"I think we should try to get in touch with Neville -or someone- using the fake galleons." Harry yawned, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Just to get an accurate report on what's actually going on at Hogwarts, I think."

With his glasses half pushed up his forehead and his hair sticking out wildly in all directions, he looked a little mad. The soft, candlelight glow of Grimmauld's library didn't really help, giving the whole ambience an unsettling quality. It casted long, dancing shadows across Harry's features, turning the pleasant angles of his face into a harsh play of contrasts, his vivid eyes almost sunken.

"Have you been eating enough?" Draco asked, distracted, his eyes tracing the protruding line of collarbone that poked out of Harry's oversize jumper.

"What has that got to do with anything?" The other boy questioned, straightening up from where he had melted into an old, velvet armchair. He looked significantly more alert, as if the oddness of Draco's query had jolted him out of a heavy torpor.

With Harry's face out of the shadows, Draco found himself able to breathe normally once again. Fully illuminated, Harry lost the skeletal and gaunt look the semi darkness gave him. The flattering, golden hue of the candles made his skin glow, radiant and lively, reminding Draco he hadn't lost him yet.

"Dunno, you… you look like you have lost some weight, I suppose. Maybe it's the light, I'm getting used to the brightness of those Muggle lamps." He mumbled, hiding his own yawn.

He slid off the desk he was perched upon, running a finger absentmindedly along the edge. The wood felt cold and uneven under his touch, tiny little dents that spoke of age. Sighing, he pretended to rub an imaginary stain off the mahogany as an excuse to avert his gaze away from Harry's curious scrutiny. He was aware that the air of casualness he was trying to extrude would immediately crumble under direct eye contact.

In truth, he was worried. He was always worried, lately.

"Stop worrying." Harry called him out anyway, his tone gentler than expected.

"Someone has to." Draco muttered, turning to face the desk. Hands on either side, he leaned over the Marauder's Map that laid across it, a deep crease in his brow.

Although Lupin's knack for charms work hadn't exactly come as a surprise, he still found it hard to believe that something as intricate and brilliant as the map had been crafted by a bunch of teenagers just barely past their OWLS.

In line with his brain's latest trend of seeking increasingly creative ways of self-flagellation, he spared a moment to wallow in the "what ifs". What could he, Harry and the other two have accomplished, hadn't there been the minor, insignificant detail of a whole, fucking war in their path?

They were capable, he knew that. Each had their strengths.

And, possibly the discovery that had surprised him the most, they could all work rather well together.

Yet, most of their time was wasted over the same handful of books doing the rounds in a demented game of Pass The Parcel, the hope that something, somewhere had been missed diminishing with each reread. Even Harry and Granger's periodic bickering about the Hallows had started to become a welcomed respite from the rest.

Frustrated, and a little lost, he ran his eyes over the parchment with no real direction, until they found a name he recognised.

Daphne Greengrass.

Draco didn't know Daphne, not really. At least not beyond the superficial way one could claim to know someone they shared lessons and living quarters with for years. In six, neither had put much effort to move past idle chats and homework talk, both uninterested in forming a deeper connection. Truthfully, Draco was fine with that.

The map showed Daphne in the library, her sister Astoria next to her. It was a Saturday, the end of fall term less than a month away. Some essay or another, Draco supposed, to keep them busy this late on a weekend afternoon.

Essays, such a thing of the past. His past, a life that would never be his again. And, fuck, Draco never imagined he would get to the point of missing school work. Compared to their current reality, though, the idea of having to put quill to parchment for anything as mundane as a class assignment didn't sound quite so bad.

As his gaze moved on, quickly scanning the tiny prints labelling the rest of the library occupants, he found himself inhaling sharply at the notice of another set of familiar names.

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked, his sleepy voice between curious and worried as Draco choked on saliva.

"Nothing, really." He coughed, thumping his chest to dislodge the uncomfortable sensation of water in his windpipes. "Life. Hogwarts."

