CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

A/N: It's been too long. Three years, in fact. Thank you so much for the 400+ reviews, 700+ follows, and 500+ favorites! I never imagined my baby of a story would get so far. So many thanks to my continued reviewers. Without you all, I'm sure this story would be long forgotten. This isn't edited or anything, I'm far too scrambled to do that, but whatever, I figured after years something is better than nothing. As always, onwards...

"Are you mad?" Draco asked, blinking rapidly as footsteps approached the door.

Harry laughed, the noise hollow as Draco approached. "Maybe."

"And—Harry, have you been drinking?" Draco asked, tone softening uncharacteristically as he grabbed the werewolf by the shoulder and pulled him closer, inspecting his face. Blond brows pressed together, expression concerned.

"Did you just call me Harry?" Harry asked, speaking in a voice barely above his own breath as Remus called his name from behind the locked bedroom door.

"Harry, come now, open the door."

Harry froze, not moving, and Draco's startled gaze shifted past him and to the door, the handle of which was being rotated but stopped by the lock.

There was a pause. Draco looked between Harry's tired green eyes and the door.

"Harry, please—is that you in there, Mr. Malfoy? Would you be so kind?" the older werewolf's voice was worn and tired as he audibly leaned against the wooden door.

Draco gave Harry a scolding, firm look.

Harry's jaw dropped slightly. "Remus—I—"

"Stuff this, Remus, move over." A different voice cut in alongside more impatient footsteps that became more audible as they approached the bedroom. "Alohomora—oh—"

The door blew open. Remus stood beside a gobsmacked Sirius Black, two pairs of eyes lighted upon the wizards, both settling on the hand around Harry's shoulder almost simultaneously. Draco dropped it like he'd been burnt, and cleared his throat.

Remus cleared his throat. "We'll be downstairs, then, Harry. Mr. Malfoy, you're welcome to join us for dinner," he grabbed Sirius by the shoulder and guided him with some force toward the staircase, despite mumbled protests.

"Wait," Harry said, stepping away from the taller blond wizard, whose heart was beating audibly faster to Harry's sensitive ears. For some reason, he found his own heart mimicking the action, the sensation uncomfortable. Before he could say anymore, the heavy wooden door shut behind the older wizards.

Draco huffed a laugh. "Well, ah, what's for dinner?"

Harry breathed a returning, tense laugh despite the pounding headache building between his ears. "Ah, filet... rare."

"I take medium rare."

Harry pushed a bite of his steak around in its own juice on the clean, elegant plate, the set of which had replaced the Black's silver.

Sirius had not eaten yet, instead focused intently on glaring at the younger Malfoy who sat next to Harry, whom was eating without making eye contact with the Azkaban escapee.

"Can Kreacher get Mr. Malfoy, a pureblood worthy of a seat in the great Black estate, anything to drink?" the decrepit house elf asked in the most dulcet of tones Harry had ever heard from him.

"No," Draco said stiffly without looking down at the elf. Harry and Sirius bristled simultaneously.

"Kreacher, get out of here," Sirius snarled. The elf muttered to itself as it hobbled out of the dining room.

"Filthy halfbreeds," he spat under his breath.

Sirius stood, and the elf disappeared with a crack. The old chandelier above the table shook.

"Sirius, it's fine, sit down," Remus said quietly. "So, ah, Draco, is it?" he asked kindly, setting down his silverware to speak.

"What a pretentious name. Lucius always was a prat, somehow I'm not surprised," Sirius said, kicking his feet up on his table.

"Sirius," Remus said sharply.

Draco cleared his throat. "Yes, Professor Lupin," he said, and Harry wasn't sure if the struggle to speak politely was audible to everyone, or if it was his incredibly sensitive hearing that made it so obvious. Harry slammed his fork down, drawing a single pair of grey eyes to his own.

"When did you become an animagus?" Remus continued smoothly.

"Two years ago, I had my first successful transformation," Draco said, breaking eye contact with Harry.

Sirius snorted. "Took you that long?" he asked tauntingly. "And what are you? A snake? A ferret?" Sirius asked. "I don't see why Dumbledore thinks Harry needs the company. He has us."

