Harry had never been on holiday before. In fact, the idea Harry would ever go on holiday in his life had never entered his life. Before Hogwarts, Harry had sometimes fantasized about going on holiday, but the fact the Dursleys constantly bragged about the holidays they went on (without taking him, naturally) soured him to the concept. Once he got into Hogwarts, he supposed he must have subconsciously come to believe he wouldn't live long enough to graduate and have one. But then again, Harry had never been much of a long term planner. He'd always been a more in the moment kind of guy, even before his life had been repeatedly placed in jeopardy.

He had been very worried Dumbledore would try to stop him from leaving the castle, especially since he was going to be leaving with Dumbledore's long time enemies, the Malfoys, but Dumbledore appeared to be far too busy to even pay the slightest amount of attention to Harry. Harry had stealthily put his name on the list of people leaving for the holidays, and then he'd just waltzed out of the castle towards Hogsmeade, his boyfriend by his side, and no one had made the slightest move to stop him.

While Harry remembered the version of the Yule Ball everyone else did, the one where Karkaroff framed Dumbledore, killed Bones, and then got killed by Dumbledore in self-defense, he knew very well his memories were fake. Dumbledore had pulled the wool over most everyone's eyes about Karkaroff being involved in just about every sinister incident since his arrival, but Harry knew better. Karkaroff hadn't been in the country when Mrs. Weasley was subverted. It was Dumbledore, once more exerting his control.

Harry really had no clue what to do next. If Dumbledore could wipe out a squadron of Aurors like they were nothing and mentally subvert everyone who tried to take him down, what could even be done? Harry may have been seen as special by the public, but he knew he had a mere fraction of Dumbledore's power. As much as it grated against his instincts, he couldn't help but the only option available to him was to finish the Tournament and then just run away along with the rest of his friends. Dumbledore's power simply eclipsed Harry's, both magically and politically.

Harry decided he would put it out of his mind for the moment. He had two weeks with his boyfriend (and his mother who may or may not be a Death Eater) in his luxurious mansion on the coast of Monaco, and he was determined to enjoy himself as much as possible. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you may get eaten by a dragon, that was Harry's new motto. Or maybe by a basilisk. Or maybe he'd drown in the Second Task. Or maybe…

Draco planted a kiss on his cheek, abruptly taking him out of his spiraling thoughts. "What's got you down in the dumps? We're going to have a fabulous time!"

"Sorry, Draco," Harry said with a crooked grin. "It's hard not to worry sometimes."

Draco stared him in the eyes, his face earnest. "I will do everything I can to protect you, Harry. We're all working round the clock to make sure you do well in the task. I know this isn't going to be easy, but I'm on your side now. And as you well remember, I can be quite the formidable enemy indeed."

Harry looked at him askance. "Draco, you have literally never won a single one of our confrontations. You didn't show up for our midnight duel, you never got me with a single one of your insults, I won our duel during the Dueling Club…"

The old Draco probably would have run off crying or promising his father was going to hear about this, but the new Draco looked completely unconcerned. "There, you see? You can handle yourself just fine. Anyway, my heart was never really in it back then." He cringed. "I was just trying to be more like my father. I didn't realize it was my mother I should have been more like…"

Harry frowned. Lady Malfoy may have been on his side, but she was still not a good person or a person he felt Draco should emulate. "I mean, anybody's better than your dad, but still, Draco, we don't have to be like our parents. Everyone expects us to, but I don't want to be the next James or Lily Potter. I just want to be me."

Draco looked pensive. "Easy for you to say. You being you is much safer than me being me." Harry did have to concede he had a point there. Draco's change of heart had left him in legitimate danger from Lord Malfoy. In fact, the only reason he probably survived the Yule Ball was Lady Malfoy's timely intervention.

"Let's not talk about this now," Harry decided. "It's time to enjoy ourselves! Dumbledore, the Tasks, your dad, let's just put them in the past."

"Sounds like a plan."

As expected, Lady Malfoy met them at King's Cross. She seemed quite delighted to see them, even beyond the mask of a doting mother she was putting on for the other parents. What Harry did not expect was instead of Apparating them to Monaco, Lady Malfoy instead led them to the street where a limousine was waiting. Draco seemed to handle the idea of being in a car better than Harry had expected. He supposed it wasn't that much of a leap from being in a train now that he thought about it.

"So why are we taking Muggle transport, Lady Malfoy?" Harry asked.

