry Potter triumphantly thwarting the megalomaniac. It briefly covered a short interview with Kingsley Shacklebolt where he apologised for her imprisonment having happened at all. Harry frowned when he read that part as he knew that it was the majority vote from the Wizengamot that had sentenced Narcissa and that Kingsley had personally voted against her incarceration. He supposed that being Minister meant you had to apologise for things that you didn't necessarily agree with happening in the first place. The entire article was paired with an old, rather fetching photo of a glammed-up and elegant Narcissa Malfoy, smiling daintily at the camera, arm looped through another's whom could only be Lucius' but was cut out of frame. Harry felt his lip curl at the difference between being in the public's approval or the public's disfavour. Accompanied with the copy of the paper was a letter from Kingsley trying to explain his reasoning as to why he had banned Harry from the trial in the first place. Harry glanced a cursory eye over it, but ignored it otherwise. He had long ago forgiven Kingsley. He was hardly the first adult to take decisions away from him because they thought they knew what was best.

Draco had taken to ignoring the paper ever since the article about his father was published. Instead, any current affairs that were important to know for the Malfoy's businesses were published in one of the family books by the same protean charm that flashed bulletins on the Prophet. Therefore he wasn't surprised when he returned from breakfast to find his boyfriend lounging in his bed, luxuriously naked behind the heavy curtains of the four poster. Harry threw down a pain-au-chocolat and his copy of the paper and quickly toed off his shoes to sit at the foot of the bed, facing Draco.

"Really, Potter, I always think you know me so well," he drawled, holding up the pain-au-chocolat, then he gestured to the paper, "you do so love to prove me wrong." Opening the paper to use as something to catch his crumbs in as he munched on his breakfast, Harry felt the smile stretch over his face, inordinately large for what Draco had just said. Sure enough, the Slytherin's eyes narrowed at his grin and glanced down to the paper, snapping it shut to look at the front page. The pastry dropped to the bed, crumbs forgotten, as he picked up the Prophet with shaking hands and wide eyes, gaze lingering on the photo of his mother before devouring the article in seconds. "You…?" he asked breathless.

"I sent Kingsley a letter when you were visiting her in April." Harry nodded, "He confirmed with a couple of members of the Order then pulled all the necessary strings."

"I…" Draco still hadn't got his words back, so instead he carefully placed the paper down next to him and smoothed the pages out with still-trembling fingertips. Then he launched himself at Harry, who caught him and overbalanced and they both tumbled out of the bed onto the floor. Paying no heed, Draco latched his mouth onto Harry's as the Gryffindor gasped from the impact, and gave him a more thorough kiss than a Dementor could have managed. He pulled away with wet eyes and stared down at the brunet, stroking his face and smoothing his birds-nest hair back from his forehead. "Golden Boy Potter." He muttered under his breath and pressed a kiss to Harry's scar. Harry was still reeling from the novel sensation when a screech from behind them notified them of Ron's presence in the room and reminded Draco that he was very much, very naked.

In fairness to the Malfoy Head, his sneer was perfect and his grace commendable as he stood and wrapped a bed sheet around himself. Harry, still on the floor and staring up at him through wonky glasses, thought he had never seen anyone look so elegant dressed only in bedding.

Ron stumbled out the room complaining at the top of his lungs and Harry snorted, then started laughing as the embarrassment set into Draco and he flushed, delayed, before grinning too. He tugged on some comfortable clothes, then urged Harry to put on his shoes.

"Come come, Potter. We're going to visit the Headmistress. I have another home visit to pay, it seems, and this time, you're coming with me." Harry paled at the thought of re-meeting Narcissa Malfoy as the boy who was dating her son and stumbled behind Draco as he pushed through the crowds in the common room. He vaguely apologised to the disgruntled Gryffindors, and once they were outside the portrait hole, Draco spun on his heel, kissed Harry firmly on the mouth, and murmured,

"Thank you." Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair and watched as the blond's eyes fluttered close.

"I love you." He said by way of explanation, and kissed the soft smile that appeared on Draco's face in response.