"An arctic wolf," Draco said mutely. "Harry responds... uniquely, to the Wolfsbane potion. Dumbledore thinks it would be a useful, safety measure," he finished through gritted teeth.

Remus's eyes widened minutely, and he cleared his throat, steering his attention to the wizard beside him.

"Sirius, are you done comparing sizes with a teenager?" Remus asked. "Dumbledore isn't doing this to punish you, and any option that helps Harry is something we should consider. Thank you, Draco, for taking the risk I know you are in coming here."

Sirius ducked his head in either shame or some other emotion, and Draco looked up, appearing surprised. "Oh, thank you," he said, sniffing.

Harry pushed his plate away and stood from the table. "I'm going to take a nap," he said.

Draco reflexively stood up after him, drawing the attention of both older wizards once more. Draco coughed. "I'll join you," he said stiffly, starting out of the room with Harry at his heels, both avidly avoiding the probing gazes of Sirius and Remus.

The door shut behind Harry and he began to make his way toward the bed when one of Draco's hands grabbed him by the shoulder, startling him into stopping.

"Hm?" Harry asked, turning slightly to face Draco, only registering the blond's rapid beating heart when the taller wizard inclined his head and, his left hand guiding the back of Harry's head, pressed his lips to his own.

Harry's heightened senses threatened to overwhelm him, the scent of the wizard he'd grown so attached to flooding his senses as widened green eyes fluttered closed. Harry's tired body slumped willingly into the blond's comfortable embrace, and he only opened his eyes again when Draco pulled back just an inch, breathing harsh for his usual self.

"I like you, Harry Potter," Draco said, inclining his chin until his lips grazed the werewolf's upper ear.

Harry shivered, and gave a hard swallow at his body's reaction. "Me, uh, me too," he said, and without thinking he grabbed the blond by his stupidly neat hair and pulled his lips back to his own.

Harry woke up early the next morning, finding himself in nothing but boxers, and his green eyes opened to a view of the window that was obscured by ruffled blond hair, because his chin was tucked against none other than Draco Malfoy's shoulder.

Harry sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he recounted last night's events, his insides warming uncomfortably at the memories. He scratched his chest and looked out the cracked window, the nearly full moon visible beside the early morning sun.

"Harry?" a soft voice asked, and Harry looked down as the blond tiredly reached up, fingers closing around one of Harry's wrists and then lacing themselves between his own.

Harry's beat against his chest like it wanted out. He wet his lips and swallowed. "Yeah?" he husked.

"How are you feeling?" Draco murmured, grey eyes strangely calm as he rolled on to his side, holding up Harry's hand that was still entwined with own, examining the skin. Draco never acted like he was Draco Malfoy and he was Harry Potter. He was just Draco. And to Draco, he was just Harry.

"Ah, as to be expected," Harry said in a moderately hushed tone, sinking back under the warm blankets beside the other wizard. "Draco..."

"Harry," Draco cut him off. "Would you go out with me?" he asked, voice lower and heavier than it usually was.

Harry blinked. His heart shook in his chest. He blinked again and breathed a little faster. "Yes."

"Have you taken your potion?" he asked, fingers trailing up Harry's arm as he spoke. The subject change was sudden, as if he was afraid if Harry thought on the subject for too long he might take it back.

Harry shivered and shook his head, green eyes locking on to grey ones.

"You should," Draco murmured as he shifted up just enough to hover over Harry, looking down into green eyes.

"It doesn't do anything," Harry said bluntly. "It doesn't work," he said emphatically.

"How will we find out why it doesn't work if you will not take it?" Draco asked, lips twitching into a wry smile.

"How will we find that out if I do?" Harry asked, dark brows furrowing.

Draco's expression changed to one torn between amusement and disappointment.

"Harry, we did take the same Potions class, correct?"

Harry shrugged one shoulder sheepishly, and was disappointed when Draco leaned over him, only to retrieve a vial of Wolfsbane and press the cool glass into Harry's reluctant hand.

"Take it. Please."