Disclaimers and Warnings from earlier chapters stand.

A/N: I had the choice to make this chapter too short or too long... Considering how long it's been since my last update, I decided for too long so you can consider it a two-for-one package deal.. ;)

Sidebar: I put in a little something for PhoenixPixie.. See if you can't spot it! ;)

Happy reading and please review! :)

After what seemed like ages of utter bliss, they parted, coming up for breath. Harry sighed and opened his eyes to see Malfoy starring back at him with glazed grey eyes. He smiled. Couldn't help himself. Then winced when his ribs twinged as he tried to move backwards off Malfoy's lap.

Malfoy sighed and let go of his jumper, smoothing his hands down his back. "You're an idiot, Potter. Seriously. You're meant to be resting those ribs, not tricking the Mediwitch into letting you out early."

Harry grinned and tried not to arch into the touch. Stretching of any kind was out for the moment. More importantly, he didn't want to alert Malfoy into stopping what felt like unconscious movement of hands running up and down his back. "Come now, Malfoy. There'd be no more snogging and wrestling if I were more careful with my ribs."

The berk blushed. "Yeah, well. You're still an idiot."

Harry swallowed the laugh he wanted to give. Malfoy was cute when he got flustered. Who knew!

Harry edged backwards again, a little more cautiously. Malfoy scrambled to his feet as soon as his legs were free, then offered his hands. Harry smiled and allowed himself to be hauled to his feet. He tightened his hold when Malfoy made to let go though. He looked up at Harry, startled.

"Hi."

Draco snorted. "Hello to you too, Potter."

He tried to free his hands again but Potter held on. Draco shifted on his feet. He didn't know what Potter wanted from him and that was making him nervous.

Potter took a step closer and kissed him once before leaning back, grinning at him. Draco stared at him, wondering where this was going.

"So, you in a hurry to get somewhere?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Stick around then. Come on, we can go to the Quidditch pitch and make fun of the Ravenclaw tryouts."

"I thought you had Granger and the Weasel waiting for you."

Potter hesitated, then made a face. "Oh yeah. Forgot about that. Okay, tomorrow. When're you free?"

Draco stared at Potter for a minute, wondering if he was hallucinating or if Potter really was arranging a ... date ... for lack of a better word. But he continued to stare at Draco with that earnest expression and the soft smile in his eyes didn't go away. "Umm, I don't have any classes after lunch."

"Excellent. How about we meet for lunch? I'll raid the kitchens and we'll have a picnic."

"Umm..."

"Come on, Malfoy. You're more likely to not be in the Great Hall for lunch these days. No one will notice if you're missing tomorrow as well, if that's what you're worried about."

Draco hadn't actually gotten that far in his thinking. The entire situation was surreal. Here he was arranging a lunch date with Potter ... and there really wasn't any better way to describe it. And not ten minutes ago all of this was as far from possible as it was to get. Practically in the realm of Potter being the next Dark Lord – which really made you wonder.

"O-k, I guess."

Potter either didn't hear the reluctance in Draco's voice, or was choosing to blithely ignore it. "Excellent! Entrance Hall after your last class finishes for the day?"

Draco nodded mutely.

Potter grinned, gave his hands a squeeze and finally let go. "You coming in now? I'm running a little behind."

Draco shook his whirling head. "I think I'll stick around for a bit."

Potter nodded, took a step away, then whirled around and grabbed Draco by the nape of his neck, pulling him into a bruising kiss.

Draco swallowed his almost-moan as the kiss continued for long moments. His knees were a little shaky as he watched Potter take off for the castle, skipping every third step.

Harry was whistling as he entered the Eighth Year Common Room. He looked around for Ron and Hermione and spotted her stepping off the stairs that led to the girl's dorms.

"Harry! Oh good, I was afraid I would be the last one to arrive and Ron would never let me live it down."

Harry laughed, took two steps towards her, gathered her up into his arms, bulky, pokey books and all, and twirled her around and around.

Hermione squealed. "Harry! Put me down."

Harry laughed again, then set her down on her feet, holding on to one elbow to make sure she kept her balance.

"Well. It's nice to see you so happy, Harry. Can I ask why the sudden overflow of exuberance?"

Harry flopped into a couch by the fireplace. "What? Can't the sight of one of my bestest friends make me deliriously happy?"

Hermione cocked one eyebrow at him.

Harry waggled his in return and grinned at her. "And just FYI, Ron still isn't here. Which means you can nag him about being late all you want once he gets here."

Hermione huffed and took a seat opposite him. "I do not nag, Harry. It's just good for you boys to be reminded of the important things once in a while."

"Evidence to the contrary, your honor: Incident one: Breakfast. Incident two..."

"Alright already. That's quite enough of that."

"Mind you, I'm listing just the incidents that occurred as of this morning. I don't think we could adequately list every incident of nagging behavior."

"Yeah, well, judge rules: Not guilty."

Harry guffawed as the portrait hole behind him burst open and Ron piled in.

"I know, I know! I'm late! But you had to see this. Sweet nibblets, it wasn't to be missed. The Ravenclaw tryouts were a fiasco!"

"Ronald, you take entirely too much pleasure in other people's pain."

Ron pouted at her as he flopped down next to Harry. "I didn't put all three of the Ravenclaw chasers in the Infirmary mid-season." He grinned. "I didn't even arrange for it to happen in my absence. That was just a freak accident. I mean, how do three players end up getting unseated by one bludger? When it wasn't even a match!"

Hermione just shook her head, so Ron turned towards Harry. "No seriously. It was mad. Practically the whole school turned up to see the tryouts too. I was hoping you'd be there, Harry. I couldn't find you when me and the boys were headed out."

Harry smiled at Ron. He couldn't seem to stop smiling. "I was out by the lake." He shot a glance at Hermione. "Brooding, as our 'Mione is wont to say."

Hermione just shook her head and gave him a squinty look. "Well, you seem happy enough now, so no harm done, I guess. Now what are we going to do with our 'scheduled fun-having', as our Harry is wont to say."