~.oOo.~

The Three Broomsticks was bursting with activity, the Friday at the end of exam period. The final paper – Transfigurations' practical – had been sat that morning and nearly every seventh and eighth year was out in Hogsmeade celebrating. Harry, Draco, Ron and Hermione spent a short time chatting with Ginny and Dean (officially an unofficial on-again-off-again couple) and Seamus, Neville and Luna in the well-loved pub, before making their excuses and moving on to the Hog's Head. Draco ducked his head as he entered, not ready yet to look at Aberforth, but as it was, only Harry went up to greet the Dumbledore, with Ron and Hermione taking stance on either side of Draco and marching him to a table where he sat with his back to the bar. They lingered a while in the dingy pub, getting slightly merry on the Elven Wine that Harry had forked out for. When they departed, Aberforth waved at them, making sure to make eye contact with Draco. The older Dumbledore merely looked at him before nodding, and Draco unfroze and wandered off aimlessly to Ceridwen's Cauldrons as Ron departed for Honeydukes and Hermione for Tomes and Scrolls. This left Harry walking the high street searching for something worth looking at whilst Draco cooed over all the different types of glorified cooking pots he could find. He paused briefly outside Spintwitches, looking at the new quidditch boots they had out on display, before ambling down a side alley past Dominic Maetro's and J. Pippin's Potions before he stopped at the sight of a jewellery store, Magpie's Eye. The sandwich board sign outside proudly declared,

'Key cuttings,

Kneazle tags,

Crup collars,

Owl tabs,

Engravings and personalisation available on every item of jewellery,

Hogsmeade's experts in engagement rings, bonding bands and other ceremonial ornaments!'

He pulled out the pouch in his robes in which he kept his money, both Wizarding and Muggle, keys, the snitch that Dumbledore had given him and various other metal valuables. Throwing it up and down in his hand he looked between it and the sign and hummed thoughtfully before pushing the door open to a tinkle of a bell.

~.oOo.~

That night Harry and Draco escaped to the Prefect's bathroom for some much needed 'couples time'. Draco had been in a bad mood with Harry throughout the whole of exam period as Harry had instigated a sex ban after he realised that he was spending more time curled up in bed with Draco, basking in various afterglows, than he was revising for his Defence written. Draco had argued that Harry could take Defence in his sleep and still get an O and Harry had retorted that flattery wasn't going to get the boy anywhere. Draco had decided that if Harry wasn't going to deign to shag him, then there was no reason not to erect The Great Wall of Pillows in between them, snarking that at least something should be erect in their bed. Alas, the Wall got knocked down pretty sharpish that night once Draco realised that he wasn't going to be able to sleep without some form of physical contact with the Gryffindor.

So came the end of exams and the end of the ban and Harry was dragged by an excited Malfoy to the bathroom. He later dragged a smug cat back to Gryffindor, shaking his head adoringly as his stupidly posh git of a boyfriend preened and waddled with no shame, sashaying what must have been aching hips up the stairs to their bed.

~.oOo.~

"Oh I just know I got question 16 wrong on that Ancient Runes paper." Hermione worried as she nervously clicked her fingers on the book in front of her, diamond ring glinting in the sunlight. She had been systematically reliving every paper from the week previous and mentally checking off all the questions she was only 99% sure she got right instead of 100%. It was driving Harry mildly insane.

"Hermione, chill. We all know you're going to ace every single exam." He said as he rubbed a comforting hand up and down her arm.

"I can think of a much more enjoyable activity you could use that action for." Draco murmured in a low voice into Harry's ear. Harry elbowed him hard in the ribs. Draco had been insatiable in the past week and between him and Hermione's constant need for reassurance of her academic brilliance, he was practising the fine art of How Not To Throttle Someone almost every day.

"I thought I'd already more than made up for it. Or at least, that was what you told me amidst your moaning last time." He smirked as Draco scowled.

"You'll be fine, Hermione. More than fine, you'll be brilliant." Ron said, picking up her left hand and holding it in his right to stop the clicking.

"Yeah, Ron's always telling me how amazingly clever you are, 'Mione. So stop worrying. Results don't come out till the end of August anyway, that's 7 weeks away. You'll drive yourself crazy if you keep this up for that long." 'And the rest of us.' Harry mentally added. At that, Hermione turned to Ron.

"You tell him I'm amazingly clever?" She asked, cheeks pink.

"All the time." Ron answered gruffly, blushing to the roots of his hair. "It's true."

"Oh, Ron." Hermione sighed. Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless, silently getting up from the grass where they had been sitting by the lake and tugging Draco with him as he left the two spouses-to-be alone. He could feel the burn of a velvet box in his pocket, scorching his skin through his robes. It had been sitting there since they all went off to Hogsmeade at the end of last month. It was the beginning of July now and after dating Draco for almost 10 months, Harry had decided that they needed to have a conversation about what was happening with them after Hogwarts. He had been trying to plan how to bring it up with Draco ever since his conversation with Ron back in January had got him thinking about their future. Every time he thought it was a good moment to ask, something happened that derailed him, be it something external or his own courage failing him. And he was honestly nervous about it because, unlike Ron and Hermione, Harry had no guarantee that Draco would be amenable to the idea. He knew that Draco loved him, of course he did, but time was running out to talk about it with him. While he had been deliberating, Draco's 18th had already come and passed and Harry only had another 3 days left at Hogwarts before they graduated along with the seventh years.

