Christmas morning found Harry still in Draco's bed, still wrapped around Draco. Rubbing his eyes and wishing for coffee, Harry sat up slowly before noticing two piles of presents waiting at the foot of their bed—the house-elves had apparently known to deliver all his gifts to Malfoy's room. He stared at the boxes and felt a twinge at how much larger his own pile was compared to Malfoy's. Having celebrated far too many birthdays and holidays with Dudley, Harry knew how many gifts his spoilt cousin had both expected and received, and Harry was sure that that did not come anywhere close to the extravagance of the Christmas mornings that Draco was used to.

Malfoy took advantage of Harry's distraction to wrestle him flat against the mattress and pin him down with his slim body, a wicked glint in his silver eye as he murmured, "Happy Christmas," before slithering lower and swallowing the Gryffindor to the root. The instant Harry came and had finally stopped moaning and shaking, he flipped them both over and returned the favor with enthusiasm.

So far, it was the best Christmas he had ever had, and they still hadn't even opened the presents.

After both boys had cleaned up and pulled pants on, they began happily sorting multicolored gifts, trading glances before each choosing a brightly-wrapped box to tear into. A familiar squashy package was the first thing Harry opened, tearing into it knowingly. With a smile, he automatically tugged the hand-knitted sweater from Molly Weasley over his head, grinning down at the large ruby H now adorning his chest. The desserts she had sent with it were already currently being eaten by a beaming Draco, who smiled happily up at the brunet through a mouthful of treacle tart, and Harry snorted before turning his attention to the pile of presents still awaiting him.

Excitement mounting, he began ripping the wrapping paper off his other Christmas gifts eagerly, to discover that along with the sweater he had also received an assortment of joke items from George, a charmed amulet from Bill and Fleur, a large needle-sharp dragon's talon from Charlie, a wicked-looking black switchblade from Ron, and an assortment of books ranging from Quidditch to defensive spells from Hermione, as well as smaller gifts from Luna, Neville, and Andromeda, whom Harry had already sent gifts for both Teddy and herself.

The more presents Harry opened, the more his considerable pile dwindled until finally, he came to one without a card. The shiny crimson paper was torn away with curious fingers to discover a handsome leather photo album underneath, one that he opened to find a picture of his own face grinning back up at him. A tiny Ginny had her arm slung through his, nuzzling into his side as they stood leaning against one another; the next page was a picture of them locked in a fierce embrace after a victorious Quidditch match; the page after was of them sharing a kiss.

Frantically, Harry began flipping through the pages in a frenzy only to encounter picture after picture of him and Ginny, interspersed with the occasional photo of him with the rest of the Weasleys.

Who had taken all of these and how had he never seen most of them?

His heart began pounding violently and he slammed the book shut, not noticing the small card that fluttered to the floor from between the pages of the album.

But Malfoy noticed.

Picking it up curiously, he scanned the words in silence as Harry shoved the album roughly beneath his other presents before turning to find Malfoy watching him with a blank expression, a small square parchment clenched in his iron-tight grip.

"So let's see them, then." His voice was cool.

"Er, see what?" Harry's heart was still hammering furiously, increasing its pace as Malfoy handed the square parchment over without a word and raised one eyebrow in expectation. The close-set handwriting on the card was immediately recognizable.

Harry,

I made this album for you ages ago and thought I would still gift it. I hope these pictures remind you of everything we once had, and everything we could still have. Please don't forget that you are a part of this family. You belong in these pictures.

I still love you and always will. You are my first love and always will be.

I miss you, and I know we can work past this. Please, Harry, remember how good we were together. Remember how much we cared for one another. You still mean everything to me.

Happy Christmas,

Yours always,

Ginny

The inside of Harry's chest felt bruised from how hard his heart was beating against it. Fuck.

"So let's see them, Potter," Malfoy drawled calmly, glaring at the card clenched tightly in Harry's fist. "The two of you make such a lovely couple, after all."

Wait! This wasn't Harry's fault! He didn't ask Ginny to send him those pictures; in fact, he hadn't expected anything at all from her this year—not when the awkward terms they were still on were taken into consideration.

"Draco," he held his hands up palm out, but Malfoy simply spoke over him, ignoring his protests.

"Let's see what the couple in love looks like, shall we? Are there any photos of you kissing?" His voice had taken on its old cold, sneering timbre, but Harry could hear panic lacing the words, the angry questions threaded with fear. "Or are they mostly just of you two holding hands and gazing adoringly at one another?"

