A/N: I made another chapter to make up for the current and future gaps between chapters. THIS ONE ENDS IN A CLIFFHANGER. So, if you don't want to wait until mid July to know what's going on, I suggest you don't read it... It's a bit shorter than the previous one, and, again, unbeta'd. Anyway, enjoy (and rate and review for my imaginary brownies). :)

I lay on the bed, eyes closed, floating somewhere between the land of sleep and consciousness. Harry's arm was wrapped around me, and he leaned against me, his body pressed against my back. I could feel whispers of his breath on the back of my neck, and couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto my face. The moment was perfect. As revoltingly cliché as this was, we didn't need to say anything around each other; as long as we could stay together like this, I knew I would be fine. As if this was some scene out of a Muggle movie, his lips brushed against my skin. I smiled wider, and leaned my head back.

"Draco, I love you." This time I didn't hold back. I was ready to say what I had to, regardless what others would think of me.

"I love you, too."

A particularly bright ray of sunlight found a way to settle on my face. Even through my closed eyelids, I felt blinded, and with an irritated groan, I shoved a pillow over my head. My head was pounding, and I really just wanted to get back to my dream. It was starting to slip from me, but I could dredge up something about Harry and a setting that reminded me of a bad romance novel. All in all, I really didn't feel like I should be awake yet. Apparently, Thomas disagreed.

"Rise 'n' shine, sleepyhead. I have something that you want." I removed my pillow to shoot him my evilest groggy glare, only to find him holding a vial of something.

"What's that?"

"This? This would be a lovely little dose of hangover potion. I think you had a bit too much to drink. Although, not as much as Seamus. After you fell asleep, he woke up, decided to go upstairs, and break into a chorus of 'Tomorrow.' I'm sure it would've been very amusing if we didn't all want to kill him."

"Glad I was asleep for that, then." I covered my head with a pillow again. "I don't want any potion. I just want to go back to sleep and dream up some more ridiculous situations. Go away."

"Ridiculous situations? Do they involve you and Harry sitting in a tree s-n-o-g-g-i-n-g?"

"Maybe. Now Disapparate before I curse you."

"I'd be careful. He actually has sent a fairly decent hex my way before," came Blaise's muffled commentary.

"Yes, I have. Go away." The pillow was pulled off of my head, someone quickly placed me in an upright position, and as soon as I opened my mouth to release a spew of curse words, the hangover potion was shoved down my throat. It tasted bitter and disgusting; I started coughing. "It tastes like earwax."

"On the plus side, it has caffeine in it, so you'll be awake in no time." I scowled at them, and noticed that the dull stabbing-like pain from the sun was slowly turning more bearable.

"You two are awfully cheerful for early morning."

"Well, actually it's two in the afternoon, but, I guess we are," Thomas said, grinning far too widely for my still slightly foul mood. He leaned over and wrapped an arm around Blaise. Blaise immediately stiffened his smile fading slightly as he pried Thomas' fingers off of himself and edged slightly away.

"I'm going to the kitchens to get some coffee for Draco. You just tickle the pear, right?" Before either of us could reply, he stalked out of the room. Thomas sighed and sat beside me.

"He's been getting slightly better, but he still is shy to show any sort of affection in front of anyone. For Merlin's sake, you know better than most people that he cares...at least somewhat. I just wish he would stop being so insanely stubborn about it." Thomas buried his head in his hands and sighed heavily again. His happy mood was obviously no more, at least, for the moment.

"I'm sure he'll come around," I muttered stiffly. I didn't quite feel like having a heavy conversation currently.

"Sure, he will eventually, but what will it take? Do I have to go into a coma like Harry did? You weren't comfortable with it either until recently. Does it honestly take a near-death experience for you to realise that it might just be possible that you're in love with a Gryffindor? Is it that awful an idea for you?" He had crossed too many lines. Maybe it was because some of the things he had said hit too close to home, but in any case, I just wanted him to shut his damn mouth.

"Fuck off, Thomas. Maybe he just isn't attracted because you're throwing yourself at his feet like the poof you are." His cheeks turned red, and his jaw trembled slightly.

"Poof, is that what I am? You're one too. I'd rather be too eager than try to deny it and act like a self-righteous bastard."

