Disclaimer: Characters are, of course, owned by J.K. Rowling. I own nothing, but oh yes, I'd so love to borrow Draco indefinitely.

Look at the Chapter's end for notes.

Chapter 7

COMING HOME

I was stumbling, looking in the dark
With an empty heart.
But you say you feel the same;
Could we ever be enough?
Baby we could be enough!

And it's alright,
Calling out for somebody to hold tonight.
When you're lost, I'll find the way,
I'll be your light.
You'll never feel like you're alone,

I'll make this feel like home.

Home by One Direction

"Home?" Ron repeated the word incredulously for the fifth time in the past minute, every time sounding more and more frantic.

"Since when does Harry call any place other than Hogwarts home?" Neville pried, ignoring Ron's agog expressions and sheer inability to form coherent sentences at the moment.

"He never does. At least he's never done before." Ginny reciprocated, the sides of her mouth still quirked up, forming a ghost of smile on her lips. Both Ron and Neville looked at her intently, clearly waiting to pry more scoop out of her mouth as she pursed her lips into a thin line, becoming well aware of her bewildered surroundings. 'Well if you want to seem subtle, you must actually hold a rigorous check on your barmy expressions,' Her conscience chirped inside her head. She ignored the 'ever-so-nosey-yet-alarmingly-accurate' inner lady inside her mind and sipped form her near empty butterbeer mug. Ron groaned at her in frustration. And she shot him an amused glare, quirking up her eyebrows when the ginger shoved two fingers in front of her face.

"Don't worry Ron. I'm sure even Harry doesn't know what he's doing these days." Luna lilted in her dreamy voice. "It's the nargles in his head that's making him go giddy. Nargles, funny creatures they are, I tell you. There have been theories about them stating that these invisible little fluffy fellows can make people – "

Luna continued her little revelatory talk, earning three pairs of perked-up ears intently listening to her. But Hermione was far from grasping any of the words coming out from her blonde-haired friend's mouth. Her eyes were still trained on the fireplace Harry had just flooed from and something about the whole abrupt leaving and the 'home-calling' part hadn't fitted properly in her otherwise clear head. There was something going on. Something she had no idea about.

Hermione, for once, had never liked puzzles. And whatever Harry was up to these days under the influence of the 'clearly invisible Nargles' (if she put it in Luna's words that is) was nothing more but a hippogriff sized puzzle to her. She did have a theory of her own though. A theory she had conjured from watching all of Harry's recent actions raptly and a theory she hoped was just a theory and not the truth because she was hell bent sure it lead Harry covertly towards the one person he shouldn't be heading to; Draco Malfoy.

The thoughts had started plagiarizing her brain ever since Malfoy had set his foot in the burrow the very first time and Harry had been too stunned to react that he'd spent nearly a light year gazing at the blonde, unclear emotions etched upon his face. And then it'd just been the minor curious looks that she had casted on her best friend in the past few days that had lead her to the final conclusion of her vague hypothesis; Harry James Potter was somehow very very attracted to his arch-nemesis and he was utterly oblivious of it himself. However the puzzle that swayed in her mind wasn't about what she had concluded, rather it was about what Harry was upto with all of this. He'd been acting strange, certainly. And Hermione could bet a hundred galleons without even batting an eyelash and without even the fear of losing a knut, that Harry was still oblivious of his attractions towards Malfoy. Yet he was somehow trading that path steadily, without even paying any heed towards the stop signs flashing on his way. Hence what wicked plans were brewing their ways inside Harry's head was what was baffling her to no extents.

Firstly, accepting Malfoy to stay with him, it was something she would have sworn Harry would never agree to. But he had, albeit grudgingly. It wasn't like she didn't consent to the idea of Malfoy sharing a household where he'd be safe from the ministry and other loose Death Eaters, but it was the fact that Harry had agreed to accept Malfoy into his family after only mild persuasion that left her fazed. She'd thought Harry would throw a major fit, rile out his anger at the blonde and act like a grumpy child for days when Sirius or Remus would try to confront him about the matter. But no, of course he had thrown a fit (of a very minuscule intensity, if she'd be honest) and then he'd agreed. He'd agreed to share a roof with Malfoy. That unquestionably had been a major step from Harry's perspective towards whatever pact he was making with Malfoy.