"Raid the kitchen!"

"Honestly, Ron. You would think that was a given with you part of the plan. Is there anything else you had in mind? Harry?"

"Ron's right. Let's go to the kitchen and see what all they have. Especially ask them what our options would be if we wanted to have a picnic."

Ron jumped up with a grin. "Good man! Let's go, go, go then."

Hermione laughed involuntarily, then laid aside her books with a sigh. "I suppose I'm not allowed to bring reading material on this expedition?"

Harry grinned as he linked his arms with her on one side and Ron on the other. "You assume correctly my dear."

Draco didn't move from where he was lying on his bed, staring at his canopy when the door banged open. Pansy was the only one who couldn't seem to grasp that if she shoved too hard the door was liable to bang against the wall behind it. Either that or she just liked making an entrance.

"Draco! Where the fuck have you been? You weren't at lunch – again!"

Draco grunted as he was unceremoniously shoved aside and Pansy flopped down, copying his position. "Well? The fuck's so interesting about the curtains?"

"Potter kissed me."

"WHAT?" Pansy shot straight up in bed, her voice in the range for a strangling squirrel. Then she whipped around and glared at Draco. "TELL ME everything!"

"Well. I kind-of, sort-of... kissed him. Then I ran away."

"Draco! Why would you run away? I thought you said he kissed you?"

"He did. That was after."

He got thumped on the chest for his trouble. "Draco! Do not make me drag the details out of you or so help me..."

Draco huffed. "It was a mistake, okay!"

Pansy bit her lip, looking a little worried now. "Dray..." Then she sighed. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"He was going to fall, so I caught him." Pansy's eyes narrowed a little, but she didn't interrupt. "And then it just kind of happened. I mean, I didn't mean to kiss him, I just ... he was there and I... Well, never mind. So, when my brain caught up with me, I tried running away... but this is Potter we're talking about. He can never let things go. So he came after me. And then he kissed me."

There was silence for a bit after this rather rambling account. Draco snuck a glance at Pansy. She was back to biting her lip, her brows furrowed.

"What?"

Pansy just looked at him, not saying anything. Draco knew what that meant: He wasn't going to like what she had to say.

He sighed. "Pans. Just say whatever you're thinking. You always do so I'll get to hear it sooner or later..."

Pansy thumped him in the chest again, but it wasn't as hard as it could have been.

"Well, okay, he kissed you. So that's good, right?"

"It is not! It's unnatural is what it is!"

"Draco, honestly. We've been over this. Would it be so bad?"

"Pans. What in hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just think about it. And let's be specific. We'll make a list."

Draco sighed and tried to derail this train of thought. "Pans..."

"Shush! You are going to listen to me, Draco Malfoy, so help me...!"

"Fine, fine. Just get the fuck on with it."

He wondered when his life would have fewer moments where he was resigned to the inevitable. Then he snorted mentally as Pansy settled and started counting off her fingers. Probably when he changed the people who he hung out with: most of the company he kept currently was strong-willed and stubborn, and now more than ever, not afraid to exercise the freedom to air their opinions unreservedly. He supposed he had a problem on his hands then, because he thought he would honestly not be able to offer anything but scorn to someone who wasn't as strong-willed and unbridled as the people he called his friends at the moment. Would put a bit of a damper on the friendship and companionship front.

"Draco! Pay attention!"

Draco sighed and grinned a little. Right. Time to meet some more of the inevitable. "Course, Pans."

"Right. One. Power. Potter has plenty of that. There isn't anyone else in the world right now whose say-so holds more weight than Potter just right at this moment. I mean, sure he's completely idiotic about not using the power he has, but should he choose to yield that power, he would be a very good person to have in your corner. And then there's magical power. He has to have that. He defeated the Dark Lord, for fuck's sake!"

Draco snorted. "Also something he has no idea how to yield properly."

Pansy hummed a little. "I'm not so sure about that. I just think he doesn't like attention so he holds his cards close to his chest."

Draco gave her a skeptical look.

"Come on, Dray, you can't still think that boy likes attention. Considering the way most of the public salivates over anything Potter, he could have been milking this for all he's worth. He could have made a fortune from the copyrights alone. Instead he chose to hide here at Hogwarts until 'things settle down'." She scoffed at McGonagall's words from the Welcome Feast. "As if they ever would when you're the Vanquisher."

Draco grinned. No one could sneer as well as Pansy when she made an effort.

"That's another thing. Potter's loaded. He could have made a fortune, but he doesn't need it cause he already has a fortune. At least you'll know he's not after you for your money."

Draco suppressed a groan. "Damn it, Pans-"

"Let me finish! I saved the best for last." She paused dramatically and waited for Draco to wave her on. "Four! He's one of the fittest lads here."

"Are you serious, Pans?"

"Yes! Have you seen that boy lately? He's Quidditch fit with all that golden skin... makes you want to eat him alive!"

Draco squirmed a little, considering how close his own thoughts had been to what was giving Pansy that dreamy look at the moment.

"Honestly, Dray, you know I'm no fan of the sport, but some days I want to build a shrine to the person who invented Quidditch for what it does to the bodies of fit lads."

He sighed. If he let Pansy get started on all that was fit about Quidditch lads, they would be here for a while. "It's all moot, Pans. Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What's that?"

"Potter has to like me back for any of your nutso fantasies to come true."

"Pish! It's you. Of course he's going to love you!"

Draco gave her a shove, his cheeks warm.

"Draco. Come on. You're allowed to have good things happen to you! And you said he kissed you, didn't he? Didn't he?"

"Yes," Draco mumbled.

"Well, there you go. He likes you." Draco didn't say anything and Pansy sighed in exasperation. "Okay, answer me this: what did he do after?"

"What?"

"He chased after you. He kissed you. Then what? He laughed and ran away? Danced a jig? Blamed you for everything and said he never wanted to see you ever again?"

Some days Draco really despised the fact that Pansy knew him and, by extension, his thoughts so well. "No," he mumbled this time.