Harry said nothing at that and, after a while, Draco sighed, his gaze back on the black, elegant letters that formed Theo and Blaise's names. "Do you reckon they know?"

"What d'ya mean?"

"People. Do you think people know that we- that you are out here, risking both your skin and sanity to spare theirs from all this bullshit?"

There were hundreds of people on the map. People that got to go to school and keep a sense of normalcy in their life. People like Theo and Blaise, unaffected by the terrifying world outside of Hogwarts' sturdy walls.

"I've never cared about that." Harry said, simply. Draco, still turned, could imagine him shrugging, his words ringing true. "Recognition. I couldn't give less of a fuck about that. Doesn't pay the bills at the end of the day, does it?"

"We don't have bills to pay, Lupin does." Draco replied and, despite the lingering sadness that had settled in the pit of his stomach at seeing his old friends' names, his lips softened into a smile.

"Actually, I'm not sure he pays any. He's not exactly a novice when it comes to forging documents, is he?"

Draco peered over his shoulder, eyes searching. Harry didn't meet them, looking down at his lap instead, the frown on his face matching the subtle bitterness in his words.

Lupin was still one of those sore subjects that caused Harry to clam up, and Draco was already regretting this misguided attempt at lightening the mood.

"Who knew hooking up with you that one time would have led me to a life of crime?" He opted to deflect, trying to keep his tone bright and teasing despite the churning of anxiety in his guts.

Approaching Harry's armchair, he sat on the edge of one of the armrests, so that his upper body had to make a quarter twist if he wanted to see the other boy properly. The muscles of his back gave a feeble protest as he reached one hand towards Harry's face, gently prodding his chin upwards. As Harry's eyes lifted, steady and dark, green almost entirely swallowed by the pupils, Draco buried his fingers into the other boy's soft hair and hummed.

Tugging slightly at the dark curls, he leaned seductively into Harry's space, in such an exaggerated display of adoration he had to swallow back laughter at his own lack of dignity.

"My, oh my, I fear you have corrupted me, Mr Potter." He whispered, fanning himself with the one hand he had free and batting his lashes in a way he hoped would come across as coquettish rather than silly.

"My deepest apologies." Harry replied, tone so impassive and dry that Draco had to laugh. "Did I ruin you completely for other men, Miss Bennet?"

His fingers frozen mid petting against Harry's scalp, Draco blinked. "Who's Miss Bennet?"

"Uh, I- actually… Don't know." Harry said, uncertain, his brows furrowing. "Sounds familiar, though, doesn't it?"

"Er-" Letting his hand drop, Draco slid down onto the seat, half on the other boy's lap, and gave a tiny nod that was more bafflement than agreement. Shifting into a more comfortable position, he leaned forward until their noses were just inches apart. "Regardless, you have ruined me for anyone else, Potter. That's what I'm trying to say."

"Mhm, I'll live with the knowledge." Harry shrugged, covering the rest of the distance until their mouths found each other.

Kissing Harry was always, and simultaneously, more than Draco expected and never enough.

It jumped from leisured to urgent and back to slow, leaving his head spinning and his lips tingling for more.

At times, he imagined it was a little like playing chess with someone that only vaguely knew the rules, but that had tons of drunken confidence to boost. It was unpredictable, often chaotic and, while there was no apparent lead, it was clear that Harry was in control of the game.

If he had to pick one adjective to describe the experience, Draco would choose "aggravating" and, against his better judgement, he found it only added to the appeal.

He was just about ready to fully surrender himself to Harry's whim, when the absolute wanker decided it was time to cut their snogging session short. Without as much as a warning, he sat bolt upright, sending Draco sprawling to the floor. With the obscene sound of their mouths' abrupt parting still ringing in his ears, Draco gaped.