And then he'd acted rather weirdly with Malfoy around. He'd boiled with anger when Malfoy had crashed into their room the other night and sneered down at them but that was just what was to be expected from Malfoy. Nothing out of the blue. But what Harry had done after Malfoy had retreated back was surely unforeseen. He'd bolted behind Malfoy with his anger fuming, making him look almost predatory. And Hermione was sure that'd have ended in at least one hexed body. But surprisingly ( or rather unsurprisingly ) enough, it hadn't. A few minutes later, when Harry had returned, though she had acted as if she was fast asleep tugged in Ron's bed, she wasn't. She had planned on staying awake until Harry had returned, in case he'd need help in putting off the hexes Malfoy would've thrown at him. But what image had met her eyes had been entirely different; unexpected too. Harry hadn't been angry anymore. He had been in deep thought. His face had been contorted as if in confusion, his brows knitted together, worry lines lacing his forehead and his body shaking as if in fear. She'd never seen him so unnerved before. Not even when he'd willingly walked into the forbidden forest to offer himself as the brave and courageous sacrifice lamb to Voldemort. Harry had looked terrified. And Hermione had known something had happened between the two boys at that very moment. She had tried picturing every possibility as to what'd have happened back in Draco's room that had Harry so nerve-wrecked but it had all been in vain. And when Harry had propelled back on to his bed sighing, she'd swore to herself she'd soon find out what was going on in his head. 'She had to know and she would,' She had promised herself before drifting to sleep draped in her fiancée's arms.

And the most frustrating part of that stupid puzzle was that she had no idea what was going on in Malfoy's manipulative mind the entire time. Of course she had kept a hawk eye on him after noticing her best friend's behavior towards him. She had noted the way Malfoy had stopped sneering down at Harry. How he'd refrained from insulting her and Ron and Ron's family the entire time he'd lived with them. How he'd conjured the calm and collected attitude ever since he had returned to the wizarding world. Also it hadn't slipped her notice the way he'd look at Harry for minutes altogether when he was sure nobody was watching. There had been something in the way his eyes would regard Harry that made her think that maybe just maybe Malfoy felt the same for Harry. But then again she couldn't be entirely sure. This was Malfoy, and he'd left no stone unturned in making all their lives as miserable as he could back at Hogwarts. Though he had even helped them during the war, at the manor, she still didn't fully trust him. Not with Harry involved in the situation. Certainly not.

"Mione." Ron bellowed for the third time, hovering too near her ears this time to make her jump in her seat.

"Merlin Ronald. What?" Hermione snapped at her boyfriend, frantically trying to ease her deafened eardrums.

"You spaced out." Ron shrugged.

"You okay 'mione?" Ginny asked, looking concerned and glaring daggers at the same time towards her nitwit brother.

"Yes Gin. I'm fine. I was just. . thinking, that's it."

"Thinking about what?" Ginny inquired.

"It's. it's just that. I- I don't know. Maybe what Luna said. About Harry and Malfoy, I do think they're getting along rather well and that might be a star–"

"Merlin the mother of seven bastard elfs Mione!" Ron shrieked. "You don't really think Harry has a thing for that foul ferret now, do you?"

"No Ron. I didn't say that. Well, not yet. It's just that their equations are changing with the time. Honestly, don't you see? They no longer fight or brawl like enemies. They get along by putting up civil conversations and agree to each other's prospects. That certainly seems like an end of the rivalry to me." Hermione remarked. "And it seems like a start of something new, something beautiful." She added in a hushed tone.

"Sure it does." Ginny acknowledged. "Besides they stay together now. It's supposed to break that veil of enmity between them. And Merlin knows how much I want to see Harry happy! If Draco is what it takes to see a genuine smile on his face I'd gladly accept that blonde prat in a heartbeat" She purred happily and Luna hummed in agreement. Ron grunted at his sister's words once again.

"Malfoy is a prat but he certainly isn't a bad person, Ron." Neville interjected, looking at Ron's glum face.

"Oh Bollocks, Nev not you too mate." Ron whined. Why was everyone so determined to seek that Ferret's redemption today?

"No mate, I've seen him in the past two years and I must say he's trying to change. I'm not sure how much he has accomplished in it but he sure seems to be trying hard. When Harry and you guys were hunting down the horcruxes, Hogwarts had been doomed. Snape being the headmaster and the Death Eaters taking over the teaching staff, it was horrible. And among all that mess Malfoy was the only Slytherin to have the guts stand up to his own people. He had once saved me from getting punished by one of the Death Eaters teaching at the school when I had refused to use one of the first year student as an experiment animal for my potions. And he had hexed a Death Eater when he had tried to broach on Pansy Parkinson's dignity in one of the class. He had also stood up to the Carrows when they made teaching of the unforgivable curses compulsory for all years. Rumors say that he was crucioed by his father umpteenth times for defying Voldemort's followers like that." Neville whispered.

