Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter it belongs to J.K. Rowling and I do not profit off this story.

Warnings: SLASH M/M (don't like don't read), Post DH, and slight AU.

AN: Sorry for any grammar/spelling errors etc. This story does not currently have a beta. Thank you, again, for reading, reviewing, and alerts. This chapter is a bit longer since updating took awhile. Enjoy.

Love is Blind

Chapter Seven: When Enemies Agree

Ron took another sip from his coffee mug as Hermione continued to rant and rave about how he needed to grow up. He had this speech memorized so he nodded his head and answered right on cue.

"Honestly, Ronald, when are you going to start taking your life more seriously?"

"I do work at a joke shop, Mione." Ron replied.

Hermione huffed, loudly placing a plate of food in front of Ron. "That's part of the problem! George is a bad influence on you. I understand that you and Harry didn't want to continue your education, but at least he became an Auror. What have you done?"

"I did plenty in the bloody war!" Ron spat, shoving away the food filled plate. "And George needs me."

"He is a grown man-"

"Who's lost everything. You and I will never know what that's like and I want to make sure he doesn't do anything drastic." With that he stood from the table and headed for the Floo. "I'm off out."

…

George heard the hearth in his flat crackle with life, his eyebrows rising in surprise. It wasn't like Ron to be this early for work and it was even rarer that he used the flat entrance to the shop. Surprisingly, his little brother did respect his privacy.

"Morning." He called in a sing song tone, raising his cup of tea as Ron appeared in his kitchen. Ron merely grunted in response before making his way toward the kettle.

"Aw, what's wrong Ickle Ronniekins; did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?"

Ron scowled at the tone George used; he wasn't a baby and didn't appreciate being talked to like one. To emphasis how agitated he was Ron loudly clanged the spoon he was stirring in his tea and was sure to slam a few cabinet drawers closed before making his way down to the shop.

Ron despised how he would always be treated like a baby, no matter how old he got he was always, 'the baby brother'. It irritated him to no end and was not helping his mood improve after the spat he had with Hermione this morning. Harry was one of the few people who didn't treat him like an idiot and he missed having time to hang out like they used to. If he wasn't working, he was with Hermione and vice versa. It was killing him to see Harry in such a state and as a result he tried to busy himself with work. Something he thought he'd never do. Mindlessly, he restocked the shelves of the shop. Not even noticing when George came down.

"Malfoy sent us a letter," George announced. "Do you wanna read it?"

Ron's brow crinkled, unsure of what the letter could contain. Taking the letter from his brother, Ron began to read to himself out loud.

To Misters George and Ronald Weasley,

Upon further evaluation of Harry James Potter, it has come to my clinical opinion that he is in need of monitored supervision. I have volunteered my services, but wish to extend the invitation to you as well. I have made slight progress in terms of a solution to Mr. Potter's ailment and will contact you when more information becomes available.

If you have any questions come by my office or send an owl.

Sincerely,

Draco Lucius Malfoy

"What the devil is he on about?" Ron asked in disbelief. "I didn't hire that lil' bleeder to be a nanny! Harry is fully capable of taking care of himself."

"I dunno. Look at me, I'm fine. Tell the git to fix Harry's eyes or to piss off." George replied.

Ron thought about what his brother was saying, letting all the information sink in. George was not fine, as he called it. The war had changed him, no matter how much he denied it. Ron needed to talk with Malfoy. More importantly, he needed to talk with Harry.

…

Draco watched as the owl flew off with his letter to the Weasley Brothers. While, Potter would most likely be furious, he knew he was doing the right thing. Well, that is if you didn't think about the lucrative deal he had made the other night. Why had he agreed to it?

He had Astoria, but he had wanted Potter for ages. It had taken him awhile to figure out what exactly he wanted from the other man, but as he grew up his true intentions became clear. As a boy it was just to be liked. To be accepted. But Potter had denied him, and hatred began to stew within him. It was during the war he began to realize his feelings, and even now he wasn't completely sure. The war had caused him to grow up fast and it was there he learned the ugly truths of being an adult.

If he could take back his choices, he would, but the reality of it all was that he couldn't.

He'd done terrible thing to others and himself during that time. The Manor had been crawling with Death Eaters and the Malfoys hadn't been safe in their own home. He wasn't sure if his mother and father knew of what went on behind closed doors, and if they did they never spoke of it. Even the strongest locking charms couldn't keep the Death Eaters out of Draco's room.

A shudder ran through him as memories flashed before him briefly. Being so tired it hurt, but too afraid to sleep. Sleep was a weakness and it left him wide open for assaults. He wasn't proud of what he had been forced to do, but he was too much of a coward to die. He'd slept with people in exchange for protection. Knowing full well what a night in bed equaled .He never said no for his family's sake. He would just lie back and think of England.