"Well? What did he do?"

Draco sighed. "He asked me to hang out. And then he remembered that he had a date with Granger and the Weasel, so he asked if I wanted to have a picnic lunch with him tomorrow." His cheeks were red by the time he finished. He wondered at the silence following that statement – Pansy was rarely caught without a firm opinion on something. He cleared his throat uncomfortably when he saw her wide eyes. "What?"

"Draco, the boy sounds smitten. Clearly I was right all along and he had a crush on you and he finally found a chance to do something about it. You should have listened to me."

"Panssss," Draco whined.

She swatted his arm. "What? What is so terrible about this scenario? Potter actually chased after you. He didn't make fun of you. He didn't mock. He actually stuck around and asked you on a date. How is any of that a bad thing?"

"It's not a date!"

Pansy just scowled and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Fine. So maybe it's a date." He was back to mumbling.

"Dray. You know me. I'm not a fan of Potter."

Draco snorted but didn't say anything.

"But just this once, I think you should give him a chance."

"Pans. What if it's all just a joke?"

Pansy sighed, then lay down next to him again, tucking her head into his shoulder and hugging him around the waist. "Dray, honestly I don't think it is. It's Potter, Golden Boy. He's into public declarations of love and peace to all." Her voice dripped sarcasm. "I think this'd be a bit cruel for him if it is a joke."

Draco hugged her back while they thought about that for a minute.

"Besides, if I thought he was setting you up for something like this, I'd be out there ripping off his balls and feeding them to him, one gonad at a time, rather than sitting her with you."

Draco shuddered. The terrific yet terrifying part of that declaration was that he knew she meant every word.

The door opened, then slammed shut as Blaise kicked it behind him, shedding book bag, robes, shoes, tie, and random bits of parchment on the way to his bed. He stopped abruptly when he saw Draco and Pansy snuggled together, watching his entrance. His face carefully blank, he raised one eyebrow. "Am I interrupting something?"

Draco snorted. "Yes."

Pansy rolled her eyes at him then beamed at Blaise. "Draco has a date! Guess with who!"

For some reason, Blaise's shoulders tensed up some more as he eyed the way Draco and Pansy were wrapped around each other. Draco's brows rose at this reaction, then his grin turned wicked as he pulled Pansy closer and hugged her tighter while studying Blaise more closely.

"Well?" Pansy's voice was taking on an impatient whine. "Guess!"

Blaise finally unfroze and turned his back on them, fussing with something on his bed. "I give up, Pans."

Pansy scowled and sat up. "You're no fun, Blaise! Come on, guess! I'll even give you a hint: I was right all along!"

Draco shook his head as he heard her voice turn gleefully smug at the end there. She was going to be insufferable, he just knew it.

Blaise finally turned back around with a frown on his face. "Right about what?"

"About who has a crush on Draco!"

"Pans! We don't know that!"

"He asked you out on a date after snogging the living daylights out of you! How much more proof do you want?"

"It's not a date!"

Before Pansy could get out the no doubt scathing retort on the tip of her tongue, Blaise collected his jaw from the floor and decided to wade in. "No way. No fucking way are the two of you talking about what I think you're talking about."

Pansy turned back to him gleefully, rubbing her hands together. "Oh, yes, we are. I was right!"

Blaise abruptly sat down on his bed. "Well fuck me six ways to Sunday. Was not expecting that."

Pansy scoffed at this. "Please. This is Potter of the Dinner Time Declarations. Why weren't you expecting something like this? Especially after I pointed it out for all you sludgy ones."

Blaise shook his head again then grinned at Pansy. "Well, you did tell us." Then he glanced at Draco. "What's the rest of the Golden Trio think of all this, then? What's Goyle think for that matter?"

Draco groaned. "No idea. On both counts. I haven't spoken to Goyle yet and I have no idea if Potter's planning on telling the Terrible Two. I sure as fuck am not going to."

"Wait. He snogged you? And he still has all of his teeth?"

"What? He took me by surprise."

Pansy snorted, but didn't say anything.

Blaise's smile turned wicked. "So is he any good?"

Draco groaned. "I am not talking about this anymore."

Pansy shoved his shoulder. "Oh come on, Dray. That's a valid question. Besides, I've always wondered."

"You have?" Blaise was no longer smiling.

"Duh. He's Potter and therefore automatically an idiot. Doesn't mean he's not drool-on-yourself, wet-your-panties hot. Especially when he comes out fresh from after practice showers, all dripping and golden."

Draco swallowed around a suddenly dry throat and Blaise looked like he'd bitten into a lemon. He debated between mentioning his own earlier conversation with Potter against giving Pansy more reasons to drool over Potter. He didn't really completely understand his need to not have Pansy eyeing Potter like he was eye-candy so the need to torment Blaise won out.

"Actually, Potter thinks you're hot."

"What?" Draco swallowed a laugh at the pinched look on Blaise's face.

Pansy was blinking at him. "He does?"

"His exact words were 'that girl can sizzle when she makes an effort'." It cost Draco something to get the words out but it was worth it to see the look on Blaise's face. Maybe even for the one on Pansy's face. She was wearing a soft smile, a genuine one, and there was just the slightest hint of wonder to it. Draco could relate. It was similar to what had been making his head spin when Potter had first kissed him. And then continued to do so, without hesitation, for a good long while after that.

Pans blinked and snapped out of it, though the smile didn't leave her face. "Well. Just goes to show, all evidence to the contrary, he's got some taste."

Blaise was staring at the smile too, then his eyes narrowed as he caught the half-smirk on Draco's face. "How were you even talking about this?"

Draco coughed. He really didn't want to get into the contents of that conversation. Pansy might not be as appreciative. Before he could come up with a good deflection, she suddenly bounced off the bed and headed towards his armoire. "Never mind all that. We have to figure out what you're going to wear for your date!"

"Pans, it a bloody lunch in the middle of the day, right after class. I am not getting fucking dressed up for it! Especially when it's not even a date!"

