A/N: Right. It's been a bit since the last update, but I wanted to get this bit right. It's a transition of sorts, mostly to show that time passes for our favorite duo, but also to give them a chance to explore what they started together.

Predictably, for the next few days Malfoy avoided Harry like the plague. It was just as hard to locate him as when Harry had been looking for him to pick a fight. But that was alright. If nothing else, his Draco Hunting had taught him patience.

Harry chuckled darkly under his breath at the idea of 'Draco Hunting', and then shuddered at the idea that Dudley may have ever contemplated what he was thinking about doing to Malfoy once he caught him.

There. Finally. Malfoy moving around by himself instead of with a troupe of others surrounding him. Harry grinned as he folded up the Marauder's map and headed out of the dorms.

The kiss was bruising and hard when it came, punishing in its ferocity. Lips moving against each other, tongue sweeping through Draco's mouth as he gasped. Potter lapped at him, stroking again and again, exploring all of his mouth, licking the back of his teeth, battling with his tongue.

Bruising fingers were gripping his hips hard, holding him in place against the wall as Potter plundered his mouth. Draco groaned and squirmed, trying to shift to get more friction against the aching hard on he was suddenly sporting. The fingers dug in painfully, holding him in place as Potter forced his mouth open further. And then that fiery heat was traveling along his jaw, as Potter nipped and placed openmouthed kisses all along his jaw line and down his neck. Suddenly, Potter bit down, hard, on the junction where his neck met his shoulder. Draco half groaned, half moaned. As painful as it was, the sensations coursing through him as Potter sucked and licked and soothed the abused skin were doing strange things to him. His knees shaky, all he wanted to do then was sink to the floor and just submit. The only thing that was holding him up was the firm grip of fingers at his hips.

The hot mouth sucked and licked some more, then traveled back up his neck, nipped at his ear lobe, then back across his jaw to bite at his bottom lip. Potter surged forward then, plastering his body against the entire front of Draco's, from shoulders all the way to the knees, a delicious heat sinking into him everywhere they touched. Draco groaned at the increased friction and clutched at Potter's elbows. The tongue swiped across his lips one last time and then stopped as Potter moved his head back a little, keeping his body in place, holding still.

Both of them panted, trying to catch their breath before Draco slowly opened his eyes to see green ones watching him intently. He didn't even remember when his eyes had fallen shut.

"Tell me you want this."

Draco swallowed. "Fuck, Potter."

Potter leaned more of his weight against him and placed an almost chaste kiss on his lips as he stared at him from inches away. "Tell." Kiss. "Me." Kiss. "You." Kiss. "Want." Kiss. "This." Kiss.

Draco keened in response to the teasing. He'd be embarrassed about it later. Right now he couldn't think straight.

"I-" His voice broke and he cleared his throat. "I want this."

There was the briefest flash of a grin and then those lips were back. Potter flexed his fingers then moved his hands back around to Draco's arse and kneaded. Draco's legs threatened to give out again. In response, Potter took a firm grip and hoisted him upwards, Draco's legs wrapping around him eagerly. Draco moved his hands up Potter's biceps and wrapped them around his neck, one hand clutching and bunching his t-shirt at his shoulder and the other buried in soft, messy hair.

Draco keened again, trying to push closer as Potter ground into him, creating friction, their cocks generating heat as they rubbed together.

"Potter!" Draco gasped as they surfaced for air. In response, Potter buried his face in Draco's neck, his hot breath huffing against Draco's sensitive skin with every panted breath, steadied him against the wall, and started rutting in earnest.

Draco's grip on Potter tightened as heat started pooling in his gut. "I'm close," he panted.

In response Potter started moving faster, generating even more friction. Draco's legs convulsively tensed and loosened as he matched his rhythm as best he could, pushing against the wall for leverage. Right now, in this moment, with electricity running through his veins and pooling in his gut, he couldn't figure out why he'd been avoiding Potter. Then as Potter lipped at his neck almost tenderly, with lights exploding behind his eyelids, thought scattered and he stopped wondering even that.

Potter nudged him with his shoulder as he settled in the seat next to Draco. Draco hummed and continued taking notes. Potter nudged him again.

"What?" He kept his voice low, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone else in the class, though in all likelihood they were all sleeping anyway. Granger, the Ravenclaws and a chosen few Slytherins were the only ones who ever took notes in Binns' classes.

Potter nudged his shoulder again, making him smudge his words. He sighed and looked at him, only to find Potter grinning like an idiot. "What, Potter?"

"I missed you."

Draco's cheeks grew warm and he ducked his head. "Potter, you're a sap and an idiot."

"What? I'm serious. Transfiguration was boring without you. I missed you."

"So my only use would have been to whet your academic interest?"

Draco jumped when a hand squeezed his knee under the desk, then he glared at Potter. "Potter!" His voice was a hiss. "What do you think you're doing?"

He squeezed harder when Draco tried to wriggle free.

"Just showing you that academic interest isn't your only use." The grin on Potter's face was positively sinful and he looked like he was undressing Draco with his eyes.

Draco's cheeks warmed again and he elbowed Potter in the side. Hard.

"Stop it."

"Easy. Watch those ribs!"

Draco shot him a sharp glance to make sure he hadn't actually hurt his ribs, then rolled his eyes at the exaggerated way Potter was rubbing his flank. Drama.

"Potter, just go to sleep already. That's all you're good for in this class."

Potter huffed a laugh under his breath, then nudged Draco's shoulder again, though gentler this time. When Draco shot him a look, he just smiled, folded his arms on his desk, put his head down and closed his eyes. He peeked through one eye, saw Draco staring, grinned and then settled down for a nap.