Harry shook his head and opened his mouth. "Draco, I don't—"

"Let's see them then," Malfoy demanded loudly, cutting him off.

Harry shook his head again in a firm no, causing Draco's eyes to flash.

"And why not?" he asked coldly.

Harry calmly locked gazes with him. "Because I'm not keeping it."

"But they're your memories." Draco's eyes narrowed further.

Harry shrugged. "I've already made better ones. With you." Malfoy said nothing, so Harry continued. "So, I'm not going to show you the album because I'm not going to look either. I know exactly what it was that I had with Ginny and I'm telling you for the hundredth time, Draco Malfoy, it does not compare." Malfoy's eyes glittered but he remained silent. "I didn't ask her to send this album and I honestly don't want it. Now, I don't regret having been with Ginny," Draco opened his mouth furiously and Harry hurried to continue, "but I don't want to be anymore! I'm with you and I choose you and I want you and as we already discussed I'm going to have you. I belong to you now, Draco," he finished simply, waiting.

A second later he was knocked onto his back from the force of the blond flinging himself into Harry's arms.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Draco apologized sheepishly into the Gryffindor's neck, tucking his face into Harry's throat and breathing deeply. "Fuck, I don't know why I keep doing this! I don't mean to be so insecure all the time, I don't want to be, I swear! It's just that so many people want you and are constantly plotting to take you away from me and everybody is always just looking at you and you're mine and they need to remember who I am and that I am not used to sharing anything, especially the things I love the most in this world, and they need to remember that as a Malfoy I am entitled and possessive and really rather spoilt and I've been accused of being jealous and did I mention that I'm possessive?"

Unable to help it, Harry burst out laughing. "Do you have any idea how adorable you are?" he asked the blond teasingly, laughing harder as Malfoy huffed in disagreement.

"No Malfoy has ever, in any sense of the word, been anything as common as adorable and I would advise you not to use that adjective in regards to my person again," he warned threateningly.

Harry chuckled but made no comment. Fucking adorable, he decided.

Without warning, Malfoy smiled suddenly as he sat up and straddled Harry's hips. "Time to open each other's gifts," he announced.

"I thought you already gave me my present this morning?" Harry smirked in amusement. So far, it had been his favorite Christmas present to date.

Draco grinned and shook his head. "That wasn't a Christmas present, silly, that was just on account of it being a Wednesday."

Harry sniggered and raised himself up enough to reach behind Malfoy to lift the rectangular package from behind the slim teen's back. "Happy Christmas, love," he said cheerfully as he set the gift in Draco's lap, which was currently sitting on Harry's own.

Draco's eyes lit up as he happily tore into the shiny green paper. "Harry, it's beautiful," he breathed, turning the journal over and over in his hands.

Yes, it is, Harry silently agreed. The book was large and rectangular with thick, creamy paper and a hard leather binding. The journal was black and depicted a glowing night sky, with twinkling silver stars carved delicately into the leather charmed to display an ever-rotating view of the cosmos. The tiny, etched stars were constantly shifting and taking shape before separating and swirling around one another only to once again form themselves into varying constellations. Along with the journal, he had also gotten Draco a large box of Muggle pencils and several different sized sharpeners, as well as a variety of fancy colored biros. Draco silently turned everything over again and again in his hands before leaning forward to press a kiss to Harry's mouth. "Thank you, Harry, it's perfect," he murmured. "Absolutely perfect."

"I'm glad," Harry smiled broadly against the other boy's lips, hot pleasure swooping through him at Malfoy's obvious delight, but then pulled back to look him in the eye. "By the way, why do you write with Muggle pencils?"

"I discovered them shortly after the start of first year and found them much easier than a quill and ink. I have actually always thought of them as rather ingenious," Malfoy admitted with a smirk, the expression widening at the nonplussed look on Harry's face. Did Draco Malfoy, pureblood and former extremist, just call a Muggle invention ingenious? Did he just compliment Muggles? Draco raised a silvery eyebrow at the bemused brunet. "Don't presume to know everything about me, Potter. I am a complex and multilayered individual."

Harry rolled his eyes in agreement. "I'm well aware."

Huffing, Draco ignored him as he balanced a small velvet box on Harry's chest. "I didn't wrap it or anything, sorry," he babbled, and it struck Harry that Malfoy was nervous.

