Is it safe to come out now? *pokes head out cautiously*

Heh, so I have been apologizing left and right for the last chapter. Again, my bad. Plots will be plots.

I'm... guessing y'all wont be too thrilled at this next installment either. Just FYI- we are now hitting the angst zone and turbulence and sniffles is to be expected. Lucky for you, I HATE angst and I am getting through this at warp speed.

So here you go, enjoy (so to speak)

Lucius sighed as he heard the door of his study slam open. Honestly, Draco was a menace these days. Sometimes, he missed the good old days when he would stomp in here to scream at Lucius. Now he just barged in and interrupted his father's daily musings to prattle about the latest, amazing thing Potter had done. Lucius however was working, and he was not in the mood to sing praises of Potter the Magnificent.

"Draco, for the last time," he snapped. "I am happy for you - ecstatic, I assure you - but you are not to waltz in here unannounced and disrupt my… Mr Potter." Lucius stared at his intruder in mild surprise. The boy looked harried and anxious. He was even scruffier than usual and had clearly not slept. Lucius' sense of foreboding intensified.

"I won't take up too much of your time," Potter said. "I just came by to give you this." Lucius frowned but accepted the piece of paper from Potter. He glanced through it and took a minute to school his expression. "What's this?" he asked finally.

"I'm returning your money," Potter replied quietly.

"Mr Potter, we had a deal. If you think…"

"You misunderstand me, Lucius. I'm not going back on my word. I'm just returning your money."

"But your team… surely you…"

"I'll fund the Canons," Potter replied, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "My parents planned their fortune well. I have enough to see the team through, at least for this season. And a win should bring in more sponsors so…"

"Mr Potter, forgive me for interrupting," Lucius managed. His head was reeling. Why would the boy do this? "If you recall, I have seen your bank accounts in the past. This…" he gestured vaguely at the document "is roughly seventy percent of everything you own."

"I know."

"I'm afraid I don't understand. You don't have to do this. I have every intention of fulfilling our terms if that's what…"

"I love your son."

Lucius stopped talking. Potter's eyes were soft but his voice was calm and determined. He stood proudly before Lucius and spoke like a man who knew what he was doing. "He means everything to me. I can't do this to him."

"Mr Potter…"

"Please. Just take it. If there's anything you want to give me at all, let it be your blessing."

There was nothing for it. Lucius nodded slowly and folded the cheque, placing it in his desk. Potter visibly relaxed and as much as he hated to admit it, Lucius' respect for the younger man increased tenfold. He had chosen well, indeed. "You have it," he said finally. "Both of you."

"Thank you," Potter smiled. "I…"

He was cut off by an elf bolting into the office. "Master," it squeaked. "The paper, if it pleases you sir."

Lucius sighed and waved the elf off, putting the Prophet on his desk and giving it a cursory look. "More news about you," he drawled, making Potter chuckle. "That Skeeter woman really earns her pay with…" Lucius trailed off, staring at the headlines.

The Potter Malfoy Saga: All Secrets Finally Revealed!

"What on earth…"

Lucius snatched it up again and scanned the top story.

Oh no. Oh Merlin, no.

How had they even…

Potter seemed to have caught on that something was amiss. He grabbed the paper and skimmed through it. By the time he was finished, he was pale and trembling. "Shite," he whispered.

"They have no evidence," Lucius said firmly. "Nothing to prove it. I'll owl now and have a retraction printed by the evening. We'll demand a public apology and…"

"It doesn't matter," Potter said in a hollow voice. He looked stricken. "He'll know."

"Harry…"

"I have to go see him. I… I have to…"

"Wait, boy! Now is not the time to approach him. He'll… Potter!"

But the boy was already running full speed up the staircase. Lucius heard his frantic footsteps thudding against the carpet.

This was bad. Draco was going to…

Lucius shook his head. Draco could wait. Perhaps, Potter would be able to reason with him. The papers wouldn't. Now was the time for damage control. Steeling himself, he sat himself down to write out an owl to his lawyer.

The Prophet wouldn't know what hit them.

Harry flew up the staircase, nearly wrenching his ankle in the process. He ignored the stabbing pain and threw Draco's door open.

Draco was sitting on his bed, staring at the floor. The Prophet was limp in his fingers.

Harry's heart sank. His knees were weak and shaking. His fiancé looked up at him with hollow eyes. He had never felt so wretched.