"Just because we actually care what others think about us doesn't make us self-righteous bastards. And you think you're so pure an innocent just because you're in Gryffindor? Eager, you say? Eager like a slut."

"Fuck you, Malfoy. The only reason you're acting like this is because you just don't give a shit about Harry. You just want him to get back so you can use him like a puppet." That was beyond anything I could stand. He could call me a poof and a self-righteous bastard, but I wouldn't stand him telling me I didn't care about Harry. My hand reached into my robe pocket, and I took out my wand.

Rather inconveniently, Blaise chose this moment to walk into the room. "What the hell's going on? Put your wand down, Draco."

"No." I raised it, trying to think of the first curse that would come to mind.

"Put the fucking wand down!" There was the sound of a cup breaking, and my wand flew out of my hand. There was the sound of pounding feet, and several people began to gather around the staircase to the common room. I didn't pay any attention to them. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy?" His eyes were wide and his pupils dilated, and his nostrils flared slightly.

"Thomas thinks he's so clever and knows everything about me."

"Like you're any better." Thomas scoffed.

"What's going on here?" Granger suddenly walked down, away from the spectator gathering in the staircase, and gave everyone a rather McGonagall-like glare.

"Thomas said that I just wanted to use Harry as my puppet."

"He what!" Granger looked truly shocked.

"Oh, you're not telling the whole story. Malfoy called me a slut."

"You're the one who said you were eager. And you called me a self-righteous bastard!"

"Well you are! You called me a poof and told me I throw myself at people's feet."

"Only because you do. And you said that the only reason I admitted to caring about Harry was because I – because he's in the hospital in a coma. He said that if he wasn't going to die, I would have continued to deny it, and that I would have gone around like Blaise, acting like I didn't care. Acting like Harry was just someone I owned, not someone I truly cared about because I was too afraid to admit that it was possible that I could love or be in love with anyone...let alone a Gryffindor. That it was just impossible for me to see the truth about anything unless I was forced to. That I was so stubborn to try to deny emotions... That Harry could mean more to me than anyone else..." I realised I had been rambling, and swallowed roughly, my eyes burning and threatening to tear up.

"Malfoy..." Even Thomas didn't sound angry anymore. "Merlin, are you alright?"

"I didn't just say any of– If anyone asks, I'm just as– I'm not weak." No one said anything in response to that, and I looked down at the floor, unable to look any of the Gryffindors in the eyes.

"You think that about me?" Blaise asked Thomas. "You think that I don't care about you?"

"It's not that I think that you don't care. I just wish that you would show it more often..."

"I don't– I mean, I do care– I just... I need a moment." He ran out of the room again, looking utterly confused.

"Well, this has become quite an afternoon," Granger mumbled. "Malfoy, are you sure you're alright?"

"I don't need help. Or your sympathy." I regretted saying that immediately, expecting her to get angry at me, but instead she grinned.

"That's more like the Malfoy I know. For a second you worried me."

"Merlin, Malfoy, I thought you were only made up of insults," Weasley said from the stairs. "Do you think it's safe to walk down here? We're not going to get cursed?"

"I think I'm fine for now..." I walked over to where my wand lay, and tucked it back into my robes.

"Should I go after Blaise?"

"I think he needs time to think things over, Dean. Sorry." Granger gave him a sympathetic half-smile, and walked over to a table. "Well, why is everyone just standing around. Shouldn't you be doing your homework?" I chuckled and walked over to the table to join her.

"Now that you mention it, I still have to write that Potions essay." I got down to write a response, but after half an hour of furious scrawling, I found myself yawning and falling asleep. There wasn't much interesting about ingredients and their effects in various potions, after all. I leaned my head down, and closed my eyes, promising myself it would just be for a moment, but of course, that was a lie.

"Draco, were you really scared of saying you loved me?" We were lying in the same bed as earlier, but now we were facing each other. His green eyes were tired, but it was undeniable that he was happy.

"It's the Slytherin in me," I muttered, looking down at his neck. I leaned forward to kiss him, but he pulled away.

"Don't give me that excuse. We both know that's not true." I sighed.