Leaning his weight on one elbow, Harry plucked the box from his chest and swallowed before opening the lid.

Inside, nestled between the deep navy velvet of the square box, was a small snake charm. The eyes of the creature were a deep emerald color, glittering brightly against the argent head they were set in. The body of the reptile was coiled gracefully together, pretty and delicate, the scales of the serpent a shining, glimmering silver, causing Harry's breath to catch as he peered at it closely in awe. It was beautiful, and Harry lifted it from the box with careful fingers to discover a small chain attached.

"A necklace?" he mused, studying it.

"A snake charm," Malfoy explained as he blushed bright pink, staring at the stone floor as he spoke. "I, um, got one with a lion." An identical velvet box appeared from behind the Slytherin's stack of unwrapped presents, and the lid was flipped open to reveal a burnished gold lion head staring proudly up at Harry with bright ruby eyes. "I thought we could maybe wear them, you know, if we both wanted to," Draco suggested carelessly, gaze still locked firmly on the floor and face a blazing crimson color, sounding as if it made no difference to him whether Harry wore the necklace or not.

Without a word, Harry held his out for Malfoy to take, whose eyes flashed with hurt for a moment before widening with pleasure as he realized that Harry had sat up and was asking the blond to put it on him.

Then it was Harry's turn to clasp the lion necklace around Draco's throat with a kiss and everything was perfect.

That night they finally showed their faces in the Great Hall for dinner, not bothering to cover their goofy smiles or worry about the fact that Draco was practically sitting in Harry's lap throughout the entirety of the meal.

When they first entered the Hall and approached the single table that had been set out for the small number of remaining students, McGonagall's eyebrows had risen comically as they neared, nearly disappearing into her hairline at the sight of the two boys holding hands and snickering to one another, and the other students had been even less subtle in their shock than the Headmistress. Mouths dropped open and forks clattered loudly against dishes as grips loosened in confusion.

Were Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy holding fucking hands?

A Ravenclaw second year giggled and broke the spell, snapping the stunned students from their momentary shock. McGonagall was the first to recover, mouth turning up in a smile as she warmly wished both boys a Happy Christmas, beckoning the two to sit and help themselves to the feast. The food was delicious, and Harry had Draco to keep him laughing throughout the meal. They pulled crackers and swapped hats, laughing at the ridiculous head-coverings they both wore, and by the time they left the table hand-in-hand to head back to the dungeons, they were wearing matching smiles.

Harry had never felt happier in his life.

The rest of the holidays passed in a beautiful haze of Draco. The two hardly ever left the dungeons, preferring to spend all their time either naked in Draco's room or else in the Common Room lounging in front of the fire, talking and laughing, sometimes occasionally reading books or playing chess, but oftentimes they chose to pass the hours making love. Malfoy had "persuaded" Harry to break his ban on no sex in the Slytherin Common Room—something they had both gone slightly overboard with. There was now almost no surface in the Common Room that they had not had sex either on or against: pressed against walls, bent over chairs, lying on couches or atop various rugs—even several times in the narrow stone passageway leading to the entrance.

Then, the day after New Year's—a New Year's that Harry had found to be very enjoyable, indeed—the brunet received a letter of apology from Oliver, as had, to his eternal shock and everlasting surprise, Draco as well. Wood had written asking forgiveness from them both for making a move on Harry, as well as for the comments he had made about Malfoy. He also insisted that Harry keep the broomstick as a gesture of friendship, to which Harry simply shrugged and relented, deciding it would be much easier than trying to force the situation once again.

Pocketing the letter with a grin, Harry bent forward to coyly offer Draco a ride on his broomstick. Malfoy colored slightly but smirked and nodded as he shoved Harry up against the nearest wall of the Slytherin Common Room. Any thoughts of Oliver Wood or the Flash were soon quickly forgotten.

By the time the holidays were over and the rest of the school had returned from break, both boys were resolved to no longer keep their relationship a secret, deciding to weather whatever consequences came their way together.

At first, the student body had trouble accepting it. They blinked and stared and pointed and whispered and several of them even shouted things the first day back from break when the two boys had been noticed entering the Great Hall holding hands. Malfoy raised an eyebrow in response, but it was the only reaction the students received until finally, after ages, the silence evaporated, and the regular chatter blanketed the room once more. Harry ate breakfast that morning at the Slytherin table, one arm wrapped comfortably around Draco's waist as the brunet joked and laughed with Blaise while Parkinson remained largely quiet, poking at her eggs and staring at him suspiciously out of the corner of her eye.