Draco shook his head and went back to his note taking, but there was a fizzle tickling his ribs and warming his chest. 'I missed you.' The thought made his lips curl in an involuntary smile. He hesitated, then softly bumped Potter's shoulder with his, not looking away from his notes.

Potter smiled, but didn't open his eyes.

Pansy abandoned her book bag and squeezed into the space between Draco and Blaise. "Well?"

Draco and Blaise exchanged a look, shuffling their texts and scrolls to make room for her. "Well what?"

"Is he any good?"

Draco's brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of this non sequitur but the sudden laughter in Blaise's eyes alerted him that he might want to whip out his poker face right about now. "No idea what you're talking about, Pans."

"Oh come on, Draco! It's time to spill the beans! Hmmm... Points, points... I mean looks, okay. I say eight on a normal day. Nine on a dishy day. Maybe nine and a half when he's got all that delicious freshly showered bit going on. Honestly, if someone would only enlighten that boy to the wonders of fitted clothing he'd be a distraction just walking down the hall. Blaise, points on looks?"

Draco swallowed past a dry throat and quickly looked around to see who might be in the vicinity in the relatively full common room. This was not a conversation he wanted overheard – it would honestly be more trouble than it was worth. But trying to get Pansy to hush would probably cause a bigger – more vocal – scene than the off chance that someone was sitting close enough to overhear.

"You're asking a straight man to rate another guy on the looks scale, Pans?"

"Oh hush, you. Gay, straight, whatever. You've got eyes. Now use 'em and pick a number."

Draco knew it probably wouldn't do any good, but... "Pans, seriously. Do we really need to have this conversation?"

Pansy snorted and dug her elbow into his side gently. "Course we do, Draco. If we can do the points bit for passing-fancy floozy types for the rest of us then Potter certain merits a score card. Now come on, seriously. Looks. Pick a number."

Draco grimaced. He really didn't want to get into this discussion. Somehow it would be like admitting more than he was comfortable with. Potter was... good looking, he supposed. He knew that. He just...

"Hmmm... Going off the reaction of most of the female population of Hogwarts... Straight man perspective: An eight I suppose."

"Draco?" Pansy watched him squirm, then flipped her hair impatiently. "Never mind that. I can see the looks for myself. Technique! Come on, I've always wondered, what's he like?"

"Pans..."

"What? With that gung-ho nature of his I expect he just goes for it." Pansy growled low in her throat. "That can be very attractive when done right."

Draco groaned, then sprang up from his seat. "Right. This conversation is over."

Pansy made a grab for his arm but Draco skipped out of reach. "Oh come on, Dray! That's not fair." Her voice was rising in volume and others in the common room were starting to notice.

Draco started walking without packing his bag, his things bundled in his arms. The faster he got out of there, the better.

"Draco! You know what this means, don't you?"

Draco paused just by the portrait hole, but didn't turn around. "What?"

"If you won't say, I'll just have to ask him!"

Draco spun around, losing a couple of scrolls in the process. "Don't you dare, Pans!"

Pansy smirked smugly, crossed her arms and lounged back against Blaise. "Well, why not? It's not like you're giving me any of the juicy details."

Draco's scowled as he debated staying to argue with her. But honestly, there wasn't much he could do, and Pansy, her smug smirk firmly in place, knew it. If he stayed, she would be pestering him for details he wasn't ready to think about yet, let alone divulge. And if he didn't give her answers, she would either question Potter or she wouldn't. There wasn't much he could do about that either. Giving it up for a lost cause, he scowled harder, collected his parchment and turned back towards the portrait hole.

Behind him, Blaise spoke up, his tone just as smug as the look on Pansy's face. "You might want to visit Greenhouse Three while you're wandering around."

Glancing over his shoulder he raised one eyebrow at Blaise, but something about the look on his face said Draco probably shouldn't ask for details right this second. He allowed the portrait to swing shut behind him, took a minute to pack his book bag, then headed out towards Greenhouse Three. Now that his essay had been interrupted, he might as well check out what had put that half amused, half teasing look on Blaise's face.

"Hello?"

"Draco?"

Potter. Of course it was Potter. Draco sighed inwardly and stepped fully into the Greenhouse. He couldn't see Potter but given he'd answered him quickly enough he was probably around here somewhere and had a perfectly ridiculous reason for being out here. He knew for a fact that Potter hadn't been given any detentions since the last time they'd gotten into a proper dustup.

A few metres down the main aisle, the fern and shrouds on his right shook before Potter ducked under them and emerged. Potter, but a Potter like he'd never seen before.

He was dressed in nothing but a pair of ragged jeans, hanging precariously on his hips, garden gloves and a pair of dirty sneakers. His torso and arms had smudges of dirt on them and dripped with sweat from the mugginess in the greenhouse, his hair plastered to his forehead. There was a streak of mud across his forehead where he had tried to push back his bangs. As he straightened up, all that gorgeous muscle gleaming as it shifted under velvety skin, Potter's face lit up with a ridiculous grin when he spotted Draco.

"Hi!" He moved forward as if to give Draco a hug then stopped short and glanced down at himself. The grin turned sheepish as he shot Draco an apologetic look.

Draco was having trouble swallowing his drool, as dry as his throat was, and it was a struggle keeping his jaws clenched shut.

"What're you doing here?"

Draco forcefully removed his eyes from where they were glued to Potter's chest. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?"

"I'm just helping Madam Sprout move some of her seedlings before the frost sets in. With the expected cold spell, she's likely to lose part of her crop if they aren't repotted today, or latest tomorrow."

Draco's eyebrows rose. "And you volunteered?"

Smile half-rueful, Potter just shrugged. "I may not take NEWT level Herbology, but even I can't mess up something as simple as re-potting." He glanced at Draco with a ridiculously hopeful expression. "You want to help?"