Lady Malfoy gave a surprisingly light and whimsical smile. She looked very relaxed. "I thought it would be a good education for Draco. For my own reasons, I also would like to avoid being tracked by the Ministry right now. They neither know nor care one jot about Muggle transportation. Naturally, I chartered a private jet. I will not permit us to travel in anything less than the height of elegance, Muggle or not."

Draco looked out at the streets of London with a childlike awe as they drove through it. Harry couldn't help but grin at his boyfriend's enthusiasm. It was also a little jarring, considering how Draco had made himself known as a Muggle hater for so long. But not unwelcome. Draco was never going to be a person who loved Muggles. He certainly wasn't a person who ever would have willingly associated with them unless it was absolutely necessary. But it was nice to see that Draco could at least learn to appreciate them.

As they drove through the streets of London, Draco kept on asking him all sorts of questions, relentlessly, about various aspects of Muggle life. It was refreshing, honestly, to see Draco so relaxed and open. Without the need to put on a front as he had at Hogwarts, with no one to see Draco except for his boyfriend and mother, both of whom supported him, Harry was seeing Draco in his purest, most open form. And Harry really liked it.

Their journey eventually led them to Gatwick. Draco's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw the jet planes on the tarmac. Harry knew from Draco's stories about visiting the Imperial War Museum that he knew what airplanes were and had seen some examples of bombers from the war, but there was a difference between that and the Concorde. "They're incredible," he whispered.

"I'd have thought you'd be used to Muggle vehicles by now," Harry said in a teasing tone. "After all, weren't you the one who said you often had run-ins with helicopters while flying?"

Lady Malfoy's head shot over to her son, her face filled with alarm. "You did what?" she said, her voice poisonously quiet and icy.

Draco put up his hands frantically as his face turned red. Harry just leaned back in his seat and smirked at the thought of getting a bit of payback for those years of bullying. He knew Draco had changed, profoundly, but a little bit of humility every so often would probably be good for him. As long as he didn't take matters too far. "I was just making things up! Just, you know, boasting."

"We do not joke about violating the Statute of Secrecy, Draco," Lady Malfoy said patiently. "I did not raise you to be a braggart." Harry arched an eyebrow. As much as he respected Lady Malfoy as a veritable force of nature and as his boyfriend's mother, he didn't exactly have the highest opinion of her parenting skills. Draco's secretly wonderful personality was something he got on his own, not from his psychopathic father or sociopathic mother.

"Your head must have been in the clouds when she taught you that lesson," Harry said. "Or should I say, the helicopters in the clouds?"

Draco glared at him. "I'm already starting to regret this trip." Harry just stuck out his tongue unrepentantly at him. He loved being able to joke and make banter with his boyfriend. He loved having a boyfriend, period. It was just the strangest thing how comfortable he felt with Draco. If he had told his eleven year old self this would happen, he never would have believed it.

Whatever regrets Draco may have had entirely evaporated when they got to the private jet Lady Malfoy chartered. (At least Harry hoped she chartered it. Knowing her, it was equally likely she stole it or maybe Confunded some rich person into giving it to her, which was even worse. But Harry wasn't going to stress about that, not when he had plausible deniability on his side.) The jet may not have been as big as the Concorde, but it sure had a much more luxurious interior. Harry felt a vicious sense of satisfaction at the realization that the Dursleys would have killed to ride aboard a private jet half as luxurious as this one.

"I can't believe Muggles made all this without any magic," Draco said, experimentally plopping on a chair and reclining it backwards. "It boggles the mind. And what have we accomplished? It seems like we haven't invented anything new in ages!"

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, but your overall point is valid," Lady Malfoy said, seeming to be completely chill and comfortable in her completely Muggle surroundings. "Their lack of magic itself, I believe, is what makes Muggles more innovative than us. They have had to be creative to come up to workarounds for things we could accomplish with the flick of our wands." She sighed deeply. "Unfortunately, they are also more adept at the art of killing."

There was a somber silence in the cabin. Harry shuddered to think of the consequences of the Statute of Secrecy falling. He knew most Muggles weren't like Vernon, but in his opinion, the ones who possessed power, no matter what side of the political spectrum, were like him or even worse. They could be looking at the return of the witch hunts of old, at outright genocide, with the witch hunters possessing unparalleled weaponry and surveillance technology. The magical community would fall and it would be hideously ugly. It was enough to give one nightmares.

Lady Malfoy suddenly clapped her hands. "But enough brooding! Let's try to enjoy ourselves!" The door to the cockpit opened and someone wearing a very smart pilot's uniform stepped out and Harry did a double take because it was Dobby.