The next few days saw the castle bursting with gossip—students watched open-mouthed at even the tiniest display of affection shared between Harry and Draco, sometimes even following them between classes in an attempt to get a peek. Vicious rumors began circulating about the validity of their relationship, many students coming to the conclusion that Malfoy must have cursed Harry into becoming involved with him, because the Savior of the Wizarding World would surely never fall in love with the Death Eater son of Lucius Malfoy if not for the use of Dark magic.

Every time they saw students glaring at the two of them and whispering, Draco turned away and tried to pretend that none of the remarks bothered him, but Harry could see the angry, hurt lines around his mouth and note how he would tense and hold himself stiffly when any gossipers were overheard discussing what potion they thought it was that Malfoy had somehow managed to slip Harry.

But while Draco was willing to allow the gossipers to spread their nasty rumors, Harry was much less controlled than his lover. He would leap around corners or bookshelves to confront anybody he overheard speaking negatively about his boyfriend, usually resulting in his furious echoed shouts and once or twice in the accidental shattering of a window. Draco would stand behind him and eye Harry smugly whenever such a confrontation became particularly escalated. For as many years as he had spent actively trying to make Harry Potter furious, it was so much better to be on the defending end of his anger.

Then finally, after Harry felt his point had been made, he would tuck Draco securely under one arm and, glowering at anybody who dared look at them, lead the smirking blond plastered at his side away from the scene.

The whispers and rumors of the student body were only further encouraged once the Daily Prophet caught hold of the story and began printing article after article of speculation about their relationship, some writers weaving a romantic tale of star-crossed lovers caught on opposite sides of a tragic war, others declaring Draco to be an unreformed Death Eater largely responsible for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. Some writers printed stories of Draco's life, in startlingly accurate detail. He was sent horrible letters and called vicious names and received countless Howlers, but through it all he kept his head high and clasped Harry's hand even tighter, seeming to square his jaw and challenge anybody to tear Harry from his grasp.

As more and more time passed, Harry began mentally sorting the other students he encountered into categories: which ones supported his relationship (admittedly the smallest category), which students didn't seem to care and were never overheard gossiping about it, which ones were simply curious, and which were openly hostile.

The number of the last category slowly grew smaller and smaller as time passed, students eventually turning their focus onto other matters and more current events, gradually whispering less and less until finally, a day came when Harry and Draco walked into the Great Hall holding hands and not a single person pointed or stared or wolf whistled. They sat and ate and nobody hissed in their direction.

Then one day—not too long after the morning they had entered the Great Hall to find not a single glare directed at them, after weeks and weeks of whispers—Ginny came to talk to Harry.

He was lying in his dorm room attempting to write a ten-inch parchment for Defense Against the Dark Arts when he was interrupted by a soft knock. Setting the assignment aside with a feeling of relief, he made his way to the door, wondering who was knocking. Maybe it was Neville or maybe Draco had sent another first-year to deliver a message to Harry, something he seemed fond of doing.

It was with surprise that he opened the door to find Ginny Weasley waiting for him, looking apprehensive but determined.

"Can I come in please, Harry?" she asked politely after several long moments of Harry silently staring at her.

"Er, I'm not sure, Gin…" He raked a hand awkwardly through his hair. "Ron's not here and he won't be back for a while, so…"

"I'm here to see you, Harry. I just want to talk, I promise," she added quickly, holding up her hands palm-out as the corners of her lips twitched.

Relenting with a sigh, he nodded slowly and stepped back to allow her inside, where she immediately marched to Ron's side of the room and hopped up onto his desk before turning her attention back to him. "I got the photo album you returned," she told him, staring into his green eyes evenly, and he cringed at her words. The photo album had been sent back the morning after Boxing Day, with a small card on which he had simply scribbled Sorry.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Gin." He tugged his hair in agitation. She wasn't still hoping that he wanted to recapture the emotions behind those pictures, was she? Had he not been clear enough? How could he possibly be any more direct?

But Ginny smiled a small smile and shook her head. "I don't mean for you to be sorry," she said kindly. "I just wanted to tell you…" she paused, and Harry waited. Tell him what? That she finally accepted that their relationship was over and was ready to attempt friendship once more? "That you look happy," she finished.

Oh. Harry looked happy? That made sense. He felt happy.