"He was crucioed by his own father?" Ron gasped. This absolutely wasn't something he'd like to hear happen to any human being, not even to his greatest enemy. There was a reason those curses were called Unforgivable. He shuddered at the mental image his mind provided him of Lucius Malfoy pointing his wand at his only son and whispering the curse with a disgusting expression resting on his face.

The air around their table thrummed with tension and distress. Nobody spoke for a very long time. It seemed as if each one of them was trying to wrap their mind around the fact that they still hadn't fully grown out of the horrors of the war, even if it was over. They all had their own demons to fight and suddenly Draco Malfoy didn't seem like an 'enemy from the other side to them', he seemed like a warrior of his own wars just like they all were. Forthwith, Draco Malfoy didn't feel like their old-school rival but just another casualty of the war who had been marred by nobody else but his own Father and a madman.

"I hope Harry finds what he's looking for." Luna mumbled in a very soft voice, as if the glum feeling dreaded to take over her dreamy reverie.

"And I hope Malfoy doesn't act like the infamous git he's known to be and gives Harry everything he deserves." Ron sighed, clearly feeling the guilt of his own words uncork within him. He'd been an idiot. He'd never tried to see Malfoy in any other light than the outright prat he'd been during their school times. He'd never really pondered about the reasons why Malfoy was being that way in the first place. He'd never really thought about why Malfoy had chosen the path of following a lunatic when he had never been one to follow anyone.

Hermione placed her hand on her boyfriend's arm, squeezing it gently and smiling towards him whole-heartedly. Finally he did understand it in the end.

"Oh Merlin, I'll need another firewhiskey to gulp all these epiphanies down my throat." Ron chuckled, once the tensed atmosphere around their table had settled down.

"Me too, mate. Me too." Neville joined in.

When Harry flooed home that evening, all he had looked forward to was spending a good evening with his 'friendly enemy' and watch some silly movie on the telly with him and have a decent dinner later that night and spend some time with his God father and Moony all the while teasing the other boy and having playful fights with him like they had earlier that day. But what met his eyes as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace at Grimmauld Place left him aghast. On the couch in front of him were seated his two old professors with their backs turned towards him while his God father had been seated in the armchair beside the couch, Remus standing beside him, his hand placed firmly on Sirius's shoulder and they both looked strained. If that view had sent a small hint of fear in his system, what he saw next had him shook. Draco had been sitting on to the floor by the huge umbrella stand, his legs drawn up to his chest, head bowed down between his knees and one arm hugging his bent legs close to his chest. Severus Snape was sitting beside the boy on to the floor upon his knees, his black robes pooling onto the floor behind him. He was whispering something that Harry couldn't make out clearly, and his hands held on to Draco's left forearm that was bleeding. Bleeding. Bleeding? Harry's eyes widened at the sight of the blood gushing out from the pale forearm where it had been sliced open; the dark mark that marred that otherwise beautiful pale skin dissected into two halves and a stream of crimson red fluid flowing down steadily from that gash.

"Malfoy." Harry dashed towards where Draco was slumped against the wall, ignoring the five pairs of eyes that followed behind him. Draco was bleeding. Bleeding. His mind was continually voicing out that word and he felt sick even at the silent sounds of it.

Draco jerked up his head at the sudden familiar voice that boomed through the whole room, voicing out his name. Harry. Harry had rushed to his side now and was looking frantically between his face and his bleeding hand, as if trying hard to decipher what had happened. He flinched as he saw the Dark Mark up so close on Draco's forearm for the very first time ever since the war. He knew there was no reason for him to blanch at the site of that hideous imprint but he still did. Until now he had never thought anything along the lines of Draco being a former Death Eater and Voldemort's follower; he had left those thoughts way behind when he had agreed to let Draco stay with his family. He had accepted Draco as nothing else but his school time rival that he got into brawls with for reasons as silly as irritating each other and basking into victory as one of them suffered with embarrassment and at times, detentions.

And even Draco had never broached on that particular matter and had been careful all the time to hide that hideous impression on his forearm from everyone; wearing only full sleeved clothes whenever he'd been around any mere human being. He had never let that impression of his downfall show to anybody until now; especially not to Harry. Well but now, Draco assumed, the damage had been done. The Mark stood revealed on his pale skin and Harry sat there mere inches away from him, regarding it with blank expressions on his face. And Draco felt panic rise in his gut. For once he wished he could see what was going through Harry's head right about now.

