Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: This is a story that jumps from Hogwarts, then to Draco and Harry as they are older. With Flashbacks to Hogwarts.

Chapter One

Harry had spent a considerable amount of time thinking over the offer that McGonagall had given him. Eventually, he decided that yes he would like to return to Hogwarts to complete his NEWTs. He didn't know what else he wanted to do, so school was something he can use to fill his time whilst he decided what he wanted to do with his life.

Harry was surprised to discover that the headmistress had created a whole new common room for the returning 'eighth' year students. The entire eighth-year students now shared a common room and had individual dorm rooms. They even had a separate table in the great hall, it wasn't a large table, as there were not that many students who returned.

Harry decided he could cope with sharing a common room and meals with the other houses because he had his own room. That was worth it to him. Being eighteen the thought of sharing with others wasn't appealing. For one he still had random nightmares, he suffered from bouts of insomnia and fits of anger, where his magic lashed out. Also, he had an enlightening summer, he and Ginny had called it quits and Harry discovered from visiting muggle bars that he enjoyed the company of men as well as women.

He was not experienced, just had a few encounters that made him sit down and evaluate who he was. The answer was a revelation and he was not ashamed of it. It was refreshing that he was not going to conform to what everyone assumed he would become.

Most of the eighth year students were looking to Harry to see how they should react. Follow his example – Sheep! Harry thought.

He had no intention of dredging up old school rivalry and petty grudges. The war had changed him and he was not a narrow-minded school boy anymore. He liked to think he was on his way to becoming a decent man, a man that all his family and friends he lost in the war would be proud of.

So on the first day of school, all the eighth year students had gathered in their new common room, they sat and had a civil discussion. They allocated rooms, discussed other issues and then someone had asked if they could trust the Slytherin's.

Harry had snapped.

"Grow up, Thompson! and while you're at it shut up. Prat." Harry glared at him.

"It's a valid question." He huffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"It is a stupid question. What do you think they are going to do? The war is over." He sighed and looked to the small group of Slytherin's crowded together, sat slightly away from the others.

Harry stood and approached them, "I for one couldn't give a flying fuck about the past and silly house rivalry. I hope everyone can get along, or at least be civil. This is a vital year for all of us and we can do without the distractions of petty fighting."

Pansy looked meekly at him, "You are all right with all of us returning?" she asked, emphasising the word all.

Harry nodded, "Sure why wouldn't I be?" he generally did not understand why she was worried.

Thompson laughed, "Because that bitch tried to sell you out, Potter!" he called.

Harry also laughed, "So your point? Didn't I already tell you to shut up." He sent Thompson an unimpressed glower.

Harry looked back to Pansy. "Look, Parkinson, I don't harbour any ill will towards you for what you did. It wasn't that big of a deal, I'm sure many people were thinking it. You were frightened enough to say it. I forgive you, even though there isn't anything to really forgive."

Malfoy snorted and Harry turned his head to him.

"Got something to add to the conversation, Malfoy?" he asked flatly.

"I find it hard to believe that you have turned into an understanding and forgiving person. Why the sudden need to accept everyone and everything? You expect me to believe that you have dealt with all the issues that the war created?" he sneered.

Harry ignored the sneering tone, he even managed to ignore the cold mask. But he could not ignore the look of Malfoy's eyes – he looked lost.

For that reason, and that reason only, Harry did not take the bait, "I don't expect you to believe anything. And I don't accept everyone and everything, however, I have grown up enough to realise that's life. You're not going to please everyone. As long as we're all civil then this year will go smoothly."

Pansy seemed to be happy that Harry was not gunning for her, so she nervously said, "I'm in. I really need to do well on my NEWTs. I can do without the distractions."

Harry smiled at her and soon everyone came to an understanding to be civil, polite and talk things out if any issues arose. Even Ron had grown up and accepted the truce that was offered. Malfoy also agreed but didn't seem bothered either way.

Harry went to his room not long after that and congratulated himself. I think I handled that quite well.

They first week of term went by and was uneventful. Harry found he liked being segregated from the other students. The eighth years ate at a separate table, it was nice. No younger students gawking at him and asking questions. The eighth years sat together and generally avoided the war and had managed to get along really well. New friendships were being formed. No longer being divided by house, they were united against the other students.