"I was raised thinking that love was merely...a sign of weakness. It's not that I didn't care about you, you have to know that! I mean, I wouldn't lose my social standing and risk my life for just anyone – especially a Gryffindor." I grinned, crinkling my nose at him. He didn't reply, but just stared at me expectantly.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" I didn't know what he was waiting for.

"Well, are you going to kiss me or not?" I gladly obliged.

"Malfoy, time to wake up." I yawned and stretched out. My head rested against a sheet of parchment, and I lifted it up, peeling the paper off. Granger giggled.

"What's so funny?" I ran a hand through my hair, only to realise it wasn't greased back. It must have been all over the place!

"Your hair looks fine. Stop fretting about it. What you should be fretting about are the words 'dried mandrake root' stencilled on your face." She giggled again. Of course, I'd fallen asleep on my Potions assignment – my Potions assignment that still had wet ink on it. I conjured a mirror and looked at the mess that should have been my ink-free face. Indeed, the words were fairly boldly printed on my face.

"Oh, that's just blood brilliant."

"Here. Just sit still for a moment." I did as I was told, and she raised her wand.

"Erm, this isn't going to hurt, is it?" She just flicked her wand in response. I felt a cold rush in my cheek, almost as if someone had splashed it with icy water, and then nothing. "Is it okay?"

"Good as new. And Ron told me that spell would never be useful." I shrugged.

"It does seem a bit random."

"Still, it helped you!"

"True enough. I guess I can't complain." I yawned.

"Don't tell me you're still tired."

"Well, yesterday was quite a night." What had happened yesterday dawned on me for the first time today. "Hey, wait a moment, why did you make me – well, you know, with Weasley?"

"I thought Zabini explained this already."

"Something about it not being awkward and all..."

"He's mentioned it today. Or at least, I mentioned it and he started blushing." She grinned. I never would have thought Granger would be the scheming type. "And he hasn't said a negative thing about you today." Her face scrunched up for a moment. "Actually, I think that has more to do with the fact that he's terrified I'm going to do something else like that to him, but that's not the point!"

"Right. Well, I'm going to go find Thomas."

"Dean went to go find Blaise. He still hadn't had shown up by the time you fell asleep, and Dean was getting a little worried. Something about coming off as too harsh..."

"Oh, well, I'll just go to the library. I need to work on the Potions homework, anyway." She sceptically raised her eyebrow, but said nothing.

xXxXxXxXx

I hadn't tried flying by myself since I was little. The only time I usually spent on a broom was during Quidditch practices, but I always felt free flying with wind whipping at my face. I was sure Harry felt it too; didn't everyone who played Quidditch? There was nothing better than the drop in my stomach when I swooped down or the feeling of freedom when I soared meters above ground. It gave me an unrivalled feeling of happiness – not even a stolen piece of melt-on-my-tongue chocolate compared.

It felt odd to mouth and kick off the ground when the field was nearly empty. I took it slow at first, flying around in circles above the pitch. "Neither Malfoy nor Potter have spotted the Snitch yet. Both of them fly steadily in circles, waiting for the moment to strike." Perhaps it was cheesy to narrate it, but I couldn't resist.

The wind up here was fairly rough. It was pushing me around quite a bit, and things were getting kind of boring just circling around the pitch. Suddenly, I swooped down. "Malfoy's seen the Snitch. He dives down – look at that form. But wait, Potter speeds up, takes over him. Malfoy won't give up that easily, though, he speeds up his broom –" I did just this "–and – can it be – he's overtaken Potter! They're going down rather low. Will he be able to pull up from this dive? Will he?" Of course I could. Grinning like a madman, I pulled my broom up, caught the invisible Snitch and jumped off my broom. "150 points to Slytherin. They win the Cup!"

Out of nowhere, applause suddenly erupted from one person in the stands. Looking up, blushing, I found none other than Lovegood walking down to meet me.

"You did a nice job pulling out of that last dive."

"Erm, thanks. I swear I don't do this often. Actually, this is the first time I've done anything like that. And I've never narrated before," I defended myself.

