Harry was halfway down to the lake when he saw the shock of blonde hair in the shade of a tree. He quickened his pace and nearly ran the rest of the way to the shore, where Draco was skipping pebbles across the surface.

"Are you done scaring me half to death, now?" He yelled when he was nearly upon him.

"I could say the same of you, Potter," he drawled without turning.

The last 24 hours had been a mess. The destruction of the final horcruxes and the final battle between the Boy Who Lived and Lord Voldemort had taken a toll on everyone; no one knew that like Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

But the most dramatic bit, to these two boys at least, was a secret between only them.

"We had an agreement, Malfoy," Harry responded, emphasizing his last name.

"Yeah, one that involved you not dying!" Draco turned then and Harry could see that his eyes were red and puffy. "Do you have any idea how mad I was at you when Hagrid carried you in?"

"Why does everyone focus on that bit?" Harry mumbled. "I didn't have much of a choice, you know. I couldn't keep letting everyone die for me." He had trouble raising his eyes back up to Draco's.

"Harry Sodding Hero Potter saves the day once again. So proud." His words bit at Harry, who took a half-step back, before moving closer. Draco shied away from the outstretched hand.

"Draco, I'm sorry—"

"Sorry doesn't cut it, Potter." Draco cut him off.

"Dray—" Harry grasped for words, his eyes searching out something, anything, in Draco's face except for a boy who had given him up for dead. Had cried over this fact. Even after it was proven false.

They had stolen moments between them, soft faces they only shared when they were alone; they had brief touches in the corridors, the need for touch masked with fronted hostility.

But now it could all be over, all their secrets come to surface. Harry had fulfilled his fate at the tender age of 17. Draco had survived being a pawn of the greatest dark wizard of history. He had made his bad choices, and all the while, Harry was there.

Until he wasn't.

"What can I do?" Harry tried to keep his voice steady, but his mind was running overtime. After all he'd lost, he wanted just this to be his.

Just this.

Draco turned around to face Harry again. After a pause that felt like an age, he held out his hand.

Harry let out a bark of a laugh, the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding escaping all at once from his thin frame. He took Draco's hand and they turned together to face the lake, smiles on both their faces.

"So what now?"

Harry turned to Draco, "Now? Nothing."

He sat down on the grass and tugged Draco by his hand down with him. Harry stretched his legs in front of him on the bank of the lake, and Draco laid his head on Harry's shoulder. They entwined their fingers together in the grass between them and shared a small sigh of contentment.

"I won't last, you know," Draco murmured.

"I know."

Neither boy spoke as the sun set over the lake.

As the hot summer air dissipated and the evening breeze blew chilly on their skin, the two boys stretched out on the grass. Harry tucked his left hand behind his head, the other wrapped around Draco's shoulders, his blonde head resting easily on Harry's chest.

It was comfortable in a way they never got at Hogwarts.

So of course it was over too soon.

"Harry?" The unwelcome voice drifted across the lake and Draco bolted upright from his sleepy state.

"Here," Harry mumbled, half hoping they wouldn't hear.

Ron and Hermione came into view a moment later, still clutching each other's hands like a lifeline, even with the fighting done.

"Took them long enough," muttered Draco and Harry restrained a giggle.

"There you are, Harry," Hermione began, but Ron interrupted.

"What's he doing here?"

Draco and Harry looked at each other, they hadn't exactly decided what they were going to say yet. With an imperceptible nod to Harry, Draco got up.

"I was just leaving." He strode off, leaving a confused Ron and Hermione in his wake.

They watched him go for a moment, then turned together back to Harry.

"Um… We're kind of together… I guess…" Harry blushed and turned away from the pair, studying the toes of his trainers.

When neither said anything for a long moment, Harry looked up again. Both seemed utterly taken aback, before Hermione closed the distance between him and wrapped him in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm so happy for you!" she shrieked and Harry flinched back. She released him but held his upper arms and grinned at him.

"You are?"

"Yes! You two have been dancing around each other for years!"

"Ron?" Harry peaked out from behind Hermione.

"Happy for you, mate," Ron promised, now studying his own trainers.

Hermione's face fell into a worried frown and she returned to Ron's side. She twined her fingers into his and he looked up at her and smiled weakly. She returned a soft smile and he reluctantly turned back to Harry.