"We should go to Godric's Hollow." Harry said, rather absurdly in Draco's opinion. His hands had settled flat against the seat at either side of his body, posed as if ready to push off at any given minute. The odd, excited gleam in his eyes had Draco believe the other boy was being completely serious but, still, he had to ask.

"What?"

"Oh, I didn't mean right now." Harry said, his reassuring inflection only serving to set Draco's nerves further on edge. "I think tomorrow would be the best time to do it."

"What the fuck are you on about?" Draco demanded, eager to understand what mental process had led Harry to such an irrational and insane conclusion.

"Well, Hermione said she is going to be brewing polyjuice tomorrow, and I am sure she'll have a couple more potions she'd want to do while she's at it. Ron told her he was going to help, so they'll likely be here most of the day. I know what they are going to say if I ask them not to come with…"

"I thought you wanted us to concentrate on getting into Hogwarts first! That's the only place we are sure to-" Draco cut him off, jumping to his feet. He had just started a nervous pacing, when something clicked in his mind and he spun around to face Harry. "Wait, you don't want them to come?"

"Uh- no." Harry confirmed, his fingers fidgeting with the velvet upholstery of his seat. "No, listen, before you say anything! I am the one that wants to go there…"

"I supported you! I agreed we should."

"Only because you seem hell bent on taking my side no matter what." Harry said, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. "I appreciate it, but…"

Draco bit his lips, looking away. Truth was that, while his recent level of anxiety might have made him overly compliant, he actually had his own reasons for wanting to visit Godric's Hollow. Reasons he could not share.

"We are not ready. We haven't even discussed a plan yet." He said, instead, teeth digging uncomfortably into the soft flesh of his mouth.

"All we do is planning!" Harry scoffed, kicking Draco's shin lightly with a bare foot. "I know it's dangerous, yada yada… which is why I don't want to involve any more people than necessary. You are alr-"

"I'm coming." Draco said, jutting his chin forward to signal he wasn't open to hear any more bullshit on the subject.

"I know." Harry sighed, grabbing one of Draco's hands in between his. "Honestly, though, I'm not really sure I believe Dumbledore has left me something in Godric's Hollow. I know that's been my argument so far but… He has never talked to me about our shared connection to the place and, going by Skeeter's book, it doesn't sound like it held many good memories either. Pretty horrific, actually. It would be a lie to say I want to go because of our mission, Draco. I want to go because of my parents, and that's not really a good reason to put Ron and Hermione in danger, is it? My parents will still be there… After. But- I…"

After.

Draco felt a sudden urge to cry.

"We should go." He said, crouching down so that their eyes were levelled. He lifted his free hand to Harry's face once again, resting it tenderly on his cheek. Harry blinked and Draco felt a single tear running down his fingers. "You have never been. We should go."

Placing a soft peck upon Harry's lips, he allowed himself a long moment to just breath in, eyes closed and forehead pressed together. The air in the little space between their mouths carried the faint aroma of the tea Harry had had earlier, fruity and sweet.

I love you, he thought.

Straightening, he nodded, his mind made up. "Tomorrow. We'll go tomorrow, Harry. We should still have a little polyjuice… And it'll be easy enough to get some Muggle hair from that barber shop we saw last week. I'll summon some through the window. They are closed on Sunday, but I bet there are bound to be tons of leftover hair that have escaped the cleaners. It'll be a surprise, that way. It'll be fun."

Harry hummed and, although he did not say it, Draco could see the gratitude in his steady gaze, the plea to be understood behind his wet lashes and pursed lips.

"Here's to hoping I'll have better luck with my selection this time, ay?" Draco joked, with a half attempt at a smile he was sure looked more like a grimace.

"To the end of ugly moustache season!" Harry cheered, his responding grin just as wobbly.

"Merlin forbid. Well, then, I'll go check if Kreacher can sort out some dinner, I'm getting pretty hungry." Draco lied, and turned to leave before Harry had the chance to examine his expression too closely.

He had a message to send and Snape had better be ready.