"We are cleared for takeoff in ten minutes, mistress," Dobby said with a chirpy grin. "Hello, Great Harry Potter and Young Master Malfoy!"

Harry blinked repeatedly. "Since when the hell did you know how to fly a plane, Dobby?"

"Dobby learned how to fly it forty minutes ago," Dobby said, his voice absurdly proud. "The Great Harry Potter can call Dobby now Captain Dobby if he wishes!"

"It's a house-elf thing," Lady Malfoy said quickly. "I trust him to know what he's doing."

Harry nodded slowly. This was hardly the strangest thing he had ever seen, but it definitely felt like it. It was probably the bizarre juxtaposition between the very Muggle concept of Dobby flying a plane and the very magical concept of him being a house-elf. "Okay, then…"

Dobby gave a crisp salute and went back into the cockpit. Lady Malfoy looked like she was struggling to contain her laughter. "Dobby is a very sharp negotiator," she said, mirth still coloring her voice. "He works for, if I may be blunt, dirt cheap. It's actually a little unseemly, in my opinion. I actually feel guilty making him work for so low, and as you well know, guilt and I are near strangers. But the stubborn elf would not budge. It was a miracle I managed to bring the salary up as much as I did."

"I'm surprised you were willing to hire him," Harry admitted. "Doesn't that, like, go against tradition or something?"

"Well, part of our arrangement is that he is strictly forbidden from telling anyone else I am paying him," she explained. "In the circles I move in, there is little to be gained from openly flaunting tradition, but I am more flexible if it is behind closed doors. Or if the circumstances are exceptional." She gestured at the two of them. "As you two well know."

An awkward silence fell over the room, which was blessedly broken by Dobby starting to taxi the plane down the runway. Any vestigial awkwardness quickly vanished as Harry watched Draco stare out of the windows of the plane as it took off, enthralled. Naturally, the two of them had flown before while playing Quidditch (and as much as Harry loved his boyfriend, he wouldn't give an inch the next time he played against him), but this was something else. This plane was going much higher than they'd ever been on a broomstick. And add to that, it overlooked Muggle London, which was exponentially more impressive than Hogwarts or Hogsmeade could ever be. Draco wasn't the only one impressed. Harry had never been on an airplane before, and the sight of the gigantic metropolis that was London was spellbinding.

While Harry had worried about Dobby's proficiency as a pilot, his worries all turned out to be for naught. Dobby piloted the plane with expert skill and might have used some magic to make it go faster, because it took a good half hour less than Harry had been told it would by the time they arrived in Nice. From there, it was about a half hour drive to the penthouse apartment of an absurdly expensive building in the magical district of Monaco.

Harry honestly felt a bit uncomfortable amidst so much finery. It was probably the fault of the Dursleys. They had always been social climbers, trying to make themselves look fancier than they truly were, so it was easy to associate luxury with them. Hogwarts, in its own way, was a pretty fancy place, but it was so old fashioned that it was easy to just place it in the category of historical structures, despite the fact he lived here. But the penthouse was modern, it was classy, and it was…well, Harry kind of felt like a trespasser there. It didn't matter that he was technically a lord and the invited guest of Lady Malfoy. It just didn't feel like he belonged.

But then again, perhaps Harry would just need time to get used to it. For now, whenever he felt uncomfortable, he just thought about what the Dursleys would think about him getting to live in the lap of luxury, and felt pretty darn smug. Maybe it was wrong for Harry to be smug about one-upping dead people, but he didn't really feel bad. Dudley may not have deserved to die, especially in the manner he did – despite all the pain he'd inflicted upon Harry, he was still a kid – but the Dursleys were, well, absolutely horrible people. Harry would never have killed them himself, nor wanted anyone else to kill them, but he couldn't really work up too much sadness about the fact they were dead.

"You look a little overwhelmed, Harry," Lady Malfoy said with a smile. "Let's talk on the balcony. There are some…important matters that need to be discussed." Draco stepped forward. "I will talk to you separately at a later point, Draco. For now, Harry and I need to talk alone."

Harry and Lady Malfoy stepped onto the balcony. The sea air was bracing and Harry felt much more relaxed now that he was outside and looking at the Mediterranean. "I could handle this matter obliquely, but I think for both our sakes, it would be best to handle this as quickly as possible. Draco must remain unsullied on his wedding night."

It took a good thirty seconds for Harry to understand what she was getting at and then his face flushed a violent scarlet. "Lady Malfoy! I don't…is this really appropriate to discuss?"