"What do I look like, Longbottom?"

There was that half-smile again. "Neville helped earlier, but he has class this period."

Draco sighed. "Potter, seriously. You may enjoy wallowing in filth but I refuse to get that much dirt on my person."

Potter own sigh was half mocking, then he smiled at Draco and turned back towards where he'd been working. "Come on then. You can keep me company while I work." He glanced over his shoulder to offer a wicked grin before he disappeared behind the ferns. "It'll give you a chance to act snide about my technique."

Draco jumped at the comment, startled. Coincidence? 'Bloody Pansy.' She had him as jumpy as a first year. Sighing, he followed Potter to where he was sitting surrounded by rows of seedlings and saplings in individual pouches, waiting to be repotted.

He cleaned off a table in one corner and spread out his homework, settling in. At least he was guaranteed some peace and quiet. For one thing, Potter was busy. He tended to hum when he worked with his hands, which was soothing in its own way and unlikely to bother Draco. For another, he seemed to be weirdly in tune with Draco's moods and never pushed with awkward questions when Draco would rather he leave well enough alone.

In the end, he spent as much time working as watching the play of muscles along Potter's shoulder blades, the flexing of his arms and chest, the way his jeans stretched when he crouched, snug against his arse and thighs, the rivulets of sweat as they dribbled down surprisingly chiseled, toned, velvety skin, making his mouth water.

'Ten. Definite ten.'

Draco smirked to himself. And if Pansy only knew just how above adequate Potter's technique was he wasn't sure that he wouldn't have a fight for the brunette on his hands.

Harry yelped when he found himself being yanked backwards through a classroom door. Before his wand had cleared its holster though, he was pushed against the closed door and a warm body pressed against his. He caught a glimpse of Malfoy's wicked grin and then lips and teeth were ravaging his, and his eyes slid shut without his permission. He moaned as Malfoy both pulled Harry into himself and pushed him into the wall as he leaned more of his weight all along his length at the same time.

The moan cut off in the middle when someone tried to open the door behind him, both of them freezing in place, staring at each other with wide eyes. The door nudged Harry's back again and he pressed against it more firmly, Malfoy letting go of him to press both hands against the door as well.

"Hello? Professor?" The voice was thin and high with anxiety. A young voice.

The knots in Harry's shoulders loosened. A student – especially a young one – would be infinitely easier than a professor to deal with. "Give me a second," he whispered to Malfoy, then grabbed his book bag from where he'd dropped it, pulling out his Invisibility cloak. He'd taken to carrying it around with him lately. He nodded to Malfoy just before he disappeared under it.

Malfoy adjusted his robes, swept his hair back into place, swung the door open, crossed his arms and stared down at the small boy hopping from foot to foot anxiously. "Yes?"

Harry bit his lip to suppress his giggles. Trust Malfoy to go from mad snogging straight to arrogant condescension. The boy's lips were rounded in a perfect o, his eyes huge as he looked up at Malfoy. He couldn't be older than a second year, if that.

"Oh. Oh, but... I was supposed to meet Professor Flitwick here and... and I didn't want to be late and..."

Malfoy didn't say a word. Just raised one eyebrow and moved out of the way. The Second Year inched by him warily, then sped up, heading for the desk fartherest from Malfoy. Harry took the opportunity to slip out of the unobstructed door. If a professor was on his way, Malfoy and he needed to make themselves scarce. And fast.

Malfoy gave the poor kid another look down his nose, grabbed his bag and banged the door of the classroom closed behind him.

A giggle slipped out as Harry, still under his cloak, grabbed Malfoy's hand and tugged him along behind him, running on impulse, looking for a corridor that was likely to be abandoned at this time of day. Finally coming to a stop some five minutes later, they both burst out laughing. Harry pulled off the cloak, though he didn't let go of Malfoy's hand. For long moments, they just laughed, leaning against each other.

It was only as Harry straightened, gulping in air to ease his breathing, that he registered where they'd ended up. He supposed it had been instinct – the Room of Requirement had always represented sanctuary to him and it was only natural that he head for the seventh floor corridor when trying to get away. He glanced at Malfoy when his laughter cut off abruptly as he finally noticed where they were.

"Potter..." Malfoy gulped and tried to tug his hand out of Harry's grasp.

Harry didn't let go, rather pulling him closer, slipping his other arm around his waist to hold him in place.

"Potter, let go. Now."

"No."

Draco's stomach was churning and he felt like he would throw up at any moment. The only thing preventing him from running without looking back was the warm hold around his waist and the fingers squeezing his. His voice came out shakier than he would have liked in the face of that unequivocal no. "Potter, please..."

Potter froze for one moment, as if he hadn't been expected that pleading note in Draco's voice. But Draco would do anything, even plead, if he could get away from the scene of one of his many waking nightmares, staring at the blank wall where there had once been a door that opened to admit three, but only two returned.

And suddenly his view of the wall was obscured as Potter unfroze, pulling him into a tight embrace, gathering Draco to himself, a firm hand in Draco's hair that turned his face into Potter's neck, arms wrapping tightly around him.

And then that was all that was there, the warmth of Potter, seeping into him everywhere, the clean scent of him surrounding him, keeping the memories at bay. They stood like that while Draco clung to Potter's robes, concentrating on his breathing, each inhale of Potter's soap centering him, each whiff of his cotton fresh deodorant clearing his thoughts a little more, until he finally became aware that Potter was murmuring softly, his voice a reassuring counter to the steady beating of his heart that Draco could feel where his lips were pressed against Potter's pulse.

Potter's lips were pressed to his temple, caressing softly as he murmured the same litany endlessly.