A painfully long second later, Harry let out his breath. He never knew he had been holding it ever since he saw the mark itched on Draco's skin. And slowly yet carefully he slid down closer towards Draco and took his bleeding hand into his own from Snape's hold, earning a half-hearted glare from the Professor and a shocked gasp from Draco. These bolts of lightning every time their skins touched, Harry shook his head to clear those thoughts from his mind and focus on the more important task at hand. He looked up from the wound and for a split second his eyes met Draco's and everything else seemed to have blurred into the background. The sudden motion with which Snape had collected his body from the floor to stand upright beside them and the four pairs of footsteps that had made their way towards them by now, stopping right beside where Snape stood, nothing had mattered. All that mattered was the slow growing tingles of lightning that flared through their bodies at their contact and the way their skins felt so oddly sensitive beneath their touch. And as the grey bore into emerald, a silent agreement made it's way between them. Harry tore his eyes from those enticing Grey orbs almost painfully as if looking away from them actually hurt and pulled out his wand from his back pocket. He trained the tip of his wand at the wound and looked up once again, to make sure if he should go on and Draco as if understanding his dilemma nodded in response. "Vulnera Sanentur" Harry whispered softly. The wound, immediately obeying the spell, started to heal. Two more chants later, the wound finally closed on itself, leaving behind no scars on the soft skin beneath it other than the ugly mark; still very much in intact in it's and very much visible.

Harry pulled his wand off and stared at the Dark mark for a moment longer before releasing Draco's hand from his grip. Almost all of the sudden, his body felt numb as the jolts of lightning disappeared with the lost contact; he felt incomplete. And as if Draco had sensed the same thing, he looked up at Harry, the same look of wonder on his face.

"Harry, my boy." Dumbledore's calm voice made Harry jump in surprise from his place beside Draco on the floor. He looked up behind him to see his old headmaster looking down fondly at him and Draco; his blue eyes glinting with happiness.

"Professor," Harry acknowledged. "I- I am very sorry. I didn't – I mean I was so – I'm sorry sir."

"No my dear boy, don't worry. There's absolutely no need for you to apologize Harry. What you did was very gallant of you; reaching out to help Mr. Malfoy from his distress. I admire your courage Harry." Dumledore said, once again glancing down from his half-moon frame towards Harry and Draco and smiling fondly at their closeness. A faint blush crept up on Harry's face and neck as he saw the way his headmaster was regarding their current situation.

"Albus, I think it's time that Harry should know." Mcgonagall interjected, making her way from behind Snape towards where Dumbledore stood.

"Ah, yes. I reckon it's time." Dumbledore asserted. Making his way back towards the couch, he continued, "Harry I know this may come out as a bit of nasty shock to you," Harry snorted at that. Honestly when has his life been anything but nasty shocks. "But I wish for you to continue your education at Hogwarts for the final year. And so must Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore announced.

"I have to do what?" Harry asked absurdly and Draco snorted from beside him. Harry resisted his powerful urge to retort back to the blonde for taking that piece of information in a comical way and continued to stare wide-eyed at the old headmaster.

"Yes Harry. It's imperative that you return. And so is it for Mr. Malfoy. I know you have made up your mind to join the ministry as an auror under Kingsley's guidance but I consider it is rather blatant for both you, young men, to finish your education first. It wouldn't be prudent of you to leave your studies mid-way nor would it do any better for your future." Dumbledore regarded Harry with a calm voice once again and before Harry could mouth another stupid question, he continued, "As for Mr. Malfoy, we've already talked to him about this before your arrival Harry and you'd be surprised to know he has already agreed." Harry couldn't believe his ears. He turned to face Draco with an appalled look on his face. Did he really? Draco nodded towards him in an silent agreement. Oh Merlin.

"But –he can't." Harry bellowed. "He can't go out there. He cannot be seen in the wizarding world or else the ministry will –they'll," He couldn't form the rest of the sentence without getting those mental images of what the ministry would do to Draco if they found out he was still alive. What the fuck is wrong with Dumbledore? Doesn't he know that Draco cannot be seen anywhere in the wizarding world or it'd cost him his life? Doesn't he understand the whole prospect of Draco staying at Grimmauld place for his own safety and how can he go on to continue his education at Hogwarts where he can be easily spotted and killed by the ministry aurors? And what the fuck is wrong with Draco himself? How could he agree to go back to school when he knows for sure what would happen to him once he sets his foot anywhere outside in their world.

"Harry, listen to me." Sirius's voice broke him from his reverie and he turned his gaze towards his Godfather. Surely his Godfather would understand. "Harry, I know what you must be thinking but trust me this is for Draco's own good,"

"Draco's own good?" Harry yelled incredulously. They've all gone bonkers. "How is it going to be for his own good when he wouldn't even have the time to decide between what's good or bad once the ministry comes to find out he's still alive?" He was practically hyperventilating now but he didn't care. He wouldn't let Draco walk into a death trap just like that. If that bastard had wanted to have a death wish he shouldn't have come back into Harry's life again in the first place. And now that he'd been back, Harry wasn't going to let go of him so easily without putting up a fight. Definitely not.