"It is unpleasant, but not inappropriate," Lady Malfoy said, her voice taut and curt. "It is necessary, and I will try to be as brief as possible. While I do recall, quite vividly, the temptations and urges this period of your life brings, I must ask that, for the sake of Draco's honor, you refrain from indulging them to that extent."

Harry banged his head against the table, heedless of how undignified it looked. "Lady Malfoy, I don't even know how to do that stuff. I'm just fourteen. I don't even know if I'm going to live to fifteen. That…isn't something I want to do right now. So, yeah, Draco's, uh, virtue is safe."

Lady Malfoy smiled brightly. "Splendid! I will try to acquire some texts for you that will explain these issues in greater detail. If you have questions, you need but ask…though, honestly, I would prefer you ask my cousin…"

"Ugh, that's even worse," Harry muttered.

"Well, nothing more needs to be said," Lady Malfoy promised. "I just had to cover my bases. Chin up! We're going to have an excellent holiday."

Lady Malfoy lived up to her promise. Each day seemed to bring some new and exciting experience, from being on a beach for the first time to dining at a restaurant that probably cost more than most people would make in a whole month. While Harry wasn't interested in living such a luxurious lifestyle on a full time basis, he was coming around to the idea of occasionally indulging.

Lady Malfoy herself didn't spend a lot of time with Harry and Draco. The two of them were unsure as to what she was doing during that time – she may not have even been in the country, given that the apartment came complete with a Floo connection – and both of them had decided it was better not to ask. Harry didn't mind. It meant he got to spend a lot of time with his boyfriend, usually with Dobby, glamoured to look like a human while in the Muggle areas, chaperoning.

And it was probably for the best, because when Lady Malfoy was around, she made it very clear that Draco's awful attitude when he was younger was not solely Lord Malfoy's fault. Though the comparison was not, admittedly, a fair one, if Lord Malfoy was the Vernon of the relationship – violent, boorish, completely lacking in subtlety – then Lady Malfoy was definitely the Petunia of the relationship. She was crafty and adept at putting up a front among strangers and could almost be sympathetic if you squinted.

But at the end of the day, Lady Malfoy did not see Muggles the way Harry saw them. She saw them as predators sometimes, and sometimes as prey, but always as something other than human. Something less than human. She didn't go out of the way to hurt them. Most of the time, it was clear she wanted little to nothing to do with them. But when she did interact with them, it was with contempt and scorn. She had no compunctions about using Confundus spells on a regular basis. At one point, she "borrowed" someone's car when her limousine got a flat tire. While she had returned it eventually, she hadn't given the Muggle driver a real choice in the first place.

But then again, Lady Malfoy wasn't really far removed from the rest of the way the magical world saw Muggles when Harry really thought about it. Mr. Weasley could be surprisingly condescending towards them, the way Vernon and Petunia treated foreigners. (Funny how when it came to the prejudices of the magical world, Harry's thoughts kept coming back to the Dursleys.) The Muggles at the Quidditch World Cup were repeatedly subjected to Confundus charms, when, really, it would have just been far simpler to pay them to go away on holiday or something similar. It was cruel, when Harry thought about it, and that was even before they'd become victims of the Death Eaters.

Harry didn't feel unsafe, per se, around Lady Malfoy. He didn't even feel uncomfortable around her most of the time. But he was starting to understand that their worldviews would never be fundamentally compatible. He wasn't willing to cut ties with Lady Malfoy anytime soon, unless she did something reprehensible or she became a danger to him, but Harry wasn't interested in taking any vacations with her anytime soon.

But being around Draco more than made up for it. Harry eagerly listened to the stories of his childhood, of what a magical childhood would be like. (Obviously Draco stayed away from stories that would upset his boyfriend, including most anything involving his father.) Harry had thought at first he'd be left envious, but nothing of the kind ended up happening. He just thought it was so cool, especially when Draco trusted him with the somewhat embarrassing tales of his first accidental magic. The constant danger Harry had been in over the past couple of years had soured him on the magical world somewhat, so having that wonder return to him was an amazing experience.

Harry made sure they spent a lot of time in the Muggle section of Monaco in addition to the magical sector. He also made very sure not to admire any of the clothes and jewelry in the windows of the expensive boutiques near Monte Carlo after Draco insisted on getting a bracelet Harry was admiring as a gift. The damn thing probably cost more money than Vernon made in a whole year! Harry knew his boyfriend was probably just as rich as he was, if not richer, but Harry just felt uncomfortable with getting expensive gifts. He never felt like he deserved them.