"Draco…"

"All secrets to the inexplicable Potter Malfoy courtship have finally seen the light of day," Draco chanted tonelessly, his eyes not wavering from Harry's. They were bloodshot and tore right through him like a knife. "Sources and ceaseless investigations from our intrepid reporters have confirmed that everyone's favourite Quidditch team - the Chudley Canons - received a sizeable donation from one Lucius Malfoy earlier this year, propelling them into the season finals. As our readers will no doubt recall, Harry James Potter…"

"Draco, stop. Please…"

"…Harry James Potter," Draco cut in forcefully, his voice rising above Harry's plea. "…plays Seeker for said Canons - and is presently engaged to Malfoy's son and heir to the fortune, Draco Abraxas Malfoy. Coincidence? We, at the Prophet think not. The real questions still remain. Has our Saviour been bought? Have the Malfoys finally paid their way out of notoriety with a hundred thousand galleons? And has Draco Malfoy succeeded in forging an alliance…"

"Stop it," Harry whispered. "Draco, stop. Please stop!"

"An alliance that is for all practical purposes a business arrangement for his own…"

"Incendio!"

Harry watched The Prophet catch fire in Draco's hands. The paper frizzled and crackled, burning away the hateful, horrible words. Draco held on, watching with a detached fascination as the flames licked at his fingers. Harry couldn't stand it. He reached out to forcibly wrench it away. The sting of fire against his bare fingers made him gasp and his eyes water and he threw the horrible thing away, as far away as he could manage. Draco followed the movement with his eyes, watching dispassionately as it withered away to ash.

"Draco," Harry whispered, kneeling next to him and placing his hands on Draco's knees. He would beg. He would grovel if he had to…

Draco turned to look at him, and his eyes held the stillness of blank granite. He held Harry's own tearing eyes for what felt like hours. "Tell me it's a lie and I'll believe you," he said quietly. Harry clenched his fists and willed himself not to break down. The wavering, pleading note of Draco's voice nearly killed him inside. "Tell me it's a lie, Harry. Say it now and I'll believe you, no matter what."

Harry choked down a sob. "I can't," he replied, hating himself for it. What had he done?

Draco started trembling under his hands. He shuddered and pushed Harry's hands away as if unable to stand his touch any longer. Harry watched helplessly as he stood abruptly and retreated to the far edge of the room. Harry stayed where he was, watching the man he loved turn his back on him. Draco stared out the window Harry had once climbed in through, so long ago. His slender frame trembled violently.

"How long were you planning to pull one over me?" he asked. "For the rest of my life? Until you won the Cup?" He shook his head and laughed. It sounded choked and mildly hysterical. "Actually don't answer that. I don't know which answer is worse."

"No," Harry managed, shaking his head frantically. "I wasn't. I… I wanted to tell you, Draco. It's not…"

"More lies, Harry?" Draco asked dully. "I suppose that's fair. It's what my father paid for, isn't it?"

"Stop talking like this!" Harry nearly screamed. "Please, just… just look at me."

With shaking legs, he approached the blond and touched his shoulder. Draco yielded stiffly, turning around to face him. Harry suspected that if he could have, he would have pushed him off, hit him maybe. But all the fight had gone. He had broken Draco. The thought shattered him and tears streamed down his face.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, tracing Draco's pale features. "I'm so sorry."

"Get out."

"Draco, no! Please, let me fix this. I love you. I…"

"Don't say that," Draco pleaded in a shattered whisper. A single tear trickled down his face, tracing Harry's thumb. It burned. In that moment, Harry knew he would have done anything to take Draco's pain away. But he couldn't. Not now. Maybe not ever.

"Draco, I…"

"Get out, Harry. And don't come back. There's nothing more for you here."

He pushed him off and started walking away. "Draco, please…" Harry whispered. The blond halted and for a split second Harry hoped, he prayed that Draco would look back at him. He didn't.

"Good luck in the Finals, Potter," he said. His voice was cold, hard - devoid of any emotion. Not even contempt. Harry's shoulder's sagged in despair. He sank to the floor and the quiet click of the door closing shattered whatever was left of his heart.

Lucius approached his late wife's room with a heavy heart. This room held so many memories. Echoes of a wonderful life that were almost too painful to relive. His heart had healed after her passing - the process painfully slow. But Draco's… perhaps that's why he always sought out this place in his darkest hours.

He pushed the mahogany door open and cast a faint Lumos. Draco's blond hair gleamed in the light, as he sat hunched up on the floor. His head was bowed and his legs were tucked against his chest. He looked wrecked. Lucius' only consolation was that he seemed to be faring better than Potter. That boy had been a shadow of himself by the time Lucius had finally convinced him to leave. Potter had looked so shattered that he had forgotten himself for a moment and clasped his shoulder in a gesture of sympathy. Potter either hadn't or wouldn't notice. He walked away like an Inferius.

For now however, Lucius had his son to think of. "She would probably hex me if she were here today," he said. Draco started and looked up at him; not bothering to hide the tear stains against his pale cheeks. Lucius' heart clenched. "If you wish, you may certainly do so," he offered.