As Pansy ignored him and held up different choices of shirts for Blaise to give an opinion on, Draco flopped back on to his bed and gave up. There was no stopping Pansy now that she'd started. But as he watched the chaos starting to erupt around him, he found it strangely comforting. In a way Pansy was right. If she had even the littlest suspicion that Potter was playing a prank or setting him up for humiliation, there would have been a very different kind of crazy whirling around his room at the moment. So, if Potter wasn't planning on making fun of him, what was he planning on doing?

"Harry, for God's sake. Why are you dragging us all over the Hogwarts grounds? The spot by the lake was just fine. We could have eaten there."

"Yeah, mate. I'm kinda hungry. When you said we could get a picnic from the house elves I thought maybe we'd get to eat it as well. Not just haul it all over the place."

"Oh shush, Ron. You're always hungry. And we can't eat until we find the perfect spot."

Hermione sighed irritably. "Harry, would you please just tell us what this is all about?"

Harry stopped climbing the hill he had been meandering on, trying to decide which side had the best light and turned to face his friends. Ron immediately put down the picnic basket the house elves had packed for them and Hermione had her I'm-done-humoring-you look on. Harry grinned sheepishly. If he didn't spill the beans now Hermione would honestly get irritated and he'd wanted to keep them in suspense, not piss them off. "I have a picnic date for tomorrow and I thought we could find the perfect spot for it."

Hermione's jaw dropped a little and Ron groaned aloud. "All this for a girl?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she took a good look at Harry's face. "Not a girl."

Harry grinned and nodded.

Hermione squeezed his arm. "Oh Harry, how did this happen?" Then she glanced at Ron's crestfallen face that they would be postponing eating even more and sighed. "Why don't we have the picnic right here? We can help you look for the perfect spot later."

Draco squirmed as he watched Potter rummage through the basket of goods he'd been lugging with him when he met him in the Entrance Hall. In defiance of Pansy's orders he'd made an effort to not dress or look different than he did any other day. Now looking at Potter's freshly showered hair he wondered if maybe he should have at least changed out of the uniform he'd been sweating in all day thinking about this... encounter. Not that he would admit to anything as undignified as sweating over something as insignificant as a... an encounter.

Potter stumbled, clearly not watching where he was going. Draco caught his upper arm to help him regain his feet and sighed. "Seriously, Potter. Walking in a straight without landing on your ass shouldn't be such a chore."

Potter finally looked up from his clearly useless hunt, smiled and stuck out his tongue. Draco squirmed. He still wasn't used to that soft-eyed smile being direct at him. It made his guts squiggle in weird ways and he wasn't completely convinced he liked it yet. He rolled his eyes, half at himself and half at Potter's antics. "Where're we going anyway?"

Potter shrugged his shoulders trying to resettle his robes where they were slipping off one shoulder and hoisted the hamper higher in his two-handed grip. "The Quidditch pitch, actually."

"The Quidditch pitch? For a picnic?"

Potter flashed him that smile again. "You'll see."

Draco sighed again and decided to leave off, at least for the moment. Clearly Potter wasn't in the mood to explain. Instead, he nudged him in the side with his hamper as they walked. "Quit your wheezing will you? It'll be good!"

"Whatever, Potter. Considering the pace at which you're moving I'll probably end up giving up part of my free period as well as my lunch break for this. Not all of us are here to have fun and blow off steam. Some of us need to work for our grades."

Potter stopped so abruptly Draco had gone a couple of paces before he realized he was walking by himself. Turning around, he caught the strangest expression on Potter's face. He couldn't immediately tell what it meant but it made his insides squiggle – definitely not in a good way though.

"You know, Malfoy, it occurs to me that I didn't actually ask if you wanted to come today. I may even have bullied you into it. I've been known to do that."

Draco didn't know how to respond to this declaration. Admitting Potter had bullied him into coming today implied a level of control over his actions that he wasn't comfortable with. On the other hand, he wasn't ready to admit that he was along on his own initiative either. Potter continued to stare at him as the silence stretched between them, then nodded to himself like he'd just worked something out.

"Right. Well, that settles that. Malfoy, you should know this. I'll beat you bloody any given day of the week you're willing to get in a good fight, but I will never force you to do something you don't completely agree with or haven't decided for yourself. So I'm going to the Quidditch pitch to have a picnic lunch. You're welcome to join me if you want, clearly there's enough food for two. But if you don't," Potter shrugged. "That's fine too. Just remember that it has to be your choice."

Then Potter marched past him, leaving Draco feeling slightly dazed, the squiggling in his gut approaching something painful. He blinked a couple of times and when he looked again he saw Potter had covered a lot of distance for someone who was usually coordination challenged when travelling on flat ground. Now what?

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Draco blinked at the shriek and focused on the person standing over him. Pansy, hands on her hips, a rather ugly scowl on her face. Then she hissed and hauled him towards the dorm stairs with a painful grip on his elbow, away from the curious eyes of the students just returning from lunch. Blaise and Goyle hesitated, then decided to stay where they were rather than follow. Draco glanced at them over his shoulder and mouthed 'traitors' before he was whipped out of sight around the curve in the stairwell.

Once in his room, he was unceremoniously unhanded and faced with a livid Pansy. "Well? What did he do?"

Draco hesitated, not sure how to phrase what had actually happened.

Pansy gasped. "He didn't show? That bastard! That complete and utter scum on a manticore's tit! He's going to wish he-"

"No, Pans. He came. Brought a hamper bigger than him too."

Pansy's eyes narrowed. "Then what? There is no way you finished up eating this early and managed to get back before lunch period is even over. At the rate you eat we would have been in the Great Hall for another twenty minutes at least!"

Draco grimaced a little. This was a familiar complaint of Pansy's – that Draco liked to take his time eating and always seemed to be the last one to clear his plate. Then he sighed. Confession time, and he wasn't sure he was really in the mood for some of Pansy's scolding.

"He gave me a choice."

Pansy's frowned harder. "What, like an ultimatum?"