"Shhh. I'm here. I got you. Hush, now. It's fine. I checked. It's okay. Shhh. You're here. It's fine."

Draco listened for a while, his grip on Potter's robes easing though he didn't let go, letting the warmth curl through him. "What do you mean, you checked?"

The murmuring stopped. Potter didn't loosen his hold but moved his head back a little so he could look Draco in the eye. "When we came back. I checked. I wanted to see if the room still worked."

Draco blinked. He had a feeling there was something he should be getting worked up about but he was warm and he felt safe for the first time in so bloody long, in literally years. He didn't want to lose the warmth, he didn't want to move.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeat. Three.

"You've been in there?"

A huff of breath ruffled his hair as Harry smiled. "Yeah. The Room of Hidden Things is gone. It wouldn't come even when I asked for it. But other things, other rooms, they're still there."

One heartbeat. Two heartbeat. Three.

"Want to see?"

Draco could feel his body trying to tense up even as Potter tightened his hold on him. After a few seconds, Potter trailed his lips along his cheekbone, down to his nose and back up to his ear. "Come on. It'll be okay. You'll see."

Draco shivered at the feel of lips trailing along the shell of his ear. His thoughts clearly short-circuiting somewhere along the way, he felt himself nod.

One heartbeat. Two heartbeat. Three.

Then Potter squeezed him once before slipping from the embrace to pace back and forth three times. Before Draco properly had time to miss the warmth Potter was back, his arms linked around Draco, both of them watching the wooden door that appeared.

Draco looked up at Potter who was smiling one of his soft smiles at him. Before he could give in to the dread trying to rise inside him Potter bent forward and covered Draco's lips with his own.

Draco gladly submitted, deepening the kiss, meeting Potter lick for lick, stroke for stroke, devouring as well as being devoured.

When they broke apart, lungs screaming for air, Potter simply hugged Draco to his side, one arm wrapped around him firmly, almost tucking him against himself, and pulled open the wooden door.

Draco blinked. He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't an approximation of the Eighth Year Common Room, with its subtle hues, touches of all four houses scattered through it, lamps at intervals providing light without being too harshly bright. He moved forward into the room to get a better look, not noticing when the door clicked shut behind him.

Completing his circuit, he was faced once again with Potter, leaning against a wingback chair.

Harry watched as the set of Malfoy's shoulders slowly relaxed as he explored the room and realized just how different from the Room of Hidden Things it really was.

He'd asked for a room that would put Malfoy at ease. He hadn't realized Malfoy was this comfortable in the common room, but it made sense. It was where Harry found him most often during daylight hours when they weren't in class.

When Malfoy finally looked back at him, he moved to the largest sofa and patted the seat next to him.

Malfoy grimaced. "Please, Potter. None of that. As I remember it, you owe me from the last time as it is."

Harry grinned. Malfoy had to be feeling better if he was up to complaining about snuggling. He kicked off his shoes, loosened his tie, shrugged off his robes and leaned back into the cushions comfortably. "Okay. Go for it. What do you want?"

Malfoy stayed put, a small frown creasing his brows as he thought, chewing on his bottom lip. Harry waited, happy to just watch the way the soft lamp light shone off Malfoy's hair and skin, adding almost golden sparkles to his eyes. When Malfoy finally came to sit on the other side of the sofa, a safe distance away, there was a wary look in his eyes.

Harry's brows rose. "What's up?"

Malfoy hesitated, then blurted out with, "Why did the Dursleys call you 'freak'?"

All of Harry's muscles locked and he had to clench his teeth to keep them from snarling. In all honesty, that was a fair question, and Malfoy clearly had not forgotten the last time Harry had had one of his 'episodes'. The Dursleys were just one of the triggers for that soul destroying ache that sometimes consumed him while he indulged in self pity and tortured himself with what ifs. What if his parents had lived? What if the Dursleys had actually cared for him? What if Dumbledore hadn't died? What if Harry had?

Malfoy was watching him carefully now, no doubt watching to see if Harry would answer his question or if there would be a return of his black mood.

Well. Harry had promised. And for some reason, he didn't feel trapped into answering the way he would have if Ron or Hermione or any of the Weasleys for that matter had pressed the issue. Probably because he knew that if he told Malfoy, not today, he wouldn't see that as Harry refusing to let him in or bottling his destructive emotions or cutting him out or any of the other things that had become Hermione's favorite phrases for a while. Rather, he would back off and take him at him world and bring the question up again another day.

But. If he was going to be answering questions, he was going to do it on his own terms.

Settling back into the cushions again, some of Harry's tension finally leaked out. He beckoned Malfoy towards himself. "Shoes and robe off if you want to hear this one, Malfoy."

Malfoy gave him a skeptical look, but his curiosity clearly won out as Harry had known it would. He toed off his shoes, took off his robes and came to sit between Harry's legs, his back pressed against Harry's chest, leaning back into him and automatically adjusting his arms to allow where Harry clasped him around the middle.

Harry tugged Draco backwards until he was practically plastered along his front and inhaled the citrusy smell of Draco's shampoo, his nose buried in the nape of Draco's neck.

"They never wanted me, you know. Dumbledore made my aunt keep me until I was of age because of the blood ward protections that were tied to a house where my mother's blood lived. I don't know how she convinced Uncle Dursley to put up with me when clearly she didn't want me there as much as him. But Dumbledore made them, so they kept me." Harry paused here but Malfoy didn't say anything. "But because my parents were magic, I was always a freak to them. I could never do anything right, no matter how hard I tried. We weren't allowed to say the m word in the house. Magic. Such a small word, but it can make all the difference in the world."

Harry rested his cheek against the back of Draco's neck, listening to the two of them breathing, feeling the way Draco's thumb was making small smoothing circles on the back of his hands where they rested in Draco's lap.