As they passed into the Entrance Hall, Blaise Zabini and Gregory Goyle stepped out in front of them. Both Harry and Draco sighed loudly, not even bothering to hide their exasperation from the snakes. These two had never given up on the theory that Draco was only using Harry, despite the rest of Slytherin slowly coming to terms with the fact that they were in an honest relationship. It seemed that Narcissa's release only encouraged their theory, proving that Harry was merely a means to an end to Draco. What they thought Harry could do now, he had no idea. It's not like Draco had any other family members he could bust out of Azkaban.

"What is it this time, Blaise?" Draco asked, sounding tired.

"We figured that, since there's only 3 days left of school, you'd be breaking Potter's heart soon. We wanted to be there to watch." Blaise smirked at the couple as they rolled their eyes.

'Screw it.' Harry thought as he rummaged around in his robe pockets. 'Spontaneity always suited us best, and if it'll get these goons off our backs then all the more reason to do it now.'

Taking Draco's hands in one of his, Harry drew his attention away from the pair of Slytherins in front of them. "Draco," Harry said, ignoring the smirks that flitted across the faces of Zabini and Goyle, obviously anticipating some form of rejection. It didn't help with his nerves. "I've been thinking and thinking on this and how to bring it up and when the best time would be, and it's been driving me round the bend. Seeing as some people are still convinced we're going to break up before the end of term, I want to make sure that we don't."

"Just what are you insinuating, Harry?" Draco asked, eyeing his boyfriend suspiciously, gaze flicking from between him and his housemates. His eyes grew wide as he watched Harry produce a small black velvet box from the depths of his robes. He squeaked. "If that's what I fucking think it is, Potter -"

"I want you to move in with me." Harry interrupted, opening the box to show a small silver key on a chain. "The Order aren't using Grimmauld Place anymore and I thought we could do it up, make it our own. I thought you might not want to go back to the manor after…after last year. I mean, this is completely symbolic because we have magic and who needs keys nowadays anyway but, er, yeah." He trailed off and waited for Draco's reaction.

"Why?" He asked, breathlessly. Harry's heart sunk.

"Is that a no?" He asked, biting his lip and trying not to let his worry show on his face as he heard Zabini and Goyle snickering.

"No! It's a yes!" Draco cried out, grabbing the chain and fumbling with the clasp as he looped it around his neck. Harry reached out to help the blond's trembling fingers and Draco clutched at the key like someone was about to try and steal it. "You fucking prick," Draco sighed on an out breath, leaning against the wall behind him in relief. "Making me think you were gonna propose to me." Harry laughed and leant in to kiss him.

"I thought we might leave the teenage marriage to Ron and Hermione." He smirked, "But nice to know where we're at." Draco swatted at him, then turned to wave away the bemused Slytherins who stomped off looking furious.

"Oh how I do love to crush everyone's hopes and dreams." He drawled as he watched the pair leave. Harry rested his forehead against the blond's and fiddled absently with the chain around his neck.

"You've not done a very good job at crushing mine." He felt Draco try to raise his eyebrow against his forehead.

"Haven't I? Well I do hate to disappoint, I shall have to try harder then." He paused for a beat, then looped his arms around Harry's neck, pulling him in for a quick snog. "Mmm," He hummed thoughtfully. "Though perhaps I may love you more than I love crushing dreams." Harry grinned and slipped his hands down to Draco's hips. "I only said perhaps." The Slytherin was quick to repeat, but Harry only grinned harder and replied,

"Well, you've just ensured that I have years to change that into a 'definitely'." He pressed another kiss against Draco's mouth and swallowed his unhappy grumbles of,

"Dumb Gryffindork."

Story End.

A/N: Yep! They no longer get engaged. Sorry if people really liked that, but oh my god, reading this entire thing back was the hardest thing I've ever done, I was cringing at every other sentence. I mean, the sex scene was bad but jeez dat proposal tho. It was stuff fondue was made of. Cheese-be-gone and intensifying the fluff, this proved to be a lovely side project to the more pressing issue of exam revision. Sorry if the ending still seemed a bit rushed, but I just wanted to replace the crap that was originally here as quickly as possible.