"Really? If I was nearly as good on a broom as you are, I'm sure I would do it all the time." She smiled sweetly and continued walking. I paused, and she looked back. "Are you coming along? A few Umgubular Slashkilters have been spotted around here recently…or so Daddy says." She smiled again and continued walking. I caught up with her, slightly confused. I was tempted to ask what those creatures were, but I remembered hearing that it was best to smile and nod when Lovegood mentioned any unknown creature. Her father, after all, managed the Quibbler.

"So, why did you come out here?"

"Well, it was a nice night. I decided to walk around and look for moon frogs. Daddy says that a few have somehow managed to migrate from the moon. Anyway, then I saw something flying around in the sky, and I decided to investigate. It turned out only to be you, but you were flying quite well, so I decided to stay and watch."

"Thanks. You don't seem frightened of me." In fact, she was rather friendly. Even Granger sometimes acted reserved toward me.

"Why should I be? Harry trusts you, and I do trust his judgment. And in any case, Hermione told me that she had done some sort of spell. If you'd wanted to hurt anyone, you would have done it by now." She shrugged as if this was a simple fact.

"But Harry's in Saint Mungo's…"

"Yes, and you've had a mental breakdown because of it. And you didn't escape unscratched, either." She pointed to my arm. At some point, the sleeve must have rolled up somewhat, and my scar was exposed.

"That's nothing compared to what he has. The scars on his face…" I shook my head sadly.

"Want to go to the kitchens?" As odd as this girl was, I found myself strangely fascinated by her, and agreed.

xXxXxXxXx

The painting swung open after she tickled the pear. "Dobby? Winky?" I coughed.

"Dobby?"

"Hello, Ms. Lovegood, Ma'am. Dobby sees you have–" Dobby also stopped in his tracks as he saw me. "Mr. Malfoy…" He backed away, trembling.

"I – I won't hurt you. I swear I've changed. I don't want to be like my father."

"Do you two know each other?" She looked confused, and her head went back and forth from Dobby to me.

"He used to be my house elf. Dobby, I promise I won't hurt you."

"Ms. Lovegood, Ma'am, Dobby is not so sure…"

"Oh, he's trustworthy now, Dobby, don't worry." She smiled and entered the kitchens further as if this resolved the matter. "Where's Winky?"

"She's not quite feeling well. But she'll be back later tonight." His tennis ball eyes never left me. Gods, I felt guilty.

"Oh, that's a shame." Lovegood turned around and sat down on one of the tiny stools. "And how are you?"

"Dobby is doing quite well, thank you. Any news on Harry Potter?"

"Harry's going to be okay!" I shouted before I could help myself. "He's coming back from the hospital soon. And he's probably out of his coma by now."

"Yes, Hermione did tell me that you told her that." Dobby managed a smile.

"Mr. Harry Potter is going to be alright? That is indeed wonderful…Mr. Malfoy."

"What if he comes back and I'm not there?" Lovegood chuckled.

"I think I'll have to skip tea this time, but I'll come to visit soon." She got up and skipped out of the room, her radish earrings bouncing with each step.

"Goodbye, Dobby. And I'm sorry." I looked him in the wide eyes and attempted a smile.

"It's alright Mr. Malfoy." It was nice to make amends.

xXxXxXxXx

The portrait swung open, and Lovegood followed me inside the common room. Most people were sitting around talking, and merely shot a glance our way. Thomas and Blaise seemed to have made amends, and they sat side by side. Blaise still looked outside his comfort zone, but I couldn't help but notice that his hand was slipped inside of Thomas'.

"Hello, Luna," Weaslette called. A few more greetings bounced around the room, and I slumped down beside the couch, using it as something to lean against.

The moment I did, however, the portrait hole swung open again. My mouth went dry. I had to be dreaming. Harry stood with the portrait framing him. It was like something out of a fairytale. He looked exactly like he had before the attack, with the addition of a few faded criss-cross scars on his face. I felt my body whirr into motion again, and I scrambled to my feet. I flung myself at him, and, for once, I let tears stream down my face. My arms wrapped around him, and a stream of nonsense flowed from my mouth. "Gods, Harry. You're back. You're okay. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. You shouldn't have come. But you're okay!" Before I could say anything else, his arms moved from his side, and he shoved me off of him.

"What the hell are you doing? Get the fuck off of me, Malfoy?"