"This one time I was being chased by Dudley – my cousin – and his gang when I managed to – apparate I suppose. In any case, I went from being on the ground to hiding behind the chimney pots on the school roof." Harry paused. Gave Malfoy's fingers a squeeze. "That was not a good week for little-me I'm afraid. Accusations of unnaturalness and freak were par for the course by now, but that week was especially not good."

Harry could feel the moroseness tugging at him as he thought about other weeks that had been not good – especially when lived through the eyes of a small bewildered boy who couldn't figure out why he had to be different and would often wonder if he wasn't a freak after all, memories of hours spent in his cupboard reassuring himself that Dudley was the freak, not him, curling around him. Not him, not him.

Suddenly Draco whipped around in the circle of his arms, breaking his hold to kneel between his legs. He tugged at Harry's hair with one hand and tossed his glasses aside with the other before a warm, wet mouth was devouring Harry's.

Draco leaned into him, over him, pushing him back into the cushions, tugging his hair to give himself better access to his mouth, moving forward until he was straddling Harry's lap. Harry's hands were on his hips, pulling his shirt from his trousers, stroking his ribs under his shirt, yanking at his tie, fumbling with the shirt buttons, his fingers ghosting along his abs, teasing his pecs, all the while lips and teeth and tongue continuing in their assault.

Harry was drowning in sensation as he let his fingers roam all that expanse of silky smooth skin, kneading and stroking and memorizing the dips and ridges with his fingers.

Draco broke off the kiss and pushing both his hands into messy black hair, tightened his fists and yanked painfully until Harry was starring him straight in the eye, nose to nose. "You listen to me now, Potter. And you listen good. Because I do not want to have to repeat this. You listening?"

Harry nodded his head even though it hurt to move it with the tight grip Draco had on him. The fierce shine in his eyes was oddly fascinating, more than the huffs of his breath against his lips were distracting.

"You, Potter, are NOT a freak. You may be unnatural in many ways – your affinity for your Gryffindor ways for example, but you are not. A. Freak. Am I getting through to you or do you want me to use smaller words?"

There was an odd prickling at the corners of Harry's eyes and his throat was tight when he tried to speak. "You sure about that, Malfoy? Not even a little freakish?"

Draco snarled and yanked Harry forward for a scorching kiss, his mouth intent on devouring, consuming, strong strokes of his tongue sending electricity zinging through Harry's veins. He moaned and matched Draco passion with an answering need, and just as he was losing all thought in his head, Draco broke off again.

"Not. A. Freak. Repeat after me."

Harry smiled a little and knew his eyes were probably getting soft even as his throat threatened to close up again. Draco gave another hard yank at his hair.

"Say it!"

Harry's voice was a soft murmur. "Not a freak."

Draco nodded his emphasis. "That's right. Not. A. Freak. You remember that or else!"

Suddenly Harry grinned, and there was an edge to it, he could tell. His fingers tightened on Draco's hips without his permission and he lunged forward, carrying Draco with him until he was flat on his back on the couch with his legs wrapped around Harry's waist. Harry poised there, with Draco's fingers still in his hair, his own spread in disarray on the couch cushions, his shirt falling open to display rosy nipples, his almost hairless chest rising and falling rhythmically. Then he ground down his hips and Draco arched off the couch towards him, his legs tightening around Harry's waist, his arms slipping around Harry's neck, clutching at the back of his t-shirt before tugging upwards. Harry relinquished his hold on Malfoy willingly, raising his arms and helping him remove his t-shirt before reaching for the lapels of Malfoy's and pushing them off his shoulders. Malfoy raised his arms as he squirmed to get the shirt off, only to get stuck when his unopened cuffs refused to slide off his wrists easily. Harry took full advantage of the open expanse of skin that lay before him as Draco lay there, with his arms trapped above his head, trailing his lips and tongue down one bicep and over his chest to circle one of the nipples experimentally. The way that Malfoy tensed and gasped and squirmed was encouraging, so Harry lapped with more purpose, leaned forward to suck and graze the nipple with his teeth.

"Fuck! Potter!"

Harry grinned around his mouthful even as he lapped and teased and nipped. Malfoy seemed to have abandoned the fight to free his hands and now had the shirt looped around Harry's back as he clutched at his shoulders. Harry trailed his mouth to the other nipple, laving and sucking and lightly grazing with his teeth until Malfoy was writhing and squirming and gasping as he clutched at Harry and arched up under him.

Harry kissed and nipped his way back up Malfoy's torso, up his neck and along his jaw until he found lips again. Their tongues tangling together, he sighed into the kiss and gave himself up to sensation, the ache in his chest easing as he left all thoughts of the Dursleys behind.

Draco sat with his head on his fist, partially hidden behind the curtain of the corner window seat in the common room. He'd been sitting there for a while now, observing quietly. Watching a few of the Eighth Years have some kind of Bertie Botts bean eating contest, clustered close to the fireplace. He'd been reading when the laughter had caught his attention. Now he just sat still, watching as the firelight highlighted a glossy nest of hair, watched green eyes sparkle with mischief. Listened to the almost melodic sound of that one laugh as it blended with other raised voices. Watched how the nose crinkled every time there was a bad tasting bean.

"Oh, fuck!"

Blaise glanced to the side with his brows raised. Before he could get any words out Pansy keeled over sideways and buried her face between his back and the couch.

"Fuck. Fuckity, fuckity, fuckity, FUCK."

"Pans?"

She sat up abruptly. "Just look at him! He's mooning! Blaise – he's mooning. Merlin's hoary, horny balls, he is mooning. Ah, fuck."