"I am, really," he assured. "It's just a lot to take in. I didn't even know you were gay."

"I'm sorry, Ron, I didn't mean to spring it up like this –"

"It's fine," Ron cut him off. "You don't need to justify your happiness to me. You deserve it." A real smile accompanied his last statement, and Harry returned it.

"Thanks, mate."

"Is it safe now?" Draco called from a clump of trees.

The trio laughed and Draco stepped out.

"Yes, no one's going to hex you." Harry grinned at him as he approached.

"Not unless you break his heart!" Ron retorted, but a broad smile was still plastered on his face.

"Fair enough." Draco drawled before wrapping his arm around Harry's waist.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he squeezed Draco. "This could actually work."

Back in their fifth year, the first Quidditch game of the season had been Slytherin vs. Gryffindor. Ron had just been made keeper, and Harry and Draco's personal rivalry was in full force.

After the game, Draco had led the Slytherins in a nasty chant against Ron and Harry, Fred, and George had attacked him.

He deserved it.

The subsequent lifetime Quidditch ban from Umbridge had more than angered Harry; it had been the last straw. After classes were out that Friday, Harry had found Draco alone on the Astronomy tower with the help of the Marauders Map.

"Malfoy," Harry sneered as he stepped out of the shadows.

"Should've known you'd follow me here, Potter," Draco spat back, still looking off the edge of the tower. "Come to take another swing at me?"

Harry bristled at the insinuation. "I've come to tell you to lay off my team."

"Your team? I thought you were off the team?" Draco turned to him with his best smirk.

"Just— lay off Ron."

"Or what?" Draco rose from his seat on the stone floor and stood eye-to-eye with Harry. "I'm not scared of you, Potter."

Harry stepped closer to Draco, "You should be."

Draco stepped closer, leaving their faces only a handbreadth apart. "Well I'm not."

After a long moment of the boys staring each other down, Draco suddenly grabbed two fistfuls of Harry's robes and kissed him full on the mouth.

The kiss was not pleasant, but it was not meant to be. It was a display of power, not of affection.

After he had mashed his teeth against Harry's mouth to his satisfaction, Draco shoved him back and strode from the tower.

Harry had stood in shock for a moment before falling to his knees.

Back in the present, Harry had an idea. "You up for some Quidditch?" he asked Ron. It seemed appropriate somehow.

"Sure, lemme go grab a broom," he shrugged. Harry smiled and turned to Malfoy, "You?"

"Sure," he gave a small smile.

By the time all three boys had gathered their brooms they had also gathered Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, and Ginny. Hermione perched herself in the stands.

When they had all gathered on the pitch, Ginny stopped short.

"Um, hi Malfoy," she turned to Harry with her eyebrow raised and gestured unsubtly at the Slytherin.

"Just a friendly pick-up game," he said as he sidled over to Draco's side, standing a little close than two mates did. Dean, Seamus and Ginny all exchanged looks, but Ron cut them off by grabbing a broom and taking off for the goal posts. "I call Keeper!"

Dean shrugged and took off for the other goal posts. Harry hefted the quaffle and divided the teams. "Right, so, Draco, Ron, and I against you two and Dean?"

"Right," Ginny said absent-mindedly, still confused.

Draco and Harry passed the quaffle lazily between them as Ginny and Seamus sorted out strategy. Soon, the game was lively and everyone had forgotten Draco wasn't exactly a regular member of their pick-up games.

As the sun went down over the Forbidden Forest, they circled lazily back to the ground. Hermione had come down from the stands and walked towards the sweaty group.

"Harry's team won, 60-50," she announced as she drew close.

"Ah, good game, mate," Dean held out a hand to Malfoy. Everyone stared as Draco grinned and shook it heartily. "Good game," he agreed.

As the group walked up to the castle, Draco and Harry fell behind. Draco caught Harry's hand in his own.

"I'd like to take you on a proper date," he said softly. Hermione glanced over her shoulder at them and smiled before turning forward and hurrying to catch up with the others, leaving them alone, as it were.

"I'd like that," Harry squeezed Draco's hand.

The next day, Harry and Draco found themselves at The Three Broomsticks. Draco had waved Harry off and bought them a round of butterbeers and they were now sitting in the corner booth trying to figure out what exactly one did on a date.