"No. More..." Draco coughed, then decided the hell with it. "I may or may not have complained about having to give up my free period and lunch hour, so Potter said that I should only come for lunch if I really wanted to."

"That sounds dangerously close to an ultimatum."

Draco shook his head. "He wasn't mad. More... I don't know. I couldn't read his face. But he was more worried that he might have bullied me into agreeing to come than asking. As if he could! But apparently giving me the choice about coming to lunch made him feel better about not making me do something I hadn't decided on for myself."

When he glanced back at Pansy she was staring at him with an expression rather close to the one that had been on Potter's face not forty odd minutes before. He didn't know what it meant when she was wearing it either, but her voice was softer than he'd heard since they'd come back to Hogwarts when she spoke next. "Draco, what're you doing here?"

"I didn't know if I wanted to go after that, did I? If I went Potter would only think he'd bullied me into it or something. I am not letting him have that kind of power over me!"

Pansy opened her mouth to speak, then shook her head and gave him a sudden, fierce hug, holding on until Draco got over his surprise and hugged her back. He'd been expecting scoldings and admonishments to stop being moronic and go after Potter. Not this soft, serious Pansy that lived behind the mask of the brash, iron-willed ball-buster and made it completely worth putting up with her craziness on the rare occasion that they got to see her.

She gave his shoulders a final squeeze, then moved back and towards the dorm door.

"What, you're not going to tell me to go after him? No opinion at all?"

She paused halfway out the door and looked him in the eye. "Draco, what do you think it means to have a choice?"

Then she left, closing the door behind her. Draco stared at the space where she'd been standing then shook his head in frustration. He'd half been counting on Pansy yelling and making him go for his own good when she found him in the common room after he'd come back. It was half why he'd been lounging around downstairs rather than brooding in his room. Then Draco paused, Pansy's parting shot echoing in his head. What did it mean to have a choice? Potter had been emphatic about not making him do anything he hadn't decided, and apparently, bizarrely, Pansy had decided to honor the choice that Potter had offered him. She normally had no compunctions about ordering people about but in this instance she wasn't going to make him do anything. If he went to this lunch it would be because he wanted to and not because someone had pressured him into it.

As Draco sat on his bed his gaze fell on his broomstick leaning against one corner of the room. It really was good weather for Quidditch and the Quidditch Pitch should be lit up by the perfect blend of light and shade as clouds raced across the sun.

Pansy's voice echoed in his head. You're allowed to have good things happen to you.

His heart pounding much harder than just having decided to go to a picnic should have warranted, Draco also decided against traipsing all the way down the stairs to cross a no-doubt now full common room, and grabbed his broom. That was one advantage of not living in the dungeons that even he had to acknowledge – real, actual windows you could climb out of when you really felt like it.

Draco made another lap of the Quidditch pitch, feeling strangely hollow. Potter wasn't here. And honestly, what had he expected anyway? That he could show up an hour later and Potter would still be waiting for him?

He had just turned to go back to the castle, his appetite properly dead, when something small darted past his face, stopped when he did, then came back to hover in front of him.

It was a snitch made entirely of paper, but it didn't act like a real snitch, just hovering there as if waiting for him. When he reached out for it, it danced away, though it didn't go far. Draco followed, curious now. It hovered just within reach, but always danced away when he acted like he might reach for it – almost like it wanted him to follow. Draco paused as he contemplated the snitch waiting patiently for him. This would be an excellent ruse for someone who meant him harm, if they were trying to lure him away. Because honestly, who suspects origami?

On the other hand, he really wanted to know where it had come from and who had charmed it. Abruptly he decided he would follow the snitch but only as long as they remained safely within the wards of Hogwarts. Any risk beyond that would just be asking for trouble.

He followed the snitch across the Quidditch pitch, moving faster now that they weren't playing their keep away dance. It seemed to be headed towards the last turret of the castle that was closest to the Quidditch pitch. It was one of those almost abandoned parts of the castle that had presumably been used as classrooms or living quarters in a different time, but which were rarely visited now by anyone other than house elves. As they came closer, Draco scanned the surrounding area, looking for someone who might be controlling the snitch but everything appeared deserted.

There was a sharp whistle above him, and when he looked up he found Potter peering over the ledge of an overhang that connected turret to the castle. From here it looked like a thin walkway, probably built to stabilize the turret during high wind. Considering he couldn't see much of Potter other than his head, it would have to be much broader than first glance suggested.

Flying up, he saw Potter was sitting on a picnic blanket in a patch of sunlight, holding the paper snitch in one hand. He gestured with the other to where the hamper lay open next to him on the blanket.

"Help yourself, everything's still fresh."

Draco hesitated, dropped his broom and sat down on the blanket diagonally across from Potter.

Potter hadn't sounded hostile, but he wasn't looking at him either. And Draco had left him here for over an hour now without so much as a by your leave. Draco bit his lip then decided to worry about everything else later. If the hamper had been packed by the school house elves then the food was likely to be without fault, and he was suddenly hungry again.

Harry fiddled with the paper snitch he'd charmed earlier as Malfoy helped himself to sandwiches, salad, meat slices and chips. He wanted to give him a chance to eat properly before they started on conversation. He knew Malfoy had skipped breakfast and there was no need for him to go hungry just because there was no such thing as 'simple' conversation between them.

He was absurdly pleased that Malfoy had decided to come after all, and so found himself with an abundance of patience. It really was very nice up here when the wind was moderate and the sun was out. And as a bonus, they had a clear view of the entire Quidditch pitch laid out below them. He'd actually found the ledge when he had been flying concentric circles around the pitch and hadn't wanted to stop just because the strict edge of the pitch had come and gone a couple of circles earlier. From most angles, it honestly looked too thin to land on. Now it had become a place he came regularly to think.