Blaise coughed a laugh, glanced at the window seat hiding Draco and returned to his notes. "Come on, Pans. We knew this one was different going in."

"Yes, but MOONING! That's a whole other different." Pansy sat there staring moodily at the group horsing around by the fireplace, then heaved a gusty sigh. "You know what we're going to have to do right?"

Blaise sighed himself and glanced at where Potter was watching Goldstein and Weasley as they wrestled for beans. "You know he won't like it."

"Yeah, well. The way he's going at the moment, I'll be surprised if he even notices."

Whatever he'd done to put Potter in this good a mood, he needed to do it more often.

Potter looked up at him through his messy bangs, green eyes intense and full to brimming, and reached up to softly brush aside the strands of hair dangling in Draco's eyes. The touch was gentle, a caress, almost tender and what Draco saw in Harry's eyes was scaring him and warming him and scaring him more. He had an almost overwhelming urge to turn and run, and to keep going until he lost the image of Harry with his glowing eyes, more honest than Draco ever deserved. But Potter's fingers were trailing along his cheek and down along his jaw, and though the touch was feather-soft, a mere whisper, it held him there like gravity.

"Oye, Potter!"

Harry looked up to see Pansy Parkinson headed in his direction wielding parchment and a quill. His eyebrows rose when she plopped down on the other side of his table in the Common Room, shoving aside some of his piles to make elbow room, but his voice was mild when he spoke. "Yes?"

"I'm conducting a survey, Potter, and it's mandatory for you to participate."

Blaise, used to Pansy, reshuffled his much neater piles to make room for her. He peeked over her shoulder at her parchment and groaned. "Pans... Don't do this-"

She pointed her quill at him. "You'll stay out of this if you know what's good for you, Zabini." Then she pointed the quill at Harry. "Right, Potter. You ready?"

Harry smiled a little. In some ways, her forceful manner reminded him of Hermione on one of her quests, although he was sure she wouldn't thank him for the comparison. "What's the survey about?"

Pansy rolled her eyes at him. "About the significant other, of course."

Harry raised one eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that I qualified as having one."

Blaise groaned again. "Pans, seriously. He's going to kill you when he finds out."

"I'm not planning on telling him. Are you planning on telling him?"

Blaise sighed, shook his head and went back to his essay. "Right. I am officially disavowing all knowledge."

"Pussy," Pansy sneered at him, before turning towards Harry with an expectant look.

He looked between Pansy and Blaise, both studiously not looking at each other even though they were sitting next to one another, then merely shrugged. He didn't know what kinds of questions Pansy wanted answered but it wouldn't hurt to hear her out.

Apparently taking his reticence as acquiescence, Pansy straightened her parchment. "Right. Question one. Rate the following on a scale of one to ten. A. Smile."

Harry eyebrows met his hairline again. "Really? That's what your survey's about?" He glanced at Blaise again where he continued to concentrate on his notes although Harry could tell he was listening.

"Just shut up and answer the question, Potter."

Harry's lips quirked. "Right. Smile. Umm, ten."

Pansy looked at him. "Really? Ten?"

Harry shrugged. "What? I like his smile. Not that smirk thing he carries around with him all the time. His proper smile. The one he doesn't like anyone to see."

Suddenly Pansy and Blaise were both supporting smiles as they busily scribbled on their respective parchments. Proper ones that were rare for Slytherins in general and would usually devolve into smirks pretty quickly.

Pansy cleared her throat before continuing. "Right. Smile: ten. B. Appearance."

Harry stared at the far wall and smiled to himself as he recalled how he'd left Draco the last time they'd 'run into' each other. Hair disheveled, eyes bright, lips swollen, color tingeing his cheeks...

"Hellooo. Earth to Potter."

He blinked and focused back on Pansy and Blaise, both of whom were smirking at him.

"I'll put that down as a ten then shall I?"

Harry grinned sheepishly as he felt his cheeks warm. "Umm."

Blaise snorted and returned to his notes. "Right."

"Hush, you. Okay, C. Magical prowess."

Harry blinked and gave her a skeptical look. "Magical prowess?"

"What are you, slow? Yes, magical prowess! For fuck's sake, get with the program, Potter!"

Harry grinned as he settled in his seat. At least he wasn't likely to get bored any time soon.

Draco was feeling smug as he entered the Common Room. For once, despite Potter's best efforts earlier, he was caught up on all of his school work. Not to mention, he had managed to dodge Pansy and her ridiculous questions so far. Halfway across the Common Room, he came to an abrupt halt. Pansy and Potter at the same table – nothing good could come of this.

He walked as quietly as he could as he approached the table, just as Pansy was asking, "K. Favorite physical feature?"

Potter looked up from where he was fiddling with a quill and his face lit up in that ridiculous smile he reserved just for Draco. "Hey."

Draco ignored him for the moment to focus on Blaise and Pansy as they twisted in their seats to look at him. The smirks they were supporting were not reassuring in the least. "What is going on here?"

Pansy sighed, then rolled up the parchment she had been scribbling on before getting up from her seat. "I can already tell you're going to be a party pooper, so I'll just save you the trouble." She stretched up to kiss his cheek, then murmured, "At least you'll be happy to know he refused to answer the technique question as well."

Draco choked on his own spit. "Pans! You didn't-"

She was walking away before he could finish his sentence. "Later, darlings." She pointed a manicured finger at Potter. "We'll talk."

Potter just grinned and gave her a mock salute before turning back to look at Draco.

He didn't know what to do even as he felt both Potter and Blaise watching him expectantly. There was a seething mass of emotion in his gut that was making him slightly nauseous. He wasn't sure he wanted to know all of what Pansy had been asking Potter. Worse, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what Potter's replies had been. He finally stirred when Blaise sighed and started packing up his books and parchment.