The Monte Carlo casino itself was like absolutely nothing Harry had ever experienced. Nothing could have prepared him for the level of opulence present there. Though minors were not allowed on the casino floor, Draco nonetheless Confunded a security guard into letting them through. Harry eventually gave into his boyfriend's pleading, accepting the very weak reasoning that any security guard who was weak willed enough to fall to a teenager's Confundus spell probably wasn't going to last very long in the position in the first place.

Harry felt like an imposter, hobnobbing with the rich and presumably famous, though he didn't recognize anyone. By contrast, Draco was absolutely in his element, pretending to be nobility. Well, Muggle nobility, anyway. He schmoozed and he talked to people like he'd known them for years, and to Harry's immense shock, he cheerfully introduced Harry to people as his boyfriend and dared them to do something about it if they didn't like it. The sheer confidence Draco was exuding was just so damn attractive. Harry probably would have jumped his bones if Dobby hadn't been around as a chaperone. He didn't know what Dobby would do in defense of Draco's virtue, but he did know he very much did not want to find out. It would probably be very painful.

"What are we going to do about Dumbledore?" Harry asked Draco after a winning streak at the roulette table came to an unfortunate end. Harry suspected Draco was using magic to subtly cheat, but he decided he'd adhere to a policy of plausible deniability. "He's so freaking powerful, and I'm just…me."

"First of all, just you happened to slay a basilisk and win against the Dark Lord three times," Draco reminded him. Harry rolled his eyes. It sounded impressive when he said it like that, but without Fawkes, his friends, and his mother, he never would have lived through any of that. "Our plan is simple. We're going to get you through this tournament, and then we're going to get the hell away from Hogwarts."

Harry's stomach churned unpleasantly at the thought of leaving his friends and, heck, even his acquaintances to Dumbledore's not so tender mercies. "We have to do something, Draco. I don't know what he wants, but it can't be good."

Draco looked him in the eyes and Harry lost his train of thought to those devastatingly pretty light grey irises. "Harry, I know you feel like we're doing nothing, but recharging the brain can make all the difference. Aren't you happy?"

"I guess I am," Harry admitted. "I feel guilty for being happy, sometimes. I feel like I don't deserve it."

"You deserve the world," Draco said and planted a kiss on his lips. An employee tried to kick them out for a public (and, Harry strongly suspected, homosexual) display of affection at that point, but Draco just used another Confundus charm to get him to go away. This time, Harry didn't object at all. "I can't believe so many Muggles have a problem with us."

Harry scowled. "Yeah. Well, I mean, they're not all like that…"

"But a lot of them are," Draco pressed.

Harry couldn't deny that. "Look, Draco, to be honest, I'm not all that fond of Muggles myself. But I get worried sometimes that…that…"

"I'll turn out like my dad?" Draco said softly.

"No…" Harry lied. Draco just gazed at him steadily. "Okay, fine, yeah, I'm a little worried. I mean, you have to admit, you, well, you were kind of a clone of him back in the day."

"I don't know what that is," Draco said. Right. Draco knew nothing about Muggle science fiction. Or science for that matter. "But I understand your overall point. I'm not going to turn out like my father. I may…take shortcuts when I deal with Muggles. But there's a profound difference between that and raping and murdering them like my father did." Harry winced at his bluntness. "I'm sure you'll stop me if I get that far." Harry would. As much as he loved Draco, he was not going to sacrifice his morals for him.

Harry nodded firmly and Draco relaxed somewhat. "I'm sorry if I sound too judgmental…"

"You've been hanging around Hermione too much," Draco pronounced.

Harry decided he would pretend Draco didn't say that for both their sakes. "But I care about you. I care about you because of the wonderful person you've become. I certainly didn't care about the berk who thought my mother's sort shouldn't be let into Hogwarts."

Draco cringed. "Oh my gosh, I actually said that, didn't I?"

"Yeah, well, whatever. You were eleven. We say dumb things when we're eleven. I trust you now, Draco. I wouldn't have dated you if I thought for a second you're anything like your father."

Draco beamed and it was like the sun coming out after a long, grey day. "Thank you so much."

Harry's heart was thumping frantically in his chest as the words somehow emerged into his head and before he could stop himself, he was blurting out, "I love you!" so loud that people turned their heads to look at them. "I mean, it's totally cool if you don't feel the same way, goodness knows we've only been together for a very short amount of time now that I think about it, I mean, officially…"

Draco stopped his rambling with a gentle kiss to the lips, one that sent sparks rattling throughout Harry's entire body. "Love you too, Harry."