He slipped into this desk chair, wanting nothing more than just lay his head down and sleep. Potter was nothing but trouble. Maybe if he went to sleep he'd wake up and find this had all been a nightmare.

"Oi!" a voice boomed right before Malfoy's door swung open. "What the bloody hell are you on about?" Ron yelled, as he waved Malfoy's letter in his hand.

"It's called knocking, but I guess that didn't exist in your hut, did it, Weasley?" Draco said, waspishly.

"Piss off!" Ron growled through clench teeth. "I make just as much, if not, more money that you do now, ferret. Now what the fuck is this letter about? Harry is perfectly sane and able to look after himself."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Then you're stupider than I thought. Honestly, how oblivious are you to the world around you, Ron."

The redhead flinched, never hearing the pureblood say his first name before. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Hermione was always telling him he needed to control his temper. "Why would you think Harry would hurt himself?" He asked in all seriousness.

Because he agreed to let me fuck him, Draco thought. "He's sacrificed everything and now there is nothing else left. If I were to heal him, I promise you it will only be a matter of time before he was hurt on duty again, or worse killed.

"H-how do we make him better?" Ron asked, weakly. The reality was settling in and the last thing he wanted to do was lose his best mate. He'd lost enough in the war and he was determined not to lose Harry again.

"Visit him. Remind him how much you all care. I'll be there at least once a day to check up on him. I don't want him to have a bad reaction to any of the potions." Smooth, Draco, He thought to himself.

Ron heaved a heavy sigh. "Alright, I'll talk to everyone and see if I can't find people to pop in and check on him."

"We can make a schedule. I don't care for visitors when I'm working with patients."

"Yeah…" Ron trailed off, lazily. "I'll come around later. I have to owl some people."

…

George watched his brother write another letter. He'd been quite ever since returning from Malfoy's office. "Are you sending out wedding invitations? Mum'll be upset that you're not including her."

"No," Ron replied as he continued to write. "I'm writing the old gang to come visit Harry. Maybe it'll cheer him up and help him recover."

"Recover from what?"

Ron looked up when he heard his brother's voice turn sour. "Just, you know, from the accident."

"Bullshit," George called. "What nonsense did Malfoy put in your head? Did he tell you Harry was mental because of the war? Look at me, I'm fine. I don't need any recovery; it's all in the past."

Ron bit the inside of his cheek. He always tried to be careful around his brother, but it was becoming obvious that neither George nor Harry were alright. Hell, no one was alright after a war.

"If you really loved him, you'd let me do this and not be a prick about it." Ron mumbled while looking George in the eye.

George scowled in return. "Whatever, go ahead and send the bloody letters for all I care. Let me know you stop believing this load of bollocks Malfoy is spoon feeding you, and tell me when you think Harry and I are all better."

Ron watched George storm off and felt a weight lift from him. It was the first step to helping his brother and Harry and he was going to see this through till the end. Merlin, help him.

...

Blaise absentmindedly sipped his drink as he watched Draco stress over the Potter situation. Why the blonde would always tell him about his problems was beyond him. He cursed himself for being a good friend. "You're sure you're not doing this to get back at Weasley?"

"No," Draco answered. "That's just a bonus. There is really nothing in it for me to hurt Potter. I was only a Death Eater out of fear and necessity. Honestly, I never wanted to hurt anyone…"

"I know, Draco. We all did things we regret and didn't want to do." Blaise comforted.

"I should have stayed neutral like you."

Blaise poured Draco another cup of tea, hoping to soothe the blonde and his woes. "We both know that would have ended badly. You wouldn't be here now."

"Fuck, why does growing up have to be so hard?" The blonde asked to no one in particular. "Thanks for listening to my problems."

"Who else would? Goyle is denser than Weasley and Pansy has a big mouth." Blaise said as he waved his hand dismissively.

Draco chuckled lightly. Truer words were never been spoken. The two fell into a comfortable silence, until Blaise brought up the unavoidable topic of Harry Potter.

"So, you never explained why you'd be willing to cheat on Astoria with Potter."

"Because I couldn't have him before," Draco interjected. "He was dangled in front of me for seven years. You should know I always get what I want, Blaise."

"Still don't see what you like about the bloke." Blaise grimaced, as his tea had gone cold. "If you say his eyes then you and your father take your Slytherin pride too far."

Draco's expression hardened at the mention of this father. "Speak of the devil; he's being released from prison at the end of the week."

"What?" Blaise said, breathlessly.

"Mother wrote me the other day. Apparently something about good behavior…" Draco muttered.

"But that's great, isn't?" Blaise asked. "I mean, you haven't seen him in years."

"I don't know." Draco answered, honestly. He was nervous to see the man that had dragged their family name through the mud. He was even more nervous to see how much his father had changed. "Think I'll go to Hogwarts. There is someone there who I trust to give me good advice on the matter. Do say hello to Luna for me."

"Cheers."