"I guess that's enough for today. We'll finish up later, Harry?"

Potter nodded at Blaise, but his eyes were on Draco, an almost blankness on his face that didn't suit him as he continued to fiddle with his quill, running it through his fingers again and again.

Blaise placed a hand on Draco's shoulder as he passed and squeezed. "Sit."

So Draco sat, his bag still on his shoulder, not sure what to expect exactly. A part of him was mourning the loss of that smile Potter had greeted him with. He should have returned it. Shouldn't have ignored it. Maybe then Potter wouldn't look the way he did. It wasn't so much an emotion that was distasteful as the lack of expression that was making his gut writhe.

Potter sighed softly, dropped the quill and placed his hands flat on the table. "Should I not have gone along with that?"

Draco blinked. It took him a moment to realize Potter was talking about Pansy and her questions. "I'm not sure Pansy can be avoided except through sheer bull-headedness." He peeked at Potter to check his expression. There was the hint of a smile there. Something inside his chest unclenched a little. "Thought that would be right up your alley."

"Yeah, well... I guess I wanted to know what kind of questions you would put in a survey like that."

Draco blinked again. "Survey...? That bitch! She actually made out a survey?"

Definitely a smile there now as Potter bit his lip. "What did you think was happening?"

"I figured Pansy was being her usual nosy self with her questions. But a survey... that wench! There are no limits to her need for gossip." Draco looked up when there was no reply from Potter. Instead, he was sitting there with a soft look in his eyes that made Draco squirm and the hint of smile about his lips. "What, Potter?" Draco couldn't help it if his voice came out a bit belligerent.

"I don't think the survey was meant as a way to get gossip. I wouldn't have answered her questions if I thought that. I think she's just worried about you because you won't tell her anything." The smile grew, dazzling Draco a little. "Which I have to remember to thank you for properly."

Draco could tell his cheeks were getting warm and he got up hurriedly, tossing his words over his shoulder as he made his way to the dorms stairwell. "Yeah, well. Whatever, Potter." He stopped and turned just before he disappeared around the bend. Potter was still staring after him, and he winked when his eyes met Draco's.

Draco ducked his head and headed up the stairs. He had a bone to pick with Pansy. But maybe he'd go look for her later. The warmth filling his chest wouldn't let him work up a good head of steam just yet.

Hermione was actually pouting by the time Harry finished talking. "Well. Maybe I need to devise a survey of my own. Seriously, Harry, it's like pulling teeth with you these days."

"Well, I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

Hermione just huffed. "And I should be grateful for small mercies I suppose?"

Harry grinned. "Come on, 'Mione. Don't be like that!" Then his smile softened. "I kind of want Draco and me to figure this one out on our own. And I don't want him freaking out because he has to deal with the fuss everyone is going to make. And you know there'll be a fuss."

Hermione's frown softened. "He's Draco now?"

Harry grinned at her. "Sometimes he is."

Hermione sighed, put upon, but she was smiling now. "Fine, Harry Potter. I suppose I have to let you figure some things out for yourself. As frustratingly slow as that process may be."

"Hey!" Harry squeezed her hand in gratitude even as the conversation devolved into bickering about relative intellectual prowess.

SNAP!

Harry gasped as he landed on his wrist, agony thrumming up his arm in pulses. Rolling on to his side, he gingerly extracted his arm from under him, sweat beading his forehead as he shivered violently, teeth clenched to keep from screaming out loud. He cradled the rapidly swelling wrist against his chest and panted for breath, trying to slow down his breathing before he hyperventilated.

When the spots finally stopped dancing in front of his eyes and he didn't think he was going to pass out, he groaned and sat up. "Note to self. Must not break fall with hand. It might not end well."

He groaned some more at the thought of what was probably waiting for him in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey would scold. Hermione would scold. Ron would get his worried look. And Malfoy. God, he did not want to think about the kind of withering commentary Draco was likely to come up with. He winced and started muttering under his breath as he waited for enough will to arrive to get up and move from his current place in the third floor corridor. "God, Potter. You're an idiot, Potter. Moreover, you're an impervious to pain idiot, Potter. When will you learn, Potter. Watch where you're going, Potter. The world will not rearrange itself to prevent your tripping and landing on your face, Potter."

Harry sighed and shuffled until he was slouched against the nearest wall, head tilted back and eyes closed. It would be useless to protest that he had simply been walking along and the floor was to blame really. Hogwarts was a great bit dirty castle, for Christ's sake. The flagstones were not designed to help the uncoordinated. Harry sighed again. For all Malfoy's whinging that it was clearly his own fault and that he needed to stop day dreaming all the fucking time!, he wished the irascible blond was present. Listening to him rant every time he managed to collect a scrape and not notice was weirdly soothing. Harry snorted. Who could've guessed?

He tried regulating his breathing again, trying to breathe through the pain. Slightly counterproductive when his broken wrist was resting on his chest and every inhale and exhale caused it to pulse until his teeth ached. The shivering wasn't a good thing either. It meant he was likely to collect more scrapes if he tried standing right this minute. Maybe he'd just stay here and wait. Malfoy was bound to come looking for him sometime.

Draco was whistling softly as he arranged his notes and homework for the next day of classes. He was in an inexplicably good mood. He tended to good moods rather than fierce scowling these days. Some days he couldn't believe he almost hadn't come back. It was all working out better than he had imagined it would. Of course, the first couple of months back had been more a miserable daze of trying to slog through each day as best he could... Draco paused with a book suspended, frowning, as he contemplated what that implied about the reason why things had drastically improved in the short time since then. He had to admit school was starting to feel like school again. Albeit with a weird sense of freedom attached. He would have thought that had to do with the professors treating them like adults and giving them some leeway in that they were older and had all survived to see today together. But he had a feeling that wasn't all of it. There might have been something to the determinedly unrestrained lease on life Potter insisted on spreading in the Eighth Year Common Room. It was catching, and even the most reluctant gave in without realizing.