"So," Harry said, staring at his butterbeer.

"So," Draco mimicked as he watched Harry trace the condensation off his mug. "Since when are you awkward around me, Potter?" he teased.

"I'm not awkward," Harry mumbled, but his blush betrayed him.

Draco smirked and slid closer to him. Harry looked up and smiled as Draco's thigh lined up with his, their knees touching under the table. The shared body heat relaxed him.

"What are we actually supposed to do?" he whispered.

Draco laughed. "Haven't you ever been on a date, Harry?"

"Yeah. It was a disaster," Harry muttered as he took a swig of butterbeer.

"Well, what's gonna happen is this," Draco spoke confidently. "We are going to ignore the rest of the world and I am going to flirt with you until you can't see straight."

Harry laughed, "Dray, are you trying to tell me that you like me?"

"I'm going to kiss that cheeky grin right off your face," Draco replied, but only stared at Harry.

"Well?"

"Later. I rather like it."

Harry laughed and downed his butterbeer.

After another round of butterbeers (Harry paid), the two found themselves walking to the shrieking shack.

When they could see the shack over the hill, Harry started laughing uncontrollably. Draco furrowed his brow and stopped as Harry bent over laughing.

"Remember," Harry gasped, "when it hit you with phantom snowballs here?" He began to giggle anew.

"And then your floating head popped out of the sky? Yes, though I'd rather forget," Draco drawled.

"Your face was priceless!"

"Yes, yes, didn't you get detention for that?" Draco retorted.

"Oh, ruin my fun, why don't you?" but Harry had straightened up and was smiling at Draco.

Draco held out his hand and Harry took it as they walked down the grassy slope towards the shack. Draco pulled Harry off the path and settled on a fallen log, pulling Harry down next to him.

"Two can play at that game," he smiled. "Remember the first time I kissed you?"

Harry did. His mind wandered back to it.

Their meetings after that first kiss had been even more confusing than the first.

By an unspoken agreement, neither had told their friends. They continued meeting, always alone, one or the other mad. In the silence that fell after they had aired their complaint, they rushed towards each other and met lips first: gnashing teeth and battling tongues until one of them pulled away. Hands that had been fisted in robes dropped as though the garment was hot. They fled in different directions.

By the end of their fifth year, though, the pretenses were weak. The kisses were less angry, though still frantic, and always a struggle for power. They began to linger after the kiss broke. The last day before the summer holiday, they kissed again and again before fleeing, both red in the cheeks.

When they returned for sixth year, they had actually talked.

"What are we doing?" Harry had gone straight to the point.

"Who cares?" Draco had responded and had seized Harry's robes and gone in for a kiss. But Harry had pulled back.

"We're kissing. We're not even fighting anymore, just kissing. I actually missed you Draco. What the fuck are we doing?"

Draco looked at him blankly, he had no idea.

"I missed you, too," he said finally.

"Right," Harry said, pushing up his glasses. He pulled Draco in by his waist this time, and kissed him. Draco had reached a hand up and grabbed a handful of Harry's hair.

When they had parted, they had smiled.

After that, the pretenses had dropped entirely.

"How about another?" Draco pulled Harry from his reverie.

"I'd like that," Harry smiled shyly.

This kiss was unlike any that had come before it. Draco fit his hand to Harry's jaw and pulled him in slowly; there was no reason to hurry now, they had all the time in the world. As Draco drew closer to Harry's face, his gaze fixed on his lips, Harry's eyes flickered closed. As their lips met Draco's eyes closed as well, his pale lashes brushing Harry's cheek as he angled his head.

As Draco opened his mouth slightly to deepen the kiss, he felt Harry's hand snake through his hair, the other wrapping around his waist. Draco matched the latter, wrapping his arm around Harry. A tongue, welcome and invited, slipped into his mouth and he let out a tiny whine. Harry smiled against his lips and pulled back a fraction.

Resting his forehead on Draco's, he giggled.

Draco rolled his eyes but pulled Harry back in for another kiss. He froze just as their lips touched again and his eyes flew open. "There's someone on the path," he whispered frantically. They weren't exactly well hidden.

Still entwined, Harry planted his feet, twisted his torso slightly, and crack! they disapparated.

They found themselves crouching in front of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, where they promptly fell over for lack of the log underneath them.