"The ministry has been informed already Mr. Potter. As soon as Mr. Malfoy had agreed, that is." Snape's cold voice hit his senses in a revolting manner. The ministry has been informed already. Draco had agreed. He had consented to inform the ministry that he was still alive. He was walking into his death trap head-on. When Harry looked back at Draco once more, he found him already staring back at him. And for the second time that evening, Grey clashed with emerald and a shiver ran down Harry's spine. Draco was staring right at him, his eyes trained on his; as if seeking out what emotions Harry had been feeling at the moment, as if searching for his consent towards his agreement; which Harry was determined not to provide. So, he just let his gaze turn cold towards Draco and snapped back towards his Godfather. "So then we let him walk head-on towards his confirm death," his breath hitched at the very word, death, "then I don't understand how exactly does Hogwarts plans to educate him further?" He voiced icily, making sure every word was laced with as much bitterness as he could muster.

"Harry, this isn't the way you think it is." Remus finally broke his silence as he made his way towards Harry and stood beside him. "The ministry has agreed to hold up a trial for Draco. The Wizengamont has agreed to hear out Draco's side of story before deciding anything." He reassured the boy beside him, putting a firm arm around his shoulder.

"Hold up a trial. Wow." Harry snapped. He was fuming with all the pent up anger now. He stood up abruptly, jeaking off Remus's hand from his shoulder and turned to face straight towards the three professors, his face grown red with anger and his green eyes blazing. "The Wizengamont will hold up a trial to do what precisely? Publically defame him and his family name once more only to throw him into Azkaban the second he finishes his testimony? Or worse, kill him just like they killed the other Death Eaters?" He was all but shouting on the top of his lungs, not giving a damn about his old headmaster or the two professors standing beside him, looking all gob smacked.

"Harry, NO." Sirius yelled back at him. "You don't understand! This is for his own good. He has to face the world someday. He cannot be staying into hiding for the rest of his life for Merlin's sake Harry! The boy's got to get on with his life at some point and keeping him tucked in here for an entire lifetime doesn't even sound pragmatic." Sirius had never thought he'd be using such a tone on his own Godson but for some unexplainable reason he considered it was the only way Harry would listen to anybody at the moment. He's James's son after all. Defiance runs in his veins. His face softened when he saw Harry's face fall but he continued, in a gentle voice, "Harry, I know this seems hard to take in. But there's a way out of it. Trust me."

Harry had never imagined his Godfather would use such a harsh tone on him, ever; atleast not when he was almost an adult himself. Listening him yell like tha reminded him of his uncle, Vernon Dursley and he flinched at the memory. But then after a moment, Sirius's voice grew softer, gentler when he spoke again; he might have noticed Harry's reaction to his previous tone of voice. And what he said after that made Harry look up at him in almost an instant. A shimmer of Hope beginning to rise in his eyes. A way out of it. A way to save Draco.

"A way out of it?" Harry voiced his thoughts, now looking more keenly towards his Godfather and the three professors standing in front of him.

Seeing Harry's sudden change in demeanor, Sirius let out a relieved sigh. The James's son tactic finally worked. He mentally congratulated himself and turned towards Draco instead. All this while Draco had been still slumped against the wall, never muttering a single word; silently watching the whole ruckus and eyeing Harry with mixed expressions on his otherwise calm face whenever Harry said something.

"Draco," Sirius said calmly.

Harry had nearly forgotten about Draco's presence in the room among all the fuss. His anger suddenly melted away when he heard a faint , "Potter," from behind him. He turned in his place, facing the blonde and in a flash he felt all his anger and frustration sweep away. He's still here. He's still alive and human. He's still got a chance. He's not going to die. I won't let him. He is not supposed to die or rot in Azkaban; not after all this time. Somehow within the last two days Harry had come to a certain realization; The Draco Malfoy that had returned after the war wasn't the same person he had been before the war. He had changed. And the boy standing in front of him at this very moment wasn't the shrewd, biting and caustic Malfoy he had been all those years. This boy had a strikingly contrast personality; with slumped shoulders, massive eye bags around his otherwise beautiful face, trembling hands and a dull gaze adorning his previously glistening icy grey eyes; he was nearly as damaged human as Draco Malfoy could be. And Harry had mentally swore to himself that he'd do anything in his power to save this broken soul.