Harry had not forgotten the lost look he saw in Malfoy's eyes on the first night back. It did not help that he would have random dreams –or well nightmares really. Where a series of images of Malfoy's eyes in various stages would flash through his head. Malfoy's eyes as he was crying in Myrtle's bathroom in the sixth year, Malfoy's eyes as he pleaded with Dumbledore on top the astronomy tower, his eyes when he looked at him at Malfoy Manor, his eyes when he rescued him from the Fiendfyre. Just eyes – Malfoy's grey eyes, over and over.

After another night of waking from a constant stream of Malfoy's eyes, Harry had enough. I have to do something. Maybe if I help him lose that lost look he has now, then I can forget about his eyes. Having come up with a solution he returned to a restless sleep.

Now it was Friday night and Harry was stood outside Malfoy's room. He was not sure he could do this but he sucked it up and knocked.

Malfoy answered and quirked an eyebrow at Harry, but remained silent.

"Can I come in a moment?" Harry made sure to keep his voice calm and low.

"I guess," he stepped aside and allowed Harry to step into his room.

Malfoy had a nice room, the room had a large window that overlooked the lake and Harry thought it would be quite peaceful to look out at the view. All eighth-year rooms had double beds and Harry was thankful for that, as he was too tall and big to squeeze into a single bed.

Malfoy shut the door and turned around to face Harry.

"How may I help the perfect one?" he drawled.

Harry prided himself on his newfound ability to let insults go. Malfoy still irritated him but he would not sink to his level.

"I have something of yours and I thought it was about time that I returned it. I'm not sure if your wand will continue to function for you as it had before I won it. I don't know how it will behave towards you, its original master. I did wonder if I willingly returned it to you and show that I do not want it, then its allegiance can change back." Harry rambled as Malfoy just stared at him.

Harry pulled out the 10" Hawthorn wand. It felt strange to let it go, but it was not his originally and it would feel wrong to keep it.

Malfoy stared at it but did not make a move to take it. Harry could see deep emotions swirl in his eyes and Harry knew Malfoy's eyes as he saw them now would be added to the eyes he saw in his dreams.

Before Harry could analyse the emotions he saw in Malfoy's eyes, he gripped the front of Harry's robes and pushed him against the wall.

"Ow, you made me hit my head. Mal…."

Malfoy cut off the rest of Harry's sentence by kissing him. What the fuck!

Harry did not know what to do, yes Malfoy is attractive and kissing him would not be torture. But it was the consequences that he would not want to face.

Malfoy released the front of Harry's robes and moved his hand to rest in his hair, the other hand gripped the side of his waist – tightly. He was not perturbed by the lack of response, he continued to kiss Harry, trying to coax a response from him. This all happened in a matter of seconds.

Harry was having a battle with himself, yes this felt good, really good. But it was Malfoy!

Malfoy grunted in annoyance to Harry's lack of response. His hand on Harry's waist tugged Harry's shirt so it was untucked, and then he reached under the shirt and spread his hands over Harry's stomach.

That was the trigger Harry's body seemed to be waiting for. Feeling Malfoy touch bare skin, caused him to drop Malfoy's wand, and fling his hands onto Malfoy's hips and kiss him back.

Malfoy was a brilliant kisser. He's probably kissed countless amount people. That thought was not enough to stop Harry, though. He had succumbed to the sudden desire and burning need, at this point in time he did not care who he was kissing, as long as he was kissing someone.

Are you really going to let Malfoy control this situation? A voice in Harry's head was screaming at him. No!

Harry slid his hands up Malfoy's chest and they started unbuttoning his shirt, he had it fully undone and off his shoulders before Malfoy noticed. He let go of Harry so the shirt could be pulled off his arms. Once the shirt was off he immediately reached for Harry again.

Harry's hands explored the amazing skin that was now exposed. Running his hands over his shoulders, back and chest. Hmm, Malfoy has put some weight back on. Good, he had lost too much during the war – stressed I guess.

Malfoy was fiddling with Harry's robes and shirt. Harry pushed his hands away gently and removed them for him. Malfoy stared at Harry's bare chest for so long, Harry was tempted to snatch his shirt back and cover himself.

However, Malfoy smiled and dragged Harry to his bed. He used both hands to shove Harry so he fell onto the bed. Malfoy soon followed, looming over him.