"I am," he told her softly and she nodded.

"I know. I didn't want to see it at first," she admitted, "especially since it was Malfoy, you know?" The corners of her mouth turned down and Harry frowned but chose to overlook it as she continued to speak. "But I've been watching you these past few weeks and it's…it's like you're your old self again. You smile so much more now, and I've actually heard you laugh. More than once, even. I think…" She swung her legs and took a deep breath. "I think the two of you are good for each other."

Harry stared at her in shock. Good together? Were they? Harry certainly thought they were, but did Ginny think so too? Was she simply saying that?

No, he decided, as he studied her closely. There were teeth marks on her bottom lip where she was chewing nervously, the tips of her ears had turned pink, and she was leveling him with a very serious stare.

"I just want you to be happy, Harry. And if…Malfoy," the word sounded slightly strangled, "is the one to make that possible, then I'm glad that you have him."

Harry said nothing, remaining silent as he marched forward to crush her into a tight hug. She seemed surprised for a second but quickly hugged him back. "Just promise that you'll stop avoiding me so much and I promise not to spread rumors about what you're like in bed behind your back, yeah?" she teased as she pulled away, ruffling his hair.

"Well, I, for one," a voice drawled from the doorway "would be very interested in hearing those particular rumors, seeing as how I'm the one he's currently practicing said abilities with." Harry glanced up to see Draco leaning casually against the doorframe, glaring at the two of them.

"Hey, don't hex me!" Ginny cried as she snatched her hand out of Harry's hair. "I came with kind words for the both of you. Tell him, Harry!"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed further in suspicion. "Words?" he echoed.

"Erm, yeah, Gin came to," Harry cleared his throat, "give us her blessing, so to speak. You know, to be together."

"Really." Draco's voice was flat.

She nodded. "I'd be an idiot to try and separate the two of you, Malfoy. I mean, good lord, just look at his face." She gestured to Harry, who had been staring at Draco with adoring eyes. Draco's expression softened as he turned to meet Harry's gaze, but Ginny continued speaking, drawing their attention back to her. "With the way you've both come out and some of the articles they've been printing, I figure the two of you have to be pretty serious about each other to put up with all that shit. I mean, it only takes eyeballs to see how much you both care for one another."

"So, you're saying that you no longer want Harry back?" Draco asked, continuing to eye Ginny suspiciously.

Ginny shook her head. "No, Harry and I are over and I accept that. You make him happy, Malfoy," she continued softly, "and he needs that. He deserves that."

Draco nodded slowly and walked over to stand just behind Harry's shoulder. "I, well, thank you, Ginevra. That's very big of you," he said solemnly.

She grinned and stuck out her hand. "Sure, Malfoy, I'm quite the generous soul."

"Indeed." His tone was still amusingly formal as he wrapped his palm around Ginny's.

"But," her grip tightened as she pinned him with a steely look, "if you ever hurt him, I will hex you in ways you've never imagined. Ways that will make your sixth year look fucking tame. Understood?" Brown eyes bore into grey and she refused to release him until Draco stated quite plainly that no, under no circumstances would he ever hurt, betray, or leave Harry.

"Good," she grinned, hopping off the desk and straightening her robes. As she prepared to leave, she paused long enough to rumple Harry's hair once more and mock punch Draco on the shoulder. "I'll see you two boys around then, yeah?" she called cheerfully over her shoulder as she left the room.

Draco turned to stare at Harry. "Well, I certainly was not expecting that," he said in amused surprise. "I never thought I would say this, Harry, but I rescind all past comments and opinions of the Weaselette. Turns out she's not a bad sort, after all. However," his eyes narrowed, "that does NOT give you permission to begin spending time alone with her, understood?"

Harry smiled and nodded as he pulled Draco into his arms. "Of course, love," he breathed. "Anything you want."

Before anyone knew it, spring had blossomed into early summer and N.E.W.T.s. were upon them. Harry knew that his studying (or lack thereof) this past year had left much to be desired, but he felt as if he didn't do too horrible on the actual exams. The only test that he felt sure had been a disaster was Potions. After spending all of his first five years at school being both loathed and tormented by the professor, his sixth year relying on the Prince's shortcuts, all of seventh-year hunting Horcruxes around England, and all of eighth-year staring at Draco Malfoy and not even pretending to pay attention to the lectures, had left him with a slightly less than firm grasp on the subject. It had been so long since he had correctly brewed a potion without any help from cheating books or his brilliant boyfriend that he was resigned to his failure before the exam even began. His potion ended up being much more tangerine colored and much less crimson than it was supposed to be, but he thought it was a valiant effort and handed it in with a sigh of relief.