"Potter," Draco spoke again, this time with more ferocity to catch Harry's attention. When he was sure Harry had recurred from his musings, he continued, "Look Potter, as much as I'd appreciate your concern about my well-being, I'm sorry to say that I don't want it. I'm not a victim here so for Merlin's sake stop treating me like one. And get your thick head bundled in a rug because I'll need it intact for when you'll have to testify in my trial." He let out a caught breath and looked at Harry. Harry was staring right back at him, wide-eyed. A smug grin started to form on his face seeing Harry so astounded. Finally the dimwit did understand.

"Tes –Testify for your trial?" Harry spluttered. So this is what it is all about. He has to testify on behalf of Draco in front of the Wizengamont in order to save him. Of course! The Wizengamont might never believe Draco to be innocent but it would never question the beliefs of 'The savior of the Wizarding World' even if they lay on the side of an ex-death eater. That way the Wizengamont will have to oblige to Harry and set Draco free from all the charges. And Draco will have a free life after that. He could easily go back to Hogwarts to complete his education, and start up a new life after that with the new found notion of 'Not Guilty' flaunting upon his character. It was all planned. Of fucking Course!

"Yes, Potter. That is if 'The Golden Boy' sees it fitting." Draco replied with a trace of mock in his tone.

"Of –Ofcourse. I mean –Yes . Yes I see it fit – I will." Harry finally spoke. He would certainly testify for Draco if that meant the blonde would be free. Definitely he would. Draco's face broke into a shy grin as Harry voiced his agreement. But Of course the irony of their situation hadn't gone unnoticed to him; Harry Potter was there to save his day, yet again. If he'd be honest to himself, he had lost the count of times when Harry had saved him from perils like this and he was overwhelmed to see that after all the vicious things he had said or done to Harry, he was still very much willing to save Draco. Always the Hero.

"Always the brave Gryffindor Hero, aren't we Potter?" Draco remarked, still grinning at Harry.

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry retorted with his own grin spreading across his face. "I'm Sorry Professor." Harry mumbled slowly, turning towards his Professors; his ignored all this while Professors. "I will most certainly bespeak on behalf of Malfoy." He said with reassurance. Dumbledore's eyes once again sparkled with delight as he nodded in agreement. Mcgonagall who had been standing there the whole time, quietly watching the scene unfold in front of her, also smiled back at Harry in a comforting way. And Harry could swear he saw Snape's lips curl a little into a small smile but the professor soon recovered to his sneering façade.

"I knew you'd understand Harry." Remus acknowledged Harry with a tight hug while Sirius beemed with a satisfied smile and patted Harry's head. And Harry, for once, let him dishevel his already messy hair without a care, reveling in the overwhelming feelings that had erupted in his own gut. He was going to save Draco.

Though, their small family union lasted only for a while when somebody behind them scoffed. Harry broke from the embrace and faced the other occupants of the room. Apparently it was Snape that had disturbed their display of affection, Harry noted. Snape cleared his throat once more before speaking and began, "Now if you may Mr. Potter," he gestured towards a letter in his hand and continued, " Hogwarts would like to know if it's Saviour," Snape curled his lips in distaste at the word to give it a dramatic effect, "would be returning to complete his education or not. Though, I personally find it completely absurd for the 'boy who lived twice' to be in need for anymore guidance from mere wizards like us, I must assure you it would be worthwhile. " And with that Snape sneered down at Harry.

Now a year ago, if Snape had said this to him, Harry would have sworn Snape had meant it in a completely spiteful manner. But now, Harry knew it was just a mask that the Professor adorned and he never meant it in any other way than affectionately. Harry's relationship with Snape had undergone a drastic change in the past one year, during the war, when he had found out that Snape had been on his side from the very beginning and he had only done those horrible things that he did to gain Voldemort's trust and spy for the Order. Yes, Harry had been terribly mad at him when he had killed Dumbledore on the Astronomy Tower in his sixth year after Draco had failed to complete the task and he had mourned for his Headmaster's death along with the whole school. But it was only until he had been confronted by a very much alive Dumbledore a week later that he had learned Snape's hidden secrets and the headmaster and potion professor's collective plan to show the wizarding world that Dumbledore had been killed so that Voldemort would be satisfied with Snape's alliance in his Death eaters group and let out his most hidden plans to him. Dumbledore had been killed, no doubt, but it was only one half of the story. What the wizarding world didn't know was how Snape and Mcgonagall had later altered the timeline with the help of a time-turner and saved Dumbledore and kept him hidden from everyone so that Voldemort would grow blind in his new found powers and thus when the Elder wand would defy him and he'd be in his most vulnerable state, Harry could strike at him and kill him. Their plan had worked at the end because Voldemort had done exactly what was expected from him and that had led to his downfall. And Harry had been so moved by Snape's loyalties towards Dumbledore and himself (not to mention the strange feeling he got as Snape being a kind of Father-figure for him after he found out about the professor's feelings for his late mother) that he had nearly hugged that man. (also not to mention that that was the only moment when Snape had hugged him right back, with an ferocity so intense that Harry had felt as if it wasn't just Snape's arms around him but also his mother's too.) Hence, whatever Snape had spoken to him after that, in any way, was taken as an affectionate way by Harry because he knew that the man could never display care and comfort like other humans did. But Harry knew he cared. He had Always cared.