Traipsing around for the perfect picnic spot yesterday, Ron had half jokingly suggested the Quidditch pitch because his mind had still been on the Ravenclaw tryouts, and Harry had realized that it might just actually be the perfect place. Once that was settled, he'd enjoyed what Hermione had dubbed their 'Nature Walk' around the castle grounds, just chatting and strolling and taking turns finding silly things for each other to do along the way. The expression on Hermione's face when he'd told her to roll in a pile of leaves had been priceless and still gave Ron giggles when they thought about it. That was the kind of light-hearted banter and bickering he'd been missing for a few weeks now as the term time exams approached and everyone's schedules intensified. It had been nice to be able to do that and get even Hermione to forget her books because there was dirt in her hair. Harry smiled to himself. Hermione rarely acted 'all girly' as Ron called it, but it was fun to see how far they could push her in that direction before she did.

"How did you get up here?"

Harry glanced at Malfoy and saw that he was about a quarter of the way through his first helping, but that should have taken the edge off his hunger so it was probably fine to talk. "I flew."

"I thought you weren't allowed." It wasn't really an actual question.

"Mine's not the only broom housed in the school you know, and those in possession of theirs would be grateful if the great Harry Potter borrowed it for a little while."

"Right. With all that so-called choice, you decided on a Cleansweep Five?"

"I decided to bestow the honor of allowing me their broom on the First Years flying lesson broom shed."

"Of course you did."

They fell silent as Malfoy ate some more, then put down his sandwich half way through a bite. "About earlier, I-"

Harry cut him off. "No worries. Choice, remember?" He waited until Malfoy nodded, then opened up a butterbeer and handed it to him. "So. Quidditch, the weather, art, music, poetry." Malfoy gave him a blank look. "Bad haircuts... I'm just wondering if you have any preferences about what you want to talk about first."

Malfoy's eyes lit up as he caught the reference. "Definitely bad haircuts. Let's start with yours. What is up with that mop anyway? In case someone hasn't told you yet, messy has been out of vogue for quite some time now."

Harry laughed and rubbed a hand through his hair. "It's just always been like this. And trust me, nearly everything anyone could think of has been tried to get it to sit neatly. My aunt shaved it all off once. It grew back over night. She was so mad, I'd never seen her that angry before."

"Mad? Frustrated, I could see. But why would she be angry? Accidental magic, it happens."

For half a minute, Harry could do nothing but stare at Malfoy. Then he huffed a laugh. "I keep forgetting that you don't actually know anything about me."

Malfoy frowned. "I know plenty."

"Just more this half of my life though. What you've seen at school, what the papers have made up. Somehow they never seem to get things completely right."

Harry and Malfoy stared at each other for a bit, then Harry sighed and nodded to himself. If he wanted this, whatever it was that was between them, to actually go somewhere, he figured he should probably let Malfoy in on a few key things that were the bedrock of his existence.

"The reason my aunt got mad was because she and my uncle and cousin hate magic. I wasn't even supposed to know it existed. I actually didn't know I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter. And that, Hagrid had to deliver personally because my uncle kept burning the ones that came with owls."

Malfoy's eyes had widened. "That's absurd! You were a hero in the Wizarding world, why wouldn't they tell you about it?"

Harry's lips quirked. "A hero? Really?"

Malfoy blushed a little but it didn't detract from his glare. "I meant for the rest of the idiots out there! Now answer the question."

"I personally think my aunt was jealous of my mum, and that just changed into hate. But for whatever reason they hate magic. Absolutely loath it. It's the reason I've been called freak most of my life." Harry snorted. "They didn't know the half of it of course, that I was going to end up a freak in the Wizarding world as well."

There was a twisted expression on Malfoy's face. Almost as if he wanted to reassure Harry that of course he wasn't a freak, but could also hear how the words would sound inside his head. Right. Time to change the subject to something much less depressing.

Potter stood up then and walked over to Draco, dropping down so he was perched in his lap without warning.

"Potter, wha-"

"I've been wanting to do this again since yesterday." With that, Draco found himself being kissed thoroughly.

Draco broke the kiss by leaning his neck backwards and keeping one hand on Potter's chest to stop him from following. "Distraction tactics much, Potter?"

Potter moved back a pace and smiled a little, settling his knees more comfortably. "Yes, but that doesn't mean it's a bad idea."

You're allowed to have good things have to you.

Draco didn't know if this was a good thing exactly, but it felt that way. And for now he was content to let it. He smirked, reached up to remove Potter's glasses and lay them to the side. He then yanked Potter forward with a hand in his hair. He wouldn't forget what Potter had told him and there would be time later to pry more details about Potter's childhood from him. For now, he gave himself up to the taste, the smell, the heat that was Potter.

Sliding lips and wrestling tongues and grasping hands, everything was much more delicious than he could have imagined it. There was a spark between them, Draco could feel it travelling over his skin and sinking into his chest to rest there as a ball of warmth that they added to and added to as both of them refused to give in first and come up for air. Draco was starting to feel a little lightheaded, and he had to wonder how much of that was from kissing and how much from the oxygen deprivation.

Finally both of them moved back at the same time, dragging air into their lungs. They panted for breath together, chests heaving, fingers still not having relinquished their hold, and then Potter leaned forward and pressed an open mouthed kiss to Draco's lips. He panted in another breath, then did it again. And again. And again. And Draco matched his rhythm. They kissed and kissed and kissed. Potter shifted forward and clutched Draco closer and tilted his head more to give himself better access to the lips that he was attempting to devour in soft, small nibbles.

Draco arched upwards into the touch, then gasped and pulled back when his erection brushed Potter's. "I-" The words wouldn't come as he tried to swallow against a suddenly dry throat.

Potter stared at him, breath heaving, lips raw and red and wet. Then he brought his hands up to cup Draco's face and leaned forward until they were staring at each other from inches away. Draco swallowed again as his breathing became irregular. It stopped altogether when Potter brushed against him again, deliberate and watching Draco's reaction all the time, his hands keeping Draco from looking away.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

Draco hesitated, then brought his hands up to rest on Potter's waist and closed the distance between them. Potter submitted immediately, opening his mouth and melting into the embrace, one arm going around his shoulders to press their chests together, the other hand slipping into Draco's hair, scraping his scalp with nails. Draco wrapped his own arms around Potter's waist and back, pulling him closer. They both gasped as they rubbed against each other, but this time didn't stop the lips moving, tongues licking, teeth nipping. Draco clutched Potter closer, rubbing himself against the heat of Potter's erection purposefully now that he had made the decision. There was so much heat, even through all the layers of clothing that separated them.