"Show off," Draco muttered as he stood and dusted himself off. "Where'd you take us?"

Harry smiled shyly, "My house."

"Your house? You have a house?"

"Sirius left it to me. My godfather."

"Sirius Black, the murderer?" Draco looked a bit paler than usual, though it could have been the apparation.

"He's innocent," Harry brushed him off. "Wanna go inside?"

Draco straightened, his usual smirk reappearing on his face. "Bit presumptuous, aren't we?"

Harry blushed, but Draco grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the door.

"It –," Harry stopped suddenly, "It might not be empty, actually."

"This just occur to you, did it? Who's staying here?"

"Not sure actually," Harry said, "some of the Order, surely."

"Well let's go find out!" Draco dragged him to the door and crossed his arms over his chest while Harry searched for the key. Mostly to keep his hands from shaking.

Harry opened the door a sliver and called inside. "Anyone in?"

Silence answered and Draco dragged Harry into the house. As soon as the door closed Draco turned and pressed Harry up against it, pale hands on his wrists pinned to the door on either side of the dark messy hair.

He stared into Harry's green eyes and fought to control himself. They had never been this alone. This safe. This free.

Harry broke the spell first, closing the space between their lips swiftly and without hesitation. They melted into each other and Draco's knees threatened to buckle. His hand dropped from Harry's wrists to his chest, and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's thin waist.

"Dray – ," Harry gasped and Draco released his lips, instead tracing down his jaw and neckline. Harry moaned softly as Draco sucked lightly at the skin there.

"Dray," Harry said again, tightening his grip on Draco's waist and pushing him back. "Slow down."

Draco put on a fake pout but didn't push back, "Alright, but I am gonna snog you good later."

Harry smiled at him and kissed him gently before guiding him to the kitchen. "I'm famished. Let's cook dinner."

They ended up ordering Chinese take-away when all they found in the cupboard was old pasta, and they enjoyed it more than any feast at Hogwarts for the simple fact that they were together.

After dinner, they snuggled up in front of the fire and exchanged lazy kisses and sleepy smiles.

"A perfect first date," Draco mumbled and Harry smiled and kissed him.

A week later, they were back at Grimmauld Place.

"There is absolutely no way I am letting you meet my parents wearing that," Draco shook his head.

"What's wrong with this? You said to dress nice!" Harry's cheeks tinged pink as he looked down at his black robes, slacks, and dress shirt.

"You've dressed better for school! Don't you own a nice set of robes, maybe with some color on them?" Draco raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching in attempts not to smirk. The black robes left much to be desired in both fabric quality and cut.

"Sorry, I was too busy chasing horcruxes across the English countryside to do any shopping." Harry retorted.

That fixed the desire to smirk. Harry's reply hung heavy in the air.

"Oh come here," Draco took him by the arm and dragged Harry back into his bedroom. He pulled open the wardrobe and sighed.

"Right," Draco said. He looked at Harry, back into the wardrobe, and back at Harry. "Alright, this is the plan. We switch robes. Your appearance matters much more than mine today."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Dray -," he began, but Draco held up a hand.

"Come on, let's switch. Need you looking proper."

After they had switched robes they stood in front of the floor length mirror, side by side, and appraised their reflection.

"Not bad, Potter," Draco teased. His deep blue, silk robes fell past Harry's cheap shoes, brushing the floor, which Draco fixed with a wave of his wand, shoring up the hem. The color contrasted his jet black hair in a way the black robes could not and Draco felt his eye drawn to it. For all that he would love to muss it up more, they had a dinner to make. He turned in the plain black robes, a similar wave of his wand letting the hem down a tad.

Meeting his boyfriend's eye in the mirror, he smirked and turned back to him. After a half-hearted attempt to smooth Harry's hair into something presentable he smiled and let out a small sigh.

"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

The Malfoys took to Harry very well, which, considering he was outing their son, was a surprise.

After a night of pleasantries and very nice food Harry was sure neither of Draco's parents had cooked, Harry was drained. They took drinks in the parlor until Narcissa had excused herself and Lucius as they were "quite tired," but Harry knew it was his uncontrollable yawning. He really couldn't be blamed, he wasn't used to all this politeness.

Draco grinned as his parents retired and sidled closer to Harry on the stiff couch. Harry returned the smile but it didn't reach his tired eyes.