For a moment, Harry hesitated. Did he want to return to the place where he had seen so much of destruction and war casualties and deaths? Did he want to bear the weight of his title and go on with it? Did he want to go back to the world that had given him so much but taken away as much in return? He turned to look at Draco for another fleeting moment, to see what he might be thinking about it when he saw Draco smiling fondly at him. A genuine, heart-felt smile that reflected in his beautiful eyes, the tug of his mouth reaching his ears as he nodded towards Harry; and for a microsecond, Harry's heart skipped a beat. A sudden rush of adrenaline pumped in his system and Harry was sure about his choice this time. Very sure. None of the above fears stood a chance when he had now seen that angelic look on the blonde's face; the look he (and he alone) had won. Draco had lowered his defenses and walls around his heart and was inviting Harry in his space and Harry was determined to grab that opportunity.

"Yes, Professor. I certainly would be returning." Harry replied, accepting the letter with a snobbish grin plagiarizing his face.

Later that night, Harry found himself standing in front of Draco's bedroom door. After the scene at the hall, Harry had been uncharacteristically cheerful. He had spent a good amount of time with Dumbledore and Snape while his Godfather, Remus and Draco had taken up the task of irritating Mcgonagall beyond her wits. After the Professors had departed, they had satisfied their grumpy stomachs with a Chinese takeaway dinner and subsequently parted to their respective bedrooms. Harry's mind had been nudging him constantly to go and talk to Draco as he laid on his bed, but he had gained an upper hand to it and refused to do so. Although, an hour later, sleep had evaded his body as an unanswered question rung in his brain. So, here he was, standing in front of Draco's bedroom door. As he was contemplating the ways he could broach the talk with him, the bedroom door suddenly cracked open and Draco stood there in front of him, wearing only his black silken pajama bottoms. Harry's breath hitched as he took in the half-naked blonde's appearance; the way Draco's platinum blonde hair took a striking contrast against his pajama bottoms, the way his broad shoulders stood stiffened, the way his toned arms, though lean, looked muscular enough without any kinds of fabric hiding them, the way his chest heaved with every breath, pale, smooth, scarred. . . Scarred. His eyes widened with horror as his gaze traced the scars marring Draco's pale chest. They looked surprisingly familiar and a faint feeling of nausea overtook his senses. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out and he stood there gaping at those slash marks like he had been petrified.

"What are you gaping at Potter?" Draco drawled, finally breaking Harry from whatever spell he was under.

"Are –Are those?" Harry gulped. He couldn't even muster the courage to complete his question.

"Yes, they are." Draco answered nonchalantly.

"Oh." was all Harry could say. They were his scars. His doings. He had marked Draco when he had slashed open his chest by that stupid Sectumsempra.

"Though Snape healed the cuts, he couldn't heal the scars. They would stay forever no matter what I do." Draco whispered softly.

"I'm sorry." Harry mumbled. Draco let out an indignant laugh, "Honestly Potter, I've gotten over the fact that you have infinitely ruined by beautiful body by your daft actions."

Harry looked up at Draco, his wide-eyes growing more wider (if that was even humanly possible). "You have?" he blurted.

"Yes I have. I know you didn't mean to injure me back then. I am sure you didn't even know what the spell does until you used it on me. So, I cannot blame you." Draco sighed. Harry didn't know what to say next so instead he just nodded and stood glued to his spot.

"So for what do I owe this pleasure of the famous Harry Potter standing outside my bedroom door?" Draco asked again as he realized Harry wasn't budging from his place.

"Er, I wanted to ask you something." Harry answered, peering behind Draco into his room. Draco, understanding Harry's motive stepped aside and gestured Harry to enter inside his room.