"Leave, Father."

He had never been the best parent. He had neglected Draco, chastising and criticising him at every step in his intent to discipline, and left the caring and coddling completely to Narcissa. He wasn't good at this and he half wished he could approach Andromeda for help. She had flat out refused and wasn't exactly speaking to him at the moment. So he was on his own.

However, doing as Draco asked was out of the question. He needed a parent's love and his mother wasn't here, no matter how much he wished she was.

Lucius would simply have to do.

He sat down on the floor next to Draco, absently wishing that the boy had chosen the bed to wallow in his grief. He seemed to have no intention of moving though, so Lucius sucked it up and stayed there with him.

"Why?" It seemed like ages had passed when Draco finally spoke.

"Because I was worried about you," Lucius replied. "You were unhappy and alone. And I thought Potter…"

"You paid Potter."

"That's really a very crass way of putting things but essentially, yes."

Draco turned his head and rested it on his knees, staring at him. Lucius met the gaze as steadily as he could. "Are you really that sick of me, Father?" he asked quietly. "You had to pay someone to take me off your hands?"

"Draco!" He couldn't help the shock in his tone. "How can you suggest such a thing?" Hesitantly, he reached out and carded a hand through his son's hair. Narcissa had always done it when he was upset. "You are my son. My one and only child. And I haven't said as much but I suppose I always thought you knew. I have loved you since the first time I saw you in your mother's arms."

"Then why, Father?" he whispered brokenly. "Why did you…"

"I can only offer you my reasoning, Draco. And my most sincere apologies. I am sorry, so deeply sorry for deceiving you. I did so with the best intentions and I hope that someday, that will be enough for you to forgive me."

Draco didn't reply. He let out a soft sigh and went back to staring at the wall. Lucius accompanied him in silence, until he felt compelled to say one last thing.

"I will however, not apologize for choosing Potter."

Draco stiffened and dug his nails deep into his shins. "You should," he said shakily.

"He loves you, Draco. He always has, though I suspect he didn't even know it at first - fool that he is. I saw it in his eyes even before I ever approached him. Do you perhaps, remember the time you went out with Roland Blake? The insignificant whelp tried to attack you and Potter defended you…"

Draco's head whipped back towards him. "How do you know about…"

"I'm your father, I know everything," Lucius informed him dismissively. "Anyway, one of those buzzards at the Prophet took a picture of you. I… acquired it and I saw for myself, the way Potter looked when he thought you were in danger. He looked like he would snap Blake like a twig if he so much as touched you. Do you remember that?"

By the sudden trembling of Draco's frame, it was clear that he did. "I don't want to talk about this…" he whispered.

"Hush, Draco. There are things I need to tell you, if only for my sake. I need you to understand that it was that look on Harry Potter's face, that determination to protect you that steered my judgement. If I had had any doubt in my mind that the boy would allow you to come to any harm, I would have rejected him in an instant. But he has protected you. He has cared for you. And despite what you may think, he has loved you."

"Stop it," Draco whispered. "I don't want to hear this."

"Draco," Lucius chided gently. He put an arm around his son's shoulders, allowing him to lean against him. "He returned the money."

Draco hissed as if in pain and hid in his shoulder. "That's not true."

"I wouldn't lie to you. Not now. He returned every last Knut I gave him, and he did it without a second thought. The truth is that he couldn't stand lying to you anymore. It is perhaps my greatest failure but I will admit it - Harry Potter has held you in greater esteem than your own father."

"He lied to me."

"Yes, he did. But he has also loved you. He is as broken without you as you are without him. And…"

"Stop," Draco demanded, a little frantically. "Please, Father. I… I don't want to hear anymore."

Lucius sighed. "Very well, son. We will speak no more of it."

Draco nodded and settled down against his arm. "I'm leaving tomorrow," he said. "I need to get away."

Lucius frowned. "Where will you go?"

"I have a place. I just want to… be alone for a while. Take my mind of everything."

Lucius nodded in understanding. "I won't stop you. However, I insist you tell me where it is you plan to go."

Draco met his eyes steadily. "If I do, will you tell Potter? Will you send him after me again?"

Lucius had half a mind to protest, but it didn't seem like anything would sway Draco. He felt a brief stab of pity for Potter and then shook his head. "On my honour as a Malfoy, he won't find out from me."

"Thank you," Draco whispered, leaning against him again. Lucius sighed at the warm weight against his own sturdy frame. He felt… content, despite everything. His son was here and safe. And he would heal with time. Draco was strong.

"I love you, Father."

Lucius closed his eyes, willing away the stinging prickle of tears. "I love you too, my son."

And then there was silence.

*sniffles*

Reviews, please?