Harry noted that Malfoy's eyes had changed once again, his pupils were larger and darker – he looked gorgeous. I wonder if he cannot deal with his past, his memories and he is using me to forget, fuck the uncomfortable memories his wand had produced out of his head. Harry realised he could not care if he was being used. He knew he would not get the opportunity to fuck Malfoy any other time.

Harry moaned as, during his revelation, Malfoy had started kissing all over his body and had just sucked on his nipple. It felt amazing.

Harry took a risk and threaded his hands into Malfoy's hair. He smiled when he was not hexed and started running his fingers through it, massaging Malfoy's scalp.

Malfoy's touches and kisses were frantic. Like he was feeding his sexual hunger. He was acting as if he had gone without it for long periods of time, and he was starving.

I wonder what he really wants, what he's trying to feed. What it is he is really hungry for. Is he craving connection? Loving touch? To forget? Harry did not think about it for much longer as Malfoy had shifted his body and Harry felt Malfoy's erection press against his thigh.

Harry felt his own desire increase, he craved this too. Malfoy rolled off and started removing his trousers and underwear. Harry did the same, he wanted to get to the sex – before Malfoy realised what, or who, he was about to do and stop.

Harry was erect now and almost desperate for physical contact. Malfoy moved onto his side facing Harry and Harry copied the pose. Malfoy reached out and took hold of Harry's erection, gripping it firmly and stroking with confidence.

Not to be outdone Harry reached out and did the same. Malfoy moved forwards so he was closer to Harry. Malfoy leant behind him, fumbled in a bedside cabinet and then pulled out a small bottle of lube. He applied some to his own hands and then threw the bottle at Harry.

Harry did the same and immediately took hold of Malfoy again. Harry noticed that Malfoy was avoiding making eye contact. That's fine by him – he does not want to see Malfoy's eyes, he'd be dreaming of them for weeks.

Malfoy pushed Harry's shoulder so he fell backwards onto his back. He spread Harry's legs and started preparing Harry. So he assumes I will bottom – interesting. I won't argue this time. What do you mean this time? There will not be 'a next time'. Harry reminded himself.

Instead of missing the moment by having an internal battle, Harry ignored the voice in his head and started stroking himself leisurely. Harry had removed his glasses when he removed his trousers, so he could not see clearly, but well enough.

After a while of kissing and play, Malfoy moved Harry's legs and Harry knew what was about to happen. He didn't protest and so Malfoy pushed inside of him. Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, focusing on relaxing and staying calm. It worked.

Harry put his legs around Malfoy and used his heels to nudge him – indicating that he could move. Malfoy grunted and started moving. After a few thrusts and movements, Harry had become accustomed to the feel of Malfoy and the sensations. He opened his eyes and reached out to trail a hand down Malfoy's chest.

Malfoy's thrusts were fast, smooth and deep. Fuck this feels good. Harry enjoyed sex in general – who didn't. But something about the way Malfoy was fucking him was different – he knew he would want more. He doubted Malfoy would.

Malfoy brushed over his prostate and he cried out. Soon he was moaning and withering, meeting Malfoy's thrusts. Harry started stroking himself knowing he needed to be touched to finally climax. The pressure, the sensations and pleasure were too much he needed the release. He soon climaxed and came all over his hand and torso.

Malfoy thrust a few more times, and he too came. Moaning and panting as he rid out his pleasure and orgasm.

Right now what? Harry thought. He knew they would not snuggle, he was not stupid. He just hoped Malfoy would not curse him or something just as absurd.

Malfoy had closed his eyes but remained inside Harry until he had regulated his breathing. Then he opened his eyes and pulled out. He sat on the edge of the bed, back to Harry. His arms straight and palms flat on the bed beside him. His head was bowed and Harry could not see his face at all.

Harry rolled over and sat on the other side of the bed. He stood picked up his own wand and cleaned himself. Then he dressed in silence, Malfoy was still in the same position.

Harry was fully dressed and ready to leave. He walked to the door, saw Malfoy's Hawthorn wand that he had dropped earlier. He picked it up and placed it on Malfoy's desk. He opened Malfoy's door and glanced over his shoulder once.

Malfoy was still fully naked, sat on the bed and head bowed. Harry was just about to say something when Malfoy spoke.

"Go," he croakily instructed.

Harry did not need telling twice and left. He showered and changed, hiding out in his room for the remainder of the night.

- TBC -