The angle was awkward with Potter straddling his lap and Draco wanted more. He thought about it for a second then tightened his hold on Potter and tipped them both sideways, rolling so that he had Potter flat on his back and could more easily add to the delicious friction between their legs. Potter grunted when they hit the ground – those damn ribs – but didn't break the kiss.

Some part of Draco's mind was still observing in a detached voice that clearly this couldn't be happening. It was another one of Draco's half waking dreams, and any moment now he would be waking up to sticky sheets and a snickering Blaise. But if this was a dream, it was more vivid than any he'd conjured before it. His dreams had never before made him feel this buzzed, his fingers tingling, the skin on his back where Potter's hands rested, and clutched, and petted, and kneaded, feeling tight and stretched.

Potter broke the heated kiss with a gasp, reaching up with strong, sure fingers to clutch at his shoulders, then reached further to wrap one arm around his neck, burying his face in the side of Draco's neck. His hot breath puffed against Draco's neck with each pant, his lips brushing, lingering.

There was a familiar heat gathering in his gut as he worked towards it in earnest, Potter helping him, pushing back, lifting his legs and wrapping them partially around Draco's, giving him better access, the rasp and slide of the cloth separating them making the heat pool faster.

A brush against his ear where Potter had buried his face. "Fuck. Almost there."

A flicker of white-hot pleasure in his gut, wrapping around his spine. Another. And another. Coming faster now, and closer together. Feeding an inferno that Draco could feel gathering heat and force. Almost. There.

Draco wriggled as he slid and Potter gasped and stiffened, his fingers clutching, body arching, a sputtering wetness spreading across the front of his trousers, seeping into Draco's.

Draco felt the shuddering body in his arms, the warm moisture seeping through his trousers to meet his throbbing erection, and the inferno ignited, spreading outwards until every part of him shuddered and shook. His hips kept moving until the shift and rasp of cloth hurt his sensitive prick, then he collapsed forward, burying his own face in the crook of Potter's neck as he got his breath back and the spots swimming in front of his eyes cleared. He wasn't sure when he'd clenched them shut.

Draco blinked his eyes open finally and rolled sideways to get off Potter. The hands that had been drawing random patterns on his back as they both caught their breaths only let him get so far before they clamped down and he found himself lying on his side, face to face with Potter.

He took a moment to study the face staring back at him. Again, he was struck by the thought that if it hadn't belonged to Potter, he might have had the urge to admire its symmetry much earlier. Wisps of hair played in the wind as it dried the sweat on Potter's brow, the sun glinting against long eye lashes shading clear green, green eyes staring back at him, the light in them more than mere sunlight. The sides of the eyes crinkled and the lips curved upwards softly as a slow smile emerged.

"Hi."

Draco snorted and wondered if this was going to be a standard greeting after every heavy snogging session. Although he had to admit, this time they'd gone just a tad bit beyond snogging. The thought occurred to him that maybe he should worry at the speed with which things were moving. Then he mentally shrugged that thought away. He'd kind-of, sort-of been here already, given the state of his sheets nearly every morning, even if he wasn't willing to acknowledge it out loud, and Potter was an all or nothing kinda guy, he just didn't know any other way to be. Other thoughts about what it meant that Potter was an all or nothing kinda guy tried to intrude but Draco strangled them to silence and buried them deep in his mind where he wouldn't have to look at them too closely. If he did, he knew he was liable to panic and at the very least, Potter wouldn't react well.

"Hello to you too, Potter."

There was a smirk on his face but an answering smile in his eyes when Potter's grin got wider. He shifted to rest his forehead against Draco's, and Draco grimaced when the cooling mess in their pants pulled at him. "Where's a wand when you need one?" He muttered.

Potter laughed and whipped his out before Draco could reach for his own. A couple of cleaning charms later, he put away the wand and shifted even closer, lifting one leg to drape it over Draco.

Draco made a face. "Please tell me you are not a cuddler, Potter." He shuddered. "That is not happening."

Potter laughed, shifted forward, and wrapped himself around Draco as much as he could in what was unmistakably a hug. "Ew. Potter! Get off!"

Draco shrugged his shoulders and wriggled to get free. He could have solved the problem with one good shove, but the way his arms were pinned, the only place he could have applied any useful leverage was Potter's ribs. As much as he wanted out, he wasn't willing to hurt the berk. Yet. Any more of this cuddling business and he reserved the right to change his mind.

"I'm serious, Potter. Don't make me hurt you! Off! Get off!"

Potter huffed another laugh as he unwrapped himself from around Draco. "I thought we just did!"

Harry laughed again when Malfoy groaned and shook his head as he sat up. There was a tingling feeling in his chest that was making him want to dance and prance and laugh uncontrollable, and it effervesced some more as he gazed at the slightly blurry picture Malfoy made sitting on the picnic blanket. He wasn't smiling, not exactly, but there was a softness in his eyes that he would have hated to know was there, and his face looked relaxed and at peace like it hadn't since the beginning of the year. His fingers twitched as he watched the wind play with strands of Malfoy's hair, adding to the disarray Harry had left it in from clutching it and running his fingers through it. He wanted to do that now, stroke and pet until its customary order returned, but he didn't think Malfoy was ready for that just yet.

"Here. Your glasses."

The world came back into focus enough for him to be able to see the nervous twitches he'd missed earlier. Time to dial the intensity down a little.

"Finish your lunch. I got brownies for desert."

Malfoy blinked at him. "You did?"

"Em-hmm. Double fudge, chocolate chip brownies. And I'm planning on eating them in the common room tonight after curfew."