Draco entwined his fingers in Harry's resting on his thigh and kissed him chastely on the cheek. "Ready for bed?"

"Yeah, I should get back," Harry murmured.

"Don't be daft, you're staying here." Draco scoffed.

"Your parents won't mind?"

Draco shrugged. "I've stayed with you, what's the difference?" He stood, still holding Harry's hand and pulled him gently to his feet.

They had barely snuggled into Draco's vast, too soft bed, Draco wrapped around Harry protectively, when Harry fell fast asleep.

When the initial giddiness at simply being together began to wear off, the boys started coming up with projects. They challenged each other to Quidditch matches, potion-making competitions, and duels. One day, Harry came up with their best project yet.

"Polyjuice potion?"

"Yeah, we'll switch bodies."

"You're crazy, Potter," Draco laughed shakily.

"You scared, Malfoy?" Harry teased. It was their way. They had been enemies for so long, the competition still permeated their relationship.

"It takes a month to brew," Draco evaded.

"Planning to skip town on me before the month's out?" Harry leaned in to Draco, his eyebrows raised in mock suspicion.

Draco blushed. "Never," he whispered.

Harry smiled softly and kissed him. "Thought not."

The month passed by with little change. The two spent most of their time at Grimmauld Place and somehow Draco's multi-coloured silk robes began multiplying in Harry's closet.

The day the potion was ready, they spent the morning psyching each other up, daring the other to back out first. In the end, neither backed out and they were standing over the kitchen table toasting themselves with the vile sludge.

Harry's transformation began first, his hair shrinking down into neat locks of white blond as Draco's started to sprout in funny angles and darken. After the transformation and expected nausea, the boys stood looking at each other across the kitchen table. They had donned each other's clothes; it was like looking into a mirror.

They burst out laughing.

"What do we do now?" Harry laughed, wiping a tear from his eye with newly elongated fingers.

Draco answered by shoving a hand unceremoniously down his trousers. "Hmm," he hummed appreciatively. "Why must you insist on keeping this hidden?"

Harry stammered and Draco's face turned bright red.

"Wha-," Harry gasped. "What are you doing!?"

"Don't lie, Harry, you know you want my hand on you like this," Draco smiled slyly.

"But that's my hand!" Harry exclaimed, unsure what exactly was going on.

Draco laughed and withdrew his hand. "What did you expect me to do with your body?"

"I don't know, mock me? Act like me? Try to trick people?" Words spilled from Harry's mouth in shock and disbelief. "Not touch me!"

"So innocent, Potter," Draco smiled, but the smirk on Harry's face was unsettling. "Do you not want me in your trousers?"

"Well, yeah," Harry muttered, "but not like this!"

"Aha! He admits it!" Draco cried triumphantly. "Half the fun of the Polyjuice potion is to play with another person's body. Figure out what they like. You've honestly never done this before?"

"Well, no, obviously," Harry scoffed, and the scowl fit Draco's face perfectly.

A long pause followed and each boy studied their own face on the other. Draco had done this before, but it had been purely physical entertainment. He still wasn't sure if this was a good idea with Harry.

"Are you going to try it now?" Draco led anyways.

Harry looked down, studying the grooves in the table between them. Slowly, he lifted his aristocratic hand and slipped it under the waistband of his trousers.

Draco's body responded to the touch and Harry moaned at the new sensation, sending Draco into a similar state. The boys explored each other's bodies from the opposite sides of the table. They teased and discovered, never touching each other, though their eyes constantly sought connection.

As the hour of the potion drew to a close, the pair was sat in front of the fire once more, physically spent. They sat close, Harry resting his blonde head on Draco's shoulder as they waited for the potion to wear off. Draco longed to run his fingers through Harry's hair, but Harry's hair was currently on his own head. He would have to wait.

The head on his shoulder began to shift and soon he felt his own skin start to warp, transforming him back into himself. Harry jumped up beside him and ran to the bathroom, where Draco heard him vomit. He changed back into the clothes he had worn that morning as his body reknitted itself back together.

When Harry returned, he had changed clothes as well and they embraced.

"Did you like being me?" Draco whispered into Harry's hair.

"I prefer being held by you, Dray," Harry whispered back, his face buried in Draco's shoulder.

Draco smiled and pulled him tighter.