And that was it. They were done.

Exams were over and the regular carefree post-exam summer feel fell in a sheet of excitement over the castle. Harry was glad the tests were over with and school was finally almost finished, but if he was being honest with himself, he was terrified. Suddenly he was finding himself perched on the very brink of adulthood, and he was surprised at how scared he felt at the thought. Now that he was finished with school, what would he do? Find a job? Settle down? Buy a house? He already owned a house, so that one wasn't a problem. But would he now be living there alone?

Over the past few weeks, he had been mulling over ways to ask Draco to move in with him and yet had been unable to pluck up the courage. Was that something Draco wanted? What if he turned Harry down? What if he moved to France with his mother? What if their relationship was somehow tethered to the castle and once they were free of its shadows their fragile bond would deteriorate like smoke?

The what-if's faded gently from his mind as familiar arms wrapped around his waist, and he leaned back into Draco's smooth chest. "How do you think it went?" Draco asked softly, lips brushing the shell of Harry's ear and sending shivers through his body.

"As well as I expected, I suppose," Harry shrugged.

"And now it's over," Malfoy murmured.

It was over? Wait, what was over? School? Them? They couldn't be over, Harry would not allow it! He would not allow their relationship to fade away—he wanted Draco and he wanted him forever. He wanted to wake up to Malfoy's relaxed smiles and sleep-mussed hair every morning; he wanted to fall asleep wrapped around Draco's warm body every night. He wanted to have someone to come home to and wanted someone to come home to him and he wanted that someone to be Draco.

"Move in with me," he blurted suddenly, and felt Malfoy's arms stiffen in surprise.

"Are you serious?" the blond asked in a low voice.

"Deadly," Harry answered as he spun around in Draco's embrace to face him. "Move in with me. Sirius left me a house in London." Malfoy was silent, and Harry continued quickly, "I mean, it's in a Muggle neighborhood and it needs to be redecorated immediately and the house-elf is falling apart and tends to talk to himself quite a bit, but it's somewhere we can be alone just the two of us. I spent years cooking for my horrible relatives so I'm a fairly decent cook and I promise we won't starve. And I'm not sure yet what I want to do with my life, but I have loads and loads of gold so it's not really an immediate problem. All I know is that I love you and I want us to live together." Harry's eyes were bright and he was almost breathless by the time he finished speaking. He could imagine it all so clearly—the two of them redecorating and settling in, inviting friends over for dinner, relaxing together in front of the fireplace with a drink or two, making love in every room of the house. The last one would be item number one to accomplish on his post-graduation list of things to do.

Draco still hadn't responded. "Well?" Harry prodded cautiously. Had he been too hasty? Not thought this through enough? But the next second the blond had reached out and yanked Harry in close to meet his mouth in a bruising kiss.

"Of course I will move in with you, Harry, you lovely perfect wonderful absolute idiot."

Harry felt light-headed for a few moments, dizzy and wobbly as though his skull had been filled with helium and had somehow lifted his entire body off the floor to drift up near the ceiling. He kissed Draco back and clung to him tightly in order to keep his helium-body from floating away.

"So that's decided then," Harry said happily. All the other decisions—the ones he hadn't yet made and did not yet know the answers to—could all wait. Everything could wait—everything else would be sorted in time.

After all, Harry had time. Finally, for what felt like the first time in his life, he had time to just breathe. He had time to just relax and enjoy the fact that he had survived. Both he and Draco had survived everything—all the horrors and the terrors and the dark lords. They were here and they were together and Harry knew that they could face anything as long as they had one another.

He looked at Draco and smiled, feeling blessed as the blond smiled fondly back. Harry had Draco and Draco had him and he was truly and perfectly happy.

It was all he wanted.

A/N: Aaand The End. I hope this story was indeed a lot easier to read in chapters. The format might have gotten slightly fucked up when I uploaded the sections into individual chapters, so if there are any spacing errors or repeated text or anything, I apologize and put the blame entirely on the somewhat disastrous combination of technology and drugs.

Buuut I hope everyone who made it to the end enjoyed this incredibly sentimental story of teenage true love :) Feedback is always appreciated, lovelies!