A strong scent that smelled exactly like Draco filled Harry's nostrils as he stepped inside the room and stood beside the study table, unsure if he would be welcomed to sit on the bed instead. Draco followed Harry inside the room and took a seat on the side of the bed, motioning Harry to do the same. As Harry sat beside him on the edge of the bed comfortably, facing him, Draco raised an eyebrow to him in question. Harry understood the action and shifted in his seat, sucked up a deep breath and took Draco's left hand in his. 'Here we go,' a faint voice inside him mumbled as the familiar jolts of tingling lightings shook his entire body at the contact. Draco looked up at him from beneath his blonde fringes as similar jolts ran down his spine. Harry turned scarlet at the questioning look in Draco's eyes but didn't let go of his hand. To be honest, he was enjoying these feelings and he yearned for more.

"How did that happen?" Harry questioned, gently rubbing his thumb over the Dark mark on Draco's forearm.

Draco stiffened at the question. He had been caught off guard while he was musing over the strange tickling feels inside his skin. Harry was questioning him about the mark. What was he supposed to say? "Voldemort gave that to me." He replied, unsure if Harry would be pleased with the knowledge although he knew that Harry knew that already. So why was he asking him about it after all?

"I didn't mean the mark." Harry snorted. "How did you happen to cut yourself earlier in the evening?"

"Oh." Draco relaxed. "Seems like you're not the only one who acts impulsively Potter." He remarked teasingly. When Harry's face contorted in confusion, he continued, "When Dumbledore first told me about the trial, I was horrified. He didn't let out about how they were planning to make you my witness and so I feared that there was no way I would be forgiven by the Wizengamont. Hence I acted out. I thought if this stupid mark wouldn't be branding my forearm, I might be saved from Azkaban."

"So you sliced your arm open?" Harry chocked out. "Are you insane Malfoy? What the bloody hell were you thinking?" He stood up abruptly, jerking Draco's arm away. "You call me a daft idiot where in you're the one who really is daft."

Draco laughed mirthlessly, "Careful, Potter. If I didn't know you, I'd think you have started to care."

"Bloody well yes I do. I do care Malfoy," Harry hissed. "Unlike you, I care about the people around me and I fucking have started caring about you, you insolate arse."

"Well why do you?" Draco raised his voice just as much as Harry's and stared directly into Harry's eyes. "Why would the Great Harry Potter care about a Death Eater scum like me?" he grunted.

"The war is over, Malfoy. And you have very well shown where your loyalties laid during it. You're not a Death Eater like your Father," Draco flinched at the mention of his father and broke the stare; looking down at his own hands in his lap but Harry didn't care. He had to get that shit out of Draco's head anyhow. "You're not your Father, Malfoy. You aren't cruel and horrible like him. You're not a murderer. You had no choice. You're just like the rest of us. You did everything just to save your family, like we did, like everyone did. And in the end you too have suffered the loss." Harry stated calmly. He sat down on the bed once again and slid close to the other boy until their sides were touching, spreading those trickles of touch once again. And Draco looked up from his hands to Harry, a glimmer of fire burning in Harry's eyes met his gaze and something inside his stomach flipped, in a pleasurable way. His emotions were a wreck at the moment but somehow they didn't feel as haunting as they always felt with Harry by his side. Pools of tears filled his eyes, threatening to fall as Harry once again reached out and took his marked forearm in his hands, tracing his warm fingers over the cold imprint. Draco averted his gaze from Harry's eyes to their hands in contact. "You're no assassin, Draco." Harry breathed out.

And then the strangest thing happened; Draco turned his hand and laced his fingers with Harry's, tears slipping down his cheeks slowly. He didn't look at the raven haired boy, but Harry didn't need Draco to look at him. So Harry rubbed gentle circles on the back of Draco's hand with his thumb and allowed silence to fall over the two of them; but this silence wasn't awkward, it wasn't uncomfortable. Instead, it was the perfect thing they needed.

"Thank you, Harry." Draco whispered, his voice barely audible. Harry could only hum in response and he gave him a reassuring squeeze.

And Harry realized that holding Draco Malfoy's hand felt exactly like coming home.

A/N : Hiya readers, I hope you're all enjoying the weekend. Again, I'm heartily sorry for the late update but being in Med school has it's own woes. I hope you all enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, as I had stated in the last chapter, about the big surprise, it has been disclosed in this one. Yes, Harry and Draco are going to attend their Eighth year at Hogwarts! Look forward to many common dormitory, dinners at great halls, potions with Snape and exhilarating quidditch matches moments.

Don't forget to leave a review to this chapter if you liked it. I'd really be happy to get more reviews about this story as this is my first attempt at writing and I'm desperately looking for motivation. Your reviews would help a lot, so pretty please, do review. It might help me to update soon too.

Much love,

Dranne.