Malfoy abruptly laughed out loud, then picked up his plate to resume eating. "Oh you are cruel, Potter. Pansy's going to kill me if she finds out I told you."

"Hmmm… You want some as an emergency supply? You know, just in case she's had a bad day and things get out of hand?"

"Emergency supply? How many brownies did you get?"

"Please. I'm friends with Ron, who should be a rolling ball of a human being with the way he eats and by some miracle of nature, isn't. I got enough."

Malfoy huffed another laugh as he continued to eat in the small, precise bites Harry was used to seeing at the dinner table. He tilted his face to the sun, then flopped backwards. "I miss Quidditch. This weather is perfect for Quidditch. The Cleansweep's not much but maybe I can get in a few laps after lunch."

"You will not."

Harry's brows rose to his hairline as he squinted at Malfoy. "Excuse you?"

"I'm serious, Potter. Getting up here probably took two minutes and minimal maneuvering. That's one thing. But going for laps – and I've seen what you mean by laps – when your ribs are still fucked up is asking for trouble."

"Come on, Malfoy. I'll probably only be a few minutes... It can't be that bad."

"Oh yes, it can be that bad. I've seen what happens to you when you fly. You won't want to come down after only a few minutes."

Harry decided to ignore that and went back to staring into the sun with his eyes closed.

"I'm serious, Potter."

"You're starting to repeat yourself, Malfoy."

There was a soft snarl behind him that made him peek at Malfoy's face. "Right, that's it. This is me giving you a choice, and I'll make it real easy for you. You stay off that broom or I go and tell Madam Pomfrey that you left the Hospital Wing under false pretenses and that she really should keep you there a couple more days because you clearly can't be trusted."

Harry gasped and sat up. "Malfoy! That's cruel and unusual punishment, even for you!"

Malfoy crossed his arms. "Yeah, well, that's the only kind that seems to have any effect on you."

Harry's insides writhed as those words struck home in a way that Malfoy probably hadn't meant them to. In fact his entire demeanor suggested this was just another one of those barbs they traded habitually, and there was no special significance attached to what should have been a throw away comment.

Freak, echoed inside his head, along with a litany of other things he had been told were being done for his own good and because nothing else had managed to cure the freakishness in him. How he was especially freaky and so the punishment must fit the crime and be as unusual. Other children weren't freaks and so they didn't have to be shut in cupboards.

Harry shook his head as he realized Malfoy was staring at him. Probably wondering where his head had wandered off to. It was just, for some reason he kept wandering back to the Dursleys today. Maybe it was because he kept those thoughts carefully guarded, and they'd chosen to come out today. Avoid any thought long enough and eventually it would spring out and surprise you when you least expected – he should know, he had plenty of things he kept suppressed. It was the only thing that helped him not turn into a hermit and just disappear inside his own head.

Or maybe it was because he had tried to show Malfoy something of himself today, and for him, really the Dursleys were the beginning of that story. Sure, his parents may have come chronologically first, but in the story that made him the person he was today, the Dursleys came first. And from that his parents' sacrifice rescued him like an answer to ten years worth of prayers and wishing in the dark with all his might, eyes closed and fists clenched.

Harry gave his head a hard shake; there he went disappearing inside his head again. Very soon, he wouldn't be fit company for anyone.

Draco's scowl slipped as he watched Potter disappear and suddenly found himself alone in his argument about flying. Potter may have been physically present, but his mind was clearly on something else. Something not entirely pleasant from the looks of it. Draco watched the shadows gathering and pooling in Potter's eyes with a frown. He wasn't sure he entirely liked it.

He had always known that Potter carried around his own demons. No one who did not would have been able to recognize Draco's as well as Potter had. But he'd never been confronted by the evidence of them as clearly as he was at the moment. He watched Potter stare off into the distance, and he watched the look in his eyes. That haunted, almost cringing look in the eyes. Like he wanted to shy away from something but knew it was futile. It was making him feel like he'd swallowed glass precisely because he'd seen that look before, by those who were in pain. And somehow the idea of Potter in that kind of pain made his stomach cramp.

He would have said the movement was involuntary, except something fundamental in him wanted to stop the pain, to bring Potter back. He reached out one hand and gripped Potter's shoulder, hard, until he looked back at him and his eyes cleared a little.

"Potter. You're here. Remember?"

The shadows swirled, then receded just a little, their sharpness softening. Potter put his hand over Draco's, then tilted his head to the side to rest his cheek against it, just for a second. "I know." He murmured. "I'm here. You're here."

Draco wanted to ask what he could do, how he could help. But he didn't know what those words would sound like when they came from him; he'd never thought he'd be offering them to Potter. As it turned out, he didn't need to. In the same eerie way Potter could sometimes guess at his thoughts – and he knew Potter was no master Legilimens – he understood what Draco wanted to offer.

He scooted over until he was sitting resting against the wall of the castle where it met the walkway, then patted the seat beside him. Draco felt wary now that he was here in this moment – helping – but he went.

Potter arranged himself so that his entire side was pressed into Draco where they sat next to each other, but he stared out at the sky.

"Stay. Eat. I just need some time until this passes." Potter's lips quirked into a strange small smile. "Course you should go when you need to. Wouldn't hold you back like that."

Draco nodded and that seemed to satisfy Potter. He hesitated, then decided to do as he'd been told. He'd wanted to offer... something. But until he knew more, this was all he could offer. So he would shut up and sit there for now, and who knew, maybe this actually was helping Potter in some undefined way. Things never were what they seemed with him.

In the end, Draco got to finish his lunch. He got to taste the brownies, which were excellent, so he made sure to put some aside for Pansy. He got to sit in silence for some time, his only company the warmth leaning against his side and his own thoughts. He got to watch the sun put on a spectacular show as it set. And he got to ensure the Cleansweep was put away without any late night flights taking place.

But he didn't leave until Potter finally sighed, leaned harder against him for one heartbeat, two heartbeat, three, and then moved away. Draco was quietly glad for the silence of the halls during dinner time as they made their way back to the common room together.

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