He remembered the great Eighth Year Cookout from a few days ago. Granger had had a fit when she had walked in to find the fireplace had been appropriated as an impromptu oven. She had yelled and scolded and preached about the dangers of cooking over an open flame in a carpeted room and the Responsibilities Of The Head Girl, but Draco had seen her taking in the bright expressions of everyone who was gathered in the Common Room. The conspiratorial grins, the inter-house groupings, the distinct lack of anything morose, or sad, or brooding. And he had seen her give in to the madness and allow herself to be persuaded to help ice some of the cupcakes.

And it was madness. There was no other way to explain how so many of the Eighth Years could have been persuaded to then hand out said cupcakes all day as they walked from class to class. The entire day, he had heard 'Spread the Cheer!' in every corridor where an Eighth Year had visited. And if he had bothered to look, he would no doubt have found them with ridiculous baskets decorated in house colors and handing out cupcakes. Even Goyle had agreed to take a basket so that Slytherin colors would also be represented!

Draco sighed and finished packing his bag. He'd think about the madness that was Potter later. Right now he was meant to be meeting His Sparkiness in the Room of Requirement.

Harry rubbed his gritty eyes with his free hand while Madam Pomfrey fixed his wrist and Hermione fussed.

"Really, Harry. I'm glad you sent your Patronus to get me, but I wish you'd called sooner. You have to be more careful."

Harry wished he had sent it sooner too. The wrist would have looked less ugly than the purple, swollen mess it had been when Hermione got there. A small part of him also wished he'd sent it to Draco. At the time he'd just remembered that Hermione was closest when she got out of her Arithmancy class and that Draco was probably in the Common Room and so a shiny silver stag walking up to him randomly would probably cause comment. And not just because everyone knew what his Patronus looked like.

"There. All done, Mr. Potter. I would ask you to be careful of that wrist for a few days but what would be the point."

Harry winced. It never boded well when Pomfrey had been reduced to snark.

Hermione was frowning. "It was an accident, Madam Pomfrey. Harry can't help that." Then she gave him a narrow eyed look. "This time it was an accident."

The Pain Relieving Potion didn't seem to be helping with the headache that was lodged behind his eyes. "I'm just going to lie down for a couple of hours and then it'll be fine. Right, Madam Pomfrey?"

The matron shook her head in exasperation a little bit. "Yes, Mr. Potter. Then it should be fine, though you can expect it to stay tender for a few hours still." Then she turned sharply and marched back to her office.

"Oh, Harry. Come on then, let's get you settled in."

Harry let her fuss with bed clothes and obediently closed his eyes at her edict. Listening to her retreating footsteps, he felt weary. The same kind of tired that had him waiting a half hour until Hermione got done with her class before he asked her to come collect him. He wanted Draco. The blonde was mouthy and sarcastic and moody and familiar. Harry was aching in weird ways and he wanted comfort and Draco had somehow wormed his way into representing comfort in the past month and a half. Despite the fact that he said it like it was a dirty word every time, he would let Harry canoddle if he asked.

Listening to the end of day traffic outside the Infirmary, Harry sat up abruptly. He collected his robes and book bag, shoved his feet into his shoes, and walked out as quietly and as quickly as he could before Madam Pomfrey came out to stop him from leaving.

Draco looked up when the door to the Room of Requirement opened and Potter slipped through. He walked towards Draco and kept going until he walked into Draco, then stood there leaning against him. Potter made no effort to hold on, just leaned with his face buried in Draco's neck.

Draco blinked. This was ... just like Potter, but it was also new. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around Potter's frame, who made a small encouraging noise but otherwise didn't move. Draco smirked a little. "Bad day at work?"

Potter snorted softly into his neck and finally straightened up, although he did it without breaking Draco's hold on him. "Tired." His face gave credence to just that. He looked pale with exhaustion, making the dark circles under his eyes look like bruises. His hair was flattened on one side and wildly sticking up on the other. His eyelids drooped, and he had a glazed look in his eyes like he would collapse where he was standing any minute.

Draco tightened his arms unconsciously and frowned at the waif he was confronted with. "Bloody hell, Potter. You're not kidding. When was the last time you got a whole night's sleep?"

Potter just looked away and shrugged.

"Hmph. That's it. Come on then. You're going to get some proper sleep if it kills you."

Potter's eyes lightened a little as he looked back and leaned against Draco some more, his arms dangling by his side. Draco held him there for a bit, then started backwards towards the couch, pulling Potter along with him.

He relieved Potter of school robes and satchel, then pushed him onto the cushions. "Hold on. I'll find you something to use as a pillow."

Potter gave a disgruntled grunt and yanked on his sleeve until Draco took a seat next to him. Then he sort of keeled over until his head was in Draco's lap.

"Potter! You are not using me as a human cushion. I refuse. What? You can look all you want. I'm not going to change my mind. Come on, Potter. Off. Potter, no. Seriously. Won't a nice soft, fluffy pillow be better? You can't possibly be very comfortable."

In the end, Draco gave in to the tired eyes that had stared at him all the while that Potter was busy not saying anything. He plucked the glasses from Potter's nose and folded them carefully. By the time he was done situating them suitably, Potter's eyes were closed, his forehead now turned to rest against Draco's belly. Draco hesitated, then placed one hand on unruly hair to keep the head in place as he reached for a book from his own book bag.

And if he left the hand in place while he put his feet up and read, well that was only because it was the most comfortable position to be sitting in and for no other reason.